#so she decides it's not too bad even if she's out of place. but she would like to learn the language do she can swear

[fierceawakening]

Yes! That’s… less of a clear answer than I feel comfortable with to join a movement or admire its leaders, but it’s something.

I always get the sense in conversations like this that people are much more comfortable than I am just being like “who cares about the edge cases?”

I care about them, both because I’ve *been* the victim of things committed by people too deep in their mental illness for anyone who tried to convince them to stop, and because if we truly believe everyone is a person (which I see as a key tenet of leftist values and part of why I choose them over right wing values in the first place) then we believe some things are too cruel even for people who do horrific things.

So I don’t see it as an issue we can avoid.

Also like I’ve mentioned I work at a homeless shelter. The reason a lot of academically inclined leftists can talk about crime like it’s rare is because they don’t spend time in environments where people who’ve committed crimes are common. I don’t think they’re wrong that most people are basically good, but I think they can be naive about what it takes to convince someone crimes are not a great idea. If someone has a patten of criming, it’s because that’s what they believe works for them. Getting them to stop is about changing their outlook and habits, which is far from impossible but a lot slower and more bumpy than many people who never did much criming want to think.

Also I think a lot of people really don’t have an accurate picture in their heads of serious mental illness. I think very often people have an idea that even very acutely ill people are fairly rational, and you can usually help them deal with their anxiety, give them meds, whatever, and they improve a lot. Again, I don’t think this is fundamentally incorrect; disease isn’t destiny. But having interacted with a lot of people whose illness is particularly intractable, I think that people often have… the same kind of image in their mind, where they don’t really understand how incremental incremental can be.

There are many people, including one client I’m very morose about, who improve a little when treated well, but a little isn’t enough. My moroseness? That client has been banned for fighting, unless she appeals the decision and wins. I don’t *like* the thought that she’s going to lose her place here and that’s likely to only make things worse… but I don’t have the fundamental confidence to say that kicking people out for violence is too cruel, we can make sure it’s fine. Making sure it’s fine is very clearly above my pay grade, and while there are people with more experience and better degrees than me I don’t have the impression they’re less confused.

All of which says to me that deciding we’re ready to stop imprisoning people who do bad things is at the very least premature (and to their credit a lot of abolitionists do agree that prisons will be phased out over time.) I think it’s unrealistic not just in a way that paints a rosy picture of humanity (as a whole? My picture of humanity is also fairly rosy!) but also in a way that fundamentally ill prepares us to really help perpetrators in ways that matter.

[mathitas]

The seven (and Nico and Will) take care of you when you're sick

HOO seven plus Nico and Will x Gn!Reader

Percy

When Percy realised you were sick, he got even more protective over you. He wouldn’t let you go fight or exercise and tried to keep you in your cabin most of the time, even dealing with Mr. D’s lectures.

You couldn’t even fight back when you saw his efforts in making you feel better.

He tried making you comforting (blue) food, and he always told you how his mother always used to make it when he was a young kid.

He’d be so annoying, to be fair, but he would also pamper you a lot, getting you everything you’d ask for, except letting you do anything that would tire you out. You were sick! Let him do it instead! You need to rest!

“Let me get up,” you whined as you struggled to get Percy off of you, “no! No training for today, doctor’s orders,” he hugged you tighter, trying to keep you still. You just struggled more, until you eventually gave up. “You’re not even a doctor” you sighed and he just gave you a cheeky grin, “but I’m your boyfriend.”

Annabeth Chase

She’d stay in bed with you, reading a book, even reading it to you, if you asked so. You just loved hearing your firm girlfriend’s voice when you were sick. She’d gently explain everything her book said to you since it was about complex architecture, if you didn’t understand the chapter well.

She’d also request for you not to do much for the day and scold you if you decide to train anyway. She’d ask you to at least let her help you if she really can’t stop you.

She’d hold you and probably make fun of the way you sound and sleep when you’re sick, just to be mean to you and watch you smile and get mad at her comments.

“Did you actually fall asleep?” she asked, as she finished reading a chapter she got particularly passionate about. She sighed as she got no answer before a smile took over her face. “You look like a duck, a very sick one” she chuckled to herself before closing her book and planting a soft kiss on your forehead before drifting off to some rest as well.

Jason

He would try to keep calm and stay collected, but he’s actually worried as hell. When he saw you all sick and weak, he couldn’t help but think you were dying or something. So he would try to stay close to you, and get information about how you were feeling quietly.

Once you told him you’d get better soon, he calmed down a bit, but he was still worried. You could see how he always kept an eye on you and stopped you from doing anything, just telling you he’d “do it for you”.

He would genuinely do anything you asked him to, and when you started to get better, you might have heard him sigh from relief.

“Your face is hotter than usual,” he says, his sight switching from the wall to your face quickly as he adjusted his glasses nervously. “Yeah, I’m sick,” you answered, and he visibly tensed up. You could see him slowly scooting over to you, placing your head on his shoulder. “I’ll be fine a few days.” He just nodded. “Is that so? I’m glad? Oh, stop. I’ll get it for you.” He put an arm over you and you tried to grab the termometer, and got up to get it himself

Leo

Leo would whine a lot about how you weren’t able to cuddle with him properly, or train with him, or spend time with him. Not that’s gonna stop it. If you told him you’d didn’t want him to get close to you so he wouldn’t get sick too, let me tell you… this boy DID NOT care!!!

He wants to hold you and make you feel better. Hell! He INVENTED a special dish to make you feel better, which is inspired by his mother’s special recipe.

He’d make you watch your favorite shows with him, holding you in your cabin, as he completely ignored Mr D’s scoldings (he asked for Nico’s help to get rid of him. Good thing Nico was his friend, kind of).

If you complained about him being too hot, he would loosen his hold on you (reluctantly) and probably feel a bit bad about it. But what do you want him to do? You’re all sick and cute like this;let him cuddle you!

“Hey, what do you wanna watch?” he asks as he puts the covers over you. You mumbled against his shoulder and he chuckled, “Yeah, I understood that.” He teased you as he held you a bit closer to him. “Can you make me some more?” you asked softly, pointing to the empty bowl. He looked at you happily before nodding, “thank you, Leo”. He kissed your hand as he got up and said, “No need to thank me, amor.".

Frank

Frank would definitely panic at first, getting nervous about how to treat you, especially the first times it happened. He didn’t know what to do since he was shyer early in your relationship.

However, that didn’t stop his protective side from showing.

He would probably be surprised by how frail you looked, and felt an urge to protect you like he never did before. You were a pretty impressive demigod after all, and now you looked so weak and in need of care. Of course he was gonna give it to you.

You appreciated it even more, knowing how shy he would be normally, and took all the love happily.

“Here, I got you something. It’s gonna make you feel better” he says as he handles you some medicine. “Thanks, Frank,” you said and you noticed how he didn’t walk out your room. He looked down and his face was red. He didn’t want to leave. You got up and hugged him, and he hugged you back softly. “Stay here,” you asked, and he nodded, “of course.”

Piper

Piper would be extra sweet to you, bringing you treats and offering to spend the whole day with you, to take care of you. She would accept whatever decision you make, secretly hoping you’d choose her company.

She’d ask you to do something with her, to spend time, and find some excuse to take care of you. She’d also ask if you’re just up to resting, if you said yes, she’d hold you softly as you rest against her. She wouldn’t dare to move.

In a modern AU, just know she'a gonna take a lot of pictures just because she thinks you look cute like this.

She’d probably consume some media as your eyes are closed, or read something, and she feels the happiest she’s been in a while, after everything she went through, to have you just relying on her on your sick days.

“You’re really cute, you know that?” he said softly, as you mumbled in your sleep at the sound of her voice. She chuckled as she tried to keep as still as possible. Her quiet laugh filled the room, other than your soft (or loud) snoring. She sighed happily, and gave you soft scratches, putting you into a deeper sleep.

Hazel

She would spend all of your sick days trying to find an healing spell that wasn’t too rough for your simple cold. Or whatever it was.

However, she’d do everything you ask her to do. Like, if you pleaded her to stop searching for a cure, and just spend some proper time with you, she would leave everything she was doing just to make you happy. Even tho she’d still try to find something when you’re asleep or closing your eyes.

She’d also be kind of shy at first, and wouldn’t make the first move to cuddle you if you didn’t ask first, but she was very happy when you did and she couldn’t help from enjoying herself when she got to hold you close.

She also saw you as someone she wanted to protect in that moment, and now she had you all to herself.

“Hazel, come here.” You whined as she repeated some spells silently. “Wait, I think I found the one.” You just sighed and she stopped reading out loud. “What is it?” she asked quietly.“Just spend time with me, please?” you asked, and she smiled shyly. “Alright, I’m coming.” In a few minutes you were in her arms, and in a few minutes you were out. You wondered how you were feeling so much better after a few hours’s sleep, but you quickly got your answer,

Nico

He would try to act like it was not a big deal (and it probably wasn’t) but he also wouldn’t leave your side. No way he would, genuinely. You’re stuck with him. And you couldn’t feel luckier. THE Nico Di Angelo cared about being with you through your illness, your sweet sweet (and kinda emo) boyfriend.

He would be way sweeter than usual, he’s usually pretty sweet, but he would get not only protective, but even sweeter than normal.

He’d stop you from getting out of your bed, and force to move to his cabin, because it was a “more sterilised place” than your room and you would feel better easier.

You complied, because he was right. And he cuddled you when you asked him to, even tho he tried to hide how happy he was about it.

“Hey, what if you get sick because of this?” you ask as you snuggle against his chest, “then it’d be your turn to take care of me,” you chuckle weekly, as you let out a few coughs. “You’d be insufferable,” you complain jokingly. “I always am.”

Will

Will would honestly be the best AND worst option for this. He would make you feel better immediately and be the most annoying one about it too. Gods, he wouldn’t let you do anything. He’d keep saying everything he was asking you to do was “doctor’s orders”, and not only that, you genuinely had no other choice but to do it.

We all know how annoying Will gets otherwise. You just couldn’t deal with that. And he was very proud about it.

He’d take you to the infirmary until you feel better, and trust me, you’re going to get better fast. He’s putting all of his care on you and he’s not gonna stop until you’re 100% healed.

But, if he were the one to get sick instead, he probably wouldn’t let you do much for him. He’d never really say no to some pampering.

“Will, come on, I’m good already!” He shook his head as he stopped you from getting up, “your nose is still stuffy, no way.” “Ugh… Will, come on.” “Nuh-uh, doctor’s orders,” he insisted, before you complied again “doctor’s orders, my ass” you mumbled, “what did you say?” he asked, even tho he heard perfectly, and you just rolled your eyes and said, “nothing, nothing.” He just laughed at you, and gave you a soft kiss on your cheek.

[ladykailitha]

The Au Pair Boy Part 5

Hey! This will take a short break until December then it will begin posting on Fridays to take place of The Hellfire Exotic Club.

In this we have all Robin and Steve with a little cameo of Chrissy. Steve just needed a little bestie time.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

~

Steve stared at the little black card in his hand. He had waited until he had gotten one in his name before using the account, even though Eddie had said that he was already an authorized user and the bank had been told that Steve would be using it immediately.

He just didn’t feel comfortable with doing so. So Eddie had one overnighted to him to make sure he could get whatever he needed as soon as possible. It was his first day off since Eddie left, Steve having refused to take one until he was sure the girls could handle it.

So here he was with his best friend standing outside of an Ikea with a black credit card and a dawning sense of dread.

“If I go in there,” he huffed, “I’m never coming back out again. You know that right? These places are cursed.”

Robin burst out laughing. “I think the power of your newly minted black credit card will act as a talisman of getting lost by the power of capitalism.”

“If you say so,” Steve scoffed. “If I don’t escape, I am totally blaming you, I hope you know that.”

She grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the entrance. “Come on, you big baby.”

They were looking at sheets when she spoke up again. “I think it’s really cool he’s allowing you decorate your room.”

Steve chuckled as he weighed the two options in his hands. “I think it’s because he really wants me to stay. If I put effort into my own space and get really settled in, I’ll be less likely to want to move.”

“Any spicy texts from ‘Daddy’?” Robin asked wagging her eyebrows suggestively.

“No.” He bumped her with his hip. “Knock that off. Yes, he is hot and sweet and funny, but I’m not going got cross that line. Especially not with him currently traveling the country with his metal band.”

“That’s too bad,” she pouted.

Then his phone rang. He put the dark blue sheets in the cart and the light blue ones back on the shelf and then he answered the call.

“Hey, Chrissy,” he greeted. “What’s up?”

“I hate to call you on your day off, Steve,” she began. “But Joanie can’t find her elephant plushy and she’s on the verge of a meltdown.”

Steve pinched his nose and sighed. “That’s because she insisted she wanted to bring Mr. Puff and Stuff, her wolf plushy instead. Snuffymuffie is still out the house.”

The sound of absolutely agony echoed through the phone line. Steve could almost feel her soul leaving her body from here.

“It’s on her bed with all her other plushies,” he assured her. “And when I come pick them up tomorrow I’ll bring mint ice cream.”

“I love you, Steve Harrington,” she breathed. “You are a saint among men!”

“No, just a seasoned nanny,” Steve replied with a chuckle. “Now go on before she decides that you’re ignoring her pain and starts wailing.”

Then wailing could be heard at full volume through the phone causing even Robin to wince from the sheer sound of it.

“Too late.”

Steve stared at his phone for a moment or two after she disconnected. He turned to Robin. “How is this my life now?”

“Don’t ask me,” she said with her hands up. “That couldn’t be me. I like kids in short spurts not long hauls.” She pointed to the phone in his hand with her chin. “So who was that then?”

“Chrissy Cunningham,” he replied pocketing his phone and pushing the cart forward. “She’s Eddie’s manager. Usually she goes with them when the band tours, but for the first little bit he wanted someone who the girls knew close on hand.”

“So why didn’t she take the kiddos?” Robin said, falling instep next to him.

“Because she still works,” Steve said. “So she can’t watch them during the day. Plus, Eddie had been wanting to get a live-in nanny for awhile. So this solved both problems.”

“Do you miss it?” Robin asked. “Having your own space?”

Steve wasn’t sure what she meant. He had his own space and told her so. That was what they were shopping for after all. Decorating his space.

“I meant an apartment of your own,” she said a little exasperated. “Like you really don’t have any freedom. It’s not like you can paint it all pink with white fruit everywhere.”

“I could actually,” Steve said with a shrug. “Though the example Eddie used was neon orange with brightly color rainbow dicks everywhere.”

Robin blinked at him for a moment. “But what if the girls saw that?”

“It would probably be explained as a banana and a couple of peaches or whatever,” Steve said, waving her off. “But that’s not the point. The point is that if I wanted to buy a racing car bed and make everything chrome, I could. I just don’t want to. It’s a gorgeous room, I want to add to it, not make it into a hellscape or whatever.”

“So what’s with all the nautical stuff, then?” she asked picking up the back of fake seashells.

“It’s very dark wood and deep blues,” he explained snatching them back from her tossing them back into the cart. “I makes me feel like I’m sailing on the ocean. But I also want to give it a haunted vibe, too. To go with the rest of the house.”

“I’m really going to have to see this place,” she huffed.

Steve stared at her for a moment. “I thought that was the plan. I thought you were coming over after we were done shopping to help me set everything up.”

“I wasn’t sure I was allowed to be there when it was just you,” she said with a half shrug.

“I’m allowed to have friends over,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “If I break anything, he just asks that I let him know. He’s got four year old twins, like I’m pretty sure anything fragile or expensive was put away a long time ago.”

Robin blinked for a moment as she processed that thought. “Right. What was I thinking?”

“You weren’t,” Steve huffed. “Now come on there are ten million miles to get through and I would like get through this before I die of old age.”

She scoffed but let him lead her through the store as he asked for her opinion on some things and to get her to mock others.

By the time they reached the check out, their cart was overflowing with all sorts of fun things for his room. Or rather, as Steve had learned. Wing. An entire fucking wing of the house was his. It had his bedroom, the bathroom, a small sitting room/library, and fucking kitchenette for entertaining guests.

He paid with the card Eddie had given him, both Robin and the cashier’s eyes went wide.

The cashier kinda gave him the stink-eye, like ‘what are you doing in an I-fucking-kea with a card like that?’ But Steve steadfastly ignored her and grabbed his packages.

“Why did we go to Ikea?” Robin asked as she helped load up his car with the stuff he bought.

“Because what I wanted was here,” Steve said rolling his eyes. “More expensive doesn’t equal better quality.” He slammed the trunk closed and got into the driver’s seat.

She rolled her eyes back at him, but wisely said nothing. He was the one with the ultra credit card and she wanted nachos from her favorite Mexican restaurant, something she would not get if she pushed Steve too far with the card. She could tell he was uncomfortable having it, so it was sure bet Eddie had insisted.

When they got to the house, Robin was in awe. She could see why Steve had fallen in love with the place. It gave off that tastefully haunted vibe of the Addams Family. Inside was even cooler as Steve showed her around. The only places they didn’t go were the Munsons’ bedrooms and Eddie’s studio and office.

But Robin was okay with that when she saw the game room, and the movie theater and the swimming pool and the actual fucking library. Here was a guy who took his money and put it to tasteful use.

“This is really neat,” she said as she flopped on the sofa in Steve’s study. “And this all yours?”

“Until they get old enough not to need me,” Steve said with a shrug. He began putting things away on the shelves. “Which is probably at least ten years off, maybe more if I’m really lucky.”

“Here’s to that,” Robin said, impressed. “Is he looking for another nanny? Because damn, I’d love a sweet place like this.”

“No,” Steve said and smacked her with his dust rag. “Get up on your feet and help me Missy!”

She leapt to her feet to get away from the dusty rag. “I surrender! I surrender!” She opened the first box and got to work sort things into proper piles so Steve could them away as he went.

“He’s looking for almost everything else though,” Steve said as he put books on the shelves. “Like everything else. A gardener or two, a couple of grounds maintenance guys, a cook, a pool cleaner, a couple of maids. All that sort of stuff.”

“Wow,” Robin said, opening another box, “that’s pretty much everyone. What happen, he fire everyone at once?”

Beat.

“Wait, what?” she said, whipping her head up to look at him. He was looking at the floor biting his lip. “What happened?”

“His ex slept with everyone on the staff who would let him,” Steve mumbled, “and those he didn’t sleep with kept it from him. With having no one trust, he just got rid of all of them.”

“Holy shit,” Robin hissed. “Way to upend the kiddos’ entire lives.”

“Ethan or Eddie?” Steve said with a shrug and grabbed the nearest pile of books to start shelving.

“Oh, totally the ex,” Robin hissed, “what an asshole. And the fact that all of them colluded to keep it from Eddie? That’s the major dick move. How long has he been struggling to do it all on his own?”

“About a year,” Steve replied absently as he tried to decide whether or not ‘Good Omens’ would go under G for Gaiman or P for Pratchett. He decided on Pratchett since it was the name on top. “I think his friends staged an intervention a la reunion tour to force him to move forward with his life.”

She snorted and shook her head. “Men. I am so glad I’m not attracted to them. Emotionally stunted morons. Well most of them anyway.”

“Anyone can get overwhelmed, Robs,” he huffed picking up his last stack of books. “I’ve gotten a few prospects for the yard and swimming pool.”

“Yeah, I was noticing how overgrown everything was,” she agreed, “even if the vibe was haunted house.”

Steve sighed and plopped down next to her. “I didn’t even show you what the gardener’s shed looked like or the pool house. He really let everything go in his grief. He didn’t say anything to me, but you can tell he took the break up really hard. This was his person. The one he thought he was going to spend the rest of his life with. And then Ethan went and blew it all up with no explanation, just a gigantic mess to clean up.”

“Well, I’m glad he has you,” she said bumping him with her shoulder. “And I was only joking about the being hired too. As long as I get to visit this place and hang out by the pool on occasion, I’ll consider it even.” She held out her hand and Steve took it with a smile.

“I think we’re all done in here,” he said standing up and dusting off his knees. “Bedroom is next.”

Robin got up and looked around his little study. “I’m happy for you, Steve. I think you’re going to be really happy here.”

Steve smiled. “I already am. I know it’s only been a week since Eddie left and ten days since I was hired, but I really don’t want to screw this up.”

She hugged him tight. If anyone deserved a fairy tale ending it was her platonic soulmate. Now all she had to do was convince him to get flirty with the hot frontman of Corroded Coffin and her boy would be set for life.

They walked into the bedroom and got to decorating it. When they were done, she flopped down on the queen size bed, spread eagle.

“We should order in and watch horror movies on that massive screen,” she suggested, staring up at the ceiling.

Steve cocked his head to the side and tapped his lips thoughtfully. “Make it pizza and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Fine!” she huffed, seeing her dreams of loaded nachos flutter away.

He kicked her foot, causing her to sit up abruptly. “Buy your own nachos, you big baby. You have a job. Or at least you did yesterday, so unless there is something you’d like to tell me you can get your own.”

“You’re a real bitch, Steve Harrington,” she huffed, hopping off the bed. “Tell me again why I like you?”

“Because you get to watch Jamie Lee Curtis in full high definition projection,” he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek and then walked out of the room.

“Wait!” she huffed, scrambling to catch up. “He has the original ‘Halloween’? You can’t just drop that on me and run, Harrington!”

Steve giggled as he ran down the stairs, with Robin hot on his heels. He cut a corner tightly, causing her to careen into the opposite wall.

“Curse you and your jock reflexes!” she hissed as she pushed herself off the wall to continue her chase.

By the time she had caught up with him, he was already on the phone with the pizza place. “At least get something with vegetables! You don’t want scurvy!”

“And one medium raspberry lemonade and one large cherry limeade,” he said with a wink at her. “Yes that will be all.”

“All that sugar!” Robin huffed. “I don’t know how you don’t kill over from sugar shock or something with all the sweet stuff you eat and drink.”

“Because I exercise and eat right most of the time,” Steve said back. “Diet culture is such BS, your body needs sugar to function. It’s why I put it in my tomato sauce when I make it from scratch.”

“Betrayal!” she cried and flopped on the sofa. She tilted her head for a moment and then melted into said sofa. “This is a really soft sofa, Steve. Everything here is so soft. I don’t know why but I pictured everything being so hard and stiff and uncomfortable.”

“Eddie certainly isn’t your stereotypical rich guy,” Steve agreed. “And I think this place was soft before the girls, because I think Eddie likes soft.”

Robin looked at her best friend fondly. She could tell he was already in love with this Eddie, he was just very deep in denial.

They had their movie night complete with pizza and drinks. One of the pizzas even had vegetables on it. For her. And when Steve dropped her off the next morning, she was content in her knowledge Steve wasn’t just going to do well there, he was going to thrive.

~

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @tartarusknight

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @ollieolive

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @sadisticaltarts @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @dolphincliffs @steddie-as-they-go @steddieislife

10- @kultiras @morallyundefined @themoonagainstmers

[novankenn]

What If...

Pyrrha was also under the sway of Salem Cinder and Pyrrha love each other (Pompeii) Jaune and Emerald are married (Topaz) Jaune and Emerald have a child (Jasmine Esmeralda Arc) Jaune and Emerald are on the run from Salem & Ozpin

Scene : A cheap motel in Argus

==> @cheeseeater2 - What if Nora and Ren find Jaune and Emerald with the kid and let them go if only for the child to be safe. Jaune says even if they hate him forever he loves them and hopes they can be happy one day.

Of all the things Ren and Nora expected after hearing that Jaune had left with Pyrrha during the fall, and then discovering that he and Emerald were on the run from Salem's agents. Finding himself held at gun-point by the man he used to consider a brother, was not one of them.

It had been a stroke of luck, finding out Jaune and Emerald were expecting. It was through idle chit-chat with the other tenants of the apartment building Jaune and Emerald had been living in for the last almost year... before vanishing days before a fire gutted the building. So as they continued their counter operations against Salem's machinations, they kept checking local medical centers and hospitals.

At a stop over in Argus, about a year after the last lead that went cold at the apartment complex. Nora had decided on a whim to check the local hospital, and much to her utter shock she caught site of Emerald leaving with a bundle cradled in her arms. So cautiously she followed the obviously new mother, tracing her back to a rather shabby motel.

A scroll call and Ren was beside her with in twenty minutes. A hint of intimidation and they had the room number. The flimsy wooden door was no obstacle for Nora. She was through it at the first hit of her shoulder. Ren was inside a fraction of a second after Nora burst through the door. The screaming of a startled child, and the yells of a young women, filled the room. But what Ren really focused on was the cold barrel of a rather nasty pistol being pressed against the center of his chest.

"You don't want to do this Jaune." Ren calmly informed his former team leader. "This will just make things worse."

"You right Ren, I don't want to do this, but to protect my wife and my daughter... I will." Jaune replied, his voice measured, and forced like he was fighting the potential of his own emotions surfacing. "Back away Nora."

"Jaune, why?" Nora asked as she stepped back away from the door she had just smashed in.

"I made a mistake." Jaune replied. "Both Em and I did."

"And what do you call this?" Ren asked nodding towards the pistol pressed against his chest.

"Protecting our second chance." Jaune replied. "Em, are you and her okay?"

"We are, she's just a little scared." Emerald answered, as she gently rocked the bundle in her arms. "Shush that's okay sweetie. It's okay, daddy will keep the bad people away from us."

"We're not... bad people." Nora countered.

"Really?" Emerald asked. "You've been trying to find us for years. Chasing us from place to place. Making us uproot, time and time again just so we can have a life away from all the bullshit."

"But..."

"We made mistakes. We were lied to. Led on." Emerald cut Nora off. "We figured it out too late to stop them, so we left."

"And have Ozpin's and Salem's minions dogging us all over Remnant." Jaune added. "We're out. We want to be left in peace. We know nothing, nor do we want to know anything. We're out."

"Jaune, you know..."

"Who says it can't be that way? Ozpin? Salem?" Jaune countered. "Fuck them and their little war!"

"Jaune, language!' Emerald hissed as she continued to placate the fussy infant.

"I'm sorry, but the point remains. We're out. We just want to make a life, for us and our daughter. A quiet life." Jaune expanded upon his original statement. "Both of you away from the door."

"Jaune, this isn't the right way. Come back with us? Ozpin can..."

"Ozpin is a failure." Jaune rebutted. "If he had any brains or sense he would have at least had an idea that Salem was trying something after the breach."

"None of us..."

"No, we didn't." Jaune agreed, "But we we're students, why would we have? The ones in power should have been protecting us. Like I will Em and Jas."

"Jas?" Nora asked as she moved as far from the door, as she could without getting any closer to Emerald or the infant. "Is that her name? Jas?"

"Jasmine Esmeralda Arc." Emerald informed the group. "She's named after our mothers."

Jasmine started to fuss more.

"Is she..."

"She's hungry." Emerald answered as she adjusted how she was holding Jasmine while lifting the left side of her shirt to feed her bundle of joy.

"I'm sorry it came to this." Jaune commented as he moved himself to be standing between Emerald and the now sitting Nora and Ren, his pistol still trained on Ren. "I never wanted to hurt you, either of you. You mean too much to me, but..."

"Jasmine and Emerald mean more." Nora finished his statement. "I can understand that."

"Are you truly happy Jaune?" Ren asked, keeping his hands flat on his lap, in clear view. "I mean really happy?"

"I am." Jaune replied. "I... we made our mistakes, but Jas is the best of both of us, and she deserves a future."

"A future you're willing to kill to protect?" Ren asked.

"You need to understand, Ren. I don't want to, but I will. To protect Em and Jas, I will put down anyone that comes after us."

"What are you going to do now?" Nora asked, trying to lean just enough to see Emerald and her baby.

"Same as we always do when you two or Cinder and Pyrrha get too close. We'll leave, and find somewhere new."

"That's not much of a life." Ren commented. "Always on the run. Is that fair to Jasmine? To Emerald? To you?"

"If I could change it. If I could fix it, I would... but there's fat chance of that happening, isn't there."

"Can I... can I hold her?" Nora tentatively asked. "I won't do anything, I swear, I just... I just feel this need..."

"I don't..."

"It's okay Jaune." Emerald cut him off. "I trust her enough not to hurt Jas. She's not the type."

Emerald stood, up after burping Jasmine, and slowly approached, keeping out of Jaune's line of fire. She loved him, wholly, and she understood is consuming drive and need to keep her and their daughter safe. She had the same compulsion.

"Watch her head." Emerald softly instructed Nora as she lay the precious bundle of joy. Jaune and her little miracle into Nora's arms.

"She's so small." Nora whispered, a sad smile on her face. "She's so small."

"Jaune, put it away." Emerald smiled at him as she crouched next to Nora who was completely enamored with little Jasmine.

Jaune hesitated for a fraction of a moment and then reached up and pushed the pistol back up into his sleeve. Ren heard the click of the mechanism resetting.

"Ren," Nora softly spoke. "We can't keep chasing them. We need to help them."

"Nora?"

"She's so small, and innocent. She shouldn't have to suffer for Jaune and Emerald's mistakes." Nora commented her eyes never leaving the beautiful if but slightly chubby face. "This is a fresh start for them... and us."

"Us?" Ren asked.

"I hate what Pyrrha did. How she used us all. How she broke our trust... but I want to help protect this little one. I want to do that more than chasing Jaune or Emerald." Nora made a kissy face as Emerald smiled. "Everything we're doing is about the future right? Protecting it?"

"I guess." Ren responded.

"Then let's help them. Let's let this little one have the family the Grimm robbed us of..." Nora's eyes started to tear up, emotions she thought long gone washing over her.

"It's okay, Nora." Emerald comforted her one time enemy. "It's okay."

"There might be a way." Ren sighed as he spoke. "Because to be honest I'm tired of chasing you Jaune."

"If it's any consolation, we're tired of being chased by you." Jaune gave his former teammate a soft smile.

"Would you stay in Vale, if we could get you in without anyone knowing? If we could help you get settled? Would you stay?"

Jaune looked to Emerald who was still hovering over Nora, rubbing her back in gentle circles as Nora tried to get control of her emotions. Emerald gave Jaune a smile and a nod.

"I would, if we can be safe. Unmolested?"

"Only Nora and I would know. Not even Ozpin will be any the wiser."

"Tell me why?" Jaune point blank asked.

"I want my family back together, despite the mistakes we've all made." Ren replied. "You're our family Jaune, and we miss you."

"I miss you as well." Jaune responded.

"So, can you really help us? Keep us secret and safe?" Emerald asked as Nora, at Emerald's urging, transferred Jasmine back into her arms.

"We can." Ren replied.

"No," Nora spoke her voice breaking slightly. "We will."

Jaune swallowed hard, and moved forward, his arms spread accepting Nora and Ren into a hug that had been forever in the making. A familial embrace they had all missed.

[kigieri]

Wiser

Fernando Alonso × Reader

A nice birthday breakfast with your favourite person.

A/N: A birthday post for myself! Even though it has already been some time. It's short and sweet, just something I gifted myself. It is really hard for me to capture the way Fernando speaks English. I gave it my best shot.

This story on AO3.

It was nice to be able to celebrate her birthday with Fernando. There was no bad blood over him having to spend this time of year at a racetrack halfway across the world, but it was nice to have him home for it, too. They could celebrate together, and even had the time for a little party with friends and family.

She woke up to Fernando stroking her hair, lightly so as not to wake her. She stretched as much as possible without actually compromising the comfortable position she was in, and stretched her neck towards her lover for a kiss. "Happy birthday, hermosa." His voice was a bit rough from sleep, but she could practically hear him smiling.

After turning around, she laid her head on his chest. "Good morning," She muffled into his chest. A slight chuckle could be heard from him. "Do you want to stand up or stay lying?" She craned her neck to look up at him from her lying position and raised an eyebrow. "Stay."

Fernando nodded, returning to stroking her hair. After laying together for another half hour, they decided it was time to stand up. Fernando made her sit down at the little table in the kitchen. They found it more comfortable than the big one in the living room. He was not fond of cooking and refused to do it most of the time, but for her birthday he scrapped together all the talent he did not have, as she slyly remarked.

A few minutes, and her helping out, later, they had food in front of them. In between, they talked about plans for the winter break and what they had been up to while apart.

"If we're spending Christmas in Spain, should we spend new years at home? I think that would be nice." Fernando nodded, not seeming convinced. "Do you want to go to the Alps?" She looked up from her plate. "You don't like it that cold." He shrugged his shoulders. "I will survive." A smile crept onto her face.

She had wanted to spend new years in the Alps for a few years, but had repeatedly indulged Fernando's, and her own, love for warmth and had returned to sunnier places. Him suggesting, offering even, to spend a week in the high altitudes made her feel giddy.

She took a sip from her cup, smiling silently. They had talked about getting engaged, both thinking that they were far enough into their relationship and secure enough for the next step. This meant that Fernando might plan a proposal, either around Christmas while visiting his family, or over the year change.

"I would like that, if you're really okay with it." Fernando waved his hand. "Can go skiing and cook a lot, will be nice." After that, they continued their breakfast until Fernando looked back at her.

"What do you want to do in the morning?" They had planned a get-together with their friends for the evening, but for now they were free. She shrugged her shoulders. "Just want time with you." All the time they spend together was precious, his career often separating them. "We can stay a bit and then maybe go to the harbour. Maybe drive out a bit." Fernando nodded, always up for a bit of boat driving.

After standing up and refilling their plates from the stove, a mischievous grin took over his face. "How does it feel? One year older?"

She rolled her eyes. "We talked about this, I'm getting wiser. Just as you are." Fernando chuckled lightly. She picked up a bit of food and chewed it before muttering, "And a bit older."

Silence settled over breakfast, broken only by a remark here or there. After they finished, Fernando took on the cleaning duties. She walked up behind him, sliding her arms around his waist and laying her chin on his shoulders. "Thank you, this was really sweet."

Fernando shook his head lightly.  "Everything for you, mi vida." He put the plaid he was washing on the drying rag and wiped his hands dry, before turning around in her arms. "On your birthday and every other day, we are together." He leaned in, kissing her. "I love you." It was her instinctual response. The smile on her face was mirrored by the one on his. "Te amo también."

@kigieri 2024. All rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate or repost any of my work.

[gothcsz]

part nine of the neighbors series. i just had to write this... it was too good of a thought to keep just in my head! javier going back to helena after you rightfully tell him to get lost for standing you up. he's not into it but decides to fuck her anyways?! this man and his unhealthy coping mechanism: sex. smh. this takes place after part seven 🖤

javier peña x f!reader. ~1.5k word count. spanish heavy (translated), s m u t, honestly javi just comes with his own warning at this point, angst (as always)

Javier winces as the door to your apartment shuts in his face, the sound echoing louder than it should in the quiet hallway. He stands there for a long moment, his heart lodged firmly in his throat as guilt churns in his stomach.

He’d known, from the moment you opened the door in that beautiful dress, that he’d made a colossal mistake. He’s not sure how the fuck he’s going to make things right between you.

He sighs deeply, dragging a hand down his face before pinching the bridge of his nose. The way you masked the hurt he caused with dismissiveness and a sharp, cutting comment before turning him away somehow stung worse than if you’d just yelled at him.

His feet feel heavy as he trudges back to his apartment, the guilt following him like a shadow. 

When he opens the door, Helena is there, sprawled comfortably on his couch with her legs crossed and a glass of whiskey in hand. She looks up, a playful smile tugging at her lips as she watches him close the door behind him with a slow, almost reluctant motion.

“Eso fue rápido,” (That was fast) she comments, “¿Todo bien?” (Everything okay?) she tilts her head slightly, her gaze curious but not overly concerned.

Javier stands at the threshold of his sunken living room, his shoulders sagging with the weight of his thoughts. He doesn’t answer immediately, too busy replaying the image of you in his mind.

She sets the glass down and stands, closing the distance between them.“Puedo ver el conflicto en tus ojos, Javi. ¿Tu vecina te gritó o que?” (I can see the conflict in your eyes, Javi. Did your neighbor bitch at you or something?) she teases, resting her hands on his shoulders before letting her fingers curl into the soft curls at the nape of his neck.

Her touch pulls him out of his thoughts momentarily. “No,” he replies, his tone low, “Pero me porte como un culero y me siento mal por como la trate.” (But I acted like an asshole and I feel bad about how I treated her)

She raises an eyebrow, her lips quirking into an amused smile. “You’re an asshole to everyone,” she says lightly, brushing a kiss along his jaw.

He scoffs, his frown deepening. “¿Qué? No hagas ese ruido—sabes que tengo razón.” (What? Don’t make that noise—you know I’m right) she chimes in as she continues with her affectionate touches. 

Normally, he’d lean into it, let her distract him the way she always does. But tonight, it feels hollow, like a cheap salve for a wound cut too deep.

She notices his hesitance, pausing as she cups his face in her hands. “Nunca he visto a nadie tan interesado en lo que hace su vecina. Should I be worried about her?” (I’ve never seen anyone so into what his neighbor is doing) she’s half-teasing as her gaze searches his face for an answer, but Javier avoids it, the hesitation clear in his brown eyes even as he tries to shrug it off.

“No,” he attempts to be nonchalant with his reply, “Solamente tengo ojos para ti, hermosa.” (I only have eyes for you, beautiful) His hand slips down to grip her ass, trying to redirect the moment, trying to bury the ache of guilt beneath something physical.

She narrows her eyes slightly, skeptical but willing to let it slide. “No mientas, Javier,” (Don’t lie) she murmurs. “Tengo suficiente de eso con todos los hombres en mi vida.” (I get enough of that from all the other men in my life)

Instead of responding, he leans in and kisses her, rough and insistent. She doesn’t push for more answers, letting him take what he needs, but she doesn’t miss the edge of hindrance in his touch.

“Si necesitas hablar de algo, sabes que aquí estoy,” (If you need to talk about something, you know I’m here) she says softly, more serious now as their lips brush together.

“Me ayudas más cuando no hablas,” (You help me more when you don't talk) he mutters before pulling her closer. She nips at his bottom lip, and it’s enough to spark the familiar lust between them.

Urgent touches, clothes discarded in a trail to the couch, and soon they’re a tangled mess with a throw blanket lazily thrown over their bodies.

She sinks down onto him, her lips on his neck as she whispers dirty encouragements against his skin.

It feels good—sex with Helena always does—but it’s different tonight.

No matter how tightly he shuts his eyes, no matter how hard he digs his fingers into her hips to ground himself, his mind keeps drifting back to you. To the way your lips trembled just slightly before you masked it, to the look in your eyes when you told him to ‘have fun vetting his lead.’

“Javi…” Helena’s airy moan pulls him back briefly, the clench of her around him sending a spark up his spine. He leans in to kiss her, messy and urgent, but it’s not to deepen their connection—it’s to keep her quiet.

The last thing he wants is for you to hear this, for you to know just how badly he’s handled things tonight.

Large hands move around to knead at her ass, guiding her movements, but his touch lacks its usual fervor.

The thought of you fills every corner of his mind even as he tries to lose himself in her. Your excitement that day by the fountain, the shy smile as you invited him out, and the way that smile disappeared the moment you saw him walk in with Helena.

And when her orgasm begins to crest and she’s shuddering around him, he barely notices, too consumed by the ache in his chest that no amount of physical release can fix.

She notices. She always does. Her rhythm falters slightly as she leans closer, her lips skimming his ear. “Pareces distraído.” (You seem distracted)

“Estoy bien,” (I’m fine) he growls, “Sigue moviéndote así.” (Just keep moving like that)

For the sake of not ruining this moment, she says nothing else, though he can feel the slight hesitation in her movements before she settles back into the pace he’s been guiding her toward.

Her breath hitches, her fingers tangling in his hair as she rides him, and he leans his head back against the couch, letting his eyes fall shut again.

It still doesn’t help.

Helena’s nails rake lightly down his chest, and he shivers, but it’s not desire that ripples through him—it’s frustration. With himself. With this situation. With the way he’s here, with a beautiful woman in his lap, and all he can think about is how badly he’s screwed things up with you.

Even as he drives her to her peak, there’s no satisfaction in it for him. His body is moving on autopilot, chasing a release that feels more like an obligation than a need.

When he finally comes, her name is the last thing on his mind. Yours, however, lingers at the tip of his tongue, threatening to lash out.

He bites it back, swallowing hard as she digs her nails into the skin of his shoulders, a guttural groan muffled against her neck, his hands clutching her ass like she’s the only thing tethering him to this moment of fleeting pleasure. 

The instant it’s over, he feels heavier than before, the guilt settling back over him like a dense fog that refuses to lift.

Helena collapses against his chest, her breath warm and uneven against his neck. She’s still for a few seconds, and then she lifts her head, her dark eyes searching his face.

“¿Seguro que estás bien?” (Are you sure you’re okay?) she asks softly, concern threading through her voice.

Javier exhales sharply, avoiding her gaze as he gently shifts her off of him. “Estoy bien,” (I’m fine) he repeats for what feels like the millionth time, his words clipped. He stands, grabbing his discarded jeans from the floor and pulling them on hastily.

She watches him in silence, wrapping the blanket around her naked form, unspoken questions hanging in the air. He can feel her studying him, trying to piece together the puzzle of his distraction, but he doesn’t have the energy to reassure her. Not tonight.

He grabs the carton of cigarettes and lighter from the coffee table, his movements practiced, almost automatic. The flick of the lighter illuminates his face briefly before the glow fades, the cigarette catching with a faint crackle. He takes a deep drag, smoke filling his lungs before he exhales, watching it swirl toward the ceiling.

“¿Te vas a quedar?” (Are you staying?)

She doesn’t answer right away, licking her lips. “No. Tengo otros planes.” (No. I have other plans)

Relief floods through him, and for the first time since they started hooking up, he’s okay with her walking out the door. He nods, tapping ash into the tray on the table.

“Bueno entonces, cuidate. Here,” (Well then, take care) holding the cigarette between his lips, he fishes his leather wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. He pulls out a wad of cash, walking over and holding it out to her.

Her eyes drop to the money, her expression tightening. “Javi, ya te he dicho como me siento con esto.” (Javi, I’ve already told you how I feel about this)

“¿Qué?” He shrugs, speaking around the cigarette between his teeth. “Te estoy pagando como lo hacen todos los demás.” (What? I’m paying you like everyone else does)

“No eres como los demás.” (You’re not like the others)

They lock eyes, the tension between them heavy and tangible. His exasperation simmers, then bubbles over. He tosses the money onto the coffee table with a thud.

“Entonces no lo tomes. Me vale madre.” (Then don’t take it. I don’t give a damn)

Helena stands, redressing and stepping into her heels. Javier finishes his cigarette with slow drags as she collects her things. She swipes the cash on her way out, crumpling it in her fist.

“¿Ves lo que te dije? Eres un culero con todos.” (See what I told you? You’re an asshole to everyone)

He doesn’t flinch but his jaw flexes, a muscle ticking as he watches her brush past him, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor.

She stops at the door, one hand resting on the knob as she glances back at him. “No sé qué está pasando entre tú y tu vecina, pero necesitas arreglarlo porque odio cuando actúas así.”  (I don’t know what's going on between you and your neighbor, but you need to straighten it out because I hate it when you act like this)

With that, she unlocks the door and leaves, leaving him standing there in his living room, now feeling worse than he did before and he has no one to blame but himself.

He stares at the spot where she stood, the remnants of her perfume lingering faintly in the air. He doesn’t move for a long moment, caught in the crossroads of her parting words.

Finally, he curses under his breath and heads to the bathroom. The cool tile beneath his feet as he flips on the light, the hum of the fluorescent bulb filling the room. He leans over the sink, gripping the porcelain edges so tightly—his knuckles go white.

The faucet sputters to life with a twist of his wrist, and he splashes cold water onto his face, droplets streaking down his cheeks and dripping onto his bare chest. It does nothing to clear the haze in his head.

When he looks up into the mirror, the man staring back at him looks just as wrecked as he feels.

This isn’t sustainable and he knows it. He can’t keep making a mess of every little thing in his life, can’t keep masking his despair with sex, whiskey, and cigarettes.

But knowing is one thing. Doing is another.

started a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤

🏷️ : @almostempty . @persephone-girl . @magneticecstasy . @thundermartini . @pepperstories . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @almostfoxglove . @maiyart . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled . @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @untamedheart81 . @moel-jiller . @honeyedmiller . @alexxavicry . @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff . @almodovarispunk . @southernbe . @readingiskeepingmegoing . @pedrito-is-punk7 . @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler . @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 . @lover-of-books-and-tea . @mysterious-moonstruck-musings . @pigeonmama . @piercethevic03 . @phry-k . @larascorneroftheworld . @marisemonteiroo . @samanthajonees . @yellowbrickyeti . @bambisweethearts . @whiskeyneat-coffeeblack . @picketniffler . @itwasntimethatdidit40 . @94namkooksworld . @prose-before-hoes . @dontlookatme121 . @cherrysugarx . @half-moon16 . @dinanabuu . @sunshinefive . @angiewatson .

[feroluce]

Belobog was my fave main quest but a lot of it is so. Contradictory. It's like they had multiple groups doing different shit and none of them checked in with each other for consistency. And you see this so much in Gepard's profile.

So in the main quest, they made him unfailingly, unquestionably loyal to Cocolia. Gepard's character arc is him learning to question authority etc etc. And this isn't even a bad thing; that's a story worth telling! It makes good conflict between him and Serval! And I love that we got Gepard as a boss battle and I get to see him all the time in SU!

But then you look at his character stories and it's like. The complete opposite.

According to his profile, Gepard has already HAD this awakening, long before the Astral Express, and he'd already decided Cocolia sucks. Even outside of his stories, there's a pretty damning readable between him and Pela.

He even disobeyed direct orders right in front of her- he has been disobeying orders for a while now!

So I've decided I'm marrying the two different sides of this into a 1.5k fic-ish thingy, because I think there's some fun potential there with Gepard not trusting Cocolia, but still having to pretend to be a good obedient little soldier.

Anyway. I love to think of it as like. Gepard knows Cocolia has sunk into her apathy. He can see it in her eyes every time he looks at her. She doesn't care. Not about him, not about Pela, not about all his soldiers on the frontlines giving their lives to protect the citizens. And that's... It makes him bristle a bit, but ok. Gepard can deal with this. Even if Cocolia no longer cares, as long as she does her job then it's fine. Having compassion behind an action doesn't matter as much as the action itself. If Cocolia's heart is no longer swayed, then he'll just have to care twice as hard to pick up the slack. He considers it part of his duty as a captain of the guard anyway. It's fine. Gepard can deal with it.

And then, Cocolia starts coming down to the restricted zone. Issuing direct orders.

And Gepard realizes he is in way over his head.

Because Cocolia orders him to stay back and issue commands from the ramparts, away from all his comrades, away from where he can protect them.

Gepard had thought nothing could be as bad as watching a fellow guard die right next to him. But the first time he watches someone struck by a killing blow, so far away, it hurts. Every defensive scar across his arms itches, his fingers curl in want of a weapon, the cold cannot numb his hands enough as they desperately ache for his shield. It hurts.

Gepard tries to find any reason to stay. Because surely... He knows Cocolia has lost her love for her people, but surely... She wouldn't...

One day, Cocolia orders for their gunners to advance 20 yards. There are no survivors. She almost looks like she smiles.

Gepard doesn't sleep that night.

Pela brings him the report at the end of the first month; and then the month after that, and the month after that. A significant uptick in losses, and all of it started on that first day Cocolia started overriding his authority and issuing her own orders. The ends of Gepard's pens have all been nearly chewed off. Pela outright calls Cocolia an idiot, and Gepard corrects her. Cocolia isn't an idiot. Gepard had known her through Serval, knew her through all her college years and then some, and he knows how intelligent she is. It's not that she's stupid, and it's not that she's inexperienced, it's nothing of the sort.

Cocolia knows exactly what she's doing.

She must, there's no way she could make such a horrible mess of things so badly by accident. And Pela, quick as a whip, sharp as a tack, always too smart for her own good, catches onto the meaning behind Gepard's correction without any further prompting. The tent goes deathly quiet, nothing but the wind howling outside.

"...She's trying to kill us," Pela whispers, her voice swiftly suffocated by the silence.

Gepard swallows. He can't bring himself to correct her this time. There is nothing he could say that he would actually mean.

His gaze drops, back down to his desk and the reports on it. The names aren't listed, just the numbers, but Gepard knows them, knew them, and there must be something wrong, something he's missing, because why, why would she-? What could this possibly accomplish-?

“Gepard! Focus!” Something snaps right under his nose, and Gepard startles, eyes instantly honing in on Pela's irritated face as she leans over his desk. She holds his gaze for a moment before she huffs and begins to pace, wedges a knuckle between her teeth and bites like Gepard hasn't seen her do since cadet school.

Pela angrily strides from one end of his tent to the other, words hissed between her grit teeth. “What are we going to do?” In the dim lighting, Gepard can just barely see the damp spot of blood weeping under her gloves. “We need a plan.”

“A plan?”

“Wh- Yes, a plan! Unless you want more people to die!” Pela rounds on him then, all the wrath of a blizzard, winds roaring and snow sharp enough to cut.

“We don't even know-”

“What does it matter?! She killed-!!” Pela cuts off with a garbled noise when Gepard leaps up from his desk, hastily shoves his hand over her mouth. The prosthetic, not the flesh one, because he knows better than to assume Pela won't seize the opportunity to leave teeth marks in his skin.

“You're right. I'm sorry, I'm sorry; you're right. But you need to keep quiet.” Pela quirks an eyebrow at him and Gepard can read the question in her face. “Because we both saw what she did to Serval,” he hisses.

It's amazing the snow plains haven't thawed out yet, the amount of heat Pela can put behind a glare. The mere mention of Serval, and the smoking ruins Cocolia had made of her life and career, have her bristling up like a riled cat. The sudden hot breath she takes fans fog across his metal skin, and Gepard wisely keeps it in place until Pela finally sighs and reaches up, taps her fingertips against the back of his hand.

The second she's free, Pela bats him away and then her knuckle is right back between her teeth again, Gepard leaning back against his desk with his arms crossed to watch her resume her pacing. “If we spread the word, she'll have us discharged and make sure we can't even touch the frontlines,” Pela's voice seethes like an open sore. Gepard nods but keeps his silence. He knows better than to get in her way.

“And if you and I are both out of the picture, Belobog is fucked.” A little harsher than how he would have put it, but there's no denying that they're both important to the city's survival. Pela has the restricted zone running as efficiently as ever, and Gepard had become the youngest captain on record for a reason. “We need to keep this tight under wraps, at least for now… It can't leak to anyone higher up the chain.” Another nod. “Serval might know other discontents…” Another n-

Gepard's head snaps up. “No.”

“No what?”

“No. We're not involving Serval in this.”

Somehow, even the same tone that leaves entire squadrons shaking in their boots has never worked on her. “You're not deciding that for her, Gepard.”

Pela hadn't seen the worst of it, though, back when his sister had just been banned from the Architects. Serval's pride hadn't allowed it. Pela wasn't the one to find her passed out bottle still in hand, hadn't been the one to wash the sick out of her hair or carry her to bed. 

Serval still has trouble thinking clearly when it comes to Cocolia, still can't quite bring herself to be objective. And Gepard maybe doesn't want her to be purely objective- but he would worry a lot less if she thought twice before she acted more often.

“At least let me be the one to bring it up to her.”

“Whatever, fine,” Pela gestures affirmatively at him as she paces past, and Gepard sighs. Good, at least that's one thing he can help.

From there, it's a lot of hemming and hawing and frustration. Cocolia has them under her boot, and Gepard and Pela both know it. Even with the way she's been cracking down on freedoms lately, Cocolia is still, overall, liked by the people. It's unlikely anyone would believe them. They don't even have solid proof, because most people don't know Cocolia as well as they do and won't see the clues in the same light. 

The Fragmentum has been ramping up in recent years, too. Everyone is struggling just to survive as is, they can't afford a fight on two fronts. Gepard is a damn good captain, one of the best for that matter. But they're at a massive disadvantage, his experience is narrowed to fighting a defensive battle against monsters, that's all he's ever done. That's all anyone there has ever done. He has no way of finding first-hand knowledge for taking the offensive against a human opponent, and if he goes at this blind, there's no way he'll get everyone out unscathed. He's going to lose people. He's going to lose a lot of people.

He'd never thought before that Cocolia would have it in her to have someone killed. And with this new knowledge, he has no guarantee she won't go after Serval or Lynx if she decides to retaliate.

Gepard has to remind himself to breathe when he realizes this.

Pela writes down every name the two of them can come up with. Lists and lists of names and groups and anyone they can think of who might be an ally in all of this. They memorize every bit of it, make their plans of who to talk to and when. Gepard watches the sparks reflect off Pela's glasses as they burn the evidence together.

Pela finally leaves, far too late to make it home, but says she wants to stay in the restricted zone anyway to investigate. Gepard watches her make her way in the direction of Dunn's tent, watches her back until she's out of his sight and squashes down the urge to follow and keep an eye on her. His tent feels empty.

In the morning, Gepard is up before the wake up bells. He drags himself out of bed, leads his soldiers through their morning training. The same people gravitate to each other everyday. Friend groups and training partners. There's an ongoing rivalry between a few squadrons that everyone bets on. Some of them have lockets around their necks, keepsakes, mementos. Some of them wear wedding rings.

Gepard is suddenly, painfully aware of something acidic clawing at the inside of his throat, of a heavy weight low in his chest that blooms, takes up room until it threatens to spread his ribs. His mouth tastes of bile and blood.

He rearranges the schedules. Puts himself down for every open patrol into the Fragmentum, makes sure he'll be on the frontlines every single time Cocolia visits.

He only hopes that it's enough.

[carnivalls]

good morning. thinking again of juve and her dog

[peppermintack]

show tempe gang crossover with the morris islanders would actually have been the best episode of bones ever. btw

[doctorbrown]

DOCTOBER '24 ⸺ 「 9 / 31 * BREAKTHROUGH 」

Walking through it hadn’t felt entirely real the first time Emmett had taken her to see the old house. Even though Clara could envision everything she had ever wanted, reach out and touch the near-tangible visions, as if human touch was all it would take to bring them to life as they walked from one dusty room to another, the pragmatist in her reminded her that this was only one set of possibilities. 

A potential future. One within reach, though nebulous, shifting and shimmering like an apparition.

But the more homes they viewed, the more she grew attached to this potential future, seeing nothing so bright and vibrant in any of the other houses. Oh, they could be happy in any of them, certainly, they’d done well with that already given their less than ideal living conditions for a growing family of four on the outskirts of Hill Valley—none of which were Emmett’s fault—but she had wanted more for her family and if they were going through all the trouble to uproot their lives to settle down in Emmett’s time, she refused to compromise.

Fortunately, having lived in the same cramped conditions for the last decade, Emmett was more than inclined to agree with her visions for their to-be home.

He’d done the best he could, improving their situation little-by-little with his knowledge of the future, but there was only so much that could be done when the builders and designers of her home clearly put little to no thought into the occupant and their convenience. 

Were she a woman of weaker constitution, it would have bothered her even more severely, however there was only so much that could be ignored as Jules and Verne continued growing at an alarming rate.

Both boys would surely take after their father.

This time, she would see to it that all the concerns that arose from their situation in the Nineteenth Century were properly addressed this time around. 

And then they found this house. Or, from what Emmett said, Marty had found this house and passed the information along. She would have to thank him properly for his invaluable help later.

For this house–!

Standing on the walkway, gazing up at their house—their house, Clara repeats in her mind, almost giddy with excitement—it feels surreal. The major step to making the move had just been completed and finalised and Emmett standing there, holding the keys and the paperwork to their new home, crowned in gold by the early afternoon sun, looks like a dream. 

Even with the exterior battered and beaten by the elements, it was clear that once, the two-story home had been a proud, beautiful building. Making it perfect would be a project, but the idea of complicated renovations did not sour her to the home in the slightest. The fact that they had all this space and then some–perhaps more than they needed for their modest family–well, she was still wrapping her head around it and the fact that they had all these futuristic amenities now to make their lives easier lent only to more and more possibilities. 

It was far away enough from the major populated areas to provide them peace and privacy, yet not so far that a trip into town would require proper planning and preparation and eat up a majority of the day. With the transportation available in this century–Clara was still growing accustomed to the sheer number of automobiles on the road in some of those areas and to her credit, she hadn't let out the same unladylike shriek she did the first time one of those things had roared at her–Emmett assured her that travel into town would take far less than the hour plus it took to return home on horseback. 

“We’ll never have to worry about space again,” Emmett says, smiling, and Clara finds herself drawn further into his orbit, hanging on her husband’s every word. “There’s plenty of space for you and me, for the boys—and when they eventually become teenagers and can’t stand the sight of one another for long, there’s more than enough room to put between them—and there will be space for Marty to stay.” 

He wraps his arm around Clara's waist. 

“The realtors assured me that everything is structurally sound, but I trust them about as far as I can throw them, so I’d like to double-check before we start settling in.”

Clara nods, finding sense in that. “So you'll be making a few trips here yourself in the meantime.”

“You and the boys are welcome to come, of course, but I figure it will get done quickly if the boys aren't distracted by all the new things happening around them. It would be good to expose them to life in this century slowly rather than shocking their systems by thrusting them into it, but that may be better a little further into the renovations. Let them explore the property on their own, the house once I’m absolutely certain they won’t stumble across any weak points and fall through, and get used to seeing things that are normal for this time, but the equivalent of magic a hundred years ago."

“You're right. And with Verne's penchant for trouble lately, I'd rather not run the risks. I know you said this was a quiet location without too much traffic, but God forbid he forgets about those–those—”

“Cars?” 

“Yes. Cars, thank you.”

“They'll just have to be patient. We’ll focus on their rooms first, set up ours and the majority of the home so it’s at least habitable, then focus our attention on the cosmetic things. I may enlist Marty's help with some of the cleaning if he's willing and able.” Emmett hums.

“We’ll need a place to store the Time Machine,” Clara says, leaning against Emmett’s arm. “I wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving it out in the open, even with your security measures in place.”

“No, the Train draws far too much attention and the last thing I need is somebody spotting it and poking around where they don’t belong. Remember, I'm not exactly Hill Valley's favourite citizen. I’ve been thinking about that since we settled on this house and I have a few ideas in mind.” 

Suddenly, Emmett snaps his fingers. “I’ll also need to construct a private study, one the boys and any of the friends they may invite over won’t be able to sneak into where we can keep some of the more sensitive”–dangerous, Clara’s mind supplies–“documents and experiments of mine. As for the lab…my childhood home saw my garage turned into a lab independent of the house and I think, for safety reasons, I’ll do the same here. The old barn, once fixed up, would make an excellent workspace.”

Clara’s eyebrows shoot up and she throws her husband a half-concerned, half-amused look.

“Not that I plan to be working on anything inherently dangerous or life-threatening,” he adds quickly underneath the weight of his wife’s stare. “But accidents do happen even when you’re being careful and I’ve been on the receiving end of more than a few of those over the years. I’d rather not take any unnecessary risks, especially not with you and the boys living there.”

“Of course not.”

[tsuncda]

so am i right or am i right in my assertion that bridgerton doesn't actually do character work, it just rebrands it's main characters before their season begins and tries to recontextualize them as poor little meow meows.

[astriiformes]

Talked about this with the counselor I've been seeing at school earlier today but my intense, desperate need to leave a mark on the world (not even in a fame way, in like a "I need to leave this place better than I found it in a big, tangible way" one) and the fact that I only value myself when I feel like I'm adding good to it paired with the fact that I've been an insane perfectionist since I was a very young child and tear myself to shreds and lose all my confidence over tiny mistakes is literally going to kill me some day

[this-doesnt-endd]

I used to have a really giant family like tons of tias and tios and cousins and i say used to cause like it seems like after my grandparents died on both sides both families seemed to never speak again and i had no chance to even try and keep hold of those ties i was in elementary school watching my parents marriage crash and burn in real time dealing with major death in the family and then subsequent family abandoning me at the tender age of 11. Hell my brothers were older and jumped ship it was just me and the horrors

[waheedawolf]

.

[moe-broey]

Hmmmm.....

[thehardkandy]

I'm really glad I decided to finish Exordia this morning because it did lead to just about 7 hours of writing (+lunch break and dog walk) so that I was able to do a short story front to back ~3300 words.

Feels like a bit W because the last short I did was October, which is still much more recent than the one before it had been (though I've had a few abortive attempts at getting past the first 20k of a book in there)

I spent a lot of the winter depressed and struggling to find the joy in doing something for it's own sake, so I've been trying to really push myself toward the parts of writing that have me looking back on my own writing fondly. Because even without plans for publishing stuff there is so much of my writing that I think my life is better for having written

I feel very good about what I wrote today, so hopefully I'll keep doing this small stuff

I'll say an especial shout-out to the Penric novellas, the cemeteries of amalo books, and Exordia for really making me feel that extra fondness for books and writing lately