#suffer until i can buy another at the end of the year

[greyias]

Delighted to report I finally cracked the code on my quest to successfully emulate Starbuck's Apple Crisp macchiato—and the secret is Oatly Barista Edition. That was the magic I was missing in my previous (admittedly still tasty) attempts. Not that anyone else is this obsessed about a seasonal apple pie flavored coffee drink as me, but for future reference, to create a 16 oz cup:

2 pumps syrup (aka 1 tbsp/0.5 oz)

3/4 cup Oatly Barista Edition oat milk floated on top of syrup

ice filled to 2 inches below the rim of the glass

top with 2 shots of blonde espresso

drizzle with spiced apple drizzle (or be lazy like me and just use this, it's close enough and lasts forever in the fridge)

✨✨ MAGIC ✨✨

[leaawrites]

It's nice to have a friend

Percy Jackson x mortal fem!reader

Warnings: use of Y/n, mentions of almost dying, Percy's stupid at some points, friends to lovers

Summary: Percy can't let your hands freeze to death, only because he had to make you lose yours in the first place.

Masterlist

Looking out the window Y/n saw the frozen water falling down from above. Their heritage, the clouds, were a dark color of white, however the snow didn’t make the scene dark, it made it comfortable. It gave her a type of warm hug, a feeling she couldn’t forget. A feeling she wanted to save for the warm summer days, the same as she saves the sun for rainy days, and the rain for when the flowers bloom.

The bell rang, signaling that the lesson, and the school day therefor, was over. Y/n sighned, she did want to walk through the streets covered in snow, but her hands would freeze to death in the meantime, since she lost her gloves a year before.

With her hands in the pockets of her coat and her gaze on the floor, watching the snow squish under her boots, while new one fell onto them, she concentrated on the music in her ears. Only looking up when she heard child’s laughter. On the other side of the sidewalk, 4 kids were having a snowball fight, laughing together when one gets hit by the snow. Y/n stopped, admiring the fun in their eyes.

“You wanna join them?” A voice beside her asked.Turning around, she saw her best friend, Percy.

She would still concider him her best friend, even when he started to ditch her every summer for some summer camp he couldn't tell her too much about. She liked the boy, she really did. But something about his behavior when she asked him about it didn't sit right with her. It was like he didn’t want her to know. Before this, Percy would've told her everything. No matter what, she used to always be the first to know. Whether it be about a new school he was sent to or someone that bullied him on that day. It was always her. Now it were his new friends.

She tried to tell herself that it was because Percy wanted to leave some of his old life behind whenever he went to summer camp. Like it were two seperate worlds. But she knew that Grover, another friend of Percy's, was also there.

"I can’t," she answered. "I lost my gloves last year, after you had to take me to one of those." She pointed to the kids, smilling at the memory of back then.

“Oh, yeah.” He remembered, laughing at the memory as well.

Both of them were prepared to make the other go down and suffer in the snow that day a year ago. It was a simple and nice idea, until Percy decided he had to help a duck on the lake. At that time he hadn’t had snow gloves himself, so he borrowed Y/n’s.

Long story short, the duck ended up almost drowning, together with Percy, but could rescue itself, while the gloves were sliding from Percy’s hands and fell into the freezing water. He hadn’t bought her new one’s, he insisted on doing so, but she refused to accept them when he got them for her. She didn’t want him to spent his money on her, so she said she would buy new one’s herself. Since it was technically her own fault for giving them to him, when she knew they wouldn’t end up on her own pair of hands anyway. However, she forgot until it was too late.

"You almost died that day, how can you laugh about it?" She asked the pale boy. With the white snow surrounding him he fit right into it.

"t was a fun day, you can’t deny it, can you?" He asked her, searching for the comformation he always craved from her. He wanted her to agree with him in everything, so that he knew that they were still balancing on the same thin line like before all the sudden changes in his life.

Spending time with her always kind of made him feel more at ease. She was his home. She was who he was so used to, he could tell her everything. Besides about camp and his now second life. It was too dangerous. So, he keot it to himself. Rather have her angry than dead, right?

"It was a fun day," she agreed, stuffing her hands further into her pockets from the cold temperatures.

"Have mine," Percy said, holding his gloves into her direction, after seeing her shaking body.

"No, thanks,” she said, continuing walking home. "I’m not even that cold."

But the chattering of her teeth betrayed her and Percy looked at her with a dumbfounded expression.

"Then have one at least," he tried to compromise, looking into her eyes with that certain look. Raising his eyebrows, Percy moved the glove more to her body, until she couldn’t refuse to take it anymore. Rolling her eyes in annoyance, she put the black glove over her freezing hand. Feeling the warm of his hand from before, made an slight blush creep up on her face. Which she played off from the cold.

"What is with the other, genuis?" she asked. She didn’t want a second glove but a conversation.

He only took her hand into his, beginning to walk again, not looking at her once. Her face grew even hotter and her body was filling with warmth as their bare freezing skin touched and exchanged body heat. Both were burning from the desire of this being more than a friendly encounter.

[memories-of-ancients]

Just curious, why do you think Rome fell?

OMG do you really have to ask such a big question right before I was going to bed anon? Well, here are the primary reasons IMO as a Roman history buff.

Lots of Civil Wars --- The Romans going way back to the days of the Republic were constantly fighting over who was going to be boss. Sulla fought a civil war and took over Rome and declared himself dictator, ditto Julius Caesar, and of course Octavian did the same and became the first emperor. During the empire there were many civil wars over who would be emperor as the Imperial system often lacked rules for succession resulting in dynastic struggles and civil wars. Not that it would have mattered if they did, as they probably would have just ignored the rules. In the 3rd century the empire underwent a 50 year period of near constant civil war known as the Crises of the Third Century. Constantine became emperor after killing all his opponents in a civil war. The later half of the 4th century had more civil wars. Even in the 5th century factions were fighting each for control of an empire that was collapsing all around them. No side wins a civil war because they are bloody, destructive, there are no spoils of war. There is only self destruction, they are about as helpful to a country as would a person shooting himself in the foot. All the money and resources that went into fighting civil wars and rebuilding after the war was money and resources not being used to maintain infrastructure, maintain public works, regulate the economy, defend from outside threats, and maintain the government.

2. Political Instability --- Most emperors did not die of natural causes, most emperors were murdered, or committed suicide, or died in battle, or died in a prison cell. Roman government was chalk full of power hungry psychopaths who were willing to murder their way to the top. Sometimes emperors could come and go quickly, with reigns lasting 2-3 years or less in the 3rd century.

Roman political history was rife with intrigue, assassinations, and coups occurring all the time. It was like Game of Thrones except instead of lasting 8 seasons it lasted 500 years.

3. The Army Became a Powerful Interest Group --- If you were a Roman emperor the army was a double edged sword. They were good in that they maintained peace and order in the empire and protected it from invaders. They were bad for you in that they could revolt and murder you, replacing you with someone they liked more. Even your own guard, the Praetorian Guards, couldn't be trusted as they could easily slit your throat in your sleep and declare someone else as emperor. To make sure the army was happy, you gave them big pay bonuses called donatives. Basically official bribes paid to keep the soldiers of the army loyal and happy. With each successive emperor the annual donative became bigger and bigger and thus a greater strain on the Imperial Treasury. If an emperor didn't pay up, he could be murdered by his own soldiers. Thus a lot of public money was paid just to keep the army happy so they didn't end up starting another civil war.

4. A Fucked up Economy --- Maintaining a large standing army to defend a large empire is expensive. Fighting civil wars is expensive. Rebuilding after civil wars is expensive. Constant regime change is expensive. Political intrigue is expensive. Eventually it got to the point where there just wasn't enough money to pay for all that. So emperors just minted more money, decreasing the silver content and minting more copper coins until eventually Roman money became worthless.

Today Roman money is still worthless. Go on ebay and find the cheapest Roman coins you can buy. Except for rarer collectibles Roman coins are still very plentiful and thus very cheap to collect. Worthless money made trade and commerce difficult, and thus the economy suffered. Not to mention constant bloody and destructive civil wars were damaging the economy. Political instability also damaged the economy.

5. Growing Disparity in Wealth --- Over time with civil wars and political instability the rich got richer and the poor got poorer. Eventually wealth became so concentrated in the upper class that the middle class disappeared entirely by the late 4th - 5th century. By then the average Roman was in a bad way. They had no opportunities and most Romans were forced to live as tenant farmers, essentially sharecroppers.

6. A Corrupt Tax System --- Meanwhile the wealthy became so powerful that they were able to wield that power so that they did not have to pay taxes. They could exploit loopholes, manipulate laws in their favor, or bribe their way out of paying. To try to make up the revenue, tax collectors attempted to squeeze the lower classes, which of course, didn't have any money. Thus by the late 4th - 5th century the empire was severely underfunded. This resulted in the degradation of infrastructure, public works, the army, the weakening of the government, and less investment in the economy and commerce.

7. Patronage --- By the 5th century the average Roman was out of opportunities and the middle class was gone entirely. More and more the lower class Roman was being squeezed for tax money, money which they didn't have. So in order to survive, Roman lower classes sold their services to a wealthy patron. The patron would house you and protect you and take care of your tax problems. If you were lucky and had special skills like a craftsman or artist you could make a good living under a patron. If not, you probably ended up a tenant farmer tied to the land of the patron, essentially a sharecropper, a serf, or a peasant. Due to this change in the socio economic system power was drawn away from the Imperial government and was redirected to the wealthy patrons. Thus the empire was becoming decentralized.

This would become the basis for medieval feudalism.

8. No One Wanted to Join the Army --- Why would you? You're dirt poor and have no opportunities. If you joined the army you may not even get the opportunity to defend the empire, as you're gonna get killed in a stupid civil war fighting a fellow Roman who is also dirt poor and has no opportunities. Your government is corrupt, your emperor is a snobbish entitled incompetent dipshit who was out of touch with reality, the tax man is trying to squeeze you for money you don't have, you have no rights, you've been forced to become a peasant to a proto-feudal lord, and it is clear the empire is dying. By the mid 5th century most Romans were like, "let it fucking die". As a result, the army suffered severe manpower shortages. Right at the time when Goths and Franks and Vandals and Huns are going to start swarming into the empire.

These to me are the primary reasons for the fall. Anyone have anything else to add in addition to this?

[ultralightpoe]

Spellbound Part 2 - Geralt of Rivia

Authors Note: Sorry it took so long, I just really had no clue how to do the first part justice

Word Count: 3,876

Warnings: reader is a brothel worker

Description:Part two to the first. FIRST PART HERE

Enjoy!

There were many times in Geralt's life where he felt an undeniable rage, and there were many times that he let that rage affect him until he was forced to suffer the consequences of all his actions. He had learned over the years that there were ways of handling his rage, there were ways of dealing with sadness and pain. 

He had been through so much, and yet he stood, and he always told himself that it would be worth it. Soon enough he would find something that would make it all worth it, and he had found that in you. 

Your soul matched his in a way he never thought possible, and though you didn’t have the same physical scars you had both been through more than you can imagine. And he always found himself gravitating to you, the one person in the world that he felt never judged or expected anything from him. 

Sure, he obviously did not know how to deal with this. He never knew how to talk to you, what to say and when to say it, and he really did not know how to seem casual just as Jaskier always could. Not to mention he was constantly worried about losing you. He felt like a flame, loving something so much and trying to engulf it into warmth only for it to burn and vanish. 

You had been through so much, he never wanted you to burn and he couldn’t imagine a life without you. 

So, even if he couldn’t show emotion or manage to properly show his love, he allowed Jaskier to grow close to you. Geralt made sure that you were physically safe, warm and fed. It was the least he could do. 

He never wanted to leave you wanting for anything, and he desperately tried to find ways to show you yet nothing ever worked. 

But then you were his, for one small moment he had you and he felt as though everything was worth it again. He would burn the world down for you, slay any monster and batter any mortal. It was all yours for the taking…

Until you burned. 

How ironic, how hard he fought to keep you at arms length only to lose the battle in a split moment, and be proven right just like that. 

Now you were gone. 

He knew exactly where you were, had already tried to get you, only to be stopped at the door each time.  Each time he was stopped he wanted to crush their skulls, storm up to wherever they were keeping you and try to explain. 

He would drag you out the door himself just to make sure you never had to do this again. But there were laws, as well as contracts. He would never be allowed to see you unless he could pay the fee, and you would never be allowed to leave unless you could buy out your contract. 

If he managed to get to you and help you escape there would still be the hassle of everyone hunting you down, and word spreads from town to town quickly when it comes to Witchers. 

“How much?” He growls, keeping his eyes narrowed in on the older woman before him, watching her lean back on her chair and fix her dress. She was unlike any other brothel owner he had come across, the others always had a protective notion for the girls. This one seemed vindictive in every word she spoke. 

“Witcher, I have told ye the last 4 times ye have been here that she is not for sale.” She laughs, reaching a foot out to kick the pouch of gold he had laid on the table in front of her. Her dress rides up exposing a very scarred leg, and his stomach tightens at the atrocities you must be going through with this hag and any man she rented you out to.  “Y/n is the emerald of all brothels, before she came upon mine she was already widely known for her beauty, not to mention her time with the Witcher? Men are practically killing themselves to have a moment with her. I stand to make more keeping her than I ever would selling her back to you.”

“Her contract-”

“Has another 4 years under my roof. By the end of that I could be far far away from this continent. Don’t you understand?” She leans forward, knocking the satchels down and watching all the gold pieces fall on the ground. 

That had been 4 months work, 4 months of Geralt working himself to the bone and saving up in a chance to save you. He hadn’t eaten properly or slept more than 2 hours a night in that span of time. 

Images flash through his mind, him ringing this wenches neck in or slamming her head into the fire. Maybe he could slice her head off in one clean motion. 

But he doesn’t, because he understands the consequences. So he bites his tongue and stands straighter. “I just want to see her-”

“Then you pay, just as everyone else.” The Madame sneers, leaning across the table. “I don’t give a fuck if you love her witcher, though I don’t believe you are even capable of that, my rules stay the same. You want to see her then you pay for her time.”

He leans forward, smirking a bit when her attitude drops in fear for a moment, before tilting his head. “Then how fucking much?”

-

“I really do not believe you were worth 230 gold pieces-” Lord Servail huffs, struggling to shove himself back into his trousers. You struggled not to roll your eyes as you sat up, pulling the sheet to cover yourself and looking at the floorboards of the raggedy room. 

You had learned that the men of this village did not like to be watched, most of them married and most of them carrying guilt. You had merely assumed Lord Servail to be the same. 

“Have you nothing to say, whore?” He bellows, walking across the room to grab at your chin. A moment of panic sinks in, one hand holding the sheet tight while the other grabs at his wrist in an attempt to free yourself. 

“I do not understand what you mean, sir-”

“You are boring! You just laid there like a fucking corpse-”

“That didn’t seem to stop you from finishing within a minute-” The slap sounds out and for a second you wonder what he hit, then you open your eyes and feel the stinging on your cheek to realize it had been you. 

A bitter laugh slips past your lips as you taste the iron. 

Blood trails down past your lips as tears spring up in your eyes, the sheets under you stained and ripped from the past month. You think of Geralt in this moment, wishing that you were near him even if he ignored you. 

There had always been a calming factor to the witcher that you never understood, maybe it was a feeling of safety or maybe you just liked that he never showed much anger. He took anything that affected him and made a rational judgment. 

He was a man of trust, and he had never let anything harm you. Sure he yelled at you when he thought you stupid, and made condescending remarks, but you never felt as though he would lay a hand on you. 

“Is that all?” You sniffle, reaching a hand up to stop the blood as he steps back. The man stares at you before yelling out and storming out of the room, shirt untied as well as the trousers. You hear him yelling at your Madame before he leaves and you move over to the basin in the corner to clean yourself off. 

You clean your nose before moving to clean your legs, letting the tears fall freely as you hear her heels come down the hall. 

“You’ve just cost yerself yer pay, I’ll tell you that much.” Madame snaps, the door swinging hard enough to make the wall shake as she marches in. “I told ye that Lord Servail was a valued client and you-”

“Smiled pretty and let him cum. He really didn’t complain much until it came time to pay.” You snark, watching her face pull up. “Have I any news? Anyone come to see me?” 

It had been a month, and you had kept hoping that maybe Geralt or Jaskier would come to see you. At least try to get you back, but nothing. No letters, no visits, nothing. 

“Yer Witcher isn’t comin for ya’. So I suggest you fix yerself up and get back to work.” The Madame snarls, tossing the silk robe at you before storming back out. 

That lonely feeling that clung to you the day you left never seemed to fade, it folds in around you now as you pull into yourself. Knees hugged to your chest as you hide your face and cry. 

Truly what did you expect? That he would come pounding on the door? Try to save you? The salty taste of the tears mixes in with the iron as you sob. You had been foolish, so very foolish. 

Geralt must be at least 6 towns away by now, barely even thinking of you. 

-

“I am terribly sorry to inform ye, Witcher, that my emerald is stacked up for the next week and a half.”

“Bullshit.”

She snarls at him, standing quickly and snatching a heavy book from the desk behind her before slamming it on the table. “Take a fucking look then.” 

He doesn’t waste a moment, snapping through the pages one by one until he reaches your ledgers. Your handwriting is at the top, neat and clean from the ink, dated that day you dashed from the tavern. 

The very same day he had raced over here to see you. 

The day after he had you in his arms. 

The memory of it flashes through him, the way he snatched you like a caveman. He tries to reason with himself that he believed it to be consensual, that he hadn’t realized you were under a spell. But it didn’t matter. 

He treated you in a way he swore to himself he never would, and he made you so uncomfortable that you ran. 

Bile rises in his throat as embarrassment and guilt claw through him, he snaps through your pages to see dozens of signatures on each page. “You have her seeing twelve clients each day?”

“This is a busin-”

“Is she eating enough? Sleeping enough? Are you giving her proper time to rest?”

“I’m not a fucking babysitter-”

“If you are abusing your contract then she has a right to leave!”

She stares at him, watching for a moment with wide eyes as her cheeks go red. Then she fixes herself, clearing her throat before shouting out loud. “BOYS!” He doesn’t fight it as they grab both of his arms, instead he lets them carry him to the door and throw him to the mud below. 

“Guessing she didn’t take it?” Jaskier asks, watching Geralt pick himself up, checking to make sure he still had the satchel of gold. “Surprise surprise.”

All Geralt could do at this point was grunt, moving towards Roach as the barb fixes his coat. 

“I have another job, heard whispers of a screaming creature in the woods not far off from here. Figured you’d want to go out and make more gold so we can do this all again over and over and over.” 

“She’s overworking her, I just know it. Not enough time to eat or sleep-”

“Geralt, as much as I love Y/n, I think we need to….evaluate our current situation.”

“I NEED TO -”

“Get to her. I know. I’m not saying anything otherwise. I just want you to think about whether you want her to see you like this.”

“I want to see her safe.”

“And Y/n would want the same of you. Besides, we obviously have no power against the brothel system.”

“I have fought countless beasts-”

“And I am still your only friend. It’s time you admit it Witcher, humans aren’t your best expertise.” 

If this was any other moment Geralt would ignore him, hop onto Roach and pretend the worm didn’t exist. But he was tired, so tired he truly didn’t think he could even climb onto the horse. 

“Then what do you suggest?”

“First? Sleep. Then? We find an outside source.”

- 

Two months in and winter had finally come. 

You found yourself huddling together with Snae, a brothel worker that had been here a little longer than you, but hadn’t been that much older. This had been the first night you both had off this entire time, and it hadn’t been a purposeful thing. 

There had been a ball in the village, apparently a beast had been slaughtered and most of the nobles and rich men left in their carriages far away. Which meant you were free to huddle close to your friend for warmth as you tried to fight off the winter air. 

“I imagined this brothel warmer.” She sniffles, pressing her forehead to your arm as you shiver. “I was told this was one of the best-”

“It is….. To their guests.” You laugh, tired and aching. Honestly you could barely move, and you hadn’t managed to make it at dinner hour since you had been with a client. But Snae was nice enough to sneak you in a roll of bread. 

“I want to get out of here.” She admits in a quick breath, and you can’t help but smile at the admission. 

You had often imagined ways you would escape, but the truth was you had nowhere to go and no one to leave for. What would you have if you left here? Nothing.

So instead you close your eyes, and lean into her as you whisper. “Where would you go?”

“Home. To find my sister.” 

“You have a family?” 

“A little sister, it’s why I am here. I wanted to make sure she had something to pay for food.” Something tears at your chest, and within a moment you think of a plan. 

“Then let’s get you out of here.”

It takes a mere 30 minutes to pack her a travel pack using a sheet from the bed, rushing to your room to pick up the floorboard where you keep the little pay you make, 10 silver coins. Tossing them in her satchel before tiptoeing to the attic where the largest window was. 

“Shhh.” You whisper when she slips, the wood beneath her scraping under her shoe. Helping her stand before moving to the window. Unlatching it was easy, the winter air covering both of you in a moment. “You swill slide from this section to the next. Until you make it to that tree.”

“You go first.”

“I am not coming.” You laugh, clearing some of the snow from the sill. 

“You must.” 

“No, I have nothing. Besides, one of us needs to stay and give you time.” 

“Y/n-”

“If she begins hunting you then go and find the witcher. Do you hear me?”

“He wouldn’t help someone like me.” She laughs, and you merely stare at her. 

“I think you would be surprised of just how good of a person the Witcher is, though he likes to pretend he is not.”

“What should I say to him if I must find him?”

“That the Geralt I know would keep you safe. Now go.” 

You help her climb up the sill and onto the roof, watching her slide down in the flimsy robe Madame forces you to wear and make sure she makes it to the tree safely before closing the window. 

You allow yourself one moment to press your forehead against the cold glass of it, your breath hitting the glass to form a smudge.  You imagine escaping yourself, maybe going out to find Jaskier. 

But that was unrealistic. 

And you were obviously unwanted.

-

“Please, it’s very important-” A strong female voice fills the air as Geralt breathes in the scent of roast and ale. There was also smoke from the fires but he was far too hungry to admire that scent on it’s own.  “They said that he was here and-”

“First round of ale on me.” Jaskier sings out, moving to the counter as Geralt rolls his eyes. Jaskier was carrying his gold sack so truly the first round was on him. 

He was six villages away from you right now, landing at a cheap tavern for the night before they set up camp. They were here to listen for jobs. 

The plan, as terrible as it was, had been to travel to find Yennefer and along the way they would earn some extra gold. That way when they go they can send the witch in to make the deal, or at least pretend to make the deal as she can try to sneak you out. 

It was a terrible plan……. Because it was Jaskiers plan. 

“Please, I need to find the witcher.” That draws Geralt's attention away from the hearth he had been glaring into, head whipping to spot the young woman clutching the shoulders of a little girl as she begs the man once more. “If you could just tell me where he would be staying-”

“Witchers aren’t allowed in the fucking taverns here, so shut yer trap before I put it to work-.” Before Geralt could stop himself his hand is shooting out, catching the man by the back of the neck. At his movement the hood he had been wearing falls and the people around him all quiet down. 

The womens eyes fall to him, widening. “You are just as Y/n described.”

Something tightens in his chest at the mention of your name, and he finds himself nodding to Jaskier to lead the girl outside. The air hits him, the warmth gone but there was nothing that would hinder him from the conversation. 

“You know Y/n?” His voice is rough, the heat traveling his skin hiding him from the cold. The woman's eyes are filled with tears and the young girl is shoving her face in the smallest scrap of dress he had seen, so in one quick moment he rips his hood off to hand to them. “Is that what you wear in this cold?” “Please, I… I’m from the same brothel as Y/n and she helped me escape. All my money has gone to keeping my sister warm….. Y/n said that you would help. She said the Geralt she knew would help.”

“Where is she?” His heart is thundering through his ribcage at this point, and he can see Jaskier emerging from the tavern. “Did she make it-”

“She didn’t come.”

“Why?”

“Probably scared she wouldn’t make it out. Or might believe she is all alone and has nothing to escape for.” The feminine voice makes Geralt jump through his skin. Suddenly she is there, smelling of smoke and lavender. 

“Yennefer.” Jaskier gasps, but Geralt hadn’t needed him to let him know. 

“Tell me, Geralt of Rivia, about the woman who broke the witcher.”

You were no longer tired at this point, truly you were nothing. 

You didn’t speak, missed more meal times than not from being stuck with clients and at this point you didn’t seem to care. You were just breathing, and that was as much energy as you can muster. 

Three months into this place had truly broken you. 

Yennefer thought this place smelled of urine and death, and though she respected the females brave enough to work here she had absolutely no fucking clue why any man would risk stepping in here.

 One look at the young girl passing her with a bruise on her cheek told her all she needed to know. The men that came here didn’t care about anything but getting themselves wet and letting off some steam. 

“I have a room upstairs, I charge 50 a month in rent, half your earnings are to the house and the rest belong to you.” A voice sounds out, drawing Yennerfers attention away from the young girl with the bruise, back to the raggedy woman sitting at the counter. 

“Excuse me?”

“I have a room for ye-” 

“I’m not here for a room. I’m here for a girl.” 

“Really?”

Yennefer slaps 2 gold coins onto the counter, a smirk crossing her face as the woman's eyes widen in greed. “I was told you had an emerald here.”

“You’re here for Y/n….only problem there is it’s double for her time.” Yennefer sighs, taking out one more coin and slapping it down. “I said double.”

“And I am willing to go and tell the town that your girls are sick.”

“What do you want with Y/n?”

“I figured you wouldn’t need me to explain how your business works but if you need a lesson in fucking then you would have to pay ME double.”

“She is in the top room. Don’t bother knocking.” And just like that Yennefer is moving, picking up her skirts to walk up the steps, trying not to breathe in the smells as she reaches your room. 

Just as the brothel worker said she doesn’t bother knocking, and it was clear why when she walked in. 

The beauty Geralt had described last night was still there, just one look and even Yennefer was nearly at a loss for words. But the spark, the light of you was gone. You stared at the wall before you, empty and gone. 

“Y/n?” She calls, closing the door behind her. “Y/n…”

“I can’t….she said I’d have a day.” You sob, pulling into yourself. 

“You’ll have more than a day, I can promise that.” Yennefer smiles, moving closer slowly. “Your witcher has sent me.”

“My witcher?” There it was, some of that spark. “He’s gonna be mad at me.”

“Now that I can swear on. Come.”

-

Geralt stood pacing back and forth on the pathway as he waited for Yennefers portal to open, his heart in his throat and his eyes glued to the space before him. 

Jaskier waited at the inn they had found with the girl you had saved, Snae. But for now it would just be him waiting for Yennefer, far enough from the town that they would have a head start if anyone went looking for you whilst the rest would cause a stir and send them on a chase. 

They had learned from Snae that Madame had sent a bounty out on her, so Geralt could only imagine what she would do to you. ‘Her emerald’. 

Then it was there, forming like a cloud at first until it got bigger and bigger until it began showing like a mirror. 

Then Yennefers hand came through and Geralt found himself launching forward as she stepped through, both arms wrapped around…..you.

He was there, his hands on you as soon as he could, keeping you upright as Yennefer lets go. “Y/n.”

“Please don’t be mad.” You whisper. 

“What has she done to you…..”

Part 3 on October 30th

@sagelovesreading

@lashipperrubia @freyafriggafrey @cookielovesbook-akie @whatishappeninghere81 @livesinfantasyland @multiifandomhoe @amara-75 @unfxrgetwble @vlynccx @redlovett @yorkeylover @mxtokko @readinggirl29 @mollymal @fullmoonshadowwrites @rileytwenty @glasschampagne @caffieneaddictt18 @kittiowolf210 @purple-blommie @abrunettefangirlnerd @babezawa

[thedevilssinner]

Elven soulmates - Astarion x Elf!Tav - Headcanon

I listened to one song and for some reason it screamed Astarion x Tav at me. This man is really ruining my life 😅

Anyway… the song was ‘IDK you yet’ and I just thought about the two of them being soulmates or something like that and then I found a thread on https://www.enworld.org about elven relationships and someone mentioned soulmates which got me searching and I found this page https://www.realmshelps.net/charbuild/races/elf/leaf.shtml where is mentioned that elves can find someone they call their thiramin which should mean soulmate in elvish language. 

Here’s the part from the https://www.realmshelps.net :

Upon reaching adulthood, elves continue their sexual explorations. Eventually, though, each discovers that his heart has developed a capacity for lasting and exclusive love. Like most other important things in their lives, elves describe this in mystical terms. They believe that a person's spiritual progress is unknowingly intertwined with that of another. This soulmate is called a thiramin. Upon meeting his thiramin, an elf's heart fills with passion and certainty. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, the other party is felled by the same feeling of immediate and eternal devotion. (Though rare, an unrequited feeling of thiramin is always disastrous, bringing centuries of wrenching heartbreak. Sufferers often commit suicide or succumb to the temptations of evil.) Elves almost always feel thiramin for people they meet for the first time: In other words, visitors from other communities. Intermarriage between communities strengthens the bonds of communication between settlements, allowing them to quickly band together against the armies of evil that march across the land.

Now… You can imagine what that did to me, when I thought about the idea of Elf Tav knowing Astarion before he was turned into a vampire so… here’s some headcanons. Suffer with me.

Tav and Astarion met in Baldur's gate. Tav being new to the city. Young elf exploring the world outside their home.

Maybe they met in an art gallery or a tavern or some other place… that’s up to you, but when their eyes met, they immediately knew the other one was their thiramin. Heart beating wildly as they smile at each other.

They start dating, of course. Trying to get to know each other and spend as much time together as possible. 

I think that Tav would call Astarion their star… or maybe even ‘my starry night’

Astarion would call them ‘my moon’ (idk, I just love the idea of them using moon and stars as pet names)

Or… inspired by Game of Thrones - Astarion would call Tav ‘my sun and stars' while Tav would call him ‘the moon of my life’

Maybe they dated for a year or two, thinking about buying a house together.

But then Astarion was beaten ‘to death’ by the Gurs.

Tav could immediately tell that something was terribly wrong. The connection they felt with Astarion severing and sharp pain piercing through their heart. Panicked, they tried to find Astarion, going to his home but they already came too late.

Their blood turned into ice when they saw the mercenaries from the Flaming Fist already around his home. Seeing them carrying an awfully pale and beaten body of Astarion. (I don't remember if it was mentioned if Astarion lived in a Lower or Upper city before he was turned, so I chose a Lower city 🤷🏻‍♀️) (Also, not sure how and where exactly were he turned so I hope this is fine)

After a few days, Tav still couldn’t comprehend what truly happened. They felt just… empty. As if every color, every piece of happiness was ripped away from their soul. Not even able to visit Astarion’s grave because of that.

When Tav's family found out, they came to them, taking them to their homeland, because they knew how bad losing your soulmate could end for an elf. Tav fell into a deep grief and depression that lasted almost 100 years, doing some questionable things here and there until they started to function again.

On the other side - Astarion was beaten by Gurs but his final death came from Cazador, the change itself working just like if he truly died. His connection to Tav is severed and the shock of his change into a vampire erases all memory of them from his mind.

And then the 200 years of torture begin. Astarion doing anything he could and needed to do for survival. Flirting and luring victims to Cazador. He was good at it, great even, but something always felt wrong. 

Well, everything he did for Cazador was wrong, but touching another person, sleeping with them, and whispering words of love to them seemed wrong for another reason he couldn't understand. It was as if his subconscious was always trying to tell him something, but he couldn't say what.

There was just always something wrong with the victims. Wrong eye color, wrong tone of voice or even their pet names they sometimes used for him. 

Is he missing something? Someone? Longing for the embrace of a specific person that is unknown to him.

He always blamed his vampirism for this feeling. Thinking that’s just how it is. The feeling of wrongness and emptiness residing in him for the 200 years of his unlife.

Until the Mind Flayers and Nautiloid.

But back to Tav:

After a hundred years of grief, Tav finally started to get better. Diving into learning the profession/class they have chosen. Trying to enjoy life as much as they could, but the emptiness never fully disappeared. As if part of their soul was still gone.

They even tried to date, pressured by their family to at least try, but when their new partner tried to kiss them… they just couldn’t do it, dull pain spreading through their body and guilt flooding their mind. They immediately break up with the person and decide never to find a partner again.

But apart from that, they were relatively happy. Another 100 years slowly drifting away, the memories of Astarion remaining, if a little faded.

Until the Mind Flayers and Nautiloid.

Game plot:

Tav was walking with Shadowheart and Gale when they heard someone call for help.

Of course, they immediately headed for the voice, trying to help all the survivors of the crashed ship.

But when they finally came to the person they heard, the blood ran cold in their veins, the weapon they held falling from their grasp. It was like seeing him for the first time in their life but at the same time not… Astarion.

They notice that he looks different. His eyes are the wrong color and he’s so pale… but it’s him. They know it is because their soul sang when their eyes locked… but how? 

“Hurry, I’ve got one of those bran things…” Astarion's voice trailed off as he fixed his eyes on Tav and gasped as an unfamiliar sensation filled his body. It was as if everything finally clicked and his mind was flooded with memories he didn't know he had.

That's how far I've come with this idea. I'm not sure how it would have gone on, but I imagine it would have taken a while for Tav and Astarion to become partners again. Both mourning the years they could have spent together if it weren't for Cazador. Tav learning to love the new Astarion he has become, because he was different from the elf they knew before and Astarion learning to love again overall.

[dreamauri]

max c oc!/ self insert driver reader? i love these kind of fics!! esp when it’s an enemies to lovers, maybe their both competing for the championship🥲

♪ —𝗢𝗛 𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗬 𝗕𝗔𝗕𝗬 max verstappen x fem! driver! OC! reader (angst to fluff + smut) “. . . you never back out of a fight, and neither does max. but the turn of events was surly unexpected.”

( main master list | more of max verstappen ) ( tag list | requests )

2015

"This is not fair!" You shouted in the radio as you drove the car back on the track, trailing the Dutch driver. "HE PUSHED ME! WHAT IS THIS SHIT SHOW?!" Cuss words dripped from your mouth as you caught up to max, taunting and pressuring him to weaken his defence enough to pass.

"NO! BLIND MOTHERFUCKER!" You shouted, slamming your your hands on your steering wheel angrily. He oversteered into you, crashing you out both into the wall for good. "COME HERE." You pulled your seatbelt of, running after him as soon as you were on your feet.

Standing his ground, Max took the the opportunity to tackle you to the ground first, pinning you on the ground face down. "CAN YOU SHUT UP?" He was angry. Why was a dumb blond crashing into him when she should go put on make up or buy some new high heels.

"NOT UNTIL YOU LOSE YOUR TONGUE." Kicking your foot back, you delivered a good slam to his sensitive organ, pretty much killing him. While you got up, Max was still whimpering on the ground, face red. "Asshole." "Says you. You're a stupid fifteen year old blond virgin who cant drive." "OH YOU'RE ASKING FOR IT—"

"OH! Anaki kicked Verstappen again. That must hurt." "I can't even look, she's putting her whole strength into that kick." "We can confirm now that Froi does not skip leg day."

Walking back you your car, you stepped on his back, putting your whole weight on. "Verstappen scum."

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

2017

Walking down the pitlane, crew members and camera men made sure to stay out of your way seeing how you were going to crush the water bottle in your hand from the amount of rage you were radiating. "You might want to run away." Christian warned, there was nothing going to stop what was to come next.

Max looked where his team principle did, eyes widening as he started walking away for an escape. You never showed him mercy, and he knew he's be dead by the end of this one.

Throwing the metal bottle with precision, you hit Max right in the back of his head, making hm wince and turn you with a look of anger. Charging towards you, ready to tackle you down, you dodged putting your leg out to trip him.

"That's for costing me a win." You growled, raising your elbow to drop on him. Your revenge was short lived as someone quickly held you back. Getting up slowly and wiping his nose, he glared daggers at you. The only reason you were not suffering because the two of you were in public.

"Bitch." He mumbled ready to attack only for someone to hold him back. "Say that again." You dared him, venom leaking from your words. "Bit—" Safe to say he wasn't going to have children anymore.

You pulled yourself free as you watched the Dutch fall on his knees and chest, hands between his thighs. "Pussy." You spit, walking back to your garage. "I hate you." He shouted after you.

"Hate is not a strong enough world to describe how much I despise you, darling." You called back, throwing back a middle finger.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

2022

"Flight is cancelled. Come back in another seven hours." You repeated, laid on your back face covered by your jacket. You've been waiting in the first class lounge for eternity now, and every now and then people would come and ask you the same question.

Instead of hearing the person leave, you felt someone shove your legs harshly off the couch. Snapping up into sitting position, ready to argue with the disturber of your short-lived peace. You're eyes met with your rival.

"Ew. Get off, rat." You shoved him off, going back to your laying position. "Can you not for once?" He was at his limit with you, pushing your legs off and sitting back down. "Not when it's you." You rolled your eyes covering your face with the jacket again, going back to sleep as you pushed him off.

"I've had it with you!" He ripped your shoes off, throwing them across the empty room. "Hey!" You kicked his side getting up to retrieve the puma, only for Max to lay in your stop. "My spot." "Stop being a child."

"Oh I'm sorry. Are you jealous that I'm still living a childhood you never had?" You mocked, throwing the heel of the shoe at his groin. "What is wrong with you?! Fuckin' Hell! Stop fucking obsessing over my dick like a slut!" "Oh you wanna see obsession?"

Max's legs had been shaking the whole flight, and you sitting a few seats behind could only smile as he winced with ever move and shuffle. He heard the occasional giggle come from you, and when he looked back, you raised your tomato juice pretending to give him a toast.

Arriving in Bahrain was easy for you. You loved the country and its people so it was easy to find your way around. Unlike someone who had to take the golf cart through the airport because he was dying on the inside.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Whoops. Not sorry." You hummed as you lapped the Redbull driver, slightly throwing him off the race line. "Haha, look at him stirring around like an idiot." You laughed in the radio as you watched him struggle in your mirrors. "Alright, byebye." You sighed comfortably, zooming away easily to lap the next car head.

Being on the podium was fun, a great start to the season as you danced happily under the shower of champagne. "This is how you do it~" You sang laughing, a certain Dutch driver caught your eyes as your engineers carried you back to the garage on their shoulders. You held up your trophy, showing off with a bright smile.

you were so dead.

When Max found you in the hotel later that night, he was quick to pull you in a corner out of sight, slamming you in the wall. "You're driving me insane." You looked at him for a moment before feeling a light bulb spark in your head.

"Aww, I'm sorry." You trailed a hand down his chest slowly, looking him deep in his eyes. "Froi." He growled gripping your wrist before it went to far down. "Lets play a game." You whispered in his ear, free hand slowly unzipping his pants and reaching inside slowly. "What are you— fuck—"

Max could only lean his fore arms on the wall as you worked your hand. The same one that had punched his dick a few days ago. He could've stopped you or said no, but he let you, his body shaking from the contrast of the pain and pleasure, blue eyes looking deep in your honey green ones.

A muffled groan sounded through his lips as he finally came in your hands. "Good luck next race." You patted his back, wiping the substance on his shirt walking away. Max could only stay in his place, frozen as he caught his breath slowly.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

He understood the game now. You were playing dirty. Distracting him the way you did was successful as you danced on your halo after securing pole position in Saudi Arabia. He'd be starting behind you tomorrow, and that angered him.

He can play the game too.

Pulling you aside once he got the chance, you could guess why. And for the next 3 hours, Max was on his knees, face between your thighs as you sobbed from overstimulation. He liked hearing you so venerable and weak, begging as you gripped his hair. "Verstappen, enough." You could feel your legs shake, the only thing holding you up were his strong arms.

"Sluts shouldn't talk." "I'm not a slu— no no no. Enough. Please!"

He liked this.

And so the battle continued, on and off track. Your fights were slowly decreasing in the eyes of the media and people didn't know why. Your battle off track was the one that decided the winner, the one who threw off the other the most had already secured his trophy the night before.

Of course you two never had full out sex. You never held hands. You never kissed. Never marked. You didn't like each other, right? Right? You never fight it when he pushed himself in your room in the middle of the night.

You don't pull away when he drags you out of sight.

You didn't stop him when he digs his fingers into your core.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The season dragged through and through and the championship was tight between the two of you. You'd practically be alternating each weekend on who had P1.

You'd raise your middle finger to him and he'd raise his to you. It was funny from the side lines really, watching you the two go from kicking each other ( you to him ) to mild insults after each race or qualifying.

Some people would say you matured and others would say the FiA threatened to suspend you for the behaviour ( the fia couldn't ever, you were bringing in money with each fine ).

It was at the Italian grand Prix when rumours truly began to form. When it came to the after party to celebrate your win, you went all out and embraced all types of alcohol, somehow concluding with you switching Italian the whole night.

Max who had gotten second place in the race sat a few chairs away from you, drinking from his glass as his eyes followed you. He could already imagine what he'd do next, and it made his pants tighten. What pulled him out of his thoughts were a group of guys chatting with you, touching you.

Why did that anger him the way it did? It shouldn't have. What did for him was you trying to pull away. He didn't even know how he got there but he secured a good punch to one of the guys face. Too bad for him, the others could fight.

Pnce he got the chance, Max lifted you up on his shoulder, bolting out of there. Goodness knows what would've happened if he didn't step in, and that scared him and bothered him deeply.

After conforming that you were indeed a safe distance away from your assailants, he set you back down on your feet, feeling cold without your body heat and it stirred his stomach sick.

Quickly taking your wrist, he dragged you along to try and find his way back to the hotel. "I wanna dance." You demanded, standing still and pulling him back.

"Froi, I don't have time for this." "I beg to differ. We have all the time in the world, Max." You pulled him closer to you, taking his hand as you twirled yourself.

That was the first time you called him by his first name, and it made his heart flutter.

Say it again.

"Please let me know that it's real. You're too good to be true." You turned into his chest, your finger trailing up his neck and jaw as you looked deeply into his ocean blues. "Can't take my eyes off of you." You sang, glancing down to his lips as Max leaned down slowly, his hands finding your hips and back as he pulled you close.

He could feel your breath on his lips and your heart beat in your chest. Dipping down with the courage he put together. His heart sank when his felt you push him away from his face. "Ew. No way."

Shatter.

'What was I thinking. She doesn't like me.' He thought, sighing as he walked behind her, hands in his pockets as he eyed you in your short red stain dress. He wasn't any better than those other guys with the way he treated you and the way touched you. Thy way he watched you. The way he thought about you.

The way he wanted you.

Finally finding your hotel, he walked you up to your room. "God bless." You groaned falling on your bed. Gently kneeling down, Max started undoing the straps of you heels, committing the mistake of looking up where your dress rode up your thighs.

Setting your heels aside, he was surprised when you pulled him ontop of yourself his collar, a mischievous smile on your face. "What's that in your pants?" You teased. Looking down, Max was quick to put a hand over his crotch, attempting to hide the forming boner.

"I saw it already. You can't hide from me." You giggled, hands slipping under his shirt and pulling it over his head. The Dutch watched as you traced your finger along his skin, drawing shapes and lines aimlessly.

His heart was thumping. Why was he feeling like this? His breath hitched feeling your other hand where he needed you the most. "Anaki." He found himself begging as you pushed him on his back. Your hands were quick to unbuckle his belt, pulling his pants and underwear down.

"I swear it keeps getting smaller everytime." You teased, taking him in your mouth. "Not- not small." ( he's a good 7.6 inches ) He said in between grunts, gently brushing your hair out of your face.

This was out of norm for him, being so gentle with you. Treating you like a piece of glass, cupping your cheek to guide you gently. Unlike the usual when he's rough and unforgiving.

"Ugh fuck." He felt himself relax after his release, his thumb caressing your cheek as you pulled away. He watched you open your mouth, your saliva and his seamen dripping down on his stomach.

"You're playing nice." You commented, crawling up and tracing kisses on his neck. "Mhm?" Max hummed, closing his eyes and leaning into your touch. His hand trailed up your back gently, prompting you to pull off your dress. The blond could only admire you, hands caressing and exploring your delicate skin.

"You're beautiful." He promised, cupping under your chin as his lips traced your body. "Max." There it was, calling his name. "Hmm?" He asked flipping you over so he was on top, finger hooking on the hem of your underwear, pulling it down slowly.

"Max." His heart flutterd as he gently held your thighs, aligning himself to you. "Need you." You whispered, hooking your heels around your waist.

No. This was wrong.

You were drunk. Despite how much as he needed you, and how much it hurt not to be inside you, he couldn't take advantage of you in this state.

A moan sounded through the hotel room as he slowly sunk his two digits in your core instead.

After covering you with the blanket, Max reached for his shirt, pausing through the process to look at your sleeping figure. 'If I leave now, everything will go back to the way it was. And if I don't, I have no idea how she'll take it . . . Fuck it.'

Slipping back in bed after he cleaned you up, Max hesitantly pulled your bare body into his, sharing your body heat for the night.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"No." You gaped making the newly showered Dutch flinch and freeze in his place. He was leaning his back on the bathroom door frame, toothbrush in his mouth.

After staring at each other for two minutes, wondering why the fuck he decided to NOT wrap a towel around himself: "What the fuck?!" You shuffled backwards in the bed falling off. "Ow!"

"Shit." Jumping over and getting to your side of the bed, Max peaked over checking on you. He was greeted with a pillow smacking his face. "Ow! Relax!" He pulled away, holding your hand before you attacked him again.

"Relax?!—" "We didn't fuck. Chill." "Chill? Verstappen, you're naked in my room." You reasoned trying to pull away only for the man to pull you back up on the bed. 'Fuck. Go back to using my first name.'

"You're fine. I helped you get back and you played around." 'That's odd. Nothing hurts.' You thought looking at him suspiciously. "Your joking." You chuckled darkly, seeing his dick harden. "I can't help it alright?" He grumbled embarrassed, pulling you closer and turning you around.

"Hey! Hey!" You protested trying to crawl away. "Anaki! Can you relax and stay put for just a second?" He questioned, holding you by your hips. "No!" You fought back only to be pulled back on your knees, hands held behind your back. "Anaki. I'm losing my mind. It hurts."

Hearing him say your name so desperately threw you off. Before you knew it, he was humping your thighs, his free hand between your legs to pleasure you as well.

This was different. This wasn't fighting or competing. This was love making ( well, less than half way there ). You could feel it in the way you moaned and the way he treated you like a fragile flower. "Verstappen-" "Max. My name is Max." He corrected you, letting your hands go so he could hold himself up and not squish you.

"Max." You repeated, feeling him lean down and press soft kisses to your back and neck. "Yeah?" He could feel your breaths pick up as you leaned up into his chest. He closed his eyes, wrapping an arm around you.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"You and Max haven't fought in a while." "So?" You shrug, acting oblivious. One of the biggest cons of F1 was the interviews, the paparazzi, the media.

"Do you have anything to comment about that?" "Eh." You shrugged, setting your elbow on the table, leaning your chin on your hand. "You guys are boring." You yawned looking at the press conference crowd. "You tell me." Max, a few chairs away, commented leaning his head back bored.

"What's going on with you and Max?" Lando asked once you escaped the press conference. "What is going on with me and Max?" You returned the question, walking backwards. "Well you're calling him by his first name. And there are rumors going around about you dancing with him in the streets back in Imola." He whispered that last part through gritted teeth.

"Oh, do you have a crush on Max? Are you scared ima steal your man?" You joked taunting him. "What?! I don't like Max!" "Ouch." The Dutch commented as he passed by.

"Lando likes you." Carlos patted your shoulder as he passed by. You raised your eyebrows surprised, looking at Lando to confirm the statement. "I- well-" Lando scratched the back of his neck nervously. You could only giggle wiggling your eyebrows as you walked away backwards.

Max crushed the Redbull can, overhearing the conversation. He just got you, he's not losing you.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"I brought nuggets." He said once you peaked through the hotel room door, holding out the two 20 packs. You opened the door all the way, looking between him and the nuggets. Should you let him in? Should you send him away? What does he expect? What do you want?

Max could see the thought train running through your eyes and you could see the nervous gulp in his throat. "Please. Give me a chance. I'm sorry for all the bitch shit I've done to you. All of it. I take it all back."

"Give me a chance, Anaki."

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Being in a secret relationship was difficult to say the least. There was tension between you and Max. Hungry glances in press conferences and deep eye contact from across the paddock.

Max wanted to hold you, he too felt empty with you so far away from him. He wanted to kiss you in front of everyone so they can back off. Especially Lando. And although Max knew you would never go out with the boy, he was getting pissed off with how much the McLaren wasn't giving up.

Keeping an eye on you from across the bar, Max watched as Lando tried to hit on you. You could only watch amused as Lando leaned his side on the bar, listening to a story he was telling whilst sipping his whisky. "Have I ever told you about the time I went backpacking in Europe?"

He'll no. Max knew what was coming next and he did not like it.

"I didn't order this." You told the bartender looking at the fancy drink infront of you. "It's from him." A smile crept on your face as you lifted the glass, taking sips from the probably expensive alcohol. "Thank him for me."

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"I don't like the way he looks at you." Max grumbled as he pulled his shoes off, tossing them in the rack only for you to tidy up after him.

"You know I'm yours." You leaned down kissing him gently. "He's practically undressing you." He humbled, gently pulling your ancle up and taking the uncomfortable heels off. "I don't even want to know what goes through his head." He grumped tossing the heels away, picking you up and walking with you into the apartment.

"Max, I have legs. I can walk." "I don't care." He threw you on your shared bed, tossing you a pair of shorts and shirt from the closet while he changed into shorts. "It just— I know I'd love you way better than anyone else." He sat beside you, unbuttoning his shirt.

"Max, you broke my nose in 2016." "I apologized! I'm sorry!" He looked at you eyebrows begging. "Here, punch me, break my nose. Return the favour." He closed his eyes, bracing himself. "Max—" "Do it." He flinched hearing you shuffle closer, but all he felt was you kissing his nose gently. "You're an idiot. I'm dating an idiot."

"You love me?" You asked once he opened his eyes, referring to a few seconds ago. "I— yes." He stuttered nodding. You could only smile as you looked into his eyes, dipping closer to catch his lips with yours.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

2023

"And Froi wining in formula one 4 times from pole, is going to win from pole again and end the season with celebrations for Ferrari. Anaki Froi wins the Abu Dhabi Grand prix and is the first female champion of the world!"

"YEES!!" You threw your hands up in joy and euphoria as your engineer confirmed your title. "OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! GRAZIE! GRAZIE!" You could feel happy tears happy tears stream down your face as you ran your hand over your helmet.

"YEAH! LETS GO!" Max in the car behind you was also celebrating, not his second place in the race, but your championship title. "I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! WOHOO!"

Jumping out of the car, you were quick to jump into the arms of your team, hugging and praising you as you cried in their arms. Pulling away, you looked at Max who climbed out of his car.

Might as well, no?

You rand into his arms, hugging him tightly as he did the same. "I'm so proud of you, Ani." He held the sides of your helmet shaking you back and fourth as you laughed. "So proud." He undid the strap, pulling the protection off, before pulling his helmet off. You caught his jaws with your hands, connecting his lips with yours as he wrapped his arms around your waist. Once he pulled away, he held your hand, getting down on one knee.

"Double the joy for me, my darling. Marry me. Lets spend our nights eating cereal when there is a perfectly fine table behind us. Marry me. We can go to the movies and sit in the back row just for us to make out like kids falling in love for the first time. Marry me. slow dance with me in our bedroom with candles on our nightstand."

Dropping down on your knees, you pulled him in a bone crushing hug, nodding yes and you squeezed him tight. "I'm all yours, forever." You nodded.

Your favourite thing about that day was not revealing your relationship to the world, your engagement to your lover, but the look of utter confusion and lostness on Christian Horner's face.

voice notes 🔊 . . . ( this took a way too sexual turn, damn. sorry it took me so long to write this. i really liked it so i hope you enjoy. i wanted to test out second point of view using OC (anaki froi), hope that didnt ruin it )

[kedreeva]

So I live somewhere where certain foods aren't readily available. I'm looking to buy a house - smallish house, biggish land is an option(cheaper). I've never kept anything more ~interesting~ than snakes. I went to a restaurant in a city a few years back where I tried duck for the first time and it instantly became my favorite food. Would it be weird to uh, keep ducks for eating? I've no problem with butchering but I'm worried I'd get attached to MY ducks.

I can't really answer if you'll get attached, because I don't know you or your penchant for getting attached. I can answer that it's not weird at all to raise ducks for meat. There are entire breeds of ducks that are great to raise for meat (like muscovies or pekins). Personally, I prefer the muscovy breed because I find them to be adorable (lots of cool color morphs! they do a little butt waggling dance in a circle!), GREAT moms who take on HUGE clutches no problem, they don't require or play in large amounts of water the way pekins do, and they're not as noisy (they hiss, they don't quack). The boys also get quite large, without getting super fat the way proper meat pekins do.

Like that's just. Terrible. I assume they get belly rub sores. The meat is probably good, the fat is probably good cooking. But at what cost?

I can also say that most people do get somewhat attached to animals they raise for food, but I think that's an important part of it. Part of raising animals for food is understanding that you're giving them the best life you can up to the point of butcher, which is often better than whatever life they would have in a factory farm. Part of raising food animals is caring enough about them to do well by them, as the only gratitude you can show to them in exchange for their life. Part of raising animals for food is understanding that you are going to take the life of another creature, and I think that attachment is how we understand the weight of that decision.

Personally, I think that it's right and good for people to get attached to their livestock. I think it helps them remember that they're caring for a living creature that has needs and feels pain. A creature that is deserving of excellent care while alive. I see a LOT of people allowing animal suffering in the fowl world because "it's just a chicken" and the babies "only cost a couple bucks," and "they can be replaced." IMO, it's a particularly callous attitude to have, toward an animal whose life will be taken to provide for you. Even one whose life is dedicated to providing for you while living (eggs, milk, wool, honey, etc) deserves better than to be considered a Thing that can be allowed to suffer merely because it is replaceable.

Lastly, I can say that (for me at least) there's often a major difference between the attachment you feel toward a pet and a livestock animal. Part of it is expectations going in, part of it is time. For pets, the expectation is that you will have that animal for the duration of that animal's average life expectancy, and you can plan accordingly for allowing yourself emotional investment. For livestock, the expectation is that you will only have the animal until its butcher date, which is often quite early in their life. A healthy, well-kept dog you can probably expect a good 10 years from, a cat nearly twice that. The average butcher age for a pekin duck is 3 months old (for comparison, they have an average lifespan of 5 years before their bodies give out from growth and weight issues), for muscovies 3-6 months (with an average lifespan of 20 years). There's just not as much time to get attached in the first place, unless you're getting attached to your breeders.

So, is it weird to raise ducks for food? Absolutely not. Are you going to get attached? I hope so, at least a little bit. And I hope that you feeling that connection to your food source helps you to take excellent care of them until their time comes, and that it compels you to make their end as quick and painless as possible.

[queenklu]

Seeing AI discourse about writing college papers reminded me of the time I got Called In To A Professor's Office over a paper I wrote that he thought was plagiarized.

See, the thing I had realized about myself by that point was that I am...VERY BAD....at reading the assigned books. I have every intention of doing so while in class, but the instant I'm out of class the book no longer exists (what adhd). So by the end of the year I would always wind up getting screwed over in the book buy-back with books I'd literally never cracked the spine on, because it turned out speed-reading sparknotes could get me through class discussion and I'd developed a System(TM) for panic-writing an essay the night before.

This system was: find an online pdf of the book. Skim. Read summaries. Pull quotes from pdf. Bullshit. Estimate the page number for any citations because no one actually checks those, and use the publication data from the syllabus for the works cited. This works Very Well if you are, like me, a sarcastic asshole who knows teachers want to read an entertaining essay instead of yet another regurgitation of whatever sounds academically "best."

So here's this history class, which actually turns out to be an english class in disguise, and we are told to read and write an essay on The First Autobiography Ever Written in the English Language, which just so happens to be about a lady who had FOURTEEN kids, suffered a psychotic break, and spent the rest of her life campaigning to become a saint.

It's called The Book of Margery Kempe. I cannot express to you how smug I am to find a pdf of the exact same copy we'd been told to buy, down to the same publishing house and year of publication. I won't even have to bullshit page numbers.

...It's written in Middle English.

Here begynnyth a schort tretys and a comfortabyl for synful wrecchys, wherin thei may have gret solas and comfort to hem and undyrstondyn the hy and unspecabyl mercy of ower sovereyn Savyowr Cryst Jhesu, whos name be worschepd and magnyfyed wythowten ende, that now in ower days to us unworthy deyneth to exercysen hys nobeley and hys goodnesse....

This is fine, College!me thinks. A little tedious, but clearly the entire class has successfully done the reading enough to talk about it, so it must be doable. They probably had discussions about the language and I forgot to pay attention.

So I write the essay, pulling quotes from this middle english pdf that I can only half read, but that I can certainly form opinions about. Is it my best essay? No. Is it snarky? Yes. Is it in MLA format? That's mostly what they'll be checking for.

Then the Professor pulls me aside after class and asks to speak with me in his office. I have another class that I have to go to, and because I'm commuting in to college I won't be back on campus until two days later; he says that's fine, and all of this is settled and we've parted ways before it hits me how fucking fucked I am.

It must be the book.

He's going to call me out on not buying the book.

Can he tell I didn't read the book?

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

And I have two days to stew in it.

By the time our meeting rolls around I am a Mess. He is going to fail me. I am going to die. If I open my mouth at all I will burst into tears. Perhaps there is the slimmest chance if I act Normal this will be fine??????

P: So I read your essay...

Me: *using my Normal face* ⊙.☉

P: ...and I'm just wondering...

Me: ⊙.☉'

P: ...where you got the quotes?

Me: ⊙.☉'''

P: .....because the version of the book we read....isn't in Middle English.

Me: ⊙.☉??????????

P: I actually thought you might have plagiarized it--

Me: ⊙.☉!!!!!!!

P:--but to be honest it's written so entirely in your style that it's impossible this essay is plagiarized.

Me: ........⊙.☉.....

P: .... Anyway.

P: Just wanted to chat.

P: Uh. You're free to go.

Me:

HERE'S THE LESSONS LEARNED:

Just buy the book Cite the pdf. The professors Do Not Care how you've read the book as long as they can plausibly believe you've read it.

Just read the book Listen. I wasn't going to get anywhere near an ADHD diagnosis until my 30s. And if they can't tell you didn't read the book, then is it really the same as not reading the book? I think Margery would agree you gotta make some shit up to get anywhere in life.

Being a sarcastic asshole in my academic papers saved me from a plagiarism charge.

[leonw4nter]

My Daddy Forever, You’ll Always Be

ID!Leon + GN!Child

Dad suffered a lot. Uncle Chris or Aunt Claire tells me just how much he suffered and how he continues to suffer. No one had to tell me that my dad pushed all the suffering back and didn’t feel into them just to take care of me, even when the scrape on my knee was nothing compared to the fracture in his collarbone or the swelling of his eye. I do my best to be there for him, reminding him to celebrate birthdays or find happiness in the mundane like coloring books but I guess even that isn’t enough to fill the mom-shaped hole she left in his heart. No one’s going to fit in there, not even me, and I don’t think dad wants anyone to fill it in and that’s okay because I have a mom-shaped hole in my heart too, even if I only know how mom looks based on pictures in the frames and photo albums dad loved to look at.

On every birthday he has, we always prepare two candles– one for him and one for mom, even if they don’t share a birthday (they’re six months apart). Dad always sadly sighs when he blows out her candle; I think he hates doing that. I hate observing that though they were born a few months apart, they’re even more apart now that one of them is still on Earth while the other is in heaven now. Despite the fact that I sort of killed mom by being born fussy, Dad still loves me and does his best to be present in my life. He knows which dresses to buy and doesn’t mind wearing make up, even when the lipstick is smeared or if some powder got into his eyes. Sometimes I think he’s trying to make up by treating me well because I look like the splitting image of my mom and he’s trying to suppress the guilt every time he sees me but I don’t mind; he lost a woman who’s been around in his life longer than I have been. He lets me sleep in his and mom’s room sometimes, letting me sleep in what he said was her side of the bed. If we both couldn’t sleep, he could talk about anything and everything but her. There was one time where I told him that my classmate’s mom remarried after her dad died in service and that she was happy and I asked him if that would make him happier.

“Marriage is how you know that your love persevered through tough times. A second marriage is proof of how you were willing to give yourself another chance to love. I don’t think I can marry again because I know I won’t be able to love someone else as much as I fiercely love your mother,” was all he said before I turned to face him, his chest shaking slightly and tears streamed down his stubbly cheek. I apologized to him and quietly promised that I won’t ever make dad cry again and that I would do my best to make sure dad stayed happy.

Dad isn’t very keen on writing; he’d much rather install a tile and get dirt underneath nails he maintained than write on several pieces of paper back to back but I notice that he began buying stationery in order to write letters but those letters were never sent. He keeps them in a womens’ shoe box and occasionally takes a letter out to read as he quietly cries to himself. On the night of what would be five years since mom left us, I woke up in the middle of the night to find dad’s side of the bed empty. I got up and saw him sitting on the floor as he hugged the shoe box close to his chest.

“Will we ever see each other again? How long until you’ll come back to me and our daughter?” was what I heard as he continued to cry. I have heard Dad cry but never as gut-wrenching as this. I continued to watch him cry, tears of my own spilling and I felt bad for him. Aunt Claire told me that dad never showed fear when he was at work, shooting and defeating the bad guys but whenever he looked at me, there would always be a small tinge of fear in his eyes. She said that he just didn’t want me to see the world the way he saw it, whatever that meant. I couldn’t take it and I ended up sobbing, maybe as hard as dad did. He heard me and got up, walking over to where I was hiding. He lifted me and hugged me tight, pressing kisses to my hair and repeatedly apologizing for being a little too loud when I was sleeping. If only Dad saw that he had nothing to apologize for but how could he see that when the splitting image of his wife is me and my face reminds him of what he gained and lost on that day?

I hope Dad doesn’t beat himself up for losing what he had left of mom. I hope he doesn’t feel sad whenever he sees another dad with his wife bonding with their daughter in a park. I hope he doesn’t cry whenever it’s his birthday and he pokes a third candle into his cake. I hope he doesn’t consider himself a bad father because I would rather live a short life with dad than a long life without him. It made me sad how dad would never see me in a wedding gown and would probably never walk me down the aisle or have our daddy-daughter dance; after we watched the movie Father of the Bride and seeing dad get all emotional about it, it kind of made me a little happy to image dad being so excited for me. I hope he will be kind to himself and let himself experience happiness. I hope that God would let me be reborn as dad’s best friend so I can help him get through what he went through. He would’ve been a pleasure to walk to school with. Hmm. Maybe he’d be the type to remind the teacher of homework.

NOTE - Sorry for dropping this short and mid ass fic, I just had to hop on my computer and write this one bc I came across this one wedding tiktok where the dad sees his daughter who's getting married for the first time and I cried then suddenly remembered I wrote an angsty fic where Leon's kid dies and I decided to add this as the kid's POV. I was too sad okay I just HAD to write one up but looking back at it, now that I'm not that sad, it's actually... ehh. A for effort, I guess. Anyways, that's it and thank you SOOOOOO much for reading my fics, it means a lot to me :) I <33333 UUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!

The dividers are from @saradika , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[sapphirelass]

In my Blood ~ Will Solace x Sister!Reader

Hi you guys! Wow, it's been over a year😅 I'm still working toward my uni degree (physics, maths and upper secondary school education for those of you who don't know), spending time with my boyfriend, hanging out with friends, and visiting my family as often as I can. I promise I have done a fair bit of writing this past year, just not finished anything... But, here we are! Really looking forward to the PJO-series, but while we're all waiting, here's a Will imagine because Will is great <3

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To read as xOC, click here

Words: 2500 ish

Warnings: injury, blood, wounds, angst (normal demigod stuff really, but you know)

Please note that English isn't my first language! I have studied it for over a decade, and speak it fluently, but there might still be some grammatical errors and a mix of British/American expressions - thanks for understanding :)

y/n - your name

y/n/n - your nickname

she/her reader

Enjoy! :)

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“Get down!” she shouted, as a giant, angry, terrifying cyclops approached them. “Listen closely now; do you see that huge pine tree over there? And the statue? Run past them, and you’ll find people who’ll help. I’ll try to buy you as much time as possible!”

The two seven-year-old half-bloods that had just been saved and brought to camp (well, almost anyway) sat off towards the border, as (y/n) Solace, daughter of Apollo, stayed behind and pulled her sword out. She was a way more advanced archer than swordfighter, but the one bow she had brought with her had fallen out of her firm grip as she jumped behind a boulder for cover. She had made an attempt at getting it back, however, that just resulted in her body coming crashing to the ground as the cyclops’ hand collided with her chest, while the bow ended up in between the hard ground and the monster’s massive foot… (Y/n) threw her head back and sighed at the sight of her trusty old weapon in pieces, and it wasn’t until she tried to push herself back up on her feet that she noticed a terrible pain spreading through her left arm from her elbow. It hurt badly, but since she didn’t have much of a choice, (y/n), suddenly feeling slightly dizzy, pushed herself back up with her other hand and looked for another road to victory. 

After a few minutes of trying to attack the monster with her sword, but repeatedly failing since getting close enough without getting hit herself proved to be very difficult, (y/n) quickly ran in a circle around the monster causing him to stumble - if only for a second. She wasted no time launching herself at the cyclops with her sword and - *SPLASH*. The sharp, metal blade bore deep into the slimy eye, and the cyclops staggered backwards, slowly disintegrating. (y/n) was just about to take a deep breath when she felt a stinging sensation in her abdomen. Briefly glancing down, she winced as she realized what had happened. The monster must have grabbed one of her arrows from the quiver she had thrown onto the ground, and, rather violently judging by the amount of blood oozing through her orange t-shirt, pushed one into her side. 

Being a demigod, (y/n) had obviously suffered multiple injuries before, though never quite ones as bad as this. The bottom half of her shirt was now more red than orange, and she could feel the world spinning slightly. Groaning, she sat down against a tree and inspected the wound carefully. She wanted to pull the arrow out, but her twin brother Will had always strongly argued against doing something just like that. A vague memory of him saying something along the lines of “the weapon possibly being the only thing keeping you from losing too much blood”... Sighing, she started to slowly make her way toward camp but didn’t make it very far before stumbling over her own feet and falling forwards on the cold hard ground. (Y/n) coughed up something that looked like a mixture of spit and blood before pushing herself to her feet again with the help of her sword. It wasn’t a speedy process, but she kept walking in the direction of the infirmary, stopping to catch her breath every few steps.

---

“(y/n/n)?!” She only had a few hundred meters to go when two of her closest friends - Travis and Connor Stoll - came running towards her with worried faces. Typically when the brothers approached someone together in this way it was with mischievous smiles on their faces and usually followed by a prank of some sort, but not this time. “What in the name of the gods happened to you?”, Travis asked, as Connor carefully placed (y/n)’s right arm across his shoulders to help support her. “We ran into some new kids who said you’d picked a fight with a giant?”

“Oh hardly…”, she demonstrated. “If anyone picked a fight it was him! And besides, it was just a normal cyclops, and not even a very big one.” She winced slightly when Travis smiled and grabbed her other arm, but started walking more steadily thanks to the brothers. “But my bow broke, and - friendly advice - don’t try to take out a cyclops with nothing but a sword.”

“You should put that on a T-shirt.”, Travis joked but shut up quickly when (y/n)’s knees buckled and she stumbled again. He sent her a worried glance as Connor spoke up.

“So, what happened? How bad off are you really?”

She told them the story as they walked slowly down the hill and across the volleyball court. They were right by the big house when (y/n) finished the story.

“Gods…”, Connor mumbled, changing his grip around his friend’s shoulder to give her even more support. “You know Will’s gonna kill you himself this time, right?”. (Y/n) was about to answer him when someone opened the door to the infirmary and beat her to it.

“Who do I have to kill? I swear, if Nico is shadow travelling like a madman agai- Oh Gods!”, Will interrupted himself, a look of horror on his face as he was met with the sight of his twin sister barely able to stand up, and covered from head to toe in blood, mud, and dirt. “(y/n/n), what happened?!” He examined her quickly before holding the door open so the Hermes boys could get in and slowly lay (y/n) on one of the bunks.

“It’s a bit of a story, and I don’t know if I feel like repeating it again right now”, she said weakly, wincing a bit as Will swiftly pulled her worn jean jacket off, “but the short version is that a cyclops punched me and I have an arrow through my stomach… And probably a broken arm too. And I might have hit my head when I fell… it, eh, hurts a bit…”

“Gods…”, Will sighed, “Well, do you feel nauseous? Disorientated? Can you see clearly or is anything blurry?” 

“Eh… a little dizzy maybe, and a weak headache, but my sight is fine and I’m not feeling sick.”

 “Right”, Will mumbled as he wiped a small amount of blood from his sister’s forehead and briefly inspected the small wound. “Something positive I suppose…”. He put a small bandaid on it to slow the bleeding down at least momentarily, before moving to look at his sister’s arm which was indeed bent in a rather weird way. “Well, head-related injuries are always scary, I’ll have to examine it further to know how bad it actually is. The arm is absolutely broken - annoying, but fixable - though this arrow…” He grabbed a pair of scissors and cut through her T-shirt so that he could get to the wound.  “Jeez, (y/n/n)… How long have you been bleeding?”

She took a deep breath before answering. “I’m not sure, it feels like an eternity, but an hour maybe?”

“AN HOUR?!” Will tried to stay calm, but his now pale face told another story. “Holy… Okay, eh, (y/n/n), I’m gonna… I have to get the arrow out and stop the bleeding as fast as I can, you- you’ve already lost way too much blood. Let's just hope that it missed anything vital.”

He whispered the last part, but (y/n) hardly heard the rest either, as she slowly but steadily started drifting off to sleep. “Sure thing… You do that, I’m just gonna doze off for a quick sec…”

“Oh no, you’re not!” Will dropped what he was holding and grabbed her shoulders to shake her gently. “(Y/n/n), I get that you’re exhausted, but you have to stay awake. As I said, you lost a lot of blood, and you may have a concussion. Sorry, I’m not even gonna argue with you - you’re not falling asleep.”

He turned back to the brothers who were watching from afar, wanting to know what happened but also not being in the way. “Connor, Travis, you have to keep her talking while I work, okay?”

“Sure”, Travis nodded, as Connor grabbed (y/n)’s right hand again. “Wanna tell us about the new kids?”

“Yeah”, Connor added. “They seem cool!”

“They are…” (y/n) moved a bit, carefully letting Will remove the piece of her T-shirt that he had cut off to get to the wound. “Only seven years old, fighters both of them. They ran away from different orphanages in Vermont and took down a basilisk together in Albany and have taken care of each other si- AHHHHH.”

She let out a harsh scream as her brother swiftly pulled what was left of the arrow out of her chest, and would probably have rolled off the bed if not for the Stoll brothers holding her down as Will apologised profusely. 

“I’m so sorry, (y/n/n)”, he mumbled sadly, as he handed Travis a big piece of ambrosia, “but that was the worst of it. You’re doing really well, just hold on. You should try to have some ambrosia now that the arrow’s out.” She struggled to take a few shallow breaths as the extreme pain slowly began to fade again, but nodded and accepted the small piece of godly food Travis was offering her. The pain instantly lessened even more as the flavour of her mother’s gingerbread cookies combined with a touch of magic consumed her whole being. (Y/n) finally took a really deep breath, but when she exhaled it felt as if every single drop of energy she had been grasping onto left her at once. She allowed herself to close her eyes and immediately began drifting off to sleep, the worried voices of Will, Travis, and Connor simply fading into silence.

---

(Y/n) was desperate for a few hours of peaceful rest, but unfortunately sleep and nightmares tended to almost always go hand in hand for demigods. She relived the last 24 hours in her sleep, everything from leaving camp in the early morning feeling excited to bring some new kids back to the exhausting battle that could have ended badly if not for the cyclops’ inability to stay on its feet. During the actual fight, it had happened so quickly that she hadn’t even noticed it at first, but this time she could clearly see how the monster roughly yanked a sharp arrow from her quiver and began making his way back towards her. She lay flat on the ground, desperately trying to move out of the way, but she couldn’t. It was as if all her muscles suddenly decided to to take any more orders from her brain. The cyclops lifted his arm, getting ready to deliver the final blow, as (y/n) closed her eyes, starting to accept her fate.

It felt as if time itself stopped. All she could hear was her own shaky breathing - until suddenly it wasn’t… There was a also voice, far away, sure, but still clearly there…

“(Y/n/n)? Please wake up! C’mon!”

It sounded familiar, but she couldn’t pinpoint who it belonged to. She focused and tried to listen for the voice again, but she was so exhausted… Giving in to the darkness felt so inviting… And simple. She could do with simple for once.

“No, no, no!” The voice cracked, panic and desperation shining through. “Don’t you dare give up now! C’mon, (y/n), I’m here, I’ve got you! Don’t give up… please…”

She was so close to slipping away, but something about that seemed wrong, and the reassuring words plus the comforting feeling brought to her by the sound of the familiar voice gave her precisely the boost of energy she needed. Shaking herself out of the nightmare, (y/n) inhaled sharply before shooting up, her eyes darting around the room until someone gently placed their hands on her shoulders, causing her to meet their gaze.

“(y/n)!”

She blinked a few times, shaking violently as she began realizing where she was. “Will?”

“Oh Gods!” He hugged her tightly, perhaps a bit too tight, but it didn’t matter in that moment - the 16-year-old was just so incredibly relieved to see that his sister was alright. “You’re alive!”

(Y/n)’s breathing evened out again as she leaned into her brother. “I’m sorry, Will. I’m so sorry…”

He didn’t let go of her arms, but moved back slightly and sent her a questioning look. “What do you mean?”

“I… I just… I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Gods, (y/n/n), I always worry.” He moved closer again. “I’m just happy you’re okay! I mean, it’ll be a while before you’re back doing quests of course”, he sent her a serious look, “but the fact that you woke up is a good sign”. 

(Y/n) accepted the ambrosia piece Will offered to her before answering. “All thanks to you.”

“Well”, he shrugged, “your body did most of the hard work...” (Y/n) shook her head at Will’s modesty before starting to push herself off the bed to stand up.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!! Stop! What do you think you’re doing?!”, Will exclaimed, swiftly pushing her back down. "You have been unconscious for over four days and lost so much blood, and that’s not even mentioning your head, arm or other random scratches. You’re staying here at least until Friday, no discussion.”

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, secretly feeling very lucky to have a brother as caring as Will. "Okay, I'm sorry. I just need to stretch my legs for a second, please? Help me out?" 

Will didn’t look too happy with the idea, but understood how stiff she must be feeling after so many days and nodded. It wasn’t like (y/n) wanted to get up and run, she still felt really tired and weak. However, after that horrifying moment of helplessness that she experienced in her dream, just the confirmation that she could in fact still move her arms and legs was incredibly comforting. When everything felt normal, she tried a few careful steps and immediately stumbled, but didn’t fall thanks to Will’s support.

“Light-headed?”

“Yeah, a bit…”

“Alright, that’s enough, back you go.” He guided her back to the bed, and she lay her head back down on the pillow.

"There we go!", Will smiled, "can I get you anything?"

"A cup of tea, please? Red, no honey?"

"You’ve got it!"

Five minutes later Will returned, balancing two cups of tea and a cheese sandwich on a tray. "Who ordered the tea and sandwich?", he asked jokingly as he sat the tray on the bed. He placed some pillows against the wall and slowly helped his sister sit up against them. “That would be me", she smiled. Will also sat down on the bed and put an arm around (y/n). She took a small bite of the sandwich and leaned her head on her brother's shoulder. The siblings drank their tea in silence, enjoying the feeling of being together and safe, if only for the night.

<3

//L masterlist

[mitsuki91]

Of course because my brain can not stop and it's full of floating snowbaird plots, now I am thinking about a story post canon where Lucy Gray return to 12 and with Maude Ivory as the snowbaird ambassador... So I write a little bit and I present to you my own version of Maude Ivory, the new menance to society, who has the best (worst) part of Lucy Gray charm and Coriolanus manipulation:

She saw him again a year and a half later.

Unbelievable. Maude Ivory had insisted on taking part in this phantom Victory Tour that Panem was advertising everywhere - while Lucy Gray had stayed cooped up at home because she couldn't bear the thought of the Hunger Games, just as she had been at home during the summer event - and so she had gone to the square, alone in the crowd, to watch the little speech that that year's Victor was going to give.

And there he was.

Her hands itched. Maude Ivory bit her tongue, thinking back to the promise she had made, but there had to be a way... A way...

Coriolanus was not alone. He was moving with a small group of people - a blonde woman who looked like him, another blonde woman who looked like she had a stink on her face, and one with black hair so straight it looked like silk and an almost sullen expression - but she couldn't let this opportunity pass her by.

When the stage show ended she slipped through the crowd, taking advantage of her petite build and the fact that no one really paid attention to a nine-year-old girl, until she found herself just behind the group.

"... How dreary" the obnoxious blonde woman was saying "And you put up with what? A month? Far too long, if you ask me."

Maude Ivory leaned even closer and then tugged at the sleeve of Coriolanus' red coat.

He turned instinctively towards her and the world froze.

She saw it, in his blue eyes. An instant of panic, and then a pain so sharp it hurt reflexively, and then... Nothingness. A flat calm, deposited like the fine coal dust that covered everything at the Seam.

"... Do you have any caramel popcorn?" asked Maude Ivory, assuming her best good-girl-does-sweet-eyes expression.

The small group had stopped with Coriolanus and the girls were all puzzled and silent.

"No," replied Coriolanus, dryly.

Maude Ivory used her secret technique of making-a-cute-pout. Just a little glossy-eyed, to soften.

She let go slowly of his coat sleeve, trying to put in as much devastation as a poor, dirty, starving child could muster - which was a lot, she had to admit, so Maude Ivory congratulated herself as she waited for any reaction from him.

Which did not wait.

Coriolanus' lower lip trembled imperceptibly and his eyes filled with pain again - with regret, Maude Ivory realized at that moment.

A second later and Maude Ivory felt herself being lifted into his arms and found herself hanging by his side, her face at his height, while he smiled, tenderly, masking his suffering.

"Hey, how about I buy you a cake instead?"

"A cake? A whole one?!"

"Of course."

"Will you get me a chocolate one?"

"Whatever you like. Only, you have to help me. You see, I've never been to this part of the District: will you guide me to the bakery?"

Maude Ivory smiled and let out a few exclamations of enthusiasm. She began to guide him noisily and chaotically, pointing with her arms and hands, laughing when he pretended to take a wrong turn to be corrected. With a very small part of herself she was aware that the other girls were following them and that their expressions were priceless: of pure amazement, speechless in front of that spectacle in which Coriolanus almost made a fool of himself just to make a little girl laugh.

Perfectly so, thought Maude Ivory, enjoying the power she wielded over all of them, Coriolanus above all.

Barb Azure used to tell her that she was too smart and sprightly for her age, and in that moment Maude Ivory fully understood what her cousin meant. And she was proud of it.

Finally they arrived at the bakery, where Maude Ivory, still in Coriolanus' arms, made a lot of other scenes pretending to be undecided between different chocolate cakes. Finally she chose a medium-sized, heart-shaped one - because, it was obvious, even if he didn't know it, it had to be a gift from Coriolanus to his Lucy Gray - and as Coriolanus struggled to get the money out of his coat pocket, she threw her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulders, hugging and cuddling him. Surreptitiously she peered at the girls and saw that the obnoxious blonde looked disgusted, so she smiled brightly at her.

"Who are you?" she asked her, direct and innocent.

She emitted an annoyed snort.

"Livia Cardrew," she replied, "Coryo's girlfriend. You know, the guy who's buying you a cake for no good reason." she added in a hiss, addressing him.

Maude Ivory felt Coriolanus stiffen beneath her and widened her smile.

You are deluded, blondie.

"Then prepare yourself, for when I am grown I will take him away from you," she replied, quietly, and saw the dark-haired girl turn to hide a laugh in the palm of her hand.

"Oh really?" asked the third girl, smiling amused "And what is your name?"

"Maude," replied Maude Ivory. She purposely didn't say her middle name because, she knew, 'Maude' could be a Miss Nobody, but 'Maude Ivory' belonged to the Coveys - and the Coveys were a secret she only wanted to share with Coriolanus.

He seemed to appreciate it, however, as he turned his head slightly to the side to leave a light kiss in her hair.

That earned her another grunt of disapproval from stink-below-the-nose-Livia and an even squeakier laugh from the other girl.

"Then nice to meet you, Maude. I am Tigris, Coryo's cousin, and in a few years I will be honored to be a relative of yours."

You don't know how much, thought Maude Ivory.

Coriolanus had managed to pay, so they all left the bakery.

"Will you take me home?" asked Maude Ivory to Coriolanus "I'll tell you the way."

"Of course," replied Coriolanus, in a low voice.

Maude Ivory knew she was directing him towards many memories. Good memories, she hoped, though they must be full of bitterness since he didn't know Lucy Gray was back and well.

Fate would decide.

She would not break any promises, she would not say anything, but Coriolanus was going to return to the Covey house. And there he was going to find Lucy Gray.

They walked for about a quarter of an hour. Maude Ivory had chatted a little with the girls - she had found out that the third was called Clemensia and that she had been invited to attend the Victory tour as a friend of Tigris, who was the stylist, and Coriolanus, who was responsible for the success of the event.

Then they had arrived. The last house before the meadow.

Maude Ivory had stirred and slipped out of Coriolanus' grasp. Tam Amber had come out of the house and merely observed them, puzzled.

"Look!" had exclaimed Maude Ivory, taking the bag from Coriolanus' hands "Coryo gave me a cake!"

The girls called him that, so she had decided she would do the same.

Tam Amber took the bag from her hands and opened it, looking at the box with the cake shop symbol.

"Mmmmh..." he commented, neutral "Did you say thank you properly?"

Maude Ivory returned to Coriolanus and pulled him tightly into a hug. He, puzzled, merely looked at her.

"What a warm coat!" she exclaimed, looking up at him and enacting another skit of her own "I bet it would look great on my cousin Barbie! Do you know she has to run every morning to get warm because we don't have enough fabric for winter clothes?"

Come on, thought Maude Ivory, take the bait.

Coriolanus stared at her for several moments, confused. Then he raised an eyebrow, puzzled. He looked both irritated and amused.

“You want my coat? For... Your cousin?” he asked finally.

Maude Ivory performed a huge sly smile.

"My cousin would thank you very much if she were here, I'm sure."

Holy stars in the sky, that wasn't even a lie.

Coriolanus hid his mouth behind his hand. A flash of pain in his eyes, and then a secret laugh.

“You know what? That's fine. You've earned it,” he finally told her, taking off his coat. Maude Ivory heard the blonde hen exclaim "What?!" and ignored her. She took the coat from Coriolanus' hands and folded it back on itself, holding it up so it wouldn't touch the ground.

"Thank you! We will make good use of it!"

"I hope so. It's fine tailoring, you know."

"Fine what?"

"Never mind."

Coriolanus tousled her hair in a gesture that was both affectionate and familiar. Lucy Gray always did it to her.

"Kiss?" asked Maude Ivory.

Coriolanus raised an eyebrow again and then leaned towards her to leave a small kiss on her cheek.

"I really have to go now... Maude."

"Well, thanks for everything, stranger."

Coriolanus turned, after nodding to Tam Amber, and had almost reached the end of the street when Maude Ivory shouted one last thing to him.

"If you can, send me some caramel popcorn when you get home!"

She heard him burst out laughing and smiled back with thirty-two teeth. Coriolanus turned for a final wave and then disappeared behind a turn, tailed by the girls.

Maude Ivory, still with the coat in her hand, went round the house until she found Lucy Gray on the other side, standing at the wall, pale and with a terrible expression on her face.

As if she had seen a ghost.

And with a pain that mirrored what she herself had seen in his eyes.

Maude Ivory handed her the coat.

"I have not broken my promise, I swear," she told her. Lucy Gray remained silent. She did not even seem to be looking at her, lost in some memory she had not shared with her "It still smells like roses" Maude Ivory insisted.

With a terrible sigh Lucy Gray came back to reality and, with trembling hands, picked up the coat. She detached herself from the wall of the house and wrapped it around herself, sinking her face into the collar and sniffing at the top of her lungs.

“Thank you, Maude Ivory,” she said at last.

She was not stupid enough to refuse such a gift even though, Maude Ivory was sure, in a few days she would be scolded good and proper.

"Are we all celebrating with cake tonight? It's chocolate."

She saw Lucy Gray smiling, and smiled back.

The stars had not graced them this time but, she felt, sooner or later they would help her sort things out.

She wasn't going to stop trying anyway.

[knightyoomyoui]

TWICE x M Reader - "Cry For Me": PART 3

One more one-shot before I spend the rest of the days remaining before 2023 ends! This took 8 months after I last published the previous chapter, and I apologize for the delay caused by my lack of motivation to write and bunch of important tasks to do both in my private space and my campus. I recommend that yall read the first 2 parts before proceeding to this one so it can help yall remember what happened in this ongoing multi-part story. Enjoy reading and have a happy Christmas season everyone!

Here's my Ko-fi account where you can drop your donations or ask for a commission. You can check it out on my Tumblr profile too!  Buy knightyoomyoui a Coffee. ko-fi.com/knightyoomyoui - Ko-fi ❤️ Where creators get support from fans through donations, memberships, shop sales and more! The original 'Buy Me a Coffee' Page. Previously on TWICE x M Reader - [Cry For Me] : PART 2

Nayeon opens her bag and takes out her camera. She turns it on and scrolls down on the gallery and paused at the exceptional picture that when she shows it toher, it won't need any further explanations to spill in addition. "I must say, he did kept you out from it. Although, having an eyes is useless when your mind is blind... and that what he is." Nayeon then gave the camera to Tzuyu and watched her look at it horribly. "I know it's not the perfect thing you want to see, but I have to remind to you again Tzuyu. You agreed to help me, I'm just doing to favor in return. This is one of my ways. I'm going to open your eyes and see the reality. Especially... when the truth is right there to set you free." In the middle of the night, sounds of helpless, broken and grieving screams and cries can be heard in the Chou residence. Despite of the exhausted eyes, Tzuyu's tears still pours out from her eyes one after the another until she finally burst out in loud sobs. She pounded the bed, raked her hair aggressively and threw all her pillows with her clenched fists in all anger, rage and devastation. She remained suffering inside the darkness as the image of you and Momo kissing outside of the gym earlier continues to intensify the pain in her heart and mind while her vengeful state becomes intensified.

The next morning, Jeongyeon and Nayeon had breakfast at a neighboring café in Jeongyeon's neighborhood. In an attempt to lighten the mood, they engaged in talk about unrelated subjects until Nayeon made the decision to go back and concentrate on the actual task they were working on. Nayeon stated inquiringly, "About YN, how did it go well?" but her tone hardly conveyed her curiosity. She will never develop any expectation when your name is spoken. As Jeongyeon was reminded of what had transpired the night before, the disappointment that had been building inside of her surfaced again. "Uhh... nothing.", she said.

Not wanting to get misintepreted and just leave her friend hanging for a lack of detail, she emphasized it further. "I-I mean... it didn't happen."

"What do you mean?" Nayeon furrowed her brows.

Jeongyeon bent her head down and stared at her nearly empty pasta dish. "He didn't show up. The receptionist from his workplace yesterday told me that it was his dayoff but he didn't saw any signs of him outside." To Nayeon's perplexity, Jeongyeon nodded, "So you were supposed to meet him there?" She shook her head and clicked her tongue. "How am I not surprised that he'll forget it." Jeongyeon sighed, "He said he was free." "But anyways, maybe he was with Tzuyu yesterday. I shouldn't complain about it if it was his girlfriend he chose to spend his time rather than me who is his ex." Nayeon saw that you had let Jeongyeon down once more. She knew in advance that you wouldn't provide her the appropriate apologies, like you did a year ago. In retrospect, she was truly appreciative of it as the longer you persist in your obstinacy and self-centeredness, the more she has been inspired to rebel against you in an effort to exact revenge on you for the harm you caused to her friend's weak heart. Even yet, it was difficult for her to accept that the only thing that came of it was that you were still ruthlessly breaking Jeongyeon's heart and now hurting Tzuyu as well, who is aware of the darker part of your nature. Nayeon chimed in, presumably trying to shift the responsibility and allay Jeongyeon's concerns, saying, "It's fine, Jeong. I already knew that it'll go that way." It made her wonder, though, if it was the sole reason behind Jeongyeon's melancholy. "Do you too, right?", she checked. Jeongyeon turned to face her, shocked by Nayeon's persistence. "I-I am." She pretended to be happy. Nayeon's eyes narrowed. She had known Jeongyeon for almost ten years. She's skilled at lying, but because they've grown close to the point where they resemble siblings, Nayeon wouldn't take it well.

"Should I remind him again?" Jeongyeon asked. Nayeon hated to see her slowly getting manipulated again by YN's disguise of being a nice, sweet guy that Jeongyeon used to fall in love- and then get fooled afterwards before. She had to pull her back away in case things gets more alarming.

Nayeon doesn't forget that even after months of their break-up, Jeongyeon is still TRYING to get over him. The man still has this soft spot in her heart which serves as Jeongyeon's weakness from him despite how she despises him from what he did to her.

With that, Nayeon needs to do better and continue to flip that disadvantage into advantage in order to be useful against YN's downfall.

"No need, I still got him kept on track." Nayeon  said. "You're right, he was with Tzuyu yesterday. Fortunately she gave me a signal and that way I had to continue following him."

"And did you find anything suspicious?"

Nayeon looked at Jeongyeon's wondering gaze. She breathed deeply and gulped the saliva to her throat before responding.

"Getting there."

Although she detested lying to her friend, she made a mental promise to herself that she was going to tell what was true eventually, as for the time being this had nothing to do with Jeongyeon. On the other side, you parked your motorcycle next to the sidewalk in the interim. You got off and took off your helmet, bringing your personal items with you as you entered the bakery. The chimes chimed as the door opened, attracting the attention of the few individuals within.However, one woman in particular stood for a considerable amount of time staring at the man who had just entered the same room as her. As their eyes locked, a grin slowly appeared on her face.

It became wider when he fell in line and the more he gets closer, her blush became larger and eyes sparkled in front of him.

"Good morning, Mina." You grinned and said hello to the woman who actually owns this business. The more you pursue to intrigue her, the simpler it will be to get her drawn to you. You and Mina first met when her bakery became your go-to place whenever you wanted to have a sample of a fine, freshly baked bread across the street. The first time you discovered this place was when you pointed her location as your recommendation to Jeongyeon for the two of you to try some delicious baked goods to take home.

You led yourselves there with much pleasure. Although Jeongyeon was a stunning lady who accompanied you at the time, as soon as you walked into the bakery, it seemed as though you were drawn constantly and automatically to the alluring beauty of the cashier who was waiting to serve you and your ex-wife. Mina was so lovely. You were quite attached to her when you had the chance to get to know her better and started going to her store frequently. She remembered you as a regular customer because of something in her gentle voice, her melodious laugh, and her carefree smile.

And the more you two get to know yourselves more, you became even more comfortable to atleast try to test this woman with your ways of stealing her heart and making her fall in love with you as much as you are developing the same for her.

"Hey, YN!" Mina welcomed you. "Where have you've been these past few days? Didn't get to see you here."

"Ooohhh missed me already?" You teased her. Mina became shy and takes her eyes away at your sight.

"I-it's not like that, I was just c-curious." Mina reasoned out. "You know that with the most of the times I get to see you coming here, it'll make me feel strange to just suddenly not being able to spot your presence here."

You hummed and nodded, shrugging your shoulders. "Now that I'm here, are you happy now?" You smirked.

Mina giggled at your silliness. "You cheered up also my day more, YN."

"Good for me, because I always love to see your lovely smile, Mina." You reached for her cheeks and pinched it.

She pointed to the many bread and pastry varieties arranged on the glass shelf underneath you and asked, "Stop with the fluttering words, what do you wanna buy?" She got your favorite treats once you mentioned them, packaged them, and calculated the total price. You thanked her after paying and made a gesture to blow her a kiss before heading out of the store. Your kind gesture made the young girl's heart skip a beat, even though she had no idea that she would soon become just another victim of a love fraud.

Back on the current status of the mastermind, Nayeon reaches the place she spent hours monitoring by, which almost made her bored. Entering the place without the needed proper attire, she unbotheredly walked in and approached her next target.

"Hi, miss. Are you here for an class appointment or a simple workout?" The cashier entertains the newly arrived client.

"Oh, nothing. I just want to speak with the owner, please." Nayeon denied. She looked at one of the posters pasted of the wall and found an interesting name. "Ms. Hirai Momo."

"Uhm... sorry miss, but if you don't have any scheduled class with her, I'm afraid I can't allow you to meet her." The lady still didn't accepted her permission.

Nayeon's patience is being tested yet she remained calm, not wanting to cause a scene here especially that the lady is making sense anyway. She can't just come here and asked for a stranger who actively running an establishment as of the moment to engage in a conversation with her.

She sighed before speaking. "Is she currently here, if I may ask? Actually she's a friend of mine.", she said.

"Oh... I'm really sorry miss." The watchlady bowed down to apologize for restricting a close friend of her boss. "But... Ms. Hirai is not here right now and will not be visiting for today."

Nayeon oohed and gave a comprehensible nod. She was a little let down that after traveling this far, the person she wanted to speak with wasn't here. Nevertheless, she wasn't very impacted by it because of her desire and espionage. "Okay, I'll just ask her by myself. And also, don't tell her that I came here today, got it?"

The woman complied with her request. "Thank you."

Nayeon hurried back to her car after leaving the gym. In an instant, she turned on the engine and spun the wheels. "Alright, her home it is then."

She drived for almost less than an hour until she reached a street on Seoul where she spotted the familiar place she has recently been into. Nayeon went out of the car and stepped in front of the gate before pressing the doorbell.

"Who is it?" The occupant inside called through the talkie.

"Hello, is this is the house of Ms. Hirai Momo? I'm a friend of YN's. He told me to give something to you." Nayeon claimed.

"Ah okay, wait there a second please." Momo responded after. Nayeon just chuckled badly at her deceiving words.

She saw a front door opening, and there she was. Momo stepped out of the house and walked through the gate to open it. The two women stood face to face at each other for the first time.

"Hello, sorry to interrupt you on your time today, Ms. Hirai... but can I just speak with you personally for a moment?" Nayeon suggested. The Japanese woman was speechless as she stared at the unfamiliar face for a while before replying, with some doubts forming inside of her.

"S-sure, come in." She gestured her and gave her a way to pass through.

"Thank you. It's nice to meet you by the way, I'm Nayeon." She offered her hand and Momo accepted it with a small smile.

"I'm Momo."

Together, they went into the home when she shut the gate. Momo led Nayeon into the living room and inquired about her preferences; Nayeon ignored her and assured her that their talk would be brief.

"So, you say you have something from YN that you want to give from me?" Momo responded.

Nayeon gave a nod. She prepared herself since she was going to tell this unaware woman about her major plan. "Yes, but let me clarify things first."

Momo was still unable to speak. "This wasn't directly given to me by him, but I assure you that what I have in me right now... was his own doing."

"What do you mean by that?" Momo knitted her brows, expressing confusion on Nayeon's choosing of words. She opened her phone and  gave it to Momo. As the latter looks at it to know what the content was, she swear that she felt like her heart was about to lose its function to beat.

"W-what the fuck is this?" Momo slowly losing the volume of her voice, her lips shuddering followed by her hands that are gripping the sacred object presenting the painful truth on her. "Who the hell are you?"

"I'm just a generous friend who seeks vengeance for my beloved friend and for those who fell the same situation as her." Nayeon said. "And that includes, you. Momo."

"What are you talking about?!"

She threw the phone beside Nayeon's space in the couch. Momo stood up quickly in anger, creating a screeching sound on the chair she sat in.

Nayeon who didn't flinched, just matched Momo's level of intensity in her stare. "From the way you let me in to your house just by the mention of the name YN LN, I could take it that you knew him really well. Especially if i'm not mistaken... you two have something really fishy going on between yourselves."

Nayeon crossed her legs and continued to view Momo's widened eyes as she listens to this mysterious woman spitting all the revelations in front of her. "You may be asking yourself right now, how do I know about it. I have no choice but to admit, I've been keeping my eyes not only on him... but on you too."

"And why do you stick your nose on us? What do you want from us?!" Momo stomped in irritation.

"No, Momo. By the look of your face after what you saw, it should be what do I want from YOU."

Nayeon grabbed the phone and stood up to confront the emotional Momo. She presented the picture again featuring YN and Tzuyu kissing together in front of the clothing store Tzuyu works at. "Don't you still get it? I'm here to tell you that your man who is my friend's ex-husband is cheating with some other woman. THE SAME THING THAT SHE DID TO MY FRIEND AFTER HE LEFT HER BROKEN AND ALONE!"

Momo winced at Nayeon's scream close to her face, little did she know that the rage and anger that Nayeon is containing inside of her from YN is more terrifying and dangerous. "And fuck him for doing that to her! I even had to fly here back from States to take care of my friend because she needed it!"

"So don't you even dare to pull out any mercy or defense card against that cheating bitch because I swear to God, he never was sincere as you. He doesn't care at all even for you." Nayeon tells Momo. "He deserves nothing but little protection on his side, now that I'm coming for him. But ofcourse, I'm not gonna be like him, I'm not gonna be alone on this fight, because I'm bringing a backup with me."

She stepped forward to narrow her stare deeper on Momo's astounded display after learning your true colors.

"You have to join me on this one, Momo. Do this with me not only for Jeongyeon and Tzuyu... but for yourself too."

Momo finally whimpered and shed tears down across her face as she couldn't bear the aching feeling disturbing her both straight into her heart and mind. She is still in disbelief that  you dared to include her on your dirty mind games and offensive tricks.

"This isn't true..." Momo shook her head rapidly. Her heart that was already became fond of his affection is fighting for denial just for the sake of her love. "He told me that he loved me..."

"He never truly did, unnie." Another feminine voice just interrupted whuch effectively stole Nayeon and Momo's attention. Sana who is at the stairs, sitting and has been watching their argument from the start after hearing loud voices coming from downstairs, heard everything they talked about.

"S-Sana?" Momo questionably called her.

Sana lowered her head in a mix of afraid and nervousness from what she's about to tell her long-time friend. "I was a victim of YN's mischief too, unnie."

Nayeon who didn't expect the sudden turn of events, took the turn to interrogate the new girl. "What did he do to you?"

A bit of a flashback when YN went to Momo's home, after some fun times they shared through most of the afternoon, Momo became tired and fell asleep on his lap.

Sana who was currently working on the bunch of records she has to encode as her job, took a short break by going down, filling up some cold water and taking some nice sweet dessert to regenerate herself on finishing her task.

After she finished drinking a refreshing water, she got taken aback when she felt YN nuzzled on her neck while hugging him from behind.

"You smell so good today, Sana. I missed your scent so much." He said as he took another huge sniff on her nape. "Did you just took a bath earlier?"

Sana turned around and slapped him on the face quickly. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Cmon, Sana really? We've been like this close for some time now and you're gonna act dumb on it?" He tried to reach her waist but Sana pushed him away.

"I know what you're trying to say, but I never wanted it and I never even gave you the rights to touch me freely like as if you own me." Sana retorted, with a slight grunt on her voice.

"Oh you will be mine, soon. Are you really gonna keep being feisty against me? I'm liking it more, you know?" He stepped forward, prompting Sana to lean back which only led to her front body to purse closer. "Makes you look hotter to me."

"Stop being ridiculous, for fuck's sake, YN!" Sana kicked him in the shin causing him to groan almost in the pain before shutting his mouth to avoid Momo from waking up. "Momo is in love with you, have some shame please!"

She just walked away from YN, leaving him glaring on her annoyingly. "And can you just please leave me alone and get out of here now. You can visit Momo unnie again tomorrow or else I'll force you out by myself."

At the end of her recollection, Sana looked apologetically at Momo who felt pity for her cousin being harassed by the man she thought her intentions for love was nothing but pure behind her back.

"And I want you to believe her because... I-I fell in love for him too, unnie." Sana seethed the pain from her chest. "But I never liked what he's doing to me because I know he already has you, unnie. It's not right. And I always want you to be happy ever since we were kids, you know that. That's why when I learn that you got him first, I just let it aside even if it'll hurt me."

Momo cried harder, as the guilt and her sympathy for her cousin grew. "So please, listen to me unnie. Don't let him just do this on you."

All three of them became silent after Momo repeatedly spoke 'I'm sorry' for her cousin who chose to sacrifice letting go of her feelings for the man she loves in order to let the person she cherish the most in her life continue to experience the happiness she's getting from the same man she would've love to receive from.

Sana choosing her over you as the more important option was nothing for Momo to be infuriated about on her cousin who is loving the same man she loves also. She was rather acknowledged her decision more. She has now realized that not only her, but her cousin was also just got manipulated by his fake personality.

"So, what are you gonna do, Momo? Would you still remain your side linked on the man who is just using you for his own desire or you will listen to your cousin who cared far better for you than him?" Nayeon set the options for Momo to pick.

"If your purpose of coming to us was to get back on him for playing on our feelings..."

"... then we're joining you" Momo finished Sana's words. Nayeon encapsulated a satisfied smirk at their right response, which provided an additional inclusion to her revengeful accomplices against YN's toxic and unforgivable ways. "He has to regret messing on our feelings like it was nothing."

Meanwhile, you went to the ground floor of your building to retrieve a key from one of the rooms at the conceirge to access it after finishing your lunch.

You were about to head out of the building to look for some meal to feast when the figure of Jeongyeon looking at your direction as she sits at one of the chairs on the waiting area caught your sight.

"Jeongyeon, hey!" You greeted her, almost impressed at yourself for not being awkward already on meeting her, probably due to your reestablished connection with her as a friends through her initiation. "You're back."

However, he was rather surprised that Jeongyeon is wearing a sullen mood, her lips are pouting at his approach. "Hey."

"What's wrong? You look so down. Is there a problem?"

He then got hit by her bag as she glared madly at him. "You really forget about what we agreed on yesterday, don't you?"

"O-oh wait, no!" You denied, adding some hand gestures to emphasize your reaction. "Ofcourse I don't, how would I be?"

"Then why didn't you showed up?" Jeongyeon rolled her eyes. "You never changed. You really can't be tr-"

"Wait look, my girlfriend needed me more okay?" You stated your reason. Jeongyeon felt a pang on her chest at the mention of Tzuyu, dragging her mood even lower, as if it was unnecessary. "She needed me to take care of her because she didn't really feel good after leaving her work."

"Ahh... I see... okay. I understand." Jeongyeon faked a smile and nodded. "I mean, it's your girl. Her priority is more important than me who is nothing but on-"

"I was about to message you but I noticed that you blocked me in every contacts that we used to have." You added, stopping Jeongyeon from her drama. She paused and then realized her own mistake. "So I didn't get a chance to inform you, well thankfully you're here to let me to tell you personally."

"O-oh, is that so?" Jeongyeon said with a sheepish chuckle. "I-I'm sorry. I forgot to unblock you. I guess I also forgot on my part."

You just laughed and shook at how hilarious the coincidence that just occurred. "It's fine. But can you forgive me now too?"

Jeongyeon was about to speak but she sensed some bit of a hidden message there, creating some trouble within herself. She is compelled to say it but something is also pulling her back from doing it. Perhaps it's simply her tendency to overthink things, but there was a clear reason why the word he just spoke became sensitive to her as well. She observed you again, and her face shifted to a bland demeanor when she had intepreted that it's still not for the one thing she's hoping to have from him. Jeongyeon guessed it'll take her more than that to qualify his sincerity for the casualties she had cost. 

"Jeongyeon, you're alright?" You checked up on her as you noticed she got lost on her deep thoughts again.

Snapping out of her trances, she blinked rapidly and faced you again. "Y-yeah, I'm okay. You're going to eat right?"

"Yeah. It's my break now."

"Then I'm joining you, if you mind?"

You smiled at Jeongyeon's insist. "Sure. Let me pick some place for us."

After successfully visiting a restaurant, you and Jeongyeon ordered your foods and to your kindness, you persuaded that you'll be paying Jeongyeon's bill in which she declined at first but only ended up letting you as you also didn't allow her to reject your offer.

You two had a very comfortable and lively lunch, partnered with some engaging conversation about your recent happenings in life, while proceeding to exclude what happened to the two of you in the past.

In turn, you couldn't help but notice the strength and grace with which Jeongyeon had moved forward in her life. Her charming and alluring beauty that was used to hook your feelings on her, you couldn't deny that it never failed to do you so. It's starting to create statics of clips from some of your memories of her where your mood and your adoration for her gets uplifted simultaneously whenever you see this wonderful view of her.

In relief, the waiter distracted your reminiscence of Jeongyeon that is almost getting on your feelings again, passing the receipt of your ordered foods before you gave your payment.

Leaving the restaurant with Jeongyeon after finishing your lunch with her, you and her returned to your workplace. "Thanks for paying for my meal, YN."

"No problem, it's my way of catching up to you." You said. Jeongyeon appreciated the thoughtfulness.

"Well, I have to go now. I still have somewhere to go, I just came here to remind about our supposed meetup yesterday." Jeongyeon excused herself.

"Oh okay, be safe on the road Jeongyeon." You understand, nodding softly and smiling at her. "Goodbye and thanks for the time!"

"You too, YN." Jeongyeon waved her hand at you, but instead you returned the gesture by wrapping her around on your embrance, sending undescribable sensation tingling around her body. "I-it's really good to have you back, Jeong.", you remarked about the redefinition of your relationship with her. Jeongyeon listened, her heart surprisingly softened as she heard the tenderness in his voice.

Now that you disappeared in front of her and entered the building again, that left Jeongyeon to be stunned once again at your heartful and cheerful action, she sighed deeply and clenched her fists at how tough it is again to resist the glimpse of your old being while knowing the bitter truth of it that you still haven't changed, leading yourself astray.

She watched your back distancing away from her, breathing gets heavier as a result of a familiar longing feeling increasing, having her saddened at your lunch that brings her back to that particular time in the past when she had her first date with you and those other numerous times you had to take her outside before, almost giving the same vibes in comparison.

[texaschainsawmiracle]

Please help me buy groceries/pay rent!!!

Hi, I’m Wheatley, I’m a 24 year old agender individual living in the Bay Area.

Earlier this month I quit my second job because of being overworked, underpaid, and working in close proximity to sexual predators. I myself suffered abuse from one these individuals, and my HR reports changed nothing. I quit without a back up job.

After some searching I found another job but was hurt during the training portion, and they chose not to move forward with my employment there.

I’ve been shoplifting from grocery stores to feed myself, or exploiting the fact my medication acts as an appetite suppressant.

I haven’t been able to pay rent on time this entire year so I’m planning on moving to a cheaper place. The problem is that I have nowhere enough money in my bank account to pay a deposit for my future housing & my security deposit money for my current place will be tied up until my landlady does repairs. I am saving as much as I possibly can before my lease ends on 5/31/23. Moving back home is NOT an option, I’d really rather avoid moving back in with my abusive family if I can help it.

Please, any support you may be able to spare helps me immensely. I would truly appreciate if you could share this post if you see it.

my c*shapp: $wheatleyhastings

my v*nmo: @wheatleyhastings

my p*ypal: paypal.me/wheatleyhastings

Thank you so much for sharing.

[jpitha]

Gotcha!

The starship Unreliable Narrator sat in line to enter docking around the Human/K'laxi starbase. It was the beginning of staff rotation, so there were a lot of ships coming and going as people of all kinds came and left the starbase. Onboard, in addition to their regular crew was the K'laxi archivist Tirenian who was transferring to the station. The Narrator picked her up from K'lax when they were dropping off a load of Chamomile tea to the planet - its popularity was a recent fad among the K'laxi and humans scrambled to fill the need.

As they sat in line, waiting for their turn to dock, the Narrator came over the speakers. "Captain! I think I see the Timewinder! It looks like they just linked in-system. Permission to 'say hello'?"

Tirenian heard the quotes over "say hello" and was curious what they meant. Before she could ask, the Captain said "Permission granted, brace for shock!"

Alarm klaxons sounded all over the ship and everyone braced themselves. The belts around Tirenian's seat tightened, then backed off just a little so she could still breathe. There was a thunderous double boom as juke charges were fired and the ship spun 180 degrees in place and they linked out of line, right where they were.

Luckily, Tirenian didn't suffer the major side effect of the human's wormhole generators - she didn't die and come back when they went through - so she was able to watch, horrified with what she thought was happening.

The moment they reappeared in space, they were directly over the Timewinder. She heard the doors slam open and the rhythmic thumps of a slug gun firing! After 10 shots or so they linked again, this time under the Timewinder. They let off another volley of 10 shots, but this time the Timewinder was ready for them. The Narrator's hull rang like a gong with the shells striking them.

The Narrator shrugged it off, slammed the weapon bays shut and linked back to their place in line. The total time that had elapsed was less than a few minutes.

Once they were back in the line, everyone relaxed. The belts were loosened and the captain came over the intercom. "Attention everyone. We were able to score..." he looked at a screen at his station. "11 hits out of 20. That's good, but we can do better. I want everyone on double drills until the end of the week." He turned off the intercom as everyone groaned.

"Captain....what happened?" was all Tirenian could muster. She was shaking slightly in her seat and utterly confused.

"Oh! Tirenian! I forgot you were aboard, I apologize. We uh...were playing tag with the Timewinder. They started it last year, and now whenever we see the other, it's a race to see who can score the most hits in a blitz attack. It's good practice in addition to being fun."

"Hits? I heard the slug launchers fire...didn't you..."

"Oh no! no no no, it's paint! We're shooting paint shells. We agreed that for the year that neither would wash the paint off and at the end of the year the person with the most hits scored buys the other dinner for the whole crew."

While everyone was relaxing and calming down after the excitement, the Starbase came over the intercom. "Unreliable Narrator, Unreliable Narrator, this is Starbase, how many hits did you get??"

"We only got 11 out of 20 that time, we were sloppy." the Narrator replied.

"Oh, well, you still go the jump on them, I'm sure you'll do better next time. You're 3rd in line, estimated time to docking is twenty minutes."

Tirenian could only sit back and sigh. This was going to be a long rotation.

[transboysokka]

pls allow me to make a long life update ramble here bc im sick of irl people not understanding at all

I feel like I have a feel disconnected points to make

People like me aren’t meant to get bachelor’a degrees and we’re DAMN SURE not meant to get master’s

I’m 1000% just in survival mode right now and there’s theoretically a month left to go but idek if I’ll make it that long tbh

It has taken me YEARS to figure out a healthy/sustainable work-life balance that goes with my executive dysfunction but that’s NOT POSSIBLE working full time AND doing a degree

I’ve been feeling guilty for resting at all lately (and probably should) but yet if I don’t my health suffers majorly

It has always been hard for me to get simple things done, but now I can’t even THINK about simple necessary errands like walking to the supermarket or going to get a cell phone number or updating shit at the bank because ALL my energy goes to keeping me and my dog alive, keeping a job, and trying to stay in this program

I have delayed my transition by YEARS to pay for all this which was definitely the wrong call ughhhhh

I worked SO hard all of K-12 to get into a good university, when it came down to it didn’t even want to go, was too depressed to apply to hardly any, chose my best option still not knowing what I wanted to do but forced into it and forced to take out all of these loans when I didn’t even know what they meant.

Ended up never dealing with audhd shit, trauma shit, didn’t know what I was doing with my life, tried to get jobs to pay for school but couldn’t handle class and jobs at the same time so got more depressed until I stopped going to classes altogether and got kicked out

That would have been great for me tbh but I still didn’t know what else to do so I begged them to let me back in which they did and I ended up barely graduating with some pointless major I just chose to get me a degree. And also $80k of student debt I had no way to even comprehend knowing how to use

Didn’t know what to do after that either so I ended up in retail for a couple years before I got a random rare opportunity to get me out of there and doing what I always wanted

Well. I felt like I needed to make up for lost time degree-wise and ended up basically begging myself into this half-shitty program that culminates in this masters. I applied maybe five years ago, waited a little over two to start until I had money to pay for it (this is after fleeing the US and the 80k lmao) and somehow killed the first year of it.

I took another year and a half off trying to figure out the rest of the money which I eventually did and that’s how we end up here. I will hopefully have the degree in October but will still be paying for it the rest of the school year rip

So financially this sacrifice is obviously huge and on one hand I never thought I’d be able to do it so yay me and on the other hand I have NOT been able to pursue v v important trans stuff which I notice and deal with eVERY GODDAmn day thanks AND I will also probably not be able to make my every-18-month visit home next summer with my family which also gODDAMN SUCKS because family was EVERYTHING to me growing up and they’ve all forgotten it and probably think I have too but I miss those mfers so much and they would never buy a flight to come see me so.

ANYWAY yeah in undergrad I could NOT do a job and school at the same time so I’ve been proud of being able to handle it this time around but the last fourish months of this program are so intense and I am NOT handling it

Like I have done SO WELL up to now so I feel like I just GOTTA keep going but it’s SO HARD and I’m TOO STUPID and I’ve been told my whole life I’m not meant for higher education and now BOY DO I KNOW IT

I’m just trying to keep going. I order food and groceries to my house. I’m putting off super important errands and appointments as long as I can because I JUST CANT GET THERE I CANNOT WASTE SPOONS ON CELL PHONE PLANS RIGHT NOW I’m just trying to stay alive holy shit

I hate feeling so incompetent in my personal life especially because I’ve always put my professional life first out of like. Fear of losing it. and I KNOW this “laziness” is justified bc I’m spread so thin AND have executive dysfunction and a chronic illness but holy shit it still feels bad scoob. So fucking bad.

I think what I need to do is arrange time off work just to get this all sorted and finished but I’ve literally never taken a day off in my life so I’d feel bad and have MORE anxiety figuring out how to do it lololol ahhhhhhhh

[nkjemisin]

Things in my ask box #2

Got a new one for the “questions that might catch the poster some flak” bin. The poster asks, “What were you thinking when you wrote ‘The Ones Who Stay and Fight?’“ There was more to the question, but that’s what it boils down to (and I did clarify with the ask-er that this is what they wanted to know most).

I don’t generally like to discuss readers’ interpretations of my stories. Art is subjective, and what one person loves another might loathe, sometimes for the exact same reasons. Also, half the time I don’t even know what I’m doing; sometimes I don’t notice a theme in my work until years later when a reviewer mentions it, or I re-read it long after publication. My mind works in mysterious ways, even to me. But since you asked what I was thinking and not to confirm/deny a particular interpretation, I’ll try to explain.

(First, for those who haven’t read it, Ursula K. Le Guin’s “The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas” is her most famous short story, and probably one of the most famous short stories in the world. There’s a whole subgenre of responses to it, because it provokes such powerful reactions in readers, and I’m no exception. [I’m a huge fan of Le Guin, if you didn’t know from me screaming about her to anyone who would listen for like 10 years now.] If you haven’t read the story, you should; it’s probably available somewhere online. There are a million ways to interpret the story, and if you poke around for reviews or lit crit analyses you’ll find feminist readings, anti-capitalist readings, mythopoeic/folklorist readings, and more. My story does not make sense if you haven’t read her story; it functions solely in conversation with Le Guin’s. Think of it as fanfic, if that helps.)

I’m not a literary scholar and I don’t pretend to be, but I’ve always leaned into the anti-capitalist reading of “Omelas.” Anybody who’s reading this in the developed world is already living in Omelas. Every time we buy a pair of Nikes, we’re contributing to sweatshops, child labor, migration crises, pollution... our own version of the abused child locked in a cellar. No ethical consumption under capitalism. Also, I lean anti-capitalist with “Omelas” because I think often of this quote by Le Guin:

“We live in capitalism. Its power seems inescapable. So did the divine right of kings. Any human power can be resisted and changed by human beings. Resistance and change often begin in art, and very often in our art, the art of words.”

Bad. Ass. I want to be her when I grow up.

That said, when I decided to respond to this as a writer -- by writing back to it -- I was more interested in anti-racist readings of Omelas. Those interpretations don’t seem to be as popular, but at the time I wrote my story, I was trying to process the absolute bombardment of open racism and every other kind of bigotry that seemed to be metastasizing in the wake of Trump’s election. I pondered the world that these people seemed to want:  a world of war and endless suffering, doomed to end in extinction for us all (tho some believe Jesus or Jeff Bezos will whisk them away before things get too bad). I wondered what it would take to come back from that world, if we went down that path but managed to survive as a species. So to my mind, Omelas works well as a metaphor for conservatives’ (and fascists’) endless fantasies of the world that was, in which everything was wonderful before the “corruptions” of liberalism destroyed it -- corruptions like equality, diversity, intellectualism, religious freedom, and democracy. This is the “again” that the “make America great...” people embrace -- a “better” world that never existed. We all know that in the 1950s, there were plenty of kids in cellars, worse than today: BIPOC kids, queer kids, disabled kids, poor kids. If America’s wealthy and powerful get what they want, they will get to live in a utopian fantasy; the rest of us go in the cellar.

The society these people want is one that further-codifies the idea that some people are lesser. Some people aren’t as fully people, basically, and therefore don’t deserve rights, basic necessities, compassion, or life. Therefore I decided to make my “utopia” (scare quotes because, like Omelas, Um-Helat really isn’t) an anti-bigoted society, which has instead chosen to codify the idea that no one is lesser. Instead of its happiness depending on limited oppression, I wanted my “utopia” to depend on limited suppression of that insidious idea.

Suppression is no better than oppression, by the way. We’re used to oppression, so maybe it doesn’t seem so bad... to some. But both ways of maintaining these not-quite-utopias require harm to be done to some for the benefit of others. Omelas chose to limit the harm to a random child, and to a lesser degree to all its citizens, who must morally compromise themselves in order to enjoy their lives. Um-Helat chooses to limit the harm to those who’ve internalized some people are lesser -- the intolerant, per Karl Popper’s paradox of tolerance -- and to the “social workers,” who must morally compromise themselves in order for the other citizens of Um-Helat to thrive. I was also playing with the idea that there’s nowhere to walk away to. Imperialism and capitalism have made pretty much the whole world Omelas, in real life. So how does any society grapple with its own complicity with evil? Omelas is better off than our own world, and Um-Helat, because people can walk away, there.

It’s entirely possible that I failed to do what I tried to do with this story -- first because I tried to do so much. “Omelas” is a deceptively simple argument with deep, complex points being made; my attempt to answer had to cover a lot of territory. Second because Le Guin was a master of the short form, while I’m pretty much a dabbler, and third because this was also my first time trying pastiche, and it probably shows. But I believe in shooting my literary shot, hit or miss, and I’m glad that I did. It turned out better than I expected.

So that’s what I was thinking. ☺️