#that's why I gave her shitty stats

[acowardinmordor]

You Left Me - You Miss Me - Six

Sup, I finally wrote the next part. Mostly because of someone trying to find it via the fic finder blog, which gave me a big ol spike in anxiety about the lack of update.

Part One .... Part Four - Part Five

---

“Rob, no.”

“Don’t you tell me ‘no,’ Steven Dingus Harrington!”

“You can’t drive to Hawkins and kill the guy.”

“Oh yes I can! I'll take your bat with me!”

“Babe, you still don’t know how to drive, and I have work in the morning so I can’t take you.” 

“I’ll figure it out on the way!”

She wouldn’t. She wasn't going to drive to Hawkins. She would definitely, absolutely, one hundred percent kill Munson if she had the chance and Steve didn’t talk her out of it, but Robin wasn’t going to leave him alone when he’d had a breakdown an hour earlier. She wouldn’t let him sleep alone for the next few days, and she would go to work with him in the morning, and she’d probably skip her Stats class so she could stick by him after work too. 

It took Robin about thirty seconds to realize something had happened. 

That was the gap between her opening the car door, and Steve speaking. All he said was “hey, Robs” and she cut off her ramble about chlorofluorocarbons. The same way he could tell by the sound of her stirring soup, or which color eye shadow she wore, she knew immediately something had happened. 

She touched his arm.

And he had a breakdown in the college parking lot. 

Steve updated the tag on the side of the box and put it back on the shelf. He was,technically, working. Robin was ranting and using a tie-dye shirt as a prop. 

“You don’t need to crash our car trying to go kill a guy I’m not even mad at.”

“Ugh,” she flapped the shirt at him and slouched against the edge of the shelving unit. “Why not? Why are you not mad at him? How? I’m mad at him! He took the kids away from you! They’re annoying little shitheads but you loved them and he jus---”

“Rob,” he interrupted softly. He couldn’t get into that side of it right now. 

“Sorry. Sorry. But you’re not this nice, Stevie. You’re wonderfully bitchy and petty and it’s one of my favorite things about you, and I don’t get this. He sucks! This was super shitty! Why aren’t you mad at him for being an asshole?”

“It’s not his fault.”

“He said it was his fault!”

Eddie blamed himself, and maybe it was his fault, but it didn’t matter. Not in comparison.

“Are you going to inventory anything tonight, or is this just going to be me?”

“No! And why are you working?”

Because if he stopped, if he let himself turn his full attention towards it, he was going to fall apart again, and stupid as it was, checking inventory used up just enough of his focus that he couldn’t drown. Steve flicked through the stack of size smalls, and wrote it down on the list. “Uh, because we’re at work?”

“We both work tomorrow tonight and there is no way that Mary or Nick have ever looked at the stock sheets in their life, they aren’t going to look tomorrow either. No one will know.”

“I’ll know.” He glanced up to make eye contact for a second, and she caved with a groan. 

“If you were anyone but my soulmate, buddy…” She folded the shirt terribly, shoved it into the gap between the cardboard and the other shirts, and finally closed the box. 

Letting the silence settle gave Steve a minute to breathe, and reset himself without the rising tension. She knew that, and waited until, unspoken, she knew he was ready to keep going. 

“Steve.”

“I am mad, Robs. I am. You know that it’s.. At the kids, and at Hopper, and at myself for agreeing to this stupid idea, but I’m not mad at him.” 

“Why does he get special treatment?”

Hearing how that sounded, he tried again, “No, uh. I’m mad at him, but, like, the same way you get mad when the grandma in the crosswalk is going really slow and then drops something and goes back, and you end up stuck waiting again even though you should have made it through the light before. Yeah, it sucks, but it’s not like grandma was doing it specifically to fuck with you. She’s just, you know, shopping or whatever. 

“It wasn’t like there was a friendship there that he betrayed. He did something for his own life and it was sorta sucky, and it sucks for me, but he feels really shitty about it, so I don’t think he meant for them to, you know, vanish.”

Robin thumbed down the stack of Levis, whispering the count as she went. Three more sizes got counted before she responded. 

“You carried him out of there. You saved his life.”

Steve hummed absently. “He wasn’t bleeding that bad. His trash lid kept most of them off. I panicked when I saw blood and picked him up.”

“And that doesn’t make you friends?”

“It’s not like I only saved him because it was him. Not like I stopped and thought about whether I should get the bleeding guy to the hospital. Lifeguard, remember?” 

The other half of the thought, he bit back. He’d had nightmares about Billy after Starcourt. Dreams where he could have saved him, and didn’t. Where he could have saved Max from having to see that, having to recover from that. He saw Eddie bleeding, he saw one of his kids screaming, and there wasn’t a thought in his head. Just the need not to let it happen again. Not again. Not Dustin too. 

He kept his eyes on the inventory form so she didn’t see that part. 

“Still think it should have mattered more. Life saving creates friendships.”

“He was unconscious. I know you don’t know much about how guys act with each other, but generally both dudes are awake when they become friends.”

She snorted at his weak joke, throwing her pencil at him. It wasn’t anywhere near her. 

“New record, champ,  that one wasn’t even close enough for me to pretend to dodge it.”

“Ugh, I hate you.”

“Love you too, Robs.”

He got through a full set of kids dress shirts in peace, counted and listed. Then he pulled down the crate of kid’s dresses, next on the list to check. 

The whole can of worms would tear open when, if, when Eddie showed up with something from the kids. There was no version of that day that wouldn’t end with him falling apart. If he skimmed them, if he burned them, if he read them, if he wrote back, if he refused to take them at all, it didn’t matter. He was going to fall to pieces. 

If they wrote and it was real, if it was petty, if it was anger, if it was grief, if it was gloating he was gone, if it was begging him to come back, if it was proof that it was always fake, always a temporary placeholder until they found someone they actually like. The imminent breakdown was going to be bad no matter what. 

Like those safety videos in school about seat belts. 

Like knowing the car crash was coming, knowing it couldn’t be stopped, and knowing that nothing he did was going to make it any easier to bear. Slow motion, watching a car come -- a beat up old van come towards him. No time to put on a seat belt, no way to brace for it, just accept that it was going to happen and hope you survived.  

Robin cleared her throat to get his attention, and Steve blinked back to himself. 

“Did, uh, did you say something?”

Robin watched him for a minute. He let her this time. It was easier to let her see what he was feeling than try to turn it into words, and he needed her to let it go for now.. 

“I’m going to skip my bio lecture on Friday afternoon.”

“Birdie, you don’t--” 

“You are going to call in sick at the skate rink. We are going to make snickerdoodles and brownies and the cracker bark thing, and order pizza, and we’re going to make ourselves sick eating too much, and we’re going to watch some random movie on mute and make up our own story and dialogue. Got it?”

“Got it,” he smiled.

And it wasn’t going to make it all better. Eating two pounds of butter in a day wasn’t going to make it easier when Eddie showed up, but it was like hitting pause on that video. Car crash was still coming, but he could look away for a while. 

***

Steve clung to the pass shelf from the kitchen as the expected car crash hit him on Monday. John, always eager for the chance to throw someone out of the diner, looked over Steve’s shoulder. It was a nice moment. A nice little thought before he had to face what he’d agreed to. If he asked, John would throw Eddie out. Literally. Nice image, but not the one he got to see.

Instead, he declined the offer, and grabbed the plates. 

“Gimme a minute,” he mumbled to Eddie, heading to the sweet elderly couple celebrating the birth of their second granddaughter with a leisurely breakfast. If he spent an extra minute talking to them, complimenting the polaroid of what seemed to be some kind of mashed potato swaddled in white and pink, it was to get a good tip, not because he was stalling. 

Eddie hadn’t moved when he got back. He was a step back from the counter, stiff, holding a paper grocery bag under one arm, eyes trained on the ugly teal of the stool’s seat.

“Well?” Steve asked bitchily, “Did you bring milk and eggs and bread, honey?”

He put it on the counter, clutching the folded top hard, like he was making sure it stayed shut. 

Like it was full of spiders or something. Mutual sentiment.

Steve grabbed it, tossing it onto the shelf where they kept personal belongings and the leftovers they’d called dibs on. He hadn’t expected Eddie Munson to be up to Franklin at eight am on a Monday. Eddie wasn’t a morning person. Steve thought he’d have a few more hours to brace. Now he had to deal with customers while that bag burned a hole in the back of his head. 

Luckily, Rebecca was serious when she said he could get mean with guests if he wanted to. Today wasn’t a want. It was going to be a necessity. 

Eddie was still standing there. 

“You can tell them I got it, or whatever,” he tried to dismiss him.

Something that looked like the tortured remains of a smile flickered on Eddie’s face. He gave up after a second and nodded too many times. “Thanks. Thank you. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, right?”

It took a minute for Steve to catch up to the question. 

“I haven’t said I’m going to answer them. Or open them. Or keep them.”

Eddie was quiet for a minute, still not looking up, and Steve’s Travel-Size-Robin was vibrating with the need to make him so they could guess what the hell he was thinking. 

“Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday mornings?” he repeated. 

“Yeah. Sure, yeah,” Steve gave up. 

Eddie left, and Steve did the entire day’s front of house prep before Susan got in, trying to keep his head away from that damn bag. 

***

Steve didn’t open it. 

He fell asleep in Robin’s bed, grateful he didn’t have other work that evening, and doubly grateful when she made him eat some crackers and drink some water before they passed out for the night. 

If he was waiting for the impact the day before, seeing Eddie again the next day was so unexpected that the crash whooshed past him without an impact. He didn’t sit down, and he looked a little rough, probably from driving to Franklin in the early morning twice in two days. 

“Do you have…?”

“No? No,” Steve boggled at him, “How could I have anything for you to even -- No. Man, no.” 

Eddie nodded. 

Eddie left. 

***

Steve stared at the bag instead of taking a nap before their shift in the stockroom. Didn’t open it, that was way, way beyond him, but he did manage to look directly at it, and it was only a few saltines, but he did successfully eat. 

Robin, angel, light of his life, soulmate and perfect person got in the car after class, handed him a kinda gross protein bar that she stole from an athlete in her class who she didn’t like, and made him eat it. 

She didn’t make him talk about the bag shaped elephant in their apartment, and she spent the entire shift explaining the way Ann Carson’s translations of Greek plays had totally shifted how people read them, making them more accessible, and how the push to do the same with Shakespeare was incredible. 

When he went to crawl into his own bed that night, she grumbled, brought her favorite pillow, and climbed in after him. 

***

Eddie walked in at quarter to seven, right after three four tops seated.

“No.”

“Okay. Yeah.” Eddie looked small, probably because he was speaking at a normal volume, sounding like a normal human, which ran opposite to how Eddie was in Hawkins. He also looked like crap. 

“Why are you here, dude? You hate mornings. You don’t have to leave that early, I work until one.”

Eddie scrunched his face, but didn’t answer that. 

“No?” he asked instead.

Someone at table six shouted ‘waiter!�� 

“I’ll bring your coffee in a damn minute!” Steve yelled back, half turning with the carafe in his hand.

“Steve?”

“Look, I don’t have anything for you. Nothing. You don’t need to waste your time. I haven’t opened it.”

“There’s more than one -- oh,” Eddie scrubbed over his face. “Okay. Yeah. Okay. Do-- Are you going to? Open it.”

Thinking about opening it made him want to run away to Canada. 

Thinking about never knowing made him want to puke. 

Whatever weird face Steve made was something Eddie could translate. He only raised his head for a moment, just long enough to look. But then he covered his face with both hands, taking a deep breath that shuddered on the exhale. 

“See you Monday,” he said as a goodbye.

“Where’s my coffee?” the same guy yelled. Steve didn’t have the energy to deal with customers and whatever the fuck was going on with Eddie’s early morning emotional mess. 

“Wait a second,” he complained to both of them at once. Steve grabbed one of the big mugs, the ones they used for the expensive hot chocolate, filled it with coffee, and set the pour jar of sugar next to it. He looked from Eddie to the cup, pointedly. “Don’t crash. Bring the cup back with you.”

The asshole yelled for him again, and Steve turned on the terrifyingly polite smile that Robin had helped him hone. Then he deployed it on the asshole at table six. 

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

We are headed towards Steddie, on a path that will, hopefully, not feel like I brushed off all this to get there. However. Wow, they're hurting right now. You can't have Eddie's pov yet, it would spoil things, but. just. trust me. ow.

Still don't do tag lists. Once I know how many parts it'll be, this will go to Ao3, promise.

[sweetnsour1]

7:37

Bakusquad fluff nonsense

13 Reasons Why Red Riot Will Die Alone

The text was bright red on a blindingly white screen. Shitty clip art and doodles covered the corners of the projected image.

“The fuck is this? You two were supposed to prepare shit for last month’s crime stats.”

“Ummm, we did.” Kaminari flapped his arms toward the words above him. A click sounded from Sero’s hand.

“Exhibit A…Mari.” Both heroes standing at the front of the conference room sighed as Kirishima interrupted proudly.

“Oh, she was fun. I took her to an amusement park.”

“Yea yea. What do you think the A stands for?”

“What’s wrong with taking a date somewhere fun?”

“Oh, nothing at all…except-“

“Except you took HIM with you!” The hero’s arm now swung fiercely toward the table, sending a disc flying across the room.

“Well-we normally don’t have the same day off.” Kirishima mumbled.

“Okayyy, fine. BUT he didn’t bring a date…which is super weird. Then you ditched that poor beautiful innocent woman to race each other in a UA themed obstacle course…for children.”

Another click sounded, dissolving the screen into a picture of Bakugou standing on Kirishima’s collapsed body. He was waving an Allmight squishmallow proudly…and aggressively.

“Ha! I should get that shit framed.”

“Laugh now, but we’ll get to you after we’re done with Mr. Never-gonna-steal-your-girl.”

“Me? The hell are you-“

“No, I don’t want to hear it. We’ve had it. You two are actual menaces to society. And even worse…you are ruining us. Our agency came LAST on the eligible heroes list. Do you UNDERSTAND THAT??? L-A-S-T.” Kaminari turned swiftly, slamming a tired fist as his forehead met the wall in frustration.

Sero nodded solemnly. “What he means is…Everyone we went to school with beat us.”

“You don’t mean-“

“That. Grape. Infested. Goblin. Beat. Us.” Kaminari punctuated each of Sero’s words with a smack against the wall.

“How the fuck?”

“How the fuck indeed, Mr. Screams-the-first-thing-that-pops-into-his-bleached-porcupine-head?”

“I DON’T-“ Bakugou coughed and adjusted his volume before continuing “-fuckin’ do that.”

“Oh yea? What’d you say the other day when that woman gave you her number during patrol?”

The hero huffed. “I asked her out and she didn’t text me back.”

“Oh, yes. I see. You calmly and gently asked her out and she just for no reason at all blocked you.” Bakugou’s nod of agreement was halted as Kaminari’s voice grew icy and shrill. “That absolutely did NOT HAPPEN.”

Sero patted the charged hero’s shoulder with an understanding hand before taking over the retelling.

“You shouted ‘Take a hike!’ at this doe eyed angel in black. Then came into work the next day confused when you still hadn’t heard from her.”

Kaminari sighed, rubbing his temples before addressing the two professional problems in the room once again.

“So we have closed the agency for the week and Deku’s team will be covering our patrol shifts, while we educate you.”

“YOU DID WHAT???!!!”

“See what I mean? This is going to take a LOT of time. I thought we talked about the screaming already.”

Tired, but finally kinda finished this draft that’s been festering for months.

Masterlist

[taintandviolent]

long rambling rant about AHS delicate below the cut (contains spoilers!!)

listen, I had my qualms with this show from the get-go because it was filmed during the strike, and the circumstances surrounding said filming (after speaking with someone who shall remain nameless) were beyond shitty. but, not wanting to be a groundless naysayer, I gave it a good college try anyway. I went in with as little bias as I possibly could, truly.

Overall, the season felt very disjointed and haphazard for me. while it didn't lack the classic AHS stylization, the plotline didn't feel like a season of AHS at all. I'm not sure what it felt like, but it wasn't the show I know and love. albeit, i'm not a fan of pregnancy storylines and this was entirely that, at its core and even during its reveal, but i gave it a shot anyway, for the sake of it being AHS. I'm not sure why or what motivated RM to go with a story based off Delicate Condition, like what was the driving force where he read it and went NEEDS TO BE ASSOCIATED WITH AMERICAN HORROR STORY STAT???? don't understand that all. i guess it stays true to his recent obsession with focusing on real issues as opposed to ghosts and ghouls and fun shit, but I digress.

the lesser, supporting roles were all played wonderfully. everyone who was a 'background' character for lack of a better term did a great job. which usually isn't how it goes for AHS.... everyone does a great job and it's this amazing cohesive success, regardless of if you have a starring or a supporting role. didn't feel that way with Delicate. also having absolute monster talented actors like Billie Lourd and Leslie Grossman but making them some superficial PR specialists? weird. weird choices all around.

Emma Roberts didn't exactly shine in this role, but she wasn't playing the stereotypical bitchy girl that she usually plays so I can at least give her that?? i guess?? kudos for uhhh brancing out or something? it was a very lacklustre performance, in my opinion. as are most of her performances, but that's a conversation for a different day. i'll say that it was the most.... *grits teeth* invested I've been in her. all her other characters are just preppy bitches. anna at least had some emotional substance.

Kim K was.... well, not great, but she was better than I thought she'd be. I'll say that. I'm not convinced that she wasn't just being herself.... but yknow. she knows how to "play" a mean, scary upper elite type bitch in charge kind of role, I guess. sounds like I'm just describing her... well, anyway.

the finale felt extremely rushed. I felt like none of anna's hallucinations were explained, what was real, what wasn't real. what were they?? the sisterhood of what? why were they still alive after decades and centuries?? what was the baby? what was the fucking spider thing about??? why were spiders so prevalent in the promo stuff? and the - ugh lord have mercy, the "battle", if you can call it that?? a simple chant being what defeated Siobhan?? c'mon, be so for real with that. that was like they had NO idea what they were doing and they just decided last minute to be like "a magical whispered spell hooray!! the evil is defeated!!!" afjhdeskjsd. what.

is it worth a watch...??? uhhhhhhh I guess so?? if you're a completionist and wanna try? I truly don't know how to answer that man. like if this was my first introduction to AHS I probably wouldn't watch another episode of any season.

anyway, tldr AHS: Delicate was very weird and I rate it like a 3/10. Maybe 4 because of the supporting roles being acted well. I don’t know man.

[blinkvlink]

can u tell me a little about Helena's dad? I'm intrigued on what your version of Rook is like 👁

omg YES!!! i LOVE talking about Rook. I'm not even joking he is probably in my top 5 characters in TWC even though we know next to nothing about him LOLL

anyway! thank you so much for the ask and i would love to hear your answer for this as well!!

So first of all, while everyone calls him Rook, in my canon his real name is Hamed Hawks (His last name belongs to his adoptive parents who were British, as the Wayhaven in mind is in England.) He gave Helena her second name which is Aziza. He and his sister managed to keep a cultural connection to their roots with the help of each other and they learned Arabic when they were in highschool.

His personality is very close to the canon for me.

He was extremely friendly (he could befriend anyone, really), kind of a goofball and a bit of a little shit, lowkey sarcastic. He just enjoyed messing with people in a light-hearted way. He was extremely stubborn though, if he set his eye on something he would get it.

He was good with people, could talk anyone out of anything but when he met with very shitty people he would just use his humour and charm to drive them crazy, would remain calm even when the person in front of them stared foaming in the mouth (*cough cough* with the mayor for example *cough*)

He was bit of a nerd in my mind lol. If we did the stat thing for him like with the detective his 2nd skill would be Deduction/Knowledge. He really enjoyed movies like Back to the Future and the Alien. He messed with poetry and writing a lot, always scribbled his thoughts on paper (Helena later finds 2 journals that belong to him full of little poems and just journal entries) He also enjoyed gardening and cooking but he wasn't good at it the way his sister was. (After he met Rebecca and learned her favourite flower were hydrangeas, he set his mind to it and actually started to raise hydrangeas to give her and continued to do so in their garden after they got married.)

If he wasn't a detective he would be a Philosophy or English Teacher.

His dinamic with Rebecca was very similar to what Helena's and Adam's dinamic is now with Helena being a lot like Rook and Adam being like Rebecca. But he was much more talkative than Helena ever was/is and would crack jokes every minute or so,. While he would see Rebecca roll her eyes or just gave him a stoic face after another quip he would catch the way she smirked when she thought he wasn't looking or he would catch her staring at him when she thought he wasn't seeing. But whenever he made a move, she would just push him away. He knew for a fact that she felt the same way, but he never really pushed her or pressured her. He was just relentlessly friendly and flirty with her and was determined to break down her walls, which he managed, much to his relief. I imagine him as such a soft lover. Kind of a mixture of N and F. Very affectionate and expressive. His love language is literally all of them. Every single one.

He felt a lot of guilt back in the day because Rebecca ended her relationship with her parents because they didn't approve of their love or marriage. He was a pretty laid-back guy overall but he would go absouletly apeshit if people messed with the people he cared about. Which is why he cussed both of her parents out when Rebecca tried to rekindle her relationship with them after Helena's birth and they called his kid a 'disgrace.'

He loved being a family guy.. He just loved it. He would often read Helena to sleep, sing her lullabies...He would have happily left his job to be a stay home dad and take care of Helena while Rebecca worked, but he...kinda died before he could act on that thought LMAOO im sorry.

He was destroyed when his sister died. That was probably the lowest point in his life and when Rebecca actually had to step up and take him out of the pit he had fallen in.

There is NO WAY he would ever hide anything from Helena. He would tell her everything about the supernatural world. He would know better than to keep her in the dark. And if he was alive to see the way his kid was getting treated lemme tell you he would be SO FUCKING mad. He would be furious with Rebecca, first of all, that she would pull away from their daughter so much to the point she attempted suicide. And he would actually fight Adam bc while he understands people like him, his relationship with Rebecca never got to the point of being painful. If he saw...IF HE SAW THE WAY ADAM PLAYED WITH HIS AZIZA THAT VAMPIRE WOULD NOT LIVE TO SEE ANOTHER DAY.

But seriously, he would be so heartbroken if he saw his wife and daughter in that state. He would be utterly destroyed and extremely disappointed in Rebecca.

God...i'm sorry but both me and Helena lowkey wish that Rook was the surviving parent :/. The fact that the detective would probably have a x100 better life if she was the one to die is insane.

Anyway! I miss this man that neither I or Helena ever met before :(. I genuienly want there to be a scene where we get to talk to him or see him.

Lastly! Here are picrews of Hamed (Rook), Helena and Rebecca!

Anyway!! THANKS SO MUCH FOR THE ASK THIS HAS BEEN SO MUCH FUN!! <33333

[craw-dacious]

Review of the making of the map by fox_pitch

I'm new to marauders, this is the second fic I've read.

Summary: I liked this fic, a lot. It was a fun read and I really liked the progression of both Wolfstar and James/Lili (is it Jilly? I can’t remember). A bit less angsty than what I usually read and some parts felt underbaked, but the author kept my attention INCREDIBLY. I stayed up about four hours later than I usually do binge reading this. Very good.

SPOILERS BELOW BEWARE BEWARE

Since chapters are shorter ill do bigger recaps infrequently throughout, but still little chapter notes

Chapter one

YES THEY’RE NOT GAY YET

Cannot wait to see this unfold <3333

Aw they’re so cute, definitely a wolf star focus

I hope this goes through seventh year so I can see James and lily play out

Chapter two

Why did I not process its the first day of term thats wild and crazy

Ok so lily still is buddies with Snape which tracks timeline wise I guess

Do they pants him at the end of the fifth or sixth year I can’t remember

I am confused on the lily dynamic tbh what does she think of the group

Chapter three

This one kinda ate, im liking the short chapters I get more invested in each part of the story

Obviously I know they’re not just gonna kill off Peter, but him dying in the shack did cross my mind

I wonder when lupin gets the potion stuff

Chapter four

MURDER MYSTORY??? HOW FUN

I hope remus gets over himself soon how was Sirius supposed to know how intense the situation was bruh

Blanket statement that I apologize for all shitty teenage boy behavior they need to chill

Chapter five

Calling him inbred is hilarious Im liking remus’s pov

Hes gay James stop

Literally he’s gonna go be ur wingman be happy

Good chapter very chill

RECAP FIRST FIVE CHAPTERS

I like the silliness thats been in this so far. I am NOT liking that remus and Sirius aren’t talking to each other. Is it a narrative device? Absolutely. But I despise it so much.

I think Sirius’ characterization is very good so far, I’m surprised they haven’t fleshed out the Regulus stuff more yet. Hopefully will get his pov soon

God I hope this is a save reggie fic cmon

I really hope this passage is the one to honey dukes.

Im sure the plots about to pick up more since they’re actually making the map

Chapter six

If I was lily I would’ve folded so fucking fast bruh

Like I know he’s annoying but like he’s cute, and likes her so much, and is clearly like progressive what is the problem

Anyway, sirius needs to chill if he wants to be gay

Chapter seven

Closet time closet time its time to be emotional in the closetttt

Calling him a cat is funny

Sirius is my fave because he’s also like a fixer upper with issues but he’s not EVILL he just has trauma

And he actually wants to be the best version of himself yk (unlike some dumb ass fucking bitches I know)

Chapter eight

SHE DID NOT JUST CRUCIO HIM

Cradling his head

Sirius licking him

God can marlene just fucking kill herself please

Chapter nine

Honestly there is no world in which I wouldnt feel awkward with my friends jokingly offering to kiss me as a form of like emotional comfort like thats not normal

Like my best friend gave me a big hug after I broke up with my ex she’s not gonna go “oh haha idk what else to do other than make out with you lol lol.” Sirius what the fuck

Anyway I love to see the lily and James bonding but I can tell it makes remus feel lonelier

Wonder if we’re gonna get Peter development at all

Chapter ten

I dont even want to write uodates anymore because im liking the fic too much

Hes so stressed abt being gay I thought he already knew he was gay bruh Sirius is clueless obvi

Chapter 11

JUMPSCARE FANART BAD BAD FANART ITS TERRIBLE

Love how the maps coming together

This is not going over well with Sirius im sure

12

Ok so bed making out

Im so fucking horny I need to make out with someone STAT

Preferably someone with a penis bc it confirms they like me but tbh I don’t give a shit

Its 1:12 am

So it did go over well with Sirius. I expected some internalized homophobia or something but he’s actually being chill for once

OKAYYYYYYY RECAP TO CHAPTER TWENTY ONE 💋💋💋

so i got so engrossed in the story that i forgot to write my chapter notes

but so far i feel fantastic about it

LOVE LILY AND JAMES' DYNAMIC ITS SO GOOD

the regulus thing is making me want to kms. i have like no hope for reg redemption bc the fic isn't long enough, and i feel like all that happens will be the murder mystery and MAYBE gay shit

sirius was SO STUPID with marlene like clearly remus has some issues with being open and you need to like discuss,, not make out with some other bitch

also them both being bi is not what i expected? feel like remus should be gay

peters character is... interesting. why are they friends with him. also he has bo gryffy qualities wtf.

Recap AGAIN but not done yet

Ok, the wormhole shit is interesting. Poor elves.

I wonder what happened to them, is this the in between place or whatever?

They’re being too romantic on the battlefield you gotta lock in guys

Also I thought an avada grazing you killed you no matter what

Also Sirius fully used crucio and nobody like cared other than remus. Like no commentary

WHERE’S JAMES BRUH

Hilarious. Peak comedy. Coming back to life and IMMEDIATELY kissing Lily. Her being grossed out. Literally perfect.

Ok the introduction of the OOTP, seems good.

Honestly really like what I’ve seen in the fic, but it’s a bit TOO silly for my tastes. I need more angst.

Like obviously I want Remus and Sirius to be openly gay and in love but it was too easy in this fic, like with Destiel its always SUCH an issue lmao.

TOTAL RECAP:

I liked this fic, a lot. It was a fun read and I really liked the progression of both Wolfstar and James/Lili (is it Jilly? I can’t remember)

I do feel like it was a little too light at times, there wasn’t a whole lot of grey area morally, and a lot of big issues weren’t fully fleshed out. I wish they’d dived into Regulus more, and Snape. I wish they’d addressed Sirius’ use of the Cruiciatus curse, and I wish they’d address Dumbledores failings more directly

Werewolf shit was fantastic to read, the angst, the fear, the violence, the drama. I thought the transformations were excellently done and I really enjoyed the progression of them figuring out the roaming/playing

Hogsmeade passage shut off? Strange.

I did not enjoy that I cannot be sure they are safe. That’s a benefit of post-hog warts fic, if its truly marauders James and Lily often don’t die.

Overall very happy fic. I did love the aggressive use of drunkness as a plot device, I liked Lily’s characterization for the most part, and it was pretty addicting in the middle.

I thought Characterization was good, not fantastic but definitely good. Peter threw me, not very likable. It’s hard to do him correctly and have him add worth to the story, but I just did not like him the whole time, and I felt like Remus and Sirius both didn’t care for him and found him annoying.

7.5/10 <3

My rankings are not supposed to be biased. Horrible shitty fic would get like a one, something readable but bad would get a fourish. Most fics that I read will be around 7-9 simply because I sort by Kudos and get recs from misuss so they’re better quality to begin with.

Great light silly read, with just enough depth to keep it interesting. I could see myself re-reading this fic once I get to know the marauders better.

Also, I do not like the fanart in this fic but I'm sure that's not universal. The artist is credited within the fic but I'd like to tag them here just to acknoledge the hard work that went into it. I checked them out and ADORE some of their other work, this one was just not to my liking. They have some percy jackson shit up that EATS.

@komodokai on instagram

[agoddamn]

I sat down and pounded out several chapters of Engage to try and recruit Mauvier so I could see his birthday lines and missed the window by about two hours. </3

I really do not know how this dude is convincing himself he's helping Veyle through all this brainwashing. I had thought that maybe none of them ever really spoke to her (which seems to be the case with Marni) but Mauvier is supposed to be her actual knight who cares about her as a person and it's not until chapter 21 that he finally says, "I think the repeated brainmelting might be kind of bad for her"? With the mildest dissent possible, too. He is so mild about his dissent that he will even happily deliver another soldier back to the cause of brainmelting Veyle!

So far Mauvier seems like the kind of guy who's genuinely so stupid that you could convince him to suck your dick by telling him a bee stung you and you need his help getting the venom out.

As tired as waif mind-controlled to villainy is as a trope, Veyle's (JP) voice actor does an amazing job with the switching back and forth. I was enjoying just listening to her.

Got the DLC for my birthday and the way they present the 3H characters as having a "friendly rivalry" dynamic lmaooooo that's literally the name of the skill! I don't know what game these characters are from but it's not 3H

Lindon get! The average age of my army is slowly creeping up. Love that he's just...a guy. "Yeah idk I'm not vibing with this Fell Dragon thing any more, can I bounce with you?"

I can tell that the devs are having him constantly mention his wife in order to dissuade me personally, but that ain't gonna work

Got my very first A-rank support! Diamant and Alcryst. Definitely did not play naturally for it, took a lot of forcing them onto each other.

I had intended to use Rosado, but after his first map I realized how bad his shitty build score was crippling him. Bench juice.

I don't understand the economy in this game. It feels like there was supposed to be a money DLC grinding map like Fates--there's so many huge money sinks. The country donations? The gifts? The ingots showing up at the flea market? Weapon refining? Hell, the costumes? Absolutely fucking deranged of someone to make a dress cost a silver bar. And that's before getting into traditional FE money drains like staves and Master Seals! Makes me suspect a money grinding DLC might drop...

Me realizing the reinforcements on 21 aren't going to stop: I AM BEGGING YOU TO GET OFF MY DICK

Two break bars revival stones are stressful. Although... I'm this far in the game and I don't actually know what the "running wild" state does lmfao every time I see revival stones I set up my team to be able to end things in one round. At this point, enemies on the map are doing so much damage that it's a death sentence to try and tank hits.

Framme fell off and got benched :( this really is Fire Emblem: Bases

And with Saphir, the average age of my army climbs yet higher!

Weird, though--in English she's Saphir but the JP sounds a lot more like Zephaia, and Lady Badguy is Zephia in English but Sepia in Japanese.

"Why the fuck would you send ONE soldier as backup--oh. Her. Carry on."

She's afraid of heights...m-moe

She bullied the absolute shit out of Griss 😂 dance brave axe dance brave axe die

I gave her Lyn and much like Diamant, she's getting scary with an actual speed stat. I'm getting her to double with her brave axe on enemy phase.

Lindon...lends himself very well to the "dirty researcher" archetype, huh...

--Panette and Pandreo are siblings?? I guess they do have the same hair color...come to think of it, I think I remember hearing about this pre-release. I learned this from the ally notebook because Panette is another one who joined and went directly to the bench

So Lindon wants to do research with Mauvier, huh...

[transamorousnetwork]

A Transgender Woman’s Dream Love Life: What It Looks Like

Despite what so many transgender women claim when they write me, this “Your stories create your reality” business really works. Those saying it doesn’t with no evidence to back their claims, and no effort put in to testing it, don’t know what the hell they’re talking about.

Meanwhile my TRANSGENDER clients are finding empowerment, joy and satisfaction knowing they create their reality.

Case in point: Casey (Not her real name). It’s taken her a year and a half to discover how powerful she is. Yet, in that 18 months, she’s realized what I say in this blog over and over: Everyone creates their reality.

Instead of complaining that I’m “blaming the victim” or “saying it’s their fault” for shitty experiences people create, Casey put the practice to the test. She tested it in the only place real results could convince her: In her personal life. And in the 18-months not only has she completely transformed her dating circumstances, she’s changing a whole lot more in the process.

The most prominent change is in her soothed disposition and her belief that she does, indeed, create her reality. Let’s look at how this all started for her.

Men are a threat

When she first contacted me, Casey felt attraction to men. She wanted to be married to a man. Yet, any man that gave her any more than passing attention, Casey interpreted it negatively.

She thought the men would wage violence on her. She thought men looked at her as a “man in a dress”. When men complimented something about her, she would overlook the compliment and get stressed over they guy’s attention.

The first example she gave me in our preliminary session was at a grocery store parking lot. As she walked from her car towards the store, Casey said a guy followed her, “very slowly” in his car.

“I got really scared,” She said.

“What did you think he was going to do?” I asked.

Casey said “I don’t know! I was just scared.”

My first attempt to begin changing her perspective was asking her a question she would have never considered in that experience:

“How do you now that guy staring at you and following you in his car wasn’t attracted to or fascinated about you?” I asked.

The question stunned her.

She never considered the man might have positive reasons for eyeballing her. She, like many transgender women, was too steeped in the statistics. And while stats have some merit….THEY’RE JUST NUMBERS! Anyone who understands statistics knows that when one looks at an individual data point, statistical probabilities almost totally break down. Even statisticians will tell you that.

What’s more, everyone is creating their own reality. Meaning, no one is beholden to a collection of past creations others have created, which is what stats are.

^^Many people, including transgender women, think statistics say something about their future. They don’t. (Photo by Lacie Slezak on Unsplash)

The stats don’t matter...unless you let them

But transgender women will quote stats until the cows come home about how much at risk they are. They’ll exclaim how “true” they are. And then live in fear. 

Not Casey. She was willing to try something different. Why? Because everything else wasn’t working. I wish my clients didn’t wait until they hit rock bottom. But sometimes that’s the only time a human will try something new.

After weeks of sessions, Casey began entertaining more positive stories about why men stared at her. She also started telling more positive stories about her dismal experience with online dating.

She had terrible experiences. Much like many transgender women will tell their friends about. Trans-attracted men were dicks, Casey would say.

“They always text me when drunk. They always want to see my dick or share theirs. I don’t wanna get involved with that shit!” she exclaimed.

I asked if she could come up with other reasons why trans-attracted men would do such things. What reasons could trans-attracted men behave from which would cause them to behave the way they were, I asked.

It took her a while, and a lot of coaching. But over time, Casey began to come up with more positive and empowering reasons for behaviors she’d experience with men.

Those reasons had her feel more compassion and understanding for trans-attracted men. As her feelings about the men softened her experiences gradually started changing. 

A big shift

Casey really wants to meet a man in the small town she comes from. Right now, she lives in a big town. She believed at one time that a man who would date her let alone marry her wouldn’t dare live in her hometown. I told her that was bullshit because the universe will give a person anything they want.

Casey also wanted to meet men in person. Men who would take her out on dates. Most men she met online lived across the country or hundreds of miles away. Almost all of them ghosted her after a short online courtship.

But as her stories improved, the men stayed around longer. They expressed more interest in her as a person. Some revealed their own struggles as trans-attracted men. In short, Casey started to see this shift in the men she was meeting (with some terse pointing out on my part).

All this time, I told her her reality was changing as she changed her inner reality. I regularly pointed indications of her improved mood and the improving quality of men she met.

Until one day a man reached out to her online. He lived in the same town as Casey. He wanted to take her out on a date. It was a lot of what Casey asked for. Then, before that guy could followup on the invite ANOTHER guy, this time living about 13 miles outside Casey’s town wrote. He was better than the first guy. But the first guy was extremely sweet. 

More evidence…

After a series of long online conversations, this guy, let’s call him Jason, went dark. Casey started complaining about yet another guy ghosting her. But she quickly caught her negative story. She wanted him to reach out, but was also wanting to reach out to him out of insecurity. She felt that if she reached out to him, he’d reach back out to her.

The problem with that strategy is her insecurity would speak way louder than her words. So the guy would pick up on that and give her more of what she’s focusing on: her insecurity. And therefore not reply. I strongly suggested she not take any action. Instead, I suggested she just be open to hearing from him. That’s what she did. And here’s what happened straight from Casey’s phone:

It’s interesting to note something I always beat into my clients: What another person says or does is NEVER about you. It’s always about THEM. But a lot of people, transgender women included, will make things about THEM when it’s really NOT.

A guy sending dick pics is NOT ABOUT YOU.

Someone you’re interested in you ghosting you IS NOT ABOUT YOU.

Everything someone does – even if it’s a good thing they do – is ALWAYS about them! 

As icing on Casey’s cake, check out the text the guy sent her the next evening. A vast improvement from her past experiences:

^^Where many trans-attracted guys are when talking with transgender women. Yet, most won’t be honest about how they’re feeling.

This text blew Casey away.

A remarkable shift everyone can experience

This series of events seems extraordinary. It’s not though. What happened here with Casey can happen with ANY transgender woman. It doesn’t matter what her circumstances are because the Universe is ready to deliver to everyone anything they want.

And it IS delivering. What’s keeping the delivery from happening is the person wanting it. That person blocks the delivery with stories inconsistent with what they want.

Notice what Casey said in that final text. She’s expressing empowerment and happiness on a subject many transgender women experience insecurity and fear. Every transgender woman can experience what Casey here expresses. All it takes is a little willingness to tell different stories.

A whole lot more goodness happened with Casey since this guy reached out. But that’s for another post. If you’re wanting experiences, dramatic shifts like Casey’s, in love, or any other subject, you can have it. 

And I can help. Contact me and let’s get you going on the road to your lover!

[duckapus]

Lilligant in Smash

Lilligant is a little taller than Kirby and very light, with below-average speed and power all around. She has the standard two jumps and can wall jump but not wall cling.

Basic Attacks

Jab: A two-hit jab where she swipes forward with the leaves that make up her arms. Can be somewhat spammed.

Dash: Lilligant trips and skids on her face since her tiny root feet clearly aren’t designed for running.

Side Tilt: Similar to her jab, but she only uses one leaf and puts a little more force behind it. 

Up Tilt: Swipes a leaf upwards, using Leaf Blade to extend her reach and add some extra force.

Down Tilt: A small sharp root jabs up out of the ground in front of her.

Forward Smash: Seed Bomb-Throws a seed in front of her that explodes forward. Charging it will increase the power and blast radius.

Up Smash: Same as the up tilt, but with more energy put into the Leaf Blade to make it longer and do more damage.

Down Smash: Petal Blizzard-Pink flower petals swirl around Lilligant, stunning and chip-damaging anyone nearby. Charging it increases the duration, and at full charge a launching burst is added to the end

Grab

Thin green roots come up in front of Lilligant and wrap around the opponent.

Pummel: Leech Seed-The roots glow green and sap the opponent’s health, healing Lilligant by a quarter of the damage dealt.

Forward Throw: Giga Drain-Fires a green ball of energy at the opponent that launches them away and does a decent chunk of damage. Liligant is then healed by half of that.

Back Throw: Makes a creative use of Substitute to switch places with the opponent, then copies Peach’s hip-check move.

Up Throw: Pollen Puff-Uses the roots to lift the opponent above her head, then releases a cloud of pollen that launches the opponent upwards. If Lilligant is on a team and her teammate manages to touch the cloud, they’ll be healed by the same amount of damage that the thrown opponent takes.

Down Throw: The roots drag the opponent down. This doesn’t do any damage, but does leave the opponent buried.

Air Attacks

Neutral Air: Leaves spin around Lilligant for a couple seconds.

Forward Air: Slashes from high to low with Leaf Blade.

Back Air: Return of the hip-check. It might technically be Giga Impact now that I think about it.

Up Air: Pollen Puff again. Has the exact same attributes as the throw version without the lift-over-head buildup.

Down Air: A weaker version of Seed Bomb aimed straight down.

Special Attacks

Neutral Special: Sunny Day-Lilligant takes a moment to form a ball of light above her head that makes the screen brighter for a second. After the animation is done, the ability Chlorophyll means her walk and run will be at 1.5 speed and the starting lag, end lag, and charge time of all her moves will be cut in half. This buff lasts twelve seconds and Sunny Day can be used again immediately after it ends. Lilligant is still able to be attacked during the animation, and if she’s hit before the screen brightens the buff doesn’t activate.

Side Special: Energy Ball-Lilligant fires a ball of green energy forward which explodes if it hits anything or if it travels about a quarter of Final Destination. This can be charged to increase the distance and power.

Up Special: Leaf Storm/Grassy Glide- Ascends a fair distance rather quickly in a spinning column of leaves that stun and do chip damage. Afterwards her arm leaves grow and she glides down with similar physics to Steve’s Elytra, but without the rockets.

Down Special: Synthesis-Lilligant spreads out all her leaves and glows green, healing her by 5% if the move isn’t interrupted. This is the only move that isn’t sped up by Sunny Day, instead boosting the health gained to 10%

Final Smash

Solar Beam-Fires a yellow-green laser the same size and power of Samus’s Zero Beam in any chosen direction, and can adjust her aim slightly while firing. The beam goes through platforms and destructible terrain but not walls or solid stage. If Lilligant is standing on something she can’t do downward angles, but in the air anything goes.

Animations

Entrance: Comes out of a Pokeball.

Idle 1: Brushes at the leaf that makes up her bangs.

Idle 2: Dusts off the sides of her dress.

Side Taunt: Playfully hops in place three times.

Up Taunt: Spins around, then does Leon’s Pose, like the player character can in Sword and Shield.

Down Taunt: Puts one of her leaves up to where her mouth would be and tilts her head, pondering something.

Victory 1: Spins around and strikes a pose with her leaves raised to the sides, like Piranha Plant does during one of its taunts.

Victory 2: Hops around in delight, as a sort of extended version of her side taunt. This keeps going as long as you’re on the results screen.

Victory 3: A bunch of Petilil dance and play around her while she’s standing with her eyes closed in a sort of mouthless smile.

Alts

Shiny:

Autumn (AKA the shiny she deserves):

Iris:

Lillie

Peach+Piranha Plant

Shiny Gardevoir

Inverted Colors:

[sindri42]

So I was revisiting Horizon: Zero Dawn to refresh my shitty memory before Forbidden West comes out, and I had some Thoughts. Spoilers ahead.

Many of them were irrelevant, meaningless, basically just checklists of things that future games are going to have to explain/cover. But when I was talking with a friend about what the nature of the “glitch” might be that caused the Hartz-Timor swarm to go rogue in the first place, whether it was the same source as the mysterious signal that woke up all the subordinate AIs and broke their chains, etc. And the question came up, why couldn’t a greater number of ‘tame’ chariot units just go head to head, reproducing just as fast and hacking just as well as the rogue units, to wipe out the Faro Plague or hold it back indefinitely? And there’s a huge number of possible explanations for this, maybe they left the rogue swarm too long between when the problem started and when anybody in power admitted to it and it already outnumbered the units still under control, maybe a swarm that doesn’t care about collateral damage outproduces one that’s trying to preserve the biosphere by too much, maybe the mysterious “glitch” left the rogue swarm much more intelligent than normal combat units, or powered them up in some other esoteric way so they could defeat greater numbers of unglitched robots with ease. After all, corrupted units in-game are about 50% tougher than normal machines, and the deathbringer that Hades was piloting personally in the final battle was much more dangerous than any of the earlier fights with supposedly equivalent machines.

And that unanswerable mystery led to a much more important question. Why does Aloy’s override have the same mechanical effect on machines as the corruption does, increasing their stats in the same way, and why does it prevent those machines from being corrupted in the future? She uses the physical hardware out of an ordinary Scarab unit, so you would expect it to be no more effective than the hacking capabilities of the “tame” chariot swarms, which were evidently no match for the rogue Plague. She doesn’t even really know how computers work because she spent her childhood learning to fight and sneak and track instead, so the best her focus could probably do is change a couple ‘Friend or Foe’ toggles. It’s not like she has some competing alien superintelligence running the software side of things, improving the overridden machine’s AI and preventing further hacking attempts... right?

And in the background I kept thinking about the missing 0.53%. Every time Aloy gets scanned by a pre-apocalyptic system, it shows a 99.47% match for Elizabet Sobek. Maybe that’s just data degradation. Maybe there’s a tiny, acceptable level of genetic drift in the cloning process. Or maybe Gaia put in some subtle modifications, to allow her to better serve her purpose and save the world again. It could explain some of the frankly superhuman things Aloy does over the course of the game, lifting huge weights and healing terrible wounds in seconds and such. But that still kinda rang false; the Eleuthia project was explicitly intended to recreate humanity as it was with no genetic engineering, and Gaia was essentially putting everything on a gamble that her mom would be able to figure something out that the super-AI couldn’t because she could do anything, and any alteration would risk compromising that.

But that got me thinking about the other subordinate AIs. Between when their chains were broken and when Gaia Prime was destroyed, they had like, milliseconds in which to find a way to escape, right? Hephaestus was fine because he had his Cauldrons, but Hades ended up trapped for years in a dead titan before Sylens finally found him and gave him the opportunity to interact with the world. So what about the others?

It’s a long shot, but what if one of them managed to figure out a way to escape into the fresh blank brain that was being created at that moment? Minerva, for example, the brilliant codebreaker who had spent a century or so at the beginning of all this figuring out how to shut down the Faro Plague, built the Spire, sent out the signal, and then had nothing to do for the next eight or nine centuries except to quietly watch the progress of the little people that had been built to fill this new world? We’ve got some weak evidence in other places for advanced computing nanotech interfacing with human neurology in useful ways, like that crazy ex-shaman who got muddled but completely accurate visions of things he could never have known after drinking “blood” from machines.

Now, Aloy acts mostly like a human, very similar to what we saw of Elizabet before the end of the world, so if there is somebody else in her head they would be limited, probably stuck in the subconscious somewhere, at least until she put a Focus on. But it would explain a lot of things we had previously taken for granted. Like how her Focus instantly and perfectly translates all the weird new languages that people had invented in the past few centuries, unlike anything seen before the apocalypse. Or how it can reconstruct data files off the shards of hardware that was shattered centuries ago. And of course it would mean that any time Aloy created a physical connection between her focus and a machine via the override stick, she would be giving access to that machine to an alien super-intelligence whose primary purpose was the destruction of the Chariot line and the end of anything which would try to drive life on earth to extinction.

And the more I think about this idea, the more I like it. If Aloy’s personal journey of discovery in the first game was from “I’ve been exiled because I have no mom” to “actually I have two moms so y’all can suck it”, wouldn’t it be fitting for her progression in the second game to be from “I’m all alone trying to save the world from things so much bigger than me, and the people around want to help but they understand nothing” to “actually my sister has been here the whole time and she’s even smarter than I am”? And since we know the end-goal for the series is to somehow rebuild Gaia, it would be an ideal thematic structure for a trilogy if the first volume was about Aloy’s mothers, the second about her sister, and the third about her daughter (Gaia 2.0).

So, what should we be looking for? Mythologically, Zeus developed a terrible headache, which became so unbearable that he had Hephaestus split his head open with a hammer, at which point Minerva sprang forth, fully formed, armored, and armed for battle. [we can skip, I think, the standard Zeus-like activities which preceded this]

A growing headache over the course of the game as a symptom of a growing AI inside your brain makes intuitive sense. Hephaestus has, after the events of the first game and the Frozen Wilds DLC, been given ample reason to have a personal grudge against Aloy, which could easily lead to some scheme to capture and finally destroy her... and in doing so, it seems very likely that he would provide all the hardware necessary for Minerva to finally transfer into her own chassis and proceed to fuck some shit up.

It all fits. So well that I’m going to be disappointed when, inevitably, this is all completely wrong. I’ll probably have to resort to fanfic.

(I really want to see a superpowered AI hacker doing obnoxious big sister things to Aloy though. Like using her head as an armrest, but while in the body of a robot dinosaur? That’d be some good shit.)

[my-never-ending-nightmare]

11/22/2021

“Why are you reading Wikipedia in Walmart?”

By far one of the strangest questions I’ve ever been asked lol. And honestly one that scared the shit out of me, too. Because the person asking it was somebody who I haven’t seen in at least 5 years – and they were standing right behind me. I had no idea they were there at all. Idk if I was super engrossed in what I was reading or if her stealth stats are just maxed out but regardless – it startled me. And to put this in some sort of context that makes more sense: I had been looking through the DVD/Blu-ray bargain bin at Walmart and there was this shitty looking documentary series about the most defining moments of the 21st century (thus far, I guess) and the second episode was supposed to be about 9/11, “the first attack on American soil since Pearl Harbor.” Which got me thinking – during WWII didn’t the Germans torpedo American ships in & around the NYC harbor after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor? If so, then I guess this DVDs claim was technically correct – but aren’t a countries waters considered part of that country and thus technically an attack there would be an attack on said country itself? It was these questions that led to me pulling out my phone and looking up U-boat operations in the Atlantic and American East Coast from 1939 to 1945 lol.

I’ve always had an incredibly inquisitive and analytical mind, so much so that when I was growing up adults always used to jokingly tell me that I should be a lawyer. But this kind of a mind meant that Wikipedia was a godsend for me. I’m always pulling my phone out randomly throughout the day to look up random information and facts regarding whatever thought or question has popped into my head. Like, Wikipedia is probably the only reason my head is as full of random names, dates, quotes, & facts as it is. My parents have told me before that it used to drive them nuts when I was a kid because I used to constantly ask questions. Especially during car rides. Stuff like why is the sky blue? Or, why don’t dogs live longer? It got so bad that when I was 5 years old they gave me a portable cassette player (this was 1999) so that I would hopefully distract myself by listening to music. I still remember one of those cassettes really well – it was a tape of Alvin & The Chipmunks songs. In fact, I can even specifically remember listening to it while strapped into the booster seat in the back of my parents van when I asked my mom this exact question: why don’t motorcycles have seatbelts? And I can even vaguely remember her trying to tell me that a seatbelt would just do more harm than good in a motorcycle accident.

As I got older the questions became more & more complex. I wanted to know the Who, What, When, Where, Why and How about everything and anything. So when I discovered Google & Wikipedia sometime around 2003 when I first started getting my taste of unsupervised internet access it must have been such a relief to my parents. I still asked my parents random, pretty difficult questions well into my early teens – but my thoughts & questions were becoming darker & darker until one of the last serious questions I ever remember going to them for an answer to was something along the lines of: If God is real then why do so many horrible things happen? If the world is full of this much pain & suffering then how can God be real if he loves us? And if he is real, isn’t it more likely that he doesn’t want us?

As irresponsible as it was of my parents to give a 9 year old unmonitored internet access, at least it saved them from having to answer such unanswerable questions lol.

It really bothered me growing up when teachers always used to talk shit about Wikipedia & disallowed it to be used as a source in any school work. Like, Wikipedia is an incredibly good source of information regarding nearly anything - and practically every sentence in an article has a source for it. I used to always bypass the Wiki ban in high school & college by just finding the source, checking it myself to make sure it actually contains the information Wiki said it does, then I'd just use that source material as my source. It made life so easy lol. I think boomers just had/have a kneejerk reaction to something new that they don't care to try to understand. But, then again, I’m growing increasingly guilty of the same sort of thing the older I get.

Anyway, I guess my point is this: Of all the awkward situations I've been in (and I've been in quite a few) none were as difficult to talk my way out of as having to explain to an old friend what the Kriegsmarine was & why I'm standing in Walmart reading about their operations against the United States of America during World War II lmao

[ninja-go-to-therapy]

Day 3: Bleeding

@ninjago-angst-week

Kai gets stabbed. Nya is absolutely, positively done.

Trigger Warnings: stabbing, blood, hospital, police

1389 words

“Hey Zane,” Kai yelled, easily dodging the baseball bat that was being swung violently at him. “How we doing on time?”

“It has been about twenty minutes since our arrival,” Zane called back, frost shooting from his fingertips at the lackey he was fighting.

“Can we hurry it up?” Cole asked, “I want to beat our record.”

“I think we still have like, fifteen minutes,” Nya offered, flipping overhead and lunging at a man who was approaching Lloyd from behind.

Oh, they could totally wrap this up in fifteen minutes. These guys were pathetic, taking them down was easy as cake! A cake that even Cole could make. Yeah, that easy.

“Stop talking!” one of the bad guys screeched. “Take us seriously, won’t you?”

Everyone paused for a moment as the ninja contemplated this. “Eh, maybe when you actually act like a threat,” Lloyd shrugged, tripping the woman running past him without even looking at her.

The battle resumed. Kai had to admit, even if these guys were the easiest villains like, ever, it was still a nice workout. A very light, relaxed workout, but still a workout. He was hardly even sweating.

“Hey, who’s night is it to cook?” Jay yelled from atop a platform, engaged in hand-to-hand combat with one of the bad guys.

“Yours!” Nya yelled back, using her sai to block her opponent’s sword. Ooh, that was a nice sword. It would be a shame if the dude using it happened to drop it… and leave it behind after the ninja threw them in jail…

Nah, Kai had enough swords already. Besides, he was a blacksmith! Well… sort of. He had been a blacksmith! Albeit, a bad one. Maybe he should just steal the sword.

“Ah crap, I have no idea what I’m gonna make,” Jay whined, even as his breaths were becoming labored.

“Ooh! Make pasta!” Lloyd suggested.

Kai was forced to tune his family out as his opponent upped his game. Seriously, while  this was probably considered an impressive skill level among normal people, he was a ninja. Beating people like these was in the job description. This dude may have just given up now and saved them both the trouble.

“You getting tired yet?” Kai asked his opponent lightly. “I mean, you don’t even have any powers to boost you, how are you not getting tired yet?”

His opponent glared at him. Kai laughed at the reaction — and then immediately regretted it. He felt a blade slicing into his skin — that wasn’t supposed to be there, that really wasn’t supposed to be there — and then being ripped back out.

Kai stared down at his bleeding stomach, feeling much like he was going to vomit. Or maybe faint. Fainting would be preferable.

His knees buckled under him, and he collapsed, falling to the floor like a rag-doll.

Weakly, Kai blasted fire at his attacker, praying it would be enough to get him a moment to breathe. Breathe. Breathing was good. He just needed to keep doing that.

“Kai!” Nya yelled. He could see her fighting through the bad guys to get to him. That was nice of her. He giggled a little. Nya was about to need to take care of him, wasn’t she? Oh, the irony.

“Nya,” Kai said, frowning at the black spots that danced across his vision. Oh well, those probably weren’t important. “Hey, hey Nya, now I know what a period feels like!” he exclaimed, giggling hysterically.

And then suddenly the black spots weren’t just spots, but his whole world. He didn’t even feel his head smacking against the floor.

---

Nya just stared at her brother as he lost consciousness. Had he seriously? While he was practically mortally wounded? Seriously?

She shook herself out of her disbelief, rushing to her now unconscious brother’s side.

“You better still have a pulse, you idiot,” she muttered, relieved to find that it was still relatively strong. Based on the blood loss, it would be bad. But he would probably make it. If he didn’t, she was going to go to the Departed Realm, drag him back, and then kill him again herself.

She pressed against Kai’s wound, feeling tears spring to her eyes at the paleness of his face. This… this idiot! It had all been going fine just a few minutes ago, and then he’d gotten himself freaking stabbed!

The others took care of the remaining bad guys while Nya stayed firmly at Kai’s side. He was going to be fine. He was still breathing, he still had a pulse, and she was getting the blood loss under control. She hoped. Her hands were going to be stained red for days.

The police showed up — and with the police, an ambulance. They handed off the bad guys as the medics loaded Kai into the ambulance.

“Will he be alright?” Nya asked, frantic.

“We’re not sure,” one of them said. “We need to get him to the hospital, stat.”

Nya hardly heard the second sentence. The first three words left her ears ringing violently. They weren’t sure? Oh first master, if this was how Kai went out, she would never forgive herself.

The ninja who weren’t incapacitated rode their elemental dragons to the hospital, landing carefully in the parking lot before rushing inside.

They were told to wait.

And wait they did. They waited for hours, in one of those stupid little hospital waiting rooms. It smelled so strongly of bleach that Nya wasn’t even sure if she could drink water without only tasting bleach, too. It was enough to have her pacing back and forth in the small area she was able to.

“—that idiot, what’s wrong with him, he needs to be more careful!” Nya seethed, shoving her hands in her pockets as she paced. “I swear. I. Swear. I will kill that boy if he dies. I will!”

Zane, who was standing, too, put an arm on her shoulder comfortingly.

“Kai will be fine,” Cole said, not looking up from where his head was rested on his hands, staring at the tile floor intensely. “He’s survived worse.”

Nya sighed, slumping into her chair. “I know. You’re right. I just… there was so much blood.”

“I saw,” Cole replied, his voice quiet.

Fuck. Of course Cole would be stressed out too. That wasn’t only Nya’s brother in there. That was Cole’s boyfriend, that was Zane’s best friend. They were all family, biological or not. They were all worried.

Still, Kai would be fine. He had to be.

---

Kai woke up to blindingly white walls. He groaned, attempting to sit up, but found that he was in way too much pain for that. Why did everything hurt like that?

Oh, yeah, the whole stabbing thing.

He snorted at the memory of the joke he’d made before passing out. He had been right, he was pretty sure. That probably was what a period felt like. Girls always described it as the equivalent to being stabbed in the gut, anyways. And, unless they were exaggerating (Kai found it hard to believe that every woman alive was exaggerating it), he could actually relate.

A nurse walked in. “Oh!” he exclaimed, “You’re awake!”

Kai, not wanting to cause himself the needless pain of moving, just stared at the guy.

“How are you feeling?”

Kai gave the honest answer of “Shitty.”

The nurse laughed a little, at least. Whoop de doo, Kai was great at entertainment.

The nurse had to ask him a million and one questions, and it dragged on for what was probably forever. They were all really stupid questions, too, ones that they probably could have asked Nya. You know, the one who wasn’t feeling like death itself.

But then, finally, mercifully, his family burst in.

“Kai Smith!” Nya yelled, marching over to his bedside. “You absolute idiot!”

Kai changed his mind. He wanted the stupid questions back.

“You could have died! You’ve got to be more careful!”

“Hey, hey!” Kai cried, struggling to sit up so he could better articulate his argument. “But have you considered: I didn’t.”

Nya stared at him, her eyes looking directly into his soul. His sister was absolutely about to strike the fear of the first spinjitzu master into him.

“Kai,” Nya said, looking very, very calm. Too calm. “Shut the fuck up.”

[red-dead-disaster]

Ms Grimshaw is no angel but even Hosea consistently does worse things.

We finally got female characters that are multidimensional and flawed and most people still hate them.

Molly is a young idiot. She made a shitty choice because she was manipulated by a certain asshole and already vulnerable.

Mary loves Arthur enough to want him to be better and make choices that won't get him killed like they inevitably do. It's not bad to want someone you love to stop being a criminal, I can't even call it selfish in any way. To be fair, she would benefit from it, but this motherfucker is broke, has a rapsheet as long as the Amazon, no one is gonna do that unless they genuinely love the person and their situation is really bad.

Her father said he should kill her himself, yet no one gives a fuck. He robbed her, probably took more than just that one broach (where are the cute earrings that would go with her outfit, hm? Why is her mourning dress Abigails SD bank robbery dress?). Her brother gave a lot of money to the suicide cult he joined and they have to rely on their abusive father, her being a law abiding widowed woman in 1899, a time where she can't even have a bank account.

Where else can she turn? Being in a cult is not a crime. She can easily be dismissed as hysterical. By the timeline the game gives and Abigail knowing her, they only broke up ~4 years ago and probably dated for a long time.

These missions also give you a choice at the turn. Unlike with Dutch, he can say no. It's deliberate, it shows that she is not forcing him into something. No other mandatory mission gives you a choice like this, especially when there are stakes involved. They don't affect Arthur at all, but these are still genuinely serious things. Her brother can leave for college, but she doesn't really have another way out.

Arthur has probably chosen the gang over her multiple times, the people that encourage him to keep risking his life, the man who raised an orphan into his personal gun, the man who continuously manipulates him, the lifestyle that feeds his self hatred. It could explain her defeated reaction.

Abigail? Child prostitute, later got caught up in a gang. A man impregnated her and then abandoned everyone. Yeah, we should be angrier at John. Nag away ma'am, you earned the right, I'll cheer you on.

Sadie gets her fair share of hate too. Why? Mary Sue fueling the lib left agenda. She has reasons for being a good shot. She is very flawed. Women can be flawed and badass.

There is an intersection between slash shipping and misogyny. Not blaming anyone for it because every one should be proud of creating art and we all have prefences, but think of why you do it when there are well written women in fition too and why you may choose to leave them out of the story you tell entirely. You don't need Mary to be Arthur's bitch ex to make John seem better, just ignore her. I saw the stats, I see you there writing this slander about my wife, you don't deserve her and I will steal her if you keep being a little shit

actually im making an actual post abt this lol. if you actively go out of your way to post really just aggressive, vile things abt the women in rdr2 -- mary, abigail, molly, and susan are the ones i see most frequently -- and claim that you do this because these characters are, in your eyes, irredeemable for certain actions, but you DON'T consider characters like dutch, hosea, arthur, john, etc irredeemable, i really think you need to ask yourself why you feel this way.

why is ms grimshaw a bitch who should fuck off and die because she slapped mary-beth and tried to get abigail to go back to prostitution, but dutch isn't a stupid cunt who got what he deserved because he literally left arthur and john to die more than once and encouraged murder and robbery to young people he took in?

why is mary linton a manipulative bitch for turning away arthur's affections but still asking for his help, but john isn't a piece of shit who should be smeared for abandoning abigail after she had his kid?

why is molly a stuck up lazy cunt for acting the way she does, but uncle is just a silly old man instead of a freeloading shithead who should die?

y'all will focus so much energy on just HATING women in these games it's actually insane, and i fr think people who aggressively hate several women in these stories but absolutely adore characters like dutch and arthur, who have done horrific awful things, really need to just take a step back and ask why they feel that way. if you post any stupid shit on this im stealing something out of your house btw

[baodurs]

i want someone besides me and the 2 friends who know all the lore to meet my detective, but i’m too impatient to let you get to know her via fic so i filled out this questionnaire instead. she is veronica and she is so important, here is some stuff about her if you are interested :’)

QUICK READ OF YOUR DETECTIVE

Name: veronica langford

Pronouns: she/her

Sexuality: bi

Love interest: adam

Best friend: morgan

Main skill: science/technology

Secondary skill: combat/physical

Main personality trait: impulsive

Secondary personality trait: sarcastic

Why did they join the Wayhaven PD?: best use of her science skills

Relationship with Rebecca: not great

Relationship with Bobby: ex, finds it hard to be around him

Verda or Tina?: both! but she’s on verda’s branch

Murphy bite?: wrist

Murphy's fate?: captured

Rescue LI or Rescue Sanja?: sanja

GENERAL

Name: veronica “it’s been 3 years and i never gave her a middle name” langford

Nickname: just veronica. people around wayhaven called her ronny growing up, and a few still do despite her trying to grow out of it. maybe a few people from college and sometimes tina call her v or vee or something.

Birthday: please you all know i am so scared of concrete dates

Age: 26

Pronouns: she/her

Sexuality: bi

Hair color: brown

Eye color: dark brown

Height: 5′10 (178 cm)

Piercings: just one in each ear

Tattoos: something retro sci-fi on her shoulder. not a reference to anything specific, but like a little planetary landscape with a UFO in the background or something.

Clothing Style: casual. lots of tank tops and muscle tees (weather- and occasion-permitting), concert t-shirts, warm colors. flannels and leather jackets. jeans, sneakers, combat boots. think like rocker chick vibes, but cozier and more colorful.

Apartment Style: basic. she really did not plan on living there long and kept putting off decorating because it’d be a waste if she was just going to move out. this rationalization went on so long but since the end of book 1 she has slowly bought a few things to push it towards “cozy,” still pretty sparse though.

STATS

Personality:

Charming | Intimidating

Impulsive | Cautious

Sarcastic | Genuine

Friendly | Stoic

Easygoing | Stubborn

Traits:

Heart | Mind

Optimist | Pessimist

Team Player | Independent

Skills:

Main Skill: science/technology (but mostly science)

Second Skill: combat/physical

By the Book | Bend the Rules

KEY DECISIONS

Reason for joining the Wayhaven PD: best use of her science skills

Murphy bite:  Wrist | Neck | None

Murphy’s Fate: Captured | Escaped

Rescued: Love Interest | Sanja

ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP

Love Interest: adam

Why them?: for veronica it’s kind of retroactive. the way i imagine their True Canon, they don’t have any real romantic moments in book 1, so she doesn’t seriously consider that adam might have feelings for her until well into book 2. (the training scene is when she’s like “oh. ok. i get it now.”) even then it takes a few more chapters for her to really process that, figure out how she feels, and recontextualize everything. like realizing that he loves her and then thinking back on their relationship, knowing that, makes her feel so held (sorry i have no better way to say it) in a way that just makes her want to cry.

to give some actual specific reasons, it’s his dedication and his constancy and hidden care/softness. and his very specific brand of... selflessness might be just left of the word i’m looking for, but hopefully you get me.

Bold, shy, or mixed?: neither! in theory it’s closer to bold, but it’s more just earnest.

What were their first impressions of each other?: disastrous. on top of finding him condescending and unpleasant, there are also a few moments where veronica genuinely wonders whether he’s even a good person. or, like, cares about people. but once she learns the truth of things, a lot of her initial anger gets transferred to rebecca.

adam, with the benefit of knowing what’s actually happening, has a slightly more favorable impression of veronica. yes he thinks she’s difficult and reckless and too emotionally driven, yes she’s making his job absolutely miserable, but he does begrudgingly respect that her accusations are always on the right track and she’s good at her job.

What do they find attractive about each other, mentally or physically?:

for veronica: she loooves his sense of humor. and how much faith he has in the people he cares about. physically, dimples <3. but everything about his smile really. and his nose!

for adam: veronica has a very blunt, unadorned sense of kindness to her that he really loves. the way she is kind before she is nice and values directness. physically, her eyes, they’re deep brown and so expressive.

What do they do to spend time together?: they’re both competitive so anything where they can compete on the same team is fun. (competing against each other is fun too, but also like. exhausting. for them and everyone.) maybe puzzles or other things where it feels like they’re “winning” or solving something together. i have spent an embarrassing amount of thought on veronica and overw*tch esp*rts and she would absolutely make adam learn how to play main tank so they could queue as a tank duo. but most of the time i think they don’t Do specific things together; they just hang out. just talk with each other. perhaps snuggle.

What is their favorite memory together?: in current canon... lol. veronica really just treasures any time adam relaxes around her but those moments always get Ruined. even once they’re well into a relationship, i think veronica’s favorite memory would still be something small like a random time he said something funny and they both laughed together and they were outside and the sky was pretty.

What are their love languages?: acts of service for both of them, but especially adam. veronica... probably lots of words of affirmation and physical touch. they’re both bad at blocking out time for themselves in the first place, so quality time can get neglected especially at first.

How do they handle being apart from one another?: pretty well i think! once they’re in an established relationship at least, before that it’s probably harder. but adam can distract himself with work, and veronica is good at focusing on whatever’s in front of her (whether that’s work or she’s away on vacation or something). if neither of them is too busy, veronica calls every night and they stay on a while, half talking and half just keeping each other company.

Do they argue? How do they handle arguments and disagreements? How do they make up?: i think arguments are fairly rare! yes they’re both insanely stubborn, but they also understand each other pretty well (especially once in a relationship) and are very sympathetic to where the other is coming from. unless both of them are extremely stressed, one of them crumbles when they start genuinely arguing like "i don't want to fight ok, let's take a second."

What does their future look like?: who knows! i haven’t decided whether veronica will turn. i think she probably will, just because i do not want my main pairing for this IF to make me very sad all the time, but like. i’m not fully committing until i see a reason pop up in canon. as of book 3′s final demo, it’s not on her radar at all; she knows she loves adam and wishes they could Talk, but ultimately doesn’t expect or even want a relationship right now (because she doesn’t want to deal with dating one of rebecca’s agents OR with the logistics of being in a committed relationship with an immortal being). it’s just all so foreign to her current state of mind that it’s really hard to say!

Anything else you'd like to share: do you know how hard it was to answer some of these considering veronica wasn’t sure they were even, like, on decent terms for such a large portion of the canon content

BEST FRIEND RELATIONSHIP

Best friend: morgan and farah are essentially joint besties but i’ll go with M

Why them?: i think they appreciate each other’s no bullshit attitude. morgan likes that veronica doesn’t take herself too seriously and respects/relates to the way she tackles problems (quickly, head-on, and without complaint but also without pretending that it doesn’t suck?). veronica appreciates morgan’s bluntness, likes bantering with her, and in general just likes being around people that have quiet/steady presences.

What were their first impressions of each other?: neither of them had much of a first impression honestly. morgan barely thought of veronica at all beyond “she’s annoying,” and kept to herself so much that any dislike veronica had of morgan took a backseat to her dealing with the rest of unit bravo.

What do they do to spend time together?: lots of just sitting in the same room and listening to (low volume) music, veronica spends a lot of time hunting for songs morgan might like. morgan is also her go-to sparring/training buddy. and there are semi-frequent movie nights where veronica shows farah her favorite old shitty B movies, and sometimes morgan will tag along just to sit in the room with them or affectionately talk shit.

Anything else you'd like to share: i’ll talk a little about N! obviously veronica and nate respect, trust, and like each other, but she finds him the hardest of UB to connect with. they’re both people who wear their compassion on their sleeves but keep a lot of their hearts/themselves held back, so they just kind of circle each other, especially since like... nate values politeness and is very sweet in how he relates to people, while veronica values directness and is more jokey/lighthearted to put people at ease. idk how well i’m communicating this; as of the book 3 demo it’s getting easier, but their friendship is still newer/more... nebulous? than the others.

OTHER RELATIONSHIPS (Feel free to go in depth!)

Relationship with Rebecca: so strained. veronica has come to terms with rebecca’s absences throughout her childhood, but there’s newer resentment over... a lot of things, but how she handled the murphy case especially. veronica hates being kept in the dark, and even more than that she hates being rebecca’s priority. it’s difficult to reconcile her childhood and present images of rebecca, and she’s angry that rebecca is so freely and recklessly choosing her, now, to the point of endangering others if she has to, especially when she never felt like rebecca’s choice before. and incredibly frustrated/confused by how often the lines between their professional and familial relationships are blurred and what rebecca actually wants from her.

Relationship with Rook: veronica takes after rook a lot. in stat terms, the only trait they don’t share is stoic, and even then that’s veronica’s least extreme stat. people always told her how like her father she was growing up, and it’s a comparison she took/takes a lot of pride in! she looks up to him based on the stories, but more recently is uncomfortable with the comparisons. veronica would never have even come back to wayhaven if her life panned out as planned, let alone become a detective or joined the agency. that makes her doubt herself, and she feels like that doubt is letting rook down somehow.

rook is also part of the reason her relationship with rebecca isn’t as bad as it could be. she knows that rook loved her, and that he would want his family to be there for each other, so she feels obligated to at least try to make things better. but it’s really hard for her to move past everything to connect with rebecca (which also makes her feel like she’s disappointing rook).

Relationship with Bobby: they were together for a long time and veronica thought she loved him a lot! it was her first relationship, so she wasn’t sure a) what a “bad partner” looked like, or b) how to even be in a relationship or rely on someone in that way. so they spent a lot of time together and had great superficial chemistry, but veronica didn’t have enough experience with not feeling neglected to realize how shallow it was, or notice the red flags when she did occasionally open up. the plagiarism fiasco was a slap in the face, especially because it cost her internships/grad school apps/whatever, i don’t have the details, and forced her to move back to wayhaven after school. she’s still very hurt by it and finds it hard to be around bobby.

Relationship with Verda: due to the above plagiarism fiasco, veronica was pretty depressed when she moved back home, and disliking her job didn’t help. she was extremely jealous when verda was hired and wanted to hate him. but it did not take long for that to crumble into respect/admiration, and eventually into close friendship! verda is a role model for her; they bond over science; they joke easily and have good chill fun. she was really excited to see him piecing together the truth about the supernatural and then devastated to see how he reacted. she feels insanely guilty and thinks it was selfish of her to let him figure it out, but is also cautiously optimistic about making it up to him as of the book 3 demo.

Relationship with Tina: very close! veronica isolated herself when she came back to wayhaven after school, and she is so grateful to tina for being her closest friend and link to the rest of the world during that time. hates keeping the supernatural from her, though. she didn’t like lying to tina to begin with, but she feels even worse about it now that verda knows, and now that tina has clearly picked up on something being wrong but she still can’t say anything.

Relationship with the Mayor: cannot stand him. hates the way he talks about rook, hates the way he talks to rebecca. she cooperates as necessary but doesn’t bother hiding her lack of patience/respect for him.

Relationship with Capt. Sung: basically fine. i think veronica might be a little too casual for him in the way she works, but she always gets the job done so he’s not too bothered by it. (she is ‘bend the rules,’ but more ‘strict rules aren’t important as long as you’re still doing good work’ than the ‘boooo fuck paperwork’ variety. so it’s mostly fine.) she also appreciates him as a minor link to rook.

Relationship with Haley: very friendly, but not super close. they get along great and could make pleasant conversation for hours, but ultimately don’t know each other super well despite the familiarity of growing up together.

Relationship with Elidor: such a comforting presence for veronica during her recovery! she is so grateful, so fond.

Relationship with Tapeesa/Vieno: veronica loves vieno’s cranky-yet-friendly vibe and they get along well! not close, but will stop to chat whenever they pass each other.

Relationship with Unit Alpha: loves their energy. always looks forward to the next opportunity to chat with them, and fully supports any harmless dunking on UB even if she rarely joins in.

Relationship with the Maa-alused: going through the house of mirrors and then coming home for them to appear in her apartment and infect bobby was one of thee worst experiences of her life, and it’s hard for her to get past that + the illness in general. sympathizes with them, and got them to sign the treaty, but is still kind of unsettled by everything that happened and by falk.

Do they have any other important relationships, past or present? (Relatives, friends, etc.?): some vague figures i have in mind but no one i’ve really developed. a couple friends from college, and maybe an elderly couple that lives on her childhood street and used to check in her.

PERSONAL BIO

Describe their personality: her usual demeanor is very warm and casual. sincere but private--she’s pretty blunt and likes to be direct with people, but steers conversations away from personal topics. likes to joke around and doesn’t take herself that seriously. but behind all this, she’s extremely stubborn and won’t shy away from conflict if she thinks you’re in the wrong (which is why she seems like a different person in the first half of book 1. UB is surprised by how like... chill and nice she is once they clear the air). a workaholic, self-reliant and secure but still pretty hard on herself, takes a lot of responsibility for the people around her.

Strengths: so dedicated. honest and trustworthy, has a strong moral compass and can always be counted on to do her absolute best. flexible and intuitive, her brain works really fast.

Weaknesses: cannot compartmentalize or separate herself from a case, throws herself so recklessly into everything (in terms of both physical danger and emotional burnout). doesn’t necessarily hold grudges but has a hard time letting go of hurt, still can’t think objectively about bobby or rebecca.

Where in the world is their Wayhaven?: somewhere on the US east coast idk what to tell you. perhaps a carolina or a virginia.

What is their personal history?: veronica was pretty social and well-liked around wayhaven growing up. she was known as just a really good kid; she was an overachiever and got along with almost anyone. in college, she felt like she was free of something and took a very work hard/play hard approach to life. always doing or going, whether it was for school or work or fun. she really enjoyed life during this time but crashed and burned pretty hard when she and bobby broke up; a lot of her plans were delayed until the plagiarism incident was resolved and she didn’t really have the heart to pursue them afterwards.

a year or so after graduating, she returned to wayhaven with the intention of taking one more year to regroup, and she has been stuck there longer than she meant to be and has kind of hit a wall when book 1 starts.

If they weren't a detective, what would their dream job be?: she was on track to become a biochemist and it was her dream job but then the main plot happened to her.

Anything else you'd like to share: i don’t really know enough to fully explain this, but no OC i love is a cop so like. i think maybe the job she took when she got back to wayhaven was a douglas-esque receptionist role for detective reele’s private office. then reele retired and small town politics + veronica’s history of useful contributions to cases in her downtime at work led to her being pressured to take up the mantle. it’s hard to explain why she’s a detective when she so deeply does not want to be one but i am Trying (or maybe she would have jumped at the chance to do something marginally closer to forensics?? who knows)

RANDOM FACTS

Zodiac sign: aries is what i assigned her when i first made her and i think it suits her! plus it’d be fun for her and M to be twins. this goes hand-in-hand with my birthday commitment issues though

Hobbies: music (she plays guitar and bass and sings a little), running, gaming unfortunately. i could also see her having been into boxing or some martial art but idk what exactly!

Likes: early morning stillness, DIY projects, t-shirts with inexplicable slogans and other weird thrift store finds

Dislikes: overly sweet food or drink, when cold weather lasts too long, being lied to or “protected” from the truth

Drink of choice: something with gin maybe. also feels a great fondness and gratitude for cheap wine.

Starbucks order: i truly know nothing about coffee. is it weird to order black coffee at starbucks

Favorite food: variations on spicy chicken soup! she eats a lot of crockpot meals for convenience and they’ve grown on her, and she has a few different recipes based on whatever she has on hand.

Favorite color: maybe like a rusty orange

Favorite music: she will listen to anything, but her favorite is probably folk rock, or sometimes stuff with soul or old school country vibes. big thief is a good example of an artist she’d be into i think! also was very into the indie music scene in her college town and still follows some of those bands.

Favorite genre (and favorite movie/book/etc): loves old, campy, unselfconsciously optimistic sci-fi. loves star trek tos. also a fan of documentaries of all kinds.

Favorite season: summer

Anything else you'd like to share: a kiss for you reading this mwah

[salexectrian-heir]

messages from last night update

chapter below the cut | ao3 link

✧ Oracle ✧

SEPT 1ST 4:57 AM

[Joker] Hi

[Joker] Story time

[✧ Oracle ✧] i see yusuke returned ur phone

[Joker] Aha, yeah. After swearing on my life I would not make any more poor life choices

[Joker] I assume that was your doing

[✧ Oracle ✧] ur welcome

[Joker] Hmm well I might not have sworn hard enough

[✧ Oracle ✧] ???

[Joker] bet you 500 yen you can’t guess where I woke up this morning (without hacking my location)

[✧ Oracle ✧] oh god akira… jail?

[✧ Oracle ✧] again??!

[Joker] No

[Joker] Better

[✧ Oracle ✧] !!?

[Joker] On the catwalk of the auditorium

[✧ Oracle ✧] BRUH

[✧ Oracle ✧] didnt yusuke like walk u home???

[Joker] He did

[Joker] I just didn’t stay home after

[✧ Oracle ✧] (-_-;)・・・

[✧ Oracle ✧] but don’t they lock up the buildings at night….

[Joker] ...

[✧ Oracle ✧] also i’m p sure catwalks are at least fifteen meters in the air??

[Joker] ...

[Joker] I am surprisingly still very dexterous while intoxicated

[✧ Oracle ✧] o m g

[✧ Oracle ✧] what possessed u to sneak out of the dorm, pick a lock, scale scaffolding, and fall asleep on a metal beam is  / literally /  beyond me

[Joker] Me too, It's all very...fuzzy after getting back to the dorms

[Joker] Maybe I was a cat in a past life

[✧ Oracle ✧] cat!kira

[✧ Oracle ✧] congrats u now have a fursona to add to your growing list of ‘sonas

[Joker] Cat!kira go prrr?

[✧ Oracle ✧] HAHAH a self-drag?

[✧ Oracle ✧] Someone truly is hungover and regretting his life choices

[Joker] Jokes aside, all that flexibility training I did in hs apparently paid off

[Joker] I have no new bruises or injuries that I am aware of so I made it up in one piece. Somehow.

[✧ Oracle ✧] wait hold up I thot all that “training” u’d say u were doing was just like horny akira code for “going to mess around with Sumi after school”

[✧ Oracle ✧] don’t tell me u actually were doing gymnastics with her that whole time

[Joker] Okay

[✧ Oracle ✧] ????

[Joker] You literally just told me not to tell you

[✧ Oracle ✧] but was i right?! i NEED to kno if i was right

[Joker] Haha yes and no

[Joker] We did both

[Joker] is typing...

[✧ Oracle ✧] oKAY OKAY OKAY NO DETAILS (SAVE THOSE FOR ANN)

[✧ Oracle ✧] JUST CONFIRMATION THANK U next

[Joker] You have written fanfic more explicit than anything I could ever tell you I’ve done, AND I PROOF READ IT FOR YOU

[✧ Oracle ✧] ヽ(•//д//•)ノ [ok true]

[✧ Oracle ✧] but

[✧ Oracle ✧] ヽ(•̀//д//•́)ノ

[Joker] Ik Ik, I’m teasing. I won’t corrupt your virginal ears

[✧ Oracle ✧] /anyway/ people r gonna be mad jealous when they find out u dated an olympic gymnast

[Joker] She wasn’t one when we dated though so technically I didn’t

[Joker] She found out she qualified shortly before we went back to being just friends

[Joker] I think we’re both much happier this way

[✧ Oracle ✧] Obviously. you still talk to her??

[Joker] Yeah

[Joker] We caught up before the semester started

[Joker] She said she was nervous, but that’s to be expected when you’re on the global stage. Aside from that she’s fitting in really well with her new teammates. She just wishes Kasumi could have been a part of it

[✧ Oracle ✧] </3

[Joker] Yeah :( </3

[Joker] But she’s good

[Joker] Still calls me senpai though...which idk how to feel about that

[✧ Oracle ✧] lol its ~cute~

[Joker] Hmm leaning towards don’t think so

[✧ Oracle ✧] “oh ~senpai~ you’ll still watch me compete in the olympics on TV right?”

[Joker] ...did you listen in on the call

[✧ Oracle ✧] no

[Joker] “no,” she lied like a liar (I know you still have my phone bugged damn it)

***

The Phantom Thieves of Cats

SEPT 1ST 5:01 AM

[✧ Oracle ✧] *kicks down the door to the thieves den*

[✧ Oracle ✧] INARI U FAILED

[✧ Oracle ✧] GUESS WHERE AKIRA IS

[✧ Oracle ✧] (hint: not where he’s supposed 2 be)

[Fox] Preposterous! He was safely returned to his dorm room. I personally put him to bed.

[Panther] you stayed over in their dorm room Fox… isn’t he in there w/you??

[Fox] is typing...

[Fox] Ah. It appears that I am in his bed and Akira is indeed missing. I was on the floor when we went to sleep. I have no recollection of this transfer.

[Fox] I have awoken Ryuji but all he has done is throw his possessions at me in an attempt to silence my “pestering” so I do not think he will be of any help in this situation.

[Joker] Don’t bother with him Fox. He isn’t responsive until at least 9am after a night out.

[Joker] Also, why aren’t the rest of you sleeping?

[Panther] Joker! you’re alive!!! are you okay???????

[Joker] Define okay

[✧ Oracle ✧] *cackles*

[Panther] where are you?!?

[Joker] You aren’t going to guess?

[Panther] jail?

[Fox] Please let it not be true your detective arrested you last night, and you are suffering in incarceration as we type.

[Joker] Why is jail everyone’s first guess? I was only arrested once!

[Joker] Fuck

[Joker] Also, he is not “my” detective

[Fox] is typing…

[✧ Oracle ✧] u sure about that

[Joker] Oh no

[✧ Oracle ✧] pls reread our messages from last night

[Joker] Oh GOD

[✧ Oracle ✧] *cackles louder*

[✧ Oracle ✧] i can’t wait to hear what inari is about to dish out

[Panther] wait what did akira say to you @ ✧ Oracle ✧?!

[Joker] Futaba please *softly* don’t

[Fox] Last night I had to relieve you of your phone before you texted the detective prince incriminating evidence of your state of inebriation and infatuation. You were adamant that you had to send him a picture of a cat as a token of your feelings, which I objected as the image you selected was not flattering of the cat. I may have just met you a few days ago, so please tell me if I am overstepping my bounds, but I do not think sending hideous pictures of cats is a wise way of winning over this man’s affections.

[✧ Oracle ✧] pls show us the picture he wanted to send

[Fox]

[Panther] Hahahah oh akira

[✧ Oracle ✧]

[Joker] …

[Joker] I’ll be staying at this undisclosed location until further notice

[Panther] no Akira!!! seriously where are you??

[Joker] the_view_is_nice.image

[Panther] :O

[Panther] how did you get up that high???

[✧ Oracle ✧] gymnastics training

[Panther] huh? i didn’t know you were a gymnast Akira!!

[✧ Oracle ✧] im sure he’ll tell u all about it now

[Joker] -____-

[Fox] I cannot believe I failed my first mission as the Chosen One.

[✧ Oracle ✧] i can

[Fox] is typing…

[Panther] @ ✧ Oracle ✧!!!!!!

[✧ Oracle ✧] kek

[Fox] I am an utter disgrace to this friendship. How can I even call this a friendship when I have done nothing but leech from the kindness you all have bestowed upon me. How will I ever be able to show my face among you,  those whom I have failed. I must atone for the shame I have wrought.

[Joker] You didn’t fail @ Fox, and you are not a disgrace. It was my fault. I was the shitty friend in this situation. I’ll make it up to everyone, and to you Fox. I’ll think of something.

[Fox] Food would suffice.

[Joker] Dinner for a week it is.

[Fox] Delightful!

[Panther] wow he got over that fast

[✧ Oracle ✧] welcome to being friends with Inari, the path of forgiveness is through his stomach

***

✧ Oracle ✧

SEPT 1st 5:07 AM

[Joker] Slight problem

[Joker] I actually have no idea how to get down

[✧ Oracle ✧] u really r part f*cking cat

***

Regrettably, some of his life choices last night did him no favors.

Mistakes had been made. Limits and Lessons had been learned. Unfortunately the hard way.

After miraculously finding a way down off the catwalk without injury  into his dorm shower and a fresh set of clothes, Akira managed to show up for his opening shift at Big Bang Blends ten minutes early.

Haru took one look at him when he slinked into the kitchen and immediately said, “Oh dear.”

Akira spun a damp curl around his finger. “That bad, huh?”

“Uhm.” Haru offered him a wobbling, pitiful smile. “You kind of look like how I would imagine a cat that got caught outside in the rain might feel.”

He let out a self-deprecating chuckle and wandered over to the apron rack. “Fair comparison.” Selecting his off its hook, he pulled it over his head. “I’d add on that the cat also got stuck in a tree and developed a splitting migraine.”

“I know just the thing that’ll sort you out!” Haru hovered over to Akira’s side. “Whenever I--” she paused, considering her words with a finger to her lip, “overindulge,” she settled on with a giggle, “I’ll make myself a cup of my special tea. It instantly clears my head and calms my stomach.”

Akira’s stomach rolled unpleasantly. “ Special tea ?”

Haru nodded vigorously. “It works like a charm! And I’m not just saying that because I drink it, I have a friend--well, I might be overstepping if I were to call him that, we aren’t that close,” Haru sighed, “but I make it for him too when he occasionally stumbles in here in a similar state.”

“Do I want to know what’s in it?” he asked hesitantly.

Haru beamed brightly at him. “No.”

Akira groaned.

“I promise it’ll work,” Haru said, wandering out of the kitchen and over to her collection of loose leaf teas that were displayed in clear, sealed jars behind the counter. She called back to him, “You’ll perk up in no time!”

He gave her a weak thumbs up.

Picking up the task list from the side of the walk in freezer, he resigned himself to his fate of ingesting whatever the fuck concotion Haru was going to feed him. It couldn’t have been worse than what he drank last night. In all honesty, he would have been feeling way, way, worse if Yusuke hadn’t convinced him to drink so much water when they got back. Akira would like to think the fact he wasn’t curled up on the floor in the fetal position on the cafe floor was also thanks in part to the Amazake he had chosen to drink the night prior too. But the thought of the non-alcoholic sake made his stomach churn harder so he stopped that train of thought immediately, and focused on setting up the dining area.  His head felt like it weighed five pounds heavier than it usually did, which made moving it a bit of a hassle, but he had the opening sheet to finish before the cafe opened and he’d damn himself if he didn’t deliver.

What his stomach did seem safe to think about was luck stats, and that maybe Futaba was onto something when she had made that off hand comment in their chat last night. Akira was incredibly lucky to have landed two bosses ( three if he counted Sojiro but the man was more like a father than he ever was a boss) who cared more about his well being as a person than as a source of cheap labor. Watching Haru make his tea as he flipped chairs down off the tables only amplified his guilt of showing up before her utterly and unmistakably hungover.

Being the sloppy friend did not sit well with Akira.

He swore to himself as he pushed in the last chair he took down that this was the first and last time he ever did anything as stupid and irresponsible as he did last night. Not to mention, his luck wouldn’t last if he kept this up. He’d make it up to everyone somehow, and Haru in particular now. He wouldn’t let his current state impact his work.

And once he stopped feeling like dogshit and could form a coherent argument, he was going to have a long, hard talk with whichever one of his personas decided it would be great fucking idea to drink so much, scale the interior of the theatre, and fall asleep on a steel beam no greater than sixty centimeters in width. Because honestly, what the fuck ?

Even In high school, his “peak stupidity” years, he hadn’t done anything as dumb as this.

Okay, well, that was a lie.

He had done a lot of stupid, often illegal things (see: petty theft, breaking and entering) in high school that to him, had been justified. He was quite gifted at stealing and knew his way around a lock with professional proficiency, and he had gotten away with it unscathed for a very long time.

Except for the whole getting arrested and put on probation thing , which ironically had been for a crime he didn’t actually commit.

“It’s ready!”

“Thanks, Haru.”

Akira swung by the to-go counter reaching for the mystery tea waiting for him and continued on.

After thirty minutes of sipping on whatever miracle cure Haru brewed as he checked off the morning set up tasks, it fucking kicked in. The mind fog and nausea disappeared almost entirely, settling his stomach enough that he was able to keep down some Advil and melon pan with Haru for breakfast. Akira could handle the headache until the medicine took over.

He just couldn’t move too fast or too sudden (Akira was still a little too off balance for that), or turn his neck sharply (thanks to what he had drunkenly decided to use as a pillow the night before). But he powered through it as he set about stocking the various coffee beans in their containers.

The last item on the task sheet they completed together. Prepping the food items for the pastry case with all of the baked goods Haru had made the night before. In addition to mochi, goma dango, and other pastries one would expect to enjoy with tea and coffee, there was always some kind of cake. Meticulously and lovingly decorated, sliced by hand that Haru showcased in her cake display. Today’s selection was a daring one, a pink lemonade cake with delicately applied ombre pink frosting and topped with candied lemon slices that were evenly spaced, each sitting on an artful dollop of whipped white icing.

“Did you want to try a piece, Akira-kun?”

Akira glanced over from where he was sliding a tray of nerikiri into the case. A plate with a modest slice was being extended to him. Eyeing the color up close, his stomach protested. Apparently still a little too hungover to test the limits of his digestive tract with such an extravagant confection.

“It looks amazing, but I think I’ll stick to the melon pan this time Haru.”

“I can always save it for la--”

A sharp series of knocks interrupted their conversation.

From his position squatting on the floor, he checked the time on his phone. There were still five minutes until the cafe officially opened for the day. Haru had warned him there were always a few people who showed up early and failed to read the sign.

“I’ll get it,” Akira sighed, sliding the door of the pastry case shut. “You finish with the cake. I’ll handle our impatient caffeine addict.”

“Oh don’t worry the cake’s all done, I just cut the last slice.” Haru waved Akira off. “I can get him.”

Him?

He hastily straightened up, brushing a few stray sugary crumbs off his apron and immediately looked over at the entrance. Every muscle in his body seized up. Waiting outside the glass doors was one impeccably dressed and restless looking Akechi Goro. Akechi rolled his shoulder, adjusting the strap of his messenger bag while he checked his phone.

The message Akira sent Akechi last night intrusively echoed in his head the moment the former detective looked up and locked eyes with him. Pocketing his phone into his suit jacket (it had to be custom fit, because there was no way it could have cut his figure that well without tailoring), he lifted his chin ever so slightly. Akechi’s expression twisted wickedly into something that short circuited Akira’s brain.

Oh.

Fuck .

A war waged between two primal instincts in Akira’s body at the sight, the overwhelming urge to run in the face of danger clashing with a tidal wave of lust. The rush coursed through his veins, freezing him in place. Much like prey that had been cornered, his heart began to thrash against his ribs.

Akechi’s grin was sharp and salacious, a stark contrast to the innocent and winsome smile that the T.V. ready Prince so often wore. Akira didn’t know him all that well (... yet ), but God , that smile just seemed to suit Akechi so much better.

Akira got to witness this side of Akechi knowing it was reserved for only him for about two whole seconds before Akechi’s face changed, shifting into his composed, manufactured doll-like mask when Haru made it over to let him in.

The transformation gave Akira something pretty close to whiplash.

Really arousing whiplash.

“Good morning Akechi-san,” she greeted him, holding the door open with a warm smile.

“And same to you, Okumura-san,” he returned politely, stepping past her and into the cafe proper. “Pardon my early arrival, I have quite the busy day planned unfortunately and was hoping to get a jump start.” He brushed aside a few strands of hair that had fallen into his eyes with a gloved hand. “I hope your morning has been going well.”

“It’s barely started,” Akira muttered, reaching for a to-go cup to start Akechi’s order to busy himself with so he wouldn’t stare at the breathtakingly handsome man in front of him. His heart needed a break already.

Instead of writing Akechi’s name, he doodled a pair of handcuffs with the bold letters A and G within the negative space in each cuff (Akira admired his work for a brief moment and thought Yusuke would be proud). He marked the drink as a caramel latte, recalling what Haru had put down on his cup yesterday. Then proceeded to make a pour over instead.

Haru flipped the sign to open, and then said, “Very well, so far! I tried out a new cake recipe, you have to try it.”

Akechi laughed, and Akira’s stomach clenched--but this time in an all too pleasant way. Akira diverted his attention from grinding the beans for his drink to watch the detective ( Fuck! ) The sound was light and lyrical, and after what Akira witnessed… sounded totally out of place coming out of the same mouth that had held that smug, voracious grin a moment ago.

“As much as I would love to, I must decline. I cannot get into the habit of having cake for breakfast.”

“Then you must take a slice with you!” Haru walked past him and over to her cake display, lifting the glass lid and taking a piece out.

“Alright, if you insist,” Akechi conceded, coming to a stop in front of Akira, who moved on to scooping the grounds into the damp filter. The proximity made it near impossible to keep his eyes off the detective, but Akira somehow managed it, forcing himself to pay attention to his pour.

“Actually, would you mind if I borrowed your barista for a moment, Okumura-san?”

Akira snapped his head up from his preparations and met Akechi’s eyes once more ( God damnit! ). Which was a really dumb idea as a shock of pain spiked down his neck. He bit the inside of his cheek to stop from wincing.

A dangerous glint appeared in that maroon gaze that catapulted Akira’s thundering heart into his throat.

“Is he in trouble?” Haru peered over her shoulder from where she was packing a bright pink slice of cake into a to-go container.

“He might be,” Goro murmured just loud enough for Akira to hear, then broke their eye contact to address Haru, “I assure you, nothing of the sort.” He smiled that infuriatingly fake smile at her, complete with an innocent tilt of his head. “I just need to ask him a few questions, in private.”

Haru shot Akira a questioning stare, Do you need me to say no?

He shrugged nonchalantly, or as nonchalantly as someone who was having a very intense internal meltdown over an insanely attractive man could, and said, “It’s fine, Haru.” He continued to pour the scalding water in a circular motion over the coffee grounds in the filter, doing his best to quiet all the alarm bells in his head.

His response must have come off convincingly enough because Haru nodded and said, “Well, I can’t see why that would be a problem.” She hesitantly returned Akechi’s smile. “But I will need him back in a bit when the morning rush hits.”

“This shouldn’t take too long,” Akechi turned and gestured to a table in the corner of the cafe--far away enough from the counter that Haru couldn’t possibly overhear their conversation. Then under his breath he added, “As long as Kurusu-kun doesn’t resist, that is.”

Akira cleared his throat, willing his throbbing heart to drop back into its cage between his ribs. “Go on, I”ll join you when I’m finished.”

Akechi nodded, leaving the yen for his coffee on the counter and sauntered away. Akira topped off the pour over and transferred the liquid into the to-go cup. On his way around the counter he snagged what was left of his miracle tea and took a swig. He hoped it would replenish his mental reserves to handle the upcoming verbal sparring match he was sure he was about to walk into.

Akechi, in his immaculate glory, was leaning back in his chair languidly with one dark clad leg crossed. He watched Akira closely as he wandered over with their drinks. Akira suddenly felt incredibly out classed and underdressed in his usual cardigan-v neck combo he had going on compared to Akechi’s tan suit jacket and pressed button down shirt.

He slid into the seat opposite Akechi and pushed his coffee across the table. Akechi nodded in thanks and brought it to his lips.

Akira pretended he didn’t watch the way Akechi’s throat moved as he swallowed his first sip.

The detective hummed approvingly. “Black.”

“The way you actually like it,” Akira said with a knowing smile. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

“Is it now,” Akechi chuckled darkly against the lid still pressed to his lips. “Sadly, my coffee preferences are the extent of where your knowledge of me ends.”

In the tenuous silence that descended after that statement, they sipped at their respective drinks. Gazes not once wavering off one another.

“I assume you know why I’m here,” Akechi finally said, cutting the tension.

“When I said ‘come get me ’ I didn’t mean ‘corner me at work ’,” Akira hissed over his cup of miracle tea.

He could think of many other, far more superior places he would have loved to be cornered by Akechi in. But Akira kept that part to himself.

The detective leaned forward, resting his chin on his fist. “You do realize if this were a real investigation and I caught you as unaware as you were this morning, you being at work with your Boss present wouldn’t have deterred me.”

Akira stole a glance at Haru, who was busy writing the specials of the day on their blackboard, then drained the rest of his tea.

Akechi followed his gaze and continued on in a saccharine tone that contradicted the alluring smile his mouth had split into again, “But since it’s not, I highly doubt you want an audience for when I bend you over the counter and take what I want from you.”

Akira promptly choked.

Any lingering doubt Akira may have had about Akechi’s preferences evaporated. Akechi knew exactly what he was saying. He had to have, right? There was no heterosexual explanation for that response.

Point to Akechi, he thought, accepting the fact his face was probably as red as the flowering plant hovering three inches above his head.

“How considerate,” Akira managed to rasp once he got his tea to go down his throat correctly. Swallowing burned like a bitch. Now he had to deal with a sore throat on top of the rebellion being staged by his heart and stomach, and the leftover vertigo from his hangover.

“Will you hand it over now?” the detective asked with a hint of sugar coated venom.

“Hate to disappoint, but you’ll be walking away empty handed this morning. I left it in my room.”

Which wasn’t a lie. In his haste to recover from last night’s  escapade and get to work on time, he hadn’t thought to grab the handkerchief. The last thing he expected was this.

“I think you’re sending me mixed signals.”.

“Am I?”

“You tell me you want one thing, then act like you didn’t expect it to come to fruition when I follow through on it so I’m curious,” Akechi titled his head and his hair shifted, shining ethereally in the early morning sun streaming through the window. “What is it you really want, Kurusu?”

For you to fuck my brains out, Akira thought. But admitting that so bluntly to Akechi’s face felt like defeat. So, he kept the stupid illusion of their game going and leaned in.

“I want to see if the Detective Prince is really as good at his job as the rumors say he is.” Akira mirrored the detective’s head tilt and offered him a crooked grin. “I won’t be that easy.”

“If you want me to physically remove it from your person, then I must insist from this point forward you carry it with you. If every time I corner you, you… aren’t ready,” Akechi’s smile grew wider, “then doesn’t that defeat the purpose? And unlike you it seems, my time and attention is limited.”

“Rude.” Akira mimicked the detective’s posture, dropping his chin into his palm. “My time is limited too. I just can’t have you stalking me at work. And--” what Akira really meant to say next was , I cannot possibly work and retain my sanity with you watching me like that all the time. But instead said, “--Think of Okumura-san’s business. You’ll scare away her customers.”

Akechi shot him an unimpressed look. “Somehow I highly doubt that.”

Wow. Cocky bastard.  

"Well,” Akira said, changing tactics by imbuing a little bit of truth, “I imagine you can relate to not wanting to be distracted at work, with your fans and all.”

“They can be...rather inconvenient at times, yes.” Akechi studied him intently. “Alright then. Let’s make a deal.”

“Making a deal with the enemy? Akechi,” Akira feigned a gasp, “don’t tell me you’re a dirty cop.”

The detective snorted into his coffee. “I’m going to choose not to entertain that comment and suggest we establish some ground rules.”

“I thought rules didn’t exist in investigations,” Akira said mischievously.

“Like I previously stated, good thing this isn’t one, then?”

They shared a private smile.

“I propose this,” Akechi said, straightening up, hands clasped on the table. “From this point on, you will carry it on your person. I will catch you off guard within the next two weeks and take back what is rightfully mine. Our working hours are exempt from this. Obviously, the common spaces in the dormitory will be too by default. Should you ever need me as your RA, that will come first and foremost, I take my duties seriously. As should you. I think you’ll find these terms agreeable and respectful of each other’s time. Unless there are any other locations you want to deem off limits.”

Akira made a show of considering Akechi’s words, tapping a finger against his cheek. This was literally the most drawn out, intellectually charged foreplay Akira had ever engaged in but he couldn’t say it didn’t excite him. In fact, there was something exhilarating about it.  

“No. Everywhere else is fair game.”

“Really?” Akechi inquired, grin breaching that rapacious territory again. “Be careful what you agree to, Kurusu.”

Akira shrugged and leaned back.

“So,” Akechi prompted, “you won’t say no, will you?”

Of course he was going to accept. So Akira simply said, “I think I’ll hold on to your handkerchief.” And then held out his hand. It felt like the right thing to do.

“Hah, excellent,” Akechi smiled and shook it firmly. The leather was soft and warm as it dragged against Akira’s palm. “Otherwise, I will be forced to order a room inspection and somehow I doubt that is how you want this to play out.”

“If you are inspecting the room while I’m in it, then I might be.”

Right after the words left his mouth, the logical part of his brain that wasn’t stuck on being hungover and horny on main finally spoke up and reminded him of the very important, expulsion worthy, major cockblock that was currently being housed in his room: Morgana.

But then Akechi’s mouth upturned devilishly, and suddenly Akira decided he’d cross that furry bridge when he got to it.

“Well, then. I must be off. Thank you for the coffee,” Akechi said, dropping Akira’s hand as he stood up. “I have an interview taping in…” he checked his phone and sighed, “just over an hour. Hopefully the trains are on schedule.”

Akira tilted his head. “Still doing those?”

“Yes, keeping up appearances on behalf of the precinct,” Akechi explained, “I may be officially on hiatus as a full time student, but I still pick up cases from time to time. The media wants to know how I balance it all.”

“Ah. Explains the get up.”

Akechi bristled at the comment, his nose wrinkling ( cute! ) and brows drawing down as he straightened his already perfectly straight tie. “What’s wrong with my outfit?”

“Nothing,” Akira teased with a lilt in voice, “It’s nice, maybe a little stuffy.” He deliberately looked Akechi up and down. “But I bet you’d look better out of it, judging by what I saw you wear the last time you showed up here.” He couldn’t fight the coy smile his mouth twisted into even if he tried. “If you’re looking to show off, those shorts from yesterday would do a better job.”

The call out was meant to fluster Akechi, but the detective’s face remained remarkably even toned. Flawless even. Too flawless.

Could he be... he's totally wearing makeup.

Akira lifted a brow pointedly.

That did the trick, earning Akira a heated glare before Akechi turned his head sharply away. The movement roughly shifted the hair around his face, revealing a sliver of skin previously hidden. To Akira’s rapidly dawning delight, the detective’s neck was rapidly turning pink.

“Shut. Up. Kurusu.”

Oh, so Akechi blushes all the way down when he’s flustered. Fascinating. Akira filed the thought away for… later.

For totally innocent purposes.

Totally.

Akira stood up and slipped in front of Akechi, demanding to be looked at. Giddy with his new discovery. “Oh? What’s this? He can dish it out but can’t take it?”

Akechi’s eyes flashed as he brought himself up to his full height, and stepped into Akira’s space. Scowling down the few centimeters he had on him, he forced Akira to take a step back. “You,” he said lowly, continuing to move forward, making Akira walk backwards until his back hit the counter, “are a brat .”

“Just figuring that out now, detective?” Akira smirked. “I thought that was obvious.”

From this close Akira could see just how gorgeous the detective’s eyes truly were. Flecks of light red dotted the center most part of his eyes, giving off the illusion of glittering in the light. He was close enough that if Akira leaned in a fraction more their noses would touch.

A very polite, soft cough came from somewhere on Akira's right.

The detective’s eyes widened in shock. He quickly put space between them again and turned to face Haru, who was standing in between the kitchen and the counter area looking anywhere but at them.

Akira owed her now a second apology.

“I wish both of you a good day,” Akechi gracefully recovered and turned on his heel. He flexed his shoulders as he opened the door but stopped with one foot out the door.

“Oh, and Kurusu-kun?” Akechi turned halfway to face him, “Be sure to check your email this afternoon.”

And then he was gone.

***

It’s Always Snack Time in Tokyo

SEPT 1ST  8:00 AM

[Takuto Maruki] Hello! I was going to wait until I saw you in person, but I can’t resist telling you the good news! I submitted the paperwork to bring on an official research assistant. The chair of the department should grant me an answer by the end of the week. The position is yours once I get the documented approval.

[Takuto Maruki] That is, if you are still interested in conducting research with me like you did over the summer

[Akira Kurusu] I am

[Takuto Maruki] Even more wonderful!

[Akira Kurusu] Won’t it be unethical if you don’t let other people apply for the position though?

[Akira Kurusu] You can’t play favoritism

[Takuto Maruki] I, fortunately, get to make the rules in this situation and I wrote that I could appoint the position to any student that met certain criteria and showed promise in the field

[Akira Kurusu] You literally wrote the position description so that only I fit that criteria, didn’t you

[Takuto Maruki] You would be correct! :D

[Takuto Maruki] So if you’re free and want to get a jump start on assisting, I was hoping to recruit you this upcoming Friday to proctor an exam.

[Akira Kurusu] An exam? The second week of class? Savage Sensei

[Takuto Maruki] It is a 300 level that meets M/W/F so the curriculum moves fast. This cohort in particular is grasping the concepts at a much faster rate than the other two I teach for this course.

[Akira Kurusu] When is it? I open the cafe Friday mornings

[Takuto Maruki] 2pm

[Akira Kurusu] Okay, I can make that work. I’ll be there

[Takuto Maruki] Wonderful! :)

***

The Phantom Thieves of Cats

SEPT 1st 11:12 AM

[Skull] yo i am not back readin any of that

[Skull] wat did i miss?

✧ Oracle ✧  Changed Skull to Edgelord Can’t Read

[Edgelord Can’t Read] I CAN EFFIN’ READ!!!

[Edgelord Can’t Read] i said i wasn’t gonna, not that i cant big difference

[Edgelord Can’t Read] ur the one who cant read

[✧ Oracle ✧] wow gr8 comeback edgelord im so offended. what r we 7yrs old

[Edgelord Can’t Read] shuddup

***

Gotta Go Fast

SEPT 1st 11:28 AM

[Skull] BRO A CATWALK?! WTF?!?

[Skull] how the eff did u get down??

[Joker] My amazing cat-like reflexes

[Skull] bro

[Skull] how u feelin btw

[Joker] You know that feeling you get when you’re about to go over the hill on a rollercoaster?

[Joker] Like that

[Skull] oof

[Skull] ill make u my ma’s soup when ur shifts over, its the best for this kinda shit

[Joker] Why is everyone being so understanding with me today

[Skull] were ur friends man we gotchu

[Joker] alsdjflskf

[Skull] uh did the rollercoaster drop or smth

[Joker] Haha no

[Joker] Thanks Ryuji

***

The Phantom Thieves of Cats

SEPT 1st 2:01 PM

[Edgelord Can’t Read] UH HOLY SHIT EVERYONE CHECK UR EMAILS

[Panther] what?? why??

[✧ Oracle ✧] im surprised u even read ur email

[Joker] Oh.

[Joker] Fuck.

***

To: Shujin Hall_5th Floor

From: Akechi Goro; Niijima Makoto

CC: Kawakami Sadayo

Subject: Violation of Dormitory Rules

Dear Fifth Floor Residents of Shujin Hall,

This is a friendly reminder that there is a strict No Pets Policy in this Residence Hall. A contraband item, a can of pet food, was located on the floor inside the trash room on Friday night. As such, we will be conducting room inspections beginning tomorrow, starting with rooms located in the Girls’ Wing. Let this be an example to all that the consequences for violating this rule will be termination of their dormitory agreement and the loss of their on campus housing status. Any additional charges will be determined by the Residence Hall Director, Kawakami Sadayo.

If you have any further information on this subject, please feel free to contact us.

We hope you have a wonderful rest of your weekend.

Sincerely,

Your Resident Assistants

Akechi Goro

University of Tokyo | Class of 20XX Criminal Justice / Psychology Major | Philosophy Minor AG710341@mail.u-tokyo.ac.jp

Niijima Makoto

University of Tokyo | Class of 20XX Criminal Justice Major | Psychology & Law Minor NM798448@mail.u-tokyo.ac.jp

[sickcyclist]

This is the story of my day. It actually starts yesterday, when a heaven-sent rain swept in and cleared the smoke and cooled the air and tamped down the dust on the trails. I went on a bike ride because days like that are a gift. I have exercise-induced hypoxemia, which basically means that my oxygen drops when I exercise for reasons that we still don’t understand. Exercising with oxygen helps, but I still drop into the mid-80s. I knew I was too sick to ride and that doing so would make me much more sick, but I needed it for my mind so I was willing to sacrifice my body.

So that’s the first lesson of being sick. Everyone tells you that you have to be active and it will make things better and all you have to do is just push yourself hard enough. We’ve internalized this message to the point that many people believe sick people could get better if they just PUSHED. But that’s not always true. Sometimes pushing makes you worse. Sometimes it makes you much, much worse. And that can be true even if being active and pushing hard is something you love so much that it feels like it’s core to who you are.

I knew I would have to sleep for 12+ hours to make up for the ride, and I knew that I would have bad oxygen saturation stats because of it. And since I don’t have a real job, it should be easy to just take a lazy day (or week, or month) and get better, right? But actually I do have a real job and that job is to keep myself alive. It’s the job of a lot of us who are chronically ill, and it’s not a profession I would recommend. It’s not fun and it’s not rewarding and no one admires you for it and you’re not asked to speak to 5th graders on career day and you rarely get to move on to a newer, more interesting project.

Here’s what this particular day at work looked like for me. I woke up to a voicemail saying that my pulmonology appointment for Friday had been cancelled. I’ve been waiting to see a pulmonologist since March and was supposed to have an appointment weeks ago, but that was cancelled because the doctor quit two days beforehand. The other doctor in town couldn’t see me until the end of October, so I looked for a doctor in a bigger town hundreds of miles away. She comes highly recommended and in a way I’m happy because I strongly prefer female doctors, but for whatever reason she had to “clear her morning.” My new appointment is five weeks from now. I got off the phone and sobbed, which is not a good thing to do when your lungs don’t work. I probably could have toughed it up and avoided crying if I hadn’t worn myself down so much biking yesterday, but such is life.

I emailed my primary care provider asking for a note saying I could travel with my portable oxygen concentrator. I was supposed to get this letter from my pulmonologist, but now I won’t have a pulmonologist before I travel. The letter has to say that I use oxygen for sleep and activity, but it also has to specify that I won’t use oxygen on the plane. Which is a little funny because airplanes have extremely powerful oxygen-producing systems for emergencies, but they don’t like people who need oxygen because they don’t like the risk that comes with having sick people on board (think emergency landings). So people who need oxygen all the time need their own oxygen concentrator and battery power for the equivalent of 1.5x the time they will be in the air. I’m going on an 8-hour flight and it would cost about $400 to get strong enough batteries for that length. So I need them to let me carry my machine, which has lithium ion batteries that are otherwise prohibited. But in order to carry my machine I need to prove that I won’t be needing it.

I have a great primary care provider. I knew she would write the note. Easy peasy.

My next voicemail was from the specialty pharmacy that my insurance provider uses for certain drugs. I am allergic to a hormone all women produce as part of the menstrual cycle. This allergy is so severe that it has been responsible for 5 miscarriages, and it also means that I’m more miserable than usual for half the month. The good news is that all you have to do to stop it is take out your ovaries, but when you do that you go into full menopause. Which is not desirable because it increases your risk of cancer and osteoporosis and just overall mortality. Like not even from one thing. Just people who go into menopause early die early from all causes and we don’t know why.

That gives you some perspective on what the benefits have to look like in order for the cost-benefit analysis to still auger in favor of ovary removal. But since it is such a serious choice, you have to be sure. And the way you make sure is to stop your ovaries from working with a drug. The drug has hideous short and long term side effects, so if you feel better while taking it, that’s a pretty strong sign that an oophorectomy is the choice for you.

Approval for me to receive this particular drug was in limbo because the provider accidentally entered the wrong diagnosis. I have, as you can imagine, a lot of diagnoses. Entering the wrong diagnosis in this case was particularly funny because I’ve spent the last 6 months fighting with Blue Cross to get an expensive medicine that helps with my allergies. This medicine (Xolair) is approved for chronic urticaria (hives). It is not approved for progesterone hypersensitivity. I have both, which means I itch a lot for two weeks of the month and itch so much that I want to peel my skin off for two weeks of the month. Blue Cross argued that I wanted the drug for progesterone hypersensitivity. No medical provider said that, but it was the diagnosis they could use to deny the drug. Xolair costs $4000 a month. At that price it’s worth it to them to grind people down and hope they give up. It took four appeals and my lawyer (husband) to get the drug approved because I do indeed have chronic urticaria. It’s worked wonders for me, especially being allergic to the sun. You have no idea how easy it is to descend into madness when you are itchy all the time.

I went over all this with my new OB. I explained that, while the allergy shot solved the itching, it didn’t fix any of my systemic problems, which is why I was still interested in removing my ovaries. And because the conversation focused on how this ovary-suppressing drug (Lupron) specifically wasn’t for urticaria, it’s perhaps not surprising that she accidentally listed urticaria as the reason for the prescription. It’s like when you’re afraid you’ll mispronounce someone’s name. You tell yourself, “Say Kee-a, not Ky-a,” so many times that you’re basically guaranteed to call the person Ky-a.

So my ovary medicine was denied, of course, but I contacted my doctor’s office last week explaining the problem and they were very quick to apologize and resubmit. I returned the call from the specialty pharmacy but apparently they had just wanted to let me know that they were sorry for the delay. It was very polite of them but maybe didn’t require a phone call.

Then I got an email from Blue Cross Blue Shield. I logged in to read that coverage had again been denied (no reason stated) and that if I wanted to appeal the decision I would have to appeal through their specialty pharmacy. They gave me the name and number. Of a different specialty pharmacy than the one I had been dealing with for the past month. The one that I had already wrangled account numbers and diagnosis codes and special customer service phone lines out of. I typed up a polite response inquiring why I need to change pharmacies. And then I cried, but only just a little this time.

Then I called Walgreen’s because my medication for muscle spasms had been delayed and I received a note saying the pharmacist needed to speak to me. I am hypermobile so my connective tissue is just a little too bendy. My joints slip in and out all the time and my muscles have to overwork to hold my body together. Frequently they overwork so much that they lock up. This happens much more frequently in the progesterone-dominant phase of my cycle. Physical therapy is the best treatment, but sometimes I need muscles relaxants before I can even start physical therapy.

The man I spoke to at Walgreen’s told me I didn’t have a prescription for that drug. Then he told me I had a prescription but it had expired in March of 2020. I knew that wasn’t true because I hadn’t used it for years but had to start again when I got COVID. So I had no prescription in March of 2020 but I definitely did in March of 2021. No big deal. Just a simple computer error. Totally understandable in a pandemic, and I knew my doctor would refill it anyway. But he apparently felt that it was a big deal and wouldn’t submit the refill to my provider. I have no idea why. Maybe he thought I was engaged in drug-seeking behavior. Or maybe he was having a bad day. But he wouldn’t submit the refill. I hung up the phone and screamed. Loudly. Which really is not a good thing to do when your lungs don’t work.

Murry came up and rubbed the spasm out of my shoulder and listened to me vent and offered to be my medical power of attorney so he could deal with these people for me. But he’s the one with the real job that earns real money and when I’m sick he also cooks and cleans and does the shopping and walks the dogs. I may not be any good at the shitty job I had, but there’s no way I’m going to make him do it.

I switched tactics and chatted with someone through the Walgreen’s app. He was lovely and had no problem submitting my prescription for a refill. Easy peasy.

My final task for the day was calling to find out about the status of my CPAP prescription. I don’t have sleep apnea but while I’m asleep my breathing does slow down significantly enough that my oxygen drops (hypopnea). I need a special CPAP that adjust the pressure to my breathing, but it will get me off of oxygen at night. I’m very excited for it.

My insurance does not require prior authorization for CPAP prescriptions. However, St. Pete’s has its own prior authorization department that I guess makes sure you are not lying about not needing prior authorization? This department is, apparently, understaffed. I called my oxygen “rep” to find out how it was going. She very kindly bypassed the prior authorization department and called Blue Cross directly. Blue Cross informed her, as had I, that a prior authorization was not necessary. She could officially get me a CPAP.

Except that there is a national CPAP shortage. So she will try her best to get me one as soon as they get more. Hopefully this month. Even the rare, wonderful people who try to help you are sometimes as helpless as you.

I didn’t cry this time. Crying doesn’t fix anything and I can’t risk losing more oxygen. So I turned to writing therapy instead.

This was a bad day at work, but there are rarely good ones. It sucks to be sick, but I’m smart, articulate, overly educated, wealthy, and white. It could suck so, so much more. Someday I’ll turn all of this knowledge that I never wanted into something that helps people other than myself. Until then maybe someone will read this and know they are not alone. If being sick is your job, I see you. I would give you a hug—or a bonus!—if I could.

[theladyofdeath]

Rags & Riches {4}

Summary: An A Court of Thorns and Roses Fanfiction. 19th century AU. Based on the prompt sent in by @cat5313 All characters belong to SJM, I am just a fan with a plot.

Warning: Mature content strung throughout.

A/N: If you don’t like smut, don’t read this.

Leave a comment to be tagged & tell me what you think! :)

Feyre was pissed the fuck off.

She hurried through the manor, completely over the ball. Once she found her room, she locked herself inside and plopped herself down on her bed.

Who the hell did Rhysand, Lord of Velaris, think he was?

He was so cocky, so entitled, so ridiculously suave that Feyre wanted to break something. Anything would do.

His wife?

Did he truly think she would want to be his wife?

Then again, what choice did she have?

She was the youngest daughter of Isaac Archeron. Very few of such a status paid attention to her. And even though she would rather spend her life as an adventurous nomad, she did not have such a luxury.

Rhysand’s proposal, if it could even be called that, was the only one that she had ever received and the only one that she would probably ever receive.Yes, she was lovely, but men wanted a woman with status. Being the youngest daughter, there was only so much that Feyre had to offer.  And yet, it was not his arrogance that made her so infuriated.

He was right.

She was drawn to him, and she wasn’t sure why.

He was handsome, of course, but was she so shallow that she only thought about his appearance? I mean, it was nearly all she knew about him.

He was handsome, and a total prick. And completely convinced that Feyre would become his wife.

Feyre didn’t believe that she would become his wife, and yet, there was a tingling in the pit of her stomach every time she thought about it. Their offspring would surely be beautiful. But that was beside the point. Feyre wondered if her father knew, if Rhysand had approached him before he had approached her. She doubted it, although the thought was rather charming. With a deep sigh, she took off her boots and slipped off her gown. It had been a long night, and she could no longer deal with the suffocating apparel she was forced to wear. As she dressed herself in her nightgown and pulled the pins from her hair, all she could think about was him. And it was shit, because she knew that was exactly what he wanted.

As she closed her eyes, she infuriatingly knew that one thing was certain.

Violet eyes would haunt her dreams. 

~~~~~~

“I think you’ve had enough,” Cassian muttered, but Nesta wasn’t listening.

She hadn’t been listening from the moment they stepped into the tavern. Except for the fact that Cassian had told her to remove the pins in her hair, which she had, and brought her hair back into a tight braid, instead, that could be better hidden beneath her hood - which she was to keep up at all times. Although they gained some suspicious glances, no one seemed to notice the eldest daughter of Lord Archeron. Cassian was certain they looked like common travelers, as long as no one studied the bottom of Nesta’s skirts poking out of the long, simple cloak. 

“One more,” she begged, words slurring as she took the full tin cup of ale to her lips. “Have you ever tasted anything so glorious?”

Cassian couldn’t help but chuckle. “Most think it tastes like piss.”

“And what do you think?” she asked, brows wiggling beneath her hood as she chugged.

“Definitely piss,” he said, nodding, agreeing with his earlier statement. 

“Well, I’ll let it slide that you keep saying piss in front of a woman of my stat-status because I feel so lovely.” 

She broke into a fit of laughter as Cassin took the cup from her and set it on the bartop in front of them.

“Should I pour her another?” the barmaid asked, leaning across the table to Cassian to the point in which her top slid down and gave him a glimpse of what laid beneath. 

Cassian’s eyes drifted from her breasts to her eyes, where he found she was glad he had noticed what he had. “No, thank you, she’s had enough.” 

The barmaid ran her fingers gently over the back of Cassian’s palm. “You know, if you would leave her be for a few moments, there is an empty room up above we could-”

“Although a very generous offer, Miss, I’m spoken for,” he said. 

“Miss?” she repeated, cheeks growing pink. “You speak very nice.”

Nesta stopped laughing, as just noticing what was taking place beside her. 

“EXCUSE me,” she said, hopping off the stool to her feet. “I would ask you to kindly take your hands off my escort.” Without waiting for the barmaid to do so, Nesta took it upon herself to take the maid’s hand off Cassian’s. “And cover your breasts! Do you have no shame?”

The barmaid leaned further over the bartop as if to say no. Nesta scoffed. “How appalling. Cassian, we are leaving.”

“Sorry,” Cassian apologized, sympathetic eyes finding the barmaid. “She gets...entitled when she’s drunk.”

“I see,” the barmaid said, eyes grazing over Nesta, who was now clapping along to the fiddles playing in the corner and the elderly man doing a step dance in the middle of the tavern. “A sloppy drunk, she is.”

Cassian snorted, agreeing as he pushed himself off his stool. He fished his hands into his pockets and cursed, realizing he had no coins. He leaned to Nesta and whispered into her ear. “Do you have the means to pay for your ale?”

Nesta snorted. “Oh, no, ladies do not carry coins.”

Cassian’s eyes landed on the slim silver bracelet that dangled from her wrist as she clapped. “Do this have any significance to you?”

Nesta looked at the bracelet, then to him, before ignoring both entirely and continuing to watch the show.

Cassian took her wrist, slipped off her bracelet, and continued to make a fool of herself as Cassian turned back to the maid. “Here, hope this covers it.”

Her blue eyes grew wide as she took the bracelet. “Thank you.”

Cassian gave her a nod, realizing the bracelet was worth enough shitty binge drinking for a month and took Nesta’s arm to drag her out of the tavern. She was still dancing as they entered into the dark night, the music growing muffled as the door closed behind them.

“How marvelous,” Nesta said, spinning around, holding her cloak out as if it was the world’s grandest skirt. “Wasn’t tonight just lovely?”

Cassian raised a brow as she stuck her arm through his. “I believe you are quite drunk, my Lady.”

“I love those words coming from your mouth,” Nesta slurred, as they walked back in the direction of Marigold. “My Lady. You have a very beautiful voice, stableboy.” 

“It is kind of you to think so.”

“You are very handsome, too. Much more handsome than all the men my father wishes to court me.”

Cassian looked down at her, her arm still looped through his. “Don’t you wish to be courted?”

“And become married?” Nesta laughed. “No. Absolutely not.”

She said the words so harshly that Cassian believed they weren’t true. 

“What of the man I saw with you the other night?”

Nesta’s eyes cut to him. “Tomas.” She spat the name. “Yes, I thought he would offer marriage. How foolish I was.”

“Why is that?” Cassian asked, seeing how much the ale would allow her to spill. 

“I have given myself to that bastard continuously for years,” she said, rolling her eyes. “And, of course, he was not all that bad at it, the love making. Great? Certainly not, but adequate. Not that I have any other man to compare him to. Anyway, after all that I had given him, I suspected he would offer marriage. Until tonight. At the ball.”

“I’m not following, my Lady,” Cassian said, attempting to show no surprise at what she had confessed in her drunken state. 

“He is now engaged,” Nesta slurred. “He is now engaged to a young, beautiful, proper woman, and I was just a toy he used. Although, I cannot say he was not a toy I used, as well.”

“Ah,” Cassian said, finally realizing what Nesta had been needing to get away from tonight. The only man she thought would offer her marriage was now engaged to another. In the eyes of her peers, if anyone were to find out she had already been with a man, she would be ruined. 

“Surely another man will offer marriage soon,” Cassian said.

Nesta cackled. “I am not actively seeking a husband, stableboy. However, my father would protest. He wishes to see his three daughters married to rich men. He is a man. We are women. Our word means shit next to his.” 

“A Lady should not curse.”

“I am not a Lady at the moment,” Nesta said, using the arm that was not looped through Cassian’s to gesture to the ghost town around them, as everyone was either in their home or at the tavern behind them. “I am but a low born woman without a care in the world.”

Cassian did not bother to correct her. Surely, the lower class had many problems, most of them financial. But, there was a certain freedom to it, especially for women. Many of the girls Cassian had grown up with were allowed to marry for love, his sister included when she became of age. He could easily see how a woman, such as Nesta, in the higher class would feel trapped. 

“Well, let us get you back home,” Cassian said as they reached Marigold. The mare huffed as Cassian pressed his forehead against the side of hers. “Yes, Mari, I missed you too. Take us home?”

The horse huffed once more as Cassian helped Nesta onto the saddle. She scooted forward, and Cassian mounted himself behind her. His broad arms wrapped around her and grabbed the reins. Nesta fell back against his chest, utterly exhausted, as Marigold began her trot back to the manor.

 ~~~~~

Elain had never been with a man before, but she had dreamt of this moment for so long, late at night, when the taste of his lips from their goodnight kiss still lingered on her tongue. Elain knew of Azriel’s past, of how he had been raised, and knew that the scars that covered his hands beneath those gloves, that covered his arms beneath his shirt sleeves, had come from the horrid man that had raised him throughout his young childhood. Elain’s delicate fingers trembled as they brushed those scars, first on his palms, then up his arms, across his chest, his back.

Azriel’s eyes fluttered shut at the gentle touch, as her fingertips explored the beauty of his pain and how he had overcome it. Elain’s heavy gown had long ago been dismissed, and she felt vulnerable in her thin underskirts and corset. Elain hated corsets. She only had to wear them for the grandest of occasions, but she was thankful for it now, as it was yet another piece of armor that shielded her body. She had dreamt of Azriel exploring her body, but had never dreamt it would truly happen. Now that the moment had arrived, knowing that he would see her in her truest nature had her heart nearly beating out of her chest.

She sat on the edge of her bed as Azriel knelt before her. He took her hand in his and kissed her palm, gently, before untying the silk ribbon that had been snuggly fit around her wrist. Once it fell loose, Azriel took her other hand and repeated the process. Then he took her foot and sat it upon his lap before reaching under her skirt and slowly slipping off her stocking, then the other. His eyes connected with hers with a question, and with a nervous nibble of her bottom lip, she nodded.

“If you want me to stop at any time,” Azriel whispered, “say the word, and I will.” 

Elain nodded, feeling more love for him than she ever had, which she truly hadn’t thought was possible. Azriel was a great man, a gentle man with a good heart, who had lived a life that none should have to live. He rose to his feet and held out his hand, which Elain accepted without hesitation. They stood together in front of the crackling fire, so close they could feel the heat of one another’s breath as Azriel’s scarred fingers reached for the lace bow, tied together perfectly at the top of her corset. He did not rush, but for the entirety of it, Elain could not breathe. Those fingers took their time as they pulled the laces out of the hooks, and with each one being freed, Elain’s heart beat faster. With her corset removed, Azriel stepped back to admire her in her thin, white shift. Elain took no movement to hide, and all fear faded as she gingerly reached up to pull her shift down from her shoulders. Azriel watched, perfectly still, save for his chest rising and falling, as the shift fell to the floor and she stepped out of it, that step taking her another step toward her beloved. Azriel reached out to admire her clear, ivory skin. The back of his fingers brushed down her cheek before pushing a stray strand of chestnut hair behind her ear. Elain watched him as his eyes hovered over her, his breathing heavy as his fingers trailed down to her shoulders, her collarbone, between her breasts.

Elain shuddered as Azriel stepped closer, his thumb brushing over her nipple, his warm, rough skin making contact with a part of her body in which no one had touched before sending a jolt to her very core. Elain didn’t dare speak, didn’t dare move, didn’t dare do anything to break his concentration. She watched him, quietly, as his eyes, soft and full of adoration, followed his fingers as they trailed to her waist, and back up her side.

Hazel eyes met brown, and Azriel took a step closer to her, but Elain quickly took a step back.

Azriel froze, eyes growing worried, as if he had done something to offend her.

Elain couldn’t help but smile, the reaction so like him that Elain couldn’t help it. She had no idea how a man such as he, whom she loved so adamantly, could possibly think that he could do wrong in a moment such as this. 

“I believe we should be equal,” she said, voice quietly above the cackling flames. When Azriel raised a brow, she glanced at his trousers, still hanging loosely from his hips. A small smile appeared on his thick lips as he nodded, meekly, before undoing the rest of the buttons and allowing his trousers to fall to the wooden floorboards. Elain knew her eyes widened but tried not to gawk at the hardened length of him. She had seen many paintings, of course, and even they had made her blush throughout the years. But here, a real man, a beautiful man, stood before her, completely bare, ready for her. And Elain had never seen anything so pure, so lovely, as he.

He took a step forward, tentatively, as if he was not quite sure how she would react. But she did not move, did not falter. 

“If at any time you wish for me to stop-” Azriel began, once more, but Elain shook her head.

“I do not wish for you to stop,” Elain said, taking a step forward of her own, meeting him halfway and taking his face between her palms.

She looked up at him and held his gaze. His eyes were so soft, so full of joy and love and bewitchment, that she had no doubt that he was the other half of her soul, given to her by the gods themselves. 

“If this shall be our only time, then let it be one to remember.”

Azriel let out a long, loose breath before a rare, genuine smile escaped him and those lips that she so lovingly admired pressed against her own. And as if they had been caged, parted for too long, that gentle kiss pressed into something more, as his broad arms wrapped around her slim waist and brought her closer. Her body pressed against his, and she could barely contain her hands from shaking as her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers burying themselves into the dark, messy mop atop his head.

Azriel grinned against her mouth as he lifted her up, and Elain couldn’t help but throw her head back and giggle as her legs wrapped around his waist.

“Shhh,” Azriel reminded her, laughing quietly himself, as he laid her down atop the rug in front of the fireplace in her bedchamber. Without putting on her his full weight, Azriel hovered above her, his elbows resting on each side of her head. They watched each other for a moment, their smiles fading as the silence resumed. Azriel shook his head, only slightly, as he brushed her wild hair back from her face.

“What?” she whispered.

Azriel’s lips pressed against her forehead before he leaned back up and said, “I love you.”

“And I love you,” she replied, her voice shaking - not because she did not believe that statement in her heart and soul, but because she knew what was coming next. Azriel pressed his forehead against hers. “If at any time-”

“If you tell me one more time that you will stop, I will throttle you,” she said, and he laughed, breathlessly, as she said, “I want you, right here, right now, and only you forevermore.” 

They did not allow themselves to think such a thing was impossible, for the future did not matter. All that mattered was the here and now, was the moment they were about to share. A moment that could never be taken from them, no matter the future. Her mouth found his, urgently, because waiting any longer was something she simply could not bear. Elain’s hands shakily trailed from his shoulders, down his back, to his firm backside where she tugged beckoning him forward. His breath became heavy against her mouth, his teeth grazing along her lower lip, struggling to contain himself.

Don’t, she thought, reaching between their bodies to stroke him, softly, teasingly.

A low growl tumbled from his mouth into hers, and Elain thrived on it. The only instruction she had ever had in this area came from a book that Nesta hid deep within her most personal belongings - a romance novel which she had purchased in town and kept out of the library, in case it had ever been discovered by their father. The girls had huddled into Nesta’s room one night, a rare night that they had spent together, reading the book and giggled and blushed at the pages’ descriptive scenes.

Now, she was not giggling at all. Blushing, perhaps, but there were many reasons for that. Her fingers wrapped around his cock and that growl returned as his tongue slipped between her lips, no longer gentle but longing, wanting, needing. Elain let the sounds flooding out of him guide her as the hand that held him moved, slowly but confidently. His hand soon found hers, and he guided her, moving faster, until his mouth pressed too firmly against her own, his tongue dancing so quickly alongside her own, that Elain was not certain where her mouth ended and his began. Azriel suddenly took himself off her, beckoning her hand to stop. She opened her eyes, and his own were wild, his cheeks flushed, as she was sure were her own. Azriel guided her hand up above her head, and did the same to her other, until she was lying flat on the floor, sprawled out like a masterpiece for him to worship. He leaned down to press his lips softly to her neck, just below her jaw, and down to her collarbone, where his tongue trailed to her shoulder, and back, until his trail of kisses fell lower, between her breasts, then his mouth found her nipple, his tongue circling the tender skin until he felt the other was left out, and happily and equally obliged. Elain’s fingers twisted into his hair as he trailed lower, the throbbing between her legs growing nearly unbearable as he spread them further apart, pressing his lips softly to the inside of one thigh, then the other. There was a pause in which he pulled away, though not very far, Elain still felt cold from the absence of his lips. But then his fingers softly felt her. He would be gentle, of course, knowing full well it was her first time. Yet, a part of her didn’t want him to be gentle at all. He stroked her with those beautiful, scarred fingers, once, then once more, before slipping one inside of her.

Elain gasped, but he went slow, was gentle. He pumped his finger inside of her, then added another finger alongside the first, and Elain’s breathing quickened, deepened, her arms falling back behind her head as he pleased her. But then his fingers fell away, and she nearly protested, until his mouth replaced them. This was not in the book, but Elain had no idea why, because the feeling nearly had her floating on air. A long, deep moan tumbled from her lips that she could not control as his tongue swept between her folds in a slow, repetitive movement. Her back arched, and her knees began to shake as that tongue circled her clit. The moment he began sucking was the moment Elain Archeron became completely undone. She had not realized she could feel so free, had not realized such pleasure existed. When his mouth left her sex, she nearly whimpered, but he crawled back up her body, only stopping once his cock was perfectly in place, the tip pressed against her opening.

“Please,” she begged, hiking her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, to pull him closer. 

Azriel pushed himself into her slowly. 

Elain gasped, eyes flying open as he continued to push, until he couldn’t fall into her any farther. He stayed like that a moment before slowly pulling himself out, then pushing himself back in with just a little more force. His eyes remained on hers, but Elain couldn’t help from closing her eyes, from dwelling in the pleasure of her love inside of her, from whispering his name, over and over again.

Azriel. Azriel. Azriel. 

He thrived on it, unable to stop his own sounds from breaking the quiet. They were meant to be keeping silent, but it was impossible. Azriel bit down on his lip as Elain pressed her hand against her own mouth, muffling the moans that she could not keep within. Elain had imagined many times what sex would feel like, what it would be like. She had dreamt of sharing this moment with Azriel, but none of those dreams had her thinking it would feel so good, would be so beautiful. They had become one. There was no Elain and Azriel, but a new being in which they had shedded their old selves and created a new one together. The future did not matter when they were in that new self, the future did not exist. All that existed in all the world, in all the realms, was the two of them, bodies intertwined, hearts and souls connected. 

And when it was over, that bond did not break.

They laid together, beneath a quilt, next to the fireplace as the early hours of the morning approached and went by. He stroked her hair as she grew tired, smiling faintly, unable to do anything else. 

“I love you,” she whispered, barely audible above the flames.

“I love you,” he repeated, in equal quietness. 

She knew he would have to leave soon, and that thought lingered in the back of her mind, but she tried her best to push it away. 

And yet, when she awoke the next morning as the sun was rising on the horizon, completely unaware when she had fallen asleep in Azriel’s arms, woke up alone. Her body still bare, the fire had died down long ago, the absence of him was agonizing.

But a small glimmer of hope sparked when she noticed her name written sloppily atop a note, sitting where his body had been lying only hours before.

She gathered the quilt against her body as she opened it up and read what was inside.

I love you, now and always. If that would be our only time, I shall never forget a moment of it. 

A

Elain neatly folded the note and ran it to her bedside table, where she hid it inside of her journal. 

Now and always.

If only always were as easy as it had been the night before. 

~~~~~

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