#the next minute i'm wondering why I can smell more of the thing I've just finished eating like someone's making more lol

[foreignobjecticus]

[spencerscoven]

the alternate … art donaldson

Art has a proclivity for giving attention to his enemy. He hates her— but particularly hates how she has Patrick wrapped around her finger even more.

warnings ; smut .. slutty drunk freshman art x Patrick's gf, infidelity .. unedited for now! oops!

It didn’t take much time for Art to settle into Cornell— it wasn’t just the tennis or the girls, of which he quickly learned were rather women, or even the academics. His hesitation on his attendance was especially foolish, especially in moments like these as he rolled over, crushing the red solo up beneath him. The buzzing in his jean pocket persisted, just like it had for the last five minutes before, causing him to utter another affirmation to ignore it into her mouth.

Maybe the women had one or two things to do with it.

"Maybe just get it?"

"Why?"

"So you... can tell them you're busy."

He hummed into her mouth as the girl above him detached herself, moving to grab the stitch of her top to remove it as he tilted his hips to reach for his phone.

Patrick.

His calloused hands came up to push her thighs over his hips, sitting up to read the rapid series of text Patrick had sent. And Art soon saw— was still sending. All of them ranged from different ways of him asking Art to check up on you, letting your attendance be known. Patrick's texts detailed the simple request of him checking to see if you were taking your alcohol well. Another saying he hoped you wouldn't get roofed. And one that blatantly asked that he didn't let any of "those Ivy League assholes" fuck his girlfriend.

Art rolled his eyes, resentment laced in his actions as he muttered condolences and pledged to "be right back", his large hands taking the knob of the door and peering out into the dark hallway to find you. When a look wasn't enough, he left the room door slightly ajar, stepping completely into the hallway filled with red cups, colored lights, almost sidetracked by his team that pulled him by the neck and fought to put a drink in his hand. With a light smile still gracing his face and beer in a can, his eyes wondered up to your face, watching as your lips wrapped around a bottle of Corona, some leaking out the side of which you swiped away with the back of your hand. He felt the same kind of resentment he usually felt when he saw you when Patrick visited fill him from his chest out. He watched as you leaned against the wall talking to someone. He took in your skimpy skirt and top with less resentment, though.

He especially didn't like it when the next time he looked for your face, you were staring at him, eyes hooded and smile nasty and condescending.

"He told me to look for you."

"I know." You raised your eyebrow dismissively, almost wanting to laugh at Patrick's good intentions. He knew what you'd say about Art. Just like you assumed what Art said about you, yet he asked him anyway.

"And by that, he means look after you." Art leans in, lips close to your ear as the music sounded. You roll your eyes as he lingers there a moment too long and you expect him to say something more, but he never does.

"We both know I look fine."

It takes a beat before he responds. "We both do."

"And we both know you don't want to babysit."

"But I'm a good friend."

"I've known corrupt politicians that are better friends than you, Art."

He sways away from you, facing the rest of the party as he rolls his eyes with the kind of insularity he only reserved for you, tipping his head back to finish the rest of his beer and tossing it towards the trashcan, only to miss.

He turns to you, irritation flaring as he stabilizes himself on the sticky wall behind him by holding your hips. It's something you're willing to let go of, your breath clicking as he whispers: "You smell like pot."

"It's a free country."

"Okay," he challenges, pursing his lips as he leans closer. "What's in your cup?"

"What? Yours and Chelsea's not good enough for you?"

His upper lip raises, in a look of both disgust and toleration as he grasps your wrist, forcing you to bring your own bottle to his mouth. The contents of it are mostly able to be swallowed but the rest flow from the corners of his lips, down his chin, to his throat where his Adams apple bobs as he swallows. You wipe it instinctively, causing you to both freeze for only a moment. He shutters before he opens his mouth again to slur,

"Chelsea?"

You look at him quizzically, your mouth opening once, twice, three times, only to say nothing but erupt in laughter that rocks your head backwards and your body closer to his. Art looks around frantically, his mouth tilting downwards as he looks around, grasping your hips forward and gritting his teeth as he repeats himself.

"Chelsea? What's the fucking joke I'm not getting?"

"The girl that you just— my fucking god, Art. I know you look the way you do, but you couldn't even remember her name?" You tilt your head towards the doorway, insinuating the room you're sure his cologne still lingered in. He groans, his head falling forward in a laugh as his right hand on your hip runs up the side of your torso, his head spinning.

"I'm not a very good date, am I?" You can nearly taste the alcohol on his tongue and you're out of laughs, humor gone as a consequence of being so close to him. And maybe he's too drunk to realize it's happening, but you're too cross to care when his thumbs rub circles on your hipbone, of which he had to invade underneath your waistband to do.

"I almost finished my night like this." It's so quiet that you're unsure if it was for you to hear. But it doesn't matter, as your hand runs up his arm and shoulders, eyes following over the ripples.

"This is not the same."

Your other hand trickles down to his waistband, guiltily skating over his bulge as you feel his pocket for his phone.

"Arthur, Patrick told you to check on me. So, tell him I'm okay."

"I told him that I'd check on you. I also told him you were a bad idea, like I always do," He saws it lowly, as if it's not supposed to slip out and has only found it's way because of his level of intoxication. You scoff, pushing him backwards as you're suddenly slightly more sober. You rock back and forth, eyes rolling back, but the distance is not created before you can hear him finish: "but I never said he didn't have good taste."

You don't like that it's still said in the way only drunk and resentful Art could deliver it. "You're not a very good fucking friend."

"To who, you?" He makes it his personal duty to invade your space, his face in somewhat of a snarl. You know that some would see this as uncharacterized for Art, but it's most familiar to you. It feels somewhat like home. Albeit, a house fire, but home.

Your first encounter with him was glancing behind yourself at move in, and seeing his blonde locks brushed back by calloused hands as he looked at you, then to your racket.

Your second encounter was only minutes later, when he stood next to his raven haired friend who asked for your number as he rolled his eyes with a knot in his jaw, as if he didn't find you worthy. He tugged on the shirt of his friend, telling him there were better things to do. Better, he had said.

And that never made much sense to you. Because in your relationship with Patrick, there had always been the inconsequential three.

"You're not my friend," You begin, mind calculating how many rooms and doors of Cornell's largest final club you'd have to go before finding somewhere, anywhere, that would fit just you. "Never was."

Art's only silent for a moment, nose flaring and eyes squinting. his shoulders are tense, and if you were to look down you'd see his hand balled in a fist.

"What? What now, Art?"

"You never gave me your number."

He watches as your eyes furrow in confusion, the heat in your eyes rising rather than deflating. And he speaks again:

“You gave it to Patrick. But you never gave me your number.”

Without your bottle, your hands search for something to do, blinking frantically. They resort to touching yourself in the same places he just had, your fingers running down your torso quickly, your hip bone. When you touch your shoulder is when the two of your gazes meet once again. Art watches through blue as you nod your head slowly in both horror and understanding.

You're quick on your feet. He's watched countless of your matches, even when he had no business doing so. But he is too. So when a short string of curses land out of your mouth and you march down the hallway, he's on your heels.

And all you can think is that you know his gaze better than any other. It wasn't something you intended but through these sporadic games, your body and soul had bargained to be familiar with Art more than any other. If he leaned against the net or lunch table, it became the kind of resourcefulness of movement that was so particularly him. It was rare you called on him, yet necessary when it was a matter of Patrick. He was always there, steadfast and urgent. It'd be days before you learned of the lecture he missed because of it. And while your boyfriend was off being a pro, Art never was slow to tell you how good his female counterparts around him were, while you were "only barely whopping college ass".

But somehow he was always there. You found his gels and handle tape in your tennis bag. You had more than half your dining points still because you were just "a casualty of being present” when he was buying his own lunch. And it all made you feel as if he was just very...

"You're a fucking con artist," You shoved him against the door of which he only narrowly made it "A fucking wolf in sheep's clothing."

It made you even angrier that he was stronger than you but willing to let his body fall back, lips pierced in a thin obedient line as his back hit the door repeatedly under your assault until he grasped both your forearms, holding them closely together. A wince escaped your mouth, his strength relenting and becoming lighter but still he held you. He leaned down, attempting to meet your face that now focused on the hardwood below.

"I know I'm the bad guy. Still, what's it gonna be?"

You didn't look up at that. But you did at the vibration that sounded in his pocket just seconds later. There were always three.

Art doesn't waste a moment to release your arms, wrapping his own in an enclosure around your head to reach your lips, tugging you impossibly close to him. You can't help but not move-- letting him twist your head and invade your lips. It's only until you release a small moan you latch back.

After Art's kiss, your night was haunted. It was distorted beyond your eyes' power of correction. So when a pair of lips landed on yours again, you came back home. You gave in.

His hands ran down your body, invading each and every corner of you. Your hips, your waist, the small of your back, the back of your thighs which he used to hoist your body upwards and against the doorframe, caging you. As the wet kisses sound on your neck, you look past his head to the room you two now occupied, no bed. Just various pieces of miscellaneous covered in cream sheets. When you look towards the window, releasing another whimper as you feel his middle and index finger prod at your cotton panties, you can see dust aligning with the moonlight.

Like everything else he does, he's good at the way he touches you. No, nearly instinctual. Art's fingers curve and level themselves out inside of you, yet he leaves his palms frigid, rubbing your clit back and forth with the surface of it. It makes you all so weak, Art murmuring your name as the two of you lower to the floor, you're suddenly reminded of the urgency of the matter.

"Art, I need--"

"I know,"

I know,

I know,

I know.

He repeats the sentiment into your skin and it almost makes your eyes brim with tears as you feel his bulge covered by denim slot against your soaked underwear. The feeling is delicious, so you excuse your decorum when you buck your hips against his. You watch as he detaches himself from you, the depth of his blonde hair twinkling in the moonlight. His lips and chin are swollen and wet from your messy kisses that appeared to be more tongue than anything. He lifts your hips to remove your skirt on his own once he catches the way your eyes watch him, still. He looks at you, sick with the same fever, but now you're not quite sure what this illness even is.

His hands move to tug your shirt up, yet you push his hands away, making them double up on his belt as both of you scramble to slide his jeans below his ass. You also help him when he leans to grab your right leg, sliding it up and against his hip as he sways above you. You watch as he thinks, only for a moment, places a feather right kiss on your knee, whispers something you can't hear, and promptly shoves his dick inside of you.

The force of it slams your head against the door, the hinges rattling but the surprise of his size makes it so you hardly notice. You close your eyes immediately until you're struck with the realization that you hope this never happens again. You hope you're never drunk enough, or lucky enough to have your boyfriend's best friend's dick rocking you back and forth ever again. You near your eyes open, willing to at least let yourself savor what little you have now, gazing in the middle of you two where you can see him disappear inside of you repeatedly.

Art huffs above you as your name escape his lips repeatedly as if it hadn't been the first time. You find yourself unable to cope, grabbing the hardwood until you realize there's not much give. So you resort to firmly biting his shoulder between your gasps and yelps. which only surges him on to drive into you faster, his hips snapping and the sounds of both your flesh filling the room.

You feel his clammy hand reach for the hair at the nape of your neck and you allow yourself to submissively follow regardless of your confusion. Art's breath mingles with yours as he asks:

"Is it good?"

You don't answer.

"Does it feel good?"

Your brows furrow together as you nod your head up and down as if you’ve been doped, chest heaving uncontrollably. He meets your lips and it feels as if he's kissing you solely for himself as he drags his hand on your cheeks and forehead, ridding your face of your sweat and hair. His other hand circulates your clit with a firm hold and you feel the familiar sensation approaching. Your skin felt both as cold and hot as it ever had, your teeth penetrating your bottom lip, biting Art in the process.

"I don't think we should do this.." You spit out quietly in intervals, because it feels like the right thing to say right before you come all over his cock and he leans down to look at the mess you've made in bliss. The results that it gives are fruitful, as you feel his fingers' relentlessness on your clit still. But you can tell he's struggling to stay where he is, trying to milk every moment he can inside of you.

You use your feet to push his hips back, arms reaching above your head as you untangle your limbs. Your legs remain sprawled out on his thighs, of which lay on his calves. The silence between you two is like molasses, and he stares at your core as you brush your socked toes against his abdomen, then cock.

You see a frown form on his face, but you're also met with the needy repeated rise of his hips that meet your foot and help you grind against him. You watch in awe as his eyes don't leave yours, confusion filling the air. You bring your feet faster, rubbing against his tip and watch as Art's whimper fills the air and his cum shoots to his lower stomach and your sock, his eyes closing, throat repeatedly bobbing as he rides his high. You watch as the thrusts into you become increasingly slower until they stop completely and the two of you are left still once again. You marvel in the way it seems almost as if he always gets what he wants. And Art isn't quite sure of what to make of you at all anymore, with his ears ringing and chest warm.

On his knees, he cascades towards your body that slumps against the door frame. He moves towards you slowly at first, hesitating if you wanted any of this at all. But you don't decline the warmth of his chest as he pulls you in, wordlessly. You let him bury his nose to your scalp as he takes you in.

And you both agree that if this may be a story of tonight alone, you both might as well melt indistinguishably into it once again.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Happy 500! 🩵 I feel like "best friend's brother" and the Millers is something smutty just waiting to happen, maybe? 🫢

Best Friend's Brother.

y. Best Friend's Brother

Author's Note - this is a drabble written as part of my 500 Followers Celebration!! find that post here. thank you for this request!! another one for my will girlies - love you all <3

Pairing - Will Miller x Female Reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - smut!! + cursing

Word Count - 900

Masterlist. 500 Follower Celebration Masterlist.

You've known Benjamin Miller since you were a teenager.

He's been there through thick and thin, love and loss, good and bad.

He makes you laugh until you cry, happily watches awful movies with you, and loves to make you breakfast for dinner. He knows you like the back of his hand, and vice versa. He's the best friend you could ever ask for.

He also has the most beautiful brother in the world.

William Miller is the bane of your existence. Golden hair, big blue eyes, gleaming smile. He's aged like a fine wine, and damn have you noticed. You love Benny more than anything, and you'd never do anything to jeopardise that. But my god... it's tempting.

You're one too many tequilas down when you realise you're wobbling. You're holding onto the bar's bathroom sink for balance, attempting to keep yourself upright. You pull out your phone and call Benny, your designated taxi driver.

"Hello?"

"Benny. Baby. I am drunk! So drunk. The room is spinning, actually. Bathrooms don't spin, right?"

"Sweetheart, this is Will. Benny left his phone at my place. Where are you? You need me to come and get you?"

"Will! Hey Will. Wonderful Will. I am drunk. Very drunk."

"You may have mentioned that," he chuckles. "Where are you?"

"O'Lockes, I think. You know the place with the lights? The pretty lights?"

"Yeah, I know the one. Stay there, okay? I'm coming."

He gets to you within 20 minutes, which means he can't possibly have followed any of the speed limits. You're sat on the bench waiting outside when you see his truck pull up.

"Hey, you."

"Hi, William. Beautiful boy. God, you're the best."

"Thank you," he chuckles.

He gets out of the truck and jogs around to the passenger side to help you in.

"Chivalry isn't dead, huh?" you giggle. "Such a gentleman. How are you single? Why are you single? Do you want to be? You don't have to be. Every single girl in that bar would swoon for you, William."

"Alright, this feels like 20 questions. You need help with that seat belt?"

Will reaches over and buckles you in. His face is so close to yours, you can smell his toothpaste. The tiny part of your brain that's still rational begs you not to kiss him.

He jumps into the drivers side and starts up the engine. He turns up the heat so you're warm enough, and turns the music down so it isn't too loud. You curl into the heated seat and sigh contently, sobering up pretty quickly.

By the time he's pulling into your driveway, you can't feel the tequila anymore. You're warm, you're happy, and you're madly in love with the man sitting next you. What could go wrong?

"Hey Will?" you ask when he cuts the engine.

"Yeah, honey?"

"Why are you single? I'm not trying to be nosy. Just curious."

"Curious, huh?" he drawls, smiling gently at you.

"I mean - I've never heard you talk about a girlfriend, or even going on a date. Ever since I've known you, you've been practically always single."

"Yeah. Dating isn't really my thing, I guess. Too much effort."

"Too much effort? Will, I've never heard you say anything is too much effort."

He chuckles, and you laugh along with him.

"I don't know. Maybe I'm just waiting for a certain someone."

Your heart skips a beat.

"Anyone in particular?" you ask, toeing the line.

"Maybe," he mutters. "Maybe."

He leans in over the centre console and presses a sweet kiss to your lips. You thread your hands into his hair and pull him closer, desperate to feel all of him. He grabs your hips and pulls you into his lap, rocking you back and forth.

You whine and the sound shoots straight to his core. He groans in response, tongue licking into your mouth. You shakily unbutton his jeans, pulling your skirt up around your waist.

"Should we go inside?" you pant breathlessly.

"Can't wait that long," he replies quickly. "Need to feel you now."

You pull him out of his underwear and lower yourself down, the both of you moaning in unison. The angle is a little awkward and you accidentally bump your head on the roof of his truck, but neither of you can find it in you to stop.

You set a steady rhythm, rising and falling with determination. Will helps you, grabbing at your hips and moving you as he pleases. You drop your forehead to rest against his, sweat mixing and breaths mingling.

"Oh, fuck," you whine.

"Yeah, baby. Keep going. You're doing so good. Don't stop, yeah?"

"Not stopping," you reply. "Never stopping."

Will moves his thumb to rub circles between your legs, causing you to breathlessly pant his name like a prayer.

"So close, Will. So close."

"Come on, honey. Give it to me. I can feel it. Yeah, that's it."

You fall over the edge with a moan, gripping at his hair. You tug a little harder than intended, but it does the trick, sending him into his own climax. He's groaning your name, and you're convinced the sound will be ingrained in your mind forever.

You're both panting, chests heaving. Then, you burst into a fit of giggles. It seems to be contagious, because Will joins you.

"What?" he asks through the laughter.

"How the fuck are we gonna tell Ben?"

[jealousmartini]

✦ My average schedule + Get ready with me on a random college day as an art student and an LOASS babe ⊹₊ㆍ👜

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Long ass post ahead

FYI!! We only have 4 days of college, so we get Friday off. My longest days in college are Monday, 11:15 am to 4:45 pm (depending on if we have tutorial first thing. If not, we will come in at 1 pm), and Tuesday, 11:15 am to 4:15 pm. My shortest days are Wensdays, 11:15 am to 3:00 pm and Thursday, 9 am to 12:30 pm. The days that are shorter than the others (mainly Thursday) are the ones that I prioritise focusing on extra work after hours. It is super important to me to use my Thursday free time for extra research/analysises/art work at home so I can so I can stay ahead and not fall behind in class

╰┈➤ " She's an overachiever " click here!

«───────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────»

GRWM! The longest day of the week, Monday!

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The goal is to get a bus around 10:25 am to 10:45 am in order to get to college at 11:15 am

[ 000 :: Getting up ]

✦ I wake up at 9:15 am and immediately make my bed because no one likes to come home to an untidy bed.

✦ And then my first favourite thing I do is wonder what I wanna smell like today, I take out my specifically scented body wash, 2 in 1 shampoo, hair gel, body cream, deodorant (preferably scentless), and perfume with the scent I chose and then I do my blanket affirming in my 15-20 minute shower. After the shower, I moisturise my body with my scented body cream, spray deodorant, and move onto my clothes.

[ 001 :: Getting dressed ] — estimated time 9:35

✦ I love dressing up. At this point, I do my best not to overthink what to wear because I know I will be there forever, making multiple outfits but never choosing one. So I focus on what style I'm going for and pick out my clothes, always being mindful of the colours of course and then put them on

✦ Next I decide wether or not I want to wear make up (more times yes than no) but before I do my usual make up look, I quickly do my skin care routine to protect my skin and then I do my cutesy girlie make up all while affirming my blanket affirmations

✦ And then I move on to do my hair. Because I have super curly hair, depending on what style I want, it takes a bit of time to manage. So I usually settle with doing something simple like brushing my curls out into a fro and then putting it into a bun or puffs, or I leave my curls defined and either leave my hair down or put it in a bun, space buns or a tail type which usually takes me 10-15 minutes, taking us up to 9:55-10 o'clock.

✦ But if I'm feeling ambitious, I'll straighten/blow out my hair and do a straight hairstyle. I usually go for bantu knots, spikey buns (my signature half up, half down), pigtails/ponytails, or leave it down. Doing this would take me around 15-20 minutes, taking us up to 10 o'clock to 10:10.

[ 002 :: Breakfast time ] — estimated time 10:00

✦ It's always important to start your day with a satisfied stomach, which is why I always make sure I know what I want to eat for breakfast and if I want to eat a lot. Once I've made my breakfast, I like to look over the work I have already done on my ipad to see what more could be added while I eat.

✦ I try not to eat too slowly or take too much time doing tiny bits of extra work because I still need to brush my teeth and get my bag (which is always already packed). When I have finished my food, brushed my teeth and got my bag, I should be at the door by 10:30 to 10:45

[ 003 :: Ready to leave ] — estimated time 10:40

✦ I don't live far from my bus stop, so it usually takes me around 5-6 minutes to walk there, and then around 25 minutes to get to college on the bus.

✦ But sometimes my man best friend drives to my house to pick me up and then we both go to college together. I don't know which one I prefer the most to be honest but going by car is definitely a lot quicker (given that there isn't any traffic) and I just love beening in the presence of my boyfie bff

[ 004 :: College hours ] — estimated time 11:15

✦ Hurray we arrived on time! Looking delicious and smelling delicious. Now it is time to get to class and get a load of work done like the overachiever I am.

✦ Lunch time comes around and I leave the classroom to the couch area where my (girl) best friend is waiting for me. We chat and eat and chat some more until it's time to part ways back to class.

✦ Another more than generous amount of work gets done be me and my two super cool art besties, I'm sure the same can be said for the rest of the class but this isn't about them rn.

There's five people per table in my class, but only two tables in the middle have the ten of us, the other 3 tables are empty because we're a small class but I sit along side my two good classmates on the left side. We are very attentive, concentrated, and skilled art students. We always check up on each others art and written work, giving each other ideas and such. We are even jokingly referred to as "competition" by two of our other classmates (im not a fan of those two but it is what it is)

[ 005 :: Home time ] — scheduled time 4:45

✦ Sometimes, college can be grueling. Especially on Mondays. So to be able to have a close friend group to reunite with after the last hour of college is so so comforting. ESPECIALLY WHEN ITS AUTUMN/WINTER SEASON because it gets really dark in the late afternoon very quickly and I always prefer to go home with company in these seasons.

✦ I take the same bus as I did to college back home with my friends, usually right after getting a snack together and because we are a group of four (six if i include boy bestfriends sister and her boyfriend), none of us have to worry about strangers sitting next to us.

The bus drive home is always relaxing and in my opinion fun too.

[ 006 :: Arriving home ] — estimated time 5:10

✦ First day of the week done. Time to unwind, clean up, eat, relax and sleep. As soon as I get back home, I love to have a quick gossip with my mum about my day and get unready with my best friends of face time

There's this very common belief that you always have to talk of face time, but that's not all ways true. Me and my friends just like to have each others presence in silence, occasionally being nosy every now and then about what's for dinner, what's on TV and that's about it. Nothing more nothing less and its perfect that way.

I inform my friends I'm off to get a shower, I like to use my scentless soaps and body creams for bed time or maybe some light essential oils like lavender, I get out and throw an oversized T on because I don't like sleeping with bottoms on, yank my pink bonnet over my curls, slip my feet into some fluffy pink sliders and whatever I choose to do with the rest of my evening is random and spontaneous depending on what I'm in the mood for in the comfort of my home that I manifested ♡

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જ⁀➴. And that's my average GRWM/schedule of a random day on a random college day as an artist and an LOASS babe ⊹₊ㆍ♡⋆₊˚⊹ I dunno if you could tell but this was secretly a vault lmao

[disco-elysium-via-polls]

🎵 Disco Elysium

2. "Absolutely. Superstars always get back up and try again."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Then let's go."

-1 Reputation

Painted with pastels. Someone is trying to bring cheer into the world.

ACELE - "So, like..." The girl on the ice looks up at you. "Seriously, what's eating you, man?"

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - There is a hint of pity in her eyes.

PERCEPTION [Easy: Success] - Her hair is dyed blonde, with dark roots showing, and she wears thick black eye-liner. Most men wouldn't call her pretty -- there is a manliness to her. A coarseness.

"Yeah, can we talk for a minute?"

"What's your name?"

"What's that device you have there?"

"What are you doing out here in the cold?"

"You seem surprisingly comfortable with being questioned. Why's that?"

"Actually, that's it for now." [Leave.]

ACELE - "I was wondering when you would come around. What's up?"

"I guess... there is something... that's been making my life hell."

ACELE - "What is it?" She listens intently.

"I think it's the plight of the working class."

"Everyone's just mooching off the entrepreneurial class. Shackling the *doers*."

"I think it's… all these *foreign people* taking our jobs."

"People just keep putting their selfish interests ahead of the greater good."

+1 Communism

ACELE - "Oh, really?"

"The golem of capital runs rampant, smashing creator and slave alike. I fear the process is irreversible."

ACELE - "So, the thing that's got you crying in front of strangers... is social justice?"

"I haven't seen much of this world, but from what I've seen *social justice* is an adolescent term. Sounds almost liberal… what's got me shaken up is the *people's struggle* and it's got me shaken up *bad*."

"No, that's probably not it, is it?"

"Yeah, pretty sure. Now, I had some questions about something else entirely."

ACELE - "Yeah, man, they're pretty bad," she says, without much conviction.

"It makes me sick, thinking about the thousands... millions... billions? How many people are there, actually?"

ACELE - "Um..."

"How many people are there in the world?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "Three-point-six billion, not counting those on Seol."

"Really? That many?! Reduces me to tears thinking of the 3.6 billion and god knows how many more in that Seol place, crushed under the tyranny of the market."

ACELE - "Yeah, that's pretty bad," she nods. "Are you sure you're not just hung up on some chick though?"

VOLITION [Easy: Success] - Hmmm... *perhaps*?

"Now that you mention it, I found these letters I'd thrown in the trash. They *might* have something to do with it."

"I'm positive. Now, I had some questions for you before all this started."

ACELE - "Okay, why do you think that?"

"First, they had just the faintest scent of chewing gum on them. I could still smell it under the… shit."

"They were written in a woman's hand. And oh boy did reading them make me not feel good."

"To hell with this. Questions -- I had them. And you have answers."

ACELE - "Wow, man." She raises her eyebrow. "That's pretty symbolic, don't you think?"

"Yes, I found that to be very symbolic too."

"No. Why?"

ACELE - "Used to be sweet, now it's shit -- seems pretty symbolic to me. Anyway, what else?

"They were written in a woman's hand. And oh boy did reading them make me not feel good."

ACELE - "There you have it then -- chick trouble. Not political after all. Who was she?"

"I don't remember."

"No idea. Haven't seen her, definitely haven't *called* her. I don't remember a single thing about her."

ACELE - "Really?" She appears to believe you. "You seem pretty upset about this *chica*... are you sure you don't remember anything about her? Eyes? Hair colour?"

"I remember her scent and that's all."

"Yup. Next to nothing."

ACELE - "Wow, man. That's some pretty strange shit..." She rubs her sides for warmth. "Are you sure the letters were for you?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. Why would I have reacted so strongly otherwise?"

"Come to think of it -- the *whore* could have written them to her *lover*!"

ACELE - "How come you don't remember though? Is it, like, some selective memory thing?"

"Wait, what do you mean by *selective memory*?"

"I think it's more about me getting so unbelievably drunk I completely erased all memory of this world."

"Wait, what do you mean by selective memory?"

ACELE - "Man, when I get hurt I just wanna forget that shit, you know? That kind of selective memory."

"I think it's more about me getting so unbelievably drunk I completely erased all memory of this world."

ACELE - "Yeah. Or it might be that. This one time I did so much... booze that I forgot, too..."

LOGIC [Easy: Success] - It's obvious she's "done" more than "booze."

ACELE - "Or it might just be psych bullshit, you know? Königstein wank."

"What is this *Königstein wank*?"

"Alright, I had some questions for you."

ACELE - "You know: the psych thing they've got going on there. Rich people like it. People in Königstein are mostly rich."

"Thanks for the bullshit psych thing then."

"You know, I'm not sure this made things any better."

"Alright, I had some questions for you."

ACELE - "You're welcome." She thinks for a second, stretching her jaw. "Might be for the best to keep that shit forgotten though. Just my opinion. If it itches, don't scratch."

+5 XP

PAIN THRESHOLD [Easy: Success] - Yes, but it itches really, really bad...

2. "What's your name?"

ACELE - "Acele."

"And your surname?"

"Acele who? I'm not a young suitor, this is official police business."

ACELE - "Why?"

"Did I not say I was from the police? It's for the paperwork."

"Why indeed? Forget it."

ACELE - "Okay..." She hesitates. "It's Berger."

LOGIC [Medium: Success] - A very common name.

3. "What's that device you have there?"

ACELE - "This?" She breathes on her freezing fingers. "It's a portable recording device. It's for field recording. Low quality, but still."

"And the wires?"

ACELE - "Actually just one wire, I picked on it till the braiding came loose. The wire leads to a contact microphone."

"What's a 'contact microphone'?"

"Got it."

ACELE - "A contact mic records sounds from inside things. Like this ice."

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Medium: Success] - Your mangled brain would like you to know there is a boxer called Contact Mike.

Yeah? Any news on my wife's name? How about my mother?

What am I supposed to do with this?

ENCYCLOPEDIA - Nope.

You're welcome.

"Does this have anything to do with Contact Mike?"

"How does that thing work?"

"Where did you get the mic from?"

"Actually, I had some non-mic questions for you."

ACELE - "Uh..." She's confused. "Yeah, I record stuff with it."

"No, I mean the boxer Contact Mike."

"No, I mean... forget it."

ACELE - "Ah! No. This is a *contact microphone*, it's for recording *inside* solid objects. Contact Mike just beats people up."

"You know, Contact Mike doesn't *just beat people up*. Contact Mike is a role model."

ACELE - "Um..."

"Yes, you heard right. You should try to be more like Contact Mike: a successful athlete and an *inspirational figure* who has overcome social, physical, and mental obstacles."

"On second thought, screw Contact Mike. He's not a champion -- you are! Look at you here in front of a saggy tent, picking your nose to drug-addict music. The world of sports is in awe of your faith and dedication."

"Sorry, I don't know why I said that. There was something else I wanted to know…"

ACELE - "Man, you are one weird cop."

"This isn't about me. This is about your lack of respect for one of boxing's greats -- and for *yourself*."

"I'd say I'm just about normal. Now about that mic -- Not Mike. Mic."

ACELE - "What is it with you and this Mike guy?" She pauses. The question is rhetorical.

"Okay, if it floats your boat I'll be more like Contact Mike and less like me."

Thought Obtained: The Litany of Contact Mike

"Yes, that does indeed float my boat."

"Self respect is not meant to float any boats but your own."

ACELE - "I'll keep that in mind, for future use." She turns to check her tape recorder.

2. "How does that thing work?"

ACELE - "The mic? I don't exactly know. Somehow it doesn't pick up vibrations from the air. The box said it only picks up *structure-borne sound*. If you like technobabble."

3. "Where did you get the mic from?"

ACELE - "Same place I got the recorder from. The Paliseum."

"What's The Paliseum?"

"Probably a hangout for junior delinquents. Back to the mic, if you will.""

ACELE - "Oh man, you haven't been to The Paliseum?" She forgets herself for a moment. "It's *the* coolest place in this whole drug-addled shithole."

"It's a music club and a synthesizer workshop. On Boogie Street, in Jamrock. Musicians live there, like... real musicians. I once saw Arno van Eyck!"

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - Thinking about it really cheers her up. It's a long way from here, though.

"Sounds interesting. Who is this *Arno* guy?"

"Sounds like a place for congregating homo-sexuals."

ACELE - "Yeah, there might be some. I don't think they look down on the homo-sexual underground there. The Paliseum's not that kind of place. It's cool."

"Because I have a problem with homo-sexuals. Major problem."

"Don't get me wrong. I'm all for it. This *Paliseum* just sounded like their kind of place."

"Oh no, you completely misunderstood me. I might be a homo-sexual myself."

I *could* put this one up to a vote, but, come on.

ACELE - "Oh! Well, good for you."

"Now about that *Arno* guy you mentioned."

"Never mind all that. I had questions about that mic..."

ACELE - ""Oh yeah..." She looks you over, assessing your age. "I guess even with your modern take on sexuality you wouldn't be in the van Eyck demographic."

"I get down."

"On second thought, let's go back to the contact mic."

ACELE - "I... don't know what that means."

"I grind."

ACELE - "Is that some kind of term from the homo-sexual underground?"

"It means I'm hip beyond my years."

"I'm not sure, but I have concrete evidence that I rock. In the form of a wrecked tape player and a totally trashed hostel room."

"Neither do I actually. I have no idea what I'm talking about. Get down? Grind?"

ACELE - "That's cool." She breathes on her fingers. Looks like she doesn't know what to say.

"You're right. Time has deserted me."

"Never mind, let's talk about that contact mic instead..."

ACELE - "Sucks, man." She squints her eyes for a second trying to remember something... then lets go of it. "Was there something else? About the contact mic, perhaps?"

-1 Morale

4. "Actually, I had some non-mic questions for you."

ACELE - "Okay."

Gonna leave this conversation for a second so I can save and look at that Thought.

THE LITANY OF CONTACT MIKE

Temporary research bonus: -1 Logic: No pain, no gain -1 Conceptualization: Push it -1 Drama: Make it Research time: 0h 15m

It's time once again to return to *The Twenty Things You Like To Say About Contact Mike*, the boxer who is, apparently, a paragon of open competition. It really doesn't get *any* better than this. *Any* better. Both inside and *outside* the ring. Stop. Point at someone. Someone in the distance. Point your finger at him. He *will* point his finger back at you, vaulting an impossible gulf of finance and privilege, to...

That's a lot of penalties, but it'll be over so quickly you'd hardly notice.

ACELE - "Hello again." The girl looks up at you for a moment before turning back to her work.

4. "What are you doing out here in the cold?"

ACELE - "Recording, I guess."

"And what is it you're recording exactly?"

ACELE - "I *think* I'm recording cracks in the ice, but there's no way to tell. Not without headphones. I think I just recorded your footsteps, too. Not sure how that will sound..." She scratches her forehead.

"Wait, what happened to the headphones?"

"And what are these recordings for -- the cracks, the footsteps?"

ACELE - "My boyfriend sold them."

"What for?"

ACELE - "I don't know, man... things. Just stuff you need for life."

DRAMA [Medium: Success] - A lie. They were probably pawned off for something ssssuspicious.

"And what are these recordings for -- the cracks, the footsteps?"

ACELE - "The musicians in The Paliseum use them for making music. They loop the stuff, cutting the tapes together. They make music out of cracks in the ice and keys jangling... crazy sounds like that. It's hard to explain."

Just nod.

ACELE - "Anyway, I thought I'd make some, too. It's supposed to be, like, a music place anyway..." She rubs her shoulders and looks around.

"I don't really know what I'm doing. They use synthesizers, too. I don't have a synthesizer."

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - She looks at the recording device, the thing she thought would fill her hours with joy and escape. It's turning out to be an empty fantasy. She feels childish, very useless all of a sudden.

COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - The sharp drop in endorphins is almost visible. Like a warm blanket has fallen off her shoulders -- the wave of chill, the quivering jaw. Indications of a drug high.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Take this, you're cold." The lieutenant begins to take off his jacket.

ACELE - "No man, fuck that, I'm cool... I'm sorry I said that. I'm sorry about the *fuck*."

KIM KITSURAGI - "It's okay." The lieutenant backs up. He throws you a glance.

"Now *this* is where a hat would come in handy."

(Give her your hat.) "Here. You need this more than I do."

"You said *it's* supposed to be a music place. What is?"

"I had some other questions." (Conclude.)

ACELE - "Yeah… maybe you were right about the hat."

I want to keep all the hats we have right now. Don't worry, I know where we can get another one.

3. "You said *it's* supposed to be a music place. What is?"

ACELE - "That." She nods toward the church. "The boys think it could be a *place*, like The Paliseum or something. Stupid. It's really..." she pauses, "not gonna be a Paliseum, that's for sure."

"The boys?"

ACELE - "Yeah, Andre and the guys. They're inside. In the tent."

LOGIC [Easy: Success] - And why is that?

"Why are you freezing out here, while the boys are inside?"

(Let it go.) "Got it..."

ACELE - "They got too much stuff crammed in there. No room."

"Stuff like what?"

ACELE - "Music stuff mostly. Like this tape recorder, but bigger. And there's piles of it."

"You mean like those headphones your boyfriend sold."

"Why not just leave some of it outside so you don't have to freeze?"

ACELE - "Yup." She squints her eyes a little. "They were pretty... I'm sorry we sold those."

"Why not just leave some of it outside so you don't have to freeze?"

ACELE - "That stuff is more expensive than I am. More expensive than any of us, really. Doesn't matter. I can take the cold."

4. "I had some other questions." (Conclude.)

ACELE - "Go ahead."

5. "Tell me more about this *music place* you've been planning in the church." 6. "You seem surprisingly comfortable with being questioned. Why's that?" 7. [Empathy - Legendary 14] The tape recorder lies on the ice like a discarded toy. Pick it up.

ACELE - "It's supposed to become, like, a club. For *anodic dance music*. Like that new style of synthesizer stuff they play at The Paliseum."

"Except that... yeah." She looks at the old wooden church up on the poles. As a mean wind comes bellowing in, the six-story structure lets out a doleful shriek.

SHIVERS [Medium: Success] - The floorboards are twisting and the shooting beams are slowly cracking like bones. Far east of the golden Delta, beyond the industrial port, there is a black patch of unlit coast with the smallest creatures on the ice...

There will never be a club for anodic music here.

Not in a million years.

"What is *anodic dance music*?"

"So you want to turn the church into a club?"

"Did you put the padlock on the church door?"

"Enough about the church then. I had another question." (Conclude.)

ACELE - "You know, anodic, cathodic -- music that's made with electronic instruments."

Secret task complete: What is anodic music?

+10 XP

Level up!

"Electronic instruments -- like what?"

"Got it. Now about the church..."

ACELE - "Synthesizers and tape consoles, microcomputers too. Anything that uses electricity, but isn't guitars... also found sounds. Stuff like that."

INLAND EMPIRE [Easy: Success] - You see clear, beautiful, violent flashes of light. Light cutting through a smoke-filled darkness. That is what the future will look like -- if it ever comes.

2. "So you want to turn the church into a club?"

ACELE - "I know." She nods towards the sloping mass of wood on the coast, then shivers. "It's not my idea. Andre and the boys found the place. It was supposed to be deserted, but now they can't even take it..."

"Hey..." Her black eyes widen. "You two are cops..."

"No. We are *the law*."

"Yes. Why do you ask?"

"I don't know where you got that idea."

ACELE - "Okay, well..." She hesitates. "Maybe you could *talk* to Andre and the guys? Because there are some strange things going on in that church... if you're police you should look into it, right?"

"I'll talk to them."

"We'll see. I prefer to remain non-committal."

"I've got enough on my plate as it is."

ACELE - "They're inside that thing there." She points to the tent. "Would be cool if you did... Was there something else?"

3. "Did you put the padlock on the church door?"

ACELE - "No."

"No?"

ACELE - "Not really, no."

(Show her the sticker on your ledger.) "So, this isn't yours?"

"Okay then. About that church..."

ACELE - "It's Noid's."

"Wait, is this *Noid* a friend of yours?"

"Why did this Noid-person put a padlock on the church door?"

ACELE - "Yeah, I guess you could say that."

"Why did this Noid-person put a padlock on the church door?"

ACELE - "To keep more weirdos from getting in. Fucking Martinaise... I'm sorry." She rattles her teeth. "It's got the worst weirdos. If you get around to it, ask Andre about them, he'll tell you."

4. "Enough about the church then. I had a another question." (Conclude.)

ACELE - "Go ahead."

6. "You seem surprisingly comfortable with being questioned. Why's that?"

ACELE - "Well, it's just questioning, right? You're questioning me -- it's what cops do."

DRAMA [Challenging: Success] - Fast and clean! A good one. Can't quite say it's a lie, but feels like one. She's better at lying than she'd like everyone to know.

"Have you been questioned before?"

"We do, don't we? Mind if I question you some more?"

ACELE - "Once or twice, yeah. I'm sorry I haven't had the *Revachol experience* they get east of the river."

"What's east of the river?"

"So, what trouble you've gotten into -- with the police."

"I had another question." (Conclude.)

ACELE - "*Rich* people. Rich people are east of the river."

(Look awestruck.) "Who are these *rich people*? They sound wonderful! I'd like to be one too."

(Sneer.) "I bet they're *really* rich. They must be very special people to be so rich…"

(Lean in and whisper.) "Let me guess, these rich people are not from around here..."

"Strange. The existence of rich people does not stir any emotions in me."

"Oh, okay. Good to know."

+1 Communism

ACELE - "Oh, they are. And I'm scum."

"I'm scum too."

"You're not scum."

ACELE - She nods, apprehensively.

2. "So, what trouble you've gotten into -- with the police."

ACELE - "The usual. I had a shitty run as a teenager."

"What's *the usual*?"

ACELE - "You know, drinking, getting into fights. The ugly stuff that happens when you move out of your parents' place at thirteen. In Faubourg."

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Medium: Success] - Interesting term. Time to glean some knowledge!

"Wait, what is *In Faubourg*?"

"Why did you need to move out at such a tender age?"

ACELE - "Is this a rhetorical question?"

"No. I literally can't remember even the most basic terms sometimes."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Khm..." The lieutenant steps in. "Faubourg -- not *In Faubourg* -- is a massive banlieue south of Jamrock Quarter. It is the largest ghetto in Revachol -- possibly the world."

"I *know* what Jamrock is but… let's say I didn't."

(Turn to the girl.) "And why did you have to move out when you were so young?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "We're Jamrock. Sort of. Martinaise is called North Jamrock sometimes. Jamrock is also a ghetto, only smaller than Faubourg."

+5 XP

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Medium: Success]- Jamrock is a district of Revachol comprised of the following quarters: Pox, Villalobos, Central Jamrock, Grand-Couron, Old South and the Valley of the Dogs. Learning is great!

(Turn to the girl.) "And why did you have to move out when you were so young?"

ACELE - "My dad was a drunk. Plus, I guess I just wanted to drink too, you know? Get my *party on*."

"You know what? I think you've really learned something from all those times you've been questioned. Some of your lies have been pretty good."

"I get that. I'm a major party animal myself. MAJOR."

"Drinking, partying and disco music are bad for you. You should take me as a warning example."

"I had another question."

ACELE - "Um... thank you?"

+5 XP

EMPATHY [Trivial: Success] - The girl is truly proud of herself.

"Yes, I can't even remember how many you've told or which ones I picked up on. Now -- another question."

"Lying to the police is nothing to be proud of. Now, another question, if you can manage to tell the truth."

ACELE - "Go ahead."

7. [Empathy - Legendary 14] The tape recorder lies on the ice like a discarded toy. Pick it up.

+2 More like Contact Mike.

EMPATHY [Legendary: Success] - The device is still warm from her touch -- and heavy as a brick, from the batteries inside. The company logo "Omicron" adorns its yellow plastic cover. Inside, the tape is rolling -- the girl looks at the device in your hands.

"I'm sorry you have to sit here on the ice with the drugs wearing off. At your age -- or at any age -- in this weather... waiting for it to get dark."

Put the tape recorder down.

ACELE - She looks you in the eye, her pupils wide, surrounded by a ridiculous amount of make-up.

"The people who built this world intended it to be better for you, but they failed. It is easier to live in their failure with this by your side." (Tap on the tape recorder.)

ACELE - The wind howls. She remains silent.

EMPATHY - It's real. Tell her.

"It is not a childish fantasy. It can be a real weapon against what's coming for you now."

ACELE - "What is...?" Her shoulders shake a little.

"The dark."

"Nothing, if you got this. Don't be scared."

"I'm once again reminded of how Contact Mike rose from the slums of Saint-Batiste to the top of the boxing world, overcoming adversity and serious brain trauma. Nothing is coming -- nothing he wouldn't knock out in three rounds. The real fight is for the right attitude."

ACELE - "Okay." Her teeth rattle. She takes the device from you and places it in her lap. "I'll stick to it."

AUTHORITY [Medium: Success] - There is little you can do to help her now, but given the chance you feel like you *should*. There is something about her. A weightiness.

ACELE - After a moment of silence she speaks again: "So, thanks. I guess. For the psych session. I guess that means we're... even?" She smiles a little.

SUGGESTION [Easy: Success] - She means your little talk before, after your breakdown. It's all right, she means to say. You returned the favour.

+5 XP

6. "Actually, that's it for now." [Leave.]

[lowkeyremi]

I found you (Yazukza Eren J x fem!reader)

Basically, you've been messing w his yakuza group anonymously, n he finally finds you (why did i think of the "me when i fucking get you" meme)

Content: Angst, eren's a bitch, suggestive, kidnapping, language, cocky-ish reader, a lil fluff, plot twist btwn u n eren

Oml this prob the darkest thing I've written

banner by: cafekitsune

It hurt to open your eyes, so here you are in this dark environment; more specifically a cold floor. There's a blindfold over your eyes, not that it matters because once again it hurts to open your eyes.

The smell of mold is so powerful that it's the only thing you take note of. Where the fuck are you? You aren't even sure how long you've been— where ever this is.

Creak, thump, thump, thump. That tiny voice was telling you to pick your head up because someone is coming, the louder voice was reminding you that you answer to no one so you will not pick your head up.

The blindfold was removed and you let out a groan. The light hitting your eyelids already feels bad enough, opening your eyes is going to be a pain in the ass.

"Open your eyes." A soft spoken voice commands. You do so out of curiosity, and boy, are your findings humorous.

"I refuse to believe I was kidnapped by a thin, blond, boy such as yourself." You attack him with your words. Those baby blues widen, the blond smiles maliciously.

"I didn't kidnap you, my friend did. I'm just here to get answers from you." The blond runs his hand through his short hair.

"So you're supposed to torture me? How cute." He only has shown enthusiasm to your behavior, which pissed you off a little.

"Precisely, I may not seem all that scary but I know how to get answers from people." He say intimidatingly.

You say nothing in return because you don't believe him at all.

"F/n, L/n, is it? That little sister of yours is very pretty. Wonder what would happen if I sent some guys-"

"My sister is more than capable of kicking ass, she learned from the best." You imply yourself as the best.

You're twenty-three while your sister is twenty. She's learned self defense and offense attacks in case of an emergency.

"Interesting, most people crack when a family member's life is at stake." He grins.

You are a little bit worried, but you know your sister better than anyone. She can handle anything thrown at her.

Armin, you learn, keeps asking questions, trying to get information out of you.

"You might want to just tell me because my buddy Connie isn't as nice as I am." He threatens.

"Let's hope he doesn't hit like a sissy." You respond.

Armin laughs like he's crazy. Then once again asked, "why have you been stealing our shipments and sabotaging our missions?" His voice no longer held any softness it had earlier.

"Like I said the last time, because I wanted to." A smirk creeped onto your face. Armin was getting impatient with you and your annoying back and forth with him.

He clicks the little earpiece and starts talking, "should I send in Connie or Mikasa? She's refusing to cooperate."

He was silent while the person on the other end spoke.

"Oh... alright I'll wait for you to arrive." Armin smirks at you an evil look in his eyes.

"You've done it now, have fun speaking to him." Armin crosses his arms and begins to whistle.

Excitement flows throughout your body, who are you going to encounter next?

Within a few minutes a man with long brown hair, emerald green eyes, and a well fitted suit walks in with a woman who has short black hair and a red scarf, the other man has a growing buzz cut and a nasty scowl on his face.

"It still surprises me that one woman has been able to cause so much chaos in my group." His velvet voice shook your soul.

"Never underestimate a woman, Eren." The black haired girl speaks, she has the voice of an angel.

"You can go Armin, thanks for the help." The brunnette dismisses him.

"Of course, if you need anything I'm in the main building." Armin smiled at you as he walked out, it was more of a childish 'you're in trouble now' kind of smile.

"Do I look familiar to you?" Eren asks.

You knew an Eren when you were a young girl, that was a long time ago. This man doesn't look the Eren you knew.

"No, am I supposed to recognize you?" Eren looks at your chained arms and he chuckles.

"You should recognize me, does 'Eren's famous mud pies' ring any bells?" He asks folding his big bulky arms.

"I didn't want to believe it was you." Is all you say sighing.

"What was your reasoning, if you didn't know I was the head of this group?" When Eren had found out his childhood crush was antagonizing him, he thought that you were trying to get his attention.

"Your father." Eren's eyes widened.

"My father?" He asks.

"Yeah, at first I thought he just didn't like my family. Recently though, from the test results it turns out he killed my father and once attempted to murder me in my sleep. I was only returning the favor. Seems the old geezer retired and put you in his place to save his ass." Before Eren could respond Connie spoke up.

"How do we know she isn't lying?" He asks.

"That would be a very sick thing to lie about." Mikasa counters.

"So Dad wasn't lying about that..." Eren whispers more to himself than to anyone in particular. You hear it anyway and your eyes squint.

"You knew?" Betrayal starts to seep through your body, even if you haven't seen Eren in a long time he was still somebody you used to trust your life with.

"Well yeah, but when he confessed it sounded too ridiculous to be true but now that I know it's true, I'm angry. I can't believe he tried to fucking kill you." The look on his face is lethal. You understand his anger but it makes you upset that he's more concerned about you than the fact that Grisha killed your father.

"It doesn't matter to you that he killed my dad?" Venom is laced in your voice, Eren's emerald eyes flicker your way and they soften for a moment.

"That's not what I meant. Of course I'm mad he killed your father. I'm... I just- I'm pissed he tried to kill the girl he knows I love! Even if that bastard is my father, he's going to pay." Eren blurts his love confession to you and everyone else is shocked, including you.

"Love? Eren what the actually fuck? Why didn't we know about this?! I thought we were like family!" Connie shouts he sounds more betrayed than angry.

"Yeah Eren, what the hell? Saying you love me won't bring my dad back." You're smug now, it hurts thinking about him but you won't cry, especially not in front of the son of the man who killed him. That would only make his death more pitiful.

"You can't seriously be implying you don't feel the same way." Eren's voice holds none of that comfort from earlier.

"Eren, don't do this. Not everything will go your way." Mikasa reminds him calmly.

"I wasn't fucking talking to you Mikasa! Answer the damn question!" He screams at you.

It seems he's the same as he's always been, your little maniac.

"Eren you are so pathetic, why obsess over someone like me?" His hands ball up into fists and it looks like he might bust a vein.

"Quit stalling, you can't tell me you don't love me after all those years we spent together." Connie grips his shoulder, but it does nothing to ground Eren because he's lunging at you in rage.

"No Eren, I don't love you. How could I? You and your asshole father can rot in hell." You're lying straight to his face, you want nothing more than to kiss him right now. It's not possible, maybe in another life where your father is still breathing.

Mikasa and Connie use all their strength to pull him back. You watch as they escort the love of your life out of the basement. He's screaming and cursing at you. The only thing you seem to tune into is, "This isn't over! I know you love me! You can't punish me for something I didn't do! I still love you." The last part was spoken quietly.

Your heart was beating loudly in your chest from everything going on. When he's out of sight, you mouth, "I love you too."

pt 2??? maybe?????

[gayuu-the-necromancer]

William Rex Chapter 14

｡⋆｡˚🦋˚｡⋆｡

This door in front of me which I've knocked on many times is now open.

William: "Come in."

('I want to go to your room'...is something I would never say before)

My body became true to my heart and heart is becoming true with my desires and I'm feel myself changing in a very real way.

(I want to change....a little more)

(I wonder if I can love you without fear)

Kate: "....Excuse me, then."

William's room was surrounded by tall windows like a tower floating above in the sky.

(It's a different kind of atmosphere...)

(And it smells like William)

The same moist and sweet fragrance he wears like rain-soaked roses.

I was caught up in a sense of dangerous comfort and elation, as if I didn't care if I could never leave this place again.

(Has anyone ever been here before....?)

The frustration I felt on the streets of London just a few minutes ago made my heart sizzle and burn again.

William: "Are you sure you wanna spend the rest of the day here? Don't you wanna like, I don't know, get out there and be in the midst of people?"

William sat down on the sofa, and I sat down next to him, leaving a distance for one person.

Kate: "....No, this is fine."

William: "Don't you think you shouldn't be spending your free time with the wrong man at the wrong place?"

Kate: "It's okay, I want to."

Kate: "Because I was unsure if I wanted....to go back to my normal life."

William: ".....Hmmm? Why..?"

(Why....)

Kate: "....Because I wanted to be someone who could give you something."

As if to shake off any remaining rational hesitation, I express my desire willingly.

Kate: "I don't want to be the one of many who was pushed by you to spread their wings."

Kate: "I want to be someone who can be there for you."

(My voice is shaking)

(This means I can't go home...)

William: "................."

(Please say 'If that's what you want, then go ahead' like you always do)

(Then, I'm sure, I'll be able to put aside all my fears of change, regrets about not going back to my normal life, and worries about the future)

But William looked back at me and smiled gently.

William: "You look different from when we first met."

William: "You're listening to your heart, putting your desires to words, and came all this way."

William: "......It's enough for me just to see you change in such a beautiful way."

William: "I don't want anything more than that."

Kate: "....Nn."

I knew William was the kind of person who wouldn't accept even a single flower.

But somewhere in my heart, I was hoping that I would be 'special' enough to be received.

My faint hopes were shattered and thrust deep into my heart.

(William wants no gratitude, loyalty, respect or anything else from his loved ones)

(And of course, that includes my love as well)

William: "Even if you can't decide if you wanna go home or not, you should still remember the way home."

I tried to shake off my doubts about having him receive my feelings, after he said he didn't want anything.

I forced a smile, not wanting to look hurt because I knew I had done something unfair....

Kate: "Why, William? ...Do you really not one someone to do something for you?"

Kate: "You can ask me or your loved ones what you wish for."

Kate: "Even though, they all want to give you something...."

Kate: "....You don't want anything from us."

(I want to know why at least)

William: ".........."

｡⋆｡˚🦋˚｡⋆｡

William: ".........."

Kate: "....William?"

William: "No...I just remembered someone saying the same thing to me a long time ago."

William: "Of course, I have wishes, that I can't fulfill alone."

Kate: "....! What is that?"

William: "If make my wishes come true, then one day something will happen that I don't want."

William: "So I'm choosing not to make it happen."

(If you make it come true, unwanted things will happen....?)

-----Options------

You're not going to tell me?

It's confusing.

Is this another fun thing to unravel?

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

Kate: "You're not going to tell me...?"

William: "Fufu....you look cute when you're impatient. I might as well not reveal the right answer then."

Kate: "....Mm."

A knock on the door interrupts the conversation.

The maids who came in, set up the tea set and left without a sound after interacting with William through sign language.

William: "I hope you won't worry about your table manners like you did on your first day here."

With a teasing laugh, William offers me a cup on a saucer.

Kate: "I read etiquette books while I'm here. I'm better at it now."

William: "I'm impressed. It's a good thing that you learned it. Because it's more fun to break rules."

William laughed mischievously, echoing the teacups with his perfect gesture.

My heart which had been aching dully tightened up.

(....I thought you made it clear you didn't want anything)

(I can't even make up my mind to continue to love him)

When he says 'I like you' or 'It's fun' with a gentle smile, such emotions make my heart ache.

(....I love William so much)

William: "Speaking of which, have you written your report to her Majesty?"

Kate: ".....I was going to write about it after the mission last night."

William: "Then again, something seems to be bothering you?"

Kate: "You said I will not be able to find the truth until I see with my own eyes, all that you are doing to 'conquer evil with evil'...."

Kate: "So I didn't know what to write about."

William: "Hmm. Then, do you think you can write now?"

(Now....)

Kate: "....Surely you have killed many people, albeit them being evil people. You are killing people, knowing that you are depriving them of their dignity and freedom forever."

(I know how horrible and sinful it is....)

Kate: "But to say that it is 'a sin of self-righteousness prescribed by the curse'.....still seems rude!"

Kate: "It's your will that drives you, isn't it?"

Kate: "It is disrespectful to you to blame it on the curse."

William: "..........."

Kate: "And....I certainly felt your evilness was a saving aspect of your life as I was watching you, and I am sure that you are a good person."

Kate: "If it is 'self-righteousness' to impose one's viewpoint and decide that it is true, then..."

Kate: "It would be more self-righteous of me to describe your conduct as 'the sin of self-righteousness that condemns you to damnation'....is self-righteous."

William: "....Ahahaha!"

William looked stunned, then burst out laughing.

Kate: "W-Why....are you laughing?"

William: "Ahahah! Hah....sorry."

William: "I can't believe you're more self-righteous than I am, a man who has killed more people."

William: "Fufu...you say the craziest things."

Kate: ".....Certainly it sounds strange when you put it that way."

Kate: "I've been by your side and have seen it all...I have no doubt that I have felt."

William: "I can't let Victor hear you say that. It's a statement that rejects the mission of the fairy tale master itself."

｡⋆｡˚🦋˚｡⋆｡

William: "I can't let Victor hear you say that. It's a statement that rejects the mission of the fairy tale master itself."

Kate: "Eh? Ah....!"

(I didn't mean it that way, but it certainly could be interpreted that way....!)

William: "Don't worry, I'm not going to tell him."

While smiling gently, William poured a second cup of tea.

William: "But it would be troublesome if you don't write me off as 'an evil that kills and tramples on their dignity and freedom'."

Kate: "Troublesome....?"

William opened the lid of the sugar pot and scooped out a spoonful of sugar.

William: "There is always a moment when a person transcends right and wrong when he or she is involved in wrongdoing."

William: "I am just a spoonful of poison to discourage these people from trampling on the freedom of others."

The white sugar grains that fell down in the water shimmer on the surface of the red water for a moment and then...melt and disappear.

William: "That's what I live for."

William: "And the thing I die for."

(Dying for that.....)

Kate: "That means...William will die in a way that will cause him 'fear of destruction'..?"

(Like Marquis of Avalus?)

William: "Mm? Yeah, something like that. Good interpretation."

Kate: ".....!"

The image of William being crucified flashed through my mind and fear shook my whole body.

William: "As much evil as I've judged, I prefer something cruel."

(That's....)

'The cursed king of self-righteousness is doomed because of his own harshness'------remebering his fate as Victor had taught me.

(William is trying to use----even that doomed fate to conquer evil)

William fully accepts and even desires, his tragic ending.

William: "My life is dedicated to my evil, I will continue to be as evil as I want to be."

William: "Until the end, when something or someone comes to cut off my head."

Kate: "....And I will write down the evil of your life."

(The more I write about his evil, the more he tramples on the freedom of others)

(And the more tragic end he faces)

(The effects of the poison in that will be intense)

So he smiled and said that I would have to write it off as evil.

"This is the kind of ruin that awaits you if you trample on others' freedom like William Rex"

......In this way, a story that sincerely crosses the border between good and evil.

It's like a fairy tale that teaches a lesson to young children.

Sadness overtakes me and I choke.

(Even if I give it all up right here and now, even if I give it all up for the sake of what awaits me after that is not a happy ending)

(For a loved one to have no choice but to accept the tragic ending ...that's too painful)

William: "Kate...."

His sweet voice caresses my heart.

William: "....You don't have to share my sins or my fate."

William: "But I can give you everything I have now."

(Now...)

William: ".....If you want, come here."

｡⋆｡˚🦋˚｡⋆｡

William: ".....If you want, come here."

Beyond this, where is the meaning of exchanging playful love?

(And yet, if I were to die tomorrow, I would regret....not making love to him now)

That was the only thing I was certain of, the rest was still in limbo.

Kate: "Just for now....please, take all of me."

William: ".....Of course."

He placed his tea cup on the table and leaned forward to fill the distance I had left open for one person as a precautionary measure.

I put my arm around William's neck as he leaned close to me.

Kate: "Mm.....Ahh...."

The tips of our tongues tickled each other and I felt my body melting in the impact.

It felt good and fills me up so much that it's overflowing.

(I love you....I can't help it, I love you)

(I want to be special to you, I want to be with you...I don't want you to have a sad end)

(But all those feelings of mine are all things you don't want)

It was painful, sad, and sorrowful, but it felt good, and I didn't know what was going on.

Kate: "Ah....Haa...."

William: ".....Shall we move to the bed?"

William looks down at me, who is about to collapse on the sofa and he lights up.

Kate: "......If you want."

(I know that this act is just an answer to my desire)

(I know that....but)

Kate: "Love me...however you want."

William: ".....Then come."

Kate: "....Ah..."

(I don't know what William wants, and I'm not prepared to live up to his destiny)

(I want you, but I'm sure your not doing this out of 'love')

Lust and love are two different things and even if there is no love, we can still make love.

When the overlapping skin separates, only the remnants of sweet happiness, like sugar that fleetingly disappears, will remain as pain.

(But...for now, only for now)

(It's true that my heart....is screaming loudly that 'I love you')

The guilt of leaving the future behind and piling on the moments wrapped in sweet pleasure.

........

It was only a few days later that an 'article' hit the headlines.

That day, I stepped into the dining hall which was noisy than usual with a puzzled look.

Members of the Crown, except William, are around table.

Victor: "....Kate."

Kate: "What's happening...?"

Jude: "You're the 6th one to ask that."

With his chin, Jude gestures me to take a look at the newspaper.

('The Savagery of Count William Rex'....?)

The story includes the smuggling of dangerous drugs in the basement of the workhouse, the many crimes committed using such drugs, human trafficking, and illegal labor.

The end result was the slaughter of the Marquis of Avalus, the man with whom he was supposed to have made a deal, after a price negotiation had broken down.

'It was written down as the crime of Count Rex'.

Kate: "This is....these are all lies...!"

William: "I have never seen you getting this angry."

Kate: "William....!"

William wandered into the dining room and peered over my shoulder at the newspaper from behind, his eyes narrowed in amusement.

William: "There is one thing that is true. It was definitely me who killed the Marquis of Avalus. That's an example of a highly credible lie."

Kate: "Why do you look so impressed? William, don't you wanna prove that this all wrong....?"

(Who in the world would do such thing?)

I quickly run my eyes over the reporter's name that was written at the end of the article.

Kate: "Eh....?"

｡⋆｡˚🦋˚｡⋆｡

William is called the 'bloodthirsty, homicidal maniac' as a warning to the citizens of London.

Kate: "Brian Bennett....?"

----FLASHBACK-----

William: "I see. So you're a fan of his."

Kate: "....Because he is a heroic reporter who helps the weak and discourages the strong."

(He is a friend of citizens. He is undaunted by power and very knowledgeable about the behind-the-scenes of politicians....)

......

Kate: "William...I mean, what is your acquaintance with Sir Rex?"

Brian: "Oh, he just invited me here. I met him when I was just starting out. He likes to push people's backs."

(He was at the 'tea party' among people who had been encouraged by William)

----FLASHBACK ENDS-----

Kate: "Why would he....?"

William: "I knew this would happen soon. I was waiting for an opportunity to jump on board."

William brings in a new newspaper.

There, is a picture of the body of the Marquis of Avalus not mentioned in Brian's article.

It was sensationally drawn and published.

Kate: "W-Why...!?"

William: "Inexpensive papers like this are not interested in the identity of the writer as long as the article is sensational."

William: "I had an artist I maligned do the illustrations, write the article, and contribute anonymously."

Kate: "But that means....why are you giving credence to a false story like that?"

William: "It doesn't matter what the public thinks of me in this article."

William: "The important thing is to make the death of Avalus as dramatic as possible to the remnants of Golden Butterfly."

William: "The shape of his corpse will make it clearer to them that this is a crime against butterflies, right?"

Kate: "Y-You.... d-don't you want to clear your suspicion....?"

William: "Do I?"

Kate: "But...!"

William: "I don't mind. Even if I did, it won't affect my evil execution in any way."

Victor: "There is no doubt that someone was working to frame William using the Marquis of Avalus as bait."

Victor: "Looking at the finer details in this article.....I can only assume they had a reporter lurking at the scene of the assassination."

(On site...? Ah)

I recalled hearing a loud noise in the next room right after he killed Avalus.

(Was that Brian....?)

Kate: "Then, who is trying to frame William....?"

Harrison: "It's pretty obvious when you're making such a roundabout way of getting around Will without directly touching him."

Liam: "Those who cannot directly touch the Queen's private army, as that would be an act of treachery."

Elbert: "He could easily have slipped through Victor's intelligence network, hid the Marquis, and used him up..."

Jude: "So, he's got an eye on the Crown, huh? If that's the case, you must have some idea."

Victor: "They want an orderly Britain by the justice they follow."

Victor: "His Majesty's most honorable Privy Council. They have considered us a disgrace to England since the founding of the Crown."

(The national center is trying to hang William as evil and kill him....?)

Kate: "But why William....?"

Victor: "If this is a game of chess, William is the Queen."

Victor: "The battlefield changes greatly depending on whether you are there or not. It's the first thing I want to leave behind."

Alphonse: "Fufu, this is getting interesting. What are you going to do now? Mr. William."

Alphonse: "The enemy has made a great deal of noise about you being 'evil' to the citizens, and they have created a great cause to execute you publicly."

Alphonse: "They will mobilize the police to capture you as soon as they can."

Kate: "But I can't believe the police would act on one such expose....they shouldn't even be able to issue a warrant without proof."

Jude: "No, idiot. It's not uncommon to get caught without a warrant."

(No way....)

William: "That's right...it would be troublesome if they use my presence as an excuse to intervene here. So I'm leaving the castle for a while."

Kate: "Eh...Huh.....!?"

William: "Vic, I'm leaving the Crown in your care."

Victor: "....Alright. You complete your wickedness."

..........

Unable to stand still, I ran out of the dining hall and chased after William.

Kate: "William...please wait....!"

Affannato: Painfully - Normal Story

[sparrow-mask22]

The Umbrella Academy Story of The Mothers (4/8) umbrella edition: Rachel

TW: childbirth, mentions of stillbirth/pregnancy loss, mentions of religious trauma, signs of Klaus being a cult leader from the minute he was born, grief (also the whole "village is being invaded" quote is a reference to an AO3 story called 'The Dragon and the Butterfly' it’s an Encanto meets How to Train Your Dragon story)

October 1, 1989. Lancaster Pennsylvania. 40 seconds before noon.

Rachel Herschberger, a 25-year-old woman, lived in an Amish village since she was a child. She had a deep connection with nature and simple life, which was why she chose to stay in the village even after she came of age. Rachel was sitting on a wooden bench outside her house, watching the sunset paint the sky with vibrant hues of red and orange. The air was filled with the sweet smell of freshly baked bread and the sounds of horses clopping on the cobblestone street.

Rachel’s younger sister, Sara-Beth, walked up to her, a basket of freshly picked apples in her arms. "The harvest was bountiful today," she said with a smile, setting the basket down beside her sister. "The applesauce will be sweet this winter." Rachel nodded, her gaze still fixed on the breathtaking sunset. "Jah," she replied softly, her voice filled with contentment.

As the colors of the sky deepened, the village began to quiet down. The horses were taken to their stables, children were tucked into bed, and the adults retreated to their homes. Rachel stayed out a little longer, enjoying the peacefulness of the night. She leaned back against the rough-hewn wood of the bench, hazy memories still haunted her: Waking up and feeling no kicks from the baby inside her, the village doctor feeling no signs of life. It was as if her child had vanished into thin air.

Faraway words rang in her ears: “I'm sorry….no movement…no heartbeat…thirty-five weeks….”

Rachel couldn't shake the feeling that her child was still out there somewhere, waiting for her. She knew it was against the Amish way to question the will of God, but she couldn't help but wonder if she had done something wrong. Maybe she should have prayed more, been a better example to her unborn child.

"Sister, you look like you have seen a ghost," an elderly woman said, approaching Rachel and Sara-Beth. Her name was Katherine, and she had been the midwife at Rachel's birth. "Is there something you'd like to talk about?" she asked gently, sitting down on the bench beside Rachel.

(Yay more foreshadowing! :D)

Rachel hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond to the elderly midwife's gentle prodding. She glanced at her sister, then back at Katherine, and finally decided to confide in her. "It's about my child, Katherine," she said softly, her voice trembling slightly. "I...I lost it. The baby died inside me, and I just don't understand why. I feel like I've done something terrible, and I can't stop thinking about it."

Katherine reached out and patted Rachel's hand reassuringly. "Oh, my dear," she said, her voice filled with sympathy. "I am so sorry for your loss. It is not your fault. These things sometimes happen, even among the Amish. We must have faith that God has a plan for us, even when we cannot understand it."

Rachel looked at Katherine, her eyes filled with hope. "Do you think so?" she asked hesitantly. "That God has a plan for me and my baby?" The elderly midwife nodded solemnly. "Jah, I do. You must trust in His wisdom and know that He will guide you through this difficult time. He does not give us more than we can bear."

Sara-Beth, who had been sitting quietly beside them, spoke up. "You should come with me to see the wise woman, Rachel. She has helped many of us find peace after a loss. Perhaps she can offer you some guidance." Rachel considered her sister's words for a moment, feeling a small spark of hope ignite within her.

The next day, Rachel and Sara-Beth made their way to the wise woman's cabin. It was nestled in the woods outside of the village, surrounded by a garden full of herbs and flowers. As they approached, they could hear the gentle hum of her voice as she chanted, her words carrying on the breeze.

The wise woman was an elderly woman named Esther, with kind eyes and a knowing smile. She invited them into her cozy cabin, where the scent of sage and lavender filled the air. "Come, sit down," she said, gesturing to a pair of comfortable chairs by the fireplace. "Tell me what brings you here today."

Rachel hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to begin. She took a deep breath and forced the words out. "I lost my child," she said, her voice barely audible. "I don't understand why it happened. I feel so lost and confused."

Esther nodded, her eyes filled with compassion. "I'm sorry for your loss, my dear. It is a great sadness that no one can truly understand until they have experienced it themselves." She reached over and took Rachel's hand in hers, offering her a small measure of comfort. "Please, tell me more about your child and your pregnancy. It may help you to find some clarity."

As Rachel spoke, Esther listened intently, her eyes never leaving Rachel's face. She asked about the pregnancy, the birth, and the time leading up to the loss. Sara-Beth added her own observations and memories, as well. When Rachel had finished, Esther took a moment to collect her thoughts before responding.

"It seems that your child was born with a rare condition," she said solemnly. "One that made it impossible for them to survive outside the womb. This was not something that you could have prevented, Rachel. It was simply bad luck. There is nothing you could have done differently."

Rachel nodded, her eyes filling with tears. "I know," she whispered. "But it doesn't feel like luck. It feels like punishment."

Esther gave Rachel's hand a reassuring squeeze. "I understand," she said gently. "It can be hard to accept that sometimes these things happen without any clear reason. But we must remember that we cannot always understand the ways of God. We must have faith that there is a purpose to our suffering, even if we cannot see it now."

"Perhaps," she said, "your child's short life served a greater purpose. Perhaps they were meant to be a blessing to you and your family, even if it was only for a brief time. They brought love and joy into your life, even if it was cut short. And now, as you grieve, you have the opportunity to honor their memory by living a life that is worthy of them. By being the best person you can be and sharing your love with those around you."

However, in the middle of Esther's speech, Rachel's heart hardened. She felt as though she had been told to simply accept her child's death as part of some grand plan, as though their short life had no meaning beyond serving as a lesson or teaching tool for those left behind. The thought made her angry and resentful. She looked at Sara-Beth, hoping her sister would understand, but Sara-Beth's face was filled with something Rachel had never seen before: peace.

But then, the clock struck twelve. Rachel immediately began writhing on her knees, clutching her stomach as she did a month ago. Sara-Beth's eyes widened in horror as her sister's belly swelled before their very eyes. It was as though Rachel had been impregnated by some unseen force, a bizarre twist of fate that defied all logic and reason. The pain was excruciating, and Rachel could feel something moving inside her, fighting its way out. Her screams rent the air, piercing the silence of the night.

"Oh my God," Sara-Beth whispered, her face ashen. She reached out to her sister, but hesitated, unsure of what she could do to help. The pain in Rachel's eyes was worse than any physical agony she had ever witnessed. It was as though her very soul was being ripped apart.

Esther, too, was frozen in place, her mind racing to understand what was happening. This couldn't be real. It couldn't be happening. And yet, there it was, unfolding before their very eyes. She tried to speak, to offer some words of comfort or reassurance, but nothing came out.

"Sara-Beth, get help!" Rachel gasped between contractions. "Get Katharine or someone, please!" Sara-Beth stumbled back, her eyes wide with fear and disbelief. She looked to Esther, hoping that the older woman might have some explanation for what was happening. But Esther's face was filled with the same confusion and horror.

The pain in Rachel's abdomen grew more intense with each passing moment, and she could feel something pushing its way out. She clutched her belly, her fingernails digging into her skin as she fought against the overwhelming urge to scream. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her body shuddering with the effort of expelling whatever it was that was growing inside her.

Sara-Beth returned to the cabin, her eyes still filled with disbelief. She found Katharine, who was a midwife, and frantically explained what had happened. Katharine hurried back to the cabin, her face a mask of professional calm. She knelt beside Rachel, feeling her abdomen, checking her pulse, and listening to her breathing. The pain in Rachel's eyes was unbearable, but she forced herself to focus on Katharine's voice, telling her what to do, how to breathe.

"I can’t lose another child, Katharine," Rachel whimpered, her voice barely audible above the pain. "Please, you have to save it." Her words were desperate, pleading, as though her very life depended on the survival of the child she was birthing. Katharine nodded, her expression grim.

Chancellor Jory, the leader of the village, stood near the cabin, watching in horror as Rachel struggled through labor. He had never seen anything like it, and the realization that she had somehow become pregnant just a month after losing her child sent a shiver down his spine. He glanced at the midwife, Katharine, who was doing all she could to save both mother and child. He wished there was more he could do to help, but he knew that it was best to leave them alone and let the experienced midwife handle the situation.

Rachel screamed in agony as another contraction gripped her, her body arching back in pain. She felt something warm and wet slide out of her, and she knew that it was the baby. She forced herself to push one more time, her muscles burning with the effort. With a final, guttural cry, she expelled the child from her body. It landed on the ground with a wet thud, its tiny limbs twitching spasmodally.

Katharine raised the child to the heavens, her eyes filled with wonder and disbelief. "A boy!" she exclaimed, her voice breaking with emotion. The villagers, who had gathered around the cabin, gasped in shock and awe. They had never heard of such a thing happening before.

Rachel lay there, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she stared down at the tiny form that lay beside her. The pain had finally begun to subside, but exhaustion and shock were quickly taking their toll. She reached out a trembling hand and gently touched the baby's downy hair. "My sweet child," she whispered, her voice hoarse from the ordeal. "You are a miracle."

Chancellor Jory knelt beside her, his eyes filled with a mixture of awe and disbelief. "Rachel, I don't know how this is possible," he said, his voice barely audible above the soft rustling of the leaves in the breeze. "But I am glad that you and the baby are safe." He glanced over at Katharine, who was still cradling the child in her arms, examining him carefully.

The villagers, their faces a mix of shock and wonder, began to gather around them, whispering amongst themselves. They had never seen anything like this before, and they knew that it was a miracle that both mother and child had survived. Some of the women in the village, their own children held tightly to their sides, began to weep silently, unable to comprehend the magnitude of what had just happened.

Rachel gently lifted the tiny form to her breast, guiding his mouth to her nipple. She closed her eyes, her face a mask of tenderness as she began to stroke his downy hair. The air was filled with the soft sounds of suckling, as if nature herself was trying to soothe them after the ordeal they had been through.

Chancellor Jory watched the scene unfold before him, his heart swelling with a mixture of pride and disbelief. He had never experienced anything like this in his life, and he found himself struggling to find the right words to express his feelings. He glanced over at Katharine, who was still examining the baby, her face a mask of wonder.

The voices of the villagers, normally soft and hushed, began to rise in alarm as they realized that someone unfamiliar was in their midst. Children's eyes widened with fear, and adults instinctively drew their families closer, watching the stranger with suspicion. Even the livestock, normally docile and unafraid, began to stir restlessly in their pens and stalls.

"Supposedly there's an outsider in the village…"

"There's an invader in the village?"

"THE VILLAGE IS BEING INVADED?!"

A young boy, no older than ten, sprinted through the center of the village, his voice shrill with fear. The words echoed through the village, causing a stir among the gathered crowd. Some of the women began to wail, clutching their children to their chests as they scanned the horizon for any sign of an invading force. The men, their faces set in grim determination, formed a loose perimeter around the group, eyes darting this way and that, searching for a threat.

The outsider, an elderly man with a British accent, took a step forward, his hands raised in a placating gesture. "Now, now," he said, his voice calm and soothing. "There's no need for alarm. I mean no harm to anyone here. My name is Reginald Hargreeves, and I'm searching for a child born in this village several hours ago." He glanced at Chancellor Jory, who nodded in confirmation. "The mother has given stillbirth last month, and she has been... concerned about the child's well-being ever since."

The villagers, slowly beginning to relax, exchanged uncertain looks. The young mother, still cradling the baby, stepped forward. "You're here to take him away?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"Yes," Reginald replied, his voice gentle. "I assure you, I only mean to give the child a loving home. His mother's situation is... untenable, to say the least. And he deserves a better life than she could ever give him."

Rachel, tears streaming down her face, nodded slowly. She looked up at Chancellor Jory, then back at Reginald, her hands still clutching the baby to her chest. "I-I don't understand," she stammered. "Why would you want him? He's not even yours."

Reginald's expression softened. "No, he's not mine by birth," he said gently. "But he is one of many special children born today of mothers like you, Rachel. Women who were not pregnant when the day began, but who found themselves with a child to care for at the end of it. He is a miracle, Rachel, and he deserves a life filled with love and opportunity. You've given him the best start you could, and now it's time for him to move on to the next stage of his life."

The old man's words hung in the air, each one like a weight on the villagers' shoulders. Some looked relieved, others angry, but no one could deny the truth in what he was saying. Rachel, her face still streaked with tears, slowly released her grip on the baby, handing him over to the outsider. As she did so, she felt a strange mixture of sadness and hope welling up inside her.

"Your son will have a wonderful life with us, Rachel," Reginald assured her, cradling the baby in his arms. "He will grow up with a well education, around the clock nanny care, and siblings of his own age. He will be loved and cherished as our own." As he spoke, the other villagers began to nod in agreement, some even offering their own words of comfort.

The baby, swaddled in a soft blanket, let out a small coo, his eyes fluttering shut. The sight was enough to bring a small smile to Rachel's face, despite the knot in her stomach. She looked up at Chancellor Jory, who seemed to be studying her expression intently. "It's all right, Rachel," he said softly. "You've done the best you could."

Reginald, the man who had come to take her child, nodded in agreement. "Yes, you have been a wonderful mother to him," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "But now it's time for him to move on to the next stage of his life." He paused, and Rachel could sense the threat underlying his words. "I must remind you, Rachel," he continued, "not to contact him or attempt to find him in any way. If you do, it will not end well for you."

Her heart sank at his words, but she knew there was nothing she could do. She had no choice but to let her son go. As she watched them walk away with her precious child, her body trembling with the weight of her loss, she tried to focus on the good that would come of it. At least he would be safe and loved, she told herself. At least he wouldn't have to grow up in poverty and hardship.

But there she was, reeling from the loss of another child, unable to shake the fear that the man's warning was nothing more than an empty threat. She tried to find solace in the fact that her son was now safe, but the ache in her heart only grew more unbearable with each passing moment. As she watched them disappear into the crowd, she felt as though a part of herself was being ripped away.

[bookish-whore]

❤️✨V-Day Headcanons✨❤️

A/N: alrighty here we have our lord of bloodshed, prince of bastards, general of the night court armies himself and I am in a word…speechless. Don't worry Rhysand is coming next.

Cassian

I've said it before and I'll say it again. Cassian's love languages are quality time and acts of service (especially in the bedroom)

He also is a last-minute planner so he doesn't think about the fact that it's even an important day until a week before after he overhears Rhysand mention something to Az

It sends him into a full-blown panic because you always manage to plan such thoughtful things and he just wants you to feel how much he loves you even though he shows you every day (in so many ways but especially with his tongue)

He decides that a nice dinner at a new restaurant in town would be the best bet so he flies down there to find that it is completely booked. (he flashes his name, and Rhysand's to secure a table)

The day of he is picking up all your favorites literally anything he can think of that will make you smile. (he also buys you new lingerie because he wants to eat you out while you wear it.)

You're at home getting ready when he arrives, and he simply wraps his arms around you holding you tight

He sits in a chair in your shared bedroom just enjoying the silence with you while you finish getting ready (bc he just wants to be in your presence)

You're struggling with the final touches

He comes up from behind you to put your necklace on (ofc its red like his siphons I mean come on)

He does the thing (the thing where he trails his hands down your sides to the zipper on your dress and slowly pulls it up sending waves of arousal right to your core.)

Cassian is kinky (I don't need to remind you of that.) so as he zips you up he whispers into your ear "take off your panties. I want you completely bare tonight"

He follows that order with a sharp slap to your ass which makes you jump but also makes you squeeze your thighs together in anticipation for later.

Dinner is sweet, its quiet and intimate despite being a busy night (Cassian asked Rhys to bribe the restaurant so it would be more private for the two of you)

You offer him a piece of your dessert and Cass shakes his head with a mischievous grin.

"You have to try this" you plead "it's absolutely delicious"

"I'm saving my appetite for later" he says in a low tone "when I can have my way with my sweet pussy"

You clench your legs together a wave of wetness rushing through you because he is a god in the bedroom.

"I can smell just how much you want me baby" he says waving the waitress over with the bill "Don't wanna keep my good girl waiting. now do I?"

He flies you home, loving the way you cling to him as he goes higher and higher into the clouds. He grips you close with one hand while the other finds its way between your legs, slowly teasing your clit.

You make it home in record time.

You run to the closet and Cass stalks after you silently, wondering why you're in such a hurry

"its a surprise" you promise telling him to sit down and be patient

you emerge a few minutes later in a leather lingerie set you picked up that had red gemstones adorning it (that reminded you of his leathers)

He is practically drooling as you make your way to him, straddling his large thighs as you wrap your arms around his neck.

He digs his hands into your ass (grinding you against his straining cock)

"I'm going to have my way with you little one" he grits through his teeth

and oh my gods he does.

(the next day you are too sore to even get out of bed)

[estellardreams]

Tachophobia Expanded Universe: Incorrect Quotes

Niko: Then either Sonic is a god or could kill god, and I do not care if there is a difference.

Camellia, looking at a dead phone: How do we bring this thing back to life? Magic? Live sacrifice? I know a guy in town-

Camellia, holding a toy lightsaber: I’m Darth Vader! Doctor Aster: I’m done with everyone’s bullshit.

Camellia: What do we think of Niko? *pause* Damien: *sighs* Nice pal. Kyle: I think they're gay.

Damien: No, I don't want to talk about physics! I don't know anything about the laws of physics because they are hard and boring. I simply would like them to behave in a way that is most convenient to ME and MY LIFE! Is that really asking too much? Kyle: Yes, as a matter of fact, it is! Damien: Well, guess what? Science is stupid bullshit!! Kyle: You take that back!!! Damien: No. Magic is awesome. Science blows. The end.

Damien: Is this gaslighting? Am I being gaslit? Doctor Aster: If I were gaslighting you, you’d never know it. Damien: Is THAT gaslighting? Doctor Aster: Shut up.

Damien: Hello, I'm Damien. I work at a shop now. Here to help. Look, they gave me a badge with my name on it in case I forget it. Very helpful, as that does happen.

Damien, ordering coffee: I’d like a light roast. Kyle: You're kinda ugly.

Camellia: Do you guys want to see a butterfly? Kyle: Ooh, yes please! Doctor Aster, with their laptop open: I'm not going to stop working to look at a stupid bug! Camellia: It's not a bug though... Doctor Aster: ... Kyle: ... Doctor Aster: Well I still don't want to see. Kyle, realizing: Please don't throw- Camellia: Whee! *throws a stick of butter*

Damien: Just wondering, did you get any sleep? Camellia: Did I get any... leap? Damien: What...?

Niko, gesturing to Doctor Aster: Camellia, look what you did! You made Mom upset! Damien: Mom, please don’t cry, we’re sorry! Camellia: I’m sorry Mom... :( Doctor Aster, near tears: I DON’T REMEMBER GIVING BIRTH TO ANY OF YOU!

Kyle: Hi could I ask how exactly does one accidentally set a lemon on fire? Damien: Microwave for 40 minutes. Camellia: WHY WERE YOU MICROWAVING A LEMON?! Damien: I read boiling lemons helps cover up bad smells and I wanted to cover up the scent of burnt oranges, but I didn’t own any pots… Niko: Did you burn an orange too? HOW?! Damien: Microwave for 40 minutes.

Kyle, holding a gun: If the conspiracies about life being a simulation are true WHOEVERS CONTROLLING MY SIM I JUST WANNA TALK.

Camellia: Onion rings are vegetable donuts. Damien, used to Camellia being dumb: Sure... Camellia: Your stomach thinks all potatoes are mashed. Damien: Okay? Camellia: Lasagna is spaghetti flavored cake. Damien: Camellia: Lobsters are mermaid scorpio- Damien: Jesus, that one is a little- Niko, interested: No, no, Camellia, keep going.

Kyle: *spits mouthful of blood onto floor* You’ve become far more powerful since we last crossed paths. Dentist: Please stop, there’s literally a sink right next to you.

Damien: What's that? Camellia: Chocolate. Damien: What's chocolate? Camellia: Candy. Do they not have candy where you're from? Damien: Yeah. Grapes, nuts. Camellia: No wonder you're so bitter.

Kyle: Don’t you have any dignity, Doctor Aster? Doctor Aster: Uh, no.

Niko: Hey Damien, do you have any hobbies? Damien: Swimming.. Niko: Really? That’s cool. I never expected you to- Damien: In a pool of self hatred and regret.

Damien: I’m terrible at expressing myself. Doctor Aster: Don’t worry, actions speak louder than words! Damien: Yes, but my actions are also bad.

Kyle: Oh gosh I wish I got more sleep I only got six hours! Camellia: Six? I only got three! Niko: You guys got sleep? Damien, comes stumbling out of their room and grabs a jug of coffee before saying: What year is it??

Camellia: You’re insane! Doctor Aster: Sure I am, what’s your point?

(OH MY GOD WHEN I SAW THIS GENERATED I SCREAMED:)

Damien: Welcome to my room. As you can see, I've knocked over many chairs because I get so tilted at the towers. Kyle: Uh, this isn't really tilted. Or a tower. Damien: Well you see, it's a gamer pad. Not many girls come in here because I get friendzoned so frequently. But that's okay. Kyle: I'd like to be in the Friendzone! I like friends! Damien: It's not as pleasant as you think. They don't treat you like a friend. They treat you like an item. Sometimes I wish I could be more than just an accessory to these women; But unfortunately, as a gamer, I don't get respect. Kyle: I'm not a gamer! so maybe they'll respect me! Damien: That just makes you a beta cuck.

Niko: Be right back, gonna hit the toilet for a quick power sob.

Camellia: Think you can answer some questions without the usual level of sarcasm? Doctor Aster: If you can ask the questions without the usual level of stupid.

Doctor Aster: What kinds of sounds annoy you? Camellia: Are we talking real sounds or imaginary ones? Doctor Aster, now interested: Lets say imaginary. Camellia: Spiders wearing flip flops.

[dungeons-and-dragon-age]

some more incorrect quotes, cos they're fun xdd

---

Dorian: We can bake these cookies at 400 degrees for 10 minutes or 4,000 degrees for 1 minute

June: How about 4,000,000 degrees for 1 second?!?

---

Varric: I hate the countryside. It’s dirty. It’s unclean. And what is that smell?

Liam: That would be grass.

Varric: Disgusting.

---

Liam: Honestly, I don’t even play an active role in my life anymore..

Liam: Things just happen and I’m like “Oh, is this what we’re doing now? Ok.”

---

Noya: What doesn't kill me better start running, because now I'm fucking pissed.

---

Liam, texting Fenris: Fenris there’s a spider on the outside of the bathroom door can you get rid of it?

Liam: Pls hurry because I’m going to cry

Liam: Fenris

Liam: Fenris?

Fenris: Fenris is dead. You’re next. Love, Spider.

---

Addie: Can we go out to get icecream?

Liam: Did you ask Pa?

Addie: He said no.

Liam: Then why did you ask me?

Addie: He’s not the boss of you.

Liam, internally: It's a trap, it's a trap, it's a trap-

---

Noya: Are you busy?

Sten: Yes.

Noya: Cool, listen to this-

---

Zevran: We’ve been conducting an ongoing study to see what Kala will and will not eat.

Alistair: Grass? Yes!

Zevran: Moss? Yes!!

Alistair: Leaves? Ohh, yes!

Zevran: Shoelaces? Strange but true!

Alistair: Worms? Sometimes!

Zevran: Twigs? Usually nah.

Alistair: Rocks? Usually!

Zevran: Morrigan's cooking? Inconclusive!

Wynne: How did you… test this?

Zevran: You just hand her stuff and say ‘eat this’ and if she eats it, she eats it.

Wynne: ... I don’t know how to feel about this.

Morrigan: IS THAT WHERE ALL MY SPARE SHOELACES WENT?

---

Kala: You are an absolute sodding dork.

Alistair, singing: Yeah, but I'm your dork!

Kala: *sighs* Yeah, you're my dork.

---

Ari, to the party: And remember, if I get harsh with you it is only because you’re doing it all wrong.

---

June, trying to comfort Cullen: What's the problem? Anxiety? Low self-esteem? Obsessive thoughts of random arson? I've been there.

---

Liam: I dunno if I'm ready to process the ramifications of this bullshit.

---

Cullen: So, June is no longer allowed to take the trash out at night.

Cass: Why?

Cullen: Because I've caught her trying to train raccoons to fight five times in a row.

June: You'll be thanking me when the third raccoon battalion saves your ass.

---

Var'Renan: *raises eyebrows*

Noya: Put those back down!

---

Kala: That's ridiculous, Alistair doesn't have a crush on me.

Zevran: Yes he does.

Leliana: Yes he does.

Alistair: Yes I do.

---

Ari: Do you ever get pre-annoyed? Like you already know someone is going to piss you off?

Josie: What? No, I—

Solas: *enters room*

Ari: *jaw clenches*

---

Neira: Sometimes I wonder if I’m hearing voices.

Neira: Then I remember that’s the last bit of sanity I have trying to get me to fall asleep at a reasonable time.

---

Morrigan: Ugh, there’s always that weak bitch in the group who isn’t down with murder.

Morrigan: *glares at Neira*

Neira: Well, sorry I have morals!

---

Jowan: You’re overthinking this.

Neira: You don’t know the appropriate level of thinking, Jowan. What if I’m underthinking?

---

Alistair: Bottling up negative emotions is bad for your health, so you shouldn't do it.

Kala: I know, that's why I bottle up all my emotions, both positive and negative, so it cancels out.

Alistair: Th-that's not how that works-

---

June, reading a recipe: Beat three eggs?

Sera: It means like in hand-to-hand combat.

June: Ohhhh-

Cullen: Both of you get out of this kitchen.

---

Liam: Fine! I don't give a shit!

Merrill: You seem to give a lot of shits for someone who claims not to give a shit.

---

Neira: My expectations are low, but they can always go lower.

---

Ari: Who hurt you?

Sera: *snorting* What, do you want a list?

Ari: ...Yes, actually.

---

Krem: Welcome to Fucking Applebees, do you want apples or bees?

Cass: Bees?

June: SHE HAS SELECTED THE BEES!

Cass: Wait-

*Sera approaches, shaking a jar of bees menacingly*

---

Liam: Swear words are illegal now. If you say one you'll be fined.

Addie: Heck.

Liam: You're on thin fucking ice.

Liam: Oh no-

---

Solas: This is a very powerful artifact. You’d be messing with forces you don’t fully understand.

June: That sounds like a dare to me.

Solas: Oh my god.

---

Neira, making coffee: This is going to fix everything

---

Cassandra: Yesterday, I overheard June saying “Are you sure this is a good idea?” and Dagna replying “Trust me,” and I have never moved from one room to another so quickly in my life.

---

Lilian: I love the term 'partners'. Are we dating? Are we robbing a bank? Are we the dedicated detectives who investigate these vicious felonies and are members of an elite squad known as the special victims unit? Who knows.

---

Zevran: Hey, can I get a sip of that water?

Kala: It’s not water.

Zevran: Vodka! I like your sty-

Kala: It’s vinegar.

Zevran: …What?

Kala: It's vinegar, PUSSY.

---

Ari: *closes a cabinet*

*a crash is heard behind the cabinet door*

Josephine: What was that?

Ari: The sound of someone else's problem.

[insert dejected Trifles Minutiae noises]

---

Lilian: I need to dye my hair.

Lilian: Or get another tattoo.

Lilian: Or a new piercing.

Sebastian: ..... Why?

Lilian: To, you know, appease the mental breakdown gods.

---

Merrill: Would you stab your best friend in the leg for 10 million gold?

Liam: You stab me, and then when my leg gets better, we buy a big-ass house.

Varric: You can stab me too, then we'll have 20 million.

Liam: Good thinking.

---

June: *makes Cullen a cup of tea but puts salt in it*

Cullen: *sips tea*

June:

Cullen: *finishes tea*

June: Didn't it taste bad?

Cullen: Yeah, but I didn't want to hurt your feelings so I drank it all.

June, tearing up: Oh, okay.

---

Random Orlesian at a political dinner: How many kids do you have?

Ari: Biologically, emotionally, or legally?

---

Var'Renan: Creators, give me patience.

Noya: I think you mean 'give me strength'.

Var'Renan: If the Creators gave me strength, you'd be dead.

[thepinkwriterr]

Capricorn Season Chapter Thirty-Four Part 1

Word Count: 2k Table of Contents

9 am. Voices. Already. 

I didn't want to peel myself from the blankets. Their warmth clung to me, soft and heavy, like velcro. The thought of having to venture into the world was unbearable. 

I closed my eyes and rolled over, trying my best to ignore it. I had to get up soon and get my day started. I just wanted five more minutes. 

But then I heard it—my name, spoken tense and low. I cracked open my eyes and saw Peter and Jimmy huddled together, their faces tight with frustration. Peter's jaw was clenched, his eyes shadowed. Jimmy was hunched and small. The air between them was thick. 

Jimmy turned to me, looking caught. He was nervous. "One second." He said to Peter. He knelt down beside me and told me he would get us breakfast. He was dotting on me, more so than usual. 

"You don't have to do that. I'm getting up soon. I have to mail my film reels so I'll be up and about anyway." 

"I'll do that, don't worry," Peter said. We both looked at him, puzzled by his sudden kindness. He was wearing a toothy smile and looking back at us. 

"That would be great," I said and dropped my head back on the pillow. 

"No, don't worry, G, I can do it," Jimmy said with an apprehensive glint in his voice.

"Nonsense, I'll do it. A little peace offering."  "I don't care. Someone do it." I said with a flick of my hand. Jimmy returned to Peter's side and they left the room, continuing their talk. It sounded much more pleasant as Peter grabbed the envelope of film. 

Last night must have given him a change of heart. He saw that I was doing a good job and saw how helpful I was being. I had been trying to get him to see how wonderful I was. I think my hard work was finally paying off. 

For the last two weeks, ever since this feud with Bonzo started, I could tell Peter wasn't my biggest fan. I have been wracking my brain trying to come up with ways to get him to like me. I first tried to gift him with a baked good.  "Okay, I've got my list of ingredients." I smiled and sat my pen down on my grocery list.  "What do you need with a grocery list?" Robert asked.  "I'm going to make some brownies."  "Why?" Jonesy asked.  "She just wants Peter to like her." Bonzo teased. It bothered me how well he could see past my thin attempts at approval.  "No, it's just because I want everyone to have delicious brownies."  "You're a filthy liar!" Robert and Bonzo were upon me now. They were not the type to let this sort of thing go.  "I'll help." Jonesy said. 

"Thank you, John."

My next mission was to find Richard so we could grocery shop. He rented the car and told me if I needed to go somewhere he would drive me. I'm sure there was no ulterior motive there at all. 

He agreed immediately and pulled out his keys.

It was a smooth twenty-five-minute ride to the local grocery store. It was a small building with a large sign that said "Humphrey's Grocery and Emporium". I thought it was a rather unusual name and we shared a laugh about it. 

The shop was brightly lit and smelled wonderful. The scent of fresh bread wafted through the aisles, reaching all the way to the back of the store where the eggs and dairy were held. We walked side-by-side through the thin crowd of people. It was a Tuesday morning at 11 A.M. I didn't expect many people to be there.  I needed eggs, powdered sugar, cocoa powder, oil, vanilla extract, and chocolate chips. 

Richard walked close behind me and helped me find the things I needed. He was too close as we traipsed through the aisles, I could feel his breath on my neck. 

"Richard, can you back up a little?" I laughed.

"Yes, my love, my apologies."  I broke into a laugh. He's not the chivalrous type, unless sex is involved. 

"What?"

"Nothing. We need eggs." I said with a shake of my head.  "Oh, yes we do!" He smirked.  We got down to the last two things on my list, vanilla extract and cocoa powder. 

As I was walking toward the shelf he stepped on the back of my shoe. I yelped and turned to him, angry but laughing. 

"Sorry, I didn't know you were gonna stop."

I rolled my eyes. 

The cocoa powder was on the top shelf and I reached for it, the sound of my heels clicking on the floor as I jumped. As hard as I tried I still couldn't reach. He stood on his toes, reached over me, and grabbed the plastic container. He brushed his body against my backside as he brought the powder to eye level. 

"Here you are, darling."

"Thank you, Rich, but please keep your body to yourself." I pushed the awkwardness aside and put the container in the basket. All I needed now was the vanilla extract.  "I got that as well." He dropped the extract in the basket and we made our way to the checkout.  The lady checking us out was older than me, possibly in her early thirties. She was eyeing Richard as she scanned our items. Her ears perked up when he spoke. 

Now that I'd been around a number of Brits I could pick out which accents I liked more than others. Richard, Peter, and Jimmy were all from London but sounded very different. Jimmy sounded posh and put together, while Richard and Peter sounded gruff. Rich's accent was particularly unrefined. This girl was silly and disillusioned, thinking Rich to be a worldly gentleman.

"I can't wait to get home and make these for the kids, honey." I wrapped myself around his arm and smiled. My grin was more at the woman than him. He gave me a confused look but got the memo when I kicked at his leg. 

"Ow! Oh yeah, yeah, they're gonna love them." He patted my shoulder and pulled me closer.

"You two are married?" She asked incredulously "No, we had children out of wedlock. Let me tell 'ye, she may look innocent but she can't keep her hands off me." I kicked him again but he only laughed this time.  "It was your idea to ditch the birth control! You told me it was empowering. Now, look at me, a housewife to your three monsters." 

The cashier laughed through her embarrassment.

"Your total is 10.57." She said, her face hot and red.  "I'm not even sure they're mine! One of them is Asian and the other has blond hair!" The woman looked mortified now. She put a hand over her mouth and stared at us. Richard concealed his laughter and handed her the money.  We ran from the store laughing, the sounds echoing off the cars and storefronts. 

"That poor woman looked like she was going to faint." Richard laughed once more. 

"I think so." I threw the bag in the back of the car.

-

Jonesy and Robert were helping me make the brownies. Well, Jonesy more than Robert. He was just sitting on the counter and sneaking finger-fulls of batter. 

"Stop it!" I smacked his hand as he reached for more. 

"Ow!" He retracted his finger and cradled it like a baby. A long string of glossy batter followed his finger and landed on the ground between us. He scowled. 

"We don't need your filthy germs in the batter!"  "Okay, this pan is ready." Jonesy said. His long, pointed nose peaked over the pan as he carefully lowered it onto the oven rack. "Sweet!" cried Robert.  This hotel had a kitchenette with a tiny counter, fridge, and oven. The stovetop had two burners. The fridge was white with a ripple texture. It didn't get very cold. It was just enough to make the brownies. 

Robert sat on the counter impatiently, inhaling all the delicious smells that wafted through the kitchen.

-

When they were finished I cut them up and plated them. The sugary smell coated the inside of my nose and made my mouth water. If these don't make Peter like me, I don't know what will. 

Robert tried to get handsy again but dropped it quickly. Steam pounded off the cakey mound as it fell back to the plate. 

I brought the plate to the common area and passed it around. Everyone looked excited as they took a brownie. Everyone was tantalized. 

"Thank you so much." Bonzo said through a mouthful. 

When it got to Peter he waved it off and continued his word search on the newspaper. 

I couldn't hide my frustration. 

"Um, Peter, aren't you going to have a brownie?" I asked.

"I don't like brownies."  "What? You don't like brownies?" Robert exclaimed.  "Nope."  "But these are special, Grant, you've got to try one!" He smiled and took another bite. He hummed in a deep enjoyment.  Peter looked up at me and sighed. The plate was passed back to him and he took a brownie. He took a small bite, looking apprehensive, but smiled small. 

"They're good. Thank you, Gwen." He sat the dessert down and went back to this paper.

I was triumphant. I had conquered his dislike of me with a simple treat. He had another, silently. 

Jimmy said he saw him take a third from the kitchen later that night. Who says people can't change?

----

Taglist:

@anothercanyonlady​ , @jonesyjonesyjonesy​   @paginate54 , @seventieswhore , @jimmypages , @jimmys-zeppelin​ , @jimmysdragonsuit13 , @sinceivebeenlovingyoou , @akyras-azriel , @lzep , @litvrgi , @laluxea

[blakeivy80]

Take the chance - a short Pablo Schreiber fanfic

4 877 / 5 000

It’s 8.00 am, her phone rings. But who could it be at this time? Unknown number…. huuuum no! If it’s important, they’ll leave a message! She has a slight hangover from the day before. Damn what happened ? And why did she drink?? while she usually avoids it, she can't handle alcohol and quickly ends up “dumpy”. This is what happens when you get sucked into an impromptu party with your best friend, with lots of people you don't know, in a place you don't know, drinking things you don't know either obviously.

Oh, yes, she recalls something….there was a man….tall…..um and pretty handsome according to her vague memories. But then, who was it?? and above all, what happened?? Come on, it's time to get up! No message on the machine, so it wasn't so important.

A good shower will put her thoughts back in place! She must have been pretty drunk to have gone to bed in her t-shirt from the day before, she apparently just took the time to take off her jeans, which were…..folded on the chair in front of her bed?? and her shoes, placed well next to them? ok, so she took the time to do that, while drunk? Strange, very strange...

She notices a foreign smell on her t-shirt, a perfume, quite pleasant otherwise. He should be pretty darn close!! she said to herself, so that her t-shirt was soaked with his perfume!! Well, we'll take the time to analyze all that later, and Tina will probably be able to tell us a little more, but first, the shower!

Once done, she feels so much better, and a nice little tea should help her put the pieces back together little by little. That’s when the phone rings again, this time for a video call ! But what is this ?? who would try to call her on Facetime at that time? with an unknown number... she still doesn't pick up, with nothing other than her towel around her, that wouldn't be very appropriate. A message pops on her phone “Hi! Not up yet? “ But who the hell is it…..? She clicks on the message. Damn, whoever it is, they'll see that I read it! And it calls again. Damn but damn! Oops, no, the phone slips through her fingers, wrong move and now the screen lights up. ohhh shit shit, right on her neckline, luckily the towel didn't fall!

“Well what a welcome!” said a man’s voice, laughing. “uhhhh, hi!” she said, raising the phone to reveal its screen:

- Oh damn!! She suddenly feels herself blushing. Holly shit, but he is downright handsome!! “Hi” he replies with a beautiful smile and the sun in his beautiful green eyes….mymy, she was suddenly very hot. “still up for a walk in nature?”

“uhh….yeah….”. But what is he talking about?? Her ? go wandering in nature? Well, he must have really had an effect on her, and she must have been very drunk to accept! The only thing she masters is the treadmill at the gym! He laughs,

“I've the feeling you don’t have much memory of yesterday evening, am I wrong?” - She looks away, takes a deep breath….

”um, indeed” she replies, scratching her head, “if you could refresh my memory”.

“Look, it's no biggy ! I can be at your place in 20 minutes, we’ll have a good coffee or tea for you, and I’ll tell you all about it!”

“Because you know where I live??” - “How do you think you got home last night? you were too drunk, I wasn’t gonna let you take your car.” Oh….. “I drove you back, carried you to your bed and..”

“uh…how did I end up without my jeans?”

“I’m the one who took it off you, but don’t worry, I didn’t watch, it was just to make you feel better” - ouch…. “NOTHING happened, don’t panic!!” - ouch again…”Come on, I’ll let you get dressed, even if I honestly don’t mind the shower towel look,” he said, laughing, “and I’ll be there in 20 minutes, ok?”

She hesitates for a moment, ok, he was stunningly handsome, very gentlemanly and also considerate a priori, but... what if he was...

For the rest, I leave it to your imagination...

“I'm not a psychopath, in case you're wondering” he said- he laughs, so ok, plus he reads her mind … “But…last night…. listen, I rarely feel comfortable with people I don't know, but you, it was so easy, I had the impression that we had some kind of connexion, and that doesn't happen often to me, so, ….well I would have liked to get to know you better… without the alcohol”, he finishes with a sweet smile. - She wasn't used to this kind of thing either, but... there, something told her that she had to get out of her comfort zone, take the chance and accept!........ Which she did.

[moonspirit]

HI HELLO WOFE!!

For the questions game!

3, 7, 5, 12, 14, 20, 31, 35

-Clouds ☁️

HELLO WAIF!!! This got long cuz I can't shut up, so under the cut #_#

3 - 3 films you could watch for the rest of your life and not get bored of? OOOOkay! Interstellar, Titanic, and Your Name (although other equally strong contenders are the Avatar movies (james cameron), any Ghibli movie, and The Martian, which I remember you love too T^T Yay common movie!)

7 - what scares you the most and why? Forgetting. More than being forgotten, which doesn't really bother me, it's forgetting. Even if a portion of my life has been dark or bleak, there's been a lot of nice things to appreciate even then; I try to write it all down in a journal every day. I think life's value is really all the moments and memories that fill up over time; I'm scared of a day coming when I don't remember all the lovely things I've encountered in my life.

5 - what made you start your blog? Ahh... I've honestly been here a long time xD Since late 2013 or early 2014, I don't remember very well, but O L D. At first I just started one to post my graphic designing pieces, but then stayed for the fandom culture and very specific humour which made me feel at home. I've left now and then, but I've always come back.

12 - what’s some good advice you want to share? This is tricky, because I give myself advice, and don't follow it #_# But something that has helped me a lot is to see only the present moment as truly valuable, and to soak in every bit of that, in touch, taste, smell and seeing. That way you've lived that minute or that hour, fully, and even if you don't get to live the next, you can find some peace. Why I say it helped me is because I always fret about the future, about whether this or that will happen, etc, and this shut up all those unwanted anxieties. 'Now' matters. Tomorrow will come, but I'll deal with it when it comes.

14 - what’s something you’ve always wanted to do but maybe been to scared to do? I think... to live more spontaneously? XD I'm a planned/organized person, I need to see things on an agenda to breathe easy lmao. I envy people who can just live everyday spontaneously as it comes, without a care in the world.

20 - favourite things about the night? EVERYTHING!!!!! ALL OF IT!!!!! I love most the drop in temperature, the silence, the occasional owls and bats, and also the lights in the distance. I live in a suburb, and while the immediate vicinity isn't bustling with noise and is mostly covered with trees and wildnerness, I can see the city in the distance. I like watching the pinpricks of moving vehicles, and wondering where they're going and to whom. The best thing of course, is the night sky. I spend inordinate amounts of time studying the stars and constellations haha xD Still don't have a telescope to see Jupiter's moons, but! one day! soon!

31 - are you messy or organised? V E R Y organized. Though in times of stress, it devolves into organized chaos, but still organized. My phase of using colour coded memo pads and cute stationery has long gone (tho I still love cute stationery T^T), so I just keep things simple now. A list. Ticked off. Etc.

35 - do you trust easily? Yeah. I shouldn't, given some stupid shit that happened some years back, but I still do xD I like to believe people are good (which is strange considering I hate human interaction, but then I suppose it applies to people I form bonds with, like you!)

HAVE I EXPOSED MYSELF ENOUGH YET??? AM I STILL GOOD TO MARRY???

[jonathanbyersphd]

⭐️

Hi Faith, tysm for the ask bc I get to talk about my baby.

OK so I LOVE everything about we'll be a fine line, we'll be alright like it's one of my favorite fics I've ever written but ANYWAYS SPECIFICALLY this part:

"No uh I'm going to the Wheelers for dinner" he rattles off. "Oh" "Yea" he smiles hesitantly. "You're not going to the Wheelers too?" She asks Will. "Can I???" Will exclaims, lighting up like he's getting away with something. "No" Jonathan answers gravely. "Jonathan!" She scolds. "Mom, seriously?" He begs. "What I'm sure Karen-" "Can't I just" he starts before stopping himself to rethink his words "I can bring Will next time I promise but tonight I'd like to go alone if that's ok" His eyes are flitting around the room but can't seem to meet hers and she wonders if he's lying about his dinner plans. For a minute, she's about to tell him that she knows about the vodka. And then ask what else he's lying about. She’s pretty sure she’s smelled weed on him a couple times. She’s dying to ask how stupid he thinks she is. To pick a fight, just to feel something. But his expression is so soft and concerned. And she recoils, remembering that she swore she'd never be as cruel as her mother. "Ok honey" she concedes. Jonathan nods, ruffles Will's hair, and kisses her on the cheeks before leaving the kitchen. "Jonathan" she calls after him. "Yea" he responds, stopping dead in his tracks in the living room. "Why don't you put your black sweater over your shirt. It matches better" she advises.

Like we've got Jonathan (You're on your own kid coded) nervous as HELL for his first dinner at the Wheeler's as Nancy's boyfriend. We have Will (precious angel bby) being a complete SHITHEAD about it. And lastly, we have Joyce (Mother) who is completely overwhelmed/feeling like she's failing as a parent wanting to fight with him just because she can but pulls back.

And what I especially love about this whole sequence of first dinner events. Is that Joyce is SO close to understanding what's happening. Like she knows he's off, but she thinks it's because he's drinking. And then there's this part of her that wants to be mean but the thing that holds her back is her own generational trauma. (and I imagine also a little unconscious fear that if she pushes him too far she'll lose one of the few supports she has, bc themes of her unintentional parentification of him u know?) Like???

AND THEN because the inquisitive, smart, "always right" Joyce that we know is still there just below the surface she tells him to put something else on that makes him look better. (It's the sweater he wears at Murray's btw) Like she knows that this dinner is important, that he wants to go alone, and she tells him what will make a better impression to the point that there's also this line after he leaves:

She hears him pop into his room and then he's out the door. His car turns over just as she sits down. It's only then that it registers how weird a dinner invitation without Will is. Maybe he and Nancy are more friends than study buddies, he is teaching her how to drive after all. Then again maybe they finally… but no. No, no, that’s just her old fantasy talking.

Like subconsciously she KNOWS they're together but she's so filled with grief, depression, etc. that she deep in denial.

This is also one of the scenes that I wish I wrote from Jonathan's POV in a separate fic. Because I imagine that he hasn't been able to go to 'Meet The Parents' dinner this whole time and he feels so guilty. But a couple days before he promises Nancy he can finally do it. (and she's so happy and he's so in love with her) Because Mom's doing better, surely they can get on without him for a couple hours. And it's important to him, like he wants to be a Good™️ boyfriend. (that boy is desperate for parental approval I know it in my heart) But then he comes home and Joyce is hiding in her room, and he's like fuck. So he makes an easy dinner for her and Will, while he's getting ready but he can't figure out his tie and he can't ask Joyce because she has her own problems. (Jonathan feeling like a burden for needing to parented is so important to me) BUT HE STILL GOES TO DINNER. Like it's such a beautiful moment of Jonathan struggling with what he feels like he has to do and what he wants to do and picking what he wants. (a little independence as a treat). There's also a very cute moment of Nancy (who's been watching from her window) cutting him off before he rings the doorbell so she can frantically put a tie on him before Ted can start shit.

ANYWAYS, clearly I could talk about this fic for a while

Send me a fanfic director's cut ask

[duskwoodgirl4life]

This is a sequel too We're Not Friends Anymore you once again a massive thank you too the wonderful @ophiume for working with me on this amazing idea.

Check out my masterslist list here for We're Not Friends Anymore

Jake's POV

Things happen for all kinds of reason's this is my story of how things unfolded and how I met the love of my life.

Chapter 1

A lot of things can happen in your life some good, other times bad things can happen it all started when Sophie Adams 34 married Mark Donfort. They had a little boy Jake he was 3 years old, Sophie loved her son dearly and would do anything for him. Unlike her husband who didn't pay much attention too him. He was always too busy doing things in his own life that he enjoyed doing. Sophie and Mark had been married for 3 years it was a rocky relationship, but Sophie wanted too make it work for Jake's sake.

The last few days Sophie and Mark had been arguing more than usual, Mark stormed out of the house slamming the door behind him. Jake started too get upset and the tears fell, Sophie scooped him up in her arms holding him close with one hand rubbing his back. Awhile later Mark had come back he had been drinking the smell of alcohol lingered on his breath. He always tried sweet talking Sophie wrapping his arms around her waist. She didn't want too start another argument for Jake's sake, so she just went along with it and let him kiss her up and down her neck.

The next morning Sophie got up too make breakfast Mark was still in a good mood who wouldn't be after what he got last night. He made his way into the kitchen putting his hands all over Sophie. Jake was sat at the table eating away and making noises this of course made Mark turn round and snap.

Mark: why can't he just shut up for 5 minutes

Sophie: Mark!! Don't talk too your son like that

Mark: he's always making a noise he needs too shut up

Sophie: that's enough Mark, leave Jake alone he's done no wrong.

Mark: I've had enough of this I'm going too work

Mark grabbed his jacket and keys slamming the door behind him, leaving Sophie and Jake in the house. While mark was at work he would often flirt with another women, a women that held a very special place in his heart. Her name is Stacy Douglas she works in the same department as mark they grew very close over the years, while still married too Sophie Mark asked Tracy for her hand in marriage. Soon the pair married it was a small ceremony with a select number of people invited.

Sophie was busy getting Jake ready for nursery, he was always so excited he loved going too nursery. Once they arrived Jake kissed his mum goodbye and ran into the play area. His favourite toy too play with was a toy computer he would sit for hours playing with it.

While Jake was at nursery Sophie went too do some shopping, she picked up what she needed plus a treat for Jake. She spotted a toy computer, just like the one he loves too play with at nursery. She just had too get it for him he was going too love it, once she was home she put the shopping away and went into Jake's bedroom and put the toy on his bed. After she had finished cleaning it was time too go pick Jake up from nursery.

Sophie grabbed her jacket and keys and went too pick up Jake, soon as she arrived Jake came running up too her and gave her a big hug. On the way home he told her about his day he played with his favourite toy, then did some painting and drawing. When they got back Mark had finished work early and was already home. He tried too act like nothing bad happened and talk too Jake. Jake wouldn't go near him and hid behind his mum's legs.

Mark: what's all that about?

Sophie: what do you expect, after what happened this morning

Mark: that was nothing, he should know I won't hurt him

Sophie: Mark, he's only little you act like that and he's going too get scared

Mark: I don't have time for this, I need too go get a shower, the office need me too go cover for another branch so I will be away for 2 weeks.

Sophie: your just telling me this now?

Mark: i didn't know before, look I need too go get sorted we can sort this out when I get back.

Sophie picked up Jake giving him a hug and sat him down on his chair.

Sophie: looks like it's just me and you for a while Jake

Jake: yay, me and mummy and no daddy