#she was relaxing in a cafe i was in and her joy radiated though my being like heat from the sun. she reminded me that we are Everywhere.

[cardboardcranium]

every day i think a little more about how ive spoken to so many trans people irl from so many walks of life across the gender spectrum, but only ever met 1 transfem like myself. maybe it has something to do with the fact that most of those trans people i met clearly harboured some unexplainable hatred towards transfems For Some Reason (I Wonder What It Could Be. Maybe It's Fucking Squeaky-Clean Purity Politics Again)

I hate that the second i bring my identity up, and the specifics of it to anyone, im always immediately told either immediately or just a little while after that im some sort of "sex-crazed freak" or whatever. i fucking despise it. ive even seen this bullshit by other transfems ive tried to reach out to on the internet, theres a good few reasons im so closed off about who i actually speak to. Though, currently, imhappy to have found a few Right Good Freaks to be chill with, although the Great Transfeminine Isolation still stands insurmountable.

[ppaperheartss]

Godzilla

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

word Count: 5.7K

Warnings: a lil angst, some swearing

A/N: Hey! I really hope you enjoy this, I’ve worked really hard on it. Inspired by Godzilla by Kesha. Any comments or feedback are appreciated!

-

Bucky Barnes wanted to find peace. His whole life had revolved around fighting and angst and fear, and now he decided it was time for that part of his life to be over. It took him a long time to readjust to a life without meaning, without something to fight for. He spent his days wandering around the compound looking for someone he could spend time with, but most of the time the compound was a ghost town. So he kept himself occupied with therapist appointments, catching up on pop culture and exploring different music genres.

(Rumour has it that Bucky was seen working out to Taylor Swift’s new album, but he always denies it regardless.)

He was proud of everyone else on the team. Sam took on the role of Captain America with both hands and was eager to help the country with the pressing issues which the Avengers never got the chance to handle. Captain America is now the frontface for Black Lives Matter and is tackling gun violence one day at a time. He is making America great again. 

Wanda has taken on the role of training new agents and works very close with orphanages in New York to rehabilitate young people who have led traumatic lives. She even introduced the Pietro Maximoff Foundation which aims to find people that had been injured in all Avenger fights as collateral damage and get them the help they so rightly deserve.

Scott spends a lot of time with Cassie to make up for all of the years that they missed together, and he even has another little one on the way with Hope. Though Bucky isn’t very fond of children yet he’s open to the idea of a miniature sized version of Scott running around the compound and causing havoc. Even the thought of it brings a smile to his face. 

Parker recently graduated high school and now works with Bruce a lot of the time in their own lab in the centre of the city to continue on with the work that Tony had started. After the whole fiasco with his identity being outed he tends to keep a low profile, taking his time to get used to the spotlight that is everyday life as an Avenger.

Bucky is still coping with that too, honestly. It’s strange walking down a street knowing that everyone probably knows his name and his history, and has an opinion of him, when he has never seen them before in his life. Maybe he has. He struggles with his memory too.

When he was diagnosed with PTSD and anxiety, it was a strange experience. He had a little knowledge on it from his uncle who had fought in war before him and suffered from the illnesses, but it was different knowing about it and being diagnosed with it he realised quickly. He’s cautious around strangers and struggles to speak to someone who he doesn’t know if he can trust yet, but his therapist Dr. Walker says he’ll develop with time. He just needs to focus on his breathing and find something to distract hunsekd. 

And he did. He went from not being able to open up the door for his takeout - which the app to order said takeout took him just a bit too long to understand - to being able to speak at veterans meetings with Sam in front of a couple dozen people. He connected well with the other veterans, especially those who had lost a limb in war, and found himself looking forward to the meetings for the chance to speak to people who shared similar life experiences and didn’t give him a sad look whenever he opened up about his nightmares. Knowing he wasn’t alone gave him a sense of belonging, something that he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

He retired from the Avengers and moved to a small apartment in Brooklyn that Sam helped him look for. He even went couch shopping with him, making sure that he bought the deepest and comfiest one there. He didn’t mind, he loved how comfortable modern things are compared to the 30s, but he wondered why he insisted on getting that particular one. That was, until one night Sam came to his apartment blackout drunk and slept there for 15 hours straight. He only woke once to complain drunkenly about how small the blankets were, to which received a pillow to the head.

Bucky enjoys having his own place to live. He wakes up early in the morning to go on a leisurely run through his neighbourhood and watch the sky turn from red to pink to blue. He stops at the cafe at the bottom of his street for whatever pastry is fresh and a sweet coffee.

He then comes home to his cat and plants, and spends his days loving and caring for them. He found Alpine on what could have been one of the worst nights he’s experienced in his normal life. It had been raining heavily for hours and Bucky was walking home from therapy when he was jumped by a group of men. In the panic of it all he lashed out, and having not been in the field for so long he underestimated his strength.

A civilian got hurt in the scrapple, but she was so scared of who he was that she refused to take help from him. The police then arrived and Bucky had to fight his case for an hour in the pouring rain with only a running tee on. It was a witness from an apartment block on the other side of the street who came to Bucky’s aid and explained how he hadn’t started the fight and didn’t hurt the woman on purpose. He walked home in a storm of a mood, his whole body shaking with anxiety and the cold seeping into his bones, when he heard a faint meow come from a dark alley. 

He quickly swooped into action without hesitation, fishing the small creature out of the soggy box it was in and shielding it under his arm as he started to jog home.

That’s how he found himself an hour later sitting face to face with a small white cat with eyes he thought resembled his own in a strange way. He knew he was going to keep the cat without hesitation, he just wondered how something so pure could have made its way into his fuck-up of a day.

He even got a job in a coffee shop for a short while when Dr. Walker felt he was ready for it, so he could work on his social skills and how to control situations positively. He lasted a whole month in the shop and he made fairly good relationships with his colleagues and frequent customers, but he was asked to leave one afternoon as they had had a complaint from a daily customer about him. Apparently Bucky has a resting face that looks intimidating, and made the customer feel anxious. He had a tough time in his head that night. It took him a few days of wallowing in self pity and several conversations with Sam and Dr. Walker to realise he didn’t do anything wrong. He had to accept the fact he couldn’t convince everyone he was a good guy, and this is something he is still learning to accept.

He had felt so much misery over his lifetime that he thought he would never get the chance to be happy again, perhaps this new life would be enough for him. Though, he had to admit, that the fact that the only constant human interaction he had on a daily basis would be with store workers when he went grocery shopping, it was starting to make him feel lonely. It was like he lived on the moon, only watching others live their lives from a distance as he lived his own mundane life. That, of course, was before he met you.

You came shining into his life like a beam of sunlight that made him feel warm and fuzzy on the inside. There wasn’t a moment where your beautiful smile didn’t grace your face, and the joy on you radiated instantly made his day a whole lot better. You had been neighbours for quite a while before your first interaction, though you would always give him a chipper smile when he passed you in the hallways to which he responded to with a bashful grin.

Bucky woke up with a feeling something was wrong one day, and his suspicions were confirmed when he got a call from the nursing home informing him that Steve was sick. He knew he had to visit right away, just in case, but he didn’t know how long he would be gone and refused to leave Alpine alone. He couldn’t ask Sam, he was too busy being Captain America and a dumbass to properly care for a cat, so he moved onto what seemed to be his only other option.

The super soldier stood in your door frame (which was just too small for him to stand at his full height comfortably in) with a cat carrier in hand, blue bag slung over his shoulder and a desperate smile on his face. “Hi, I’m Bucky. Barnes. Bucky Barnes. Your neighbour. Room 6? Anyway, I need to ask a huge favour of you. I have to visit a friend out of town but I can’t leave Alpine alone - she doesn’t like it at night, and I was really, really, hoping you could watch her for a few days. I understand if you’re busy or have plans, though!”

You listened to his ramblings with an amused smile on your face, hand on the doorframe and leaning forward slightly. “Alpine?” you mused, eyebrow raised slightly.

His cheeks tinted instantly as he nodded down to the now meowing carrier. “Yeah, my cat. She’s two. She’s lovely, I promise. Doesn’t scratch or anything, she’s a real doll. You won’t even notice she’s there.”

You had bent down to look inside the carrier as he continued to ramble, only to be met with remarkable blue eyes which matched its owner’s perfectly. Cooing softly at her, you look up to meet the other pair of striking blue eyes. “Of course I’ll watch her for you. What else are neighbours for?”

He smiles instantly, shoulders relaxing as he lets out a breath. Holding out the carrier to you with his metal arm which you took instantly, he starts, “Thank you so much…”

“Y/N. Y/N L/N.”

“Y/N.” he repeats, setting the bag at your feet. “My number’s in there if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to call. I’m better at calling than texting. Thank you, again, I owe you.” He smiles before waving quickly as you exchange goodbyes, turning on his heel and walking quickly to his car with keys in hand. 

After closing your door you set the carrier down and open it up, lifting out the small white cat into your arms. Smiling fondly, you press a kiss between her ears. You wandered over to your window to see Bucky climbing into his car as he held a phone between his ear and shoulder, and something deep inside of you knew this was the start of something special.

After that first encounter, you and Bucky seemed to be glued to the hip. It started off as a coffee date as a thank you after he got home from the weekend in which you watched Alpine, and you were glad to hear that Steve was well. It then evolved into a home cooked dinner from you the next day because Bucky refused to let you pay for your coffee even though you insisted and you wanted to pay him back somehow. He was always a gentleman with you. 

It then turned into weekly Friday night movie nights to catch him up on what he had missed movie-wise and supermarket shopping together the next morning because Bucky loved shopping in near-empty supermarkets just as much as you. Somewhere along the line you both got keys cut for the other’s apartment and you more often than not spent everyday together, even if it was just spending your hour lunch break from work sitting on a park bench chatting. You both had formed the best friendship possible, so it was no surprise to anyone that you wound up dating. It was meant to be, really. Soulmates. 

But not when Bucky went to the gym, because there was no way you would be caught dead doing physical activities.

You loved being around Bucky; he was sweet and caring and loved to try whatever new hobby you were experimenting with. He would always taste-test your cooking and baking and never say anything mean about it - even that time you made cupcakes and used salt instead of sugar he was quick to force it down and sing its praises. He cries at dog movies and volunteered at the local animal shelter weekly after you informed him one night that he could because he was just desperate for some interaction with the dogs. You were surprised he hadn’t come home with every single dog his first day there because he just wanted them to be loved so much. 

Bucky Barnes was a Saint sculpted by gods who had a heart of gold, and you could never see him any other way. Sure, you knew his history. Hell, you had even written a paper all about him and the Howling Commandos in your college History class, but none of that mattered to you. The Winter Soldier had been gone for over a decade, the trigger words meaningless and the mystery over, and you just wanted to know Bucky. Not his past - not that he could remember much of it anyway - but his and your relationship’s future together and what possibilities come along with that.

-

Bucky loved going shopping with you. He would give you an armful of clothes and make you give him a fashion show, where he would cheer for you and clap obnoxiously and shower you with the sweetest compliments, and you both savoured every second of it. You also had a fairly decent understanding of fashion, so you would help him keep up with all of the trends and keep him looking as gorgeous as he always is. So a Saturday spent together roaming the mall should be the perfect outing for the both of you. If only you could do it alone.

You held his hand tightly in yours, fingers intertwined and palms sweating slightly, but you were sure it was only his that was. You kept him near to know he was safe and coping, because crowds were one hundred percent not his thing. Maybe that’s why recently he had taken a liking to online shopping, because you could still have your famous fashion show in the comfort of his safe, judgemental free apartment. You could feel every set of eyes follow you and the six foot ex-assassin beside you for longer than necessary as they walked past you both, but you kept your head held high. No one was ever going to make you feel bad for loving Bucky. Not now, not ever.

“Oh my God.”

“That poor girl.”

“Stay back, he’s dangerous.”

“Do we just let murderers walk free now?”

You don’t know if the people walking by tried to be discreet with their whispering or wanted you both to hear, but you could hear them so Bucky definitely heard them. Looking up at him as you feel his breathing hitch, you follow his eye line and find a small girl being whisked away by her mother with fear evident on her face. The air around you grew thick, like you could feel his suffocating anxiety grow. He didn’t want to scare anyone, and this sight seemingly pushed him over the edge into a downward spiral.

Tugging on his arm you grab his attention, flashing him a reassuring smile.

“Why don’t we get food? I’m starving.” He simply nods in response, not trusting his voice.

You sit across from him in the booth in the corner of the food court, eating happily as you watch him visibly relax into his surroundings. He has a mountain of food in front of him but you know it’s never enough, and you just grin as he reaches over to swipe some of your fries.

You both talk mindlessly about insignificant things; a jacket that caught his eye, where you’d like to go next, how you both are craving ice cream, oblivious to the numerous pairs of eyes staring at you two. The flash of a camera and a series of giggles catches your attention. You quickly look to Bucky to see his reaction, but just smile at him distracted by his milkshake which has now covered his face. You lean over the table to wipe it away with a napkin before kissing his nose gently, and he smiles happily at you as his cheeks tint red.

“Why don’t we just leave after this?” He looks up at you, and it pains you to see the hope in his eyes at the thought of leaving. “We can go to that ice cream parlour at the bottom of the avenue and have a walk in the park instead.”

You smile at him. “That sounds so much better than shopping, baby. Let me go throw all of this in the trash then we can go.”

“No, I’ve got it. I’ll be two ticks.” He slides out of the booth, pecking your lips quickly as he picks up the trays and walks over to the trash. You still have a smile on your lips as you pull on your jacket and pick up your purse, but it fades quickly when you hear a crash and yells from behind you.

Jumping out of the booth quickly you turn, finding Bucky standing with a now empty tray between a bunch of chairs and a woman draped across the floor covered in the remains of your lunch. Bucky’s shaking as he tries to stammer out an apology. You assume that they’ve bumped into each other, and with Bucky’s strength she fell back hard. 

People had started to crowd around as the woman went into painfully fake hysterics about how he had attacked her, and Bucky just stood there like a deer in headlights. Pushing through the crowd you run to him, grabbing the tray from his hands and setting it on a table. You take his hand in his, holding onto it tightly, and he leans into your touch to try to make his body as small as possible.

A hush settled over the crowd as the woman’s cries turned into whimpers when she realised she had an audience. “That thing just assaulted me! Did you see it? Doing this to a vulnerable woman!”

A few people murmured agreements to her accusations, and it only made your blood boil more. 

“Bucky is a person, not a thing,” All eyes turned on you, and you only stood taller to secure your confidence. “and he wouldn’t harm a fly. I’m sure this was all just some sort of accident.”

She scoffed as she was helped up to stand from a few bystanders. “He’s a criminal. He knows nothing but hurting people. Just look at that,” she gestured to Bucky’s metal arm that he was now trying to hide away behind his body. 

Just as you tried to defend Bucky, the crowd started getting rowdy again and you felt a tug on your hand. Looking back you see a mortified looking Bucky with glistening eyes. His voice is so weak you almost don’t catch what he says.

“Just leave it, Y/N. Please. I want to go home.” You nod quickly, fixing your bag over your shoulder and delivering the woman a scowl as you turn and practically run out of the mall together. You didn’t want to make a scene, because it always affects Bucky worse. 

The car ride is silent, you in the drivers’ seat and Bucky bouncing his knee beside you, eyes shifting around frantically. You sit in the parking lot of your apartment block for a while, Bucky’s head on your shoulder and your hand running through his hair softly as he finally lets himself go. You stay there until his shoulders ache and he can’t find anymore tears to cry. You hold him close as you walk to your apartment, and he sits on the bathroom counter as you run a warm bath. You drop in his favourite bath bomb, and that at least brings a smile to his face.

He finally begins to relax as he sinks into the warm water and you sit on the edge of the tub, treading your fingers through his hair gently. It’s quiet for a while, but both of your minds are loud. 

“I wish they would see you like I do.” Your voice cuts through the air like a knife. He sighs, shaking his head. 

“They never will. Why should they? I’m a monster.” Bucky sounds weak. He’s tired of living like this, scared that he’ll make one wrong move and his face will be plastered all over the news. 

“You’re not a monster, Buck.” You keep your voice steady. “You're the kindest, sweetest person I know. I don’t care about your past at all, and I… I love you.”

You weren’t planning to tell him you loved him for the first time, but it just seemed right in the moment.  He’s quiet for a while, and you begin to wonder if he actually heard you or has fallen asleep from the warm water and lavender. 

Bucky takes a deep breath before he speaks again. 

“I love you, too.”

You can’t control the smile that takes over your face and you lean forward, planting a kiss on his head. You hear him smile and he moves to see you. The water swishes as he moves. A wet hand cups your cheek and you lean into the touch, watching his eyes stare at your feet as he struggles to get his words out. 

“I love you so much it hurts. I wake up in the morning and see you laying beside me, and I know that I’m where I’m supposed to be. I just don’t want to screw it all up.” He finally meets your eyes. They’ve turned a stormy blue, and you can see all of his emotions swirling around them. 

You turn your head to the side and kiss the palm of his hand, your fingers still running through his hair gently. He leans in, the tension escaping his muscles. He sighs as he pulls away, resting his forehead on yours. You smile at him, pecking his nose quickly. 

“You could never mess this up. You’re my soulmate. Now, how about we have that ice cream now?” the two of you share a knowing smile. 

You squeal as Bucky pulls you in for a hug, both of you laughing as he soaks your clothes and peppers your face in kisses. 

-

“This is wrong, this is all wrong. I told you I should’ve worn a tie! Even Steve agreed with me on that one! I look so stupid wearing, why the hell am I wearing a leather jacket to meet your parents? Can we turn back? I’ll change quickly. Let me cut my hair. Is it too long?” Bucky pulls down the passenger mirror to inspect himself, his forehead creasing as he tries to perfect his already styled hair. 

You sigh as you reach over from the steering wheel and take his hand, bringing it over to kiss his knuckles gently. “You look great. It doesn’t matter what you wear. They’ll love you no matter what.”

He grumbles a disagreement as he sinks back in his seat, changing the song playing through the car radio until he finds a depressing song to play to match his mood. You had noticed he did that a lot after only a week of dating. Whenever he’s happy you will almost always hear Michael Jackson or Queen playing from wherever he is in the apartment, and he had downloaded Spotify’s Sad Songs for whenever he felt down. 

You reach over and change the song quickly, which earns a sharp look from him. You scoff, but you both know that it’s not malicious. “Calm down, Buck. You’re just nervous. We’re having a barbecue, not a fancy meal in a fancy restaurant.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I just don’t want them to hate me. Would you leave me if they hate me?” He sounds like what a sad puppy would if it were able to speak. Stopping at a red light, you turn your body to face him. 

“I love you, okay? Nobody will ever come between us, not even my parents. Just flash them that charming smile of yours and they’ll have you hooked.” He smiles bashfully at you, and you grin as you kiss him quickly. 

After that the ride is short and sweet to your parents’ home. Honestly, you didn’t know how they were going to react to Bucky. You hadn’t told them who he was specifically, just that he was your handsome boyfriend who you loved very much. They had always been accepting of whatever life choices you made, even when you decided to drop out of college. They just wanted you to be happy. And Bucky made you happy, so that means they should accept him. 

You held onto his hand tightly as you walked up the driveway, and before flashing him one last reassuring smile you knocked the door. The air was tense and time seemed to stretch as you waited for one of your parents to open up the door. Even you were becoming slightly nervous. 

The door handle jiggles before the door flies open, and you smile fondly at your mother standing in the doorway. Bucky smiles too, though it’s a nervous one. 

It had been so long since he had felt any parental love - he thinks about his family everyday - and as selfish as it sounds he was hoping he could use this as an opportunity to finally have a stable father figure in his life. From the stories he had heard from you, he decided you had lived the life he had always dreamed of. Family trips, game nights, going out for special meals together. Even just the little things, like how you called them every night to say goodnight. He craved stability in his life, and this may be one way he can achieve it. 

She looks between you both, the smile on her face fading the longer she looks at Bucky. Just as you open your mouth you see her eyes flit downwards - straight age Bucky’s metallic hand. He adjusts his hand to loosen his grip on yours and swallows dryly. A strangled gasp escaped her lips before she grabbed your empty hand roughly, tugging you inside and scrambling to lock the door behind you. 

“Y/N! What were you thinking, bringing that monster here!” She searched your face as if she was hoping to find bruises under your makeup, and your blood boiled. 

“What the hell?” You shouted at her. Reaching back you feel for the door handle, but she takes your hand in hers before you can. 

“Do you not watch the news? He’s dangerous.” She pulls away, staring at you like you were crazy. “Has he been lying to you?”

“I know exactly who he is mom-”

“Then it’s… it’s Stockholm Syndrome. I’ve read about that! I think I’m using that right.” she says. You scoff at how ridiculous she’s being, fully conscious of Bucky standing behind the door. She only frowns. 

“I can’t believe you’re doing this. That’s my boyfriend that you just locked outside.”

“Whatever’s you’re feeling isn’t love, honey. I’ve heard everything about him. Did you know he attacked some poor woman in a food court a few days ago?” There's a tinge of pity in her voice, and it only makes you more angry. 

“Oh my god,” you moan. “He is my boyfriend! That’s the James that I told you about! And you just slammed the door on his face and called him a monster.”

Her movements falter as realisation dawns on her face. She actually loves the monster, is what you assume she’s thinking. You turn and swing open the door, only to see Bucky seemingly frozen in place in shock and mortification. He just blinks and stares at you, and you just want to swaddle him up into a blanket and hold him close right on the spot. 

You reach your hand out for him, but he flinches back and stumbles down the steps. 

“Th-This is all wrong. I’m sorry. I knew I shouldn’t have come.” He sounds weak, like a child after being scolded.

He stands there looking lost, like he wants to run away and never come back but is also too scared to turn his back on you. He isn’t leaving you, just the situation. He doesn’t know what to do. Will you hate him for this? Are you angry that he isn’t standing up for himself? But he doesn’t want to shout what he wants to say. He wants to be calm. He’s learned how to be calm. How can he learn to be calm after everything he’s gone through, but no one else can?

Your dad comes to the door and you know things will only get worse. You step down to stand beside Bucky, holding his hand tightly. 

“Y/N, what’s going on here? Who is that man?” Your dad seems just as confused about the situation as you are. 

“Mom just- ugh. I can’t believe this is actually happening.” You didn’t want to cause a scene, just because of the sheer fact that your mom knows about what happened the other day so if one person sees this who knows what it will be escalated to in the media. 

“She ruined today. Today was supposed to be amazing and she messed it all up because she didn’t want to give Bucky a chance.” 

“Sweetie, look at him,” your mom began to defend herself. “Can you blame me? All I know is that he is a killer with an arm made of metal. He could hurt you!” 

“Like you are?” She stared back at you in shock. “You took one look at him and decided he was a monster. He’s a person just like us, and he deserves to be treated like one. I’m sorry, but I can’t stand here and allow you to treat him like that. I love him and he loves me, and that’s all that matters.”

Your dad calls on you as you storm to the car, but you don’t listen. Slamming the door behind you, you push your foot in the ignition and drive away as soon as Bucky gets in the car. 

Bucky doesn’t know what to do. Normally he knows how to help you, but he’s never seen you like this before. You’re shaking, and he doesn’t know if it’s from anger or fear. Fear that you’ve lost your parents? He’s so lost and feels terrible that he can’t help you. 

It takes about fifteen minutes for you to stop seeing red and finally slow down to the speed limit. It was like something else took over your body and you were watching from five feet away. Everything happened so quickly. What actually just happened. Are you in the wrong? Maybe you should’ve told them about him before. You don’t want to have to but you know you should have. Explain it. Him. Bucky. 

Looking over you see him half smiling patiently at you. He’s the one hurting right now, but he’s hiding it so he can be there for you. You don’t mean it, but the look he gives you when your lip trembles causes the floodgates to open. 

He manages to reach over to the wheel and guide the car off the side of the road when the road begins to get blurry from tears. 

“I’m so sorry, Bucky. I didn’t know she was going to do that. Never in a million years did I think she’d do that! She-she’s horrible and nasty and-”

“Y/N, please.” Bucky reaches out and holds your hand, his other reaching up to wipe the tears off of your face. “You don’t mean that.”

“But it’s still not okay.”

“I know it’s not,” he sighs. “I just thought they would be more like you.” He smiles weakly at you. 

“So did I.” You sniff as you lean over, resting your head against his shoulder. His lips instantly reach down to kiss your head gently. 

“Let’s leave it for now, and you can call in a few days. Maybe we can convince them to come around to me. I know you want them to like me.” Bucky’s voice doesn’t sound as hopeful as his words, but he wants this for you. You’ve always had a good relationship with your parents and he doesn’t want to be the reason it’s all messed up. He knows he’s not worth it. Well… yes, I am worth it, he forces himself to think. 

He knows his worth in this relationship. He knows he means so much to you. You mean the world to him. He hopes you know that. But he knows how much your parents mean to you, and he would never want to make you choose. That’s selfish of him. 

You look up at him and smile. “You know I love you, right?” 

He smiles back. “You tell me everyday.” He bends down, capturing your lips in a kiss. 

Bucky still had a long way to go with his recovery, but you made everyday easier. He couldn’t imagine his life without you anymore. You were the reason he got out of bed everyday, the reason he cared for himself, the reason he smiled. 

Who knew Godzilla could fall in love?

[tokkionline]

silver’s picks

remember this post? well, after seeing it gaining notes again, i decided to properly update it! i wrote it with the boredom coming from quarantine in mind, but now... a lot of cities are getting out of it. this doesn’t mean we get to slack off, though! wear masks, wash your hands and be kind to yourself and others.

the channels i have selected are part of my absolute favorites, and i sincerely hope that they will bring you the same joy that they brought me. now without further ado, let’s get started!

bolded are personal favorites.

°˖✧ °˖✧ °˖✧ °˖✧ °˖✧ °˖✧

Cooking

if you know me, you know i love baking and cooking. i just think it’s so fascinating that we are able to make something delicious from various ingredients! whenever i can i watch cooking videos to inspire myself or just to relax!

HidaMari Cooking

one word: y u m. looking for something to bake? this channel is perfect to find the ideal recipe. even if you don’t cook, just watching the video is soo satisfying!

JunsKitchen

a man who cooks delicious meals while his cats watch! you may know him from the polishing a rusty knife video… well, his other videos are even more entertaining! you even get to see AMAZING scenery as he looks for ingredients!

한세HANSE

a quiet and laidback cooking channel! just relax and watch delicious desserts being created! i’m actually planning to try out one of their recipes…. chocolate chip muffin, maybe?

Cooking tree

mainly focused on desserts! so yummy and relaxing~

Rosanna Pansino’s Nerdy Nummies and Recipes

if you know me, you know i love disney. well, this playlist not only has amazing recipes for desserts, but it also has DISNEY themed desserts!!! or any kind of movie, really!! rosanna is also a super bubbly and entertaining person, i never get bored watching her videos

kawaiisweetworld

ADORABLEEEE recipes!!! i’m planning to try out her cinnamon roll recipe, i honestly CANNOT wait... i just need to get a dough hook SNDFN. oh, i also wanna try the mermaid macarons! anyway, if you need cute baking ideas, or if you just need a cute youtube video, this channel is what you need!!

Party Kitchen - パーティーキッチン

lunch! dinner! dessert! there’s everything and the videos are so relaxing as well!! even when i’m not looking for something to cook i just love to sit and watch.

내복곰 Nebokgom

this youtuber works in a wonderful little cafe, and they basically show us how they make the delicious pastries they sell! with soothing classical music playing in the background, it’s definitely one of my favorite channels.

Café Vlogs

one of my many dream jobs is to be a cafe owner and all of these channels just make me daydream so hard!!!! they are also a PERFECT way to unwind. had a stressful day? just sit and watch drinks being made with relaxing music~ it’s also super amazing that we get to see how our favorite drinks are made!

Zoe 조에

i LOVE zoe so much! her mother owns a cafe in korea, and she basically shows us her daily routine there! the drinks she makes look incredibly tasty, same goes for the cakes she serves!! i want to travel as much as i can in the future, so maybe one day i’ll actually go to her cafe ansndfn

y.na__ homecafe

what’s a home cafe? well, it’s when you decide to make your own little cafe at home! this youtuber user comes up with amazing drinks (even meals!) that are just too pretty to be eaten in my opinion. with little to no background music, it’s ideal for you if you don’t like noisy videos!

BoBe보베

i cannot stress how much i love this channel. it might even be one of my favorite NDNFNG their sandwich making process is literally SOOO nice and satisfying to look at, and they look delicious as well!!! the videos have a very calming atmosphere

카페노예 jun

one of the first cafe vlog channels i got into!! some videos even include the cafe’s pastries’ baking process!

카대남 홍준 HongJun

he posts daily vlogs as well, but i’ll still put him in the cafe vlog section because his cafe vlogs are so funny!! he shows his viewers that failing is ok. if he messes up an order? it’s ok! do it again and you’ll succeed!

Winnyoops위니웁스

she works in a cafe that’s underground!!!! that’s already amazing!!!! and the menu is literally so unique i adore it. her channel has such a cozy evening vibe honestly. like imagine you’re on your way back home from work and decide to stop at the cafe that’s in the subway...

Lifestyle

sometimes, i don’t know what kind of life i want to live. that’s when i turn to these channels, to remind myself of what i want: a happy, comfortable yet adventurous life. these vloggers are huge inspirations to me.

Choki

her videos radiate with cozy vibes! whenever i have free time i just love to bundle up and watch her stuff! recipes, daily routine, all videos are filled with wholesomeness as well as extremely helpful advice on how to better yourself as a person.

CozyDay 코지데이

honestly one of my all time favorite channels. a couple vlogs about their daily routine, and seeing just how much they love each other is so heartwarming!! plus, by seeing all the fun stuff they do such as cooking and taking care of flowers, you might be motivated to do the same!

李子柒 Liziqi

li ziqi’s channel is HEAVENLY. in an interview she mentioned that she wanted people from the city to know where their food comes from, having found out some kids believed rice grew from trees, and so she makes amazing videos where she grows her own ingredients! tomatoes, cucumbers, potatoes... she makes everything all by herself and produces amazing meals to share with her grandmother. she also makes her own furniture and so much more! the background music is also AMAZING and super soothing.

Extras

Barbie’s Youtube Channel

if you follow me, you’re probably not surprised i added this to the list. if you don’t follow me and randomly see this post… ok, hear me out. barbie’s vlogs are filled with positivity and fun, and isn’t that what we exactly need? hey, there’s even cooking videos!

VanillaHamHam

cooking, but for hamsters! watch this person make delicious, hamster-friendly meals, and then watch their hamster munch on it!!

mihan。

an amazing journaling youtube account!! even if you aren’t into journaling, i am certain you will find comfort with their videos! and if you do journal… say hello to bursts of inspiration whenever you finish a video!

J E U N I C O R N

another journaling youtube account! but you can also find adorable what’s in my bag videos that i absolutely love <3

그루밍데이 고양이cat vlog

two beautiful cats, cobi and berry!! they are literally so adorable, and watching them always makes me smile!

aaaand that’s it! all of my favorite channels! i hope that you’ll check them out and love them as much as i do!

[marshmallowprotection]

Can I request HC for RFA + Minor duo (soz Vandy) with MC who loves kids and babies? Eg. MC would get slightly teary from seeing cute babies on IG or if they go w/ their S/O and saw a kid, their heart would melt straight away like "OMG they're so adorable!" (For Baehee and Zen's case, assume MC saw a co-worker/fan/customer who brought along a kid and MC gets super friendly like *cue baby language towards the kid and somehow the kid gets along with MC*)

Personally, children terrify me with the amount of responsibility they require as well as the dedication it takes to be a good parent. I respect anyone who has the gall to do it. But definitely not a good idea for me personally which is okay too! God, I hope I did you right, anon.

Yoosung Kim

° Oh my God. MC just got somehow more adorable than he thought they could? Yoosung feels some kind of way when he sees how excited or bubbly you get around children, you’re just so nice and it really makes his face turn red when he incidentally imagines what a future would be like with you where the both of you have kids together. He’s frankly, not going to admit it outright at first or anything, he’s just going to appreciate this from afar until you’re both a little older and more prepared for that kind of conversation.

° Him baby.

° He's still young. As are you! So the idea is off the table until later in life, of course, but boy whenever you get into that mood it makes him red.

° "Uh. Whatcha watching there, Y/N?" He asks as he sees you teary eyed from either laughter or joy.

° "....My friend's baby is super cute, and I can't help but watch whenever she posts something!" comes the muddled explanation from your lips. "I really like seeing babies doing cute stuff, makes me hopeful for our future."

° You're beaming and he's mortified.

° You want to... with him?

° Boy, he can hardly handle kissing you the first couple of times and you're already onto the future when you might have kids. His heart is weak but he can't deny how adorable it is to see your face light up.

° Upon seeing his red-face, you have to reassure him. "Don't worry, Yoosung. You have no idea how red you are right now! That's still a long time away!"

Hyun Ryu

° You have no idea what that is doing to the beast. Your sheer enthusiasm is really something that amuses him. The way that your eyes light up and the way your smile looks when you’re playing a game with a toddler really makes him chuckle. Unlike Yoosung, he’s going to verbalize his interest and tease you a little bit about you. Because he definitely wants kids sometime in the distant future with you when the timing is right, unlike the internal struggle that either one of the Choi brothers would be through, Zen’s connection with the idea of parenthood is different.

° He had it pretty bad, but he promises to do better, and he intends to uphold that. Zen will do better and never make his kid feel like they’re outcasts or not good enough. His fear isn’t in that he thinks he’ll become like his parents, it’s all channeled into becoming a better person. It’s a healthier manifestation of his issues but even he isn’t immune to thinking he might make a bad choice here or there.

° You met with some old friends and he saw the way you just instantly brightened with a kid in the room. It must be something about you because you can get enraptured in the smallest of thing and the simplest of things.

° Like, wow, you look super into making that kid believe his hiding spot is perfect.

° "You're pretty good with kids, Jagiya."

° "Haha. I guess so. I never really noticed. I'm just fond of them. I've always wanted to be parent."

° "...Is that so? I can help you with that."

° Uh oh, watch out MC, the beast is going to be unleashed if you aren't careful with your word choices.

Jaehee Kang

° One of your friends came over to the cafe and brought along their child, and you immediately took to the scene to say hello and amuse them for their parent long enough so that they could get a coffee and relax for five minutes. And you're surprisingly very good at handling the situation, in a way that impresses Jaehee. It's another side of you that she had not known. Your compassion has no bounds and you seem to want to help everybody.

° You radiate strong parent energy when you're like that and Jaehee has to admit that she's impressed. She had never imagined either of you as the type to have children but this cements the idea that if you did decide later on to do that or something like that, you would be a perfect fit for it. And the way that you always light up when you're amusing children just makes her feel even better about you.

° Jaehee is most put together person among everyone and she always tends to have a plan in line. Routine and day to day, she's more than ready to be able to add a child into that mix if the situation allowed. She's not always the most confident but boy will she do great as a parent because she knows how to handle messes. She doesn't exactly remember what it was like to be with her family but she knows it would be nice to build a new one with you.

° Jaehee often finds herself smiling in your direction at the counter when you coo at babies.

° You'll catch her staring and tease her for watching you like that. "Jaehee, are you jealous?"

° "Of course not," she'll say. "I just like watching you caring for children like that."

° She also would love to see you stare at her like that. Low-key.

Jumin Han

° It was one thing when he saw how gentle you were with Elizabeth the 3rd, and it is another thing entirely when he sees you with a kid.

°That really invites those domestic feelings that he's always longed for in his life. His home life wasn't always the simplest when he was a kid, and he didn't exactly get a rounded experience that every other person has been able to have. So, for him to be able to imagine being able to have that kind of life in his future really does it for him. Like, oh boy, he can work with this.

° You're always in a place that he hasn't been able to connect with the moment you're around a kid. Your face lights up and you're so bubbly and kind. It's like you flipped a switch and he really loves seeing you like that!

° You would be holding a friend's kid, cooing at it, humming a song underneath your breath, and man oh man, Jumin feels some kind of way about all of that.

° "Y/N, how do you feel about children?" He asks.

° Clearly oblivious, and unknowing of what he meant, "I love kids, Jumin, I thought that that was abundantly clear with my attitude, why do you ask?"

° "I meant for us."

° "Oh."

° Good luck with that!

Saeyoung Choi

° Oh, no. His MC is too cute for him!

° He cannot handle the amount of cute that happens every chance you get around some children. It's obvious to him right off the bat that you've got a lot of compassion to give to the world and of course you had to be the kind of person that somehow attracts the attention of every kid in the room. It doesn't matter what you've done or what you said, kids just seem to know what you radiate. You're a trustworthy person and innocent things pick up on that immediately. Seven knew your heart and type well before you worked your way into his heart.

° Similiar to his brother, he would have this internal dialogue that makes him feel like he won’t be cut out for it. It isn’t as bad as the fears that Saeran would feel, but it’s damn near close. Would he be a decent parent? Would he do the right thing? Would he royally fuck up? Because he wants to he a better person to everyone around him, including his own possible children in the not far future.

° It's actually you that makes the world of difference in his fears by helping him work on that fear as you often help out friends who have children, and your family who have younger children.

° You would be hanging out with a child while babysitting, likely working on a puzzle or something together on the carpet. Encouraging them whenever they did something right as well as pointing out the next step low-key, and the minute that you caught Saeyoung staring that was it for him. You don't take no for answer at times like that. He's roped right into this before he can say anything and it turns out he's not as horrible as he thought he might be.

° You have a way of easing out his nerves and that makes it a lot easier for him to talk with children and humor their imagination. His childish nature actually works pretty well with most kids so that persona isn't hard to come out naturally when he's pressed.

° "Saeyoung," you scold him afterwards, knowing what he was thinking. "You shouldn't be scared of children, you're a natural at caring for them!"

° Wounded pride. "Not as well as you are, Y/N."

° "That's only because I've been working hard at it. You didn't even have to try. I know you love kids, you'll be great with our children when it comes down to it." You say.

° Reassurance and teamwork really makes the dream work.

Jihyun Kim

° Jihyun loves the way that your face lights up when you're with children. The warmth of your heart really sets him on fire, and he decidedly cherishes this side of you because it's sweet.

° Even though it's been rocky for such a long time for him, he was trying to care for Saeran and Saeyoung when he was practically a kid himself. He doesn't regret trying to help those brothers even though it turned out the way that it did. That's the one thing that has stuck with him in spite of the fears. Caring for children, your biological, or adopted, it's a rewarding thing! It's something that he believes in and won't ever be shaken from. He might be hesitant to take that step in his own life again, in the fear that he make a horrible choice that lands somebody in trouble again.

° It would take a very determined MC who helps him learn otherwise to allow him to want to be a parent again to another child but he'll prove himself.

° It's easy for you to keep up with children, and he catches you in the midst of playing a game with a friend's kid and the way that that kid is so excited about you makes him think that you could be a great parent.

° "You've been hanging back for a while, Jihyun, do you prefer watching then participating?" You would tease him for standing in the doorway, just watching from afar.

° "No, no. I just like seeing how your face lights up, Y/N." He would say, looking away. "You're great with kids."

° "Are you just saying that cause i cried at that video with the baby last night?"

° "No way."

° Probably. You'll never know for sure, now will you?

Saeran Choi

° His struggle is probably the worst out of this group.

° It’s not a bad thing, per se, it’s just that he fears children. No, it’s not that. He wouldn’t mind children if they were the others his brother had, or possibly even some of the other RFA members. It’s that he fears the idea of parenthood. He doesn’t think he’s ever going to capable of that, and that feels like a failure to him. He gets that his MC likely would want to be a parent and he loves the way your face lights up when you see kids it’s just -

° There’s a disconnect. Oh, he can envision his MC being a great parent to someone. But! He cannot see himself in that place. He struggles to see himself in charge of another life; Its hard enough for him to keep himself alive most days. It’s this lingering fear that he’s had for a long time where he might turn into his parents. He fears the sheer idea alone that he could ever be as awful as they were to him to his own children. Just the thought of raising his voice to a child makes him want to spin into a panic attack and dissociative fit.

° This would even be after a few years of really trying to get himself better, too, he can’t just shrug that fear away. It'll always be a part of him and he's tried to accept it.

° But, he knows how you are with kids. He respects that and stays out of the way most of the time when you're engrossed.

° It's when he's sitting alone with the kid and you had to leave the room to take care of something and you've left him alone with this kid, that he's put on edge. Of course this would happen. But, its not awful, it's a soft spoken child who hasn't said a lot since you left the room. He would manage a small "hi," and so would the kid. Awkward, to say they very least.

° Unfortunately he's not you so he doesn't know what to do.

° And when the kid starts to cry a little, he panics.

° What is he gonna do?

° You'd come back to the situation thinking it would be alright, and yeah, you're right. Saeran's taken it upon himself to ease whatever fit the kid was having by offering to share some of his sweets. That's one way to work your way into a kid's heart. Its moments like that that reassure some of Saeran's fears. The way that you smile at him when you see he's handled his fear, that's what makes him feel so great about himself for once in his life.

💜 Mod Kait 💜

[goldsteinsistersimagines]

Getting to Know You

Request: anonymous- Hi!! Would you be able to write about Queenie falling for a Fem!Reader that's got the exact opposite power to her - she's an occlumens?

Pairing: Queenie x fem!reader

Warnings: None

Your mind was the first thing that caught her attention. The fact that Queenie couldn’t read your mind at all was fascinating to her. It created a number of questions for the legilimens. After the two of you met, she leapt right into it and started asking you questions about your talent. The biggest question she had: why did you use occlumency at all? 

“Well, why do you practice legilimency?” You questioned. 

To this, she shrugged. “I got lucky. Like my ma used to say, when you have a talent, you don’t let it go to waste.” 

“So you were born with the skill?” Your interest growing. You hadn’t heard of such a thing. 

“Born with an...” The blonde looked to the side, searching for the right word. “Aptitude for the skill.” 

That was one of the first real conversations you had with Queenie. As the two of you spent more time together, both of you adjusted to the clashing of your abilities. Queenie learned to ask what you were thinking of instead of just guessing. You learned to be more open in different ways. You’d been practicing occlumency for so long that letting down the barrier was probably not an option, at least not any time soon. But you always made it a point to answer earnestly to any questions Queenie may have. And when the blonde reached her hand out or hugged you, you hesitated less and didn’t question her motives as much. 

Your favorite place to meetup with Queenie was at a small cafe near her apartment. It had a nice atmosphere and on a sunny day, the light poured in at just the right angle. 

“Any hidden talents ?” The blonde had her elbows propped up on the table, face in her hands, her full attention directed at you. 

You laughed. “I don’t think so.” 

“Oh come on, (Y/N)! There has to be something! Can you juggle?” 

“I’m afraid not.” 

“Draw?” 

“I can draw, but it’s not very good. What’s with all the questions?” You asked. 

“I just feel like there’s so much I don’t know about you, and I’d lie to know more,” The blonde explained, immediately returning to her questions. “Okay, do you play an instrument?” 

A small memory started to form. “A little...” You began. 

The blonde squealed. “Oh, wonderful! What instrument?” 

“Piano,” you answered. 

“There’s a piano at that fancy hotel a few blocks down. Anyone can play it. Do you think you could play something for me?” 

“You really want me to play?” You asked. 

“Of course!”

When you sat down in front of the piano, you were unsure if you remembered how to play. But you thought of an old song, and when you put your fingers on the key, it was as though there hadn’t been all those years between now and the last time you played piano. Queenie leaned over the piano and listened. She admired the way you lost yourself in the music, as if nothing else mattered around you. All those years of training, the passion, and the emotions were all heard. When you finished, you looked up and noticed Queenie’s eyes were twinkling, her face radiating joy. She was in awe. 

“I take it you liked it,” you chuckled. 

“I loved it, (Y/N). You have a wonderful talent.” The woman put her hand in yours.

As the night drew on, the two of you went your separate ways. Before you went to bed that night, you laid in your bed replaying the day again. 

“You know, it’s actually sort of nice,” Queenie mentioned while the two of you were in the living room relaxing. 

“What is?” You asked.

“Not being able to read your mind,” the blonde explained. She rested her head on your shoulder. “Sometimes you hear things you don’t like. But with you, it’s like... Taking a break from all of that.” 

“You don’t hate the mystery?” You teased, looking out into the apartment and taking in this moment. 

Queenie laughed. “What’s life without a little mystery?” The woman looked up at you and bit her lip, tracing your face with her eyes. 

You looked down and cocked your head. “What?” 

“Nothing, I just think you look cute at this angle.” The blonde smiled and you could feel your cheeks heating up. 

The legilimens giggled in response. Then you saw a change in her eyes. She traced her hand along your jaw, and you noticed her moving closer.

“Hey, (Y/N)?” The blonde whispered, her voice light and airy. Her forehead was pressed up against yours and you felt like you were in some sort of trance. You tried to speak but the words wouldn’t come, so you just nodded. 

“I really like you,” the woman breathed. “Is it... Is it okay if I kissed you?”

You gave a small laugh. “You can do whatever you like with me.”

Soon after, you felt Queenie’s lips on yours and you embraced the softness. You returned the kiss with more fervor. 

Falling in love with an occlumens was unexpected. Queenie couldn’t read you like she could with other people. She didn’t know everything about you, but she didn’t need to. It was fun spending time getting to know you. It made things a little scary, but it also made small moments like this much more satisfying. 

[theflashgrant-archive]

Two Years Together → Granielle

Tagged: Grant Gustin & Danielle Panabaker @hyfdanielle Location: Blue Water Cafe, Their Apartment in Vancouver Time Frame: Thursday Night, September 7th Notes: Grant and Danielle celebrate being together for two years.

Grant was glad that he and Danielle were able to get done at work with a decent hour since they had reservations for dinner at the Blue Water Cafe. The crew knew what day it was and was fine with it regardless since they had an anniversary to celebrate and Grant was excited. He couldn't believe that it had been two years since he asked Danielle to be his girlfriend. So much had changed since then in the best way possible and Grant felt like he was on cloud nine every single day, getting to call Danielle his wife. Now that they were on their way to the restaurant, Grant was on his phone checking his emails, making sure that everything for the party was coming together. Thankfully they had gotten a driver to bring them so he didn't have to worry about driving himself. "Are you excited? We haven't been here in a while," he said to his wife, smiling softly at her.

Danielle had been bursting with joy the whole day. She woke up with a smile on her face, after anxiously staying up for a little bit of the night because of it. The anniversary of when they first started dating had always had a special place in Danielle’s heart and was always celebrated, which was why the excitement overtook her. Though it was interesting at best—with the driver in front of them taking them to the Blue Water Café, they were free to do exactly as they wanted; but Grant’s fixation on his phone didn’t go unnoticed by her. She didn’t mark on it like the last few days, but instead just reached over and ran her fingers against the side of his head to play with his hair gently. “I know”, she told him, the smile on her face showing the genuine excitement that washed over her since last night. “I can’t wait to try some of the food and I wonder if they have anything new on the menu. Are you?” She was dressed in something nice, a dress just for the occasion, and shifted to get out of the car once they were parked out front and ready to go.

Grant nodded as Danielle spoke, wondering if they had anything new at this point since the last time they went was months ago. "I'll try something new, maybe we can split an appetizer, we'll see what they have now," he told his wife. "I'm excited to be back there but also to celebrate us and think about how much we've gone through in two years. It's been on my mind all day," he told her honestly while looking at his phone. Once they arrived, Grant thanked the driver and grabbed Danielle's hand, walking into the restaurant and giving his name to the hostess so that she could bring them to their table that they usually sit at. Secluded and private in the back which is what they both liked. Taking a seat, Grant took a look at the menu and already noticed a few new things and some intriguing things on the specials. "Oh man, this is going to be a tough choice," he said to his wife. He asked for a bottle of their best red wine to start with so that they could toast and then started looking at the menu. "Anything capture your eye for an appetizer?"

Danielle sighed softly, not knowing if it was heard or not, when Grant just spoke and looked into his phone. In fact, it made her all the more curious the more he did it, which was why she was seriously considering taking a peek; but she wouldn’t dare to breach his privacy that way. Instead, she just lingered about and walked into the restaurant with him hand in hand, clinging to him close in order to get his attention. Though now they were lead into the restaurant and looked back into the wine list, smiling as Grant ordered her favorite wine on the menu and leaned back with the food list in hand. “Oh no, I haven’t decided as of yet”, she told her husband, looking down and shifting her weight in her seat. To be honest, it felt like their first date all over again, watching him in front of her with a soft smile upon her face. The same expression she had for him still to this day. She felt warmth when she was near her husband, the love that radiated from her overtaking her completely, and she let out another soft sigh at this point. “I know it’s only been two years, but you’re still handsome so I definitely married well”, she started out, teasing her husband gently.

Grant nodded when Danielle said she wasn't sure what she wanted yet. There were so many options and he didn't know what he wanted either. Smiling as he stared into Danielle's eyes, he felt deja vu back to their first date which was a lot of nervous rambling and getting to know Danielle in a more intimate way. Now they were married with a child and he couldn't be happier. "Thank god, you wouldn't want to marry a wrinkly old man," he teased, smirking at his wife. "And you're the prettiest wifey I could ever ask for. I'm so lucky," he told her honestly. A few minutes later, the waiter came with their bottle of wine, pouring them each a glass. "To us. Happy Anniversary, baby. The best two years of my life, thank you for making it so much better and showing me what true love really is. You're truly my soulmate and I'm so lucky and grateful for you. I love you so much."

Danielle ’s nose scrunched at Grant’s teasing, even going as far as to stick her tongue out at her husband for doing so; but she found it endearing either way. It was great for them to be relaxed as such together, even go as far as to be comfortable enough to act childish around each other; but she was mostly content with just being herself around her husband. In any case, she was more or less distracted when the wine came out and the opportunity to toast to their relationship came about. “Baby”, she cooed out then, heartfelt and longing for him, before nodding her head. “From the moment we first kissed—even going as far as to the moment we had to for work—I felt such a deep connection to you and now I know that that connection was true love. I'm so thankful to have found my soulmate and forever in my best friend. Happy anniversary”, she reiterated and took a sip of her drink. “And I love you more than I love wine.” There was a soft laugh that escaped her now and Danielle leaned back when the waiter came again, ordering the usual appetizer that she knew of when coming here and one of the newer seafood dishes that they had to taste.

Grant smiled at Danielle's reaction to what he said, meaning every word. When Danielle reminisced about their relationship, he couldn't help but grin, enjoying the memories and loving how far they had come. He clinked his glass to hers and took a sip, smiling widely. "There was a time in my life where I didn't think I'd get to experience this kind of love or that all my friends were going to get married and have kids and I'd still be that single, lost guy. But you changed that for me and I can't thank you enough for that," he said to his wife. "I'm so glad you love me more than wine," he chuckled before taking another sip. He was about to settle what they were getting for an appetizer when his phone rang, seeing that it was the restaurant to talk about the food that he needed to choose for the party. "I gotta take this babe, it's work. Order us something and I'll be quick," he said, excusing himself from the table and going outside.

Danielle opened her mouth gently to order when Grant excused himself to take a call. It was weird, considering they had the same job, in the same show, and only his phone started ringing. Of course she brought hers out to make sure she wasn’t missing anything else, but as she waited and ordered something for them to much on, it became apparent that the phone call was just for him and he alone. For a few minutes, she sat back at the table and had her wine, watching the window and people around her to wait for Grant to come back, but even as the waiter came back with bread for the table just in case, her mind grew more and more confused at the notion. What was really going on? “What in the world could work need”, she spoke out now, shifting her weight and breaking off a piece of bread to take for food.

Grant talked as quickly as he could, not wanting Danielle to get suspicious. She was already onto him for being on his phone more than usual, especially since Grant really didn't like to be on his phone more than he had to be. He was starting to run out of excuses but there were so many components in order to pull of a surprise party and he didn't realize just how complex it actually was until he started going through the process. He wanted it to be perfect for his wife and he was running out of time which meant having to get everything prepared as quickly as possible. Once he chose a few different entrees that everyone would be able to choose from for each course, Grant hung up the phone and took a deep breath before heading back to their table. "Sorry about that. Something about having to redo a scene I did with Jesse because it didn't come out right or whatever. I'm gonna do it tomorrow, no big deal. So what are we eating?"

Danielle looked up when Grant’s voice floated back to her ears and gave him a forlorn smile. She didn’t do well with hiding a little bit of her disappointment, but she couldn’t just say anything about the amount of time he was spending on his phone. She trusted her husband, she did, but she was more or less concerned about what was going on and what he was doing. “That doesn’t sound like fun, I'm sorry you’re going to have to redo a scene on a Friday”, she told him truthfully. Fridays were usually hard enough without having to redo things but at least they wouldn’t be so crazy about it. “I thought we can do the seafood tasting for two, have a little bit of everything so we don't go too crazy and I ordered my entree already. I didn’t know what you were getting so I told our waiter to come back—but he did bring bread.” There was a slight pick up in her tone now as she waved the bread basket in front of Grant, teasing her husband, but her thoughts would always revert back to the phone calls and she hoped it wouldn’t disturb them any longer.

Grant smiled slightly and nodded. "Yeah it's alright though, hopefully I can get it over with soon and it'll be a quick day," he said to his wife. He hated lying to her but there was no other choice since he didn't want her to know about what he was actually doing. "That sounds good to me, babe," he said to Danielle as he ripped off a piece of bread and started eating it. Once their food came, Grant started tasting everything, excited to be trying new things. All of it was delicious and he was glad the rest of the dinner went without a hitch, not wanting another phone call to interrupt it. "It wouldn't be a proper anniversary dinner if we didn't share a piece of cake for dessert," he told his wife, ordering them a piece of chocolate cake. "Mm, cake," he said, licking his lips in anticipation. "We can't tell Ali that we're having cake without her," he teased.

Danielle was glad that dinner went perfectly with conversation to match it, the laughter radiating from her even towards the end of their dinner. Dessert would come now and the brunette let out a soft hum when her husband said something about celebrating with cake. “Great idea, Tommy”, she said, using the nickname that she called him and lingered on the thought. Her foot did go over to run up and down his leg gently, feeling the effects of the wine that she had tonight. Of course she had food, but the bottle was delicious and she was feeling flirtatious after everything. “And no, we’re not going to tell Ali anything; but I have a feeling she’s going to be asleep when we get home tonight”, she continued on. When dessert popped up at the table, she took her fork and had a bite, smiling as the chocolate started melting with her tongue and bounced in her seat at the joy it spread. “I love you more than I love wine and cake”, Danielle said next, giggling through her bite of food.

Grant smirked and licked his lips as he felt Danielle moving her foot up and down his leg. It was definitely because of the wine they were drinking but he didn't mind one bit. "I think so too, which is a good thing," he said to his wife, hoping to get some alone time with her once they were done with dinner. As they started sharing the piece of cake, Grant giggled when Danielle spoke. "I would have to agree, I love you more than cake too and that's pretty serious," he told her before winking at her. Once they finished the cake, Grant paid for the bill and stood up, walking out of the restaurant hand in hand with his wife. The driver was waiting for them and started bringing them home, something Grant was glad for. He then started getting emails about the whole DJ situation, wanting to find someone who would be able to be there for the time he requested. Of course his first choice wasn't available so now he'd have to find someone else and try to contact them, doing that on the ride home. He didn't realize they were home until the car stopped, Grant thanking his driver before emailing and walking at the same time. They got to their apartment and Grant opened the door, making his way into the living room to sit on the couch and finish his task.

Danielle finished off the cake with ease and soon it was time to go home. The late hour was nothing for her, but what concerned her had been the way that Grant was on his phone once again. Usually she’d tried to let it go, but this was concerning. She didn’t dare to peak but instead just sat back and let the driver drive them back to their apartment and let out a soft sigh in relief when everyone was down for the night. Paying their babysitter, she was able to find her husband again on the couch with his hands glued to his phone. “Baby”, she called out again, trying to get his attention, but it was just no avail. Instead, Danielle moved in between his legs and sat on her knees, her frame underneath the phone he was holding and reached out to palm his length slowly. If he wasn’t going to pay attention to her, she was going to make sure she’d get his attention one way or another.

Grant could hear Danielle calling for him but was focused on answering the emails for the party, assuming Danielle would handle the babysitter and getting that all sorted out first anyway. When he looked up for a few moments, he saw Danielle coming closer to him which made him smile, still looking and paying attention to his phone. He was caught off guard when Danielle sat in between his legs, starting to palm his length through his pants gently. Swallowing hard, Grant put the phone on his lap and stared down at his wife. "Well hello there," he teased with a smirk on his face. "Didn't expect to see you down there," he added before licking his lips in anticipation. Maybe this was Danielle's way of trying to get his attention in which case he was going to completely indulge, knowing he'd be getting some good pleasure out of it.

Danielle hummed in appreciation as Grant put down his phone. “You weren’t paying attention to me”, she mused out, explaining herself more and more about the situation. She didn’t stop at this point, however, and continued on for a moment, massaging his length through his pants and doing nothing else. “So I’m going to get you to pay attention to me. Stupid phone”, she continued on to speak, the alcohol affecting her slightly, but she was still in the right enough mind to take the phone away from the both of them and place it on the coffee table that was there. Instead now, Danielle would easily undo Grant’s pants and belt, leaning forward to press her lips to his clothed length to tease. “Too many clothes. Help me get you undressed”, the brunette started now, pulling her husband’s pants down just enough.

Grant sighed softly, running a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, I was answering emails," he told his wife. It was hard not being able to tell her just what was taking up so much of his attention right now and if she knew that it was all for her, maybe she wouldn't be so bothered by it. When she grabbed the phone, Grant pursed his lips and sighed. "It's not stupid," he muttered, rolling his eyes as she spoke. He knew that Danielle was probably just frustrated about him being on his phone so much, especially since it wasn't like him to be like that but it was frustrating for him too since he was just trying to do something special for his wife and yet he couldn't talk about it. When she told him to help her get himself undressed, Grant gladly obliged and lifted his hips, kicking off his jeans and taking off his shirt so that he was just in his boxers. He bucked his hips in anticipation and leaned back, his eyes closed as he waited for Danielle to continue.

Danielle scoffed at the notion but brushed it aside. The emails could wait and right now the brunette was more focused on the thought of pleasing her husband more so than anything. “I’m much better to pay attention to than emails”, she pouted at him, but now that his jeans were gone and all that was left was he and his underwear, she was able to set forth her plan. Tugging at his underwear now, she was able to lubricate her own hand by licking it and then took Grant’s cock with that same hand. Danielle started to pump gently, brushing her thumb against the tip of his length once, and keeping up a steady rhythm. Her eyes didn’t move anywhere else but stayed glued to his frame, just watching his reactions and seeing what came of it.

Grant lifted his hips when Danielle tugged at his underwear, taking it off his body which left him naked. She started moving her hand up and down his cock, Grant smiled softly as he kept his eyes closed to enjoy the pleasure. He squirmed slightly and let out a soft moan when she brushed her thumb against his sensitive tip, starting to build up to a climax. "Feels good," he hummed, reaching out to run a hand through Danielle's hair as she continued. He bucked his hips as Danielle kept moving her hand against his cock, wanting and needing more. He licked his lips and sighed contently, trying not to rush the process since he wanted it to last but also getting impatient, wanting Danielle to go faster.

Danielle ’s focus started to move quicker now that she had gotten the reaction she had wanted out of her husband. Both hands were now on him at this point, going different directions to pump him in order to give him the best that she could. “Good because I want you to feel good”, she whispered out to Grant now, licking her lips at this point, but not daring to do much of anything else. Her eyes were more or less focused on watching his reactions more than anything and she didn’t want to miss a moment of it. One hand now went to palm his balls while the other hand continued to pump his length, only speeding up her steady rhythm by just a notch at this point.

Grant arched his back in pleasure, starting to feel a tingling sensation in his body as the pleasure increased while Danielle pumped his length. She used one hand to started palming his balls, something that always drove Grant crazy and pushed him further to his climax. "Faster," he breathed out, knowing it wouldn't take much more for him to come and show Danielle just how much he was paying attention to her and how good she was making him feel. She continued her actions and Grant got closer to his climax, desperate to come at this point. "Just like that, babe. I'm close," he moaned through gritted teeth. He let out another moan before squeezing his eyes shut, his climax right at the tip. One last stroke sent Grant over the edge, moaning out Danielle's name over and over again while the pleasure coursed through his body. "Fuck that felt good," he breathed out, licking his lips as he stared down at his wife.

Danielle focused on Grant and her actions once he voiced his desire and soon she began to move faster to garner his climax. Once he came, the brunette smiled and lapped up everything that he had given her, cleaning off her hands and pressing her lips along his neck while she climbed up to face him. “I’m glad”, she told him truthfully, knowing full well it was her own selfish whim to get him to pay attention to her; but she was more than glad for it actually working and doing him some good to get him to relax. “Now does this mean we can drop the phone for tonight and you get to relax? You seem so stressed when you’re on that thing and I’m beginning to get worried.” As she spoke, Danielle did press odd kisses here and there to Grant’s pulsepoint, not marking due to the nature of their work, but still caressing that spot wth attention.

Grant wrapped his arms around Danielle when she climbed up on top of him, kissing the side of her head gently. "Yeah, yeah no more phone," he said, running a hand through his wife's hair gently. It was their anniversary after all and if it were up to him, he wouldn't have been using it at all but he was on a time crunch and every minute counted when planning this surprise party. He knew if he didn't reply quick enough, the offer could disappear and it would cause even more stress. "You don't have to worry, it's just typical work stuff and all that. I'll be fine," he said, leaning in to kiss her sweetly. "Now let's go get comfortable in bed and maybe celebrate our anniversary some more in our favorite way," he teased, picking up Danielle and carrying her upstairs to their bedroom.

[killkittymylove-blog]

Death, Life, Then Death

Death and I have been scandelously intimate for some time now.

It had started that summer.

Death appeared to me in thoughts and whispers.

And I slowly fell in love.

Death whispers sweet nothings in my ear at three in the morning when no one else is awake.

We flirt and experiment. We laugh and cry.

Death comes to me in dreams and beckons me to join.

And I want to, but then I remember how devastated you were when I tried.

It stalks me.

It stands in the corner radiating darkness.

It sits in the back seat staring, observing.

And sometimes it smiles.

That’s what scares me.

“My darling?”

“Huh?”

“Are you alright?”

“No.”

“What is it?”

“It’s back.”

“Oh, honey.” And you wrapped your arms around me in a warm embrace that fought off the shadow in the corner, watching and waiting.

It creeped closer and you couldn’t protect me this time. I got as far as I could but still it came closer. I curled into a ball as my heart began to race. It was so close I could smell it’s odd scent. ‘Go away. Go away.’ I repeated over and over. The familiar feeling of fear washed over me as it reached out it’s hand. A flood of memories washed over me.

-----

I could see the panic in my darling’s eyes as their body tensed up, so different from the relaxed, calm body of a few moments ago. With this I realized that most likely it was back again. It came more often since that summer. I held their hand in mine firmly, trying desperately to let them know I was here. A few moments later they whimpered sending a wave of sadness over me. They are so beautiful and kind and yet so tortured by old memories.

-----

Relief struck as I realized this would not be so bad. I was absorbed into a scene of summer romance. Two people sitting at a cafe drinking their coffee and talking under the teal umbrella. The cafe was small and quaint. It was a common place for couples and friends to meet. Soft guitar music played as the two exchanged smiles and laughter.

She looked stunning that day. Her golden brown hair curled, framing her beautiful face. Her black dress complimented her body perfectly. Her chocolate eyes held so much life and as she laughed her hand went over her mouth as though embarrassed to be laughing. She carried a conversation with such grace and wit. I remember wondering how I got so lucky that she loved me. I smiled as our pinky fingers interlocked and played on the circular, wooden table. Though I had felt all this joy behind me stood the silhouette of a thing radiating it’s odd scent of death and calmness.

“My love?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Do you love me?”

“Of course, I do.”

“Okay.”

“Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know.” You lift my chin and our eyes meet. You kiss me slowly and time stops.

“Ask as many times as you need.”

I sat alone on the floor in the darkness. It was comforting knowing exactly what was to be expected. I held the match and struck it across the textured side in a quick motion and the room was illuminated with a dancing flame. I watched as the fire ate the wood until I started to feel the pain of the heat getting to close. I let myself feel the pain for a moment and then blew on the match, set it down on my bare leg, and lit another. This time I just held it close to my thigh, feeling the heat. Then I stabbed it into my skin. I grimaced with the pain and blew out the match, grabbed the other match, and slid them into the box. I then placed them next to the candle behind the curtain, behind the painting that still waited to be hung up.

“I’m sorry but I don’t think I can do this anymore. It’s just too hard. I’m… I need a break. A break from us.” She sat with pain in her eyes as she spoke the truth she’d been hiding for weeks.

She looked at me with worry and concern, waiting for a reply.

“I love you so much but I just can’t deal with everything right now. I don’t want to hurt you. This hurts me too.”

I had yet to look up from my lap. I felt my face get hot as my vision blurred, then tear after tear ran down my face. I refused to look at her. I couldn’t. It hurt so bad. I hadn’t expected it.

“Darling? Please say something.“

My heart ached as the word, darling came from her beautiful mouth.

“I’m sorry.” Was all I could muster up.

“Hon, don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault.”

Tears were coming faster now. “Then why does it feel like it is?”

“I’m so sorry…” She reached her hand out and touched my knee. I didn’t want her to stop but it hurt so bad.

“Please. Please leave. I need to be alone right now.”

She hand lingered on my knee for a moment but she got up and turned her back to leave. I lifted my head to watch her leave and as she walked out the door, she turned back to me, tears streaming down her face and we locked eyes for what seemed like forever. And then she was gone.

I sobbed for hours in the dark and when I could sob no more, my mind went over every detail, telling exactly where I fucked up. And for each mistake I had made another cut was made on my skin.

-----

The look on their face when I said ‘darling’ was incredibly painful. It hurt me to see. I told myself I wasn’t going to cry and yet I did. And they saw. I didn’t think it would hurt so much. I love them dearly but it was killing me. This is better in the long run. Yes, it’s better for the both of us.

-----

I layed there contemplating it. I still held the razor blade in my hand and there was still blood coming from my self-inflicted wounds. I looked at my wrists and back at the blade. Then without thinking, almost as if it was an impulse, I made the blade cut deep and cut true on my left wrist and my right wrist. I smiled as the warm, dark red blood flowed down my hands, to my fingertips, and dripped onto the floor. Soon there were two puddles of crimson on either side of me. I looked to the corner and saw death slowly walk over to me. It reached its destination, kneeled and smiled. Then it outstretched it’s hand towards me. Just as I felt consciousness start to leave me, I took death’s cold hand.

xxxxx

A/N: This is a story that evolved from a poem I wrote. Slightly based off my life experiences.

[ladytrollfishes]

Cresce and Shupaa: Make an Acquaintence

You don't get out of Arkady as often as you like, really. You're in Ghoulisar on business of course, but that doesn't mean you can't take a little time to yourself. Ghoulisar had an excellent creamery- you hadn't tasted all their flavors yet so you stopped by for a cone. You bounce through the streets, working through your cone and sorting through the melodies of the passerby on the streets, separating strings that trembled with every day stress, brass that burst with the joy of a good song, xylophones of excitement, bass of fear- the every day melodies of the crowd pass you readily as they shift through their thoughts and the physical space  around you

.All but one. It's been trailing for you awhile. A combination of boredom and tense anxiety constantly radiating you while you travel around the city. Someone's following you. You don't know Ghoulisar as well as you know Arkady, and Ghoulisar doesn't know you as well as Arkady! It's your signmate, you're sure. You turn off into a corner.

Kitty | neriticNomad12/31/2018

Your new assignment is unusual in nature, but the process is the same. You have a mark. You have informants, then, information. You follow the trail until it takes you to your mark, and all of it happens like clockwork. The difference is that you aren't allowed to kill her, which means your job is exceptionally harder. You keep your eyes straight ahead. They never view your target directly. 

You see her in reflections, and in your peripheral vision, but never more than that. She's easy to watch, because she doesn't seem to be expecting you, and unlike other marks you've had, she doesn't seem to have anything to hide. It isn't your job to speculate, but your mind still wanders: What could Lyrian want with her? What's the long con? And why go so far as to hire you? You say none of this out loud.

The only sign of your thoughts are the waves of pensive cerulean, which pass over the light of your implants, before fading back into neutral jade. You stick out a little, when you aren't trying to hide. 5'6" isn't a terrible height, and your boots push you up to 5'7". The real intimidation comes from the strange-looking machinery in your body, so you hide it, with long sleeves, high collars, and a hood, which hides your implants from view. You distract from it, with a leash, and a medium-sized two-headed dog at the end of it. 

Everyone loves a cute dog. Your mark makes another move. You wait, and give her room, then follow. Your senses search the area for anyone that might be lying in wait, but perhaps, tonight, you're a bit more relaxed than you should be. "Cress" hasn't given you any trouble so far. Why would she do so now?

Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)12/31/2018

You listen for the melody to follow you, waiting around the corner and take a nice long lick of the ice cream. It's a cherry garcia and dark chocolate flavor. Very good, but not your favorite so far. You've been taught a dozen different ways to lose a tail, but you don't plan on using any of them tonight. You want to know what this stalker is here for. So when you hear them coming around the corner you turn back like you made a u-turn and smash your ice cream right into the center of their chest.

 "Omigosh!" you exclaim. "I'm so so so sorry!" You make a show of pulling out a hankerchief while you take a look at whose been following you. Covered face, walking a lusus, could have been a jogger, really. There's a glint of something from under their hood but you can't quite tell what it is. Jadeblood. You take a moment to consider if this might be anyone besides your signmate, then dismiss it. Your position in Torrent is solidly middling, Melete's not the sort to leave this work to someone else- no it had to be her.

Kitty | neriticNomad12/31/2018

Your lusus has two heads. Asterion isn't very talkative. She tends to speak only when she feels a need. Chara, on the other hand, loves the sound of her own voice, and that's the head that barks in alarm, when your mark collides with you. You take this exact second to realize just how badly you've fucked up. Now you just need to fix it. Unpleasant, but necessary. The words of your strength trainer echo, momentarily, in the record of your memory: Muscle up, buttercup. "It is fine," you start, neutral and expressionless. You lift your mouth to where it's visible, with no protruding teeth, and only a few haphazard marks. Most trolls have a few. It's nothing special. 

"Forgive my... carelessness." The reddish-colored ice cream sends an unpleasant chill through your sensory receptors. Your gloved hand scrapes the bulk of the ice cream from your chest, and flicks it to the side- oops, that was too hard. You dented that trash can. Way to go, Becvar. "... Are you offering this cloth for my aid?" you ask, but it doesn't sound like a question. This is why you're not a birdie. You can't fucking talk to anyone.(edited)

January 2, 2019

Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)01/02/2019

Oh honey no. The stalker blares of alarm and anxiety. Her words come out neutral, and the line of her mouth you can spot from under her hood barely moves, even when she speaks.  Her words drop like gravel on glass and when she dents a trash can with more strength than you'd expect from a jadeblood and her melody is mournfully mortified. You'd wince except for the fact you're actually a little charmed. You take another moment to mourn your taste. 

 "Of course I am," you witter, blinking at her and offering her the handkerchief. It'd be rather forward of you to press it to her chest,  but you do consider it. She's either too uncomfortable to refuse or uncomfortable enough to do something even more drastic and you can't be the judge of it just yet. Better to pull your punches. "You weren't so careless at all," you exclaim. "It was a complete accident, and your shirt is ruined! Let's get some water on that. And let me buy you coffee as an apology? There's a cafe right around the corner where we can get both."

Kitty | neriticNomad01/02/2019

As if your situation couldn't get worse. If you survive this, you'll consider different employ. (That's a joke. You'd never change jobs, and you're most certainly going to die.) "... That is... very thoughtful of you," you pronounce, slowly, but the alarm bells are still going off in your head. The glowing lines in the side of your hair run red with anxiety, as your computers run the calculations. If you say no, you'll seem suspicious when she sees you elsewhere. She knows how to spot you, having seen you up close. If you say yes, that's direct contact with a mark, and you don't do direct contact. You do the opposite of direct contact, which is staying the fuck away. If you were killing her, this would be convenient, but you're contractually forbidden from doing that. Briefly, you ponder if Lyrian would understand, if you explained the situation. ... Likely, no, which is a shame, you think.

 "... This offer seems favorable," you decide, finally, interrupting your silent beat. You take the handkerchief, visually scan it for any hidden hazards, and dab, somewhat mechanically, at the spot on your shirt. It would be difficult to poison you this way, and you're wearing gloves. There are no blades or concealed weapons, or at least, not ones you can pinpoint, with the knowledge in your databank. Indeed, the handkerchief doesn't kill you. You record this data for future analysis, and schedule a virus scan. The handkerchief stays in your hand. You want to rinse it before giving it back to her. 

 "Are you quite certain you wish to fraternize with an unknown person?" you ask, studying her from beneath your hood. The red light in your implants fades, but stays red. You're on alert. "Dangerous individuals are present in the vicinity." That's you. Potentially, that's her.(edited)

Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)01/02/2019

Her alarm only grows as you speak, and she's slow to find the words to respond to you. You wait patiently, pleased as punch that she can't even figure out a good excuse to try and get out of it. Instead she resorts to vague intimidation, like she can threaten you, in a city full of imperials and you're a trained soldier of the empire. It's positively adorable. You beam at her and you don't even need to fake it. 

 "A stranger's just a conversation away from being a friend," you explain patiently. "But you're so sweet to worry. I insist! We're so lucky, this café is one of my favorites. They have spiced apple cider to die for, but the coffee is also excellent!" You smile down at the fluffy lusus at your feet too. "And they're lusus friendly. Let's go!" "What's your name anyway?" you exclaim as you take two steps backwards before you turn, keeping your eyes on the stranger. Was that a slip of red light under hood you saw before?

Kitty | neriticNomad01/02/2019

That's the moment you realize this isn't a friendly offer. In fact, it wasn't a question at all. She was making a demand, and the saccharin in her smile promises more than you can handle. There's a flicker of yellow - fear - which runs across your implants, before being washed out by the red of baseline anxiety. They'll likely stay that color, until you find a way to leave.

 "Charm-ing," you say, and your eyes don't leave her for a second. You walk. The night air bites at you, through the damp stain in your shirt. You can't reroute your sensory input, which means you have no choice but to endure the double discomfort of being here, and feeling exposed. Your peripherals stay on her, even when your focus shifts away. Asterion and Chara don't know what's happening, but Asterion keeps looking back at you, under the mop of her fur.

 "I am called Maera," you say. You don't give her your hatched name. Again, you contemplate incapacitating her, but you have too many witnesses, and you don't know what she's capable of. So, instead, you have to pretend you know how to talk to people. "What are you called?" you reply, even though you already know. Maybe you'll glean something useful yet.(edited)

Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)01/02/2019

Oh, well she's got sense enough to be afraid, her melody flickering with a little tremble of fear. Perhaps she's realized you aren't quite the ditz you're pretending to be? It's a little disappointing, really, you were wondering how long you could string her along without her realizing you know what you need to know. You don't expect for a second that the name she gives you is real at all, but at least she shows some respect for social normalities. 

“Call me Cress!" you exclaim with a smile, and spin into the coffee shop. It's a quaint little thing with a little stage you've performed on occasionally, enough that you're familiar with the staff, at any rate. There aren't too many customers at this time of night, but it's busy enough that you won't be overheard, at least. 

"Hiiii," you say as you approach the counter. You only know the barista by sight, but they're all wearing name tags. They smile as you approach. "Hey Cress! Glad to see you're back in town," they say. You steal a glance at their name tag. Heliop. "Glad to be back!" you exclaim with a smile. "Could I trouble you for a cup of water? I'm such a klutz, I dropped an ice cream cone on my friend here by accident. Also could i get an apple cider and a-" You turn back to "Maera" for a second, hesitant. "What kind of coffee do you like? Oh, and a treat for the lusus."

Kitty | neriticNomad01/02/2019

"Heliop," as their name tag informs you, stands about an inch shorter than you. They're green, somewhere towards olive, but the low, filtered lights of the shop are coloring everything just slightly yellow. They drum their fingers across the counter as Cress speaks to them, but the way they lift their wrist tells you they've taken piano lessons - without thought, their hand forms the same shape it should when resting on a keyboard. They have a moderate amount of confidence in their work. It must have been a slow day. They seemed relieved, when you first walked in, to have something to do. Very slow day, in that case. 

 "Mocha," you finish, for Cress. You glance up at the menu, briefly, and add, "Peppermint, if possible. ... Mother does not like to share. The medium biscuit, please." You'll break it in half. Asterion and Chara don't need to know. Cress - Cresce - is in her element. She's enthusiastic about this place, and she never once drops her cheery attitude. You file away the location of this shop in your databanks, note the exits, and memorize Heliop's general features. The location of her "favorite" coffee shop is promising information, in some small measure. If Cress knows your real purpose, she likely won't come back, but that's the great part about being bound to Alternia: A troll can only run so far before they run out of room. If you have to track her halfway across the planet a second time, you will. When the server turns away from you, you eye Cress again. "Do you come here often?" you ask, which is the most cliche thing you've unknowingly done, ever.(edited)

January 7, 2019

Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)01/07/2019

Maera doesn't ease very much, even when ordering for herself and her lusus. There's a moment of casual consideration and affection as she orders a biscuit, and then more careful tense beats. You can barely see her face from under the hood but you bet she's watching you. You take care not to seem like you're watching her either, keeping your eyes on the desserts they have on display as you review the information you do have. She's not a spy, that's for certain. She's almost as bad as Melete at conversation. She has to be at least on par with you strengthwise, as easily as she dented that trash can, despite being nearly halfway down the spectrum from you. That feeling, too, when you crashed into her, the glint of red you caught from under her hood.(edited)

Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)01/07/2019

The hood was an interesting choice. They were pretty much only good for keeping your ears warm. They blocked your peripheral vision. The were obvious. Having your hood up constantly was more noticeable in a crowd than if it was down. Despite popular media, hoods were generally very bad for stealth. Unless, of course, whatever was underneath it was more noticeable than the hood. If you placed bets you'd place them on Maera being some sort of augmented cyborg, built for power rather than stealth. An assassin, most likely. Someone who didn't want to attack you in public at least. Plausible deniability perhaps? Did your signmate hire someone to kill you? That surprises you- she did seem more like the type to get her own hands dirty, so to speak. You press your hand to your collar at the unpleasant memory. Fucker. 

 She's still doing recon, obviously, otherwise you'd have noticed her following you ages ago. Most people doing wetwork dangled on the edge of legality and the murder of an imperial agent by a mercenary would draw far more attention to her than she'd like. It would be difficult to pull off an assassination of an imperial soldier in the middle of Ghoulisar, and she'd need to know as much about your habits and commonly frequented locations as possible if she were to make a getaway. She's even bold enough to ask you about your coffee habits.You giggle as she asks. 

"Whenever I'm in Ghoulisar! As often as I can, really. I love this place." 

Depending on how this conversation turns out, you're obviously never coming back here without company. "Here's your order," Heliop says, and slides you two drinks and a biscuit. "Thanks!" you exclaim, handing the biscuit and the mocha to Maera. "Hold on, you grab a seat first. Heliop, can you grab me one of those apple turnovers actually? Sorry to tack something at the end of my order like that, but just looking at this batch makes me hungry!" It wouldn't be the first time you had coffee with someone who desperately wanted you dead. Only Maera isn't desperate. You wonder what she wants. Not just with you, but as a person. What sort of person took a job as insane as this one?

Kitty | neriticNomad01/07/2019

A person who doesn't see any other choices. Her next line doesn't follow the script. Something is wrong. You take note of it, but it's a small enough divergence that you don't think now is the time to panic. Maybe. Probably. You hate the uncertainty of all of this. Killing someone is easy! They're either dead, or you need to try again. Cress is confusing you. You're not sure yet if it's intentional. Regardless of your reservations, you take your drink. You don't see any reason to speak again, and, not being one for needless words, you find a place to sit. This is an alchemy on its own. You want something where your escape route is quick and easy, and you don't have your back to any current patrons. You choose a seat by the window, for a few reasons. The first is that you want to keep her guessing. If you really wanted to kill her right now, you'd choose something more discreet. 

Again, you remind yourself, you're not trying to kill her for real. This is for show and information, but that kind of nuance usually gets missed when observed in situations like this. The second is that it grants you security, too. Trolls are a little less likely to kill someone if they know it's on display. Murder tends to be a private affair, usually, unless she's one of those bloodlust exhibitionists. Then you guess you're royally fucked. You sit, uncomfortable in the cushioned chair. Chara and Asterion sit at your feet. Asterion is still watching Cress, but Chara is more focused on the biscuit in your hand. You hide it under the table as you break it in half, and you feed portions of Chara's half to her, little by little. You need her to stay with you, and stay quiet. Cress has a game. You don't know what it is yet, but you're pretty sure you don't like it. Thinking about what might come is making you more uneasy, though, so you focus on pinpointing her center of balance, and other physical attributes, filing these away in your memory.(edited)

Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)01/07/2019

The seat Maera picks is between you and the door, with her back to a window, with a clear view to anyone who may approach. The turnover is a useless exercise then- an excuse to move past her and snatch her hood off when necessary but at least it'll be delicious. You smile at her as you wait for your pastry as you pick your next move. She's so very clearly uncomfortable- you don't suppose assassins usually get bullied into tea time with their targets. She knows something's up. You assume she knows what your actually place of employment is, so you're certain she knows you're up to something, but her uncertainty speaks volumes about her experience in dealing with spies. The apple turnover slides over the counter, warm and spiced, and you breathe in the buttery aroma.

"Oh that smells so good," you say. "Thanks, Heliop!"You don't waste a moment before you bite into it, and take a sip of your apple cider. Ghoulisar did have a good apple crop. Arkady's were fine, in and of itself, of course, but there was something special about apples here. 

 "Oh, it's so good," you moan, as you slide into the seat across from Maera, placing your cup and pastry on the table. It's small, the sort of table with space for maybe two husktops, no more. Your knees could bump hers if you slid down in your chair, but you don't. You keep your back straight as you wash down another bite of your pastry and get down to business. You finger slides behind your ear to give the patch of tech there a scratch- with your mind you set your wetware to record. You're not armed, but Maera doesn't have to know it. You give her a wink and make a finger gun with your left hand, and slip your right under the table.

"Just so you know," you say with a smile, and lean forward, keeping your other hand carefully under the table, "I've got one of these under the table and pointed at your lusus." You tangle the lusus leash with your foot and step down. 

 "So maybe don't make sudden movements," you say casually. "She is actually yours, right? You seem quite fond of her. Shooting a bullet into you seems like it might not work but her?" You click your tongue and shake your head. This is why Torrent made certain to remove lusii from the equation. It was a mistake to bring her on a job like this. "So let's talk," you say, leaning forward.

Kitty | neriticNomad01/07/2019

You knew she was up to something, you just didn't think it would be this. You didn't think any troll would go as far as to threaten a lusus, and it's why you even bothered to train yours for your job. Chara whines as the leash gets pulled, and somewhere under your cold shell, there's a spark of concern. It runs lime-green across the lines of your implants, just before it trips your emergency overrides. Then it - the worry, the color - they both disappear. One of the scientists who works on your implants protested this measure. They said it was "cruel." If you were capable now, you might agree. As it stands, you aren't. 

In dire situations, the computers in your brain can strangle your emotional response, and turn you "cold," as it were, until you reach stasis again. It's supposed to make you more efficient. It's supposed to ensure you actually do your job. 

 "What do you wish to talk about?" you say, and you keep your voice even. The lights under your hood have gone dark, so the only light comes from what's reflected in your eyes. "I have little I can say." You have water capsules at your belt. You just don't know how quickly you could manipulate the water, and if your draw would be faster than hers. You're not immune to bullets, but you'll let her keep thinking that you are, if only so it gives you that millisecond advantage. You should have killed her.

Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)01/07/2019

Something curious happens to her when you make your threats- the anger, the fear, the concern, those you all expected, the offense that you would do such a thing- well, honestly, dear, what did she expect? Carrying a vulnerability out like that in the first place? But that cacaphony  cuts off for a different sort. Her natural sound drops to a whisper as static plays over it. Wetware, perhaps? To keep her from intense emotions? Interesting. There's not even a twitch on her face to indicate the change. "Well for starters," you say, musing, a hand on your chin, like it's nothing but a casual coffee chat. "Why don't you take off that hood? I do so like to look a person in the eye when we're having a civil conversation."

Kitty | neriticNomad01/07/2019

You stare at her for a moment longer than necessary, expressionless. If you could feel anything right now, it would probably be resentment. However, ultimately, you comply. Your gloved hands let go of your lusus's leash. Fingers hook into the fabric, and pull it back from your face, then behind your head. You're jade, and it's obvious from the color that fills your irises, accented by the light tones in your skin. You have no facial scarring, no protruding teeth, and fairly average ears - long, but not excessively so; pierced, but only with studs. Your mouth doesn't move, and your eyebrows stay flat, your eyes on her. You'd look very plain, perhaps eerily so, if it wasn't for your hair - shaved into an undercut, with lines of tech sprawling across the sides. As it turns out, replicating psionics requires quite a few hookups to the brain. Go figure. She can't see it, but those lines connect at your spine, and then disappear under the high collar of your jade-marked coat. As your hands retreat, you take the opportunity to pull a water capsule off the belt across your chest. You hold it in your glove, black against black, and try to slip it past her notice. It's insurance. Even without your emotional response, you still have enough dry humor to ask, "Do you like what you see?"(edited)

Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)01/07/2019

She takes a moment to consider your request, and you wait patiently as she struggles with it. Her hesitation tells you almost as much as her compliance. Her face is plainer than you expected, honesty. No unusual scars, no pockmarks from battles long past, or brutal disfigurements from implant injections. That was more imagination than you needed in your day to day life, honestly. She definitely wasn't wrong to keep the hood up- that sort of tech isn't common, and something you assume requires a lot of maintenance if she has to keep her hair shaved like that. The static keeps you from necessarily hearing what she's feeling- though you assume quite badly would be the answer. Her face is as emotionless as her voice though, so honestly you guess this was mostly just a power move. You know what she looks like now. You smile cheerily at her. "Well, you're pretty cute!" you exclaim. "Not exactly model material though. But there, isn't that better? Now we can see you." "Now, why are you following me? You're not doing it for your own reasons." You take another bite of your turnover.

Kitty | neriticNomad01/07/2019

You just don't like to be seen. If you could block people IRL, you would block everyone you ever met. The low-profile thing is just a bonus. "No," you confirm. Her teeth are pinging your danger sense every time she smiles. Annoyance fires, but you don't feel it. "The interest is strictly professional." 

 She seems to know how to navigate these kinds of conversations quite well. You wonder, for the third time tonight, why Lyrian bothered with you, and didn't even try to warn you that she'd be on the lookout. She isn't just a mark. She's a mark who has been marked before, and evaded them, and that gives her the upper hand. 

 "This is a job. Your name was given. You were tracked. There is nothing else to say." This is the strangest questioning session you've ever been in. Annoyance fires again as she bites into the pastry. "To reveal my employer would be destructive to my reputation. Unless you are hiring me to find them, it is against contract to discuss further. Is this acceptable?"

Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)01/07/2019

You take another bite of the turnover as you consider what she was told. Only the job, and your name. No information about you? You know your signmate knows what you do for a living. She's got your name, and also Rumisa chattering in her ear. You sigh, blink prettily and drink from your cider. For the first time, you're not smiling. 

This isn't an assassination. It's a test. And it's not to test this little green pawn either. She's testing you. If she wanted you dead, she'd have given this girl all the information she had on her. Your psi, your position, your friends- then this conversation would have gone much, much differently. You ponder your options. "Let me guess," you say finally. "Your employer is a stunning mirror image of my face with the bonus of a slathering of subbjugulator paint. Goes by the name Lyrian? I'm very sorry to say, but I believe you've been a little bit set up!"

Kitty | neriticNomad01/07/2019

Why does every employer you work with have deep-seated emotional baggage? Can't you just get sent to kill a local annoyance, just once? "You realize that confirming guesses is also against the contract. Confirm?" 

 But it helps. Little by little, she seems to be easing off the trigger, and as you lean back into comfortable stasis, your override unlocks. The implants on the sides of your head burst into your jade green - neutral - as your emotions return. You still don't take your hand off the water capsule. You don't take your eyes off her, not even for a second. 

 "You already know what can be said. This is not in the contract. Make a better offer, or leave well enough alone." The computer in your head coaxes you into adding a "please" to the end, because you're speaking to your better, even if you were hired to hunt her.

Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)01/07/2019

The implants at the side of her head spark green, and the radio static stops, much to your relief. She sounds annoyed, but not as tense as the conversation starts with. Even getting brave enough to bite at you! You can't help but laugh at that. It's tinkly. You worked hard on that. 

 "Leave well enough alone!" you exclaim. "When you're the one following me. I don't see how I could simply ignore it." You smile coyly up at her and lean forward on the table so the tuft of hair that dangles out from your forehead frames your face. 

 "The set up, dear," you say, "Is that I'm not a regular person you can follow around, though you've probably figured that one out. If she wanted you to succeed, well!" You snort a little then lower your voice, watching her carefully for her reaction. "She would have told you I work for the empire as an interrogator," you murmur. "I have their resources behind me if you do in fact, move against me. You'll be much better off breaking that contract with her, trust me."

Kitty | neriticNomad01/07/2019

Oh. That's cute. On a second thought, you realize this is probably the point, and push it from your mind. She drops a bomb on you, and you can recognize that she's looking for you to be outwardly shocked. You won't be, because you never emote, but in your mind, yes... you're sort of surprised. It confirms the growing suspicions you've been having, ever since Cresce first "bumped into" you, but it confuses you, too. And you also don't understand why both Lyrian and Cresce are so god damn dramatic, until you spot her sign, and... Yes, okay. That tracks. You humor her by raising one of your eyebrows, briefly. Then you put it right back where it was. 

 "Congratulations," you say, even as ever. "There is a correction to be made, however. If she wanted me to succeed, she would have allowed me to kill you." You don't think you mind breaking your contract, if you were set up to fail in the first place. "She did not. If you have gotten what you wanted, will you cease threatening Mother?" you ask, which doesn't sound as exhausted as you feel while saying it. Lyrian is stranger than you first assumed. Cresce, too, is strange. You don't like the fact that they seem to know each other, and that you now seem to be implicit in their personal dealings, but that can't be helped much anymore. However, you note one thing: Cresce is on the defensive. She's not asking you to go back out after Lyrian, though she may be planning a strike to execute later. This doesn't seem to be a two-way fight. In fact, if they're signmates, it hardly seems fair at all. You pause, and then say, "It is not against contract to share the methods used to find you, should you desire it."(edited)

Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)01/07/2019

You hear it, the symbol crash of surprise as you let her know what you're capable of. A suspended chord sounds as she sorts out her confusion, her eyes glancing over you, before it resolves to a major chord. Then, as a delayed reaction, her eyebrow raises. You grin at her. Wasn't that adorable? She manages to surprise you though, by what she says next. You assumed Maera was here to kill you. 

The idea that Lyrian would refrain- that she would specifically hire a trained assassin to follow but not attack- well. Well that gives you pause. And then again, when she offers you help. Unexpected! That wasn't pity you heard, you don't think. You'll have to find time to review the recording. Usually you'd have to work at an offer like this, and she just hands it to you. You take a deep sip of your apple cider as you consider it. Murdering you isn't on the table, you don't think. Not if she's offering to help. You don't hear any trace of fear or anxiety that usually comes with laying out bait, and all she's really offering is information. Learning she was set up, must have really turned her off of Lyrian, which could be useful. You'll make concessions, you'll think. It was time to deescalate. And you find yourself rather curious about Maera! As a person.

“It’s hardly all I want,” you say, “but alright.” You motion as though holstering a gun and place your right hand back on the table. You don't lift your foot from the leash. "Well!" you exclaim. "So long as it's not against the contract!"(edited)

January 8, 2019

Kitty | neriticNomad01/08/2019

You've decided that you hate trolls, and you'll stick to just killing people from now on. They're much less talkative, and they tend to be less demanding, too. "There is a matter of reputation involved," you say. You turn the water capsule over in your hand, then... slowly, re-attach it to your belt. You do this in full view of her, not breaking eye contact. She doesn't know its significance, but that lack of knowledge might help, because - cruel as it is - you want her to feel a little bit closer to the unease you feel here. 

 "Employers are protected because they talk. No one succeeds in this business without a reputation. Personal quarrels are not so simple as cutting ties and washing hands. To speak without heed of the contract makes one appear unreliable, especially when the conversation will not end with someone dying." Because you're not going to kill her. You should have, earlier, but it's too late for that now, better luck next time. Now you're just tired, because she's acting like you selling out your clients isn't a big deal, even if those clients set you up. Those clients are terrifying. They could do horrible things to you, or they could make sure you never work again, or both. You rest your hands on the table, now, fingers knit together.

"We are still in a public space, no matter how quietly we speak. There is security in that, but not enough to willfully break contracts. Make a better offer." You hope, to whatever gods would listen to someone like you, that she isn't the type of highblood to make her offers solely on threats. You'll take it, but that doesn't mean you have to like it. Threats don't pay bills, usually.(edited)

Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)01/08/2019

You watch as Shupaa places something, you don't know what, carefully cautiously into the belt draped across her chest. It's a de-escalation gesture, and the sparkle of spite tells you she's making a point of letting you know you hadn't had her all wrapped up around your fingers. You hadn't even realized.  It had to be a weapon of sorts, then, one she had in her hands, that you had no idea what would do. You wonder, briefly, how different this would have turned out if she really was out to kill you.

 Her yammering about contracts and reputations makes you want to roll your eyes but you refrain. The tune she was singing would be very different if they were where you usually conducted these things. In a blank, sealed room with a two way mirror. But no, that's too much trouble to bother with for this. You didn't want to drag your personal dirt into Torrent for everyone to prod at. And if anything was personal, Lyrian was. Maera had nothing you couldn't stand to lose, if you threatened her and forced her and she objected. But on the other hand, how useful would someone like her be? You like playing the carrot better than the stick anyway. 

 "Then let me ask," you say. "Why are you in this line of work?" You take another long drink from your apple cider. It really was quite good.(edited)

Kitty | neriticNomad01/08/2019

There's a beat. You're... left at a loss. Your face doesn't change, but inwardly, you have to process this question a second time before you answer. You still haven't taken a sip of your own drink. It sits, untouched, between you and your interrogator.

 "Opinions are not relevant to the work," you say, finally. "They are unnecessary. This question, too, is not relevant." It's a cheap escape, but it's what you know, because you don't have an answer for that - because you've never needed one before. It never mattered to anyone else why you do what you do. You feel vulnerable. You decide that she's trying to get under your skin. 

 "A request for understanding may be in order, but this is not the way these talks go. Please explain why you feel a need to explore opinions and personal feelings. You were asked only for an offer, and if you have none, we have nothing more to discuss." 

 Under that same skin, you hope you won't have to leave. You don't remember the last time you were in a restaurant, talking to anyone, when you weren't on a hunt. Your memory concludes it hasn't happened before.(edited)

Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)01/08/2019

The discomfort is a chord that doesn't go away. You prop your hand on your chin as you think over her answer. You've met people like her before. People who have only traveled the path set in front of them, people who were loyal to it simply because they thought of nothing else. People answered you honestly before- power, money, justice, some ideal they slammed down on the table and spat in your face for, but the most interesting answer was one that didn't exist. A blank slate. Her discomfort with the social setting and the conversation, the tech she has and her complete lack of personal consideration- well. Well that was interesting now, wasn't it! You take another sip of your cider. "How am I supposed to offer you something when I don't know what you want?" you ask simply.

 "If it's just money well. That's no real issue. But what if, with all the resources I have at hand, I could... do something else?" 

 You raise an eyebrow in question and take another bite of your pastry. This wasn't strictly necessary, no, but you have to admit you're curious. There's a person in there, behind all that tech. You've heard her. And whoever that might be, might be grateful for a little more than a job to do.

Kitty | neriticNomad01/08/2019

"Personal desires are not relevant to my func-tion." The stutter-step of your words is an unfortunate side-effect of your condition. She mistakes you for a person, and you aren't - not in the usual sense, anyway - and it's setting you down paths of thought that you aren't equipped to handle, putting strain on your systems. It's almost as bad as the last time the science team tested you on paradoxes. You shut down for a week. 

 Your lusus had laid down under the table during your discussion. She picks up on the break in your speech, though, and Asterion nudges her nose against your ankle. You only know this because you take one brief moment to look away from her, and down at your mother. This gives you enough time to collect your thoughts, and make a decision. 

 "Money would be acceptable. Payment will not be received for the work in these past two weeks. This will be a financial hazard. However, it would be equally hazardous for an employer to decide that too much has been said." Lyrian doesn't seem to be the understanding type. Although, so far, you've held to the letter of your contract, your employers don't always see it that way - especially since you can't report much back. Cresce caught you, but you had been declawed. Lyrian has special interest in Cresce, and in keeping her alive, at least for now. She has no such qualm with you, and it would be very inconvenient to die. You look at her, and let your hands fall back in your lap. "If you have the capability to keep such a thing from happening, or to prevent it in some way, there is potential to make a deal. Can you?"(edited)

January 9, 2019

Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)01/09/2019

Personal desires are not relevant to my function. Oh my god. She even stutters. You school your face still- it wouldn't do now for her to think you're laughing at her. The poor dear, she's got her personhood tucked neatly away, doesn't she? Personal desires are not relevant to my function when you can tell how badly she wants this conversation to end! Like any other person in her position would. It's sad, really, but alsoooo. Hilarious. You tap your chin as you think about your options and how you can do this. "I assume you won't consent to protective custody?" you ask, with an eyebrow raised. "Officially registering you as my informant will give you legal protection. Lyrian's no longer a part of an imperial organization, save the Messiahs, so it will force any retribution to the courts, especially if you do give me good information on her." 

 "That's assuming everything's aboveboard," you say. "And of course, as an informant, you get paid however much i deem necessary for the information you give me." Birdies aren't exactly your field of expertise. You're an interrogarroter, not a field spy. But you know the basics of the system, and it's open to all Torrents. Maera gets registered and all information you get from her is catalogued accordingly. The only people who get to see everyone's individual list of informants were the people at the top. Everyone had leeway to obtain and manage their own informants, and while it wasn't meant to be used as a personal thing, well. Lyrian's record is plenty shady. All you really have to do is say you have suspicions of illegal activity for grounds for surveillance. Sure someone might pull you off the case for conflict of interest, but all that would get you would be pulling you off the case. You play your cards right, no one could nail you for abuse of resources.

Kitty | neriticNomad01/09/2019

"No, un-fort-un-ate-ly." She knows your answer already. Good. You have work to do, and as much as dying would be inconvenient, being held in custody indeterminately would potentially be worse, especially because you wouldn't have something to do. But the other idea has potential. "Registration is acceptable," you clarify. "What qualifies as 'above board?' The current path of employment cannot simply cease, if that is what you mean." 

 Your work, at least so far, is technically legal. Probably. You've heard and seen things that have certainly broken laws, but for the most part, you're a means to an end - for revenge cycles, for people with grudges, for anyone with a chip on their shoulder. If Cresce means that she wants to monitor that activity, that could potentially be bad. But then again, could it be worthwhile, for a short time? ... "This will require clearance through someone else, as well. However, it seems acceptable." You have to talk to the lab. Ultimately, she'll have to talk to the lab. You're still their project. They're still testing you.(edited)

Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)01/09/2019

The sound of hesitation and confusion leaks out of her questioning your terms, and you realize that you were probably not as clear as you could have been. "I know your work dabbles in less than legal things," you say dismissing her concerns with a wave of your hand. "What I meant was that this should protect you, unless Lyrian murders you quite suddenly from a dark corner. I may be able to press charges, but you'll be beyond caring I'm afraid!" 

 "Legally this agreement is little more than an agreement that I pay you as I see fit when you give me truthful information," you say. "I could always request something particular, but you and I are both aware you could simply choose to withhold it." Your smile is a little thin. Really, you would find out if she did anything of the sort, and she wouldn't like the consequences.

"It's a fairly free agreement," you continue, "Though if you are found to be passing on false information to the empire, you understand the consequences." You tap your fingers against your chin as she mentions someone else, and you quirk up an eyebrow in a question, even as you tick off that mental checklist of suspicions as confirmed. There was always going to be a handler for characters like this. "Someone else?" you ask.(edited)

Kitty | neriticNomad01/09/2019

You don't say what you're thinking - that you hope Lyrian won't, in fact, do that - because you know, vaguely, the way this works. She's feeding on your intimidation and fear. Even without her once-charming smile, you feel as if she's the hunter between the two of you. It's not a good feeling. It's worse when she asks you what you mean. You think there's a fan that turns on, in the back of your neck, trying to cool down your body and keep you stable. You want to evade this question, and your scan for any listening ears turns into a scan for an escape route quite quickly. But you opened this can of wrigglebeasts. 

 "Arctophi." You watch her. "Labs. It is presumed this does not come as a surprise." You have a pen. You take a napkin, and write lightly on its surface, Arctophi Labs, followed by the contact information. This will put her in touch with one of the leads on your project. It's a quiet lab, but they're an imperial pet project, kept somewhat under wraps while they develop their technology. Their aim is to replicate psionics with enhancement tech, and use that tech to create more powerful assets to the empire. You're their project, and while they improve their experimentation, you test their tech in the field. You hesitate only a moment longer, pondering the napkin, before you give it to her.

 "If you are imperial, your security clearance should suffice." If it doesn't, you have no doubt she'll find her way. She seems intent on digging up everything she possibly can. "They will know to expect your call." You don't think they'll have any issue with it. They may even be glad. This is a new arena to test you in, and you found it on your own - or, more accurately, it found you.  Still, it isn't your place to suggest it. The details are above your heavily-modified head. It's better they stay that way.

January 10, 2019

Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)01/10/2019

The beat of her melody is slow, resigned, as she tells you, she assumes you've figured out that piece of the puzzle- and well. She isn't wrong. You give her a mysterious smile. Things were a little more fun when Maera was left lagging along, but now she was catching on. The name she gives you is unfamiliar to you- you slide the napkin over to you and carefully study the words and numbers before you tuck it into a pocket. You'll find out soon enough. "Alright!" you exclaim brightly. You gesture between you with a flick of your fingers. "Sooooo what are you going to tell Lyrian about this little exchange?"

Kitty | neriticNomad01/10/2019

This isn't a prompting to tell her the information you've gleaned. Admittedly, it isn't much. You mentally tuck it back into its appointed file folder, and try to think of what you might actually say. 

 "Data is insufficient to say whether Lyrian is capable of seeing through lies. True honesty would likely be unacceptable. There is little desire to give her true information on you." She probably already knows it, too, if she sent you in blind this way. "The most likely plan of action will be to develop a false report, which follows what happened today, but altered, with no mention of this discussion. She is not following or spying on the work so far, but risk-taking does not seem acceptable. Does she know about your favor towards this establishment?"(edited)

Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)01/10/2019

You tap your chin and consider the cards in your hand. You share a power with Lyrian, and that would mean sharing hers means sharing yours. It's not a far leap to make, with what you've done here and the fact you share a sign. No, you decide. No sharing. There's a third party at work here that you know nothing about and that means keeping your own exposure to the minimum possible. 

"No," you say simply instead. "I don't believe so. But let's make some adjustments to your plan." You sit forward, putting your weight on your elbows as you smile.  "Lyrian undoubtly has expected us to have a conversation, not necessarily this one." She has to know that your powerset makes being tracked very difficult. The test she's giving you here isn't to find out you're being tracked, but what you do with it. That's what you do if you were in her place after all. "What you should tell her is that I noticed you following me, confronted you, and accused you of being her pawn before assaulting you and running," you say, holding her gaze before nodding at stain on her shirt. "Work in the ice cream too if you want."

Kitty | neriticNomad01/10/2019

As she speaks, you commit the information to memory. It's a simple task. You've been working with your own internal computers for some time now, and writing the data away is the easy part. The hard part is making sure you retrieve the right data at the right time. 

 "Understood." This means you need to keep the ice cream stain, though, and you're not thrilled about that. "There are no other signs of a struggle," you point out. "Will this cause suspicion?" You don't know how well Lyrian knows Cresce, but she started this conversation by cornering you, then threatening your lusus. You'd like to think she'd put up more of a fight than just throwing ice cream at you.

Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)01/10/2019

You shake your head. You never even tried to hit her the one time you met face to face. "Tell her that it was a public place and people were looking," you say simply. That's part of the reason why you hadn't done anything more at the ball. If you were going to pocket Maera as your own pawn, then you'd have an advantage on her. If she thought you were weaker or more incompetent than you really were, then perhaps she'd make a stupid move. Perhaps she'd tell Maera something she really shouldn't have. Of course, that would depend on Maera not getting caught. "When are you to report to her?"(edited)

Kitty | neriticNomad01/10/2019

"As necessary." You check the time. The only outward sign is a flick of your eyes to one corner, out in space, before returning to her. "Reporting will be done in person, as soon as there is information to report. This would qualify as information to report. Departure may be as soon as eight hours from the present time." 

 The extra time is to accentuate the story. If you act as if you spent time trying to re-track Cress, only to have her evade you again, you'll look slightly less like a hunter who didn't know how to do her job. And finally, after all that, you take a sip of your mocha. It's careful - the cup blocks as little of your field of vision as possible, and certainly doesn't block anything you can see of Cress. "Your input has been noted. Will you desire a report when the meeting is over?"

Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)01/10/2019

You nod with a smile. It was so cute, the way she finally drinks that coffee, like a feral cat trying to lap up a few drops of milk , with those big eyes fixed on you like you'd steal it, or attack her or something. As though you haven't basically gotten what you wanted from this game. 

 "Yes, that would be great!" you say. There was just the concern of Lyrian discovering the lie. She'd be as good at it as you were, if not better. She did have more experience after all. "Don't worry you'll be fiiiine," you say with a flap of your hand before you hesitate, and place it to your chin again. "Well... it might be good to be a little worried. She probably has a sadistic streak." You mime a grimace. 

 "Subbjugulators, you know," you say almost conspiratorially. "They get creative." The more afraid Maera would be of Lyrian, the harder it would be for her to tell what exactly was she afraid of. You take another bite of your turnover and groan. "God this is so good?" You tear off a piece and hold it out to Maera with a smile. "You want some?"(edited)

January 11, 2019

Kitty | neriticNomad01/11/2019

You're fairly certain Cress is fucking with you at this point. Fear pings at the mention of subjuggulators and what they might do, which is a healthy response that any reasonable troll might have. It's strong enough that it turns the lights of your implants yellow to match, as it takes emotional center-stage. And then she follows that up by offering you a piece of her food, and you stare blankly at her. What? Does she expect you to trust her, after having just made both vague and direct threats? You have no evidence to prove what she's giving you isn't poisoned somehow. You're reasonably certain she didn't tamper with your coffee, but the pastry is another matter. She's had that in her hands from minute one. ... You take the piece, and begin scanning it for toxins. You have no accessible record of trolls having venom, whether in their teeth or mouths, but that doesn't mean she couldn't. The number of hazards one could put into a piece this small are relatively low, but even small dosages of some could prove fatal, or could, at the very least, incapacitate you.(edited)You find nothing, from visual or tactile scans, and nothing from olfactory scanning either. The papery pasty flakes off as you turn it over, and with your finger, you delicately push these flakes into a concentrated pile. Speaking reasonably, outwardly turning down her offer now could be offensive. That would be bad, tactically, and you can't find any reason not to eat it... So you do.

 Most of your taste sensors are not equipped for actual tasting. With limited usefulness to your project as a whole, they were designed to pinpoint toxins and ingredients, by matching taste data to different profiles stored in your memory. This over-analytical process is a long way of saying that you don't enjoy what you eat. You just eat it. Enjoyment doesn't help you do your job, and like your emotions, would probably only distract you. The only taste that manages to break this pattern is mint. It's cleansing, and it's one of the only things in your accessible memory that you remember from before the experiment. As you eat the pastry piece, slowly, thoughtfully, your implants begin to fade from yellow, back to green. Now you have a new problem: You aren't sure what to say. So, after you've finished the piece (you definitely did this in two parts, even if it was a small piece, just to be sure about the poison thing) you finally say, 

"This is acceptable. It has a variety of apples." Nice. Nailed it. Perfect.(edited)

Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)01/11/2019

She lights up yellow, yellow, with fear, like a little cobra spreading its brightly colored hood- except of course she can't strike you. Not now. You can't understand why the scienterrorists would work something as flashy as that into her design but it's kind of adorable and you have to stop from pressing a hand to your chest in sheer delight.

You wait patiently as she methodically and carefully examines the pastry you gave her as you chew on your own piece. She tastes it, hesitant, then eats the rest and chews it like she's chewing oats. And what she says- you laugh. You can't help it! It's so awkward! "Oh aren't you just a dear," you say, and grab another napkin. You untangle your foot from her lusus' leash as you grab a glittery blue gel pen to write your number. "Call me when you have something to tell me," you say, drawing a heart at the end and coloring it in carefully. "I'll expect to hear from you soon."

Kitty | neriticNomad01/11/2019

You're embarrassed, and it makes yellow light fade in, then right back out after a brief moment. It wasn't that funny. The glitter pen is a surprise. The heart is even more so. You look at it with wariness, commit the number to memory, and then... tuck it away in your coat. Normally, you burn everything you receive. This, though, you'd like to hang onto. You stand from the table. "Understood." Your lusus, freed from the confines of Cresce's foot, trots over to you, looking quite pleased. You pick up your coffee, and after Chara picks up the leash for you, you leave without another word.

> End thread