#this is what I get for being scheduled three free days in a row

[neverendingford]

.

[kiss4noo]

𝓜y seatmate is the best man ? . ˚ ౨ৎ ⊹ 

꒰ 💒 ꒱ 𝒫ark 𝒮unghoon [성훈] : 𝒪neshot!

𝓰enre. fluffy fluffy fluff! .˚⊹ 𝓹airing. non-idol,,best man sunghoon x maid of honor fem reader. ໒꒱ 𝔀arning(s). prepare to feel some embarrassment and see some sickeningly cute content. 𝔀ord 𝓬t. 1310

𝓼ynopsis .ᐟ you just so happen to sit beside a handsome man on the plane when traveling to your best friend’s wedding destination– only to embarrass yourself by spilling some of your drink on him. however, what happens when you find out he’s the best man at said wedding– can you avoid him through the whole weekend? or does fate hold a different outcome?

꒰ 💬 ꒱ 𝓶i 𝓷ote. this idea came to me so suddenly, i had to get crafting. this is actually one of my favorites– and it of course includes a musical element. (play we are stars by the pierces for the full effect!) to my regulars, you probably think this’ll have more singing– but it’s just a dance scene.

if you enjoyed this fic, please like and reblog! it's always appreciated :)

enjoy, my lovely readers. xoxo, mi. ‹𝟹

also! this one is dedicated to the sweet @pshbites who is so dear to my heart. please check out her smau as well, love on air!

this tale begins with a flight– a journey packed with clumsiness, brooding, and discovery. while this love story falls beneath the cliche archetype, within no means does it reflect the traditional style of romance.

and it all started with marriage, funny enough.

you see, your best friend, mariella, scheduled her wedding over the expanse of a three-day weekend. your flight was expected to land in verona, italy– her destination of choice– by 2pm on friday.

when you arrived at the airport, everything was running rather smoothly; despite the grumpy staff who glared as if you prevented them from enjoying their morning coffee. you’d succeeded in checking your luggage and proceeding through the extensive security, settled at your boarding gate before your flight.

and it seemed anxiety free, because once you’d boarded the plane, you’d found your assigned seat which happened to be an empty row– where you'd be sat beside the window.

it truly couldn’t have gotten any better… right?

oh, how wrong you were. any trip was bound to have a bump in the road– at least that’s what your gut screamed.

an incredibly handsome boy– that you would assume is your age– sat beside you, lost in his own world of headphones and music. through the hours of being in his presence, you’d sneak glances from your romance novel to admire his features.

and even if he did notice, he made no comment, content as the flight continued. however, when the flight approached its landing and everyone was discarding their garbage– your clumsiness appeared at the forefront.

the flight attendant approached your row, holding out a garbage bag with gentle hands, to which you attempted to reach over and dispose of your half-empty water cup. except, you’d lost your grip, the liquid splattering all over your cute seatmate’s hoodie, causing you to release a gasp.

“oh my gosh, i am so incredibly sorry–” you frantically apologize, glancing up at the boy, eyes wide with horror.

the male simply stared at you with crinkled eyes, a playful smile on his face. “it’s alright, no harm done here. it’s only water, it’ll dry.”

from that moment onward, throughout the twenty minutes it took for the plane to land and to exit the aircraft– you’d avoided glancing in his direction, even scooting to the far left of your seat.

and when you’d exited your flight? you immediately rushed to find your best friend who’d agreed to meet you at baggage claim, leaving the embarrassing experience behind you.

but, miraculously, you found yourself at mariella’s wedding rehearsal that same night, meeting the groomsmen for the first time. and to your surprise, the best man just happened to be him.

the same boy from the plane, your seatmate, and the one you’d spilled water all over.

he’d literally be your partner walking down the aisle, the one you lock arms with.

“well, shit.” you muttered under your breath at the sight of his pearly smile, proceeding to shake hands in greeting– to which you’d learned that his name is sunghoon.

even as rehearsal continued, you’d avoided him at all costs, outside of practicing the ceremony. it was dreadful to put simply, that your embarrassment would continue to follow you with every glance in his direction.

thankfully, nobody noticed– not mariella, not the groom, jake– and anybody else in the bride and groom’s respective parties.

it was now saturday, the day of the wedding. you’d completed the process of getting ready, assisting the other girls with their makeup and hair– each of you dolled up in mariella’s chosen color. pictures were taken for each party, the bride and groom, and any others that the couple requested.

the ceremony began early into the day, the process running as expected, effortless after the continual practice from the night before. despite the unease of being beside sunghoon, he kept you grounded, ensuring that no mistakes were made as he guided you down the aisle.

and as the ceremony concluded and led into the festivities of the reception, you chose to be alone. with no plus one, or much connection with the other guests.

despite the few words you’d shared with your best friend, it was her day, and you didn’t want to distract her from the joy of her union with your sulking.

you’d watched with a smile as the newly wedded couple shared their first dance, overjoyed to see mariella have her happy ending.

even throughout your speech, dinner, and the disperse of their cake– you’d lingered at your assigned seat, fiddling with your fingers.

with music playing in the background, guests began to crowd the dance floor, freely congratulating and celebrating with the bride and groom, smiles and laughter throughout the hall.

and as a slow song played, a figure kneeled in front of you– your eyes trailing to meet his.

“hey, pretty girl.” sunghoon greets with the softest voice, extending his hand. “come dance with me.” he invites, waiting for you to place your palm in his.

with a soft sigh, you stare up at him with unease, biting the inside of your cheek.

“okay.” you agree, placing your palm in his– allowing him anchorage to tug you gently from your seat.

“we are stars,” the music hums in the background as he guides you onto the dancefloor, hands finding a secure place on your waist.

“relax, sweetheart.” he mutters, only loud enough for you to hear, urging you to stand beneath the shadow of his towering frame.

“fashioned in the flesh and bone, we are islands,” the music envelopes you and sunghoon, granting a bubble of privacy.

“you’re beautiful.” he praises, a gentle smile tugging at the corner of his lip.

“thank you.” you whisper, staring up into his dark orbs, captured in a dance of longing and discovery.

“excuses to remain alone, we are moons,” swaying with one another, you avert your gaze for a moment before returning it to him.

“y/n.” he calls, raising a hand to capture your chin between the pad of his thumb and knuckle of his forefinger.

“yes?” you question slowly, entranced by his sharp features and moles littered across his skin. 

“throw ourselves around each other, we are oceans,” he admires you for a brief pause, his expression softening.

“you spilling water on me was an accident.” sunghoon firmly mutters, as if trying to convince you.

“i..” you try to speak, only to be cut off by his next words– in which you release a sigh.

“it doesn’t need to be carried with us.” he finishes, dipping his head to lean closer to you.

“being controlled by the pull of another,”

“and i, just wanna be loved by you,”

“your clumsiness doesn’t harm me, in fact, it only made me want to be closer to you.” sunghoon admits, his lips brushing against your forehead in a quick kiss.

“give me a chance, pretty girl.” he retracts from your skin, causing you to stare up at him.

“yeah i, just wanna be loved by you,”

“okay.” you agree, nodding your head in a visual display of your consent. “i’d like that.” you admit in a gentle voice, hands moving from his chest to wrap around his neck.

“i see nothing worse than to sail this universe without you,” the music fades, your movements not once faltering as sunghoon leans in to press his lips to yours.

“we’ll change our seats for the next flight. i can’t have you sit beside another man and spill water on him.” he teases, his lips brushing against yours in a playful dance.

“oh, definitely. there’s nobody else i’d rather spill water on anyway.” you respond in taunt, your laughter meshing into one as you share a sweet kiss, comfortable in each other’s arms.

and with that, your embarrassment was left behind– your clumsiness leading your boyfriend straight to your heart.

꒰ 📎 ꒱ 𝓽aglist. @greentulip @nshmuras @wonsdoll @pnghoon @pshbites

[ratsoh-writes]

Welcome to the:

Freedom festival

The weekend where the people of ebott celebrate becoming an independent country! This RP event will last from Friday-Sunday! It ends Sunday evening so any leftover rps will just get a summary of what happened later.

With the success of the golden festival in Portland during spring, the same area has been prepared for the freedom festival, with some special upgrades!

Activities you will see are:

Fair rides and games of course! What’s a good festival without them!

There will be shopping, with a special series of rows dedicated to goods from other countries. The immigrant clubs in colleges were invited to show off some home country pride this year! The money made will go to some more scholarships for upcoming students outside of ebott

Many sport events will be open to the public. Fighting contests require one to sign up the week before, but other contests like the acrobatics, races, and weightlifting will be free for anyone interested day of!

To advertise the upcoming Halloween celebration next year and their coven, the lunar cycle coven made a special haunted house for the fair. Children below the age of 13 are not allowed inside without an adult present. 

With the help of ebotts engineers and the hadals, there will be some special changes to the venue this year! Due to these upgrades, more space is available on the surface to hold…. Animals! Those who signed up at the beginning of the summer will be allowed to showcase their larger pets! As long as proper accommodations are brought for them of course! The exotic contest will have three sessions with the winners of each getting a special title from the royals lol

The food theme of the festival this year will be.. locusts! After discovering and containing the massive nest (newsletter) in Ridgeside, the bugs had been transported to Portland to be cooked up. Any locust dishes there will be dirt cheap compared to the rest of the food.

And of course, the biggest attraction of the festival: the freedom matches! The matches will be going on the whole time with each fight being scheduled already. Competition is really tight this year with several veterans joining in, a few promising newbies, and rumors of the previous mafias butcher being allowed to bash heads this year!

Rules:

If you’re anon, include a name with each reply so I can distinguish your roleplay with the other anons!

If you don’t state who you’re looking for/wanting to meet, I will roll the wheel of options for a random encounter lol

Some of the skeletons are *ssholes. This does not mean that I hate you if the *sshole characters act like *ssholes.

Side characters are also available with the exceptions of the royals. Only toriel, Asgore, empress king and summer will be in the festival. Feel free to request them if they’re the ones you wanna meet!

[kkenma666]

(범규,태현) beomgyu & taehyun.. backstage

warning.. suggestive content ahead.

you can feel your ears hurting from the blaring sounds coming from the speakers around you. strangers left and right bumped into you while jumping to the beat of the song currently playing.

you also joined them as you raised your hand high, enjoying yourself.

perhaps you were enjoying yourself too much, failing to notice the sneaked glances thrown your way— by none other than the guitarist and the singer on stage.

beomgyu, one of your old friends, kept looking down at you, nearing closer and closer towards you.

you looked up at him while reaching your hands out to which he threw a finger gun your way. meanwhile, taehyun, who's also one of your old friends, kept pointing at you while singing as if he was singing about you.

the song ends with cheers from everyone. taehyun, the main singer smiled at the crowd while getting ready to say something.

"alright everyone, unfortunately, this will be our last song tonight! it's our newest release, back for more!" roars of screams filled up the already noisy venue, the song obviously being a fan favorite.

"we had such a blast performing tonight! we are txt, thank you, LA!"

the iconic intro of the song starts as more and more people scream, with you being one of them. you jumped and put your hands up— occasionally making eye contact with all the members.

but you started to notice how beomgyu and taehyun kept their eyes on you throughout the song— thus leading to your delusional self making up fantasies in your head.

once the song ended, everyone's screams got ten times louder—knowing the fact it was their last song before the concert ended.

but oh— you knew it wasn't over just yet.

beomgyu one day randomly surprised you with a free backstage pass but he did say that he'll only let you have it if you promise to come to the concert— to which you agreed.

but what you didn't expect was him holding a front-row ticket just for you.

you couldn't contain your excitement as you waited in line. you peered over the line, your excitement bubbling down as you saw how long it was.

you decided to let other people go in front first because well, you were here because one of the members gave you a free pass while they probably paid a shit ton just for this opportunity.

after who knows how long of waiting your turn finally arrived. you being the last one may not be as bad since you get to spend a longer time with them.

you entered the room and were greeted by a sweaty and tired txt. a huge smile could be seen on their faces as soon as you entered the room.

"yn! you're finally here! i thought you ditched us or something.." beomgyu's loud voice immediately greeted you, with a hug from him accompanying it.

taehyun also hugged you from the side, saying a simple greeting.

"yn, hey! haven't seen you for a while, how're you man?" yeonjun greeted you, giving you a quick fist bump. "I'm great! i had such a blast back there!" yeonjun patted your shoulder "glad to know"

yeonjun, soobin, and huening is also your friend. you're not that close with them but the three of you do know each other kinda well.

the six of you spent your time talking and catching up with each other, getting to know each other better, and taking pictures.

once your time was over, you said bye to all of them to finally go back home but before you could— a hand grabbed at your wrist while pulling you.

"going home already? come hang with us a little." taehyun invited you. you agreed with him. the three of you haven't hung out in a while due to their busy schedule.

what you expected to be an innocent hanging out between friends somehow turned into something more scandalous.

as soon as you entered taehyun's personal dressing room, you were pinned to the door by taehyun— beomgyu next to him.

before you could ask, taehyun's lip immediately smashed itself into your own. muffled grunts and moans slipped past your lips.

meanwhile, beomgyu's hand made its way up and down your body. his hands worshipping each curve. his hands made their way onto your nipples as he began toying with them.

this caused you to moan into the kiss, your moan being swallowed by taehyun. taehyun leaned back, a string of saliva connected the both of you.

taehyun's hand found its way into your hair, twirling it around his slender fingers. "fuck, we missed you so much yn." taehyun's voice dropped a few octaves lower, sending shivers all over your body.

beomgyu's hands rested on your waist, massaging them gently. "let us show you just how much we miss you, yeah?"

a dark glint sparkled over their eyes as beomgyu effortlessly picked you up before placing you down on the couch in the dressing room.

they both made sure to let you know just how much they missed you last night.

in my mind, their song back for more is like a more emo punk version lolz

[mariaofdoranelle]

Look at Us Now — Ch. 7

Fic Masterlist

Do I see change in the horizon? Yes, I do!!

Also, I added 4 chapters to our outline! Yay!! I’m going to update the masterlist soon

Warnings: language, incarceration

Words: 4k

“Could you stop staring at my stomach?” Aelin asked, feeling her cheeks burn and hoping Rowan couldn’t see it with the bad lighting of his cell. Her baby bump was barely visible, but he still did that thing where his mind seemed to go far away while he stared at her stomach.

“It’s very hard not to,” Rowan rasped.

“My stomach looks the same way after I leave an all-you-can-eat buffet.” Usually with Aedion. He was the most fun to accompany at those places, always impressing the employees with his binge-eating skills.

He didn’t reply, so Aelin went back to her book. Things were easier with him, though. She visited him again after they made amends to drop two pregnancy books, since he didn’t have internet access in the guardhouse, and now she was here once again.

It wasn’t weird that she was seeing him three days in a row, right? It didn’t feel weird, at least. Besides, they were already seeing each other every day for the past three months. Except that now she was seeing him on weekends too. And not having sex.

The first visit was to reconcile, the second to do him a favor. Now it was Sunday, and Rowan doesn’t have work, so it would be cruel to leave him alone in a cell the whole day.

“You’re out of here on Wednesday, right?”

“Mhm,” Rowan confirmed without taking his eyes off the book this time.

“Good. I scheduled my first appointment for Thursday afternoon. Do you think you can make it?”

“Aelin…” It was very easy to spot the alarm bells on his tone. “Tell me you’re not waiting for me to get out of jail to go see a doctor.”

“But you told me you wanted to be at every appointment!”

“Aelin.”

“Look, I work at a hospital. I can take my vitals whenever. I feel fine. I can wait until Thursday to hear the heartbeat and do the ultrasound, okay?”

Rowan relaxed again, but he still looked wary. “Fine. But it doesn’t sit well with me.”

Aelin snorted over his fussing and opened one of her lunchboxes she prepared this morning. Gods, she was so freaking hungry all the time. She opened the sandwich, but her eyes were locked on the mango. It looked so orangey and ripe. She held it with her free hand. So soft to the touch.

“I should eat the sandwich.”

He hummed. “You should.”

“The problem is: what I want to eat this mango. But the mean sergeant in the entrance confiscated my knife.”

Rowan snorted. “That’s outrageous. Do you think I should lock him up for it after I finish being locked up?”

She sighed, still conflicted over what to eat. “I don’t think you have another option, Rowan. I feel like this mango is staring at me. Begging to be eaten.”

“You don’t need a knife to eat a mango. Just bite it.”

If only it was that simple. She looked down, staring at her uniform. Wearing it meant she was supposed to look as put-together as possible, only being excused if something bigger than a mango happened, like a mission that involved rain or mud. Aelin didn’t even need to wear it to visit Rowan on a Sunday, but she figured it’d be a lot easier to get inside the base with it.

Fuck it, her hangry pregnant brain said, making her take a huge bite without analyzing the situation further, feeling mango juice slide down her fingers and chin.

Aelin leaned back on her chair and hummed in delight, closing her eyes while chewing the sweet, sweet mango she stole from her cousin’s kitchen. This was fruit heaven.

She stopped mid-bite when she noticed the look on Rowan’s face. The corners of his lips here half tugged-up, as if he was trying to stop himself, and he had the weirdest glint in his eyes.

Aelin squinted her eyes at him. “If you laugh at me, you’re dead.”

Whatever was going on with his face turned into a real grin. He turned back to his pregnancy book, chuckling. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Aelin looked at Rowan, quietly reading the book she bought for him. She wondered if his large shoulders could be comfortable in a hard, small bed like the one he’d been sleeping on the past week. Because of her. He didn’t complain to her about being locked up once after finding out she was pregnant, but there was always this reminder in the back of her head that she was the reason this happened to him.

Illicit. Unforgettable sex. Improper sexual conduct. Their baby.

Aelin didn’t know how he felt about all that, so she’d work with what she knew. She knew Rowan was being a good sport about his incarceration, at least in front of her. She knew Rowan wanted the baby. She knew that even inside a cell, she felt comfortable and at ease with him.

Rowan briefly looked up, sending her a shy smile before sipping water. She watched his throat bob as he gulped it down. She watched his hair move with the gush of air that came from the window.

Aelin felt the bottom of her stomach fluttering. It was probably just the baby moving.

“How far along are we?” Rowan asked, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“Somewhere around 12 weeks. Maybe 13?” She scrunched up her nose. “I know I’m a doctor, but I’m not trusting my math in this.”

He hummed in acknowledgement. “Here it says we can already know the gender.” Rowan closed the book and focused on her. “I’m not a fan of surprises, but I can wait to know if it’s important to you.”

“To be fair, I’m not really focused on that. We can know by Thursday if you’re okay with it.” Aelin didn’t understand the fuss over baby’s sex. It’s not like an ultrasound would determine if her kid would be a he, she or they. She paused. That didn’t mean Rowan wouldn’t care about that, though. “Do you want to have one of those gender reveal parties?”

“Not really my style. Do you?”

“I have a better idea.” Aelin wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Rowan raised his own. “Do tell me.”

“We go and ask the doctor. If it’s a boy, we’re getting cookie monster ice cream after the appointment. Strawberry if it’s a girl.”

“Sounds nice,” he agreed, but his face said otherwise. “I’m not a fan of ice cream, but I can buy you some. That way I’m still part of the celebration, right?”

“You what?” Aelin blurted while her whole world stopped. Her baby daddy doesn’t like ice cream. Was she supposed to trust someone like that to teach her kid about morals and values?

When Rowan opened his mouth, a loud voice down the hall stopped him. She didn’t recognize it, but it was clear how it made the color drain from his face.

Before she knew it, a sergeant was bringing a couple that looked so much like Rowan it was unsettling.

“Hey… what are you doing here?” Rowan’s voice was cautious, his whole body stiff. From that moment alone, Aelin had an inkling of how much his parents knew about her or the baby. Her guess was nothing at all.

“I took a plane to visit my son in jail! The last words a mother would ever want to say!”

Aelin’s eyes widened at the same time she felt her pulse skyrocket. Rowan’s parents hadn’t seen her yet because she was leaning against the same wall his cell’s door was at, but they would any time now. There were pregnancy books all over the room and, looking down at herself, she was covered in mango juice. Fuck.

She silently reached over her lunchbox to get a napkin and try to clean herself, but Rowan’s father spotted Aelin before she could help herself.

“Hey! I didn’t see you there, sorry.” The man had a kind smile aimed at her while he extended a hand. “I’m Owen, Rowan’s father.”

Aelin quickly cleaned her palm in her uniform, fighting a cringe at her own gesture and the state she was in. She shook his hand. “Aelin. I work at the hospital.”

Rowan’s mom was by Owen’s side in a second, too interested in her son’s visitor to continue the scolding.

“Hi, dear! I’m Rory. Very nice to meet you.” She turned her head to her flabbergasted son. “Rowan, is she the girl you refused to tell me about?”

“Yep,” he confirmed, voice tight.

Aelin forced her jaw to stay right where it was. What did she mean by that? And how could she know there was a girl if Rowan didn’t tell himself?

After exchanging a few pleasantries, she was starting to feel more comfortable and forgetting about her ruined uniform. Rowan’s parents were nice. They were a lot more talkative than him, but while his dad was on the quieter side like him, Rowan’s mom talked enough for the three of them. It could be a little overwhelming for a first meeting, but Aelin liked her a lot.

“Darling, you’re absolutely gorgeous!” Rory marveled, one hand on Aelin’s shoulder while she inspected the young woman’s face. “No wonder Rowan wouldn’t send me a picture of you. I bet these phone cameras can’t do you justice.” A pause. “Rowan’s cousin is hosting dinner tonight, we’d love to have you there.”

Aelin’s grin widened an inch or two. Complementing her looks and offering food. It’s like that woman knew her way straight into Aelin’s heart.

Rowan didn’t look pleased, though. His jaw dropped. “What about me?”

Rory turned to her son, a reprimanding look on her face only a mother could master. “You can’t attend dinner while you’re in jail, can you?”

Snorting, Owen sat by his son’s side on the bed. When he grabbed the book by Rowan’s side, Aelin froze, Rory’s voice becoming only a background noise to what was about to unfold.

“What To Expect When You’re Expecting…” he quietly read the cover out loud. Then stopped, eyebrows raised. Owen blinked, then slowly turned to his son.

Not missing a thing, Rory took a sharp turn in Rowan's way, and finally noticed the pregnancy books around. She looked between the two of them, waiting for someone to speak, but no one would dare. Aelin’s heartbeat was so loud she couldn’t utter a word, and Rowan’s eyes were so bulged he probably felt the same on the inside.

Since no one would speak, of course Rory would break the ice. “Grandchildren!?” She asked in a high-pitched cheer.

After exchanging a look, Rowan and Aelin cautiously confirmed.

His parents’ smiles wouldn’t be that big if they had won the lottery.

~~

“Do you want to go with the jean shorts, or with the pink ones?”

“ELSA!” Maisie screamed, her face red and puffy because Aelin wouldn’t let her go to the park with her Elsa costume.

Aelin kneeled on the floor so she’d be the same height as her daughter. “Honey, that dress has long sleeves and polyester fabric. It’s too hot outside for that, you won’t like it when we get there.”

“Don’t care.” She sniffed and rubbed her little nose. “I want my Elsa dress.”

“And what if we make a deal?”

That seemed to perk Maisie’s interest. She immediately squared her shoulders, looking at her mother expectantly.

“If you wear one of the shorts I asked you to, we can invite your father to the park.”

Maisie’s mouth fell open, a hopeful glint in her eyes. “You’d do that?”

Guilt squeezed the back of Aelin’s throat so tight she couldn't say a word. She didn’t like that Maisie was so astonished both of her parents were willing to hang out. Spending time together wasn’t part of most co-parent’s arrangements, yes, but it still didn’t sit well with her.

Truth was, Aelin has been considering this all morning. Her interactions with Rowan after their therapy session hadn’t been easy-going, but there hadn’t been any fights either. Now it was Saturday, none of them had approached the weekly quality time subject, and tomorrow they already had lunch at Orlon’s.

If Rowan really wanted to go through that part of therapy, he’d have mentioned it, right? She sighed. Aelin wasn’t eager to hang out with him either, but she really wanted to make this therapy thing work. And she was the one who made him go there. Aelin opened their text thread.

Aelin: are you busy?

Rowan: What happened?

He answered in a matter of seconds, as if he was waiting for her to fuck up. She rolled her eyes.

Aelin: why would you think something happened?

Rowan: Why would you reach out to me?

Aelin rolled her eyes. Looking over her phone, Maisie was bouncing with excitement as she picked a shirt.

Yeah, putting up with Rowan’s bullshit was worth it.

Aelin: because we share a daughter, remember?

Rowan: Very hard to forget when she’s as sassy as you.

“Mom!” Maisie called her attention and pointed at two shirts she laid out. “You think I’ll look prettier with giraffes or kittens?”

”You always look pretty, Mais.” Aelin praised. And paused. As much as she wanted her daughter to be confident, letting a four-year-old pick her own outfit could easily lead to a disaster. “But the kitten shirt will look better with the shorts you chose. But you’ll still look great in both.”

“Right.” Maisie nodded. “Did Daddy say if he can come?”

She forced a smile. “Let me see.”

Aelin: are u busy or not?

Rowan: Yes. Why do you ask?

Aelin: nevermind

She looked over her daughter, thinking about how to break the news that her father couldn’t come. She shouldn’t have told Maisie—

Rowan: Aelin.

Rowan: My house is 3 minutes away

Rowan: I’ll be there in 2 if you don’t tell me what’s going on.

Aelin: i’m taking Mais to the park.

Rowan: Okay?

Rowan: I’m confused.

She held back a groan, not wanting to look distressed in front of Maisie. As frustrating as this was, his reaction was understandable. He was never invited to her outings with Maisie.

Aelin: do u wanna come?

Rowan: Oh

Rowan: Do you want me to?

Aelin: i told Maisie I’d invite you

Aelin: she has expectations now.

Rowan: I’ll meet you at your place in 10.

He arrived in eight minutes.

It was pretty quick until they arrived at the park, but not for Maisie. She was so eager to feed the animals, not even Disney songs could distract her from that goal.

The park had a little center of activities for kids, and one of them was feeding the animals. People could do it freely a few years ago, but now it was only with the proper food and supervision. Maisie was left with a small group of children and two of the park employees, then Aelin and Rowan settled the picnic blanket somewhere they could watch her.

This was… okay. Aelin could feel her body slowly relax. She could tolerate him like this. Well, Aelin always got along with Rowan when they weren’t speaking, so—

No. Absolutely not. This was not the time or place to have inappropriate flashbacks.

Rowan cleared his throat. “How are you?”

“Maisie woke up early. She was out like a light because now we’re drinking chamomile tea instead of wine slash grape juice. I made her grilled cheese, and she didn’t even complain about it being a little burnt. Then she had a meltdown because I wouldn’t let her come dressed as Elsa.”

“It’d be uncomfortable for her to play,” Rowan agreed, nodding. But he had a distant look on his face, and Aelin wondered which thing he was going to complain about today. He darted a glance her way, and she couldn’t decipher the look on his face. ”But I was asking about you.”

“Oh.“ Aelin wasn’t expecting that. She ran a hand through her hair, hoping she wasn’t blushing because of her mistake. “I’m fine, thanks.”

Rowan nodded. Aelin had prepared for a superheated day, but this was nice. There was this gentle breeze caressing her cheeks and ruffling her hair. A little further, Maisie seemed to be having the time of her life while feeding the ducks with the other kids.

“Is it still quality time if we use it to discuss something about Maisie?” Rowan interrupted their peaceful moment.

“She’s not going to soccer practice tomorrow morning.”

He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “Because she should’ve been at dance lessons this morning?”

“Exactly. I’m glad therapy is making you reasonable.”

Rowan was glaring at her, jaw tight. Aelin looked away, pretending she cared about nothing but the wind against her skin.

“Speaking about therapy, should we tell Yrene how sexist you’re being?”

“Sexist?” Aelin screeched.

“What? You think just because Mais’ a girl, she can’t play soccer?”

Aelin gaped, feeling her blood boil. “No, this is about you neglecting your daughter’s artist’s soul?”

“Are you calling me neglectful?”

“Yes, I am!” She fumed, inching her face closer. “And it’s on a Sunday morning! Who does that?”

“Oh, so it’s not about sexism. It’s about you being too lazy to wake up early.”

Aelin opened her mouth to retort, then closed it again. The pounding heartbeat. The ringing in her ears. Her tense muscles.

Aelin was about to escalate this argument so much further. Instead, she got up from the picnic blanket.

Rowan just watched her for a moment, frowning. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to take a freaking walk.” She gestured around the park, then rested both hands on her waist. “And when I get back, we’ll be so civil Yrene will be beaming next Tuesday. Are we clear?” She checked with a stern voice, but both of them knew it wasn’t a question. Rowan carefully nodded before she went away.

Aelin tried to not think of Rowan for a second, just taking in the mixed scent of grass and stinking trash cans only a city park could have. Aelin breathed in, a lot slower than the joggers passing by her. And breathed out, now that the main sound she could listen to was the kids playing in the background. It always brought a smile to her face, now that it reminded her of her daughter.

Maisie, who was soon joining either soccer or dance classes. Aelin had so many assumptions about why Rowan was so adamant on this, but Yrene’s voice was on the back of her head, telling her to put all assumptions and blaming aside to hear him out. Looking at her watch, she had been gone for more than ten minutes now. Time to return.

Aelin would go back there and be so calm and peaceful even fucking Buddha would be jealous of her.

She opened the e-mail Yrene sent with the pdf about communication techniques and sat back with Rowan to start, but he beat her to it.

“I’m sorry I called you sexist and lazy.”

Aelin nodded. “And I’m sorry I called you neglectful. I—“

She sighed and checked the instructions on her phone before she started.

“I want Maisie to do dance classes because I feel like she’s more inclined to arts than sports, and as a mother, I’d like for her to explore that.“ A pause. ”And I don’t feel comfortable with the idea of becoming a soccer mom.”

Rowan’s eyebrows were very low on his face. “Soccer mom?”

“Soccer mom culture makes me feel…” Aelin swallowed. “Scared, old and cringey. I genuinely think Maisie would adore dance classes, and it aligns better with my plans for MILFhood.”

“What the hell is soccer mom culture?”

Now that Aelin had said everything out loud, she wanted to get up and flee like she just did. She’d just bared her soul to him, and that was her answer?

“I’ll explain later.” She gave him her phone with the pdf on communication tips opened. “Your turn.”

“Okay…” Rowan rubbed a hand up and down his face. “I suggested soccer classes because it’s the best option that has Sunday classes, and you know Lorcan can shove classes down my throat any time—“

“I’m so sorry,” Aelin blurted.

The dance classes were on Saturday mornings, and sometimes Rowan had classes at that time, even if it didn’t happen often. She knew it, but she didn’t remember.

“And when you insisted on dance classes,” he continued with Yrene’s step-by-step pdf, “I felt…” Rowan clamped his lips together and took a deep breath. “I guess I felt—“ His shoulders started shaking, and he pressed a hand against his mouth. He looked down, breathed deep, then up again. “I—“

This time, there was no hiding. He tilted his head up, and when his mouth opened, it was to blast a cackle so loud she could barely believe it was coming from Rowan.

It didn’t take a genius to understand this wasn’t true amusement, it was just nervous laughter. But seeing Rowan like that, it made Aelin laugh too.

They looked near euphoric, losing their breaths and holding their stomachs like this.

“I can’t believe we’re in therapy,” Rowan wheezed.

Aelin cackled in response. “It feels like co-parent jail!”

Rowan nodded, cracking up at her pun. “I hate it so much.”

Even if it was nervous laughter, her view looked quite good through half-opened eyes. Rowan Whitethorn was laughing, and Aelin was beaming because she couldn’t remember the last time he smiled at something that wasn’t his daughter.

Aelin didn’t see when a small body knocked her down on the grass, laying on top of her.

“You’re not angry?”

“No, honey, I’m not angry.” Aelin rearranged a strand of hair out of her daughter’s face, smiling so much at this sweet assault her eyes crinkled. “Why would you think that?”

“Because I saw you leave the blanket, and you looked upset, but now you don’t look upset anymore.”

“We were angry, but we talked it out and now we’re not angry anymore.”

Maisie nodded, understanding, and then turned to her father. “Daddy, do the *not angry* thing!”

“The… not angry thing?” Aelin asked, head tilted.

“Yes!” Maisie eagerly nodded. “When Daddy gets angry, and then he stops being angry, he gives me a kiss right here.” She pointed at the top of her head. “To show me he’s not angry anymore.”

“Oh.” Aelin struggled to give her daughter a proper reaction. “I don’t think that’s necessary, Mais.”

Maisie didn’t insist, but her big green eyes darted warily between the two adults.

Rowan gave Aelin a pointed look, and her shoulders immediately melted at his worried expression.

He didn’t want to kiss Aelin either, but that’s what Maisie needs to feel reassured about their reconciliation.

If a kiss on the top of Aelin’s head was what their daughter needed, that’s what they’d do.

Aelin slid closer to Rowan, careful to not knock down their things. His hands carefully holding the sides of her head were like pressing a button to start her heart, and she closed her eyes when the sight of his throat bobbing was too much.

The gentle peck near her hairline was quick, but it felt like a million years before Maisie was cheering on their side.

“How was feeding the ducks, Mais?” Rowan asked, eager to change the subject. Aelin was so sure he hated that little moment, it only made things more awkward.

Maisie laid on the blanket beside them on her cloud-shaped pillow and nibbled on cheese like the little princess she was. “I don’t speak duck, but I think they liked it.”

Since their daughter wordlessly declared it was snack time, Rowan opened the other lunchboxes while the little girl rambled about feeding the animals.

Like a peace offering, Rowan handed her a mango and a knife. She didn’t know if it was intentional, but the sight of it spread a gentle, nostalgic warmth through her chest.

Aelin devoured mangos throughout her pregnancy, a lifetime ago. He didn’t know a lot of her eating habits outside of that period frame, but she couldn’t blame him. It’s not like they spent a lot of time together after that.

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[the-woild-is-y-erster]

HEY EEL (i got the ask so im here ...) kinda silly but like.. personal hesdcanon for david is that he loves trains. yeah kinda autistic stereotype but idc!!! his favorite is the 999 (ny central and hudson river railroad no. 999) i think!! and he definitely fantasizes about riding the transsib... OKAY BUT i digress. the art request. david jacobs and trains combined. in whatever way you want. conductor david or david at a train station or . literally anything:3

ok so thank thank thank for the request

but i swear when i read the sentence 'david jacobs and trains combined' this image came to me so freakin clearly that i just

when i tell you i was crying while photoshopping this💀

ok but for the actual request :)

ok so after he ages out of being a newsie, in a perfect world he would marry jack and they'd stay in new york and adopt like three children and live three apartments down from race and spot

but in this world :)

jack actually leaves for santa fe, and boots becomes leader of the lower manhattan newsies (fight me they shouldve put boots in livesies i love him so much) and davey gets a degree in engineering somehow and becomes a train conductor.

four years later, jack realises that the thing he thought was santa fe that he was longing for was a fantasy, and decides to go back to new york.

that morning, davey looks at his work schedule and feels his throat close up as he sees "NYC -> SF: ROUND TRIP" on the board. he had been wishing for four straight (haha straight def not lmao) years that he would meet jack on that train back home, and for four straight years he was dissapointed every single time. maybe this time, he thinks, putting no real hope in it.

the trip there is uneventful, some toddler spills water but that's to be expected, he's still a kid. david remembers when les was still that age. giggling at anything his siblings did, clinging like a lamprey to his mothers skirts.

as they pull into the station in sunny santa fe, davey breathes in the clean light air, a harsh contrast from the pollution of new york. the sun glares into his eyes as he gazes out over the russet hills and golden grasses swaying in the breeze, and sometimes he thinks he gets why jack wanted to come here so bad.

out there, there's no one to tell him what to do. out there, the sky seems to swallow him up and make him feel like his mistakes aren't so devastating.

out there, he's free.

he pays no attention to the passengers boarding; he never does. they're just trying to get through their day, just like him. as the engines hiss underneath him and the wheels start to turn with a jolt, he starts down the aisles and asks for tickets, stamping each one and handing it back to the passenger, making eye contact with no one.

in the last car, the window car, he makes it to the last row. "ticket please, s-" he looks up to make eye contact for the first time at the sight of a familiar satchel, considerably more weatherbeaten than when he saw it last, but the same nevertheless.

"jackie?" his voice catches as he meets those cow-like brown eyes, more smile lines and a scruff on his chin, but the same man he had fallen in love with. jack smiles, eyes shining.

"heya, dave." he whispers.

[bombsonboard]

the day after yesterday: chapter three

Summary: Time travel is volatile, dangerous, playing god. And then sometimes  it drops you in just the right place at the perfect time. It’s a matter of perspective. You decide.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (no Y/N)

Word Count: 4.4k

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Read it on AO3

A/N: So my scheduled post didnt work! But i’m still uploading this on Wednesday, just a little later than planned lol. Hope you’ve all had a good week and sorry for the lil bit late chaper!

You stood outside ‘Stillman’s Gymnasium’ feeling grateful it was a warm summer’s day and you didn’t have to brave the New York cold without a jacket. Bucky said he’d meet you here, he cleaned the gym after hours in exchange for weekly boxing lessons, promising it would be all theirs so you could work on your escape in peace. 

Turns out, jumping the turnstile to get on the subway was a hell of a lot easier in the 1940s, it just took avoiding every man with a conductor hat, which the crowds made easy, and you made it to midtown. 

All alone, you let yourself take a breath. Yes, you were stuck in the wrong time, but with the hope of getting home, it was quite an astonishing thing. This place wouldn’t even be here in twenty years, bulldozed for apartments. Having the privilege to be here was something you could hardly fathom but you tried to let yourself enjoy it, at least for the time being.

It was too easy to imagine yourself having a life here, who could be waiting for? Maybe a good girl friend, or maybe some guy was picking you up to go and see a movie, one of those old ones that are only on at Christmas or Sunday afternoons. Your dress would be a bit cleaner, your hair pinned out of your face and you would see him approaching in the distance.

In your mind he had a kind smile on his face, a few roses, not too many and he would walk up to you and say:

“Steve is gonna kill me when he finds out I took his nice sketch paper, this better be worth it.” 

You blinked out of your fantasy to see the roses had flattened into a stack of paper and the kind smile you dreamed of was replaced by Bucky’s blank frown. He looked at you curiously.

“What?” He brushed his hair back with his free hand.

“Nothing” You felt caught out.

He shrugged, slowly growing used to your strange looks, and pulled a bunch of keys from out of his trouser pocket and slid them into the door. Unlocking it and pushing the door open with a clunk.

“After you.”

The smell of sweat and floor polish hit you like a wave as you stepped inside and Bucky locked the door behind the two of you. On the bare brick walls hung dozens of pictures of men in boxing gloves, raising their arms in victory. Along the surprisingly clean wooden floor punching bags were lined up, the rich brown leather cracked and beaten from excessive use and just waiting patiently to be used again. 

The great big boxing ring was the main event, a square stage of battered cream, held together by rows of red rope. You wondered if it was red on purpose. 

You pictured one of the boxing matches happening right there in front of you, the crowd of screaming men, praying for their bet to come clean and bracing for the final take down. The champion raising his godly fists, shirtless, shining and soaking in the sounds of his glory.

So, this is what Bucky wanted to be before the army? You tried to see him there, posing for one of the pictures on the wall with his grin plastered to his face. Though, maybe thinking of him shirtless and sweaty really wasn’t the most efficient thing you could be doing at the time.

“So…” Bucky comes to stand next to you, and offers you the paper

You take it with a quiet thank you.

“Do you have a-”

He hands you a pencil.

You swallow, turn around and begin to lay out the pieces of ‘borrowed’ sketch paper out on the glossy brown wood.. 

“There’s a desk in the office, y’know” Bucky points out, watching you crouch to the floor.

“That’s okay, I’m fine here.” 

He looks at you, confused and waiting for any kind of explanation you would offer.

“I’m gonna need…quite a bit of space.”

Bucky raises his eyebrows, accepting that’s all he was getting, and goes to lean against the wall.

You start your chicken scratches, numbers in the tiniest handwriting you could manage, but the nagging sensation of his presence there itches at you incessantly. You lift your head and notice he’s just standing there, watching you. 

“Don’t you have cleaning to do?” It came out a little more spiteful than you intended.

“Looks pretty spotless to me” He kept his eyes trained on you, not bothering to look around at all.

“Okay, so you don’t need to be here then?” You didn’t mind the company really, but why did it have to be him? It was better for you both if he just left you alone.

“I’m responsible for this place, how do I know you won’t mess it up?” Bucky narrowed his eyes at you.

“Christ, I don’t need a chaperone.” 

“I’m sure you don’t, spitfire” He scoffs “but I'm not leaving, so…” He gestures for you to get back to your work “Go on.”

Rolling your eyes with maximum effort you go back to work and start to lose yourself in the math. Spread out on the floor with your ass in the air probably wasn’t the most ladylike position but who cared, Bucky didn’t seem to make a comment.

You willed yourself to stop wondering about him for just a moment so you could focus on the task at hand. If you were going to figure out the coordinates to put into the GPS, you needed a start point. It was 1943, that you knew but, the specific date was what you really wanted. There wasn’t anything that showed you today’s date in your immediate vicinity, so your eyes wandered and landed, unfortunately, on Bucky, who had his feet propped up on the front desk, head stuck in a newspaper. 

"Is that today’s?” You ask from the floor.

“Yu-huh” He mumbles from his wall of news.

Of course he had the thing you were looking for. 

“...What’s the date on it?”

He folds over one corner so you could be victim to his blank stare. “You don’t know what day it is?”

You stare back. 

“11th June.” He supersedes.

“Thank you.” 

He flips his corner back up and you go back to your work silently.

“11th June 1943.” You mumble quietly as the numbers take over your head again.

Hour One

The silence didn’t last half as long as you hoped it would.

“So, how long does something like this normally take?” Bucky wonders after a while, as if you launched yourself into the wrong time all the time, you felt yourself getting offended until you remembered he had absolutely no idea. 

Scribbling down the total days you needed to travel you hid your face from Bucky.

“A while.” You hoped he didn’t hear the small crack in your voice. 

“Great. Maybe it’s enough time for me to figure out why you’re so weird.” He chuckled lightly.

Bucky Barnes, ladies man.

“Oh you’ll figure it out…in 29,209 days” You mumble under your breath, you didn’t mean for him to hear, but when you’re the only two people in a room, it’s hard to keep secrets.

Bucky shakes his head in amusement, ignorant of just how truthful you had just been, but he was quiet for a little while longer after that.

Hour Three

Eventually grew restless of the front desk and sauntered over to the back office. You wondered who might usually be found in there, some short and stubby gym manager, dark hair slicked back with wiry eyebrows that look so much like caterpillars they might crawl off his face. A cigar permanently between his lips. 

You cracked a smile at the image until you heard exactly what Bucky was doing in there. The crackle of a gramophone interrupts your thoughts and the smile falls from your face. You had no complaints about forties music, really, but you were convinced he was doing this on purpose, taunting you with warbling jazz.

With a frustrated grumble you threw down your pencil, abandoned your work and stalked over to the back office. He was there, leaning back on a chair with his arms crossed, eyes closed and absorbing the music echoing around the room. 

Sure, he looked peaceful, but there were bigger stakes here than Bucky Barnes enjoying a record. 

You rapped on the door forcefully but he didn’t jump to attention like you wanted.

Bucky slowly opens his eyes and looks up expectedly.

“Could you…turn it down?” You mimicked turning down a volume knob, and he looked at you blankly.

“Please.” It pained you to add.

“Turn it down?” He mimics your action, eyebrows furrowing. “And what’s that?”

“The music” You impatiently pointed it out and walked over to the small gramophone, singing pleasantly in the corner. It would be a relic any other day but right now it was just annoying you.

Shoot, no volume control you realized, it seemed people were just happy to hear music here, nevermind the volume. A little joy in a somewhat bleak time in history. 

You needed your peace though, one way or another.

“Could you just turn it off?” You turned to leave.

“If this is gonna take long, I’d like to have something to entertain myself.”

You stopped, breathing in and out to stop yourself from killing him before his inevitable death date.

“You don’t even have to be here” You crossed your arms across your chest.

He smiled at your irritation “Tell you what, I’ll give you a chance.”

While you were occupied with how he just had the audacity to patronize you, Bucky stood from the chair and took the trash can from the corner and placed it at the other end of the office from you.

“What are you doing?” You watched him closely.

He walked back over to you with a self- satisfied smile, taking his time as he stopped just inches from you, the tips of his shoes touching yours just about.

“Bucky?” You felt your heartbeat palpate, your chest go tight.

He wordlessly leaned past you to grab an old coffee mug full of pencils that sat on the desk behind you. Bucky pulled away to stand next to you and embarrassment fizzed in your stomach. Bucky smelt like leather and his mothers cooking.

“First one to get three pencils in a row in the trash can wins. If you win, I’ll turn it off and I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

You found that hard to believe and it must’ve shown on your face.

“...mostly,” He added. “But if I win, the music stays and you can’t say a thing about it.”

“Seriously?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die, swee- spitfire.”

He looked at you with his blue as a cloudy sky eyes as you sized him up. It seemed fair and you were always one for a good bet, but the way he looked at you made you feel like he knew something you don’t. Figuring that look out would have you spinning for days.

“Do you need me to move it a bit closer?” He suggested condescendingly.

“Fine.” You grumbled.

“Ladies first.” He held the mug out to you and you grabbed three pencils with a roll of your eyes.

It had to be easy right? You didn’t have the worst hand eye coordination in the world but it wasn’t one of your most notable qualities. The only thing you had going for you was a desire for Bucky Barnes to keep quiet, and you were about to find out how good of a motivator that was.

You toss the first pencil and it lands in the trash can with a happy little clang. The second pencil was subject to pressure and bounced on the edge before landing safely inside, you celebrated inwardly, trying to hide how invested you were in a game of throwing pencils, but you were so close to victory, sweet victory.

One final pencil in your hand, you looked to Bucky “Any final words?” you ask smugly.

“I’m good.”  He stared straight ahead.

The last pencil is in the air and you swear you’ve never felt this tense in your life. Maybe apart from the time you landed in the 20th century by accident. Taunting you, it bounced off the edge like the second but this time it was the wrong way. You watched in disbelief as it clattered to the floor.

“Shit.” You muttered and tried to hide how actually sad you were to miss your final throw.

“I’d offer condolences but you were a little cocky at the end.” Bucky plucked three pencils from the pot.

He effortlessly tossed his pencils in without a second thought, one, two, three, in quick succession, giving you no time to think of a plan to sabotage him at all.

Bucky looked at you with a smile “I believe congratulations are in order.”

“Best of three?” You grasped at any chance he might give you.

Bucky just laughed. In your face. You let out a combination of a grumble and a sigh and stomped out of the office.

He had won, the music stayed.

Hour Five 

“C’mon you should take a break.”

Bucky had stayed mostly in the office, humming to his music. You had migrated to the boxing ring to lay out your findings. He had been leaning against the door, keeping his eye on you for the last five minutes.

“Can’t take a break.” You didn’t look up.

“You’ve been scribbling for like ten hours” He groans.

“I’m not scribbling” You retort, but looking down at the paper ‘scribbles’ was definitely an accurate word, not that he needed to know that.

“What are you doing then?”  

“I’m working out- ugh, stop it!” You needed to be more on the ball with his incessant questions.

“It’s for your own good”  You told him as sternly as you could manage.

“Yes Ma'am” He grins cheekily.

He moved from the doorway, you cursed yourself for having half your attention on him again.

“I don’t think you’ve ever taken a break in your life, you’re so…tightly wound.”

You had half a mind to tell him why you were really ‘tightly wound’ right there and then. But then the fatal implications and so on…blah blah blah. 

“I take breaks.”

“Hard to believe, you ever been to the movies? Or a dance, maybe?” His analyzing eyes felt like they could see right through you.

“Sure, I’ve been to dances.” You brushed him off and continued writing. Maybe they weren’t the dances he would be familiar with but you had been to some. They just played the Black Eyed Peas, not Vera Lynn.

“Really? Because you haven’t recognised a single song I've put on.”

Oh. He had you there. 

“Maybe I just like different music.”

“Who doesn’t like Dick Haymes?” 

You put your head back down, ignoring his teasing and diving back into work, and hopefully convincing him that you just weren’t interested in extracurriculars. 

“Don’t worry, Spitfire, I’ll get you dancing.”

Hour Eleven 

He had run out of records a couple hours ago and was now entertaining himself by standing by the entrance and using some spare paper to fashion a paper airplane and seeing how far he could throw it.

The boxing ring was covered in a blanket of math now, you sat cross legged in the center, surrounded by stretches of equations, statistics, and graphs, traveling along y axis and x axis, finding each coordinate you would need. You had worked this long before but after a day of exerting yourself physically, the strain was weighing heavily on your brain. 

You close your eyes for just a second but a rude and painful awakening comes from a sharp poke in the side of your head. 

“Sorry!” Bucky calls from across the room.

You sigh and stand, rubbing the side of your head “It’s fine, I needed to wake up anyways”

You were in the land before energy drinks, your go to when the numbers become squiggles in your eyes. 

“There somewhere that sells coffee around here?” You grumble.

“Um” Bucky points to the window and you see nothing but black.

How had you missed the sun going down? 

“Nevermind.” You ran a hand over your face, eyelids growing heavier by the second, but you knew you couldn't afford to sleep, not now.

But your brain was too exhausted to make sense of the final coordinates you needed and there was no point in half-assing this and ending up in the wrong time again. You had read in some study that regular breaks actually proved to help total productivity, as hard as it was for you to believe, you weren’t opposed to a little experimenting.

Tip toeing carefully over your working, you sat on the side of the boxing ring, waiting for productivity to strike.

Bucky abandoned his paper airplane to sit next to you. The air felt heavy around you and all you could feel was the incomprehensible weight on your shoulders. You had no idea what Bucky thought, you had hardly been nice to him. But the way he was looking at you made you think he just wanted to lighten your load, just a little bit.

“So, how's it going?” He asked after a minute.

“It’s…getting there.” You fiddled with your hands “Maybe.”

“You really are weird, y‘know?”

He was smiling at you, like he had just paid you a sweet as sugar compliment.

“Thanks, Bucky.” You gave your sarcastic gratitude.

With a sudden burst of energy, he practically waltzes to the back office, you watch with amused curiosity, and when he appears again, he’s carrying the gramophone with both hands, a record under his arm.

He places it happily on the corner of the ring, lifting the red rope, he slides under and stands in the boxing ring. What was he doing now?

“C’mon.” He tilted his head at you with a smile.

Waiting for you, you supposed.

“What?”

Bucky began to pile up you papers covering the space and you flew into a panic, if he messed them all up you’d have to spend another hour putting them back in the correct order so they made sense, you hadn’t thought to number your pages because you thought he wouldn’t be stupid enough to touch them. You thought wrong.

“Bucky!” You shrieked with wide eyes.

He looked at you, calmly “I’m keeping them in order.” 

His habit of reading your mind was getting pretty annoying. You follow his lead and shuffle under the ropes out of curiosity. With your math tower tucked safely to the side out of harm's way, you faced him with a confused look. 

“You needed to wake up, right?” 

“Are we going to box? Because I don’t think I'm up for that right now.” 

“No, no” He takes the record out of its sleeve with a flourish and places it on the gramophone, setting the needle down, humming with excitement.

An upbeat song begins to play, filling the hall with hearty trumpets and jiving double bass. It almost felt like they were in the room somewhere, hiding under the boxing ring with their instruments. 

You stood a meter away from Bucky, no closer and no farther. He held out his hand, you looked around you as if there was any one else he could offer it to. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, you could barely hear yourself above the music reverberating around the walls.

“Dancing.” He said it like it was obvious.

You didn’t think you get stage fright in the absence of an audience but Bucky had a funny way of making you nervous. For the third time, you were stuck gawking at his open palm. The vibrations of the music sent waves through the boxing ring, an invisible hand urging you closer to him.

“I don’t think that’s, maybe not-” You splutter.

You tried to think of the ripples in time this could cause but all you could really focus on was how much you wanted to feel his hand in yours again.

“Spitfire.”

When would you ever get the chance again? Never, that’s the answer. Sure, time might crumble before you but he looked so happy standing there, and he didn’t have many of those moments left.

“I swear every time you look at my hand it’s like you’ve seen a ghost.”

That’s what he had in store. Becoming the most infamous ghost story history had ever heard. You made peace with the universe in a surprisingly short amount of time and decided Bucky Barnes needed this more than anything else in this world.

“You gonna keep on staring at my hand or are you gonna take it?”

You take a few tentative steps towards him and slide your right hand into his left. He directs your other hand to rest on his shoulder and he slips his hand behind you. He tucked you closer to his chest with a shy smile and a gentle pull, you gazed up at him with bright eyes, a smile hiding in the corners of your mouth just waiting to blossom.

The next ten minutes, Bucky spends teaching you how to swing dance after coming to the conclusion you had never danced with anyone in your life.

“I have!” You insist after you step on his toe for the seventeenth time.

“Do they still have feet?” He asks in fake concern. 

“Ha Ha.” You poorly cover your genuine laughter, but you couldn’t hide the smile that had crept up on you anymore.  

Dancing with Bucky was a whirlwind in the most literal sense, you spun like a pinwheel in and out of his arms. You spent half the time spiraling into danger and he would be there to catch you as if there was no risk at all. 

When he kept you close, you could just about hear him counting to the music under his breath. It was an endless night of numbers for you, but you were convinced you had never been as dizzy as this before, dipping in and out and twisting up and down but you knew he wouldn’t let you fall. There was something transporting about it, bringing truth to your daydreams.

Dancing with him felt more like time travel, than well, actual time travel. 

You were glad he wasn’t enhanced yet, or he would hear your heartbeat picking up speed. For a moment he was all you could think about, and you finally had no complaints. 

Until you saw your papers topple and scatter on the floor, the jolting of the enthusiastic swing dance lesson had your precious work falling all over the floor. 

Quickly, it all got too much, heat rushed through you and the music was thumping in your head. He was too close to you, chests stuck together that should never have touched in the first place, Hands glued to his, you were trapped in his time and you were losing yourself by the second. If you didn’t let go now, who knows what you could cause. 

“Stop, stop!” You pulled away, ripped your hand from his, stumbling back and catching yourself on the ropes. 

“You alright?” Bucky spoke cautiously behind you.

“Yeah, yes I’m okay, I just-”

You swallowed down the bile rising from your stomach, and turned to see him standing there with concern in his eyes. Damn him. Damn him for helping you.

“I need to get this done.” You hurried to pick up your work and put it back into the correct order, scared to even look at him again.

“Okay.” He sighed quietly.

Hour Fifteen

Bucky had fallen asleep sometime ago.

The sun had come up again, the cloudless sky left the blinding beams of sunlight to burst through the windows.

His gentle snoring was the only sound as you held your breath,staring at the coordinates. Double checked, triple checked. All you had to do now was put them into the GPS and go.

But something was keeping you here, just for a few moments more. If it had anything to do with the man sleeping a couple meters away, you weren’t sure. All you could do was keep your eyes on the key to your exit.

“You worked through the night?” 

Okay, so he wasn’t asleep anymore.

You could disappear right there in front of his eyes and leave him questioning everything for the rest of his life, even though you thought it would be a little funny and maybe he deserved it, it was just too risky. 

“Done it before” You shrugged.

“Well my sleep was great, surprisingly sound” He began to walk over “Oh, and if my Ma asks where I was all night, do me a solid and say the recruitment center, something about long queues i don’t know.”

Hang on.

“You haven’t enlisted yet?” 

“No?” 

“Haven’t been to the recruitment center at all?”

“Been a bit busy” He chuckles

“Well you should go, go do it now”

“What?”

You thought he had gone by now.

“I’ll do it later, suppose” He shrugs

You looked at the coordinates. You could go home. But you couldn’t. Bucky hadn’t enlisted. And if he doesn’t join the army then, then Steve probably wouldn’t either and Captain America wouldn’t exist and maybe we didn’t win the war, maybe we lost all of the wars, the battle of new york, the battle of the earth.

Him not becoming a sergeant . you couldn’t begin to think of the implications.

Was it all your fault? 

“Been thinking about it a lot and I know my dad did and all that, but…I don't know”

You had currently beaten your record for amount of shits in a twenty four hour span ten times over.

Getting home, All of this means absolutely nothing if Bucky doesn’t go to war. 

He needed to enlist, he had too, you were to blame for this, and you were damn right gonna fix it.

You had to make him join the army, no matter the cost.

Maybe you could afford a couple more days here, you supposed.

“You figure out all your math?” Bucky asks. 

You turned to him and stood.

“Not quite.”

Tag-list: @emily-roberts @enchantedbarnes @marygoddessofmischief @nickangel13 @elxvrr @pixiesbored @skittle479 @sweetwritingfanficfriend @curlycarley​ @acceptedbyace​ (bold means I couldn’t tag you)

[betaeha]

INTRO !

hi hi all!! this is ellie, aka the mun behind besana!! i’ve been waiting a Long time to bring taeha in, and i’m so excited to finally have her here!!

here is a link to her profile if you’d like to learn a bit about her, and her bio if you want some more detail!! i’ll put a bit about her under the cut, but please like this post if you’re interested and i will come to you for plotting!! i can also plot over discord if that’s easier!

taeha works a lot of part-time jobs, mostly for various local family businesses! she works for a lot of mom & pop shops, and a lot of her bosses/clients are older empty-nesters running family shops

she works largely around her own schedule, letting people reach out to her when they need an extra set of hands or reaching out herself to her favorites when hours are short so she can offer her services. it’s not the most stable career, but she’s well-known in her neighborhood for being a good worker and kind person, and she does everything from deliveries to inventory to cashiering to repairing/installing appliances. anything she doesn’t know how to do, she figures it out.

she also attends k-arts part time for music performance

in what little free time she has, she goes to auditions for fun when they’re available

she was a trainee at a small company for four years and didn’t make it through a survival show in 2022, but she still finds time to pursue her dream

because she’s so busy all the time, she’s really stressed, but she’s also got eldest daughter syndrome coming out her ears so she refuses to ask for help

this means that once every month or so, taeha totally breaks down for a few days, often with a fever from pushing herself too hard. she insists it’s fine and she can deal with it (she’s not and she can’t help her pls)

wanted connections !

a roommate!! she’s living alone in a really crappy place and she doesn’t have the energy or time to take care of it or herself; maybe she moves in with your muse and they start to realize how incredibly Stressed this girl is

coworkers! taeha is a well-known face at a lot of small local places, and she picks up new jobs all the time. she’s not usually at the same place for more than two or three days in a row before she heads off for a different job — she kind of cycles through all of them over the course of a couple weeks. she’s a fun coworker though, and will gladly make friends with anyone and everyone at all her jobs!!

friends! taeha is one of those helpful people who introduces herself to everybody so she can get work from them or just make the networking connection, but it means she’s severely lacking in friends her age. it’s hard to make lasting friends when you never settle down, after all

taeha occasionally gives private vocal lessons if she’s Really strapped for cash. maybe you’re one of her students, current or former, or you overhear her singing to herself and beg her to teach you how to sing. whatever works!!

[vxperorchist]

Hello, I saw that your requests are open! May I ask for best friend headcanons of Nilou, Kokomi and Fischl separately with fem reader?

Thank you in advance and have a wonderful day.

Best friends! (Ft. Fischl, Kokomi, and Nilou!)

Genre: Fluff/friendship!

Warnings: None!

This request is so adorable and I love it!!

Thank you so much for requesting because I was like "I have no clue what I want to write" and then I got this request and this is so cute.

I need to write for some of these characters more because I love them

Fischl

Fischl has a hard time making friends that will stick with her, however you were one of the rare few that could see down to her core, and understand her person, and not the front she put on.

As someone who has trouble verbally expressing her feelings or intentions in a friendship, she expresses it through other means. This consists of buying you or hand making gifts. (The Prinzessin has many talents, and has no trouble when it comes to buying things)

She loves to talk, but she's also an amazing listener when it comes to your issues, or even just listening to you talk about anything. She will engage in it too, whether its drama or advice.

Oz is of course included in the friendship, and the three of you are a known trio. She enjoys doing commissions with your company, as it fills the yearning for a true friendship.

The two of you rarely do anything without each other, if ones somewhere, the other is very close nearby. Walking around in the city of Mondstadt or catching a show at a restaurant is another fun way she enjoys hanging out with you.

She's also very good at doing hair. (Have you seen how cute her hair is??) So she's all for sitting you down and doing your hair how she sees fit.

She's also very big on watching the stars, telling you all about them and their meanings. (Even if they are made up according to her knowledge,)

She finds sharing her knowledge and experiences one of the best ways to convey your bond and friendship, as the Prinzessins knowledge isn't shared with everybody!

Kokomi

Kokomi doesn't struggle making friends, but she struggles keeping them with her inanely busy schedule. Even without a war or conflict within Inazuma, she is still a leader, and finds it hard to make time for herself, or to hang out with the people she enjoys.

With the limited time she does have, she hangs out with her childhood friend, that being you of course.

She knows you understand her schedule and is so incredibly grateful for the effort you put in to see her and check in on her regularly. She'll return the effort too.

You'll send her letters when she's busy and you can't see her physically, letting her know you're thinking of her and miss her! You'll send her a flower or two, her favorites of course. She'll send you one right back, with a shell she found, and a handwritten note telling you you're sleeping over at the palace as soon as she gets the chance.

When the rare opportunity that she has a moment of free time arises, she invites you over and the two of you have a much-needed girls' night.

It consists of lounging around, self care, and more. She needs it more than anything, and what better way to spend time then with your best friend?

She tells you everything that is going on with her life, even the technical stuff that you have not a clue about. All you know is being a leader is hard, but at least you have each other!

Nilou

Nilou has an abundance of friends, but something about you is incredibly special to her. The two of you clicked better than the rest. That's what made you best friends.

You're front row at all of her performances and are always her biggest cheerleader. Her favorite part of every performance is the afterparty, where the two of you typically go back to either of your houses and talk about everything.

She LOVES a good debrief after any event. She gets around Sumeru, and she is all for telling you the drama she knows or has heard of. The night can consist of many "There's no way she said that!" or "You won't believe who I just saw in the city."

She's another rather busy girl, but she always makes an opportunity to talk to the one person who knows her better than the rest.

She's also an amazing wingwoman. Got an eye on a special someone??? She's already working on a plan. Ways to flirt, how to work with them, and more. She has her ways.

She's also really good with fashion and is very good at picking outfits for you. Her outfits are always top tier and have never missed.

She has printed photos of the two of you on her vanity backstage, she sees it as a motivation to do her best.

[mbrainspaz]

ok I worked out another thing that's been stressing me out about this work situation. My main coworker has been gone and the boss refused to let me work overtime and then just... didn't really do anything to fill the gap, right? Today when I brought up my concerns about the stuff being neglected she was all "why didn't you just say so?" Ma'am?! Why didn't I simply explain to you, a person who skipped the meeting we were supposed to have to figure this out & who has no idea how to do my job, exactly how to do my entire job... via text message? On my time off??? aaaaah?! But I couldn't express that so in the moment I was just like, "well someone should probably feed these two horses at this time and start the sprinklers in these specific paddocks." She was like, "oh... that's all?" And I felt like an idiot for even bringing it up when she put it like that—but no actually that's not all. This is why I can't just do meetings and talk this stuff out! I can't process all the subtext and all the angles in the moment. I could tell I was deeply upset about how she'd handled the situation but I couldn't fully explain why. It was because not only did she tell me not to do the work that needed doing and repeatedly downplay my concerns, she still expected me to run the business by proxy—or she just didn't care if the work didn't get done. The closest I got to actually expressing my frustration was when I said, "you know I've been working half-days for the last three days—what did you think was going to happen? I'm never out there just doing nothing. Things haven't been getting done. I asked to be allowed to do it and you said no. You said you would do it, but you didn't know what needs to be done." And she said, "That's why I need you to tell me. It's all about communication." No! NO! That's why you should have let me do my damn job. Now she wants me to take tomorrow off and it's just gonna be the two kids and the temp guy working with the old guy who doesn't even technically work here?!? She keeps texting me trite things like 'I value you' but it's so transparent I can barely see it. If she understood a thing about me she wouldn't bother. I know she's annoyed with me. I'm annoyed with me.

She didn't give me a coherent schedule all week so I had to make up my own where I was working 4 half days in a row and she just.... nobody cared that nobody was here to run the business all afternoon for FOUR DAYS. If I hadn't gone in on my 'free' time to feed one of the old horses he'd probably be deceased by now. I mean the old guy stepped up and helped a lot but nobody else knows how to run the whole barn all day. Nobody else CARES.

So yeah it's my bad for not busting down her office door 7 days ago and giving her step by step instructions on how to run this business and manage a bunch of green employees I don't have the power to schedule. AAAAAAH! I hate that every time I meet with her I have to be so focused on being calm and professional and normal that she just steamrollers me with her reasonable demeanor and talk about all the things she's trying to do to make this place run right—if only she had more time and wasn't sooooo busy managing way too many other more important things. That's absolutely not my problem. I can't tell her how to do her job. And she couldn't tell me how to do mine if she tried. And I'm like, fine—pay me to just take care of it all! I'm good at caring. I could run this place if they'd just LET me. They keep leaving me to cope with endless problems they won't let me solve. I don't even want the responsibility. I don't really need more money from them. Apart from the existential dread slowly driving me towards a manic breakdown I've had a great time this week actually having free time to work on my art. I started editing a new video for the first time in 2 years! I'm just glad I didn't overwork myself for them just to get in trouble for it again. Well, except for the 3-4 extra hours I spent doing a little this or that here and there just to make sure nobody died. How could I ever explain that to someone who happily works in an office for a soulless, faceless, money-gobbling, lifeforce-devouring, bystander-crushing unstoppable gestalt entity that is a management corporation.

Ugh. I can't even stand listening to me rant about this. Actually they should just fire me. It'd be a relief. I'd go live in the desert and scream at the stars like gods intended.

[kareenvorbarra]

bitching about work-related things

okay so. i stayed home sick Monday-Wednesday this week with a cold. i felt really shitty for a few days but nothing unusual, i didn't have a fever, the home covid test was negative. yesterday i text my boss to tell her i'm staying home a third day, and she says that if i'm out sick for three days in a row, i need a doctor's note saying i'm okay to come back in. not a doctor's note as an excuse for being out this long, but after three days i can't return to work unless a doctor says it's okay.

i didn't know this until my boss told me - my previous job (which was in a different part of the same organization) had a similar rule, but it only kicked in if you were out for five days in a row, which i think only happened to me once and it was because i had mono (so i had already been to the doctor to get the diagnosis and it was easy to get her to write me the letter)

so yesterday i called the clinic a couple of times trying to figure out what to do, because i was pretty sure i would feel okay enough to go to work today (Thursday), but nothing really came of it, I couldn't get in touch with my doctor or any of her nurses, the nurses i talked to at the urgent care were very nice but they said they couldn't write me a note without actually seeing me, and i could kind of tell they didn't want me to have to go to the urgent care when it was pretty clear i didn't need to. finally someone told me that the doctor's office would call me the next day and figure out what i needed to do. so i text my boss and tell her i couldn't get a note, i'm going to be out at least one more day, it's fine.

today i didn't mind missing work again because i'm still a little bit sick, though not really sick enough by shitty US calling-in-sick standards (i have gone to work feeling like this, most people i know have gone to work sicker than this, even though people probably shouldn't be doing that). i waited all morning for someone to call me, nobody did. so i went on the website of my health care provider and apparently they're having trouble with their phones and website right now. i can't log into the site that would let me send and receive messages from my doctor, i can't even look up the doctor on the website to find her phone number.

anyway i feel insane and i can't believe i'm here tearing my hair out and making a bunch of phone calls trying to go back to work after having a mildly bad cold. has anyone else ever worked somewhere that doesn't allow you to come back in after being out sick for THREE DAYS without a doctor saying you're okay? maybe if health care was free i wouldn't mind just trying to schedule an appointment at urgent care, but i don't want to have to pay for an appointment i don't need just to be able to go back to work? i truly do not mind missing work, they will be fine without me for another day, and tbh it's my workplace's fault for having this rule, but i'm also a little worried that my boss is going to be annoyed at me for having trouble getting this doctor's note...like i'm not trying hard enough or something (even though this is 100% a problem of my workplace's own creation)

[welcome-to-oslov]

World-Building Questions

Is it cringe how much I like getting comments on these stories? Then I'm cringe. All comments are helpful to me, but I especially like world-building questions. I got some great ones from Rain, who was reading "All the Kinds of Broken," and they gave me permission to copy the Q&A here as a resource. It's probably most helpful to anyone who starts with the prequel story, since the other stories address at least some of these issues (maybe not all!).

Is the story set in a nuclear winter? They are literally in the Arctic (Baffin Island, I think), and at least parts of North America (which they call Harbour) are still habitable and temperate. But the apocalyptic event they call the Unraveling did involve nuclear strikes.

Can you explain the calendar system to me? How many free nights are in a ten-day, or is it ten days of work, then a free night? How many free nights are in a row? I admit I've never actually figured out the schedule. It varies by which ten-day of the month it is, so it's really complicated! The number of free-nights varies from three to four to possibly occasionally five, and they never occur in a row. It's a workaholic culture, and the difficult-to-memorize schedule for Upstarts and government functionaries is yet another form of elitism. The Laborer schedule is simpler and more generous with free time.

When is New Year celebrated? How many days and months are there to a year, and how any holidays? Do days and months have names? For simplicity's sake, I gave them the same 12 months as our calendar and the same new year. There is a traditional winter fest in late December, but they generally shun holidays because of their association with religion, which is considered subversive. (There's a traditional religion some Laborers believe in, left over from Feudal times. The Spark is the main deity figure, and it all goes back to being deprived of power and the internet after the Unraveling.)

What is year zero, is it related to Whyberg? How many years has it been since then? How many years did the Unravelling take, and how many years since? I just looked at the timeline I wrote in a binder decades ago and realized it's irrelevant because I changed some major things. (Oslov used to be its own planet! :) ) So basically, the Unraveling was about 500 years ago. Major cities were devastated, and some refugees moved north to escape the radiation. They lost their tech and reverted to "Feudalism," worshipping the Spark (electricity) but seeing it as magic. Meanwhile, a major Arctic research station managed to preserve the technology and culture of the past, similar to a medieval monastery. For a long time, the scientists kept out the Feudals, but eventually their cultures merged and they had a "Quiet Revolution" in which they overturned the Feudal lords and chieftains and started to envisage a merit-based society.

The Quiet Revolution is year zero. Whyberg is born soon afterward and completes this project of basing social status on intelligence, which was the ethos of the research station. He codifies everything and creates the new government. This story starts in year 341. So 300 years after Whyberg, give or take.

Is sap an opium product derived from poppies? Sap is derived from the sap/pitch of the rare, delicate muirthorn pine, which becomes an issue later because the pine plantation can be sabotaged. According to Feudal legend, owls gave sap to humankind. What it actually is chemically is an excellent question, but in larger doses, it can have hallucinogenic effects.

Is Oslov slightly based off of the USSR with Oslov being Russia and a place like Thurskein a smaller SSR? How did Oslov come to conquer Thurskein? Does Oslov control any other states? Did Thurskein originally have a different language? What language is Oslov derived from? Yes! Oslov is partially based on my vague concept of the USSR as a kid growing up during the Cold War. Thurskein wasn't conquered, though, but built as an industrial city to produce goods for the rest of the Republic (there's one other such city: Karkei). It was always planned as a city of Laborers under Redda's control, and it's always shared a language with Redda, though it has its own dialect.

Oslov has an isolationist, anti-imperialist official ideology. But it does have a trading center in Harbour (formerly North America) and a garrison and exerts some power there by virtue of its tech—we see that in "The Trip to Harbour."

Oslov is mostly derived from Scandinavian and Germanic languages, but the research station had several nationalities represented, so there are also people of South Asian descent, Russian influences, etc.

You mentioned Kafka's Metamorphisis, I think, but what was the Tangle romance Tilrey read a bit earlier? Yes, The Metamorphosis is the insect one! I'm not sure if I settled on a specific book for the romance, but it might be Theodore Dreiser's An American Tragedy. In another story I think there's a reference to The Red and the Black. Both those are novels about ambitious young men trying to climb the ranks in an unequal society, so they have strong relevance for Tilrey.

Is the Upstart practice of having kettle boys raped by other servants of theirs intentional so as to create division within the lower class? It's a hold-over from brutal Feudal customs, but it serves double duty to create those divisions, absolutely. Mostly Upstarts segregate themselves from Laborers (living in different parts of the city, putting most Laborers in the industrial cities), but when they do live close together, they find other ways to keep Laborers from having thoughts about rebellion.

Oslov was inspired by the classic dystopia Metropolis and how it talks about the head (intellectuals, managers) versus the hands (workers) of the body politic. Oslovs think they have those two elements balanced in a fair, equitable way, with social mobility built in, but they really don't.

Thanks again for these great questions! I was looking through old stuff from high school, and I found the earliest Oslov stories I ever wrote, along with my unfinished guide to the Oslov language. Maybe I'll do another post with pics, just for fun. One story was typed on an electric typewriter and the other was printed on a dot-matrix printer, to give you a sense of time frame.

[aceometric]

trying to plan out a Quarry fanfiction covering the camp months, and I am quickly realizing I have no idea how summer camps work and the information we get in the game is not helping

The calendar in Mr. H's office is wrong, the days not matching up to July 2021 (July 1st is Thursday) but that's easy to just offset it a little. The events listed on the calendar mostly match up with the Ledger in his draw, and it was easy to extrapolate events into the last week of June and all of August from there.

Library Reading is meant to be on Friday but it only appears there once. It is listed twice on Wednesday, but Hiking (a canceled event) is meant to be on Wednesdays and reading is noticed as a replacement for outdoor tasks in case of poor weather. Scavenger hunt is also noted in the book to be canceled (these are presumably due to Laura and Max's absence and the lack of staff) but actually does appear on the calendar for some reason (but only once, so maybe they gave it a shot? I feel like Hiking would have made more sense as a trial run though)

edit: just realized hiking IS listed on the last Wednesday. so now I have no idea what the thinking THERE is

I initially thought that the shooting matches weren't listed, but on closer look they appear to have taken the place of some of the Friday reading (presumably because they replaced all the hiking days with reading???). I was tripped up a little by it being listed as "Shooting Stars Prizes" but I think that the actual shooting happens on that day as well.

Thursday is definitely the weirdest day. In addition the the random scavenger hunt, we have baseball and swimming competitions (sports events that should be on Wednesday) which I initially thought were meant to be replacements for the scavenger hunt, except they're on the wrong weeks. The other listed Thursday task is Rowing, which Ryan also does on Mondays, and are clearly meant to alternate witch day its on every week.

Maybe they offset the entire plan to put the scavenger hunt in the first week to get it out of the way? replacing what was meant to be the first rowing day with the hunt?

Speaking of rowing Ryan is consistently called the Sailing instructor in dialogue, but I think that's just a script error since we only ever see canoes and that's his job in the notebook.

I can't remember any off the top of my head (i'll have to keep a list when I start replaying next) but I'm pretty sure the game mentions things that aren't on the list at all.

Also, beneath the Calendar is a note listing the daily schedule. I can't find a screenshot of it, but i'm pretty sure its nonsense. It has four three hour blocks and none of them cover the daily events or leave room for free time activities.

Why did I decide to write a pre-canon work?

[darsynia]

This afternoon is a TRIP. Just hit a follower milestone 💚 ty for following!! 💚 right after getting back home from DRIVING AROUND FOR THE SECOND DAY IN A ROW LOOKING FOR MY CHILDREN.

Rant about the school and my kids lying to me under the cut.

At the beginning of the school year Youngest's teacher and I held multiple conversations about dismissal, and during none of them was I told a family member had to make eye contact with the teacher (2nd grade) to dismiss Youngest. This only became an issue a few months ago when Middle Kiddo was sick and didn't walk home with Youngest, Oldest forgot to pick her up after being reminded, and so Youngest just... played on the school grounds instead of coming home for funsies.

Then I was threatened by the school about following the handbook (there's nothing in the handbook about dismissal), told I would need to have a WRITTEN PERMISSION SLIP for my older daughters to walk Youngest home (also not actual policy they made it up because they were mad), and finally everything was worked out because the Vice Principal was embarrassed that I knew what I was talking about and called her out on the gaslighting. So we agreed that one of the two sisters had to pick up Youngest every day. They worked out a schedule.

Yesterday, I found out that Middle Kiddo has been running away and leaving Youngest to walk home alone for weeks now, and just slowing down when she gets close to home so they walk in the door at the same time. This after some random old guy (we live near a thriving main street) gave Youngest twenty dollars and wouldn't take it back. So you know, already some danger there.

So I said we'd have to have me come in the car every M W F because Tuesdays and Thursdays the Oldest walks Youngest home. Except Oldest was sick today, so we agreed that Middle Kiddo would do it. Oldest felt better, walked up to say bye to friends, and when she got there, she said Middle Kiddo was looking for Youngest. The teacher said 'oh, Youngest told me her mom was picking her up so I let her leave.'

Guys.

The school THREATENED ME and said I had to have WRITTEN PERMISSION for even the OTHER SIBLINGS to pick this kid up. But the teacher just let her go? (I should add, on the first day of her kindergarten, all 3 kids were set to wait for us to walk home with them, and the teacher just let Youngest leave with her siblings against policy because they looked happy to see each other. The three of them proceeded to get lost and it took us 90 minutes to find them. Which, HILARIOUSLY. HI LAR I OUS LY is why there's stricter policies on letting kids leave with siblings now. It's because of that. Which they just did. Again. To the same kid.

I CANNOT.

Anyway, Youngest just walked her ass home without looking for me or her sisters. And my husband just said 'I don't think you should try to get her teacher in trouble again.'

I never tried to get the teacher in trouble! The VP asked me how I was under the impression that second graders could leave of their own free will and I said that, you know, I'd stood there for 2 school years picking her up at Kindergarten and First Grade and NEVER SAW SECOND GRADERS EVER WAITING. Also I read the fucking handbook. Which doesn't even have K-1 supposed to be escorted but whatever. Apparently the VP went to talk to the teacher and the teacher was like 'whoops yeah I was supposed to tell her' but ME NOT KNOWING THAT IS NOT GETTING HER IN TROUBLE.

I'm just.

I have parking anxiety. It's my biggest stupid fear. I hate it. I used to leave for the school an HOUR EARLY so I didn't have to struggle to find parking. I REJOICED when she hit 2nd grade so I didn't have to park and walk up and pick her up in person. I was CLEAR about that to her teacher (I actually just... incidentally mentioned it to her teacher. Who didn't tell me 'actually I need you to come this year too' even though we had multiple convos where she could bring it up). So for this to STILL BE A THING in MARCH.

I am going to have to go every day and park and pick her up. Cause I can't trust the school, I can't trust the kids, and I just... don't want Mr. 'here kid here's $20' guy to turn out to be malicious.

BONUS STORY:

When Oldest was in kindergarten, we had bussing because actually the street that kiddos have to cross is huge and dangerous. So dangerous that they required us to bus even though we're close. Now that they don't have funding for busses after covid, they just have them walk across it anyway with no crossing guard but WHATEVER. The bus picked our kids up last and dropped them off first.

But! It had a little dogleg kind of route it took and sometimes the bus driver was lazy. This meant that instead of dropping my kid off at the first bus stop, she just got to sit there in terror and watch as the bus drove farther and farther away from her house, OR tell the bus driver he forgot OR just get off and make her way home instead of being in trouble for still being on the bus when it skipped her stop.

Oldest usually chose option #3. So there I am, I've got a 2 year old and I'm 9 months pregnant, and it's pouring down rain, and there's no Oldest at the bus stop. She's 5. I call the school. They call the bus driver. Bus driver is confused, says he'll just swing by when he's done with Oldest.

We wait 25 minutes in the rain.

Bus driver drives up. Shrugs. No kids left.

We start driving around looking, and finally decide well heck maybe she figured out how to get home--and yep SHE DID.

So yeah this school and dismissal... it ain't great. They did that to her about 5 more times that year. She thought it was fun.

[ikesenhell]

A Sun Long Gone, Chapter Five

You can find all masterlists at the top of my page (AO3, Genshin Impact, Ikemen Sengoku, and Ikemen Vampire). NOTES: This work is 18+. Highly suggestive content (naked person, no explicit sex, just vague making out). A fade to black lmao. Uhhh unwarranted angst, arriving on heelies to sucker punch you?

I SWEAR YALL ARE GETTING YOUR NSFW CHAPTER AFTER THIS ONE. DON'T WORRY.

---

The next few nights brought a change in routine for Dainsleif. It had been too long since any of the Khaenri’ahn guard were properly trained; being so far away from their usual grounds had ensured that. While every morning was spent running the usual drills, Lord Alberich suddenly took a keen interest in observing additional sparring three nights in a row. 

Out loud, Dainsleif said nothing. This was his job. He was used to having abrupt changes in schedule; adding new meetings about the latest military technology, new tactics, intelligence reports at odd hours. It wouldn’t even be the first time a higher up had decided on an inspection.

But Dainsleif understood what was actually happening. Lord Alberich was clearly uncomfortable with Rukkhadevata’s proximity. That much made sense. After all, Dainsleif had once believed she had an ulterior motive for taking an interest in him (Khaenri’ah’s secrets were widely and expensively sought). So, yes , Dainsleif didn’t question why his nights were no longer free. 

(Admittedly, he was still very annoyed.)

The Eremites and Forest Rangers supplied training grounds. Rukkhadevata also stopped by on the second night, inquiring if they needed any other supplies (they didn’t). Dainsleif tried not to draw any more attention to the two of them. He kept his eyes straight ahead, inspecting the sparring soldiers. He could feel Lord Alberich’s gaze burning into the back of his skull the whole time. 

Every night when he went to bed, Dainsleif would try and resign himself to sleep. He didn’t dream much in Sumeru. No. Instead, he would envision the last time he got to kiss Rukkhadevata. Damn Alberich. Damn responsibilities. The sweet aroma of oud and Jasmine was all but faded from his memory and mouth. Would he ever get another opportunity?

The day after the third night of this, Rukkhadevata rose from a meeting in the Akademiya and stretched. Her hair was hung with tiny gold threads and peppered with embroidered Sumeru roses. Yes, Dainsleif was used to his job. Yes, he was accustomed to the abrupt change in shifts. He’d still laid eyes on her this morning (in all her pretty, sun-kissed glory) and wanted to smack Lord Alberich up the head for keeping him from her. 

“Lord Alberich?” She said.

“Rukkhadevata,” the man replied. It was lunchtime. His face showed it. Today’s meeting was especially irritating in the details. 

“I presume you’ll be dining with the sages again? I don’t suppose you’re willing to lend me your Twilight Sword, would you? I had plans to meet with Forest Ranger Takama and I may need an extra pair of hands should she pass along some medicinal herbs for your men.”

What was this about? He hadn’t requested any such thing. True, his men always needed things for various scrapes and ailments, but he’d never passed along a request for it. Dainsleif watched the other man’s mouth twitch. Lord Alberich seemed to think the same thing. 

“I could lend you another soldier.”

That was bait. Rukkhadevata didn’t take it. She just smiled, tucking a pen behind her ear. “I’m happy to accept whoever you send me. I just need someone who has a full understanding of all the needs you might have at this time.”

That could only be him. No one else knew or anticipated his soldier’s needs. Clearly Lord Alberich realized this. He cast a leery gaze at Dainsleif. 

“Would you be free, Sir Dainsleif?” 

Dainsleif pretended to pause, replying, “I would be able to answer any questions the forest rangers might have.”

“Then go. Obviously, attend to Lord Rukkhadevata as you would me.”

Dainsleif ground down the urge to reply, ‘ I promise I attend to you two much differently’ . Instead, he opted to nod, provide a salute, rise, and follow Rukkhadevata out into the hallway. 

It was an extra busy day in the Akademiya. Scholars and scribes raced in and out of the Grand Sage’s office, armloads of books and parcels clutched in tired fists. The sun was bright and warm. Dainsleif realized he was getting more used to it with every passing day. They wound down the wide avenues and–once well caught up to her and far enough from the doors–he brushed his mouth against her ear. 

“You made that up,” he whispered. 

Rukkhadevata cast her green eyes back at him, a smile glittering there. “Oh?”

“None of us asked for medical supplies. If you wanted to provide them, you could’ve sent one of your doctors from the Bimarstaan.”

She turned her head back toward the road. Even from the side, he could see the curve of a mischievous smirk. “And?”

“You knew Lord Alberich was suddenly keeping me well in his sight and would also know the same.”

The rich scent of spices caught on the wind. Children dashed past them, laughing and tossing a ball. As natural as the sky, she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, using the lurch in street traffic to cover for it. “Are you aware you’re being monitored at night?”

“I assumed as much. I didn’t know you were also monitoring us.”

“Not exactly. The Eremites handle any security concerns. That isn’t relayed to me, but to the Akademiya, and your being monitored wouldn’t make their list.”

“Then who told you?”

“The Aranara.”

He’d grown used to much of Sumeru at this point. Dainsleif hesitated at this word. “The what now?”

Rukkhadevata paused for a moment. “They’re a small creature; very childlike. They like to chatter about all sorts of things they see.” “I have follow up questions.”

“Ask them.”

“Have I met one?”

“No. Children tend to be the only ones that do.”

A thousand other questions cropped up. Dainsleif shunted them to the side. Teyvat was a wild and wonderful place indeed. “Alright. Why did they feel this was of note to you?”

Once more, she paused. This time she blushed. “I might’ve mentioned you to them at one point. Apparently, one of them took it upon themselves to try and make sure you were safe. He felt the need to tell me you were being watched.”

Despite himself, Dainsleif laughed. She blinked. “Nothing,” he chuckled. “I’m reminded of fairytales we have in Khaenri’ah. They’re about princesses who talk to animal helpers.”

How had he gone three days without that smile? She tucked her pretty hooked nose into her hair, embarrassed, and he wanted to fist fight Lord Alberich in the Grand Bazaar. “Anyway, obviously this is my fault, and for that, I’m sorry. We haven’t exactly been subtle.”

“No. That much is true. I take it you have some kind of a plan to take the heat off?”

“Yes. Have you ever seen a magic show?”

What a bizarre conversation this was. Admittedly, he couldn’t pretend that he didn’t enjoy it. Someone dropped a goblet of tea in the street beside them; before the glass shattered, he grabbed her by the waist and pivoted, liquid spattering his cape. Rukkhadevata blinked owlishly up at him from his chest. 

“Watch yourself.” Dainsleif checked over her hair and shawl. No stains. Good. 

“My hero,” she giggled. 

Now it was his turn to be embarrassed. Clearing his throat, he said, “It has been a long, long time since I last saw a magic show. Why do you ask?”

“You’re familiar with the premise, though? No actual magic takes place, nor any elemental reactions. It’s all sleight of hand. So long as the magician can successfully redirect your attention where they want it, they are at liberty to establish any illusion they like.”

People behind him were still in an uproar. Someone–the person who'd dropped the tea, Dainsleif guessed–tapped his shoulder and said something in a dialect he didn't recognize. 

"He says he's terribly sorry," Rukkhadevata explained. "He's also offering you some free tea to make up for his mistake."

"Things happen." Unclipping his cape, Dainsleif shook some liquid free. "It’s waterproof anyway. I don't need any tea."

Chuckling, she replied, "He's going to insist. That's Sumeru."

Sure enough, the vendor was already busying himself with two copper mugs. A tea kettle on a large stick went into a barrel filled with sand heated over a fire; as the vendor pushed the kettle in circles, the liquid bubbled to the surface. Dainsleif barely had a moment before they were shooed along with their new drinks. Back to the topic at hand. Draping his cloak over an arm, Dainsleif said, "Yes, I'm familiar with how magic shows work. I presume that's your strategy here, then?"

"You'd be correct. Your superior does not trust me. I can't entirely blame him. Were the truth of the matter known, it would cause different problems in suspicions' place. The delicate balance is establishing enough of the truth–that I have no interest in mining you for Khaenri’ahn secrets, that I deeply enjoy you–and then obfuscating the rest."

“Very well. How do you propose to do that?”

Puspa Cafe was on them in a blink. Rukkhadevata gathered a skirt up in her free hand and spun around to face him. What a strange series of events he was caught in! Dainsleif, Khaenri’ah’s Twilight Sword, collaborating with Sumeru’s Archon to conceal a tryst. It was the surest testament to how much he trusted her. Before he could stop himself, he reached up and cupped her jaw in his palm. Her heavy gold earrings smacked against his knuckle. Reckless? Yes. They were very much in public. But Dainsleif couldn’t ignore the way her eyes went hazy and soft at his touch, nor how she leaned into him. 

“Bold,” she murmured. “You’re very bold, sir.”

What could he say? Rukkhadevata made him impulsive. After (scant) seconds, he dropped his hand away. “I suppose I am.”

She smiled. “I propose to–with your permission–bring Takama into this.”

—

The next morning bloomed bright and early, and Takama waited inside the House of Daena. Dainsleif saw her beaded headband and gold ears as soon as the Khaenri’ahn delegation headed toward the lift to the Grand Sage’s office. 

“Lord Alberich? A moment. I need to go meet with the forest ranger.”

If he were more or less suspicious today, the elder man didn’t show it. He just glanced over at Takama. “We’ll continue our way. Meet us whenever you’re done.”

“Certainly.”

Stifling a yawn, Dainsleif jogged over to the woman. Last night’s training had gone on especially long. At this point, it felt like he was being pressed for a weakness. For her part, Takama glanced between his face and his countrymen continuing on.

“Have anything for me?” Dainsleif asked.

She didn’t answer. Instead she produced a paper satchel of medicinal herbs tied with a string. When Dainsleif went to take it, Takama wrapped her hand (paw? The bones felt different) around his wrist.

“One second,” she muttered. “I’m waiting for them to be up the lift before I make you regret having me involved in this.”

Damn woman. He really, really would miss her. Dainsleif released a loud, aggrieved sigh, but held still. The lift whirred to life behind him. At last, Takama’s eyes snapped over to his. 

“How am I going to regret this?” He asked drily. 

She grinned; a broad, wicked thing that reminded him of a cat who’d broken into an aquarium and eaten all the fish, still licking its paws at the scene of a crime. “I don’t know, Sir Dainsleif . I know I’m missing information, but if I had to guess–”

“--and you don’t have to guess, you really don’t–”

“--I think you’re enamored with my–”

He clamped a hand over her mouth. Takama squealed so loud a laugh that the nearby scholars shot them dirty looks. “Thank you for the herbs. Anything else today, Forest Ranger ?”

Swatting away his palm, she answered, “I’ll be joining you and Rukkhadevata for dinner again today.”

Again. That was a telling word. He almost asked and then thought better of it. Whatever magic trick Rukkhadevata planned on pulling off, it doubtless hinged on him accepting every word either of the women said as absolute truth. So long as this gambit got him his evenings back. 

—

At the end of today’s meetings, Rukkhadevata turned to Lord Alberich. The mood was better today than yesterday. The air was fresh and carried the promise of eventual rain, wafting through the windows and into the meeting room. 

“Lord Alberich. I don’t suppose you’re free for dinner tonight?”

For his part, Lord Alberich looked so thoroughly confused that he couldn’t quite recover. “I apologize, was that on the itinerary?”

“Oh, no. No. You see, some evenings I like to have a few people to my personal quarters. Of late it’s just been myself, some of my assistants like Jyoti and Abeni, and Forest Ranger Takama, but we’ve had Sir Dainsleif join us as well. I thought I’d have you two tonight, if you’d allow me the courtesy?”

Lord Alberich’s eyes swiveled to his. Dainsleif did his absolute best to look as stoic as possible. 

“I do not have plans at present,” the older man finally allowed. “I suppose both myself and Sir Dainsleif will accept your invitation. Is there a time you would expect us?”

“Oh, no. Sir Dainsleif, I have no doubt, can bring you along at the expected time and place. Would you be so kind, Dainsleif?”

“If Lord Alberich has no need of me tonight with the soldiers, then I’d be happy to be a guide.”

Clearly the invitation shocked Lord Alberich. On their way back to the Khaenri’ahn quarters beforehand, the noble pivoted, shooting Dainsleif a stare. 

“I wasn’t aware of you attending any dinners.”

“I’m sure you were aware that I was out in Sumeru City in the evenings,” Dainsleif replied evenly. “Most of those times were in the company of Rukkhadevata or Takama.”

“Is that so?”

“It is.”

“And yet, you’ve reported nothing back to me.”

“The contents of the dinner conversations have been terribly inane. I’m sure you’ll see.”

—

Dainsleif had been bluffing. Fortunately, it seemed like some helpful wind carried his words to Takama. Dinner conversation tonight was utterly insane.The foursome met on the back pathway of the Akademiya and followed Rukkhadevata back to her quarters from there. She prepared them all a meal personally (a delicious curry that Takama demanded the recipe for). Cards came out; Dainsleif and Takama shot such intense smack talk over a game that Rukkhadevata almost cried laughing. By the end of the night, even Lord Alberich relaxed. He poured each of them a glass of wine and discussed the finer points of Rukkhadevata’s book collection with her–until Takama yelled at a bad hand of cards and flipped her deck into Dainsleif’s face. 

The night had well and truly fallen when the two men headed back to the Khaenri’ahn quarters. Clouds obscured the stars and moon. Over distant Dragonspine, lightning forked through the fog. Sprinkles of rain speckled Dainsleif’s cheeks. It was only once they got inside that Lord Alberich paused at his doorway. 

“Rukkhadevata and Takama. They seem…”

“Nice,” Dainsleif supplied. “They’re quite nice.” 

A beat. Lord Alberich exhaled, his fingertips drumming against the doorknob. “I won’t pretend as if I have no reservations on your conduct.”

“Of course, my Lord.”

“But it doesn’t seem as if you’re threatening Khaenri’ah with it.”

“I’m pleased to hear that, my Lord.”

“You’re not as difficult to read as you think you are, Sir Dainsleif. Stop agreeing with me so I’ll leave you alone. It’s obvious to anyone who looks that you’re taken with the Dendro Archon. Not even your show tonight can dissuade me of that.”

Silence fell between them. Dainsleif didn’t know what to do. He stood, arms at his sides, waiting for anything–a reprimand, a compliment, a dismissal. Lord Alberich sighed again, sagging in the doorway. 

“Your feelings don’t override the facts of your position. You understand that, right?”

Dainsleif mulled over his words. There was no point denying it. At last, he conceded, “I’ve been blisteringly aware, my Lord. I’ve not let them.”

“You have a responsibility to Khaenri’ah that goes beyond your job. It is in your bloodline itself.”

“Once again, I’m aware.”

“LIke my teenager,” Lord Alberich muttered. “This is exactly like dealing with Chlothar.”

But the quiet that followed this time was far gentler. It was as if an unspoken accord settled between them. Dainsleif wondered how much the elder man had been through. Did he ever have an ill-advised love? Had he ever been in the same position? 

At long last, Lord Alberich sighed and opened his door. “Get some sleep, Dainsleif. So long as you’re back in your position by the appropriate hours every morning, I won’t go asking.”

The gambit had worked ? Dainsleif nearly stayed where he was out of sheer disbelief. A beat later, and he knew what he was going to do. “Of course, my Lord. Good night.”

“We don’t have meetings tomorrow.”

“Correct.”

“Meaning I won’t be expecting you tomorrow. Take the day.”

“I appreciate that, My Lord. Sleep well.”

Scarcely had they parted ways before Dainsleif turned around and headed right back out. Forget their usual meeting spot. He charged up the road, around the bend, past the ponds, up to Rukkhadevata’s chambers. It was pouring when he arrived at her door. A single light flickered through the stained glass. Good . She was up. He’d had no idea what he’d do if she wasn’t. Truthfully, he wasn’t thinking that far along. Dainsleif knocked over the sound of rain and his own hammering heart. 

A beat. The door cracked. Light spilled out into the rain. There she stood, haloed in green and yellow ambiance, wrapped in a brightly patterned silk robe held in her fist against her chest. Rukkhadevata’s eyes were so, so bright and concerned.

“Dainsleif? Are you okay?”

“Lord Alberich gave me the day off tomorrow,” he panted, suddenly feeling very presumptuous. “He said directly that he won’t expect me for duty. So I–I came back. I just–I wanted to see you again–”

She was smiling. She smiled , and reached for him to pull him inside, and something in his mind broke. Dainsleif forgot that he was soaking wet. He forgot that she wasn’t entirely clad, and that maybe it was presumptuous. His feet moved before he did. 

Sometime later–he checked–Dainsleif discovered they had shut and locked the front door. He honestly had no idea who. His arms encircled her. Her robe slid away; her bare chest stuck against his drenched shirt, like the sun made only brighter by moonlight. He cushioned her head and waist as he shoved her up against a wall. When she gasped, Dainsleif swallowed it in his mouth. That intoxicating hair tumbled free around them. He lavished her bare neck and shoulder and palm with kisses. Thighs went around his waist; he hiked her up, pushing his hips forward to keep her propped there; her chest heaved when he groaned into a breast. Pretty . Pretty, pretty, pretty. She was disheveled and her robe was barely on and she wore nothing underneath, just those eyes that rendered him senseless. 

“I just want to kiss you,” he confessed. “I’m not asking to have sex, but–”

“Stay,” Rukkhadevata whimpered. “I’m also not asking for sex. I’m asking you to stay. Please, stay.”

He’d never had to think about anything less.

—

The sky opened up overnight. Sheets of water fell so fast and thick outside that he couldn’t see even to the roof of the Akademiya below. Rukkhadevata’s room was warm and inviting, and her bed had plenty of room for both of them, so they stayed there all morning. Neither of her assistants were expected in weather like this. Together they prepared breakfast. She made them tea. Dainsleif made eggs (and almost burned them when they were so caught up kissing by the countertops). They lay on the couch, only covered by the thin fabric of her robe and each other, reading. 

Or, at least, she was. He couldn’t focus on that. Dainsleif carded his fingers through her hair and watched the strands slip away. Her little hands folded gently between pages. Only out of respect for her focus did he leave her mostly alone. He wanted to run a finger down the ridge of her nose, dance it over the bow of her mouth. The folds of her waist where she curved against him were a world he wanted to live in. She was smart, and so funny, and so agonizingly beautiful that it hurt . 

“Can I ask you something?” He murmured at long last.

Rukkhadevata immediately marked her page with a finger, looking up at him. “Of course.”

Infatuation wasn’t the word, was it? A painful, aching, desperate, hungry affection settled in his chest. Dainsleif trailed a fingertip over her shoulder. “How long do archons live?”

Rukkhadevata hummed. “Well, I’m not sure. None of us have died of natural causes, and many of us are elemental beings, which live longer. Morax, for instance, is over five thousand years old.”

“Oh. How long do elemental beings live?”

A pause. The rain picked up outside, hammering against the tiled roof. She outright set her book down. “Are you familiar with erosion as a concept of memory?”

“No. I can’t say I am.”

“When beings live for long enough, their memory begins to wear away. You see this commonly in more aged humans. They’ll start simply forgetting things. Well, not even beings like us Archons are immune–not even I, who cares for Irminsul. Eventually, all things are subject to it. And I say all this to say that I don’t exactly know how old my people live. All but myself and a few others died in the Archon War. I’ve lived so long that I no longer fully remember how old some of them were.”

Dainsleif brushed his thumb along her cheek and watched her lean into his touch. “I’m sorry for asking.”

“Don’t be. I dislike talking about the war, but I don’t mind answering questions that involve it. Why were you asking?”

“Forgive me if it’s rude. I was curious how old you were.”

“Oh. That? Hm…” Thoughtful, Rukkhadevata walked her fingertips up his bare chest. “Around four thousand.”

Four thousand. Four thousand . Forget that she was an archon. She’d lived (and fought) through the death of her people as a kind, through a country-shaping war that still carved them apart to this day. She’d seen countless suns rise and fall. Who had remained at her side through her worst days? All at once, Dainsleif felt terribly small in her shadow. “I see.”

“How old are you?”

A beat. Feeling silly, he conceded, “Thirty-eight.”

But Rukkhadevata just nodded, curling into his chest, fixing him with those bright eyes. An grief that was-not-yet-present pressed into his back. In a bid to toss it away, he brought a lock of her hair to his mouth and kissed it. 

Maybe it was foolish to hope she wouldn’t notice. This was the Archon of Wisdom. She was Rukkhadevata, and she was four thousand years older than him, and every part of her was a Divinity that could not be assigned by something as inane as Celestia or a Gnosis. Her hand slid up to cup his cheek. 

(Oh no. Dainsleif looked in those eyes and understood what bothered him. He’d known before he’d Known, but there it was–a sharp, stinging, explosive, simple truth. He loved her. He Loved her, and he was falling for her, and whatever happened past this strange diplomatic visit, she would continue to live in his heart in this moment.)

“What’s on your mind?” She asked sweetly.

And instead of admitting everything, before he could stop himself, Dainsleif asked, “Despite the erosion, do you think you’ll remember me?”

Rukkhadevata hummed. “Your kind live around eighty years, right?”

“Yes.”

“So let’s say I would live to be ten thousand. Even with Irminsul’s influence, erosion will render me incapable of recalling many things. I prefer not to give certain answers where there are none.”

Dainsleif nodded. “Of course.”

“With that being said,” she said, and pressed a kiss to his sternum. “I’m very, very confident that I’ll remember you until I die.”

Exhale. 

Everything became dreamlike–too soft to be tracked, too delicious to forget. Dainsleif was over her on the couch suddenly; her robe was open again. His arm was around her waist, and their mouths were together, and he distantly realized he was crying. She wiped away his tears with her lips and no commentary. Burying his face in her neck, he breathed in the heady scent of oud and jasmine and her body against his. His cologne smelled right on her.

“Let me make love to you,” he whispered directly to her heart. 

Rukkhadevata’s arms tightened around him. 

“Please,” she said. “And I, to you.”

[starocean]

not to be an asshole or a whiner but i have been stressed and need to rant a little to let it out so please feel free to ignore, it’s just work related stuff

(technically they’re all my coworkers, but i don’t wanna use names so i just refer to them like this)

so, coworker got into an accident and she’ll be out for the next four days. no big deal, i can push my vacation back even if i am the tiniest bit sad i can’t take it rn. i won’t even lie about that. but i’m not at mad at her at all. 

but i am upset that my manager didn’t even offer to let me take next weekend off. she just told me we’d talk about me taking vacation time. and that kind of set me off and i spent like a whole hour crying because i’m just. so tired. i work six days a week. in the last three to four months, i have worked multiple 9 to 13 day “weeks” without a single day off. i rarely ever ask for time off, and what time off i do get is usually interrupted by work for some reason or other, even during vacation. i have an autoimmune disorder that makes me physically weaker than i used to be. just a few days ago, i had to stop doing stock because my shoulders were causing me so much pain i was almost nauseated and fighting back tears.

i’m not like the asm, who bitches and bitches and bitches and bitches when she can’t take time off (who, by the way, spent most of last year trying to get out of work and almost got let go for being a liability bc she kept getting injured at work and filing for worker’s comp. which seems unfair but these injuries were all extremely minor, so minor that a doctor wouldn’t even give her more than a day off work bc it wasn’t necessary, and all happened in less than six months. and when you’re the only one getting injured but your coworkers aren’t and none of the customers are reporting anything hazardous, HR starts getting suspicious. they told her they were going to start investigating her if she reported another injury too soon, and guess what? she stops getting hurt. amazing. she only wanted the worker’s comp bc it would get her more time off work while giving her a paycheck, but that’s not the point. 

and she also had the fuckin’ audacity to lie about my performance to the sm, and yes i am still upset about that bc i’ve actually done way more than the asm has and the sm’s even said so herself, like fuck the asm for real i cannot stand her) 

she’s gotten mad at me before for requesting vacation time before she puts her request in, and even angry at me for getting the rare satuday off bc she thinks she’s the only one who deserves a saturday off, apparently. i don’t get weekend days off much. like 99% of my off-days are during the week. she also acts like she’s the only one to work 9 to 13 days in a row without time off, and she hates being contracted on all of the above. i’ve had to show her our schedules before and go back month by month showing her what days she worked and had off compared to what i did. as you can guess, she was not happy about the physical proof being put in front of her lmao.

(and let me get this off my chest real quick because this one really fuckin pissed me off. this fuckin cunt tried to get me to come in on a day off that i specifically requested and was granted to be able to take care of my mother after her surgery. one of the newbies quit, and she sends me a text saying, “so-and-so quit, i need you come in and work tonight.” and of course i told her sorry ass no, that i had to be there for my mother. not sorry at all, my family and their health takes priority over work, especially since that was scheduled time off approved by the sm. the fucking disregard you have to demand i come in despite knowing i’m watching over my mother’s health. cover the damn shift yourself, asshole.)

the only time i have ever spoken up about not having certain days off is when i’d been given a saturday off and the sm tried to take it from me without even attempting to communicate with me about it. and then she tried to guilt trip me for that by saying she would have to pull a double, and i had to hold myself back from saying something snarky about how it’s literally her job, as per corporate policy, to fill in for an employee who cannot make their scheduled shift if no other employee can cover it. i was also miffed she didn’t even bother asking if i was okay with that. like, she didn’t say shit to me about it. no text message, no phone call, nothing from any other employee. nada. she got the next day off anyways, so idk why she was bitching. maaayybee she should have had the courtesy to, oh i dunno, ask me if i could cover? but she didn’t, so no i don’t feel bad about her pulling that double shift. ANYWAYS, not the point. i mean, sort of.

anyways, kind of tying back into the first part: coworker got hurt, and i volunteered to coworker directly that if she needed me to give up my vacation to cover her shifts, i would. we don’t always get along, but we definitely get along better than the asm and I do. maybe this is petty, atp i don’t really care, but the asm thanked me for volunteering. and i had to fight not to tell her to fuck off, that i wasn’t doing it for her, i was doing it for my coworker. it was the right thing to do, and if coworker had wanted to, she could’ve called it a favor for switching days with me once when i’d gotten too sick to attend work a few months ago. and i knew damn well that the asm wouldn’t give up any of her time off to fill in, bc she’d outright rejected mine and other coworkers’ requests for us to switch shifts when we’d been too sick or hurt to come in, and has often refused to cover shifts for employees who quit. obvious pattern of behavior there.

basically i’m just, like. bummed out. and burned out. i have dedicated so much time to this job with nothing to show. a shitty wage that i can’t even get a raise on bc i’ve apparently “hit the cap” for my position (bunch of fucking bullshit honestly), and my physical and mental health deteriorating by the minute. (which, i know that seems stupid to say after having a possible opportunity to get a different job, but all the research i put into that one (which i should’ve done first. hindsight is 20/20) showed it wouldn’t be much better than my current job. who knows. if i get desperate enough, i may just try my shot with them again.) and little time off. 

i just want decent time off. to just sit at home and relax, and not be bothered by something work related unless it’s an emergency. 

i’ll delete this later