#their friends and that /really/ hurt the accused

[please-destroy]

You'd Like That

Elizabeth Olsen x Reader

Word Count: 1K

.

You’d thrown her off. You could tell. 

Lizzie’s smile was dimmed. She leaned her chin against her hand, watching you from the other side of the small party. Her forehead was furrowed, her finger touched her lower lip without her realising.

You looked down at your drink. It was all your fault.

.

You’d been close friends for years. For a long time, you’d floated around in the same social circles, never really saying more than a few words to each other. 

Then, there’d been a slightly too drunk get together organised by a mutual friend. 

That evening quickly became something unexpectedly perfect. You’d spent hours talking with her in someone else’s backyard, wrapped in old blankets that you’d found when she’d started shivering. You talked for hours about every subject, laughing more than you’d ever laughed with someone before. 

When you left that party in the early morning, you’d wondered if this was one of those magic nights. Or, if Lizzie might really become a friend. 

She called you the next afternoon and answered your question with her nonchalant greeting and conversation.

Her friendship quickly became the best part of your life. 

Life doesn’t follow the routes you expect. This was one of the good unexpected turns. 

Lizzie was not lowkey. That was a common misconception. 

You remembered the first time she called you from a Whole Foods. It had taken a ten minute ramble about grocery choices until you realised the subtle anxiety in her voice. The fear of making a mistake, the many ways it could manifest. 

She apologised after the call. A line of texts, where she made fun of herself. 

The world shifted on its axis and you saw Lizzie clearly then. 

‘Call me whenever, I’ll never mind.’ You’d replied simply.

Lizzie didn’t trust easily. That was true.

It’s how you knew you were special. It was so easy to find a rhythm with her, to live on the same wavelength.

Every year for her birthday, you spent the day together. Every year, you told her that you loved her. That she’d made your year better.

Lizzie would smile, roll her eyes and wrap you in a hug. 

You knew that you were special to her but you’d been careful not to jump to conclusions. 

Until, of course, you’d said something stupid. Something honest. And Lizzie had left. 

.

Now, at the party, as you refilled your drink and tried to ignore the loud music, you realised that you’d likely ruined everything.

The thought settled on your shoulders like a heavy weight, a ready nausea filling your throat. You left your untouched drink on a side-table. You craned your neck, scouting for Lizzie in the crowd.

You saw her dim silhouette on the small balcony and headed over. 

Her pale face turned towards you as you slid open the french doors. Lizzie was sitting on an ancient wicker chair that looked close to collapse. It creaked as she moved to face you.

‘We should talk.’ You suggested softly.

Lizzie’s long hair shifted over her shoulder as she nodded in agreement. Her fingers trailed the edge of the balcony railing. 

‘Did you always like me like that?’ She asked abruptly. ‘Is that why you started talking to me?’

Her cool tone made you nervous. You wondered if this was pointless, if everything had already unravelled.

‘No.’ You answered slowly, careful in your honesty. ‘Just a little bit more every day.’

Lizzie’s expression faltered. You could tell it wasn’t what she’d expected. She crossed her legs and you couldn’t help but notice her bare skin.

‘Since I got bigger movie deals?’ Lizzie asked, accusation barely hidden. 

A flash of hurt ran through you.

‘No.’ You tried to keep a level tone. ‘Since the day you called me at Whole Foods.’

Lizzie shook her head.

‘That doesn’t make sense.’ She said quietly.

You shrugged, staying silent as sadness rolled through you. This felt pointless, you’d already lost her. You’d already made the confession that you couldn’t undo. A wave of grief was burgeoning. You wondered if you’d drown. 

You slipped your arms out of your sweater and pulled it over your head.

‘Every year, I spend Valentine’s Day excited that your birthday is only two days away.’ You told her quietly. You handed her your sweater and nodded down to her bare legs, hoping she’d use it as a blanket. She always got cold on nights like these.

‘I’m sorry I fucked it up.’ You told her softly. Lizzie’s eyes reflected distant stars back at you. 

You walked back into the party with the distinct feeling that you were no longer yourself.

.

With no alcohol in you, you decided to leave and walk the few streets back to your place. The cold air countered the twisted grief burning up your insides.

You walked with a mind full of Lizzie. 

Valentine’s Day was tomorrow. You couldn’t care less, not anymore. 

You thought about her birthday in three days. You tried not to think about her smile, about how quickly a person can become a memory. You hoped Lizzie wouldn’t be alone for it.

.

You turned the corner of your street. 

Lizzie was stepping out of an Uber at your front door. She was wearing your sweater, her hair was caught beneath it. She straightened at the sight of you, raising her hand in a tentative wave.

You walked closer, heart in your mouth. Unfiltered surprise was running through your veins.

‘Why Whole Foods?’ Lizzie asked when you were in hearing distance. ‘Why did it start then?’

You laughed suddenly, at the most obvious unanswerable question in the world.

‘Why not?’ You countered. ‘It had to happen some time.’

Lizzie watched you like you were something brand new. A silence fell between you before she spoke again.

‘Valentine’s Day is tomorrow.’ Lizzie told you seriously, fingers playing with the sleeves of your sweater. ‘We have nothing planned, and I actually had other plans. Not with anyone, not anything like that. But, I’d still have to cancel them. And I had errands to run in the afternoon.’

You recognised the familiar tone of Lizzie’s anxiety. You realised suddenly that she was just scared. 

You took her hand, twining your fingers and giving a quick squeeze.

‘We could just get groceries.’ You suggested with a soft smile.

Lizzie let out a shaky breath, her lips quirked upwards. She squeezed your hand back.

‘Yeah.’ She teased. ‘You’d like that.’

[harmeu]

ARGUMENTS 

(HSR X READER) (ANGST)

(Amphoreus Men)

(GN!READER)

MYDEI: (His devotion to his fight which results in neglect.)

You couldn’t remember the last time you and your beloved spouse had talked to each other. It was as if Mydei’s mind was constantly on things that neglected you heavily. Even a simple “How are you today”  would’ve been enough at this point. It hurt a lot. As if millions of daggers pierced you everytime Mydei walked past without saying anything. You were his lover for God’s sake.

Mydei was in the training room punching dummies with ease, letting them break into shards as they thumped onto the ground, his knuckles bleeding heavily from the constant fight.

You stepped in peeking through the small opening of the door with your wide gaze contemplating to yourself if you should walk in and say something or not. 

Eventual acceptance of the option ‘yes’ overthrew your mind so you walked in and Mydei’s keen senses picked up on it immediately.

“What is it.” His gruff reply made it sound like he was annoyed. (Which he probably was.) 

“You’ve been busy lately.” You mumbled out moving from one foot to another a bit nervous to how he was going to reply.

“Of course I am. You know my duties.” Mydei went back to smashing his fists against the solid wooden dummies as you winced at the sight and decided to walk up, up to him.

“I miss you.” You murmured out making Mydei freeze slightly and you could’ve sworn he softened. But as fast as it came it vanished. Mydei was back to his tense state. 

“You should know everything I deal with in a singular day.”

“But I’m your lover!” You exclaimed out flinching at your own tone of voice and words making Mydei turn looking at you in your eye for the first time. 

“That doesn’t matter.” He huffed out. Okay wow. Now it was your turn to be cruel.

“No wonder everyone finds you difficult.” You spat back leaving the door slamming heavily making the walls vibrate as Mydei stared dumbfounded at the shut door clenching his fists.

PHANION: (Accusations that result in anger.)

Phanion was a gentle soul with you. The perfect boyfriend in your eyes. Though as days passed you had a weird gut feeling. As if he was talking to someone other than you. Not possible. Right. The constant ‘they’re just a friend’ sounded like a lie. But you didn’t have any proof. Not yet at least.

Phanion was sitting on your local bench quietly reading as you walked up to him with a half lidded gaze of suspicion. Feeling your hard gaze Phanion sighed, shutting his book and standing up to match your height.

“Don’t give me that look.” Phanion murmured frowning with a pained expression on his face making you feel a hint of guilt. 

“It’s just that you’re constantly not letting me meet your friends at all. As if you’re hiding something from me.” Your fists clenched, eyeing up at Phanion as he narrowed his own gaze at your words.

“I do not let you meet them in order for them to not do anything to you darling.” Lies. You repeated in your head. You were being unreasonable. You knew that. But your gut feeling never failed you. 

“I don’t believe you.” You said spitefully making Phanion droop in hurt as you frowned at his reaction. You were expecting anger.

“Why don’t you trust me?” Phanion said holding your hand. He really had to pull that card out didn’t he.

“I do..I just.” As if knowing you were in the wrong, the only option left in your mind was to get out of the scene immediately. You let go of Phanions hand shakily leaving Phanion standing next to the bench alone as he stared at your slowly disappearing figure with a pained look.

ANAXA: (His anger towards the Gods.)

You knew your spouse's hatred towards the Gods. It never bothered you really because the people of Amphoreus worshipped titans rather than the Aeons above. Though Anaxa seemed to be solely focused on that singular emotion of hatred removing everything else in his life. Including you.

You were sitting in bed with Anaxa as he fixed up his eyepatch with his usual elegance as he eyed the several books in front of him that talked about the several elements the Gods gave down to the mortals.

“Anaxa.” You mumbled out tilting your head as Anaxa hummed out a reply as you frowned. “Why are you so focused on this subject?” 

Anaxa sighed at your words as if he was contemplating you speaking out on this matter and turned his gaze towards you. 

“You don’t know what these Aeons have done to our people. They’re vultures.” Anaxa spat out with seeming elegance despite his harsh words. 

“I feel like you’re forgetting about everything to focus on this.” You said a hushed whisper as Anaxa narrowed his gaze.

“That’s utter lies darling. I have enough mindspace to deal with everything.” You stared at him blankly. You doubted it at this point honestly.

“I feel like you’re lying.” Silence dawned between the two of you at your words as if rendering Anaxa speechless from your statement. Which added onto your doubt from his quietness. 

Silently Anaxa grabbed his things and left. 

Did he just storm off?

I post in like once a century oopsie (Since I don't know anything about the characters personalities I went off looks and the trailers)

[allthebooksandcrannies]

My parents and I have been getting back into Superman and Lois after only seeing the first season as it was coming out, and my mom asked me why I think it doesn't bother me so much when the characters are making objectively rash or illogical decisions/accusations, suggesting maybe it was because I was already so bought into the DC fandom in general that it didn't bother me.

At the time I didn't have an answer for her other than knowing that wasn't the reason, since it definitely does annoy and frustrate me, but I've been thinking about it. Bc yeah, I'm still enjoying the show a lot and am getting more and more into the show, while the last three shows I tried getting into with them, my dad and I both tapped out bc we were cringing too much at the characters choices. So what was different with Superman and Lois?

And I think the answer is Clark.

Not only because there is truth to my mom pointing out how much I love a well-written Superman (and Tyler being my favorite on-screen version of the character), but also bc Clark's usually the member of the main cast making the "best" choices: compartmentalizing in a crisis, prioritizing safety over ego or temporary emotions but also treating emotional health as important and worth occasionally taking careful risks for. He balances the paranoia and coldness of characters like early General Lane by knowing when to put his family and friends first, but he also can put aside the personal when needed, whether that's putting aside a grudge to team up with a former antagonist or being the voice of reason when Lois or one of the boys are making a dangerous or hurtful choice/behavior bc they're caught up in an emotional response.

And when this Clark does mess up, it's usually pretty justified and he still recognizes and apologizes for it without making excuses. And then he actually does better in the future bc he learns from his mistakes, which is so refreshing to see.

The other shows I was struggling to get into, the protagonist was either the problem or just as bad as the other characters with making decisions with easily foreseeable negative consequences for potential little reward, not learning from those mistakes and repeating them, and then acting like the very foreseeable consequences were totally unpredictable and not at all their fault. This makes it really, really hard to get invested in these characters and their shows bc I'm torn between second hand embarrassment and wanting to shout "I told you so" at the screen.

But i CAN root for Superman and Lois's Clark Kent. And the characters who are making choices that feel obviously unwise to me (an adult with adult regulation skills) are usually the teenage characters who are acting in completely age-appropriate ways for teenagers. The teenagers are written exactly like children of their age, with all the short-sightesness, emotional regulation issues, and black-and-white morality that goes with it. And these conflicts and character flaws make the story better bc the writers give them the respect they deserve. Yeah, a teenager is going to think that his first love is going to last forever, and yeah, his adult parents are going to know that's unlikely and immature, and yeah, that doesn't make it any less meaningful to him at that moment. The writers get teenagers and the way that everything is bigger to them bc of their life stage in a way that few shows tend to understand and fully explore, especially among shows not written solely for teens.

[velvetvexations]

--- somehow i don't think the trans radfem movement thinks aphobia is a fine word to exist

It's almost quaint. Almost.

Why is there a wave of trans radfems defending 4chan boards

I'm going to need to be pointed to this if only because I'm going to get dinged for spreading malicious lies about trans women being "Nazis" otherwise, but lmfao if true.

wtf kind of hill is txttletale dying on now?

I mean she's still a tankie fuck but apparently now she's also getting in on the transmisogynistic harassment campaign game.

isn't "doll" specifically a fetish term? that is really not something people should be applying to other people without making sure it's ok first.

No, it's a Black ballroom term that trans women started running with.

People on this site are taking pissing on the poor to a whole new goddamn level “telling people that this person is/has sexually harassed someone who was a minor is calling everyone with their identity a pedophile”, I’d blame the school system but that really was a choice not to actually read and relay

it's definitely malicious

joan jett in the mv for i hate myself for loving you is like, unbearably beautiful

so true

it’s so obvious that these people choose to isolate themselves in a dimension crafted out of their own self-hatred that they care more about hurting their oppressors (and people who don’t even oppress them) than uplifting people hurt by systems of oppression. sometimes i think i’m bad but then i come across people like that and realise i’m relatively well-adjusted

inspiring innit

post addressed to trans women from a trans woman about trans women –> trfs in the notes: “why are you telling me to be nice to trans men?”

they have their priorities

absolutely wild to say that transunitists are 2010-reddit-style mras and then say things like "afab privilege." yeah those afabs with their wielding of power. and i bet they get free drinks at every bar and their bosses promote them for being pretty, huh.

they get upset at having their logic compared to MRAs because it's implicit misgendering (never mind that they directly call random trans men MRAs and radfems as well) but I'm not sure what they expect when they talk at length about how all of those fucking evil AFAB bitches are just waiting for their chance to screw you over with a false rape accusation

"pick me" is AAVE, and, like all white girls, they're overusing and misusing it until it has no meaning left 🙄

I actually wasn't aware of that. Neat. Disputed? See replies.

a lot of this going on is just reminding me once again of the intense monogenderism that really never gets worked on. It’s super awkward as a multigendered individual and an intersex one

it also just really feels so fucking tone ignorant the way people talk.

society still calls traits of men or masc, some even actively choose to agree while still being a counter to it gender but obviously real trans women don’t so attacking those things would never hurt them, and multigender trans woman who are also men? Obviously fake.

the English language is so fucking insufficient

I honestly wish every asshole who seems to think the ability to mask as complete cis and definitely just your assigned gender is a privilege had to live in my head for the holiday season. I am entirely in the closet with my family because of bigotry I have no other choice than living with my family for multiple reasons I just spent the entire winter holiday pretending to be a woman answering to my deadname being called aunty and sister and daughter and not being able to say jack shit about it without even being able to retreat to the solace of my friends afterwards because they are all busy with their own families. I want those assholes to experience the emotions and thoughts I just went through and come out the otherside and see if they still think that this is a fucking privilege.

Love you anon. <3

that anon telling on themselves so hard saying transmisogynys "far deeper" than transphobia. literally why on earth would you phrase it like that if the point was anything besides "my *special* oppression is way more poignant and meaningful than your boring regular oppression"

lmao right though it's so obviously just trying to mark their thing as having more dramatic flair

do you keep a backup of your blog with a program like tumblthree? there's a lot of valuable posts on it, and tumblr is almost distressingly transitory.

I don't, but noted.

[arcxnumvitae]

strawberryxdreams​ said: You know, I’m kinda team Ru in this. I think his response was fair and Aur deserved it. Go Ru!

I think everything ultimately came down to a difference in personalities, and the context of their dynamics and hangups with each other. Basically, I could see fault on both sides in this case. Aur’s a thinker and Ruaidhri’s a feeler, to Aur it didn’t feel like taboo ground to state the obvious truth “Mikael will die. You knew this? You had options to spare the both of you the pain of parting like that.” And there was definitely no malice or ill intent in it, Aur was mostly confused. But for where he went wrong, I think just because something seems logical to you still doesn’t make matters as simple as you might think they are, especially if you’re looking at how someone else may be feeling about the topic. And just because something is the truth doesn’t mean you shouldn’t still try to, you know, say it in an understanding or compassionate way that is considerate of what the person is going through. No matter what, Ruaidhri is facing the loss of someone important to him and he should have tried to think of a gentler way to phrase what he wanted to say.

Whereas Ruaidhri, the feeler, is like “I love him, I still can’t leave him even if I know this is inevitably destined towards sorrow.” His outburst actually wouldn’t have been as impassioned or severe had it not been for the conversation he had previously with his dad, or the way this precise issue has been gnawing against him for the past while.” But Ruaidhri I think went too far in his ‘heartless’ accusations, just because someone doesn’t emote the same way as you do or you misunderstand their intentions in what you say means they lack empathy or care (with this, I think of a lot of stereotypes and accusations ASD or neurodivergent people face for not outwardly emoting in the way other people expect them to). Like, aside from doing it in this moment of anger, it doesn’t make sense to accuse Aur of being heartless-- the man was the one who actively worked to fix things between Mikael and Ruaidhri when it would have solved more of his problems to ignore things and let the marriage continue. And I personally feel like deceased relatives, especially if it was recent and especially if it was painfully traumatic, should just not be mentioned in sensitive moments of emotion like that.

The core of Aur’s issue and character to me since he was first added has always been the way people find him disconcerting or hard to befriend because it’s always difficult to tell what he’s thinking or feeling. Ruaidhri’s at the time I added him was, funnily, that his life had kind of always revolved around the crown whether he liked it or not, not as internal as Aur’s personality thing but eh.

Then we also get into the issues of their pasts. Ruaidhri’s continuing lowkey grudge again Aur casually defining his entire life by virtue of being born to be married to him. And then Aur’s jealousy of Ruaidhri for living what he feels like is such a blissfully carefree and selfish existence, to the point where he could ditch the engagement and run off to the mortal world with his lover. I don’t think I’ve really talked about that stuff on Aur’s end though. Anyways, those underlying tensions also make them more susceptible to sour emotions towards the other.

Um...wow this got long. tl;dr: I think they both could have handled this better and they’ve got some stuff to work through.

[yoohyeon]

Here’s the various spreadsheet of vetted gfm :

Gaza vetters : list

(not sure what is happening 100% but they vetted a lot of these campaigns so I will still mention them and you decide if you donate or not but I believe in the fvndraisers )

Olive Branch : list

Gaza evacuation : list

Bees and watermelon : list

Butterfly effect : list

Other post of fvnraisers in the here! | I’m the same person @/juvian, so I won’t answer asks there only on here (and will reblog on both)

Here’s some people that who reach out to me (as of November 29th 2024) :

@ahmadgaza1 / @ahmed-gaza0 : vetted by gaza vetters #300 - 2 584$ USD / 30 000$ USD

@rewaida6 / @rewaida7 / @dh-maher : vetted by gaza vetters #35 - 4 695€ / 30 000€

@hossamqazaz12 : vetted by gaza vetters #287 - 388€ / 55 000€

@nesma-family-gaza-city : vetted by gaza vetters #301 - 35$ / 25 000$

@walidhany : vetted by gaza vetters #175 - 50$ / 20 000$

@shahdgaza-2 / @shahdgaza2 : vetted by association - 2 691$ USD / 10 000$ USD

@rubafayez / @mohamedfd : vetted by association - 10$ USD / 40 000$ USD

@abedallhferwanagaza / @olaferwana : vetted by gaza vetters #60 - 16 347€ / 35 000€

PLEASE REBLOG !!! And donate if you want !

[honeysunchild]

It really hurts when it feels like a friend you considered family gives up on you and the relationship

Like, we could have talked about it, we could have found a solution together, we were each others family remember?! But instead you chose to just give up and cut me out

[tenok]

.

[katierosefun]

hm i know the jedi order wasn’t perfect and i know that it was all politics but. ugh thinking about the wrong jedi arc again and yes i know the council was so sorry about how things happened to ahsoka but the way there will always be a tiny, tiny part of me that’s. like. scream. you’ve known this kid for years you know who she is. how can you believe that she’d really do something like this why didn’t you fight harder for her of course she’s not gonna come back how do you think she’s gonna come back when she thinks that her entire family betrayed her over the course of two seconds and it’s like. like all things, the situation is so much more nuanced and layered than that but thinking about the full brunt of that and also. hm yes maybe unpopular opinion ahsoka deserved to be a little bit bitchy at the council when she saw them again! i think she should have been a little bitchier

[overworked-bookworm]

.

let me drop some drama on y’all — in the last year + 7 days, I:

reconnected with multiple friends from high school at a wedding I legally officiated for two old friends

realized in hindsight that I had liked one of our classmates when we were in school, who had attended the wedding and was now recently divorced

started talking to him very often and, by proxy, the husband I officiated the wedding for

started an on-off flirtation with the divorced friend — [clarification: HE started it, but I was very receptive when I realized what he was doing, it just took me a while]

became the “dump my mental health problems” friend for the husband^ who I’ve said is like a baby brother to me for *checks calendar* 12+ years

was accused by my friend’s wife AND the friend that I was flirting with that I was having an affair with the husband or at least harboring romantic feelings for him

she also accused me of behaving like her abusive mother, when I told her she was out of line for even thinking I would have an affair with (1) her husband (2) who I kept saying was like a baby brother to me

held an intervention for the husband about his ragingly out of control anxiety, where he proceeded to, like, beat the windows of the car and yell and be violent [not at me but around me and I was very triggered and scared] — after which he said he couldn’t trust me anymore because I was projecting my anxiety onto him, and he was fine

fell into an episode of psychosis because I was surrounded by people who didn’t trust me for reasons they’d all made up in their heads, and were all mad at me for ❤️

[while in psychosis] dealt with the guy I was flirting with talking about wanting to sleep with his coworker, and being very on/off + hot/cold with me — which I wrote off as post-divorce emotional problems I just needed to be patient through lmao

[while in psychosis] dealt with the husband’s mental breakdown about never wanting to get married in the first place, dragging my family and the family of the guy I was flirting with into the mess — we got the husband pink slipped and I stopped talking to him and his wife

was told by the friend that had been flirting with me that he’d been leading me on, as he proceeded to ditch me for another friend that I helped him reconnect with — but promised me that we were besties and nothing would change!! (how kind. also? he broke that promise immediately and called me difficult)

dealt with his new girlfriend lying to me about them not being together, because no!! hoes before bros, Alex, I would never date someone who hurt my friend!! but also you need to be personally accountable for feeling hurt!!

there’s more in the way they’ve both treated me since he decided he was done with me, but my therapist and I are still parsing through it

turns out I probably don’t need to be taking Ativan twice a day and sleeping after work + all night bc of the high dosage, I just needed to start cutting out bad friends! my anxiety has never been more managed now that I’ve decided to listen to every other friend that’s told me these ones were all no good for me! I do need the anti-psychotics, though. I heard voices for 2 months and it was NOT a good time.

I didn’t have this much drama in my life ten years ago when we were actual children — the next time I start posting about liking a man, someone remind me that it brings me absolute misery. None of this would have happened if I hadn’t wanted to hop on his dick 🙄🙄🙄

[puthyflapps]

I saw this tiktok that said “ain’t nothing better than finally sleeping with the man your ex always accused you of sleeping with” and all I could think of was ranya au with Luna as the ex 🤭

In that angsty ranya au we were all talking about last week, I did put in the tags that they were engaging in a smidge bit of adulterous behavior 🫣🤭🤭🤭 so that situation was more like, “ain’t nothing better than sleeping with the man your ex always accused you of sleeping with and that you actually did sleep with”

But I also love the idea of a love triangle au where ranya swear up and down to everyone and even themselves that they’re not in love with each other, they’re just best friends 🙄🙄 which is a blatant lie that anyone with at least two brain cells could see through. And like they do everything to prove (mainly to themselves let’s bffr) that there’s nothing between them and Raven even goes so far as to start dating Luna. Granted, Raven’s in her denial era so she doesn’t recognize that she��s basically forcing herself to love Luna. She likes her but she’s not in love with her and she never will be. Not while Anya is on this earth brooding around in that cute grumpy way that Raven loves so much.

[nandorisms]

.

[caffeinatedopossum]

I feel like I'll never be a good artist because of my aphantasia

[ambrosiagourmet]

I want to talk about why I think this is the one of the most important Falin panels:

So, Falin is really nice, right? It's one of the first things we really learn about her. She's kind even to the monsters of the dungeon - choosing to ward the party rather than fight spirits and cause them needless harm.

In the above early flashback in chapter 11, we see Marcille fawning over Falin's kindness, calling her an angel. Namari calls her soft-hearted. We see Falin choose not to fight even when a zombie attacks - instead she resolves the confrontation with a hug. After the flashback, the first thing Senshi says is that Falin "sounds like quite the person," which Marcille strongly affirms.

At this point in the story, all we have seen of Falin are these impressions; she is a healer, an angel, a caretaker with an infinite well of kindness towards everyone she meets - both friend and foe.

And honestly, that remains most of what we have to go by to understand her. The only times we get to see Falin on the page, alive and just herself, are in the opening and closing pages of the story and in the brief period of time after she is resurrected.

Nonetheless, we do have some more details to work with. For one, there is the scene that The Panel is from - a short memory in chapter 75, when Marcille flashes back to while she's dying. In that scene, Falin prepares to teleport them all out, and says that she's sorry "if there is a person at [their] destination." And that's when we get The Panel.

If you teleport someone or something into another person, the person teleported into is likely to be, at minimum, severely injured. They could die.

We can see a lovely little horrifying example of exactly why in one of the Daydream Hour doodles:

So, hmm. That's not... that's not SUPER nice. Certainly not displaying the same "kindness to all, friend and foe included" we saw represented earlier. On a basic level, this adds some nuance to Falin's kindness. We see it break a little, when pushed to the limit. We see her chose to protect the people she loves above all else.

Which makes sense! As Laios says when the Winged Lion accuses him of similarly being motivated more by his friends' safety than everyone else in the dungeon, "...most people, aside from virtuous do-gooders, would feel the same way."

So, we can take The Panel as simply showing a moment of weakness for Falin. A time when she was pushed to her limits, and that "most people" selfish side of her shone through.

However... I think there's a little more going on with Falin than just her being an angel 99% of the time, except just that once. I love The Panel because I think it helps us understand that Falin isn't just motivated by kindness - she also has a desire to avoid seeing people in pain.

Isn't that the same thing?

No, no it very much is not.

Let's look at a short comic from the Falin section of the Adventurer's Bible, because I think it illustrates this point perfectly. The group is complaining about how much Marcille's healing hurts, and comparing it to Falin's, which "doesn't hurt a bit." Marcille retorts with the following:

Now, the punchline of this comic is that, despite Marcille's sentimental assertion that she's "thinking of [them]" by letting her healing magic hurt, they all still prefer to be healed by Falin.

But hey, this wouldn't be the first time that Dungeon Meshi hides a very real character beat or insight in a gag, so let's think about this somewhat seriously.

If Marcille is right (and she knows a fair bit about magic, so we can assume that she has at least somewhat of a point), then what Falin is doing isn't kind. I suppose if someone specifically requested to not feel the pain, it could be kind, but that's not really what happened here. She is the one who felt badly about the others being in pain, and she is the one who decided, without telling them or giving them a choice in the matter, to take away that pain.

Both Marcille and Falin are healing the party, but Marcille is doing it in a way that accomplishes the task in the most straight forward way, without any additional interference. Falin is going out of her way to perform the healing in a way she is more comfortable with. A way that avoids pain.

Going back the The Panel, I don't think its a coincidence that the only time we see Falin (well, non-chimera Falin) willing to do something that could hurt someone is when any potential pain will be far away from her. If she got someone hurt or killed by teleporting the party to the surface? Not only would it be far out of her sight, but she'd be dead before she had to deal with any consequences of that action.

Falin is not a confrontational person. She doesn't push when Marcille won't tell her the truth about the resurrection, and she comforts Laios about her own death - both of those things happening in the only full chapter she is alive and conscious in the whole story.

We also know that she considered accepting Shuro's proposal, despite not having any special feelings towards him, and that Falin never explained to Marcille that she wanted them to share a meal together. When she brought Marcille various foods at the academy, she just accepted Marcille's confused rejection and gave up.

And lastly, we know that she is still in contact with her parents, despite the neglect and abuse she suffered at their hands. Although the way someone chooses to handle contact with abusive or bad family is a complicated topic, which I don't want to overly simplify, I do I think this fact gets at the heart of how she handles conflict.

So many people that Falin loves have hurt her. There are understandable hurts, like Laios leaving the village, or Marcille not understanding the food. And there are bigger, far less justifiable hurts - like her parents neglecting her throughout her childhood, and sending her away to be alone at the magic academy.

It doesn't seem like Falin has ever confronted any of it directly.

And the unhealthy aspects of this kind of avoidance of pain and confrontation is one of the things that the story of Dungeon Meshi is all about. We see Laios grapple with it before he goes to kill Falin, and we see Marcille acknowledge it at the end of the story, when she tells Laios that she has come to terms with Falin's death:

Eating is a part of life. Consuming other living things is a part of life. It isn't really possible to avoid that pain - you can only hide from the truth of it. You have to be selfish everyday. You have to eat - to choose to live. To choose to take up space.

And this is something Falin embraces, too. She comes back to life, after all.

We see her choose to come back to life.

And how does she make that choice? She eats. She consumes, and then she is asked a question by the manifestation of hunger itself:

Do you want to eat more?

There is a double meaning in the Winged Lion's final words on the next page.

When I first read this, I took it as him saying: life is cruel. You will suffer. You will feel more pain.

But perhaps, especially for Falin, this also means: you are choosing a path where you must cause pain. Where you must consume. Where you must take, and must be selfish. Because eating is the special privilege of the living, and it is their burden, too. In order to stay alive, she will need to keep eating.

And she chooses that. Chooses to be selfish. It's why her resurrection scene is so important, and it's why The Panel is so important. Because Falin coming back isn't the ultimate reward for all of the party's hard work.

It's her choice. Just like it was her choice that started everything in the first place. But this time, she doesn't choose to accept causing pain for the sake of Marcille and Laios. She does it for her own sake.

[girlfictions]

something i’ve been thinking about lately is like. growing up muslim right after 9/11 is something i’d never really reflected on much because it was all i’d ever known — at 5, my friend’s mum didn’t let her invite me to her birthday party because i was the only brown girl in our class, at 12, my classmates would joke about my family being part of isis, at 16, my dad was interrogated by american airport security for hours — and it always stung and it always hurt but it was just the way things were because the western world hated muslims. but i don’t think i’ve ever fully comprehended the extent to which we were hated until now.

palestine is being turned into a mass graveyard. every single day there are new photos of the atrocities being carried out against them and videos of them pleading for help and still those who can actually intervene turn a blind eye. israel is claiming to only be targeting hamas “terrorists” while bombing a refugee camp. israeli police raided and assaulted a non-zionist jewish neighbourhood. israeli soldiers are posting tiktoks of them torturing captured palestinians. this is not a complicated issue and it never has been. ethnic cleansing is being committed right in front of us. and yet the western world leaders refuse to call for a ceasefire.

and while zionist organisations accuse pro-palestine demonstrations of anti-semitism, while zionist celebrities insist that they’re afraid to leave their mansions in los angeles, a six year old muslim boy was stabbed to death and his mother wounded in the same attack in chicago. a muslim doctor was murdered while sitting outside her apartment complex in texas. hundreds of peaceful protesters have been arrested (many of whom have been jewish). despite what zionists want you to believe, this is not a jewish/muslim conflict. i have so much love and gratitude to my brave jewish brothers and sisters all over the world who are condemning israel for their actions.

ultimately, israel have been granted impunity by the west. they have slaughtered thousands upon thousands of innocent palestinians. they have bombed hospitals and schools indiscriminately. they have used white phosphorus, violating the geneva convention. they have completely eradicated nearly 900 bloodlines. how many more need to be wiped out? how many more children need to be buried underneath the rubble? how many more doctors need to be confronted with the bodies of their own family members? how many more journalists need to detail the horrific acts of violence they are witnessing? what more can be done to the palestinian people that has not been done already?

i truly believe that palestine will be free one day. i believe the palestinian people will receive the justice they finally deserve. but what breaks my heart is how much they have suffered and will continue to suffer before they are deemed worthy of help. and it would be to all of our detriment if we ignored how much of a factor palestine being a predominantly muslim state has played into the way the world has reacted to their genocide.

[a-b-riddle]

Part Six

Can't stop thinking about reader finally giving the boys a taste of their own medicine. And hurting my own feelings in the process of it all. I wanted to make this a baddie reader chapter, but its just a saddie reader chapter. I played Down Bad by T.S on repeat while writing this. Y'all need to thank @blueladys-world for being my ventor for this part.

None of them came the next day to pick up the box of everything you had collected. By everything, quite literally everything. Birthday cards and gifts. Keepsakes from your time together they had given you. Even going as far as returning lingerie they had given you. You didn't want any trace of them in your home anymore. You were gonna have to work hard in rebuilding it to be your safe space once again.

You were surprised that someone from the expo had DM'd you. Renée was an author who had tried to stop by to your stand, but got too caught up in the day. She was in London, working on her next series installment and wanted to pick your brain. Writer to writer.

The two of you agreed on a time. She had mentioned wanting to try this restaurant the last time she visited and you already knew you would be putting that meal on a credit card. It was a bit of splurge, but after the past week you deserved it. You could even wear that sexy black number that had been collecting dust in your closet.

By the time you were done getting ready and squeezing into your dress, you looked more ready for a date than dinner with a colleague.

A colleague. You had a colleague!!!

The knock on the door pulled you from your girlish glee. You didn't need to guess who it was. Your friends knew to text you before they came over and Renée had agreed just to meet you at the restaurant.

It was one of them.

You didn't even t bother looking through your peephole before you opened the door to find Johnny standing there with a floral arrangement of your favorite flowers.

Johnny began to speak, afraid you were going to shut him down immediately no less. But no words came out. His eyes traveled up and down your body, taking you in.

A vision.

You wanted to snap at him that your eyes weren't located on your hips. But damn if it didn’t feel empowering seeing Johnny’s gaze gloss over.

"Fuck me." He swore, gathering his bearings before realizing you were dressed. In a sexy black dress and heels and makeup and oh, fuck you were going out. "Where are you going?"

"First off, none of your business," you said holding a finger up. "And secondly, what are you doing here?"

"Listen," "Bon-"

"The box is right there." You said pointing to a large cardboard box on the floor. "That's everything."

"If you just let me make it-"

"Up to me?" You cut him off again. "I'm over it. Really."

"Just give me a chance."

"Either you haven't spoken to the other two to know I am well and truly done with this situationship, or you’re hoping some half-ass apology and flowers will let you get a last fuck in and the skedaddle. So hopefully if it was latter, hopefully the former answered that for ya.”

So if that's all you came here for, I've got to get going. My reservation is at seven and it's rude to keep a friend waiting."

"It's been a week and you're already going on a date?" He accused.

"Who said anything about a date?" You didn't outright say it wasn't. Where would be the fun in that? “It's just dinner with a colleague.” You didn’t want to lie. It wasn’t a date. But you didn’t need to say it was a woman. “Hardly a date.”

“Look at the sight of ye!" He said, taking the opportunity to take a quick look at how deliciously your ass filled that dress. “A fookin’ dinner with a colleague. Like one of us would show up to a briefing like that.” You opened your compact. Not needed in the age of cellphones but loving the feminine touch.

There was something so... seductive about using a compact mirror to apply your lipstick.

“Kyle does have the legs for this dress.” You said, applying that lipstick he loves. That same shade that looked beautiful on your lips. The same lipstick you would mark all over Johnny’s body. “Believe what you want. Not my problem anymore.”

You put your compact back in your purse along with the lipstick in case you needed to reapply it after dinner.

Johnny's eyes zeroed in on your lips before his eyes met yours. That's when you felt it again. That undeniably spark of chemistry that you had with him. With all of them. That feeling that sucked the very breath from your lungs and for a moment all you could see was the man in front of you.

"Bonnie," he said placing his hands on your neck. His thumbs stroking your cheeks softly. "Just one more chance." He begged, his voice breaking. "I'm a fucking git, but I won't let you go again. I won't leave." You knew that when it came to promises, Johnny had proven that even if he didn't mean to break them, he had forgotten he made them in the first place.

But in that moment you didn't care. Even after everything, Meredith was right. You had loved them. Everything else had ended so shitty. John had blamed you. Kyle had only shown up until it was too late. And Simon. The last time you would ever hear his voice was after he said such cruel things to you.

No.

If you were done with Johnny, you won't let the last time he fucked you being a quick, rough fuck doggystyle before leaving you naked and alone in your bed.

No. The last time with Johnny needed to be good. It might make it harder to finally leave, but you needed this. You needed to know that he could still make love to you and not just fuck you like an animal in heat.

"Johnny?" You asked. Your mouth dangerously close to his. "I don't want you to fuck me."

"I don't have to," he said, starting to take a step back to give you some space before your hands reached his. Holding him in place.

He can't let you go. You couldn't let him go. Not yet. Just one more. You needed just one more time to get him out of your system. The closure you needed.

"Make love to me." You begged, your eyes pleading. "I need to know that I wasn't just something you wanted to fuck." You don't move as his eyes search yours, looking for reassurance. When you nod, his mouth softly touches your own.

His hands travel along your body, but never fully leave you. Sliding your neck to your back. Pulling your body closer to his. A hand placed on your hip so tightly he's afraid you might disappear.

There's no rush, no haste in his touch. His mouth not eager to devour you.

He's slow. With his hands, his tongue. Even when he picks you up and walks to your bedroom with your legs around his waist.

He doesn't throw you on the bed.

Not this time.

He lays you down. His body laying on top of yours. His hand skimming along your bare thighs, but not daring to travel any higher.

But damn you needed him. You wanted love making, but if he didn't get inside you soon, you weren't sure you could let him go after this. You weren't sure you would be able to leave.

"Johnny," you whimpered, pulling away from his mouth. "Please." You took his hand, putting it between your thigh. Aching for any friction.

He obeyed without hesitation. If you told him to get on his bark, he would in that moment. Anything to make you happy. Anything to keep you.

"Got to get you out of this dress first." He resting on his knees before he began to slide the black satin from your thighs to your stomach. You maneuvered, helping him undress you leaving you in nothing.

"I thought you liked the dress." You couldn't help, but tease. Your hand finding its home on the back of his neck, pulling you to him once more.

In a tone lacking any note of humor and in all seriousness, he looked at you. Really looking at you. Taking in how your smile reached your beautiful eyes before he said, "I want you bare to me when I take you."

You felt your stomach flutter at his words before he began to take off his clothes.

He joined you again. His body relaxing when they got between your legs again. His mouth traveled from your exposed neck to your nipples. Sucking and flicking them with his tongue until your back arched. Pressing harder into his mouth.

Your hands tangled in his soft brown hair before you boldly guided him to your already dripping core. He slid down your body before his hands began to push your knees apart until you were fully expose to him.

With your knees bent, Johnny settled on his stomach, placing soft kisses on your soft inner thighs. God, did he love seeing you squirm. He smiled at your tortured expression before looking down at your sex. "There she is." He said before placing a kiss on your pussy.

It wasn't sloppy. He wasn't diving in and licking at your center like so many times before. He was kissing it just as tenderly as he kissed your mouth. Slowly building it deeper and deeper. Adding tongue. Breaking away to readjust his head.

The delicious ache between your thighs began to become to unbearable. "Need you inside me." You panted. "Johnny-"

"Shhh." He soothed. "Got to warm you up first , Bonnie." He said before slipping his finger inside of you. One was all it took before your head settled against the pillows again. When your body relaxed, he added another. He would need to add three to make sure you were good and ready.

His digits stroked that spongy spot inside of you that made your toes curl. "You're barely fitting around my fingers." Johnny was a good 6 inches in length, but the girth is what always did you in. It hurt to take anything past his head into your mouth. If you fucked him without any preparation, especially after a week of no sex, he would tear you into too.

His tongue caressed your clit, your eyes squeezing shut as you felt your first orgasm creeping up on you.

"Johnny." You moaned, your fingers running through his soft brown hair.

"Give it to me, beauty." He panted. "Come on my face. Squeeze my fingers, Lass." He begged before his mouth went back to you.

It was like lightning. Your body now sensitive after being forsaken for so long. Your vision blurred and before you could process it, Johnny was sitting on his haunches between your legs, stroking his cock.

You could only nod, dazed and barely keeping a grip onto the reality of what this was.

The end.

He leaned forward, his cock nestling against you. You knew this was going to be nothing compared to his fingers. "Tell me if I need to stop."

You smiled, mockingly. Reminding him, "Not our first time together, Johnny." just our last.

"You were wrapped tight around my fingers." He gave a half smile before kissing your forehead. The gesture like a knife twisting in your heart. "I just don't want to hurt you."

"I'm ready." You brought your legs around his waist again. Pulling him to you, your arms wrapping around his neck as your mouths meet.

He presses into you. The head of his cock sliding inside just one or two inches. You body contracting around him in a small spasm. He swallows your moan and lets you adjust. He pulls away before looking down where the two of you meet.

"I could die like this, Lass." He said, his breath coming out unsteady as he tries his best to control himself. So close to just burying himself inside of you to the fucking hilt. "Seeing you like this is this first thing I want to see when I make it to the other side." You let out a choked cry as he pushes deeper inside you. Another inch. And another. And another until you're taking all of him.

He slurs something that sound like "fuck", but you are in too much of a daze to care. You arch into him, trying to get closer.

His thrusts are slow and deep. His pubic bone brushing against your clit making you whine and squirm. Begging for more.

You're not sure how long he had fucked you like that.

You needed it to stop.

You couldn't handle it. The softness. His words.

I could die like this, Lass.

Your lip quivered as you told him you wanted to be on top. You needed a moment. A chance to create a bit of space before he shattered your world yet again.

He pulled out. His absence already making you ache for him again before he settled beside you.

You squatted above his cock. Your feet flat against the mattress as you grabbed his hardness and slipping it inside of you. The sound you let out was pornographic. A high pitched, soft moan slipping from your lips as he buried himself inside of you again.

You placed you hands on his chest. Using the leverage to ride him. Your arms serving as barrier for you to get your bearings.

You used his body just as he had used yours. Throwing your head back, you moved faster and faster. Readjusting so your hands went from his chest to his stomach, giving him a better view of your connecting bodies.

His hand slips between the two of you, thumb pressing against your clit, and you tighten even more around. A needy whimper coming out of your throat. The sound mixing in with the sounds of his labored breathing and slapping skin as he begins to fuck up into you.

Even though he had been doing all the work for the last several minutes, you felt the tension start to creep into your calf.

"Fuck fuck fuck." You screech, barely able to hold yourself up any longer. "Ow." You hissed as the cramp took hold.

"Leg cramp?" He asked, not even faltering in his thrusts. You pathetically nod before he takes it upon himself to flip you on your back again.

"I'm going to do this every chance I can." He promises, pressing a searing kiss onto your exposed neck. "Any chance you'll give me." You can't take it. His words, his mouth, his fucking cock. It's too much. "I'm going to show you how much I want you. How much I want to fucking worship ye. Do anything to make you feel good. Not going to leave you again like that, Bonnie."

You reach for him again, pull him into a searing kiss just to shut him up. You need him to shut up. You couldn't take his false promises. You wouldn't survive it. Couldn't.

"Shit." His thrusts quicken, his thumb returning to your swollen bud. Flicking it in a way he had crafted into an art. He buries his face into your neck and you know he's getting close.

You weren't too far behind.

He didn't want to come, not yet, but this was fully out of his control. It was pathetic. A week without sex and you had him nearly coming in the first ten minutes.

But that's what you want. To see him lost in the idea that you would stay.

"Johnny." You groan out. "Please. Cum inside me."

He draws fast, beautiful circles around your clit that immediately push you over the edge. You shut your eyes tight, squeezing him like a vice as you come in strong waves, continuing to push inside you.

in out in out in out.

Deliciously clenching around him tighter and tighter until he can't take it anymore.

"Fuck," he says again, and you see it in his face, and you see it in his face, the second it's all over for him. You want to sear the image in your head. Keep it there forever. Knowing you'll never see it again. The way those enchanting blue eyes squint nearly shut before closing in complete ecstacy.

His mouth would open. A moan caught in his throat that he isn't ready to let go.

His hand closes around your hip, holding you to him while he presses as far as he can go, and it's only then do you feel his cock twitch in quick, jerky movements. He moans out your name before taking your mouth into a searing kiss.

"I fucking love you." He says. "So fucking much."

He was still under the blanket when you returned from the bathroom. You picked up your clothes up from the floor. Looking at the clock realizing you had less than five minutes to get out the door before you would be late for dinner.

"What are you doing?" he asked. You couldn't look at him. Hearing the panic in his voice almost made you stop. Tell him it really was just dinner with a colleague. A woman. That you would be back. Beg him to wait until you came home.

"I can't cancel on the dinner." You said slipping your feet into your heels. "This was a mistake."

You weren't sure why you said it. You weren't sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself. If you wanted to hurt him or make him think you regretted it when you would truthfully do it again. You would do it again and again. You would never stop.

Like Johnny, you could have died in that moment, but for a completely different. Where he would be content, you would be saved from the pain. The pain currently coursing throughout your very soul.

"Lock the door behind you." You say as you practically sprint out the bedroom. Only slowing in your stride to snatch your purse off the kitchen counter before running out. The door slamming behind you.

The restaurant was nicer than you expected. The wine alone was the price of an entree. You didn't seem to be phased at all and were relieved when Renée insisted on picking up the bill.

Your dinner had been delicious and the conversation even better. Renée wrote fantasy romance and wanted to pick your brain about a Why Choose. You had nearly spent out the over priced wine you weren't even really enjoying. Oh the irony.

"It's like all the rage now, but it's hard to make more than one appealing as the love interest. You should have seen the Goodreads comments on my last book. So many people bitched about my FMC not ending up with a character who was quite literally her adopted brother."

"So," you took a breath trying to find the words. "I'm going to be honest. I only read your latest book and I loved Luka. But I can't compare him to other MMCs you've written about so I don't know if they are similar or different. But what I can say is that I'm seeing like this trend of MMCs where they are all this dark-haired, brooding or mysterious character who dislikes mostly everyone and is only soft for either a select few or only the FMC."

"I think if you are going to write a Why Choose you need to think of guys you wouldn't mind falling in love with." You couldn't help, but think of what drew you to your boys. "One could be the leader. Someone who isn't afraid to have his neck on the line. To make sure everyone else is taken care of and being strong enough to handle the stress of that. He would be big on words of affirmation. Lifting the FMC up. For me, it would be someone that I know will take care of business. He's confident in his decision. That confidence would extend to me." You clear your throat. "If I was the FMC, that is."

"Okay." She nodded, pulling out a pen and notepad. "You don't mind if I-"

"I don't write about polygamy." Crossed that bridge. Currently trying to burn it. "So feel free."

"Another could be the one who it's so easy to fall in love with their charm. The one who falls to his knees. Wanting to worship every inch of her. The one who makes her laugh. That one to make her forget about the sadness that creeps into her bones. The one to hold her whenever he could. He's about quality time and physical touch."

"So different love languages." She said, her pen quickly scribbling.

"Yeah." You said, leaning forward. "Then there is the gift giver." Your mind went to Gaz. Most of the gifts and trinkets in the box sitting by your door had came from him. He had gotten you new earbuds when yours broke. When you were being harassed at your gym, he had bought you and him a membership at a different one. "The one who would give her the world if she asked for it. If you're going with a high fantasy then maybe the one to take note of something at a market that the FMC had been eyeing and he bought it for her. Just someone who takes notice like that."

"So acts of service would fall with all of them then you think?"

No. Simon had been the one who probably spent the least amount of money on you. He didn't praise you like John. He didn't even try to attach himself at your hip like Johnny.

But if you needed something fixed, he would come fix it himself. He'd be damned letting a strange man into your apartment. And alone? Fucking forget about it. The one who hated any sort of cardio activity outside of fucking you, but didn't hesitate in attempting to keep up with you when you wanted to go on a run and get some fresh air. If you needed something done, he didn't pay someone else to do it. He did it. If you wanted to do something, he made it happen. He made you safe.

You couldn't bring yourself to say explain it. Your eyes begin to itch. Warning you to think of something else.

So instead you just told her yeah. That they would all commit acts of service. And even in your hypothetical explanation of characters that haven't even been written yet, Simon was still the ghost among them.

"Lucky fucking girl." Renée said setting down her pen.

"Yeah." You said, downing the rest of your wine.

You walked home. The cool crisp wind feeling like it was whipping your exposed skin. It was soothing as the ghost of Johnny's touch still seemed to burn you.

You had hoped that you would get some closure, but you just felt hollow. You came twice and still manage to leave unsatisfied. Johnny wasn't malicious... he was Johnny. He wasn't like the others. Simon would never apologize and John and Kyle wouldn't try to keep reaching out after you told them know once.

Johnny couldn't stand you being mad at him. He never could. He would beg and beg for your forgiveness. You didn't regret fucking him one last time. He needed to know that you were well and truly done. There was no going back from this.

"Hey, Love!" You were pulled from your thoughts at the sound of a voice coming from a source you couldn't see. You perked up, quickly scanning the dimly lit street before your eyes settled on a cluster of shadows just across the street. "Yeah." The slurring voice said again. "Talking to you gorgeous!"

You resumed your trek home. Now picking up your pace. "Don't be like that! Where ya off to?" The voice followed you. You kept your gaze straight. You were three minutes away. Three minutes and you would be at your building.

Three minutes.

Three minutes.

"What's the rush?" Another voice joined the cacophony. "Just want to have a chat."

You turned. They were maybe twenty feet away. You kept your eyes glued to them as your started to make a run for it.

You had made it about ten feet before your body collided with someone. Firm hands gripped your upper arms, steading you as you threatened to fall back.

You sucked in a breath of air, ready to scream when you looked up. It was too dark to make out the man's facial features. He was tall. His head eclipsing the street lamp just behind him. You shook beneath his hands. The voices behind you now silent.

"Keep walking." You didn't need to see his face. You knew that deep timber voice anywhere. He released you from his grip before letting you pass him.

"Just wanted to have a chat." You heard one of them try to reason. "No harm done."

"No harm done yet." Was the last thing you heard Simon say before you broke out into a full fledged run.