#this place is so awful I want to put it under a microscope so so so bad

[tovaicas]

obsessed with the hints that ishgardians’ sense of self-worth is tied to their sense of societal ‘usefulness’ btw

[downwiththemutantnjnjaturtles]

Raphael's First Love—A Talk With Splinter

part of the First Love Talk miniseries!

sfw 💫 word count: 1.2k

The old metronome in the corner of the dojo ticked on incessantly as Raphael sat in indignant silence with Master Splinter. After four outbursts, a fight with Leonardo, and days of distance, Splinter had put his foot down and called his son in for a talk about his behavior. Beneath his stern exterior, Splinter was concerned.

"Raphael, explain yourself," Splinter demanded with a calm voice, treading a thin line with his angriest son's temper. Not out of fear—Splinter could and would easily put the giant back in his place even as an old rat. That was no issue. "What has gotten into you?"

Weeks of this crap, that's what, thought Raph bitterly. Weeks of feeling sick to his stomach every time she was around, trying to put up a good front and getting embarrassed by himself or his brothers; he felt stupid. Weak. Utterly at her mercy, and she didn't even know. Good. I don't want her to. Splinter gave him a skeptical eye. He shifted his position multiple times, uncomfortable and trying to look casual. Grunted dismissively. But he knew his father was not going to take that for an answer. He let out a scoff, dodging eye contact, "Things gettin' under my shell like usual."

"But not like usual, because you are worse-off than usual," observed Splinter.

His mental health was actively declining the more he deliberated on the pang in his heart he felt when he thought about her. It made his guts twist to think about why he was so angry, why he was even afraid of her, deep down. The last thing he ever wanted to admit to himself, let alone Splinter, was that he cared what she thought. A lot.

Too much.

All of his brothers seemed so confident, and yet he was self-conscious. Why? Why do I gotta be like this?!

Raph shrugged. "You know me, master. Comes with the whole package, whether all of you like it or not." He was already moody, prone to rapidly-changing emotions. That was never a guess, it was a given. "Look, I'll do us a favor and just end this convo now—I ain't in a bad way. And Leo needs to stay in his lane comin' to you over a little fight." He started to get up, leave the terrible silence of the training room and that god awful ticking metronome. Splinter jabbed his cane into his plastron, knocking him back, and then brought it down hard on his foot. Raph yelped and stumbled down, quickly reassuring his seated position.

"Enough!" Splinter barked. "Sit, Raphael."

Splinter had his full attention, now. The top of his foot ached dully.

Raph was seething on the inside. On the outside, he slumped over his knee, hiding his face behind his thick forearm.

This was all her fault. If she hadn't fallen—literally crashed—into their lives, he would be fine. There would be no question about what to do or what he was feeling. It was always them and the shadows—no people, no complications. He always knew that would never be accepted despite craving it with every ounce of his being. Why change that? Why suddenly bring more emotions into the mix? Before her, it was all straightforward. Now, he worried if he was too brutish, too much of a freak, if his normal habits weren't so "normal". He didn't want to feel like he was under one of Donnie's microscopes, with her eye looking through the lens.

Splinter furrowed his gray brow at him, resting his hands on his cane. "This is about your self esteem, is it not?" he questioned carefully. Prying.

"You couldn't know anything about it!" Raph shouted back. He swung his hand as he spoke. "I'm a six-foot turtle, there's no changing it! No changing me!"

Sighing a light breath, Splinter closed his eyes. This was going to be the challenge for the day. No day was without its challenges. He recentered his thoughts, looking for a different angle. He wanted to speak his son's language.

"Correct, there is no changing you."

Raph stuttered on his response as his face fell almost imperceptibly, but Splinter knew every minute expression of his kids.

If she knows, I'm done for. Raphael's mind was swirling and his thoughts were reaching dead-ends left and right. There was no changing. No hope? He couldn't tell. He'd given up before he'd even tried. Because like his weapon, he was defensive, and did everything possible to protect what? Himself. His big, soft heart in there that needed some serious attention. The thought of telling her made him want to hurl. But like a moth to a flame, he kept coming right back to her, torturing himself with "what-if's" and doubts he had all the while.

"What do you want me to say, Splinter?" Raph spat with a low voice.

"I want you to be honest with yourself," Splinter replied.

Raph poked the tip of his sai into the mat before him, digging it into the material. "Okay, I'll bite," he said, "what do you think I'm lyin' about? Huh?"

He already knew the answer to that. It was everything; he rejected the shyness he felt inexplicably when she was around. He felt dirty next to her, or if he accidentally touched her, it was an ordeal. Because he was a mutant and she was a human. Out of all of her pick of people, he never could have been at the top of her list. He doubted he even made the list as an option.

Knowing Raphael was lying then, too, Splinter simply lifted his chin at him, and waited for the real answer.

The silence was getting to be too much for him. He jammed his sai into the mat, stabbing through it. But in his face was sadness, not anger. He finally admitted, "I just want to be accepted. Even just by her." Fiddling with his sai, he averted his eyes to stare at something random next to him, adding quietly, a little bashfully: "Aaaaaand sometimes I think Leo has a…better shot than me. That's why we were fightin'. I went nuts because he was gettin' along with her and it made me feel some stuff I don't want to feel."

There it was, thought Splinter, bingo. "Well, you are certainly not the first young man to make a fool of yourself over a girl."

"Master, I don't even know what to do with myself. How am I ever gonna know what to do with her?"

"The first step would be to stop ruining my mat," Splinter said as he bonked his son's head with the end of his cane, irked that he was creating a hole in it with his sai. Raph quickly tucked his weapon away. He muttered an apology. Splinter cleared his throat before continuing. "The second step would be for you to face your fears, Raphael. Accept them, conquer them. You are as you are—what humanity thinks of you is not your concern. You know who you are. I would like to think that [y/n] does as well."

Raph shifted, uncomfortable. "Yeah, I don't think she does. I don't really…"

She was all too kind, beautiful, and smart; a deadly, terrifying combination, in his predicament. He'd been plagued with dreams of being with her night after night. Not worrying about a single thing until the moment he woke up—he was stressing every morning. His anxieties always seemed to curse him cropping up in his dreams; not even in sleep could he escape her sphere of influence.

Placing a gentle hand on Raphael's shoulder, Splinter looked down at him, "Then, you show her who you really are. Raphael."

[dear-ao3]

Question for the mods....

HOW IN THE FUCK DID YOU MEET???

Like what???

How??

I am so god damn curious about you two. I wanna study yall under a microscope lol

Also ngl kinda envious of how close of friends you two seem to be. (Being an introverted shy af mofo sucks lmao)

I would actually probably read a whole ass book or watch a sitcom or something of the seemingly ever present weird-ass shit that seems to happen on a day-by-day basis.

/gen /lh /nf /pos

2018 newsies fandom. we weren't overly close but we bonded over race and albert a little and then katya dropped off the face of the earth for about a year.

during 2020 lockdown we both independently got into the witcher fandom and somehow ran into eachother again and had the fingers pointing OH MY GOD Y O U !!! moment in our dms. we bonded over hating jaskier. during this time we realized we were both dancers and katya was looking at dance colleges, i was already in college for dance and since it was lockdown and we couldn't go anywhere i told katya my experience auditioning at places to give him a good idea of places. and then i broke every internet safety rule known to man and said hey what if you had applied to my college but didnt know it?? and then one thing led to another and i dished out all the tea on my school. (only After that did we face reveal and give eachother our names lol) and then katya applied. mostly as a joke. until it wasnt a joke because that school gave katya a shit load of money and actually had stuff katya wanted to do. katya ended up coming to one of my zoom ballet classes and it took everything we had to not loose our shit on camera.

during this time we mostly kept eachother sane in lockdown writing witcher fanfic, and sending eachother awful thirst traps on instagram to pitbull music. one of our awful bits was using the dilf filter to make bad frat boy edits.

come august of 2021 we both moved into college. the same college. in the same building. it was wild. i pinched myself several times in shock. we went on a walk around campus with some worms on strings and were like what the hell how did we get here.

we continued to hang out and did weird insane things together. we took a class on the french revolution together where i had to put up with katya and fennec awkwardly flirting (read: making finger guns at eachother).

and then, since i was 2 years older, i was graduating and was going to stay in the area for a job and was like hey. what if we got an apartment together? and then we did. several adults agreed to this. idk why they let us. but now we live together in a real life apartment and we haven't even killed eachother yet. neither of our parents know that we met online. each of them have a different fake story as to how we know eachother and we really just hope they are never in the same room long enough to ask eachother about it. but its insane. 12/10 would recommend.

katya wanted me to include old tumblr screenshots of us talking, heres what i found from circa 2020:

we've always been like this lol

and heres some ancient greatest hits from instagram, i dont have context and trust me you dont want it:

every now and then the two of us look at eachother and go. how the fuck did we end up here??? (we have no idea)

[savorypink]

king and queen seat

you, alex, and some papers.

contains smut. + tbhc!au.

"What do you think?"

It's breathtaking. You marvel at your home planet's brilliance as you gaze from the large office window. The vast darkness of outer space leaves you hollow, but tonight, it aids in the mesmerising showcase before you. The orb is luminous in the dead, black sky, adorned with deep ocean blues and swirling clouds of white.

Patches of earthy greens and browns emerge, though not in great detail. You can almost pinpoint each continent. Watching from your seat, you feel microscopic, too puny and weak to handle it all.

As Alex settles beside you, the couch cushion sinks under his weight. Only when his large, icy hand envelopes your clammy palm are you thinking: Who in the hell puts a casino up here? You scramble through the file cabinet of your brain to muster something—anything worthwhile to say — but when your mouth opens, nothing emits. Alex adores it.

"Any adjective will do." He says, his warm lips brushing your knuckles in a gentle kiss. Your heart goes into overdrive, unsure if it's from Alex's touch or from realising how silly you must look.

"Wow." Your voice is but a whisper, but awe blankets every letter.

"Not an adjective." He sets your limp hand on your lap before returning to his desk. "I'll accept it, though."

Your gaze fixates on him as he rolls the sleeves of his button-down, hauling you deeper into a lovesick trance. Under the warm ceiling lights, the gold band on his finger flashes in the light as he does so, causing you to fidget with your own. A certain feeling crawls up your spine, mirroring the same puny insignificance you felt observing the Earth. Your man belongs here; you don't.

In the past, he might have shown initial protest, and leaving you on Earth certainly didn't help ease his guilt. However, you never doubted his ability to run this place. No one else had the capacity for care and detail as Alex did. From the green nylon carpeting to the flashing neon lights of the casino below, he had everything and then some.

Was it too ambitious? It'd be dumb to say otherwise. However, you can only see one man behind the desk running it all. And he wants you in the passenger seat? You should be happy, yet you wish for the couch cushions to swallow you whole.

You startle when a stack of documents slams onto the desk and again when you hear the thud of the desk drawer closing. From the drawer, Alex retrieves a pen adorned with a cute rubber charm of an astronaut at the top. A pair of readers also emerges from the drawer, which he perches on the tip of his Romanesque nose. Yes, he's your husband, but you're here solely on business. What's with the teenage swooning?

In silence, you watch as he reviews the documents. He's already pre-signed them, and the dotted lines await your signature, but you know how thorough he likes to be. The pen looks like a plaything in his giant fist. The veins in his wrist pulse as he clicks the pen, obnoxiously echoing off the office walls. For a moment, you're convinced the clicking is in perfect synch with your frantic heart despite the inattention of the action.

When the clicking ceases, your heart does, too, only to start again once he brings the clicker between his teeth, his lips brushing the astronaut charm. You're realising how uncomfortable your pencil skirt and button-up are as you sweat like a sinner doused in holy water. Are you seriously jealous of a pen?

"Baby." The air loses its stillness when his velvety voice fills the silence, causing you to sit upright. "What are you thinking about?"

Where do you begin? This co-manager role is a lot of responsibility, and I'm terrified. Do I want to do this? Why do you look so sexy when reading stuff? We should kiss. Cute pen, by the way. None of these thoughts leave your mind. Instead, the sour tang of word vomit tumbles out.

"You look good in that chair." It comes out more gravelly than you wish, and Alex notices it. The smirk adorning his handsome features says more than enough.

"Our chair now." He leans further into the velour chair, playfully twisting until he gets up. "Unless you don't want it. I know my girl likes to decorate." He slides the papers in your direction, placing the pen beside them.

"She does. It's very...you."

The office could be mistaken as a set for Mad Men. The scent of the mahogany walls and a newly vacuumed carpet float through the air. Though you're worried your sweat may have soiled it, the orange couch under you is intact, comfortable and plush, with no signs of sinking. You also notice this in the two spare chairs, the same burnt orange colour as the couch. Men in suits should be scaling the walls to be here. Yet, the office feels uninhabited; the only lingering animal prowling is Alex.

It is muted and lonely. It feels just like space. It feels like Alex.

"Eh," he shrugs. "It could use some plants. Gonna need your name on these papers, little lady."

Temporarily, you don't rise from your seat. Your nervous system isn't sending the neurons to your legs. You're realising this isn't some fawn-in-headlights moment. You're aware of your surroundings and what you're here to do. Yet, the painful churning of your guts and the weight of this—what you're sacrificing your life on Earth for—is weighing twice as heavy. These aren't first-day jitters. This is a warning.

Ultimately, your legs take you to the desk, but you're shouting at your body to stop shaking. It's only you, Alex, and some papers. It's almost like your wedding day.

You can pick up the pen without spasm, and Alex smiles when you do. Before your eyes meet the papers, you spot your wedding photo in a brown frame on the desk. The picture shows signs of wear and tear, with some fraying around the edges. The imperfections stem from the photo being in his wallet for years, but the flaws increase its charm. From the sepia colouring to you and Alex's stiff posture, the picture looks antique and fragile, your poses complementing the retro feel. Regardless, you hold your bouquet of dried peonies and foliage, beaming ear to ear with Alex behind you. You recall his offer to decorate, and while there are some things you'd like to rearrange, that photo isn't one of them. Your poses? You would change in a heartbeat.

To kill time, you skim the papers as slowly as you can. Alex simplified all the legal jargon for you beforehand, but you feel like a child picking up their first book. The most straightforward words look like gibberish, and your head is reeling as it attempts to comprehend everything. Your skull feels as if two large hands are squeezing your temples, the pain throbbing even harder when you reach the dotted line awaiting your name.

With your mind muddled and the room doing 360s, you don't even register Alex has moved behind you, his lips ghosting over your ringing ear.

"Is everything alright?"

His hushed whisper is soothing, grounding even. You can feel the carpet under your heels again. The dotted line is no longer a blur, and your head is no longer doing pirouettes. The air stirs again, and the burning in your lungs drops a few temperatures. You can breathe once more.

"Yes," you say. You click the pen and scribble your name. Although it looks like chicken scratch, Alex is familiar enough with your penmanship to deem it acceptable. He knows how you write when in a hurry, not when you're trying to make him happy.

Alex's arms firmly close around you, squeezing air out of you with mere strength. Elated isn't a strong enough word to define his happiness. It overflows in the scattered kisses he plants all over your reddening face, and you can feel him even trying to pick you up for a moment. You bask in the affection as if you hadn't signed your life away moments ago. You even giggle as his beard tickles and scratches your face.

The tenderness spilling from him is the only thing that feels normal. It's almost possible to forget you're here, on a floating rock in the middle of celestial nowhere. But the gleaming Earth outside the office window will always remind you of your sealed fate.

You're stuck here.

His lips meeting your mouth don't evoke the same enthusiasm from you. Hesitantly, you kiss back, imitating the lip movements of a kid kissed on the playground. Your nerves go unnoticed by your husband, likely mistaking your hesitance for teasing. His hands are still frigid, unyielding in temperature despite caressing your burning face. As the kiss deepens, you allow your previous doubts to dissipate, though Alex's tongue has done it for you. His grasp on your skull is tight, headache-inducing, but your relief is in his restlessness.

You can't blame him for wanting to tear you apart, his tongue roaming your mouth as if you were a lifeline. You've been gone for too long. Saying that he missed you would only scratch the surface. When he pulls away, both of you are breathless, your lungs clinging to the surrounding air.

"We should celebrate."

A lopsided grin adorns his features, making you want to kiss him all over again. Before Alex heads over to the bar cart near his desk, he leans in to give you one more peck on the lips. The bar is complete with coffee, teas and cookies you sent to him from home. The only alcohol is a small champagne bottle, which he returns to the desk. After pulling a corkscrew from the drawer, Alex releases the cork with a loud pop. The sound makes your heart misstep, but you can't contain your giggles, as it all happens in a rather lacklustre fashion: no foam, no clapping, no cheering. It's a surprise party thrown for the wrong person.

Alex hands you a paper cup filled halfway with champagne. As you take the cup, your hesitation mirrors the one in your kiss. You gaze at the cup, watching the bubbles ascend and burst. When he's back in front of you, you keep your eyes on the cup. You don't waver, even as you feel his eyes boring into you.

"What are you thinking about?" He asks. "And be honest this time."

The revelation doesn't shock you. It's somewhat reassuring that he caught up on your lie. The part where you have to tell him is what tugs at your heartstrings. Your eyes remain on the cup as if your answer is in the bubbles. Telling him should be a cakewalk; say how you feel. It's not like you're trying to reverse a major decision or anything!

You let your eyes leave the cup, meeting Alex's concerned expression; you're looking at a kicked, beat puppy, and the sight is nauseating. Perching on the desk, you sigh, watching your trembling legs sway beneath you.

"I know you can do this. And you do it well," you state. "I'm just not sure if I can do it. At all."

The light against your feet goes dark as Alex's shadow eclipses your form. For a moment, you're freezing as his shadow looms over you. You're fighting with your body to stop shivering, the weight of his shadow heavy and biting; it's almost unnerving. Soon enough, you find warmth as Alex's hand cups your cheek. The tenderness washes over you like a tidal wave; it's what you've yearned for this whole time. This should feel like something other than a business meeting. This is you and your husband.

"I don't need you to be perfect," he begins. "I need you to be here."

You swallow a lump large enough to make you choke, fixing your unsteady eyes on his warm gaze. "Is that enough?"

"More than enough. We've always been a team. Now, we're a team on the moon."

You chuckle, leaning your head into his calloused palm. "In a casino. On the moon."

"Right. Treat like we're at home. You cook, I do the dishes. I wash, you fold. It's all 50/50." He leans in and lowers your head, planting a tender kiss on your scalp. "You'll never do it alone. I promise. You can say your husband loves you to the moon if it's any consolation. And it'll be true."

A boulder is gone from your shoulders. It's like you're breathing for the first time, feeling the knot in your chest finally come undone. Your doubts will continue to linger; that won't change. The bittersweet aftertaste lies in the comfort of Alex being there to remove those hurdles for you. And he'll continue to do it—always—just as he promised you.

Sighing, you rest your head against his chest, focusing on the steady beat of his heart. "One hell of a celebration, huh?" You snort, looking at your cup. "We didn't even make a toast."

Alex withdraws from you, lifting the paper cup halfway. "What shall we toast to?"

"I dunno." You shrug, mirroring his movements albeit meekly. "Teamwork?"

With a small smile, he taps his cup against yours. "To teamwork."

Before taking a sip, Alex raises the cup once more. "And to Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino's First Lady."

First Lady, it's difficult for the title not to make you smile. As you sip your champagne, a comforting chill travels down your spine at the fizziness. You glide your tongue along your lips to catch the hints of melon, an action that feels like a blissful eternity in Alex's mind. His sharp eyes wander from your champagne-coated lips down to the tan pencil skirt you wore to match his tan trousers.

With ease, the stretchy fabric lifts and sculpts the curve of your butt, accentuating your hips and supple thighs. The skirt's ability to cling to you is equally alluring and irritating, moulding your body into perfect form and embracing you better than he could. It's not fair; it should be him instead.

Alex downs the last of his champagne in a swift swig, pivoting his aching lower half away from you. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches you clam up again, your eyes vacant and your hands pleading to shake. Your stress is infectious in the worst way possible, suffocating the office with unbearable weight, making his heart fall into his stomach.

Alex clears his throat before speaking, likely masking the shakiness threatening to slip out. "Can I do anything to make you more...comfortable?" He asks. "As far as your new position's concerned, I mean."

"Kiss me again."

You say it without delay. It's the most confidence you've had today. Alex quickly grants your wish, almost tripping over his feet to kiss you again. This kiss holds more ferocity than the one before. It's painful when your lips meet, the alcohol burning, teeth colliding. Your tongues are lacking in grace, twisting and fumbling over each other, rough and greedy. When you moan, he calls back to you with ten times the intensity, his groans deep, almost primal.

Both of you are equally breathless, like the first kiss, panting as you two separate. With your foreheads against each other, you realise nothing needs to be said between you. Besides a question from Alex, you two are pure telepathy. But sometimes, Alex likes to hear it from your mouth.

"What do you want to do?"

Through your quivering lip, you utter the command. "Sit."

The desk beneath you rumbles as Alex drops to his knees. He wastes no time from there, his hands mirroring the same insatiable hunger as his tongue. To your dismay but with delight, his impatient hands form tears and holes in your stockings. Your gooseflesh expands as your bare skin becomes exposed, your body tingling when his hands graze you, sending delightful shockwaves to your core.

Alex's eyes lock with yours, holding a gaze that swirls your heart and head. The fabric of your skirt wrinkles as his hold on the hem tightens; he's beyond eager to please you. He's a chess piece awaiting your skilful hand—a jester desperate for the royal's approval.

You give a simple nod, and to Alex, you've moved the piece that will lead you to victory. He hikes your skirt up to your stomach, releasing a swarm of butterflies with his movements. Alex tears through the remaining material of your stockings to access your drenched panties, his breathing ragged and hot against your flush skin. He yanks the flimsy fabric to the side and glides his fingers along your leaking entrance. The touch may be minimal, but the impact is immense; you clutch the edge of the desk tightly, unable to hold back a moan as his fingers glide into you.

"Deeper," you command. Alex's fingers delve even further into your core. His knuckles flex as your walls shut around the digits, his teeth clenched in a tight hiss. Your thigh quakes when you feel it, the frigid metal of his wedding band sliding past your warm walls. It's as deep as he can get, but your ache refuses to subside. Using your hips, you buck to motion for Alex to take the wheel or do anything. Your walls morph into quicksand around his fingers, rendering them immobile as his fingertips strike the area of your rioting ache.

His eyes, devoid of focus, shift back and forth between your quivering, moaning form and the fingers plunged within you. Your arousal dribbles clear and hot on the mahogany desk, and it's pretty—fuck, it drives him mad, but solely for the time being. He's thankful you can't hear the annoyed 'tch' he lets out.

Below your stomach, the heat is scorching as his fingers work you further, poking and prodding your bits as your vision turns cloudy white. A tender kiss on your knee jerks your head downward, and your eyes meet your husband's once more. There's a glimmer in both of your gazes, ample in heart-stopping warmth; it's unshakable, too loud to ignore. The sight of you is ghastly, sweat clinging to your body like a second skin, and your makeup melting off your face. You're aware of it all, but it doesn't matter to Alex, and it never will. He'll look at you all the same; he'll hang you in the Louvre while holding the same gaze that put a ring on your finger. You'll always be perfect in his eyes.

The sounds bouncing against the office walls assault your ears, echoing your moans and those wet, squelching noises. Alex is inaudible through it all, but you can decipher his words by studying the curves of his lips.

"Close?" Alex asks.

Your body betrays you before you can answer, moaning instead of a simple "yes", yet you're able to nod your head. His fingers curl as they thump against your core once more, the bricks you've stacked steadily beginning to crumble. Alex is saying something else, and you are pretty familiar with it. You recognise the curving of his lips. He utters the words–your favourite words.

"I love you."

You don't say it back. Instead, you allow yourself to come undone on his fingers, your walls collapsing around the digits as you cry out to him. Your vision is a lovely cloudy white when you spasm. Through your haze, you forget entirely about the remaining liquid in your cup, accidentally pouring it on the documents that still lack your signature.

As the clouds roll out, you can hear Alex cooing you back to reality as he utters sweet nothings against your skin, rubbing away the never-ending gooseflesh. He slides his fingers out of you with fragility, as if you'll crack again at the slightest touch. 

You will.

Alex stands up with a sigh, observing the mess formed on the desk. The champagne seeps into the documents, causing the ink to bleed and smear your signatures. When you look like this, it's hard to let his anger rear its horrid head. He knows better than to ruin your bliss, to rip you out of your cosy headspace, but he's your boss now. His words are merely a slap on the wrist.

"First Lady, you've ruined my desk."

You gulp as you try to regain your breath, your chest burning hot as you pant. "Our desk."

[lottiecrabie]

you know how lorde brought jack out at one of her shows and he played the guitar while she sang and they were very touchy feely and just gazing at each other the entire time? imagine a blurb like that on gto readers tour when her and matty are just friends now but there is still definitely underlying tension the entire time

i Know where this blurb idea came from I see you🫵

the screams rain over you, a torrential wave of love that you can’t help grinning at. you sit there, legs hanging off the stage, gripping your mic in silent awe. the world ripples in front of you, bodies of people — real, tangible, knowledgeable of your lyrics better than you sometimes — face you. the room seems larger, like entire cities could fit between these walls, like everyone you’ve ever known could be smiling back at you.

you use the energy like fuel. pretend your heart isn’t racing up your throat as you tilt up the mic. ‘i have a surprise for you guys,’ you say, teasing, confessional. another wave of screams, delighted in just being special. you laugh. ‘there’s a really special person here tonight. the producer of this album, my dear friend—‘ you barely need to let the name out, high-pitched cries already drowning it out, but still; ‘matty healy!’

he comes from backstage and he cracks the world open. stagelight transforms in soft sun rays, shining over your head until sweat pearls your forehead. strawberry ice cream lingers on your tongue. the faint smell of cigarette comes through, burning in the heat. he’s summer, even in the thick of this december month. you have to blink away, blind.

there’s a part of you way that will always be in august, and it throbs when he’s around you.

matty sits down beside you, offered a guitar by some worker. he waves to the crowd, working his charm easily. you have no sun to blame this flush on. you hope the stage makeup hides it, stop yourself from pressing the cold microphone to your cheeks and draw attention to it.

‘hello,’ you say. ‘not too tired?’

‘never,’ he answers, though it’s lost to the ears of the crowd, micless that he is.

‘i warmed the crowd up for you.’

‘you’re—‘ you aim the mic his way, graciously allowing the public into this moment, ‘—too sweet.’ you want to laugh. your chest tightens, in the habitual ways it still hasn’t learned not to.

something in you is angry that he’d dare say it here, in front of anyone, in front of everyone. not because he’s sharing anything personal, anything momental; because he’s not. to him, too sweet is any other phrase, and you’re left reeling from the slap he doesn’t know he gave.

‘we made pygmalion two summers ago, in this very city,’ you say conversationally, addressing the crowd. ‘i lived here for four months and so, forever, london will be the intrinsic pygmalion city. i don’t think i can walk any street without being washed with it.’

‘i live here and there’s still places i can’t visit without being reminded of pygmalion,’ matty says in the cadence of a joke. you chuckle for him, ever gracious.

‘there’s still wines i can’t drink,’ you attempt to volley back, but it starts feeling a little too raw, a little too real. you get the uncomfortable impression of being under a microscope, and you clutch the microphone with the need to swallow it all back.

matty steals the mic from your hands, eyes wrinkling with mirth. ‘this one used to say she didn’t like red wine.’

you roll your eyes, taking it back. ‘yes, well, i just—‘

again, matty’s fingers brush yours, angling the mic back to him. ‘—never drank the correct sort, yes, i told you so.’

‘stop taking my mic!’ you laugh, giving a look to the public as you gesture to him. ‘it’s a wonder we finished any song with all of this.’ you sit up straighter, attempting to put the show back on track. ‘and yet we did. you might know this one, it’s called galatea.’

again, a new wave of excited screams wash you. galatea is always a highlight of the night. the broken lyrics that come back to you, sung and cried, tears filling the eyes of the first row until you have to look away. this time, you don’t even attempt to watch them, instead turning to face matty, crossed-legged.

his fingers strum the chords familiarly; you croon the first words. you get projected on a sofa, red lights drenching the two of you, the stars shining just for you. he’s so known you might choke up. you have moved on, you promise yourself you have, but what can you do with all the knowledge you gain of someone? where do the memories go when you’ve stopped needing to play them back every night just to fall asleep. they can’t cease to exist, yet they can’t fit in the palms of your hands either.

his eyebrows tilt as he concentrates, bobbing his head. a curl strikes his forehead and you stop yourself from reaching up and brushing it away. parts of you wake up, called to attention. the need to wish and hope and yearn; to exist in the possible, nearly-not but just enough that it’s exquisitely painful. you think of new lyrics, you hate yourself for it.

the chorus cries out of you. you scoot closer, sing it to him. you’re back in a booth, angry eyes pinning him down vengefully. matty glances up and there must be something in you that has quietened, that has folded over and surrendered. he doesn’t look away from your stare. he doesn’t get overwhelmed with the weight of it.

your hand flies to his knee, as if to make sure he’s real. he is; flesh and muscle and that stubborn heart of his, beating somewhere far away from you.

for all the sun he represents, he doesn’t burn anymore. it’s a soft sting, like another memory buzzing in you. your fingers retreat. mournfully, you sing the next lyric.

you whisper the last words out, smiling faintly. his fingers halt. he stops suddenly; he’s there and then he’s not, per usual. the cries roar back to you. for all the worlds that exist in this very room, they always seem to cease when he’s beside you. a summery cocoon you craft out of nothings, one that’s off somewhere in a london apartment.

you turn back to the crowd, remind yourself of everything that is real too. ‘thank you,’ you whisper to them, a hand to your chest, vaguely bowing. thank you for being there when the ground doesn’t seem to hold you up anymore. you look at him. and then, a grin, waving an arm to him. ‘matty healy, everyone!’

[bjornswoman]

My prisoner

Requested by none.

Author's note: Hello! I've been away for a while and I'm sorry about it. I wanted to come back with a fic about Bjorn, but this one was something that I was thinking for a while and I decided that this one will come out first. I want to believe that vikings fandom are still active. Anyway, till next time have fun and take care.

Pairing: Modern!Hvitserk x Reader.

Genre: Modern!au, drama, romance, fluff.

Summary: Your ex boyfriend breaks free from prison.

Warnings: Drama, mentions of prison break, mentions of death.

Life had never been easy for you.

When you thought that things started getting better, something really bad happened and you were back to zero.

Life had shown you its worst face so far.

You had lost your parents at young age. You were struggling all alone, dealing with two awful jobs and an ex that was more pain in the ass than all the bills you had to pay at the end of each month.

Your life became much more difficult when you decided to get involved with the most infamous family of the city — the Lothbroks. These men — the sons of Ragnar Lothbrok, a mobster — they run a dangerous gang the one their father had founded. You couldn't even want to think about all the illegal stuff they were doing and the police was after them.

The bad thing in that was that the police had you under their microscope, as well, because you were Hvitserk Lothbrok's girlfriend — ex girlfriend.

And things became even worse than before when they put him in jail, after your break-up, and he decided with the help of his family to break free.

The police was following each movement of yours. They were tracking your phone number, listening to all your phone calls, expecting to learn about your ex. They had even someone outside your apartment to watch you over.

You told them over and over again that you had nothing to do with that filthy man anymore, but they wouldn't believe in you.

You let a long breath leave your lungs as you were cleaning the bar counter.

"What is it again?" One of your coworkers asked. Well, Hope was more than a coworker, she was your friend.

The only one you could talk to and not raise any suspicions. You were friends with Torvi — the wife of Ubbe Lothbrok — and Gunnhild — the wife of Bjorn Lothbrok — but you couldn't see them, it was too risky to get in touch with any member of the family. Of course, the police kept a close eye on them, but still you couldn't have any kind of communication with any of the family.

"It's the usual problem with... him." You said as you were placing the clean glasses on their place behind the counter.

"The police is following me around like I'm some kind of a bloody criminal because I made the mistake to start a relationship with a mobster." You spoke angrily and threw the towel on the counter. You were so angry, so frustrated with all this mess. Your hands run through your hair.

"I know that this is difficult for you, but it is going to end, sweetheart. It will end when they get this son of a bitch back where he belongs — in prison." She said wih an encouraging smile on her face and her hand rubbed your back friendly.

Only those words weren't encouraging for you. Deep in your heart you didn't want him to get caught and sent back inside there again. It hurt you to think that the man you loved were inside a called cell.

It was true that he wasn't the best guy in the world, not even close to that. Hvitserk had done some bad things that he wasn't proud of and he had regretted of doing. He had a good heart and wanted to be better.

You forced something that was the resemblance of a smile on your face and followed her to the kitchen to get the orders and walk them to the costumers.

"Did he try to contact you after you know?" Hope asked you suddenly and you nodded your head as an answer — no he didn't and it quite hurt you. But you had broken up before he got in.

"At least, he didn't dare to after all he did."

You frowned when you heard the tone of her voice. Hvitserk had never hurt you. In fact, the reason he broke up with you was because he didn't want to involve you in his mess, in the shit he was deep into, but it was late for that.

"He didn't harm me." You muttered when you got back with an epty tray in your hands.

Hope rolled her eyes and continued to place the drinks on her tray. When she finished, she turned her eyes on you.

"But he harmed other people. He is a criminal. Prison is where he belongs." Those where her words before she waltzed through the tables with her tray in hands.

Her words were harsh for a man she didn't know at all. Yeah, Hvitserk did awful things, but he wasn't just that. You had seen the good side of his. You had seen the little broken child in him. The one who felt full when you showed him your love and affection. The one who tried to shield your heart even from him.

The rest of your shift went by as usual. There weren't many clients as a typical Wednesday night. But things changed when you got that damned phone call.

It was a couple of times before the closing time when Torvi called. You didn't expect her to, you didn't expect anyone from the family to reach for you. When you saw her name on the screen, you used the back door to get out and answered her call.

"Torvi?" The tone of your trembling voice gave away easily to level of your concern about Hvitserk. Torvi wouldn't call if something bad did not happen. Something had happened. Something that you wouldn't like to hear.

"What happened? You know that it's not safe to speak through the phone." Your body was pressed on the wall next to the door and your hand was clenching the phone.

"Something came up which we don't know whether it stands or not, but I had to inform you because Ubbe said that they are 80% sure that it's true." You felt the despair and sadness in the tone of her voice as well as you could feel the tears forming in your eyes.

Hvitserk — your mind screamed but your tongue didn't. You waited to hear more before you even try to fight back your emotions.

"Tell me for the love of Gods! What happened?" You were almost crying now.

Torvi took a deep breath before her next words.

"They found a body — a body in a really awful state. It's unrecognizable. At the time were are talking they are in a lab waiting for the results of the DNA analysis. But, Ubbe said that they are almost sure that the body belongs to Hvitserk. He didn't contact the brothers after the escape, they thought he was hiding and would eventually come out, but he didn't."

You couldn't hear the most of it. You collapsed on the floor halfway and closed your eyes forcefully in an attempt to fight the waterfalls of tears to fall. Your free hand moved on your face and it touched your forehead.

You stopped hearing. You were crying. He couldn't be dead. Hvitserk couldn't die. Not like this.

"They killed him and threw his body in a ditch in a middle of nowhere. The people who killed him are the same who framed him with this murder he didn't commit." She continued, but you couldn't hear anymore. Your brain couldn't process all these. You couldn't process the fact that Hvitserk was dead.

"Hvitserk..." You muttered his name like it was a prayer between your sobs.

"I know it hurts but you—"

You didn't let her finish. You ended the damned call and let your phone fall from your hands. You hid your face in your palms and let yourself cry and mourn the love of your life — the only person you were able to love this much and loved you back in his own different way.

After some time, you gathered your broken heart and the pieces of your body and got in. You wiped your tears and cleaned your face with some fresh water. You had to stay strong for a couple of times and then you could cry all your wanted.

At the closing, you took out the trash in an attempt to cry to yourself for a bit in the darkness where no one could see your tears for the man you loved the most. You were so sad and shattered that you didn't notice a black figure approaching you.

You only noticed when one of his hands was on your mouth and the pushed you in a dark corner. You eyes opened widely and your heart beat went faster until you saw the face of your captor.

He let you see his face. He took his hood off and got rid of the black scarf which was covering his mouth and nose. When you could finally see him, he freed your mouth and you gasped.

"You!" You whispered out of breath. Your hand run on his features that you missed so much. The last time you could saw him in person was many months ago, almost a month before he got arrested.

"Shh!" His index finger was on your lips.

"Don't shush me! I thought you were fucking dead! Torvi called an—" All your whisper-yelling stopped when his lips fell violently on yours. The very thing he did every time he wanted to get away feom scolding. But this time you weren't going to get mad or stop him, until not as long as you could breathe.

His skilled lips were moving just perfect on yours and the facial hair he had were just perfect. His hands grabbed you by the waist and you placed your own hands around his neck. Your body was pressed on the wall by his own.

This kiss felt like salvation. It was like you were whole again. It felt like you could breathe even if you didn't. You didn't want it to stop, but it had. After all, you two had many things to discuss.

Much to your displeasure, it stopped because of the lack of air to your lungs. His hands left your waist and moved on your face where he caressed your cheeks softly.

But that loving moment didn't last long, before he noticed, your hand collided with his cheek violently and his head turned at the side.

"Was that necessary? Why did you do it?" Hvitserk whisper-yelled. His palm was on his hurting cheek that had your mark on it, along with the mark of your nails.

"You scared me to fucking death with your bloody lies. Plus, you were a total dick to me when I called you in jail." You spoke and gazed at him. You had missed him terribly.

"Hey!" With that Hvitserk grabbed your face between his hands. Your faces were dangerously close for once more. "I told you, you shouldn't have called me there. As for my little lie, it was my only chance to see you." You spoke and left a soft kiss on your forehead.

"And how would that be? The police is out there waiting for a stupid movement of yours — exactly like this one — to get you. They are after me — following every step of mine. You shouldn't be here." You told him and tried to leave him in the darkness. You didn't want him to get caught because of you.

Hvitserk didn't let slip from his hands. His strong grip held there in from of him.

"It's dangerous, Hvitserk." You whispered at him.

Hvitserk smirked and one of his hands placed a strand of hair behind your ear.

"See that was exactly my plan with all this dead body lie. Indeed, there was a body, but not mine — obviously — and we used it to mislead them. They will try to find the body and they won't pay attention to you. At least, not as much as they did." He explained and you smiled.

"Ivar's plan?" You asked all smiling and he smiled back.

"Like you don't know the answer to that."

After that, you stayed there gazing at each other, having only the stars witnessing this moment between you.

"Why did you break my heart?" You asked as your eyes were only on his. You wanted to hear the truth coming out of his mouth.

His green eyes were glowing under the lights of the stars.

"I – I don't deserve you. You are kind and sweet and so angelic and I am the exact opposite. I am so filthy that I'll defile your purity. I've done things that I'm not proud about — bad things."

"Then why are you here now?"

Your question made him think about it himself once more. His eyes were looking only deep inside yours. You could feel his pain when he talked about the stuff he did, you could feel everying through those eyes. It hurt you to think that he felt this way for himself.

"Behind the bars, in that cell, the only thing you can do is thinking. You're thinking about all the right and wrong decisions of your life till the moment you got in — especially the wrong ones keep you up all night. And what kept me up was you. The thought of never seeing you again, never hearing your voice, you laugh, your scolding. I just couldn't live knowing that I hurt you. I love you. My life without you is meaningless."

"Just never push me away again, okay?" You spoke as your hand wiped a couple tears away from your eyes. Hvitserk help you and when there weren't any more tears in your eyes, he caressed your skin softly.

"I love you, you idiot." You muttered and kissed him again. This kiss was so much different from the previous one. It soft and loving.

"The plan is to never let you slip away from me ever again." He spoke as he was caressing your hair.

"And how is that supposed to happen?"

"We will leave together here and now."

You frowned. You weren't expecting him to say something like this. You pushed him back, so you could face him.

"Wait... You want us to leave everything behind — our lives — and run away. This – this is....." You couldn't form a proper sentence. You were to process his proposition.

Kattegat was everything you knew — the place you called home. Everyone you knew was here and by that you meant your friends and some very distant relatives. Apart from your life, his life was in this place. His family, his job.

"(Y/N), there's nothing for us here. If I stay, I'll go to prison and I won't be able to hold you ever again. I will leave at the end of the day, there is no future for me in this city." Both of your hearts were beating fast at the thought that you would never see each other again after this night.

It was true that there was nothing here for you, only these two jobs that you hated. You couldn't know what future had in store for you, but if you let Hvitserk leave alone, you would hate yourself for the rest of your life.

Hvitserk's hand grabbed yours and closed it in both of his palms, but before that his finger gripped your chin and moved your head in such position that you could look at each other.

"The clock is ticking — the time is running fast. You have to give me your answer now. Are you coming with me right now?"

His eyes were begging you to say yes.

His heart was begging you to say yes.

But your mind was the problem. Your mind was hesitating to follow him wherever he was going to take you.

You closed your eyes for a moment. You couldn't choose between your heart and your mind. A whole war had broke inside you.

"(Y/N)?"

At the sound of your name on his lips you opened your eyes.

"I will come wherever you are willing to go. I can't live without you, my love." You told him and hugged him tightly.

Hvitserk wrapped his hand with yours and pulled you close to him.

"Are you sure? If we leave now — together — there's no coming back. We will be both fugitives." He told you smirking.

You chuckled when you heard him.

"That's a risk I'd love to take for you."

With those last words Hvitserk and you run away from the police and the city forever.

[pinkpinkmermayyy]

I finally watched Wish. And I gotta say, it's not as bad as people say it is. Don't get me wrong, it's not good by any means. But it's still not so awful I felt frustrated and sick to my stomach after watching it. But it's also not so bad it's good to the point where it becomes a guilty pleasure for me like the live-action Bratz movie. It's just...bad. But not horrible. It had potential. It COULD'VE been good if the writers actually gave a single damn, and knew what they were doing. Or, alternatively, if they simply spent a few more hours on the damn movie. But alas, they did not, and since we're in the bad timeline, this is what we got. The music is what really weighs it down, with just about every song being meaningless, badly-written, and having terrible grammar/confusing metaphors that don't hold up under a microscope or even make any sense at all, really. The only thing stopping them from being completely insufferable is the fact that the actors are legitimately good singers, making it a crying shame that none of them weren't given better material to work with.

The characters themselves, though, are unfortunately very boring, one-dimensional, and contradictory/confusing in their writing. The setting, plot, and worldbuilding are all very bland and haphazard as well, to the point where I actually laughed out loud during the climactic scene at the end where the king brutalizes Asha with his evil magic. It was that ridiculous! The side characters, both human, animal, and star, were all boring and pointless(except for the Star ig) and I really have a bone to pick with Gabo especially. He goes from thinking that Asha killed her family(for no reason, mind you) to shaming Simon for being a bad friend and betraying Asha to the king, both in the SAME SCENE!!! It's like...all of the characters are this inconsistent honestly.

And I don't buy that people would be happy to "forget without regret" when it comes to their wishes. It just makes no sense to me. The writers should've come up with a better excuse for why the people of Rosas put their faith in the wishing system rather than "they forget what they wanted in the first place but are totally all right with that!" especially when Asha acts like this is a new revelation. Like come on, guys, you work at Disney! Give us something! But they gave us nothing. Because they are lazy. A shame.

Also the costumes in this movie were boring and bland af, and everything was really monochrome and lifeless. It definitely fails in comparison to the costume designs in Encanto, The Princess and the Frog, and even Tangled. Everything just feels so dull, cheap, lazy, and uninspired. Though I do like Asha's design aside from her outfit, she is very pretty and it's sad what this movie does to her. This movie in short didn't feel like a Disney 100 Anniversary. In fact, it didn't even feel like a Disney movie at all. It felt like a student film that was inspired by Disney, or like those direct to video films made for really little kids that have a low budget and even lower-quality CGI. Just a massive disappointment. I'm afraid that Disney is no longer the gold standard of animation that it used to be. Oh well. 😔

this is what really ticks me off about wish. I would be fine if it was just terrible if it ended up not being amazing or even good, but it’s mediocre. And that drives me INSANE because I see so much potential in the story and characters and the villains but they just let it bite the dust and left us with this infuriatingly mediocre movie that was supposed to be the 100 YEAR ANNIVERSARY SPECIAL FOR DISNEY! That’s supposed to be something fantastical and amazing and have that wow factor but it’s just so bland and it makes me angry. Also the fact that it was originally supposed to be traditionally animated but they changed that also makes my blood boil.

[herotome]

I've been scrolling through your blog, which is great by the way but anyway what I came to say, or well write, is that almost every answer by jade or post tagged as jade just makes me go: This is uncannily me?. So I just wanted to ask how did you get inside my brain and who allowed you? - Jades long lost twin??

You see, anon, Jade is also uncannily me... We're all Jade here. 😔🎈

No I'm jk but lol I think she's the one most people actually relate to on a certain level?

Griffin is the part of me that operates at 200% and has enough spoons to rival a kitchen drawer - the part that makes good impressions, makes people laugh and smile and regard me with that awed look of 'I didn't realize you were cool.' (But like, I tap into that energy a few times a year at most, sometimes needing to rely on alcohol to access it, whereas Griffin has an apparent endless supply even when sober l o l).

Mia is my late teens and early-twenties, constantly second guessing, wondering if I was too much, unsure of who I was and how I came across, immediately regretting it every time I had a big emotional reaction; yet at the same time had such a big heart that was ready for love and to be loved in all of love's different forms, just didn't know how.

Dart is how I behave in public - guarded, dismissive, unwilling to interact, but with glimpses into an unwaveringly kind and patient nature that I dole out in cautious doses to people who actually need help. It's the part of me that's seen how people take advantage of others and knows how people can be cruel and ignorant, but nonetheless feels compelled to do the right thing.

Jade is my anxiety and my compulsion to put myself under review, under a microscope, the part of me that is all too aware of being Perceived and wants nothing more than to hide under the covers and sleep for a thousand years, to be away from everyone. The part that is so, so tired, the part that would feel quite done if not for Mr/Ms 200% egging me on and on and providing some levity and good humor.

I think between enjoying yet fretting over the unpredictably fluctuating nature of internet culture, living in an age of monitoring and security and scrutiny, and maybe even a general millennial angst, the Jade mindset has become very commonplace and therefore #relatable.

bonus-

Warden... uhhh. Warden is like... the part of me that's more instinctual - my first reaction to things, which includes my skepticism and my willingness to believe things at face value? He's my capacity for faith and for withholding judgement - even when he wonders deep down if he's making the right call. When placed in a position of authority, the wondering and overwhelm runs rampant. Tbh I'm putting him last because he's also a lot like Jade in a weird low-key way - the way they think is very similar, the way they express themselves couldn't be more different.

And finally, MC. As best as I'm able to write it, MC is my surface level running stream of consciousness. It's capable of deeper thought and introspection, but I make an effort to keep it on the crust rather than allowing it to descend too deeply into the magma (where Jade and Warden live).

All this to say I bet every character is #relatable, if you dig deep enough and see them in the right light!

anyway tldr we're all sharing a brain, we're all in the matrix

[petitelepus]

A Loner's Unexpected Journey, Part 4

Kimetsu Academy!Genya Shinazugawa X Fem!Reader

Summary: You let Genya take you out on a date to a surprise place. It's PURRRfect.

Warnings: None

A/N: Modern!AU, Kimetsu Academy, Female Reader, Genya Shinazugawa

PART 1 II PART 2 II PART 3 II PART 4 II PART 5 II PART 6 II PART 7 II PART 8 II PART 9 II PART 10 II PART 11 II PART 12 II PART 13 II PART 14 II PART 15 II PART 16 II PART 17 II PART 18

You were a nervous wreck. Genya had asked you out and despite feeling reluctant and fearing the worst, you had accepted his invitation. He had been so happy and you felt so bad that you didn't exactly return his enthusiasm.

You had no real experience when it came to dating and you were afraid your poor heart wouldn't be able to handle all these complicated feelings you were having.

You liked Genya, you really did! Maybe even a little more than just as a friend but there were these walls that you had spent years building to protect and keep your fragile heart safe.

Even though you liked Genya, you weren't sure if your heart could handle him… But you had so much fun talking with him during your lunches and you felt like he deserved a chance to show his heart to you.

So here you were, just outside your high-rise and waiting for your date to come and pick you up. Since this was a huge thing for you and you kind of wanted to dress to impress, you had put on this pretty black dress, straightened your hair and you had never put on some makeup.

You were feeling a little out of your element, like a fish out of water with your dress and makeup, but-!

"Oi!"

You snapped out of your thoughts as soon as you heard a familiar voice shout and you turned to see Genya himself running at you. You must have been in a trance because you hadn't noticed him approaching you.

"I'm sorry, am I late?" He asked as he stopped before you and you shook your head, even if you didn't know, "No, I just got here."

"Alright, great-!" He nodded but then he looked at you properly and you felt like you had been placed under a microscope. "Oh."

"Wh- what?"

"You, uh…" Genya blinked and you swallowed nervously, "Yes?"

"You look beautiful…" He admitted as he averted his gaze, his face flushed red as a cherry before he quickly added "I- I mean, you're always pretty, and not just today!"

You felt your eyes widen in surprise, but your heart-! It was beating so hard in your chest and pumping all that blood into your cheeks. Not only that, but you were feeling… Giddy?

"I…" You smiled a little shyly, "Thank you… You look good also."

You weren't lying and your friend and current date nodded.

"S- shall we go?" Genya asked and you nodded before the two of you started walking, to where you had no idea. While you walked you talked about school and his sharp-shooting club and how there was going to be a big competition coming that would determine if he would be able to take your school to nationals.

"Wow, that's very impressive!" You said as you smiled, "I'm happy that you have something you like doing."

"Yeah, shooting is my passion." He nodded with a small smile, "It's what I'm best at."

"That makes me happy." You replied, but then you took notice that you had walked for quite some time already and you still didn't know this was the date, just walking around the city.

"If I may ask, where are we going?" You asked and Genya replied, "It's right around the corner actually."

"Oh?" Your curiosity grew. You hadn't been to this part of the city in ages since there weren't really any stores where you shopped or such. So when you finally stopped in what appeared to be in middle of nowhere, you glanced at your friend in confusion.

"Why did we stop?"

"Because we are here," He said and you blinked as you looked around what caught your attention was a huge window with cats on the other side of the glass.

"Cat Land?" You read the place's name in the glass.

"It's, uh, it's a cat cafe," Genya said and you awed as you nodded, "Oh wow, I haven't been in a cat cafe before!"

"Teacher Himejima suggested this place to me when I asked for advice from him."

Oh, that made you curious. You looked at him and asked, "What did you ask?"

"I, uh…" Genya blushed as he rubbed the back of his head, "Where to take the girl I like…"

"Ah," You looked away in a sad attempt to hide your blush. He said it again, a girl he liked…!

"S- shall we head inside?" He asked and you nodded, "Y- yes please!"

The two of you walked up to the door and you noticed that there was a doorbell, that Genya pressed. You were confused but decided to wait and see instead of asking, and sure enough, a woman in an apron with a cat's picture and the cafe's name came to greet you at the door.

"Hello there! Do you guys have reservations?" The waitress asked and you felt your blood freeze in fear. Did you have one? You didn't know you needed one, and then you started to panic for Genya's sake. He would no doubt be embarrassed if you were going to be turned away and the date would be awkward-!

"Yes, I have a reservation for two," Genya said, much to your relief. You felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest, you were that nervous.

"Good good, right this way," The woman smiled as she led you and Genya inside and asked you to take your shoes off and leave them by the entrance before taking you to your table.

"Alright, there are some rules here in Cat Land." The waitress smiled, "You can pet the cats, but not lift or carry them. No feeding cats human food either, if you want, you can buy some snacks if you want to feed them. There are also toys at each table if you want to play with them. Any questions?"

You and Genya both shook your heads and the woman smiled as she handed you two your menus, "Here are our menus, I'll be back in 5 minutes to ask if you are ready to order."

The two of you thanked the woman and took a look at the menus. You swallowed, everything was cat-themed and top quality, but the prices were pretty high also… But you lived only once so you didn't let the prices hold you back from ordering what you wanted.

When you knew what you wanted, you put the menu down and looked at Genya who was sitting opposite to you, still looking through his own menu. You smiled as you stared at him, taking in the focused look in his eyes as he skipped through the menu.

Feeling your stare, Genya looked up and blushed a little when he noticed you staring at him, "W- what is it?"

"Nothing," You confessed with a small yet honest smile, "I just like looking at you."

Hearing you say such a thing made him blush and you were about to ask what he was going to get when the waitress returned with a small notepad.

"And are we ready to order?" She asked and you nodded as you picked your menu and showed her what you wanted,

"I think I have hot cocoa and black cat chocolate cake," You listed your order to the waitress who nodded as she wrote everything down, "And you, young sir?"

"I'll have coffee with milk and white cat vanilla mousse." He said and the woman smiled as she took your menus, "Wonderful, I'll be back soon with your order." And just like that she was gone. You turned to look at your best friend and smiled.

"Oh wow, this place is so cool."

"I- it is…"

"You even made a reservation here?" You asked in awe and he nodded a little shyly, "It wasn't that hard-!"

"Mew!"

You and Genya both looked down and saw an orange cat with green eyes look up at you from the floor and before the two of you could react, the little thing jumped on your table and started to rub its face against Genya's arm.

"Wh- what, you want to be petted?" He grumbled but he still pet the cat and you looked at him and admired the gentle smile on his face as he petted the cat.

Silently, you pulled your phone from your purse and took a photo of Genya and the orange cat. You were very happy with the photo, but before you could show it to him, there was another small mew and a brown cat jumped on the table, demanding your attention.

"What a cute little cat!" You said happily as you petted the cat and it was the young man's turn to admire you and how kind you were being to the cat, but then again, you were perfect in his eyes.

Soon the waitress came back with your orders and you took pictures of the dishes, the hot cocoa having a kitten in it made with cream art and your chocolate cake had a cute white chocolate kitten face and dark ears.

Genya's order was almost identical, but he ordered coffee instead of hot cocoa and his dessert was white while yours was so dark brown it was nearly black.

"These are almost too cute to eat!" You said but still, you grabbed your fork and cut into the cake before eating it. Oh, it was so delicious, the dark chocolate was in perfect balance with light chocolate cream inside the cake and the hot cocoa warmed you from the inside out.

"Oh, wow…" Genya swallowed his own piece, "So sweet!"

"Wanna try mine?" You offered your cake plate to him and he nodded as he cut himself a piece and ate it, "Delicious."

"Can I try yours?" You asked and he nodded again as he offered his dessert to you and you tasted the vanilla mousse.

"So good…!" You moaned happily and Genya smiled, so happy he had taken you to the cafe. You were happy also. You didn't know if it was because of hot cocoa, but your heart felt at ease now.

It feltl like your heart wasn't so afraid of failure or anything really anymore and it didn't ache in fear as hard as it had at the start of your date or when you entered the cafe. You felt… At peace and happy that you had accepted Genya's plea to let him take you out.

The two of you finished your drinks and desserts and then it was time to play with the cats. There were many cats but many people too. It looked like this orange and brown cat had taken a shine on you and Genya. The two of you happily petted and played with the cats until it was time to go since your time reserved in the cafe was running out.

The kind waitress came and brought you the bills and placed them on the table between you. You reached for your wallet in your purse, but before you could dig your debit card out, Genya slammed the exact amount of money on the table, making the cats in your laps flinch.

"I'm paying," He said and you frowned, ready to object but you quickly noticed the determined look in his eyes that left no room for you to argue against him.

"At least let me pay my own-!" You were saying but to no avail.

"I refuse!" He snapped as he put his wallet away, "I asked you out, and as a man, it's my responsibility and duty to pay!"

"…Alright…" You pouted as you slowly put your wallet away and the waitress took the money and to your surprise, she gave you two little cookies that were shaped like cats, "Thank you for your visit and please come again!"

"Thank you for having us," You and Genya thanked as you went to put your shoes back on and left the cafe… But after that, the two of you were clueless about what to do.

"Uh…" Genya swallowed nervously, "Can I take you home or anything?"

"I- uh…" You nodded, "Yes please…?"

The beginning of the walk back home was silent and you couldn't stand it. So you looked at the young man and asked, "So…?"

"Yes? What is it?"

"Wanna tell me about sharp-shooting?" You asked and the surprised look on Genya's face made your heart ache, but with cozy warmth and not a cold chilling touch of fear.

"Are you sure you want to hear me talk about my club activities?" He asked, as if not believing that you wanted to hear about his interests.

You smiled and nodded, "Yes, I'm interested in them."

Genya looked baffled, but an honest nice smile rose to his lips and he started to tell you how he got into shooting when he started school. You listened to him eagerly, happy to see and hear how fondly he talked about his passion.

Before you knew it, you were by your high-rise and it was time to say goodbye… Usually, you would be excited to be back home, but for some reason, you were sad that the date was over. Your heart tightened as you looked at your friend who looked troubled.

"Well…" Genya looked aside a little awkwardly, "This is it."

You nodded quietly, but that didn't feel enough. You had to say something.

"I had really so much fun today with you Genya." You confessed to him honestly and happily and he could tell you were being genuine.

"Can I…" He was about to ask, but maybe he was fearful also? But he shook his head as if to clear his mind before he gently took your hands and just… Held them in his bigger hands," Will you let me take you out again?"

Your heart was racing like crazy in your chest and you wanted to shout out loud, but you held your voice.

"Okay!" You nodded happily, quickly adding, "But nothing expensive next time like you did this time!"

"Why, didn't you like it?"

"No, I loved it, but I don't want you to spend all your money on me!" You said and he looked reluctant so you pushed forward, "Promise me you won't use that much money on me?"

"I…" He swallowed and you quickly added, "Or at least let me pay my something!"

"Absolutely no-!"

"Please…?" You asked now with a smaller voice as you looked at him genuinely, "I really want to be part of these dates. That includes going on them and helping to pay them."

"Ngh…" He looked troubled, "Alright, fine!"

"You promise?"

"I promise!"

You smiled as you took your hands from his and squeezed them, "Thank you Genya. I had really fun today."

"Me too…" He admitted with a soft blush, not daring to really look at you in the eyes anymore. So the two of you promised to meet next time for lunch in your usual spot…

But that night, both of you were looking at the pictures you had taken of each other at the cafe that day and you were both smiling fondly.

[the-jnadf-man]

VIOLENCE THOUGHTS (Nobody asked but here goes anyway :))

7-1!

"Aw man can't wait to OH SHIT FLASHBANG"

"Where the fuck am I going" *spends like 3 minutes running in circles*

"FAST FUCKING DOLLS! MURDER"

"Yo holy shit BIG MAN JUMPSCARE! FOLLOW THAT BITCH IMMEDIATELY I WANT TO FIGHT IT"

"Oh hey Maurice"

*Spends another 3 minutes running in circles*

"Why is it so dark"

"Oh ye gods it's" *Points dramatically* "MINOS' WILD RIDE 2!"

"Oh I get to fight people on the rollercoaster? REAL SHIT? AW YEAH I LOVE IT WHEN THE GOONS ARRIVE ON CARTS" *Proceeds to fall off cart due to hands shaking from excitement*

"I GET TO FIGHT BIG MAN ON DA CART?! YES YES YES YES YEW"

"Boy that is a MICROSCOPIC hitbox"

"Oh sweet another goon"

*Wins on round 2* "That was a fun fight"

*House of Leaves reference comes back for round 3* OH SHIT OF FUCK NONONO

"That bitch has a Panopticon hammer?? That's really cool!"

*Wins* Aw naur Big Man fucking dieded :("

*Reads lore entry* "So this is illiteracy. I don't care for it.

*Reads more* *Starts crying inside* "MINOS WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST GET YOUR DOG"

7-2!

"YO ITS A DA GUTS MAN"

*Performs victory dance* "Oh they EXPLODE when you Goomba stomp their corpse okay cool I guess.

"Is that the fucking Big Ben"

"Why are the Mannequins in here. Are they made of the British??"

*Fails to notice the train. Tram. The thing you put the bomb on.* *Runs into the Guttertank instead* "Oh what is THAT" *Dies*

*Wins round 2* "Shit's crazy" *Almost dies to landmine* "Shit's crazy!"

*FAILS to notice red skull place location* "Okay better follow these tracks"

"Oh there's a hole in this building" *Lose shit and get very scared of the Under Construction sign*

"Okay where get bigger boom though" *Spends like 7 minutes accomplishing nothing whatsoever*

*Friend in VC tells me to put the nuke on the train* "What fucking train???"

*Backtracks after another 4 minutes of confusion* "Wow."

*Finishes level with some difficulties* "That took almost half an hour. Man. That's kinda sad."

*Reads Guttertank lore (And name)* "GUTSMAN TANK CANON"

*Laughs at Faust Panzer for like five minutes with friends*

7-3!

"Oh okay these are some funky-ass trees"

"Mmmm yes the Mannequins LIKE the dark spooky forest where they kill people. Definitely made of The British."

"Yoooo I get to feed the tree"

"What's up with these funky blood men???"

"Oh okay guess this is happening now"

"They upgraded the blood men????"

"Oh that is. EVERY all of the bad guys???" *Does not notice dual wield*

*Finishes level, somehow gets an S* "That sure was a thing I just did."

7-4!

"Oh no this passage is made for short people. Guess I'll have to go back inside."

"BIG FUCKING DUDE"

"Holy shit it's the it the its its IT'S THE FUCKING MARIO GALAXY BOSS"

*Opens blood waterfalls* "Oh no it's the plague! We've released the plague rats!"

"IT'S THE FUCKING- THE HALBERD'S DEFENSE SYSTEMS ARE DOWN WHERE'D THE BIG FUCKING LOBTER GO"

*Gets stuck in rising blood, mashing jump button, getting bullied by friends for dying* "The game just did not bloody let me jump :("

"Oh sweet it's Mother Brain with Star Dream's lasers" *Dies x3*

"I GOTTA GET OUTTA HERE"

*Proceeds to die to environment during escape sequence, more friendly(???) (I cannot tell at the best of times, but I assume yes) bullying from friends (Mostly the one person)* ":("

"YOOO BIGGER MAN EXPLODEAD"

*Finishes level* 10/10! *Internet fucking. Dies??* "Yeah seems like a good spot to end on"

*Reads Earthmover's lore* Mmmm, robot giraffe bad, gotcha.*

*The next day* *Reading TVTropes* "THUS THEY HAVE BEEN CHRISTENED!

BENJAMIN!"

[sio-writes]

Botanist's Guide - Chapter 12

<<Chapter 11 (NSFW)

<<< Chapter 1

Summary: Cassandra Rowland, PhD, finally has the chance to work on an experiment that really matters: growing Earth crops on another planet. Too many overdue reports and marked failures have put her in hot water with the board, and this is her last chance at redemption. So when she finds herself railroaded by a seven foot tall, glowing alien named Kri, it won’t be as easy as sticking some seeds in the soil and running them under the tap. Tack on the looming repossession of her lab contingent on her success in Kri’s reports, and Cassie realizes she may have her work cut out for her.

Looking into the microscope I see exactly what I should be seeing: The box-like cell structure of a plant, no different than one I'd see on Earth. It's sage, so crushing it between the slides released it's earthy aroma, and now my whole station smells like the greenhouse, but that's not a complaint. 

Mutations are non-existent, cell walls look good, chlorophyll is bright green. I check off the Salvia officinalis box on my laptop as well as transfer any notes from my head to the computer, and then I pick up the next slide. 

Lactuca Satvia, iceberg lettuce, also looks like every slide I've made. No mutations, it's bright green that fades into a white at the stalk, and if it weren't currently doing a job for science, I'd definitely add it to a salad. I note it down right next to the sage, humming something off-key as I do. Maybe I'll grab a salad for lunch. 

There's only a few more slides to go through, I'm making great time today. My mp3 player crapped out on me, a victim of getting slammed against the wall the other day. I have a little funeral planned, which just consists of putting her into the garbage cube-maker thing. If I had funeral music to play I would, but…well.

It's absence has left the lab deathly silent, but I think my coworkers are thankful for it. At least, no one's said otherwise. The change in pace has kept me focused, a good thing for today with so much technical work to get done. Staying on task is my number one priority.

And Jillie won't stop staring at me.

All day now, she's been throwing me glances, flat out staring me down, she even sent a paper note over. I've been pointedly ignoring her in favor of digging into my work, with huge success on my end. I'm apparently very good at my job when I'm avoiding something else.

I'd tried the silent treatment when the door first opened-- two hours later!-- but once she started crying I felt too bad to keep up the charade. Then she'd shoved these nasty granola bars and an ice-cold water in my face, and I ate only to appease her and not because I'd skipped dinner to head back to the lab in the first place. Besides, a few minutes of pretending to be mad told her what I needed it to, and it was about all I could handle anyway. She's my friend, I can't be mad at her for trying to hook me up. But I can pretend to withhold the information to torture her for a few days. Just a little. 

The first day back had been the worst of her prying. Kri had decided to keep up his schedule of only showing up once a week, giving her permission to blabber away.

"So. Is it big?"

"Hand me the pipettes, please."

"Aw come on! At least tell me if he was good!"

"Pipettes. Please."

But Kri is here today, thank god, so her barrage of questions has stopped for now.

Eventually I will share, because I want to, but Kri and I didn't actually talk about anything. He didn't wake me up after ten minutes like I'd asked him to, instead the shrill metal of the door sliding open is what woke me up. And then Jillie rushed in with her terrible food, and we all went home. It felt particularly anti-climactic compared to the heated confession and fucking. 

Part of me is hopeful, but it's nearly drowned out by the cynic in me. Until we parted ways, Kri kept constant contact with me-- a steadying hand on my back, an arm around my waist, and once, for a glorious moment as Jillie walked out ahead of us, he interlaced our hands together and squeezed my fingers. I think my heart actually leapt into my throat, and then he was walking away without a goodbye.

It's left this…whatever we have going, undefined and hazy. We exchanged pleasantries this morning, but that was all, and it's been nothing but work since. I'm not picking up any anger or malice, but it's also awkward as hell, especially with an extra set of blue eyes watching my every move. "Ignore us Jill, but hey Kri, remember when we fucked? That was great, wanna do it again? On a regular basis?" 

It's not like I can call or text him, I don't have a phone that connects to Summanus' sat-system. Just the chunky brick they gave at landing that connects to the handful of satellites we ground out of the military's original plan. I don't know where Kri lives, either, and they don't have any kind of directory in English. But it's not like Kri's made any moves either, and he actually knows where I live.

I sigh through my nose as I prep the next set of slides. Maybe I'm making excuses, flimsy reasons to keep this going as a casual thing instead of what I'd hoped it would be, what I want it to be. But we need to talk, hands down. Because not knowing is driving me crazy. 

Stealing a glance at Kri is easy, just pretend to hold the slide to the light. I simultaneously want to catch his attention as well as have him keep ignoring me so I can keep staring like a creep. There's things I hadn't picked up on before, small details. The line of his shoulders, the angles of his wings. He's still so pretty under the lights with the flecks of opalescent color in his plating, but it feels like I'm seeing him in an entirely new light. Has something in my brain switched?

The cosmos grants me a favor when Jillie walks to the bathroom. Immediately, I step away from my desk and towards Kri.

"Hey," I say. 

I probably should've thought of something to say.

"Hello," he says, resting his hands on his lap and giving me his full attention. "Is everything alright?"

I fidget with my coat, trying not to remember how it felt to take off for him. "Can we--Can we talk?"

He glances sideways at the bathroom door, then back to me. "Right now?"

I've come to realize that Kri isn't cagey like I once thought, he's just intensely private. He doesn't broadcast things, doesn't offer information like I do, isn't loud or boisterous. He flies under the radar a lot, and I think it's on purpose. 

"Later," I assure him. "Later-- um, do you wanna-- I mean, would you mind, maybe--"

As I talk and fidget, Kri stands from his chair and steps up to me. He grabs my face gently between two hands, and tilts my head up to his, both thumbs tracing lines over my cheeks.

"Would you like to talk over dinner?"

"That's a--" I clear my throat, and Kri's eyes crinkle as he smiles. "Sounds great."

His fingers are soft and warm, thumbs tracing over my cheek again, and his gaze falls to my lips. 

Nothing's been set in stone, but this, and the reminder of everything else, makes me want something solid. Something real, tangible.

I've tried to think about what I want to say, but I've never been good at stringing words together. I'm more a woman of action than speaking, I'd rather just push Kri against the desk and kiss him until my lips bleed.

We lean closer together, almost kissing, until the sound of a soft 'ahem' makes us jump apart, and we both turn to the source of the noise. In the doorway, Jillie has the biggest, shit-eating grin on her face.

My jaw works on several starting noises, but none make their way out. I wind up looking like a fish.

She holds up her hands, placating. "Hey don't let me interrupt." And sits back at the countertop as if nothing happened.

Heat rises to my cheeks, even more so when I hear Kri softly chuckle behind me as he steps back to sit down. I grumble back to my desk, and Jillie's pointed looks burns a hole through my spine. But we work through the next thirty minutes without issue. It's boring as shit, and the tension in the air makes my leg bounce up and down.

After a few more minutes of tense silence, I'm ready to burst. I'm going to explode.

"I'm holding a funeral for Emmie."

The two of them look to me, but their expressions couldn't be further apart. Kri looks shocked, genuinely concerned that I have a deceased friend, and Jillie's look is flat, very much done with my shit. 

"Your mp3 player, really Cass?"

Kri's expression resolves into understanding, and then falls to match Jillie's. "Hardly grounds for a funeral."

I chew on my bottom lip and stare at the floor. "Yeah the, uh, the screen cracked." I pull Emmie out of my back pocket, where she usually lives, and display her in my cupped palms like a baby bird. Behind Jillie, Kri sucks in a breath, but says nothing. Jillie either doesn't notice or doesn't care, because she scoffs, smiling.

"You're so dramatic."

I pocket Emmie again, my brows pinching in mock-offense. "She was a member of this family!"

"It was outdated before your grandparents were born!"

"She was reliable," I hold my hand to my heart, and wipe away a tear. "Three thousand songs, no internet required. Now I have to find something else."

"God forbid you talk to us instead."

I hold my sordid expression. "No one here understands me."

"You listen to your sad music too much, hun."

"It is rather whiny," Kri chimes in, and I shoot him a dirty look over Jillie's shoulder. He shrugs.

"You're both bullies, I'm putting in for a transfer," I say very mildly as I grab the next slides.

"Good," Jillie sniffs. "You can smooch it up in someone else's lab."

As slowly and dramatically as possible, I turn to her. "I'm sorry, who stuck us in a room for three hours?"

"Two, you drama queen."

"At least Kri likes me," I say and Jillie shoves my shoulder.

"One of us has to."

Our shoulders shake as we hold back laughter, and for the first time all day, I feel light. Like a seal has been broken and released all the pressure in the room.

Jillie doesn't stare at me anymore, instead she focuses her efforts on the experiment, and even hums a few songs to break up the silence. We hit a flow again, something that's been sorely lacking the past few weeks, and zoom through the required tests. Despite the crushing quiet, it's been nice to sink into a routine that we both know, stepping around each other like a dance.

I keep my eye-contact down to a minimum, because my thoughts will scatter to the wind again. And it's hard enough reigning them in even when I'm  focusing on my work. Looking at Kri only makes me think of the other day, and then what may happen later. It opens up a question that I desperately need an answer to, but won't get until later. But I need it now, and the anxiety of not knowing is ramping up my anxiety to a twelve.

We all break for lunch, the three of us walking to the cafeteria. Jillie and I snag a booth with our food, and Kri splits off. I look around to see if I can find him in the mess that is the food prep stations, but I don't see him. He chose to eat by himself those first few days, a habit that carried over even when Jillie was out sick, but I wish he'd sit with us now. 

Turning back to the booth, I accidentally make eye-contact with Jillie. The flame of curiosity is back in her eyes, and I shrink down in my seat. I suppose it's time to end her suffering.

"This is killing me," she says. "Are you guys a thing now?"

She looks so excited, so hungry to hear about everything. I push out a sigh. "I have no idea. We didn't talk about it."

Leaning back, Jillie's face falls into an impressed expression, and I fail to suppress a responding smile. Jillie slaps her palms on the table and barks out a laugh. "I knew it!"

"Shush!" I hiss, reaching over as if the motion would quiet her. "Not so loud."

Jillie's eyes are glittering as she reaches for my hands across the table. "You have to tell me everything."

In as many words, I try to surmise the evening, from the fight to falling asleep, with Jillie interjecting with questions every now and then. Some details I keep to myself, I'm allowed some secrets, but Jillie's my best friend. We try to eat in between, but eventually wind up setting down our food to focus on conversation.

I finish with her opening the door, and she squeezes my hands. "So where should I disinfect? The countertop? The floor? The shower in the bathroom?"

"He held me against the wall," I say, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth.

"Ooh, standing?"

I shake my head, and her look of realization is priceless.

"You have to tell me how big he is."

I groan to the ceiling. "I wish I knew. I couldn't see it."

"Then you gotta look again, hun!"

Leaning back, I grab my water bottle and take a swig. "He did invite me to dinner."

Jillie nods sagely. "You're definitely gonna get some tonight, then."

I open the wrapper for my salad and mull it over as I pour the dressing on. "I don't know if I want to. At least not tonight. I was hoping we'd talk instead."

"Talk?"

I nod. "We didn't do much talking-- shut up-- so now I don't know what this is. Friends-with-benefits? Something serious? And what do I even want? What does he want from me? What is he--"

"Cass, calm down. Nothing's happened yet."

"That's the problem! I don't know what's going on."

Jillie scrunches her face, her head falling to one side. "Then ask him?"

I plop my cheek into my palm, squishing my face on one side. "Not like we've had time."

Jillie offers me a sympathetic look. "Maybe you need to be more upfront. Instead of making out while I'm in the bathroom, you have a little chit-chat. I can disappear for a while."

"We already agreed on dinner," I say, smiling.

"You sure?" She raises her eyebrows. "You just say the word, and I'm gone for fifteen to twenty minutes."

I shake my head again, filled with warmth that she's so insistent. I am anxious about it, but things can wait. It's not worth putting the experiment on hold for. Besides, the lab is hardly a romantic setting to have a serious conversation.

With a deciding nod, Jillie starts to clean her space, and I'm short to follow behind. The rest of the day runs as planned, no interruptions. Jillie stays in her seat, and I'm not thrown into a panic.

I'm actually looking forward to dinner with Kri. The restaurants here are okay, and there's even a few with that warm, low, romantic lighting that's perfect for dates. And honestly, I'm more excited to spend time with Kri. A small, girlish part of me wants to go home to freshen up, make myself look nice instead of the lab rat I must resemble.

All three of us head out of the building, Jillie heading west, Kri and I heading south. The restaurants are all in the northern quadrant by the Capitalism District, there's none in this direction. The only thing this way is housing.

I fake nonchalance as we walk. "So, where're we headed?"

"The…" he trails off, frowning and speaking slowly like he's testing out the words. "Food storage facility."

I raise an eyebrow. "The grocery store?"

He looks down at me, concerned. "Is that okay?"

The grocery store is closer to a MiniMart or a gas station. A handful of isles of instant meals, comfort foods, and frozen produce shipped from Earth. But there's also the ento-run store to the east with more selection. It's open to the public, but everything is labeled in Universal, and I have no idea what's good or not, so I've been too intimidated to go on my own. "Which store?" I ask.

"The eastern building, I just need to pick up a few items."

I feel my stomach grumble. "And food after?"

"I was hoping to cook for you," he says, wings fluttering. "If that's alright."

I haven't had anyone cook for me since I visited my parents. Warmth settles in me, not quite arousal, but something else, something heavier. Kri wants to cook for me.

"That'd be awesome."

The walk to the grocery store runs through another block of buildings, all of them painted in subdued, warm tones. They're all short, maybe three stories at the tallest, and the terrain reminds me of a seaside strip mall-- laid brick and cobblestone. I've only ever been to this side once on a tour, this is where it turns into culture and arts. 

The store is nestled at the bottom floor of a deep red building, a carved out space that may have once been a multi-vehicle garage. Inside are several rows of foodstuffs, some packaged, some open. There's an assortment of fruits that I have no idea the names of as well as what look like a few rows of packaged instant ramen. Some things are universal, I suppose. 

The store is empty, so it's just the two of us looking through the isles. I wander the isles while Kri picks up several fruits. He grabs a plum-sized blue seed, a handful of bean pods the size of my finger, and two green vegetables that look like potatoes. I'm examining the isle of drinks, wondering what tastes like what, when Kri grabs my attention.

"Would you prefer sweet, or savory?" He holds up two nearly identical looking spheres that look like dark red coconuts. I walk up and pretend to inspect them, humming as I think. I have no idea what he's doing, but I appreciate that he's including me. 

"What do you like?" I ask. 

"It's your decision."

I blink at him. "But I don't know what you're cooking. What's easier for you?"

Kri regards me, head tilted, and puts the coconut in his left hand back on the pile. He doesn't say anything, remaining silent as he grabs several other things, all the while catching glimpses of me as he does. I sidle up to him as the cashier bags his stuff.

"What'd ya go with?"

The cashier extends one long arm and hands Kri his things, and Kri quickly closes the bag so I can't see inside. "You'll have to find out."

I balk. "No fair!"

He smirks at me sidelong. "You insisted it was my decision."

"But I need to know the results."

"You will."

***

Kri’s apartment isn’t far from the store. I have to wrestle one of the grocery bags out of his grubby hands so I can I carry it and feel useful as we wind around buildings and cross a few streets. We walk quietly, not quite awkward enough for my reflexive talking to kick in, but I feel the need to fill the space simmering under my skin.

I want to say something. I should probably say something. It's only fair, and would help my anxiety so much more than waiting. 

We wait in the elevator to his floor and I need to say something. We're approaching his place and I need to speak up, but I say silent.

It's too much, it would break this easy flow. The timing isn't right and god damn it, we're already at his door. 

Stepping through the doorway feels simultaneously like jumping off a cliff and nothing at all. I'm aware of how huge this feels, my stomach lurches and my hands go clammy, but I'm also aware of the world continuing to turn around me. This doesn't feel real, but I want to grab at it with both hands and take it before it disappears.

Kri flicks the lights on, and I don't know what I expected, but a mirror of my own place wasn't it. This building is supposed to have the nicer layouts, with actual bedrooms instead of a studio layout. It's not surprising though, us Earth scientists are about as creative as socks for Christmas when it comes to designing buildings. I hope Kri isn't paying extra.

Everything is scaled up for someone of Kri's size, and there's a massive cloth hammock where the bed should be that's piled high with pillows. Along the living room wall on the right are shelves of books, interspersed with plants of various sizes that hang down almost to the floor. To the left of the sliding glass door to the balcony is another bookshelf, with a screen and speakers, and the light reflects off several picture frames that flick through a few photos.

Giving in to my base urge to be nosy, I set my bag on the kitchen counter and wander over to the television set. Under the coffee table is an ornate looking rug that's definitely too expensive for my apartment, and I try to tip-toe around it to avoid leaving any dirt, when something catches my eye.

In the corner, on a bottom shelf, is a taxidermied rat on a tiny skateboard. It's in the middle of popping an ollie, sitting in the center of some kind of ceramic crown of Summanian flowers. The frame above it swipes to a new photo, and in my peripheral I see Kri

My anxiety flares, and I turn away from the shelf of picture frames and other memories. Focusing my attention on something else is all I can do not to feel like a trespasser here, and I wander to the kitchen where Kri is grabbing several items from the fridge. The feeling of inadequacy swells, gelatinous and without form, and I try to push it down. It squishes between the bars of my mind, an imprint reflected back at me that tells me I’m not welcome here.

Instead, I step up to Kri and wrap my arms over his waist. The chitinous plating covering his body draws lines over his form that lead my fingers to his front, and I lean into his frame. Even bent over, my arms are level with his waist, and when he straightens, it pushes my face into his wings. Their whole structure is split into two sets, the bottom that folds open like a fan, and the top shaped like a dragonfly’s wing. They’re cool under my cheek, catching the light and shimmering.

“Yes?” He asks, two hands coming to pat mine.

I sigh heavily against his back, trying to sort my thoughts and coming up short. Taking my silence for an answer, Kri turns in my arms and cups my face in his lower hands.

“Am I not paying you enough attention?” He teases gently, running a free hand over my head. “Because I’m trying to provide you with a meal.”

Shame wells up behind my anxiety, hot and present, and I puff my cheeks and stare at a spot on his shoulder. I know talking is the right choice here, but my head is too much of a mess to talk about anything. 

Ignoring the swirling feelings in my gut, I push up on the balls of my feet and press our lips together. He hums, a surprised note deep in his throat, as the hands gently cupping my cheeks firmly hold me and he pushes back. It’s a different kiss than the first one, softer, sweeter, holding promise. He’s slow to lick in my mouth, but it adds heat that reminds me of the passion of last week. He can pick me up and set me against the wall, can hold me with two arms and work me over with the other two.

I push my tongue into his mouth, wanting to make up for the interrupted kiss earlier today. My lips slot against his and he hums another satisfied note as he skims his tongue against mine and starts exploring my mouth.

I want more of this, I want this all the time. I can’t imagine giving up the way he slots so perfectly against me, like a puzzle piece I didn’t realize I was missing.

Kri pulls away from my mouth with a pained sound, but I can hear the smile in his voice. "I thought you wanted to talk first."

I lean into him and push my lip out in a pout. "Changed my mind." 

And then he smiles against my lips and pushes forward again. It's so easy to give in, like falling into a soft bed. I'm surrounded by comfort and warmth. 

Taking the lead, Kri steps me over to the counter and, without breaking the kiss, picks me up by the waist and lifts me onto the countertop. The ease that he picks me up makes me feel hot, and I moan softly against his lips before Kri pulls away. 

"What would you like to--" 

"Anything you want," I breathe. "What do you want?" 

Kri laughs, low and dangerous. "From you? Everything."

He leans forward to kiss me again, but the silence of the room makes my growling stomach practically echo against the walls, and Kri's hands stop halfway to my chest.

"You need to eat," he says, smiling. 

With that, he straightens, hands smoothing down my hair, and turns away from me and back into the kitchen.

"What would you like to drink? I have water, and I'm quite fond of Earth's orange juice."

I snicker. "Orange juice is actually more of a breakfast drink."

Kri presses his lips together and looks away, wings fluttering. "I also have lifrit juice, and wegol soda."

I hop down from the countertop and walk around the island to a stool. It's tall enough that when I sit, my legs swing freely. It's been a long while since my feet haven't hit the floor, it makes me feel like a kid again. 

Humming, I tap my fingertips over my lips. I'm not sure what those last two were, and I'm up for trying something new, but I also want tonight to mean something. It feels important that everything go right. "What would go with tonight's meal?"

He perks up at that. "I may have something," And starts rooting around in his lower cabinets. I hear him knocking about lots of metal objects-- pots and pans maybe, before he straightens, holding a bottle of wine.

"Is this acceptable?"

I drag the bottle closer and spin it around to get a look at the label. It's a Sauvignon blanc from a few years back, unopened. What a random thing to have in his cabinet. "Why do you have this?"

"I bought it to sample the taste, but never got the chance," he says as he roots around in the drawers. He opens a few before finding the little corkscrew opener and hands it to me. The bottle pops open easily, and I pour it into the two glasses Kri sets out for me. I bring the glass to my lips and sip at it while Kri watches and mimics me. I'm not super into wine-tasting but this one is good, it would pair well with a fancy meal. 

The face Kri makes after he sips is the same face I make when Jillie orders tequila shots, and I have to be careful not to inhale my drink. Kri immediately sets his glass down and shakes his head.

I hide my smile behind my glass. "Not a fan?"

"That is quite awful," he says with a shudder.

I take another sip of mine and then swirl the glass because I feel fancy. "It's pretty dry, you may be a fan of the sweeter stuff like Moscato. That one tastes like ginger ale."

Kri eyes my glass and purses his lips, skeptical, "I'll take your word for it."

As he turns back to the stove, I tip the remnants of his drink into my own, nearly filling the glass to the brim. Drinking on an empty stomach is a bad idea, especially if I'm going to need to find my way home later, but if I take little sips instead of trying to gulp it down like I usually do, I think I'll manage.

I watch Kri as he cooks, sitting on the opposite end of the countertop island to stay out of his way. As always, he's graceful in what he does, even with his back to me. All four hands doing something different, always switching focus and lasering in on it, not a single mistake is allowed, and absolutely hypnotizing to watch. 

"You're an alien of many talents," I say, and he glances at me over his shoulder.

"How do you mean?"

"I didn't know you could cook."

"Oh, I quite enjoy it. I can make you all manner of things."

I ignore the flutter in my stomach at the idea of him making me food regularly, and try to peer around him as he works. "What's your favorite thing to make?"

"Lepsc'it, it's a fried Trokk root stuffed with vegetables and spices. It's very easy, only a few ingredients, and there's many varieties all over the globe."

"Are you making that now?"

His wings flutter. "I thought I'd attempt something a bit more complicated."

"Are you trying to impress me?" I ask with a smirk.

He's too slow to cover his smile, "Only if it's working."

The smell of spices and vegetables fills the small space, like thyme or rosemary, with a hint of heat behind all of it, mixed with whatever main dish he's prepping. There's large puffs of pink something resting on a pan in the corner, a thick brown sauce that he scraped cubed veggies into, and something else that's blocked by his frame. It all smells heavenly.

My mouth is watering by the time he sets a large plate in front of me with one of those pink bread rolls on one side, the sauce and cubed veggies on the other. I smell more spices and heat, and it's agony to wait for him to sit next to me at the countertop. 

"Is it rude to just dig in?"

"Absolutely it is," he says, smiling. "But we're not at a paid dining establishment." He motions to my plate. "Eat."

This dish reminds me of curry but with bread instead of rice, and smells the same. Kri hasn't laid out any utensils as most ento eat with their hands, so I tear a piece of the pink bread off, dip it in the sauce, and pop it in my mouth. 

Spices and flavor dance over my tongue, things I can't name but are still delicious. It pairs with the bread so well, I'm barely through the first mouthful before I'm shoving a second bite in my face.

Kri eats opposite me, slow and careful, trying to casually glimpse up at me like he's checking in on me, and I cover my smile around another bite of food. He's worried, I can tell, and it's kind of cute.

I wolf down my food and say nothing, and normally I would feel bad about the silence, but Kri doesn't say anything either. 

"It was acceptable?"

"Don't kid yourself, it was delicious. I'm so full," I say, patting my stomach for emphasis.

It's not just the food that keeps me quiet. I also don't want to talk about how I feel. Being emotionally honest makes me anxious, makes me think of all the ways it could be used against me. I don't want to scare off Kri with all the issues I have. He listened to me in Igrien, but how many more times will he listen to me say, "Oh, Stephen made me this way," before he walks out?

But as we both set our plates aside and sit awkwardly in the kitchen, I realize that this is it. That if I want something to happen with Kri, I have to grab it with both hands myself. Even so, I still fiddle with my hands as I speak up.

"So uh, is this the part where we talk about feelings?"

Kri tilts his head, probably picking up on my mood, and quietly says, "If you'd like."

"Not really," I laugh, nerves making the sound shaky. "But I just want to know that we're on the same page-- that we're at a complete understanding," I correct when Kri narrows his eyes in confusion.

I focus my attention to a spot on the table. "I'm not good at words but I want…this. Us-- something…Something."

Even to my own ears it sounds horrible, and I grimace. God damn it, I should've thought about it before we got here. But all I have is feelings, emotions that push at my heart and flood my senses. I don't know how to describe my anxiety any better than describing the color red. Sometimes it feels like too much, like if I acknowledge anything it'll turn into too much to handle.

Kri only stares at me, giving me more space to talk, and my teeth creak as I grind them together anxiously. "Okay, it's your turn."

And then he looks away, down at the table, at his hands. His expression shutters off, a blank face, then darkens into something profoundly sad, and it's like I can hear his thoughts across the table. I appreciate the romp in the lab, Cass, but this just isn't for me. You're too fucked up, and I'm not about to deal with all of that. Except he'd say it nicer, with bigger words. Taking a shaking inhale, I hold my breath as the tightness of anxiety starts to coil around my chest and wraps fingers over my brain.

Then Kri sighs, a heavy movement of his shoulders, and he looks back up at me. "I admit that my thoughts are scattered. Between wanting to breathe you in like oxygen, and questioning whether I've earned the right to inhale. You've already bared your feelings for me, and I did not tell you mine at the time as I was--" he pauses to think, then huffs a laugh, "distracted. But I believe I have words for you now."

He reaches across the small table, taking my hands in his. He's warm as always, and his thumb rubs the back of my hand comfortingly. The tightness in my chest eases, ever so slightly.

"Cassie," he says. "I have a great many feelings for you, some of which I'm prepared for, and others that frighten me deeply. I am well aware that I come with a history, and the weight that it implies. But if you'll allow me your patience and understanding, I'd very much like to explore what a relationship with you would look like."

It's so earnest, so bare, that I'm hit with a wave of emotion that completely drowns out any other thoughts I have in my head. I want to lean forward and kiss his hands. I want to vault over the table and climb into his lap. "Jesus, did you prepare that?"

His eyes widen a fraction, like he didn't expect me to respond like that, and then he nods. "When confronted with interpersonal problems, I know that I tend to recede into myself and minimize the words leaving my mouth, and I'm trying not to do that so we're, what did you say, on the same page? You deserve my transparency in this, especially considering how I've been acting. I was trying to push you away when you wanted to be close, and you deserve so much better than that."

There's so much he's saying without saying it, and I can analyze why he thinks I deserve better, or inspect why all I want to do is jump over the table and give him the ride of his life, but my brain only latches onto my own insecurity. "You prepared a speech for me and all I had was, like, five words."

With a free hand, Kri rustles around in his bag and produces a small square of paper, folded very neatly. "I also wrote down several non-starters in case you realized that you're too good for me, so I also had a handful of words prepared."

It's said so casually, so matter-of-fact, that I can't help but snort. It breaks the tension in the room and my smile feels easier than before, keeping eye contact isn't as difficult.

"And to be fair," he continues. "You said more than enough the other day. I was worried that you'd take it all back."

Something clicks into place in my head, a small, flighty piece of Kri's psyche that I've been seeing without noticing. That despite his attitude, or ego, or anything else, he still craves a form of validation, still vies for approval. And I desperately, so desperately want to know what he's afraid of. But that's a whole other conversation, a heavy and upsetting one. One that I don't think either of us are up for right now.

So I squeeze his hands in mine. "I…really like you," I say. "I think we just need to get better at showing it. I guess we could…figure it out together?"

"That sounds lovely."

Kri tries to clean up on his own, but I butt my way in when he starts to wash the dishes. I'm off to his left, drying and setting them aside, and we fall into a good rhythm that reminds me of his time helping in the lab. We don't need to speak to fill space, I'm guided by his movements, and he's guided by me.

This is nice. Domestic, even. My heart stutters at the idea of doing this again, of sharing a space, of being welcomed into his home.

As I'm drying my hands on a towel, Kri steps around and in front of me, close enough that I can smell fresh water, and I look up at him and offer a warm smile. Taking my chin in one hand, he presses a kiss to my lips, chaste and simple and wholly perfect. This is our first kiss as a couple, I realize as his other hands carefully take the towel from me and rest it on the counter. 

The first of many, hopefully. 

Is that sappy? I don't care, as long as they keep happening. I press up to continue the kiss, a deep-seated need shocking through me at the soft noise he makes against my lips. 

Then Kri searches my face, and I hear the chitter of his wings as they flutter against his back. "You're more than welcome to stay," he says, voice low, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

It physically pains me to be responsible and say, "I have to clock in tomorrow."

He nods once, decisive, and quickly pecks my cheek again before straightening. "I will fly you home, then."

"Sounds goo-- wait what?"

Kri doesn't answer me, only walks past me and into the living room.

Surely, surely he can't mean literally, I continue to think as I grab my stuff and we head out the door.

But sure enough, we walk outside and he picks me up like I'm a princess, something that still shocks me that he can do, and off we go.

I've never seen the Outpost from above, and it's kind of beautiful. I can trace the lights of the walking paths and the hovercar roads, I see single rooms lit from the buildings, other residents up late like me. And outside the border of the Outpost is the pure, unfiltered landscape of Summanus, with its primordial trees and glowing underbrush, like the ground itself is framing us with light. I've seen Kri fly faster, he must be slowing himself for my benefit. And Kri is glowing too, not nearly as bright as the electronics around us, but more subtle, softer. It's still that pale blue, rivers of light lining his chitinous plating. I want to trace them with my fingers, before I remember what it does to him.

We land in front of my building, so gently that Kri's feet don't make a sound, and he sets me down just as carefully.

"Thanks," I mutter, suddenly shy and awkward. I feel like he's bringing me home from prom and it's past curfew. I clear my throat. "Thank you for dinner. Not bad for a first date."

With his two lower arms, he grabs my hands and brings them together. "You will have to decide the next one, then."

I huff an exhale, smiling up at him. "Okay."

He smiles back, soft, relaxed, totally content. Dark eyes search my face, and even in the low light I can make out my reflection in the inky blackness. Two hands come up to cup my cheeks, fingers wrapping around to the base of my skull, as Kri leans down and gently kisses me.

I tilt my head and sigh into it as my eyes fall shut, wishing I were taller so he wouldn't have to bend down as far and I could press up against him. This is still good, though, he can still rest his other hands over my hips, and I can wind my arms over his shoulders. 

This is all going to hit me later, a hurricane of repressed feelings. It's going to be a lot of good emotions though, I can feel them boiling behind my chest. Giddyness and arousal alongside anxiety and dread. I'm both excited and terrified of what could happen.

I can still feel the warmth coming off of him even when he leans back. His hands stay on my face, steady and comforting, and he leans forward and quickly kisses me again. 

"I should go before I follow you inside," he says around a laugh, and I nod sadly. 

"Or before I drag you in." 

He chuckles, low and sexy, and squeezes my hands. 

"Goodnight Cassie." 

"Goodnight Kri," I mumble, and he steps back, dropping my hands from his.

I watch him take off before going inside, and I couldn't wipe the smile from my face if I tried.

Chapter 13 >>

[simcardiac-arrested]

waves is just so fucked in the head i dont even know. he has everything wrong with him. he’s the evillest motherfucker on earth. but he’s also cool. Like yeah of course he sucks he will always suck. but he’s cool. he’s got spiky gauntlets and shit. he’s got such an intimidating demeanor. there’s something about villains who know they’re scary and powerful and use that to their advantage/just for funsies….. like this mf know what he’s doing and he’s proud of it !!! he’s gleeful about it !!!! we need to kill him im serious. we need to put him under a microscope. But also . there is something about villains with Principles. yes he loves his child and yes he hates his child yes he only wants the best for them but he would neverrrrrr physically hurt them. are you insane ? him? hurting his own kid? He would not fucking do that. he has morals. he has principles. he will emotionally humiliate wade and show no respect to her 24/7 but he would never deal any actual damage to her. now with sep it’s like … obviously that’s just waves mostly projecting his frustrations onto them. and the thing is. the main thing is. that waves Knows that sep is alive and conscious and sentient of course. he knows what he’s doing. Outwardly he justifies it to sep as them being just a machine who waves is just trying to improve and it shouldn’t even complain or feel pain in the first place. but like. waves knows. obviously. he’s an ancient he Knows iterators are much more than just machines. they’re people too. So when waves messes with sep it’s not just him doing it out of blind rage or technical ignorance or anything like that. he knows how cruel he’s being. He’s just twisted like that. i need to throw him at the wall. he knows how to hit it where it hurts, like of Courseee he does he’s literally in the Important Layer Of Ancient Society and to get there he had to do a bunch of unkind and sometimes borderline manipulative shit. everything hinders on respect for him but he will not hesitate to do something awful if he can hide it. like he does with sep. my god. my god. there’s no cure in sight

[hinako-supremacy]

please tell us killer cupids lore PLLEEEAASSEEEEEEE

i usually just reveal and come up with little tidbits of lore in random kilelr cupif posts (sometimes having different versions and universes) but i will try to write down the most consistent. i may be forgetting some things though hehe

(btw the lore isnt really static, it can be kind of all over the place and inconsistent. and for the little tidbits just go through his tag)

here we go v

one fateful day somewhere in pennsylvania, madsion valentino was born into a very large family of criminals(secret style) and general weirdos, so yeah from the start he was gonna turn out weird. he spent his days reading fairy tales, folk tales and horror stories, and oh how he loved to dissect roadkill! he loved all things scary and all things lovey

in his younger years, he would be bullied a lot, by teachers and students alike, but also he'd beat the shit out of his bullies in blind rage (berserker style) and there would be one million horrors and living nightmare redacted trauma, and he would keep mostly to himself and read (haha, kind of like scarecrow). hed like animals better than people, seeing himself more as an animal, kind of like

a very creature guy

further on he would actually grow more interested in people then become fascinated by humans and love to study them!!! anatomy and anthropology and psychology, wonderful!!! dissect things always <33 study peoples reactions to things and their behaviors and the way they think (and hed get a little silly with it, a little terrorizing with it) hed also love history!! and research history of gotham. interest!!!! hed be in awe of the history of gotham and the architecture and all that

so. when he went to college to become a doctor, hed go to gotham university, since its like. right over there. and gotham!! interest!!!! (hes like with gotham the way i am with boston (GREAT MOLASSES FLOOD 💪💪💪)) so then he becomes a physician at arkham asylum cause hes like "ohoho i'll meet all SORTS of interesting people there." and thats where he meets jeremiah, and let me tell you, the second he meets this man its love at first sight. he wants to know all about him, become his bestie, put him under a microscope and all that. and jeremiah is so nice to him... madison finds him so kind... so.. interesting!!! and hes so cute when hes stressed!! want to give him a big smooch!!! and bite him and be with him forverv all time!! and keep him in his basement i mean what

madison always tries to find out everything he possibly can about jeremiah and get close to him. though he finds that jeremiah doesnt like to be asked about himself... but the scarecrow, one of the inmates hes very much grown to like, admires even, and become a bit of friends hehe, he used to be with jeremaih!! find out some things from him 🔍🔍🔍 and madison has definitely heard stories and done research about arkham itself and the family. each day his obsession grows more and more <3 start following him around and stealing from him

and with scarecrow, the two find they have so much in common, similar interests and things, two peas in a pod!! he finds he feels so comfortable around him.. so free... wiow! he can say batshit crazy things to this guy! he can BE batshit crazy with this guy!!!

some point, madison sees some rando that reminds him of jeremaih, he thinks "hey. what if i brutally murdered that guy. what if i cannibalized that guy while pretending he was jeremiab." (i got this idea from the first episodes of hannibal, yes. the whole "i killed them so i wouldnt kill you" thang) and so he does, and as he rips the heart out he has an idea "what if i mail this heart to jeremiah, how would he react? would he be horrified? i hope so." so he put it in one of those heart shaped boxes for chocolates and thehhrehes his valentine <3

also, how he became a werewolf: same reason gregor samsa became a bug, god said "why so creatureous?" and turned him into wolf becasue

[cdyssey]

Abbott 2.14 Thoughts:

Finally have time to watch the new ep!! The conference has been great so far, but I’m glad I can just decompress for the rest of the evening.

“Don’t listen to what the eighth graders say about the way you dress. You are making a fashion statement.” AKDNSNS, I love the way that Jacob is always there for Janine. Their friendship has subtly but so genuinely evolved from from S1 to now.

JANINE’S SISTER!!!!!! AW, Ayesha is so cute. Oh, my God, Janine’s very erroneous and self-revealing side-comments about her. (Girl, I want to study you under a microscope.)

Jacob explaining his and Zach’s happiness and LISA clearly breaking.

The idea of Mel taking herself out to a steakhouse all alone. Oh, my God.

Barb and Ger!!!! I think it’s very charming that they’ve both been too preoccupied to really plan anything? That’s the sort of detail that feels true to some long-established couples?? My parents, who are in their seventies, don’t really plan anything either. They just sort of remember it’s Valentine’s Day and then go grab a steak, lol.

QKQJSNSSN, BARBARA ASKING ABOUT AMBER LIKE THAT. I love when the work wives are work moms.

Melissa having her glasses in her mouth for the rest of that scene.

“He looks like men do before they have kids.” OOQJWNWJDDJAJISDJS.

“… because if you think about it, underpaying a white teacher to teach Black history is almost reparation.” GHEEJDID. They give Ava the goddamn best one-liners.

Donnie: “I need a woman.” THAT KID’S LOOK AT THE CAMERA WIWNDNE.

Ava looking invested/putting down her phone as she listens to Jacob… 🥺

Barb being so excited about the airplane date is very cute. Also, Cibo Bistro is an Italian place, so that’s a tiny Work Wives win if you really think about it and put ur clown nose on.

Mel’s mind jumping straight to cheating. God. That’s the suspicion of someone who has been cheated on before and utterly hurt by it.

WAH, BARB NOT KNOWING SHE HAS TO BUY A PLANE TICKET. SEA BARBARA!! CRUISES ONLY.

Janine going to Mel for advice. 😭 I love work mom moments.

“That’s puppy love, Dolittle. It’ll pass.” This is a very cute line, but if I really wanted to, I could write the angstiest gd fic about “It’ll pass.” <3 *Twirls hair. owo*

JACOB SPILLING THE SECRET EEJFNEN. Janine’s expression as she digests this information—dear god, the utter vulnerability and confusion of it.

“Only a handful of them do. Say, like, 30% to 60%.” ajwjweAhqsjs.

Ava still observing Jacob. LISTEN, pls tell me the plot line is that she’s actually enjoying learning. I will start sobbing.

“Like an anti-racist Icarus.” QIQJWNSENS.

QNWSNSN, EVERYONE IN THE TEACHER’S LOUNGE KNOWING ABOUT GREGORY.

“Although I think that workplace romances are a terrible idea” and Melissa nodding in agreement. I could also write terribly angsty fanfic abou—

Barb: “But you do like him, right?” Everyone being a Teddie shipper is so good and so right.

“Sweetheart, it is possible to like two people at the same time.” ON GOD, DID THAT JUST COME OUT OF BARBARA HOWARD’S MOUTH?!!

Janine tenderly and sadly imagining domestic intimacy with Gregory. I want to cry.

ZACH!! I love his fit. I love a good bomber jacket.

“Sounds like you’re actually enjoying learning.” YESSSSSSSSSSSS.

“I will kick your Jacob-loving Saint Valentine ass right out of this school.” AAkqjwwidj

“I never liked school. It got in the way of college.” QOQKQNS.

“No offense.” / “None taken.” Goddamn, this show is so funny.

I love that Ava is sharing this vulnerable moment with Zach, tho, and I love the fact that he immediately is able to intuit what the difference is. Ava has grown and matured since her younger days, and she’s continuing this journey every day. The same principal who misappropriated school funds to buy a sign of herself isn’t the one who’s sitting across Zach admitting to being invested in learning about Black history.

Janine thinking Gregory is talking about them. 😭😭😭 GOD.

LEGO flowers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Right pairing, wrong timing ships always get to me. Jesus.

“Well, people can like more than one person.” I love that this is the second time this has been said in the episode. The Abbott writers know relationships and people are messy and complicated. It’s never about neatly partitioned feelings when you really love someone.

AVA MAKING THEM TURN AROUND. AVA GOING BACK TO SCHOOL. SOBBBBBBINN G!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM SOBBINNG!

Ava standing up for Jacob!!!!!!!! I fucking love that!!!!!!!!!!!!

I’m very not fashion-aware because I had to go look up the value of a Telfar bag ANSDNS.

JANINE NOT KNOWING EITHER WIWNDSNNW. Solidarity. I love you, ma’am.

LMAO, Mo and Amber are gonna end up together.

Not Gregory looking baaaaack.

BARBARA INVITINT MEL TO THE AIRPORT DATE. THIS IS ALL I’VE EVER WANTED.

“Oh, we don’t mind.” THIS IS MY WIFE, BARBARA, AND THIS IS MY WIFE’S WIFE MELISSA.

Barbara so tenderly worrying about Melissa, and Melissa gently shrugging the effort off because she wants Barbara to have a nice night. I love this ship that we have all collectively made up in our heads. <33

WRAP IT UP, FOLKS. WE GOT AN I LOVE YOU AND AN I LOVE YOU TOO, BARB. THAT’S ALL I NEED TO BE HAPPY AND CONTENT WITH MY LIFE. OH, MY GOD. MELISSA SAID IT SO CASUALLY.

And then the episode ended. <3 The end.

[sl-newsie]

Spelled (Carlos de Vil x Sanderson Daughter)- Ch. 14: All That And A Big Pointy Hat

I’m almost done with my goodness 201 class! Today we learned about doing declutter spells for the needy, and FG was pleased to give me an A after she heard about how I helped Ben.

“He came in yesterday telling me how good did with cleaning his room! I’m so proud of how far you’ve come, Magica!” She gives me a warm smile.

I thank her for her praise and quickly get back to my dorm to find Twilight waiting to greet me on my bed.

“Good cat, good cat,” I praise as I stroke the purring kitty. “At least you care.”

“What happened now?” Binx calls from the windowsill.

I sigh. “Ben apparently needs to tell Fairy Godmother every little detail of what magic I’m doing. Like they’re keeping tags on a criminal.”

“They only want what’s best for you.”

“Yeah, that’s what everyone says. Ben, my father… But what is best for me? To be constantly watched like a spider under a microscope? I’m not a child, Binx.”

“I know that. I must say, they are being rather skittish about you compared to the other magical students.”

I get up and wedge mother’s spellbook out from behind the dresser, then start to flip through it.

“What’s that for?”

“Something that might help me get out of this dreary place, or just something that’ll make life more fun. This mud spell looks promising. You know if I wanted to I could just put on my invisible cloak and slip out of here with no problems.”

Twilight gives a jabbing meow, and Binx nods. “I agree with Twilight. If you could, then why don’t you?”

After letting out an annoyed huff and slipping the spellbook into my pocket, I go over to look out the window next to Binx.

“Because that would mean I’d never get to see Carlos again. If I leave then the Royal Guard would look for me again, so I’d be on the run. Besides, it’s not only Carlos I’d miss. Ben needs all the help he can get, and I’m helping Jane to find new friends. I don’t love it here, but I don’t hate it either.”

Down below I see everyone else flocking to the dining hall, and I know I can’t put off any more time. 

After starting off towards the door, Binx asks: “Where off to now?”

“The Royal Advisor has to head off to lunch, and then attend a meeting with Ben to discuss the upcoming family day.”

“Good luck,” Binx says in a dull voice.

“Hm. Thanks.”

When I get to the dining hall I see that Jane has chosen to sit with Lonnie, Tiffany, and a few others, so I leave her to sit with her new popular friends and go to a table off in a corner. Looking around, most of the other tables are full. But I don’t see…?

“Hey, trixie!”

Jay and Carlos pop up behind me and trot around to plop into the seats across from me, and then Dude hops up next to Carlos.

“Mind if we join you?” Carlos asks shyly.

I shrug. “Sure, if you don’t mind hanging out with the goody-goody Royal Advisor who’s about as see-through as glass.”

“What do you mean?”

“Has Ben been acting strange around you guys?” 

Both boys shake their heads, then seem to rethink.

“Actually, he gets really dopey around Mal,” Jay thinks out loud.

I frown. “Strange… Not only that, but you guys seem to be hiding something too.”

Carlos scratches Dude’s ears. “Mal can be… very stubborn when she wants to be. She has a good heart, but her mom always discourages it. She probably won’t like me telling you this, but… I feel like you deserve a chance to rule the world with us.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m fine with Mal being the leader and whatnot. But it’s like she’s- wait. What did you say? Carlos, how are you going to rule the world?” My eyes widen.

Jay gives Carlos a warning look, but Carlos just glares back.

“If no one’s gonna tell her, I will!” He leans in and whispers: “We’re going to-”

“Well, if it isn’t the freak and her freak friends!” Audrey cackles. She and Chad stride by and set their food trays down, giving us pitiful looks. “Aw, poor freak. All alone in a corner with more freaks. Shame that Jane’s popular now- you two were getting along so well!”

Way to rub it in, Audrey.

“Hey, um, foxie? Could ya scoot and leave us to eat in peace without having to hear your shrieking?” Jay asks in a pompous tone.

While Audrey and Jay get into a squabble, Dude starts distracting Chad by biting his shoes. Carlos watches me take out some magic powder from a pouch and dust it over some raspberries on my plate.

I take a quick peak at mom’s spellbook and chant: “With berries tart and red as blood, turn this dessert into mud,” I mutter as I sprinkle the crushed raspberries on top of Chad and Audrey’s pudding. Sure enough, the spelled berries dissolve into the chocolate dessert and turn it into a darker, thick substance. Mud. 

By now Audrey’s had enough of Jay’s behavior and drags Chad back to the popular kids’ table.

Jay gives me a wide grin. “Did ya get ‘em, trixie?”

I nod. “Sure did. Soon they’re gonna taste a mouthful of mud, and it ain’t mud pie!”

He holds his head back laughing and clapping his hands. “Nice! I’ll have to put that in my playbook!”

Sure enough, soon we all hear a muffled shout from across the room.

“Freak! You did this!” Chad spits the mud out while Audrey looks like she’s going to faint.

We burst out laughing and horribly try to hide it.

“Guess she’ll think twice before testing my patience again,” I say with a wicked smile.

For the rest of lunch the three of us talk back and discuss what our childhoods were like, with me telling them about life in Sherwood Forest and them telling me about life on the Isle.

“There’s no fresh groceries, no wi-fi-”

“And no dogs,” Carlos adds as Dude licks ketchup off his fingers. “Speaking of which, I’ve gotta go pick up his new jacket.”

Jay stands up and follows him out. “You seriously got your dog his own jacket?” 

I’m about to follow them, but then-

“Oh, Magica!” Audrey calls as she saunters back over with a box. “Before you go, I’ve got something for you! I saw this at a shop in town and thought of you!”

She hands the box over and I open it to find-

“Really? A black, pointy hat?” I mock her. A jet-black typical pointy witch hat.

She gives me a cheesy grin. “Yeah, it fits your vibe! Like you’re a witch!”

So… that’s how people really see me?

I try to stay calm and give the drama queen a stern look. “Only bad witches wear these. I am not a wicked witch, Audrey.”

She scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Of course you are! You’re not a fairy like Fiona or Bianca. Don’t tell me some random orphan just happens to have powers! Your mom was probably some magical old hag that wanted nothing to do with you.”

By now Tiffany, Fiona, and Lonnie have joined us, all with appalled looks.

“Audrey!”

“How can you say such a thing?”

“Come here, sugar.” Tiffany puts an arm around my shoulders and starts leading me out. “Let’s go someplace where there are more polite settings.”

When we get to the lunchroom exit I look down at the black hat I’m still holding in a stiff fist.

“Even if I was a real witch, how could Audrey be so- so… prejudice?” I say with a shaking voice. I’m not sure if I’m going to burst into flames or tears, or maybe both. But all I can do is try to remain steady so as to not cause a scene with my temper.

Tiffany shakes her head at the hat. “Sugar, you don’t have to keep it. Would you like me to burn it in the kitchen for you?”

I shake my head. “No. I’m going to keep this, and wear it tomorrow so I can show Audrey I am not a wicked witch.”

“Are you sure? Wearing this might just prove her point.” 

My face is seething. “I will wear this, and will not be shameful of it-”

“Because it will be the most fashionable thing you ever wear!” Evie appears behind me and takes my hand, dragging me away. “Ignore her. I changed your look before, I can do it again! We’re about to show that drama queen that you can make anything look beautiful!”

She tugs me into her and Mal’s dorm, and takes the hat from my firm grasp. After analyzing it for a few seconds, she goes to her desk and pulls out a jewelry box. Evie digs through multiple drawers until she picks out some silver rhinestones, glitter, and black lace.

“Here. Just give me a minute, and this boring old hat will be as good as new!”

I just nod and sit down next to the window, watching everyone below with a glazed look.

“So, have you thought about telling Carlos?” Evie asks.

I shake my head. “No. Again, I’ve got enough to worry about without balancing “true love” on my plate.”

“But you deserve to find someone who makes you happy!” The blue-haired VK gushes.

“Says the one dating a dumb jock just so she can find a prince,” I reply smugly.

Evie waves it off. “It’ll all work out, you’ll see.” She stands up and walks over, holding the hat behind her back.

“If you say so.”

“Shush! Now, close your eyes!” She says in a sing-song voice.

I arch an eyebrow, but do as she says. I feel her press the hat into my hands.

“Ok, open ‘em!”

When I open my eyes, I no longer see the cruel stereotype the hat used to be. Now it’s covered with rhinestones at the base, sprinkled with glitter, and has a black lace bow.

My jaw drops. “Evie, this…”

“And the lace comes down to become a veil, just in case you don’t want to deal with people.” Evie claps her hands.

I rotate the hat and my smile grows. “I can’t wait to see the smile disappear from Audrey’s prissy little face when she sees how wonderful you made this hat look! Thank you so much, Evie!” 

“No problem! That’s what you get when you’re friends with VKs.” 

[sharraus]

now talking just to talk. can you rank your favorite circle members? i'm curious

Okay that's... genuinely hard xd BUT I made you a non-definitive list. don't take it too seriously, some of them switch places based on how good/shit of a day I'm having or what mood I'm in.

Stephen Herondale - I just think this particular Herondale fuck-up is fun. He's such a shitty person, I will put him under a microscope to find some semblance of redeeming qualities.

Robert Lightwood - Love me some complex character! He's a bastard and I love him.

Hodge Starkweather/Céline Montclaire - I headcanon them as the youngest of the entire Circle. They're just straight-up tragic children I want to protect both of them. Hodge's punishment was so shitty when compared to the Lightwoods, he can have a little treason, as a treat.

Valentine Morgenstern - The Bastard. The Piece of Shit. The Motherfucker. I want to study him. I wish he was a better person. He's such a bad friend, terrible parabatai, awful husband and an incompetent parent. I kind of want to fix him.

Michael Wayland/Maryse Trueblood - strong neutral. I love both of them but they don't particularly stick out. Michael deserved better. I die a little every time I remember Maryse had a brother and what his story was.

Lucian Graymark - I love Luke and his entire story but his attitude pisses me off. I will poke him with a sharp stick until he starts acting like a decent friend.

Amatis Graymark - I don't have strong thoughts on Amatis but I am sorry about what Stephen did to her. On the other hand, she was awful to Luke when he became a werewolf. She's this low because I really don't think about her much.

Jocelyn Fairchild - She just annoys me for some reason. I kinda wish she remained kidnapped for longer.

I have a strong feeling I'm going to look at this list tomorrow and bang my head on a wall over the ranking.