#to say yes i have been accepted by a university no i am not lying to you to enter you beautiful country for nefarious purposes

[moinsbienquekaworu]

Got my CAS!! Finally!! Tonight it's Visa Time™ <3

[juustokaku]

Unzipped - Mingi x f!reader

Summary: Your new boyfriend Mingi wants to prove you he can be as sexy as San.

Genre: fluff, tries to be funny, jealous and insecure Mingi

Pairings: Mingi x f!reader

A/N: My best friend wanted me to write a fanfiction of Mingi, so I thought I'd share it here as well! Not that good, I wrote it in pretty short time, but at least my friend liked it <3 This has a brief mention of OnlyFans and flashers, but nobody in this is one!

Word count: 1 756

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Mingi might have not remembered to lock the door when he left his apartment, or to take the food out of the oven, or even pay for the groceries until there were guards running up to him; but those were all insignificant things in life. The important thing was you. Everything else was only useless information in his eyes, but he wouldn’t forget any little detail about you, even if he tried to. 

That’s why he had quite a peculiar outfit on.  

As Mingi checked himself out from the mirror, his mind was tangled in anxious thoughts. Would you like how he looked? Would you think he was your type now? Would you burst out laughing at him? 

At the possibility of you making fun of his outfit, he pulled the leather jacket a little more over his bare chest, feeling insecure. He wasn’t used to dressing this revealingly, but the echo of your words was still clear in the little memory bank of his head. 

“Wow, San looks so sexy,” was what you had said five months ago, when you saw a picture the said man had posted on his Instagram. 

In Mingi’s opinion, San’s pictures seemed like they would fit better on OnlyFans. Or maybe he was just a tad too jealous at you calling San sexy. 

Mingi had deluded himself into thinking your type was sensual men in little to no clothing. Although you had started dating him a few weeks ago, stubbornly, he refused to forget your comment about San and believe he, his unique self, was your type. 

He took off the jacket and flexed his biceps, which were prominent and good-looking, but cringed at himself, noting that San’s muscles were even bigger. Mingi’s plans of showing you, how hard he had worked to be your ideal type, went down the drain; how could he compete against San? 

You wouldn’t like if Mingi arrived to the mall with a discouraged and depressed look on his face, so to get into a more energetic and happy mood for you, he started dancing to the music playing on his speakers while his tight, black pants almost ripped around his butt. Yes, it was that big. His greatest weapon at beating San. 

“I am sexy. I am Y/N’s ideal type. I am better than San and everyone,” Mingi tried to manifest. If he could say those things out loud, it was possible they’d come true as well. 

Apparently, universe hated him, because the moment you saw Mingi, you gasped in horror instead of awe. 

“Mingi! It’s way too cold for you to be out here without a shirt!” 

It was late autumn. Colorful leaves had left the trees long time ago, turned brown on the ground, and given space for the freezing wind to make fools like Mingi, who wanted to impress their girlfriends, shiver. 

The man pouted at your words, “I’m not cold. I was at the gym before this so I still feel hot.” 

Mingi felt a little bad about lying; he was indeed very cold, and he definitely hadn’t been at the gym. Instead of lifting weights he had tried to lift his own spirits up at home. 

“Besides, I have a jacket on,” he continued. 

A little chuckle escaped your lips despite your worry for Mingi’s health, “Hun, that means nothing if you keep the jacket unzipped.” 

“I can take the jacket completely off and show you that I don’t get cold,” Mingi suggested, already starting to take off his garment. A little hope flickered inside his chest, that with this excuse he could show his upper body, and you’d fall head over heels for him. He just couldn’t accept that you already loved him, just as how he was. 

“No, don’t do that! You’ll get sick.” 

You pulled the jacket back on him, the tips of your warm fingers brushing against his cold chest. He may have been freezing but your touch warmed his body, especially cheeks, up instantly. 

He would have rather worn his light pink sweater that would have matched the blush on his cheeks but he had hoped to impress you. But now, he had only managed to impress you with how stupid he had been to go out without a shirt. 

“Come. Let’s go buy you a shirt,” you pulled on the sleeve of Mingi’s jacket, to make him follow you inside the mall you had been standing in front of. Some teenagers had been snickering at the lack of Mingi’s clothing while older people gave him dirty looks. 

Mingi couldn’t care less about other people’s reactions, but when you pulled on the sleeve instead of his hand, he felt devastated. He had known this would happen; you hated his outfit so much, that you didn’t want to touch him anymore! 

He followed you into his favorite clothing store, overjoyed that you remembered what he liked. The love he had for you was so big, that every little thing you did to remind him you loved him too, made him almost want to jump around. He couldn’t do that though or his pants would surely rip. 

“Look at this shirt! This would suit you well,” you took a shirt with a picture of a duck on it out of the clothes rack to show Mingi. 

The shirt was absolutely adorable, but the man just shook his head. Deep in his heart, he wanted to throw the shirt on his body and feel comfortable and warm again, but he was not going to lose to San’s overflowing sexiness you seemed to love so much. Ducks and other cute things would be long gone, when Mingi finally emerged as a butterfly of sultriness from his casing. 

“It’s not sexy enough.” 

You frowned at Mingi’s words, “Is something wrong? You have started dressing in sexy clothes out of the blue, risking your health at the process.” 

Mingi puffed out his chest, “I’ve become a man.” 

“You’re 25 years old. You’ve been a man for quite a long time already.” 

At every word you said, Mingi’s felt himself deflate a little. Couldn’t you see how sexy he was now? He started feeling even more insecure in his choice of outfit. His jacket looked cheap and was way too thin to keep him warm. The pants felt too tight, like the blood circulation on his legs had been cut off, making him dizzy. 

“Can we eat something? My head’s spinning.” 

Your eyes softened at his soft plead, and you agreed. 

But even inside the small cafe at the mall, his behavior was odd. 

Oh, how hard Mingi tried to charm you. He just needed the reassurance that you found him more attractive than San. Any compliment would be better than your total ignorance of his diligent attempts to get your attention. 

"Mingi, stop undressing.” 

Mingi felt like crying at your words. He had just tried to take his jacket off to reveal his chest to you. Thinking it was a good excuse to take the piece of clothing off politely, when he had to sit down, he had been proved wrong. If he got a tattoo of your face on his chest, would that make you want to see him? It would have been actually very romantic in Mingi’s mind. Carrying your beautiful face on his chest, like it was the greatest masterpiece known to man, would be an honor. 

“You’re acting like a flasher. There are children here, you know?” you spoke in a hushed tone. You were both still sitting at the cafe, and it would ruin the atmosphere for everyone if you declared Mingi’s weird actions to the whole world. 

“B-But I just wanted to show you I can be sexy too...” Mingi murmured, looking down in shame. He had completely embarrassed himself in front of everyone, not to speak of the awkward feelings he had definitely caused you. 

The moment of silence, that followed his words, made him just more convinced that you hated his guts. There was no way you wouldn’t leave him right there and then.  

Even your confused voice didn’t make Mingi to raise his head. He didn’t want to see the disgust in your eyes. You surely thought he was repulsive and worst of all – not as sexy as San. 

“What makes you think I don’t see you as that?” 

“Five months ago, you called San’s picture sexy,” Mingi sighed sadly, “But you haven’t called me sexy at all.” 

He was almost offended as you laughed. It was not a mean laugh, but he still felt ridiculed and confused, because he didn’t know if you were amused by the stupidity of his jealousy or the possible inaccuracy of his insecurities. 

“Hun, I thought it was obvious that I think of you as sexy.” 

Mingi raised his head hopefully when he heard your words. 

“You’re the sexiest when you’re comfortable and not on the brink of freezing to death, no matter what clothes you wear,” you assured him, looking straight into his eyes with an amount of love that almost scared Mingi. 

He found new confidence at your words. They excited him, making him suddenly feel like he was the most attractive man on Earth, beating San’s muscles effortlessly. If you thought he was good-looking then surely, he had to be. 

An arrogant look crossed Mingi’s face. The way his other eyebrow raised almost as high as his ego and he smirked made him look like the ultimate chad – which was not as sexy as he probably thought it would be. Nevertheless, you didn’t tell that to him. 

“What if I want to keep using these clothes? They make me feel pretty... scrumptious,” Mingi chuckled, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“The pants look nice. They accentuate your butt well,” you decided to ignore his prideful attitude which had suddenly emerged. At least, he was happy now, and that was what mattered the most to you. 

“Oh yeah? You like my butt? I’ll give you a 360 view!” 

As Mingi jumped up from the chair in excitement, ready to turn around and show his body and outfit in all their glory, a loud sound of fabric ripping reached your ears.  

It was the sound of his tight pants having given up. Mingi had hoped to charm you with a revealing outfit, but the new state of his outfit might have been too revealing, as his boxers greeted the outside world happily from the rip on his pants. 

“Do you still want to give me that 360?” 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------Thank you for reading!

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 47

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words: 7K

Masterlist

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Saturday, February 6th; 09:15 AM -  Ona's Room

I wake up to rather pleasant caresses on my back. The tips of her fingers slowly and repeatedly glide along my spine. I savor the moment without opening my eyes, afraid that it might fade away.

"You know, I can tell you’re not sleeping anymore," Lucy murmurs with a hint of amusement.

I hum softly, vibrating against her chest in time with her chuckles. I tighten my hold on her as I stretch my limbs, finally fluttering my eyes open to adjust to the daylight. I realize I forgot to close the blinds last night. What a terrible host I am.

"Good morning," I mumble.

"Good morning, sleepyhead."

I smile at her response. Once I feel awake enough, I glance behind me but am surprised to find us alone.

"Is Joan not here anymore?"

"He went downstairs about fifteen minutes ago, I’d say."

"Did he wake you?"

"I was already dozing a bit," she admits.

"Oh, sorry about that," I grimace. "I should have warned you. He tends to wake up early."

"It’s all good," she smiles.

"Didn’t you want to go running today?"

"Not really. I might have gone if I had a guide," she jokes.

I chuckle at the idea that she might still expect me to join her. I’ve done enough of anything that resembles jogging. I enjoy the feeling after a run, but it’s been so long since I’ve done anything that I’ll just end up killing my lungs. Plus, running is Lucy's passion. As I’ve told her before, I love that we have different worlds.

"Looks like you'll have to wait until you're back in Manchester."

"It seems so, yes. I had a feeling you wouldn’t be motivated," she laughs as I sit up. "What are you doing?"

I glance over my shoulder, seeing her genuinely curious expression. I smile and respond as if it’s obvious:

"Well, I’m getting up."

"Why? Come back," she pleads with a whine.

A small yelp escapes me as she pulls me back down, then pins me by half-lying on top of me. Her laughter echoes in my ears, making me smile. It’s true that we’ve stayed in bed a little longer these past couple of days, but I didn’t expect it to continue. From what I know, Lucy is someone who wakes up early and doesn’t like to linger in bed.

"I was just keeping my distance before. In reality, I’m someone who loves spending time in bed with her girlfriend."

"Really?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Mmhmm," she smiles. "So, can we cuddle?"

"If you ask so nicely."

My laughter is muffled by her lips capturing mine for our first morning kiss. I bite my lip when she continues kissing down my neck. I almost reopen my wound when she starts gently nibbling on my skin.

"Lex," I whisper, gently pushing her shoulders.

"Weak spot, Miss Batlle?" she teases after a final kiss on my neck.

The smile she gives me as she looks at me makes me melt. So this is the real Lucy, the one she’s hidden from me until now. I blush, trying to hide my face with my hands, but Lucy pins them down on either side of my head, laughing.

"I’ll take that as a yes. This kind of wake-up call is much nicer, isn’t it?"

"I could get used to it…" I reply, still blushing.

"Relax. I won’t do it again if it makes you uncomfortable."

"No, it’s okay... It was... nice."

She smiles at me before resting her head on my shoulder. I take advantage of the moment, being the one who gets to hold her for once. My hand plays absentmindedly with her hair as I reflect. It really was nice. I need to learn to relax. I’ve already accepted that Lucy is the only one who can help me, and it seems that’s truly the case.

"Do you remember the weekend in the Alps we wanted to spend with my friends?" she breaks the silence.

"The one I ruined because I got sent back to class?"

"Indeed, that’s the one," she giggles.

She props herself up on her elbows to look at me. I feel embarrassed just thinking about it. I had felt so guilty for canceling her plans. Plus, it was a rare opportunity to get closer to her at the time.

"I remember, yes. Why do you ask?"

"I might have changed my mind about you coming with us," she tells me, letting her fingers trail along my stomach.

"Oh, really...? Is that still happening?"

"Yeah. We’ve rescheduled it for a week during the next school break since I couldn’t make it the first time. I’d like you to come with me."

"And how would I get there? You’ve already planned everything, right? Aren’t you all flying?"

"No, we’re driving there, and as for the room, I’ve reserved one with a double bed. I’ll just need to notify them of your presence to adjust the price..."

"You realize that means we’ll be sharing a hotel room for an entire week?"

"Of course," she smiles. "I want that, or I wouldn’t be asking. The only question is whether you want it too. If it helps, I heard Alexia will be coming as well."

"Really?" I ask, surprised.

"Mmhmm," her smile grows. "Jenni wanted to bring her along for once. And Ingrid will probably invite Mapi if their relationship has evolved and she knows you’re both coming."

"You’ve thought of every argument to make me say yes, huh?"

"I want you to come. We need this, and we won’t have a better opportunity to spend time with all our friends together."

"You know, my answer was yes from the start, but I appreciate that you’re still trying so hard to convince me."

"You idiot."

We laugh together before she rests her head back on my shoulder.

"Speaking of Mapi and Ingrid... Do you think they’ll be okay?" I ask.

"Why wouldn’t they be?"

"I don’t know... I haven’t really had time to follow their relationship... So I’m worried about Mapi."

"I’m not worried about them. They both have commitment issues, but Ingrid will take it in stride and reassure her. She wanted a new relationship. To be honest, I think they’re made for each other."

"I hope so..." I murmur, staring at the ceiling. "Mapi has reasons to be scared, you know. Her parents didn’t exactly give her the best love possible. And as for her romantic relationships, I dumped her like an old shoe, and her ex cheated on her with my ex, so..."

"You still care about her a lot to be so concerned, huh?"

"We’ve been through a lot together, so yes, of course. But tell me... I had the impression you didn’t like her that much. How come you talked to her when we weren’t on good terms?"

"You’re exaggerating. It’s not that I didn’t like her, I just thought she had a bad influence on you. And, I guess I was jealous of your relationship in a way..."

"Thought?" I repeat. "So you don’t think she’s a bad influence anymore?"

"No," she sighs. "When you stopped writing to me, she started harassing me, lecturing me. She was afraid you wouldn’t recover. That’s when I realized how much she cares about you. Sure, she drags you into her crazy plans, but she’ll always take care of you..."

"I’m glad you understand that... Mapi is really amazing, if you only knew. We support each other a lot because we know everything about each other, but you have nothing to be jealous of. Sure, she’s my ex, and we’re very close, but..."

I shrug, smiling softly.

"If we wanted to get back together, we would have done it a long time ago. If I had to describe her to someone, I’d say she’s my best friend, or even the third daughter of the family since she’s always hanging around here when I’m here," I chuckle.

"I know," she smiles. "You know what really feels strange to me? That your ex is dating my best friend."

"Put that way, it is indeed very strange," I laugh. "At least it’s no longer ambiguous between us. Well, Mapi did kiss me not too long ago, but believe me, she quickly regretted it," I giggle.

- "What?" She furrows her brows, sitting up. "She kissed you?"

- "It was nothing crazy," I reply with an amused smile. "It happened during Christmas break. She had just been dumped and needed some affection. She regretted it the second she realized what she had done, if that makes you feel any better."

- "Hmm... And I'm supposed to not worry about her or the fact that her stuff is still in your room? I doubt you'd like it if you found my ex's things in mine, or if you knew one of them had kissed me."

I wince at the thought. No, definitely not. If I were in her shoes, I probably would have thrown them out the window and lost my cool.

- "She'll move all her things out if that's what you want."

She giggles, burying her head in my neck. Her nose brushes up and down along my neck.

- "No, of course not. I was just teasing. But let me tell you right now, if we ever live together, she's not allowed to infest our apartment with her stuff."

- "It's a promise," I chuckle.

- "Now I'm reassured," she jokes.

- "So, what about Ingrid...? Are they really in love with each other?"

- "Especially Mapi. You should see the messages she sends her. Ingrid showed them to me. They were super cheesy."

- "Oh no, please... She didn't do that?"

- "She did," she laughs. "I had no idea she was such a hopeless romantic," she adds sarcastically.

- "I can't believe it," I giggle.

Having known Mapi in a relationship, I can say she's far from good at writing mushy messages. I used to laugh at the ones she sent me, even though I never told her. Expressing her love wasn't her strong suit, but it was really sweet and adorable that she tried. I'm glad she's comfortable enough with Ingrid to send her those kinds of messages. It seems like she's finally found someone good for her.

- "And you know," Lucy continues.

- "Hmm?"

- "Mapi really helped change my mind about us. It's partly why I trust her more now. Even if that whole thing with Korbin hadn't happened, I would have come to see you to talk about our relationship. I just couldn't stand the distance between us anymore."

- "And what did she say to make you change your mind?"

- "Ah, that's a secret," she giggles, stretching. "Anyway, we should get up. The girls are probably waiting for us."

- "I doubt it."

- "You'd be surprised."

She kisses my cheek before heading to the bathroom. I raise an eyebrow, wondering if she's right about the girls. I'll find out soon enough. Lucy returns quickly, the only difference being that she's swapped her shorts for sweatpants, and her hair is now gathered in a messy bun. I bite my lip at the sight. She doesn't seem to notice as she heads to her suitcase to pack her clothes.

- "Why were you so upset after your last breakup?" I start a new conversation. "You never really talked about it."

We've talked a lot about Mapi and Feli, so I suppose it's okay to talk about her ex. Lucy pauses in her movements.

- "Are you sure you want to know?" she asks, running a hand through her hair.

- "Of course," I say, sitting up to pay more attention.

- "Okay. Do you remember that girl at the bar, the day I rejected you?"

- "Yes...?"

- "That was her," she says bluntly. "Her name is Alex, and we were together for four months. I thought she might be the one. We spent a lot of time together during the summer. In the end, she reacted like the others when I went back to work and blamed me for my lack of commitment. She wanted more, and I wasn't able to give it to her."

- "I see... Is that why you were scared for us?"

- "Partly, yes," she sighs. "I was afraid of making the same mistake with you and hurting you even more."

- "That won't happen. I'm not letting you go now that I have you. I'll keep chasing after you as long as you try to run away," I joke, making her smile.

- "Well, that's reassuring, I suppose."

I return her smile with a nod. She said I'm different from the others, and I plan to prove it. I care about her a lot, so there's no way I'm letting her go without a good reason. She hasn't let go of me yet, so neither will I.

- "Everything will be fine, I promise," I say.

- "I hope so.... Okay, now, I'm starving, so if you could get ready so we can go down."

I chuckle and nod. Before heading to the bathroom, I turn back to her.

- "Thanks for being honest with me. You were right about communication being important."

- "I'm always right, babe."

I laugh as I close the door. I slip into some sweatpants as well, then brush my teeth and hair before we head downstairs. I realize I haven't yet seen Lucy's house as I watch her looking around. Then again, we did arrive pretty late.

- "The house is really beautiful."

- "Too big for my taste, if you ask me. I'll give you a tour later, if you want."

She nods with a smile. Mine appears as we enter the kitchen and see Samuel busy at the stove.

- "Hey, handsome," I say, making him jump.

- "Oh, damn! You’re crazy! I almost had a heart attack!"

I laugh at his fake stern look. He doesn’t look convincing at all, especially since he pulls me into a hug the next second.

- "You’re lucky I missed you, or I’d make you clean up this whole mess," he says, pointing at the now-disorganized counter, which is apparently my fault.

- "Oops... Sorry."

- "Yeah, sure... You don't mean it at all."

- "It's true, you're right," I giggle.

- "How are you? I heard about your adventures. I didn’t imagine it was that bad," he grimaces.

- "I’m fine. It was worse at first," I reply.

He smiles, understanding that I don’t want to dwell on it, and finally looks behind me. I turn to see Lucy watching us with amusement from the kitchen entrance. She approaches when I extend my hand to her.

- "My mom probably told you about her... This is Lucy."

- "So you’re the one responsible for all of this, huh?" he teases. "Nice to finally put a face to the name, Lucy. I assume I can call you by your first name?"

- "Of course," she smiles. "It’s nice to finally meet you, too. She’s told me a lot about you."

- "Not as much as she talked about you. You’re the only person whose name I remembered, given how many times she mentioned you."

- "Sam," I groan, hiding my blush in Lucy’s arms.

- "Aw, don’t be shy," she giggles. "It’s cute," she says before kissing my forehead. "As for you, she’s talked a lot about your cooking. It seems she’s starting to prefer mine," she adds, making him gasp.

- "Oh, really? I’ll remember that,  Ona."

- "Shh! You weren’t supposed to say anything! Now he’s going to be sulking all weekend."

- "Don’t worry. She did say I absolutely had to try your dishes," she tries to make up for it.

- "Hmm, sure," he smiles. "Well,  Ona, you sure don’t pick the ugly ones, huh? And that’s coming from the gayest person on the planet."

His comment makes me blush again. He’s really not holding back today. Luckily, Lucy finds it funny and thanks him for the compliment.

- "So, who made the first move? I want all the details!"

- "You’re not getting anything," I say just as Lucy points to me.

I give her a wide-eyed look and tap her hand.

- "Don’t tell him!"

- "Oh, it’s not a secret," she smiles.

- "So, it was you, Onita ? I never would have guessed."

"I’m full of surprises, what can I say. »

I wait for their laughter to subside before offering Lucy a coffee. She accepts eagerly, so I start making it for her while preparing my hot chocolate on the side.

“You’re lucky. This is probably the first time she’s ever bothered to serve anyone,” Sam teases.

“Are you done?” I groan at Sam. “You’re going to scare her away!”

“Not at all,” Lucy replies. “I like being the exception.”

I glance at Lucy, who’s seated on a barstool, watching me with an amused expression. The least I can do is make her coffee. When I’m at her place, she always takes care of everything for me. It’s not my fault that my mom hired people to handle the household chores. I’m just taking advantage of the chance to do something myself since Sam usually forbids it.

“Are the girls already up?” I ask.

“Yeah, they’re eating in the dining room with Joan,” he informs me. “I made pancakes and pastries.”

“Great, thanks.”

“Jo’s happy to see you again, you know.”

“I know. He slept with us last night. Was he too much trouble?”

“A little, but nothing we couldn’t handle. You should check in with him more often. He asks me almost every day if you’ve called.”

“I’ll try, I promise,” I reply, feeling guilty. “It’s just been complicated lately—between my broken phone and all the drama…”

“Oh, right. What happened with that? You’re not the type to mistreat your phone.”

“I threw it on the ground out of frustration,” I shrug. “Mom let me get a new one,” I say, pulling it out of my pocket.

“Well, make sure you use it.”

“I will.”

I take my mug out of the microwave and hand Lucy her coffee. She thanks me with a kiss, which makes me smile like an idiot. I could easily get used to these little gestures of affection.

“That’s sweet,” Sam grins. “Are you planning on coming back for the holidays?” he asks us.

“Maybe. We’ll talk about it,” Lucy answers before I can.

“Hmm… Well, we’re going to join the girls. Thanks again for breakfast, Sam. See you later.”

“See you later, girls.”

I lead Lucy to the dining room, which is not far from the kitchen. It’s my least favorite room in the house, but I might change my mind when we find Mapi, Ingrid, and my little brother chatting and laughing over breakfast.

“Ah! There they are at last,” Mapi says when she sees us.

“Ona!” 

I hand my mug to Lucy and pick up Joan. He kisses my cheek and then, surprisingly, does the same to Lucy. I’m not used to him warming up to strangers so quickly. I’m glad he’s reacting this way with Lucy. He even asks Lucy to sit next to him. I’m going to get jealous if this keeps up! So, I sit across from Ingrid while my brother takes the seat between Lucy and Mapi.

“How are you, girls? Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah… We had a good night,” Mapi responds.

I can’t believe it! Mapi Leon blushing? That’s a first! Lucy and I exchange a knowing look. It seems like everything worked out fine after all. To avoid teasing her further, I turn to Lucy.

“What would you like?” I ask, taking her plate.

“Pancakes, please,” she answers with a small smile.

I serve her as well as she did for me. After I’m done, I hand her plate back and grab a pain au chocolat for myself. Sam made them from scratch, so they’re the best.

“Any ideas on what we could do this afternoon?” I finally ask.

“We could show them around town since they’re here,” Mapi suggests. “And bring the little rascal along.”

“I’m not little anymore!” my brother whines.

“Aww, you’re almost as touchy as your sister,” Mapi chuckles, pinching his cheek.

“Hey!” I protest.

“Let’s not start this early in the morning,” Lucy intervenes. “But exploring the town sounds like a good idea.”

“It’s definitely more pleasant than Manchester. This town seems great,” Ingrid comments.

“We could go out to eat afterward,” Mapi suggests.

“Yeah. We should let Sam know,” I agree.

“Yep, you’re right! I’ll go tell him now.”

She doesn’t wait for anyone’s confirmation before heading to the kitchen. I smile as I see Ingrid’s eyes follow her, then she turns to me.

“Your best friend has a serious commitment issue, huh? I thought I had one, but she’s worse than anyone.”

“I’m not surprised,” I reply.

“If I hadn’t kissed her, we’d still be stuck. But once she’s on board, there’s no stopping her!”

“We could do without the details,” Lucy interjects. “Especially with a child at the table.”

“Oh, I’m only talking about some kisses, nothing more.”

“We’re happy for you,” I say.

“That’s it!” Mapi interrupts with a huge grin. “We’ve got the all-clear for lunch.”

I suppress my smile, noticing how euphoric she seems. Last night must have done her a lot of good.

“By the way, did you ask  Ona about the Alps?” Ingrid changes the subject.

“Just now. You’ll have to put up with me for another week,” I answer.

“You should be saying that to Lucy,” she giggles.

“Don’t worry, we’re getting along quite well so far,” Lucy replies.

“Absolutely,” I nod in agreement.

I smile at Lucy, who seems to be teasing me. I understand why when she brings a napkin to my chin.

“You really don’t know how to eat.”

I feel embarrassed as the others laugh around the table.

“Thanks,” I mumble when she’s done.

“You’re welcome,” she smiles warmly. “So, are you taking her with you?” she asks Ingrid, nodding toward Mapi.

“Hmm… I’m not sure yet.”

“Really?” Mapi says, looking disappointed.

“What? It’s not even been a day since we got together.”

“They haven’t been together long either!” my best friend retorts, pointing at us.

“That’s different. They’ve been hanging out and sleeping together for a while.”

“Pff. Fine. I get it,” she says, pouting.

It’s funny to see Mapi get upset over something so minor. I would probably act the same way if I didn’t know Ingrid was joking. This shows they still have a lot to learn about each other. Over my visits to their office, I’ve discovered that Ingrid has quite a playful side—just as much as Mapi. Lucy is probably right when she says they’re meant to be together.

“You silly thing. Of course, you’re coming with us! And it’s not a question, it’s a requirement.”

Mapi’s reaction is priceless. She’s always been so dominant with me; this must be a new experience for her. I hide my amusement as I continue my breakfast, enjoying Lucy’s hand resting on my thigh. I realize I’m the last one still eating, and I need to hurry if we want to leave soon.

Saturday, February 6th; 2:00 PM - Downtown.

I’ve never seen the town so crowded as it is today. No one expected this. I have to hold Joan’s hand to keep from losing him. He’s now nestled between Lucy and me, but at least this way I’m sure we won’t lose him in the crowd.

“It’s crazy; yesterday, there was no one,” Mapi comments.

“We could have stayed at the restaurant longer if we’d known.”

« Ona,” my brother calls, tugging on my hand. “Can we go to the pool instead?”

“The pool?” I frown.

“It’s a good idea; it could be fun,” Lucy agrees. “There’s no point in staying here, anyway. We won’t see anything interesting with this many people.”

"Do you have enough swimsuits to lend us?" Ingrid asked me.

"Well..."

"You promised we'd go again someday!" Joan whined.

I bit my lip nervously. The idea didn’t excite me as much as it did the others. I sighed, releasing the tension in my shoulders.

"I think I can find something if that's what everyone wants."

"Yessss!" 

Joan drew attention by jumping up and down with excitement. No one seemed to notice my reluctance, so I kept quiet to avoid dampening everyone’s enthusiasm. We headed back to the car. Hector had agreed to let us use one on the condition that either Lucy or Ingrid drive. I was slightly annoyed by this. Lucy offered to let me drive, but in the end, I let her take the wheel. I might have agreed if we were alone, but today wasn’t the case. We returned home to gather our things. Fortunately, I found swimsuits that fit Lucy and Ingrid. Once ready, we set off for the indoor pool that also had a water slide park, as requested by Joan. Mapi and Ingrid reacted like big kids to the idea. Unlike in the city, we were relieved to see that there were far fewer people here. Mapi was the first to rush inside with Joan. It seemed like they had really missed this. It had been so long since we last came.

"This place is huge," Ingrid commented.

"Yeah. There are plenty of pools to satisfy everyone, so it’s really cool."

We caught up with Joan and Mapi, who were already in line to buy our tickets. The place was so big that it didn’t feel crowded. I managed to get ahead of Lucy to buy our tickets, including Joan’s, since she had already paid for lunch. She didn’t like it, but it was my weekend at home. When we’re in Manchester, she’s the one who pays, so it’s only fair to return the favor. Once everyone was through, we headed to the locker rooms. Mapi and Ingrid decided to share a locker, so we did the same with Lucy and Joan. The three excited ones were the first to finish undressing. I was the slowest. Lucy must have noticed because she told them to go ahead. Unable to hold them back any longer, they even took Joan with them, promising to keep an eye on her.

"Is everything okay?" she asked once we were alone.

"Yeah..."

"I can tell it’s not. Do you want to talk about it?"

I sighed softly. I wish she had noticed earlier. Neither of us had removed much yet. We had just taken off our jackets and shoes.

"I’ve never... you know," I said, gesturing to myself.

I realized she didn’t understand when she frowned. I nervously ran my hand through my hair, feeling anxious about confessing this to her.

"You're the only one, besides Joan, who’s seen me in my underwear since what Feli did to me. No one else has seen my scars, and I don’t feel comfortable being this exposed anymore. Plus, I still have bruises from Korbin, and they’re not exactly pretty."

"Why didn’t you say something earlier?"

"I don’t know. Everyone was so excited to come here," I shrugged.

She gently cupped my cheeks, forcing me to lift the head I had lowered.

"You should’ve told me."

"It’s fine, really... I need to push through this sooner or later."

"You don’t have to do it alone. If you had told me you were uncomfortable with your body, I would’ve told you that you’re beautiful to me, and you always will be. No matter how many marks you have, they’re part of your story, and you shouldn’t be ashamed of them."

Tears welled up in my eyes. Why is she so perfect? She smiled before kissing me tenderly. The kiss deepened with so much love that it made my stomach flip. While I was distracted, she gently lifted my sweater and took it off before I could even process what was happening.

"If I have to help you love your body again, I’ll do it. In any case, I’m very happy to be the only one who gets to touch it."

The way her eyes devoured my torso made me blush furiously. She bit her lip to stifle a smile as her gaze slowly moved back up to meet mine.

"I’d feel more comfortable if you took off your top too," I finally managed to say.

She chuckled softly and, to my surprise, complied. How can she envy my little belly when she has such a sculpted body? For the first time, I took in the sight, lingering on her lower abdomen where her abs were slightly visible. Not to mention the tattoo that made her even sexier. I should have looked back up, but my eyes were glued to her torso. It was her laugh that snapped me out of it.

"Glad you like what you see."

"Oh God, look at you! How am I supposed to feel confident next to you?" I retorted, making her laugh.

"Start running again if you don’t like your body. You only maintain it with exercise."

"Is that the future fitness coach talking?" I asked, watching her take off her pants.

"Maybe."

"I’m already jealous of your future clients."

"Clients?" she laughed. "We won’t be in school anymore. But if you want, I’ll give you a special training session."

"Oh really? Like an intense workout?"

"No. Like a girlfriend workout," she said with a wink.

"Maybe we can negotiate then," I joked.

"Alright, enough teasing. Get undressed so we can go."

I grumbled as I took off my pants. Seeing her in a swimsuit had made me feel a bit more confident. My girlfriend is a knockout. To think she chose me when she could have any other girl. I neatly folded my clothes before Lucy closed our locker. She kept the key by strapping it to her wrist. She smiled at me as she held out her hand.

"Ready?"

I nodded, taking her hand timidly. Without giving me time to think, she led me toward the showers. Walking behind her, I noticed a new tattoo that ran the length of her back.

"Wow," I breathed.

"What is it?"

« Your back »

"Oh, right," she laughed.

"It’s beautiful."

« Thanks. » 

We reached the showers, where only a few spots were occupied. We managed to get two next to each other to rinse off before heading to the pools. As we exited, I looked around for the girls, but they were nowhere to be found. Knowing them, they had probably headed straight for the slides. I gasped when I no longer felt my feet on the ground. Instinctively, I kicked my legs, but it didn’t stop Lucy from cradling me in her arms.

"Hey! What are you doing? Put me down!"

"Nope," she giggled.

I laughed when I realized she was enjoying herself. She gave me a playful smack on the butt as she approached the nearest pool.

"No, please! Don’t do this!"

I begged, clinging to her neck. Her laugh was muffled against my shoulder as I squeezed her tightly.

"Hmm... What’s your offer to avoid it?"

"Anything you want."

"Oh really?"

"Yes!"

"Alright. I’ll remember that you owe me one," she laughed, setting me down.

I groaned, punching her arm.

"That was really uncool."

"Oh, don’t pout, please," she said, pouting herself. "Or I might actually throw you in the water."

"No! Besides, I want to find the girls before getting in the pool."

"The girls can take care of Joan if that’s what you’re worried about. I’d like us to spend some time together if we can."

I bit my lip, thinking over her suggestion. It would indeed be a chance to enjoy some time as a couple and also to get to know this new side of Lucy. I liked discovering new aspects of her. I groaned when she made an adorable face to try and convince me.

"Stop making that face."

"Please," she insisted.

I had nothing to worry about with Joan, right? Ingrid was an instructor at a private school, so I had no doubt she could be serious about her safety. I sighed, clearly giving in to Lucy, who started to smile.

"Alright, you win," I conceded. "Let’s spend some time together."

"Yes!" she said, lifting me up again, making me panic.

"No, no, no, please," I pleaded, struggling as she moved toward the pool steps.

"Relax," she giggled. "Hold on to me and just let it happen."

"No, please. I don’t like getting in all at once. And I don’t want to get my hair wet."

"We’ll get in slowly together. And as for your hair, either tie it up or wash it again tonight."

"Luce!"

She ignored my pleas and continued to move forward, dipping her feet into the water. I quickly tied up my hair with the elastic around my wrist. It didn’t matter if it got wet; I just hated having it loose in the pool. Apparently, Lucy felt the same since she had tied hers up before the shower. I clung to her neck as I felt the tips of my toes touch the water next.

"Slowly, please."

"I promise."

I managed to wrap my legs around her waist so she could hold me better. I pressed closer to her as the water reached my calves. I held my breath as it began to rise to my thighs. Lucy must have noticed because she giggled softly.

"The water isn’t that cold. »

- "Speak for yourself," I whispered into her neck. "I can be really sensitive to the cold sometimes."

- "Then keep clinging to me. I love it," she murmured teasingly.

- "It's not funny," I giggled.

I suddenly inhaled sharply when Lucy took a big step, causing the water to cover our legs.

- "Stop, stop."

- "Oh, come on. The worst part hasn't even happened yet."

- "Exactly! It's coming."

- "Then brace yourself."

I whimpered into her neck as she continued to slowly make her way through the pool. Her upper body was warm compared to the coldness of the water. She lowered herself so that the water reached our chests. I rested my head on her shoulder, pressing myself against her as much as I could. She must have gotten the message because she tightened her arms around me.

- "It wasn't so bad, was it?"

- "No... Never with you."

She kept moving until she no longer had to bend her knees. I slowly lifted my head so we could look at each other for a moment without saying anything. I appreciated our closeness.

- "Your wounds are starting to heal," she noted.

- "Yeah... I still have some scabs."

- "Maybe, but your black eye is starting to fade."

I closed my eyes as she gently touched it. The gesture was soft until she pressed on it. I groaned in annoyance, reopening my eyes.

- "Sorry," she smiled sincerely. "I'll put some cream on it for you tonight."

- "Thanks," I murmured.

I closed my eyes again as I rested my head on her shoulder. She really was perfect in my eyes. Just like this moment we were sharing.

- "I still can't believe it..."

- "What?"

- "Us. It’s hard to realize..."

- "I know. That's why we need to spend time together outside of school, so you can separate things."

- "Going back is going to be tough," I sighed.

- "It’ll all be over soon."

- "By the way... What will happen after school?"

- "We’ll go over the offer I secured for you. We'll have time to talk about it during the next break. For now, the most important thing is passing your exams."

- "Ah, there you are!" a familiar voice suddenly interrupted. It was Ingrid.

I turned to see her standing at the edge of the pool with her arms crossed. Our moment alone didn’t last as long as I thought.

- "Is something wrong?" Lucy asked.

- "We thought you were going to join us, not sneak off to cuddle!"

- "Hey there!"

We didn't have time to respond before we were attacked by two human torpedoes named Joan and Mapi. I groaned in frustration, now completely soaked. I was also forced to step away from Lucy when Joan slipped between us.

- "Did you go on the slides?" Lucy asked her.

- "Yes! We almost did all of them with Mapi and Ingrid. Don’t you want to try them?"

- "Later, we’ve got all the time in the world," she replied.

Ingrid distracted me by jumping in to join us. Joan took advantage of this to take my place in Lucy's arms. He had learned to swim this summer but didn’t like staying in one spot for too long. I didn’t have time to process their conversation before Mapi jumped on my back.

- "Get down, Mapi."

- "No way, I'm taking advantage while you’re back. Besides, your mom told me to take it easy on my leg," she joked.

I frowned, recognizing a half-truth in her statement.

- "Is that true? Why?"

I placed my hand on the scars on her knee, looking at her briefly. I was one of the few people, along with my mom, that she allowed to touch them. I always worried when she mentioned her injury since she rarely talked about it because it was such a hard experience for her. My mom had helped her a lot through it, so I never felt jealous of their close relationship. I was just glad Mapi had someone to support her.

- "The pain has come back."

- "Why didn’t you tell me sooner?"

- "Because it wasn’t that important. Hey girls, should we head back to the slides now that we’ve found you?"

- "Don’t change the subject, Mapi," I growled. "It is important."

- "I’m fine, I promise."

I sighed when she kissed my cheek before getting down to join my sister, who was starting to get excited about her suggestion. This gave Lucy the chance to return to me.

- "Everything okay?" she asked.

- "Yeah..."

I smiled at Ingrid, who was standing beside us. I realized she must have overheard our entire conversation.

- "Do you know what she went through?"

- "She vaguely mentioned it, yes."

- "You’re lucky. She doesn’t talk about it with everyone."

- "What’s the story?" Lucy asked.

- "I’ll explain another time," I replied. "Anyway, let’s go before we lose sight of them."

We joined Mapi and Joan, who were waiting for us at the edge of the pool. Joan was getting antsy. We headed to the slide area to make him happy. I’ve always loved the slides here. They’re very diverse. You can do them alone or with others. Some even have inner tubes. I have no doubt we’ll have a great afternoon, all five of us.

[mama-qwerty]

I debated making this post for a long time. Something's been eating at me for a while, and I couldn't figure out what until very recently.

So I haven't felt inspired to really work on my writing for weeks. The hate and anger being spewed toward the SCU in general, and the Knuckles series in particular, has really affected me more than I thought it did.

I came into the Sonic fandom by way of the movies. I love that universe, I love the characters, Knuckles being my favorite. My writing is primarily for the movieverse. That's what I'm comfortable with, and what interests me to really dig into.

Yes, I love game Knux. I've written some stuff for him, and that's great. He's fun to play with, too. But the SCU is where I 'live'.

I know the series is extremely polarizing. You either like it or hate it, and I get that it won't be everyone's cup of tea. I get that they did some things in it that were odd and didn't make much sense. I would have handled some things differently, too. It wasn't without its flaws.

But overall I found it a fun ride, and took it for what it was intended as - bonus content that likely won't have that much sway over anything upcoming in the movies. Not everyone will be able to see the show, after all, so they can't drop any major lore or additional stuff that's need to know for the rest of the verse.

I've seen more than one person claim that they hated the show so much they now hate the SCU in general. That Knuckles' portrayal was so different from what they were expecting, they're hurt and sad and angry about it. Totally get that. They feel betrayed. Understandable.

But what I'm feeling now is also a form of betrayal, because I felt accepted and welcomed into the Sonic fandom, and now that the SCU is viewed with such disgust and anger, moreso than before, I feel judged for enjoying it. I feel hurt and sad and angry that people are being so down on and dismissive of SCU Knux, a Knuckles I absolutely adore, simply because he's not being portrayed like he is in the games or other media.

Like someone came into a secret place I felt most safe and comfortable, took a look at something that made me happy, and sneered with a "You like that?"

I don't know where I'm going with this. I'm in no way policing what people can talk about, or saying they can't hate something I enjoy. I'm not saying they're not entitled to voice their opinion on something. They're as free to talk about it as I am.

But I'd be lying if I said this didn't bother me. More than I thought it would.

Maybe I'm being too thin-skinned, or over sensitive. Maybe I'm just sick of all the hate thrown around in general. Maybe I'm hoping that giving 'voice' to how I'm feeling will help me work through it and feel better.

All I know is that I'm feeling uncomfortable really engaging with a lot of the fandom right now, and it's making me really sad.

[lastoneout]

like real people do

Fandom: Pokemon Legends Arceus Rating: M Warnings: None Relationship(s): Professor Laventon/Captain Cyllene Word Count: 5,115

Summary:

During a late night at work, Captain Cyllene reveals to Professor Laventon that she's never been kissed. The two of them decide to do something about it. (A/N: This fic is only about 99% finished, but as it's been that way for several years now I figure it's time to stop keeping what I do have done all to myself. I've inserted explanations where the missing paragraphs are, so you should have all the context you need, there's just some missing prose.)

[The start was supposed to be something about two recruits getting caught making out and being punished for it, and then later that night, after everyone has gone home, Laventon and Cyllene are chatting and it comes up, at which point she says something about the recruits being careless or foolish, which leads into...]

"Yes, well," Laventon chuckles nervously, "the allure of such activities can pose quite the distraction at times."

Cyllene doesn't look at him, instead focusing on the papers in her hands, nimbly tapping the bottom of them against her desk and shifting them together so they fall into order with a satisfying thwhip, before placing them on the stack in front of her, all the corners lined up as uniform as soldiers, not a single page out of place.

"I wouldn't know," she says, the sentence as purposeful as her hands, not a word more or less than strictly needed in her usual clear, firm tone, though there is an unmistakable touch of something quite foreign to her voice—shame. 

Laventon's own embarrassment flares in response, and in his haste to correct his faux pas his words come in a veritable tsunami, starkly contrasting her concise reply. "O-oh, apologies Captain, I didn't mean to make assumptions! Enjoying things of that nature is far from a universal experience, t-theres hardly any reason to feel ashamed of not being interested, in fact, I'd say there's no reason at all-" 

"You misunderstand," she interrupts, "my inexperience is not due to a lack of interest on my part. There's simply never been anyone who reciprocates." 

That stops him dead in his tracks, his mind struggling with the idea that not a single person has ever found the Captain charming enough to so much as kiss, and before he can stop himself that doubt slips out. "Surely that's impossible-"

Her eyes at last meet his, her gaze sharp and cold, giving him the distinct impression that he's made an entirely different sort of blunder. "I don't make a habit of lying, Professor." 

"Of course," he agrees, calming his tone to hopefully convey his own honesty, "Of course, I apologize, that was insensitive of me. I've only ever known you to be truthful, I didn't mean to suggest otherwise."

Cyllene nods, silently accepting his apology. 

Still, Laventon has never been one to leave well enough alone—if he was he doubts he'd have lasted long in his line of study—and his disbelief fades into a strong flare of indignation, lashing out at the very idea that no one has ever deemed Cyllene worthy of their desire. "I just find it difficult to believe that you've faced such stark rejection," he continues. "Forgive me for overstepping, but anyone would be quite lucky to find themselves the object of your affection, Captain." 

A breath of silence passes between them as she searches his gaze, but before he can be sure of what she's looking for—or if she found it—her eyes drop to the desk in front of her and she politely replies, "That's kind of you to say." 

"I mean it! The people who have turned you down were surely fools. I wouldn't bother taking their misguided opinions personally."

"Indeed," she says, her tone barely on the courteous side of dismissive, and she stands, further signaling her disinterest in continuing this discussion. "Regardless of anyone's opinion of me or the reasoning behind it, I am incapable of fully understanding why a person would be so taken with desire that they ignore their duties, and even if I was, I doubt I'd agree. Aside from the separation of one's work and personal lives..." she pauses then, the first sign of uncertainty slipping past her ironclad control, "I imagine such activities would be better enjoyed when one has ample time to spend on them. Pleasure can be quite rare in this world, surely the haste and risk of interruption cheapens what I assume would be an otherwise pleasant experience."

Laventon nods, and while he knows it would be best to leave well enough alone, but the moment has left him flustered and anxious, and he can't seem to stop himself from rambling on in a hapless attempt to return to normalcy. "That is a fair point, though I can assure you, desire can be quite overwhelming at times, driving one to indulge in any spare moment they can.” He pauses, letting out a thankfully more composed laugh and shaking his head. “In truth, some even find the threat of discovery rather enticing in its own way.” 

"Again," she reiterates, her silent insistence that they drop the subject becoming decidedly less polite, "I wouldn't know." 

And yet, against all odds, he opens his mouth once more. "Well, it's not entirely impossible to change that, with the right help, of course."

Silence falls again, their faces both slowly turning red as the implication of his words settles over them, heavy and impossible to ignore. 

Laventon almost immediately wants to say something—anything—but the words at last refuse to come, dancing just out of reach as his mind sorts through the mess of emotions churning in his chest that only grow stronger and stronger with each passing second. 

He's embarrassed first and foremost, how could he not be, offering to kiss his Captain like some sort of lecherous fool? Even if he hadn’t meant anything disrespectful by it—he’s always been eager to make himself useful—it was still incredibly rude and he should absolutely apologize, but before so much as a simple “I’m sorry” can make it past his lips something else captures his attention, an enticing feeling disarmingly close to interest simmering under his remorse.

Would he be interested in acting on his accidental offer? Perhaps he would. Cyllene is quite beautiful, and a lovely person to boot. Even if it was just to help her gain experience, a friend helping a friend, kissing her...well, as he looks at her now lucky hardly feels like the right word. Perhaps offering in the first place was a senseless move, but backing out should she accept, that would truly be a foolish mistake indeed. 

"Forgive me, Professor," she starts, her words no less purposeful despite the uncharacteristic shyness weighing them down, "but do you mean to offer...?"

"Yes," he replies without so much as a moment's hesitation. 

"I see." 

Neither of them move, a strange, nerve-wracking, tempting feeling building in the air. Anticipation, like the crackle before thunder, or the second after one only barely dodges a pokemon attack. Unsafe, perhaps, but exhilarating nonetheless, and prone to leave one with a craving for more.

Still, despite his now quite ardent interest, the sense that he's made an ass of himself finally becomes impossible to ignore, and his practiced courtesy—as well as his desire to stay in the Captain's good graces—wins out. "Apologies, Captain, I don't mean to, t-there's no pressure, of course. I just, you deserve to experience things, if you'd like to, that is, and I- I'd be honored to be your first, or, uh- if you wanted me to h-help you-" 

Cyllene still doesn't respond, but that's not a yes any more than it's a no, so he firmly shuts his mouth, giving her the time and space she needs to decide.

And decide she does, just a moment later. "Alright." 

Laventon is too shocked to be anything but almost manically enthusiastic. "Brilliant! Well, there's no rush, of course, you just let me know when-"

"Now seems appropriate," she replies, seemingly ignorant of the contradiction of their setting—or, perhaps, it's more that she's stubbornly refusing to acknowledge it at all.

He almost points it out, but the building is empty and they're both nearly done with the day's work anyway, and he's far to taken to do anything but play along. "I couldn't agree more!" 

Cyllene gives him an odd, almost amused look, before coming around her desk slowly, each step closer making his heart race all the faster, until she's standing in front of him and his pulse is so intense he begins to worry he may pass out. 

Because goodness, she's far more beautiful than he ever noticed now that he's really paying attention, now that she's close, her face tilted up ever so slightly so she can maintain eye contact. He was wrong, he realizes, lucky doesn't even begin to cover whatever kind twist of fate has blessed him of all people with the chance to kiss someone like her. 

"As I said," she starts, her voice confident, yet quiet and intimate, a conflicting display that leaves him reeling, "I'm inexperienced, so I trust that you'll take the lead?" 

"Yes, of course. Leave all that to me." 

"Thank you. I'm ready when you are." 

Cyllene tilts her head again and lets her eyes fall closed, and while the angle is a bit wrong and there's a blush staining her pale cheeks he takes a moment to marvel at her nerve, envious that she can face something like this so fearlessly. 

He owes her no less than the same, he decides, and quickly brings a hand to her jaw to gently shift her face to the correct position before leaning down, his own eyes falling closed as his lips make contact with hers. 

It's slow, chaste—nothing more than a gentle bit of pressure—but his heart still skips a beat. She's warm, and so very soft, and though this isn't about him or a precursor to any other activities, he can't help the wave of desire that crashes over him, making him crave more.

He reminds himself to resist it. He's a gentleman—or at the very least a decent person—after all and Cyllene is his Captain as well as someone he considers a friend, he'd never risk ruining that bond by disregarding her consent. Besides, doing such a thing would sour the experience beyond salvage, and he already knows he wants to savor every second of this, commit it to memory so he can revisit it again as often as he'd like. 

His desire only grows at sight that greets him when he breaks the kiss; Cyllene's slate-blue eyes half-lidded as she gazes back at him, the blush on her cheeks far darker than it was before. 

Still, she's as honest as ever. "Interesting." 

"Interesting?"

"It wasn't at all unpleasant," she explains, "but I hardly think it's alluring enough to distract one at inopportune times." 

Even years later he'll struggle to understand exactly why he opened his mouth again, but that doesn't change the fact that he quickly replies, "Well, that was just a small kiss. The...distracting ones tend to be a lot more intense, to put it mildly." 

"I would assume they must be...still, I can’t imagine the difference is that profound." 

“I assure you, it is,” he chuckles awkwardly, face flushing, "though I must admit I’m not entirely sure how to describe it..."

Another beat of silence, and then, "Show me." 

"Oh!" he practically squeaks, feeling himself begin to drown in dual blinding panic and overwhelming desire to fulfill her request. "A-alright, as you wish. Just, uh, follow my lead, but do speak up if you want to s-stop, of course, and...feel free to- um, you know, take the reins, if you'd like." 

"Understood." 

Laventon keeps things simple at first, gently guiding her to move her lips against his while mostly closed, before finally parting his, heart hammering when she follows suit. 

He goes slowly, giving her as much time as possible to get used to things, but despite that less than a second after his tongue presses past her lips she lets out a shocked sound and jumps back, falling into a stiff stance nearly a full foot away from him. She tries to recover, or at least act natural, and nearly manages it, but the bright crimson blush coloring her face and the hand she's holding over her mouth betray her true feelings. 

"I'm sorry," he starts nervously, holding his hands up apologetically, "That's just um, how this s-sort of thing works..." 

"I know that," she practically snaps, letting her hand awkwardly fall to her side. 

He's not sure he entirely believes her, but either way he chooses to shoulder the blame. "Regardless, I should have warned you." She looks as if she can't decide if she agrees or not, so he continues, "Anyway, the last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable, Captain, and you've had a kiss now so, we can stop-" 

She shakes her head, some of her nervousness fading. "I don't want to stop. It was...simply an unfamiliar sensation, and it caught me by surprise."

"Are you quite sure? I don't want you to feel pressured-"

"I don't feel pressured, or uncomfortable, and I'm sure. If you're willing to continue, then so am I," she insists, starting to sound almost close to eager, and a fair bit more confident.

He nods. "Yes, I- um, I'm willing." 

Cyllene steps closer and tilts her head up once more, her stance more relaxed, though still guarded. "I'm ready." 

"Alright." 

This time Laventon tries to go even slower, to keep things progressing as naturally as possible, but in an apparent effort to maintain her composure she swings so far in the other direction that she hardly reacts at all when things move forward. It's undeniably awkward, leaving him feeling a bit like he's just poking at a statue, but soon enough she pushes past whatever is keeping her frozen and hesitantly moves in tandem with him.

It's still awkward, as she has no idea what she's doing, but the two of them have always worked well together and she's a quick study, and when she finally starts to get the hang of it the sensation that he lacked the words to describe begins to build up warm in his chest. It drives home how right he was, at least in his opinion, as even the slightest hint that she may agree to it would surely make the temptation to come do this with her at even the most inappropriate times incredibly distracting, to say the very least. 

And goodness soon distracting isn't even enough to cover it, because as the awkwardness fades and she becomes more confident, more bold—and almost desperate, needy, like she's waited her whole life for this moment and doesn't plan on passing up even a second of it now that it's come—his sense starts to leave him completely, the desire for more cementing itself firm in his chest. It makes his face burn and heart stutter and fingers flex at his side, barely resisting the urge to reach out, wrap her in his arms, and pull her close. If he can hardly hold his ground against that small temptation right now, knowing this was just on the other side of the door, waiting for him...heavens it would be like dangling water in front of a man dying of thirst. Far too cruel to even dwell on for long. 

Thankfully that train of thought is quickly swept away, because after a particularly arousing slide of her lips against his she suddenly tilts her head a bit more, letting herself get even closer, before reaching up of her own volition and gently resting her hands against his chest, her fingers hesitantly taking hold on his vest. 

It's almost overwhelming how instantly consumed by her presence he feels, and all at once he realizes that perhaps it's not just the kissing that he likes—though that is incredibly nice and she's becoming rather good at it unfairly quickly and it's sating his own baser needs exceptionally well—no perhaps what he truly likes is kissing her.

Just then, as if to convince him, she lets out a soft noise, something small right at the back of her throat, and leans in just a bit more, her fingers tightening their grip on his vest. It's beautiful, perfect, and for a moment the lustful desire gives way for pure, honest, burning affection. It's all the confirmation he needs. 

He likes her.

Oh, good heavens, he likes her. 

How had he not realized it before? They've known each other for years by now and have spent nearly every day together, surely he should have noticed that his feelings had drifted beyond platonic at some point. What point even was it? When had he started to appreciate her not as a coworker and captain, but as a companion? Someone he wanted around not merely because they share a common goal or mutual respect, but simply because it's her and things don't feel right if she's not beside him? Perhaps it all just happened so slowly, so naturally, that it hardly even registered until now, when it's finally right in front of him and impossible to ignore. 

Those people she spoke of, the ones who turned her down? They truly were fools. How could they not see how blessed they were? Laventon counts himself as fortunate just to share this moment with her, to be trusted so deeply that she isn't afraid to accept his help, to be able to stand close and truly take in how gorgeous she is, and yes, to kiss her, to hope that he's making her feel just as good as he does. To relish in it all, no matter how briefly, with a person he cares so very deeply for. If she even slightly returned these newfound emotions? He'd feel like the luckiest person alive. 

Pulling away is harder than it has any right to be, but when the time comes he manages, though he goes slowly, selfishly lingering in every last precious second until they're finally parted. 

"Do you understand now?" he asks softly, torn between staring into her eyes and gazing down at her lips, both sights overwhelming in their own way. 

Cyllene shakes her head, though he gets the distinct—and flattering—feeling that she’s chosen now to finally be dishonest. "It's...enjoyable," she explains, voice breathless and halting, "but I don't see how it's distracting-" 

Once again, he opens his mouth, caving to the desire to drag this moment out. "Well, admittedly, you t-typically get much- um, closer, than this..." 

"Closer?" she asks, a hint of urgency in her voice as she looks down at their bodies. They aren’t touching aside from her hands resting on his chest, but they’re still barely inches apart. 

"Yes." 

Cyllene wastes no time stepping forward until they're pressed flush against one another, forcing him to swallow nervously as his heart threatens to give out completely. "Like this?" she asks, meeting his gaze to confirm she hasn't misunderstood.

"Yes, s-sometimes or...almost." Because yes, often this is as close as couples bother getting, but no matter how much of her he has it's still not enough, and his eyes drift over to her desk beside them, though his voice one again fails him, as he's far too embarrassed with himself to explain. 

But she follows his gaze and puts the pieces together, and rather than be offended or embarrassed, she instead barely takes a moment to consider it before she steps past him and in one smooth movement hops up onto the thing, spreads her legs to make room, and yanks him close once more. 

"Like this?"

"Yes," he breathes, or tries to, anyway, it's become rather hard to pull in air past the overwhelming everything threatening to drown him completely. 

Cyllene lets the moment linger, her eyes dragging over his face, staring into his own eyes before drifting lower to his lips. "I can see how this is more intimate..." she admits quietly. 

"Indeed," he agrees, though as he continues his thoughts fight his attempt to put them into proper words. "I've found that the uh- the i-intimacy...it, well, a-accentuates the experience greatly." 

She leans a bit closer. "Would it be alright if I once again asked for your-"

"Yes," he interrupts, no longer caring how desperate he might sound. "I'd be happy to help." 

"Thank you." 

He waits with bated breath for her to close the distance between them once more, but she pauses, her gaze drifting up past his eyes. Her hand follows, delicately sliding along his cheek, tracing the edge of his hat before pushing past it ever so slightly, the tips of her fingers just barely grazing his curls. "May I...?" 

"Of course." 

“Alright,” she replies, before reaching up with her other hand to gently pull the knitted cap off his head and set it aside. 

Laventon flushes, feeling strangely bare without it. Not that he wears it for modesty reasons, it’s simply because he's always been more sensitive to the cold than the average person, but given the situation, he feels exposed and vulnerable. The feeling eases, however, when Cyllene's hands return to his head, one traveling up to run through his hair, the other cupping his jaw, her thumb grazing his beard. 

He can't suppress a sigh at the sensation, and he leans into her touch, letting his eyes fall shut. 

"Do you enjoy this?" she asks. 

He nods slowly, not wanting to dislodge her hands or discourage her touch. "Most people do." 

"I see." 

She continues her exploration, and she pulls her hand away from his hair before sliding it back through, this time grazing his scalp with her nails before making a loose fist and pulling ever so slightly. Despite how gentle it is he can't stop the small, appreciative whimper from escaping his throat, or his face from flushing bright red as it does. Thankfully she doesn't ask him to elaborate this time, though she certainly takes note of it, and she uses her grip on his hair to tug him into another kiss. 

This one is instantly far more heated than the previous ones, neither of them even remotely interested in going slow. Her hands move, wrapping around his shoulders, though she can't help but return to his hair, sliding her fingers up the back of his neck before slowly tangling them in the short curls there. It nearly makes him moan, but he swallows it back, only briefly concerned about how well she's pressing his buttons. 

The worry passes, however, as she next tightens her thighs around him ever so slightly, the pressure emptying his mind and cracking enough of his resolve that he finally touches her, letting his trembling hands come to rest on her sides, just above her hips. Even with the layers of her uniform between them he can tell she's warm and soft here too, but as good as it is it's not nearly enough, not anymore, and he can't stop himself from letting his hands slide a bit higher and then around to settle against the small of her back before using the leverage it grants him to pull her even closer. 

She seems to like it, breaking their kiss for just a moment to let out a soft, gorgeous gasp. He gets a quick look at her as she does, and his heart all but stops at the sight. In all the years they've worked together he's never seen her this disheveled before, her hair messy, face flushed, chest heaving, and it's so beautiful he almost—almost—wants to stop kissing her just so he can drink it in uninterrupted.

But then she closes the distance once more and he decides looking isn’t enough, no he wants to see if he can make it worse. Find out what she likes, exactly where and how to hold her, touch her, kiss her, and then dedicate all of Almighty Dialga's time to doing it right, giving her everything she wants until she's a shaking, trembling mess in his arms-  

All at once Laventon feels a familiar heat in his gut and tightness in his pants, and what little sense he has left breaks through the haze, his face burning as he realizes his body is well ahead of him on this one. Embarrassed panic quickly starts to overtake his mind as he prays to any god that's listening that she won't notice. Sure, it is only natural that he would find all of this incredibly arousing, but that's not what this is supposed to be about. It's about helping her gain experience, not his own idiotic lust, and he loathes the idea of her discovering how little control he has over himself and becoming uncomfortable—or offended—because of it. 

So he pulls away, faster than he probably should, but still slow enough that he can play it off as natural. Regardless she chases after him, her eyes only opening when that proves unsuccessful, and heavens, the look on her face—not offended or uncomfortable but confused, disappointed—nearly makes him cave and pull her back in. 

"Do you understand n-now?" he asks instead, thankful his breathlessness hides how nervous he is. 

Cyllene looks lost, her eyes clouded as they search his, and it takes her a long moment to process that this encounter is ending and actually answer his question. 

"This was...enlightening," she says, her flush darkening as she becomes more and more aware of how intense the two of them let things get. "I have much to consider..." 

It isn't a yes, but somehow makes him feel as if he's done a better job. “Well, I’m glad I could...be of service,” he replies clumsily, unsure of what else to say.

Her blush only grows more intense, and rather than respond she glances away and slowly loosens her hold on his vest. 

Laventon decides to keep quiet as best he can, as he’d rather not make things any more awkward than they already are, and instead he steps back and offers his hand to help her hop down from her desk. She takes it with a polite nod, and his heart skips a beat at the feel of her hand in his, the gentle pressure of her weight against him as she slides to the ground intimate in its own way. When she’s standing she turns her focus to her outfit and hair, hastily fixing both until she looks mostly presentable. He doesn’t bother putting his hat back on, as he feels more than warm enough without it, and simply shoves it into the pocket of his coat. 

Besides, the cool night air should help with his...situation. Speaking of which, he begins to panic anew, and in a rush to maintain some semblance of dignity, he hastily shrugs his labcoat off entirely, draping it over his arm and holding it close so the bulk of it hides his lower body from view. 

Cyllene gives him an odd look, but before she can put the pieces together he jumps in, “I suppose I should leave you to your night.” 

“Yes...and I should leave you to yours,” she replies slowly. “Thank you for humoring me, Professor. I appreciate your assistance, and your patience.” 

“It was my pl- or, u-um, I’m glad to help, truly.” 

“I also would appreciate your discretion regarding this matter.” 

“Of course! That goes without saying.” 

“Good.” 

Silence falls between them, and while Laventon knows he needs to leave, his feet refuse to obey him, followed closely by his mind, now once again caught up in his new-found feelings regarding Cyllene, namely how beautiful she is and how much he desperately wishes he could stay in her company a bit longer. Not even for lustful reasons--though that desire certainly hasn’t let go of it’s hold on him--no, he finds himself wondering what it would be like if they were a couple, if he was here not for...whatever this all was, but so that he could escort her home, or perhaps to their home. He’s not sure he could ever be so lucky, but the thought fills him with longing all the same. 

“Professor?” Cyllene asks, snapping him back to reality. 

“Yes! Sorry, I uh- lost my train of thought there for a moment,” he replies quickly, shoving away his useless fantasies. “Well, do take care on your way home tonight, Captain.” 

“I shall, and you as well.” 

“Certainly. Goodnight then, Captain.” 

“Goodnight, Professor.” 

He gives something between a respectful nod and a half-bow before making a combee-line for his office door, already planning to clean up and head home as fast as humanly possible, but he freezes in place when Cyllene calls out, “Professor, wait...” 

Laventon turns to face her, grasping onto the last of his composure as best he can. “Yes?” 

She takes a moment before responding, her eyes drifting to the wall behind his head, like she can’t quite bring herself to look directly at him. “If, in the future, I should...wish to gain further experience in this area, would it be alright if I once again asked for your assistance?” 

He nearly faints right there, only barely stopping himself from falling over or making a complete fool of himself by offering to immediately provide any assistance she might desire—either here or perhaps somewhere more private. 

“Of course,” he replies honestly, praying he sounds coherent, or at least not like the lustful fool he apparently is deep down. “I would be happy to help.” 

“Thank you,” she nods, finally glancing back at him. “Well then, goodnight...for now.” 

Laventon hangs on her last two words and all they imply like a lifeline. “Goodnight.” 

Cyllene nods once more before turning back to her desk, her hands nimbly gathering the last of her paperwork, and he leaves her to it, quickly ducking into his own office to do the same. 

He lets out a breath once he’s within the safety of his personal space and tosses his coat and hat over onto his kotatsu, no longer needing the protection they offer, but as he starts to close the door something stops him. He isn’t sure what, exactly, his mind is far too muddled to make sense of what he’s feeling anymore, but it leaves him standing there all the same, his shaking hand lingering on the doorknob. Perhaps it’s habit—after all, he tends to leave it open during the day—or perhaps there’s a finality to it that he doesn’t want to evoke, or...or maybe he simply doesn’t want to be parted from Cyllene just yet, even if only by a single door. 

He shakes his head, dismissing his racing thoughts and prying his hand off the knob, leaving the door cracked ever so slightly. 

[He then heads home and like Idk something something a few days pass and then Cyllene drags Laventon into a closet and makes out with him because she gets it now or something???? I genuinely cannot remember where I was going with the ending.]

[snowy-wife]

RRRRRRGGGGG HAPPY MOTHERFUCKIN ANNIVERSARY ERIC. I LOVE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH. I LOVE HIM SO MUCH. I know I have said it before but I have to say it again, I cannot believe Eric wants to be with me and likes me. I swear to god he is lying but I am really so happy and thankfully he likes me. I've always thought he would hate my guts and entire being because of how I am. Instead he likes my craziness and weirdness. He accepts me for who I am and calls me his "Creepy girl", he even calls me his "Cemetery girl" now after I showed him Cemetery Girl by ICP. Even though he's not keen on me being bisexual and into girls he still accepts me for who I am and loves me for me. Yes he can be a little homophobic but thankfully he doesn't go on rants about it and he has pushed it out of his mind, he told me "You're with me and like boys more so I don't care. Just don't talk about girls around me like that" and honestly, I respect his boundaries with that and I've always kept my mouth shut. I've said a girl is pretty but I've tried not saying things that would make him uncomfy. I also just have a disgustingly huge irrational fear of him hating me and it's been drilled into my head since I was like 5 or 6 years old. My love is so deep and strong for him it had me paralyzed as a kid when it came to him. I had to ignore his existence and act like I never loved or liked him, but it was so obvious I did and do. I just can't believe it's our anniversary. I really do love him so much. I love him so deeply and truly and it drives me insane. It makes me hurt myself and I hate it but I also love it because I love him so much that not only would I destory the world for him I would destory myself if he wanted. I would destory existence itself if he wanted. I also love how he is so eager to learn stuff about witchcraft and wants to constantly help out. He's always asking if I'm gonna do a spell or if my mom is, he's always so open and excited to learn about it and it makes me so happy. I don't know how many times I've cried because of how greatful I am I have someone I can share it with. He loves all the witchy and spirit stuff. Hell he loves being dead and being a spirit, he's told me it's cool and he really enjoys it but he also doesn't like being dead because he misses his mom and everything. He is so sweet and kind and loving and caring and I love it. I love how sensitive he is because he truly is a great lover and spouse. I love him so much more than what I can even grasp, what anyone can even grasp. I wanna talk about how much I love him but I can't find the words I just want to rant about how much I love him and talk about him– Like, I so very much love how he wants a traditional marriage with me and he wants me to be his house wife. He picked out some dresses for me to buy / make sometime and I am so impatient and eager to buy / make them. I want to wear them for him so bad. I love how we both love history, well he only likes WW2, and the macabre and we can just sit there for hours on end talking about Nazi Germany and everythig. We can sit there for hours and talk about cannibalism and murder and rape and it's so fucked up but time flies by so fast. I know one time we sat there talking about cannibalism and what the consistency and texture of an eyeball would be and then we got to talking about Necrophilia versus Spectrophilia when it came to our relationship. I just...... I love how I can freely talk about the stuff I love with him without him judging and actively participating in the conversation. I love how dear he is to me. He tries so much to help me when I'm upset and I appreciate it so much. I love him indefintely and I will always be his. Even when nothing is left to be anything. I will always be his girl. In the past, in this here present, and in the future. In every life. Every existence. Every universe. Every reality. Every species. We will always be each others and I will always be his. In fiction and non fiction. In life and death. I actually started crying while writing this because of how much I love him.

[sweetflanfiction]

Second Chances - Part 8

Universe: Read Dead Redemption 2

Pairing: Arthur x reader

Disclaimers and Warnings: If you want me to tag you on the chapters let me know! Also leave a comment with your thoughts :D Not finished, not proofread. English isn't my 1st language. All I know about 1899 is from google, so inacuracies will be plenty. The reader is on the older side, and identifies as a female. Gif by the talented @sweeetestcurse. There's a little funny tidbit at the end of the chapter :D

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

• ··········· • ············ •

His eyes looked up and he felt his muscles tense. That single word had such an impact on him that he didn't even know he was holding his breath until Albert spoke again.

"Cattle convoy." The older man said, but Arthur didn't blink. "Some affluent cattle farmer needs his cattle delivered by train to his ranch north of here. Everston agreed to a substantial fee for it. He wants us to help him."

Arthur slowly breathed, hoping it would remain unnoticed by the two other people in the room. Hell, even he wasn't aware he was holding his breath.

"Who's goin'?" You asked, moving the bucket of water you had been using for the dishes.

"Well, Everston obviously, his eldest, myself, Brant…"

"Can I come?" You asked abruptly and Albert laughed.

"You know the answer is no."

"Fine. No hurt in asking." Your eyes landed on the silent Arthur and she squished her eyes, one side of her mouth curled up. "Take him then."

"Hum…could actually be a good idea. What do you say Mr. Callahan?"

Arthur had only been on the other side of the cattle transport. The side that steals it and re-sells it, with the probability of killing the participants. To be honest, knowing the ins and outs of the outlaws may be of use to them. He nodded silently. 

"You alright there?" You asked. Your eyebrows furrowed deep in her face, concern written in them.

"Huh…" He cleared his throat. "Yes, yes! Sorry, I've had some past experiences with that sort of…job."

"Bad ones?" The rough farmer asked.

"Both, I guess."

"It'll be fine Mr. Callahan. We do this often, it's income. It's the first time we work with this feller, but we have some that we tipically work. We just go to town, get them off the train, ride them to their owners and come back."

"No outlaws?" Curiosity had the better of him but, to his surprise, Albert chuckled.

"That's what's worrying you? That you'll get shot?"

"More like if I have to shoot someone…"

The older man's face turned serious for a moment and Arthur thought he'd been found. 

"The law around these parts generally accepts one or two dead outlaws. Especially if they have bounties on 'em. We try not to let it get to that extent, but if it's between them and us, we try to make it all about us."

The small kitchen was silent for a while, the gravity of the topic not escaping anyone. The other two people might have been more reserved in their opinions about killing anyone, but Arthur had done it more times than he could count. And he did it well. Too well sometimes.

"You know how to use a rifle don't you?" Albert asked. His eyebrows raised and a grin on his lips. He knew the answer to that.

"If he doesn't, he could just tackle the bandits to the ground. The man is taller than a lighthouse, probably tougher than a tree trunk." You joked and Arthur felt his cheeks turn red.

"Well, say what's on your mind why don't you?" The older rancher chastised, getting up from his seat on the table and walking out, both Arthur and his daughter following him.

"What? Am I lying?" She turned to Arthur and placed two hands on his upper arm, wrapping them around his muscles, making him stop dead in his tracks. "Look at this!"

"Stop manhandling the help, dear. You're making the man uncomfortable."

You looked up at Arthur. In a nonchalant manner, his eyes slowly moved from your hands to your face. He wasn't uncomfortable, quite the opposite. It felt like a comfortable joke between friends. He tried to stop himself from tensing his muscles under his shirt to see if you would react. However, your face showed you had realized you may have stepped on a line, your smile fading and your hands moving from his arm.

"I'm sorry Mr. Callahan."

It took him a moment to reply, clearing his throat and nodding his head at her and smiling casually.

"No need to be sorry Miss Graham."

She mimicked his smile and patted him on the shoulder, following her father to a room he hadn't been in before. It was just at the bottom of the stairs but he almost never saw it open.

"Come on Mr. Callahan. Let's meet the rest of the land." The older gentleman half shouted from inside what seemed to be his office.

Arthur walked into a sunny room furnished with a couch, a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf filled with books and knick knacks, a desk and a chair. Much like the rest of the house the room was small and cramped, but wasn't uncomfortable. It was cozy and lived in.

You sat on the couch and grabbed a guitar that had been leaning against the wall. You started to strum it as Mr. Graham grabbed a framed map from the wall and placed it on top of his desk.

"Now, this is Captain's Corner." He pointed to the map.

A loose diamond shape was drawn on yellowed paper and divided into five parts: four around the shape and one smaller. The faded names were neatly written on the paper. Some he could make out, others not so much.

The upper part of the diamond seemed to have a small river or trail of water around it. Beyond that some trees were drawn and another dotted line appeared. On the lower part there were some trails with arrows pointing to various locations.

"Now here." He pointed to the top left part of the diamond. " That's us. We have horses, four sheep, and two cows..."

"And the chickens. Don't forget the chickens." You reminded him and Albert nodded.

"And some chickens. We sell sheep's wool, and horses. We've got some crops that we use for whatever we can. Right now we have wheat growing, but that may change. As long as it's hardy it probably grows." 

"We're gonna try potatoes after and maybe have some beehives." You added from behind Arthur still plucking random notes from the guitar.

"Below us is Brant's. Eleanor and Williamson. They have corn crops and Eleanor has a herb greenhouse. They live alone, no kids unfortunately. Mighty fine people. If you ever feel under the weather, go to him. He'll fix you up in no time... You're living proof of that."

He moved his hand to the lower right part of the diamond.

"The Everstons. Bernard and Josie, and about 200 kids…"

"It's just 5." You interrupted again.

"And their 5 kids. Lovely family, loud and warm. You'll meet them soon. He's the cattle owner of the bunch, has more cows than brains sometimes, but he's an excellent man and I trust him to make wise judgements. And here, next to us, we have Mr. Thomson. Tobacco leaves and foul humor, that's what he got." Albert's tone shifted to a less friendly tone as he talked about his neighbor. "He drinks and takes care of the crops. If at all possible don't cross the lines to his propriety. He's as rancorous and he is a good shot."

"Amen. My leg still twitches every time I get near that fence." He could hear the venom in your voice, which was an unfamiliar sound to him.

"And in the middle we have Miss Beatrice Renoir. Widow, her husband came from France, died and she stayed here. She's trying to plant sugar cane and it's succeeded up to now, but we still have to wait and see."

"How about this?" Arthur pointed to the woods above, which have a dashed line running through them.

"Native folk have settled there." Albert said, watching Arthur closely.

"They trouble?" He asked.

"No. Quite the opposite. We all try to help each other."

"Alright then." Arthur stood straight and looked at the older man. “Can I ask a question? Without meaning any offense?”

“Of course.” The rancher straightened up.

“Why is it called Captain’s Corner? It’s clearly not a corner and…” 

“Most of us were War veterans." He laughed. “And some drunk in town decided that we were all captains and that we had taken this corner of the land so…Captain’s Corner…”

Arthur nodded. He felt nervous about this. It was the first honest to God job he had since he could remember.

"You understand everything?" Albert asked, placing the map on the wall again.

Arthur nodded, taking a deep breath.

"When do we leave?"

• ··········· • ············ •

Map of the ranch:

• ··········· • ············ •

@photo1030 :: @sylum :: @marislittlereadingcorner :: @rratman :: @clevergirl74 :: @aureolinb

[krawwan]

Writing Interview Tag Game

The lovely @kimberbohwrites tagged me – thank you so much!

When did you start writing?

I don’t remember a time before stories. Partially it might have been due to my environment, that I had to escape somehow – even if I could only retreat into my own mind and the worlds I could make up there. They weren’t really finished narratives, I was mostly into making up worlds that my friends would add characters to, and we would draw comics around the stories that developed from that .

Although that stopped when I was around fifteen or sixteen. The abuse at home kept escalating with my growing independence, and I couldn’t maintain the connection to myself necessary for true creativity and the willful ignorance regarding what was happening to me I had developed to protect myself. There is no writing or other piece of art from my time, because I just stopped being able to do it.

Stories I need to live, said ignorance I needed to survive, so it had to take precedence.

Ten years later or so, I’ve been reclaiming my own perception of events with, among other things, half a decade of therapy now. I can touch my own ideas again without them slipping through my hands.

BG3 is it’s own special joy here – it’s the first fandom I’ve really written for, recently, and that’s mostly thanks to the writer friends I’ve found through it (my pedipalps <3).

Are there different themes or genres that you enjoy reading than what you write?

Outside of fanfic, yes! I read a lot of classic stuff – Thomas Mann, Michail Bulgakow, Oscar Wilde are the last few authors I read in that department. Fiction-wise, I enjoy things that explore the more ambiguous sides of human emotion, or generally darker and more serious stuff – Das Parfüm by Patrick Süskind (The perfume) for example, although that’s something I also write about. I’d also count Accabadora by Michaela Murgia amongst that, though that’s also a historically inspired and socio-critical. Tbh I mostly read nonfiction though, Roberto Saviano’s works on the Ndragheta and other organised crime are currently back on my mind.

In fanfic, I’m pretty stuck in my tastes as far as themes go, but there are some characters that don’t inspire me to write, but that I like reading about – Rolan for example (though I might have something cooking for him), or Halsin.

Can you tell me about your writing space?

I often lug my laptop to the university library or onto my balcony, but I’ve also recently treated myself to new desk equipment – so I’ve started using it more, now that I have a second monitor, a nice mechanical keyboard and a chair that doesn’t kill my back.

One thing about my writing space though – it has to be spotless. I can’t deal with crumbs on my table or unfolded laundry lying around.

This all goes for writing itself. My ideas I mostly write down by hand in my notebook, wherever I am in that moment.

What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?

I don’t. I either have something to say and then I sit down and say it, or I don’t. Your mind also needs to lie fallow every now and then.

If the words aren’t flowing when the ideas themselves are there, it’s usually because something else is taking up my attention. Be it any kind of mess (as I said…) or something I’m avoiding in other areas of my life, that has to be taken care of first.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing?

Some are fairly common in fanfic – trauma, the aftermath of sexual abuse etc. I think some of my other patterns are characters that are neither good nor bad, the need to accept yourself and what you’ve done even if others may not forgive you, and love that is built, not found.

What is your reason for writing?

The words have to go somewhere, or I start to get restless.

In seriousness, I also think that stories are a chance to explore the things that often don’t have room in daily life. Especially fiction that doesn’t have to perform well, like fanfics, can leave the kind of room for the regular human messiness to breathe.

Is there any kind of specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

I haven’t published a lot yet and I haven’t received that many comments yet; So it’s hard to say. But so far I can say that whenever I can feel that my writing touched someone and they take the time to share that with me it stays with me for a long time, and keeps me motivated to keep sharing my stuff.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

I haven’t thought about that yet much, and the idea of someone developing a parasocial relationship makes me want to crawl out of my skin, but uh… I think I’d like my writing to feel safe to people? Not necessarily in the sense that they won’t encounter difficult themes and injustices in it, but that the darker themes I explore are handled in an informed and tasteful way.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

I think my compassion with my characters and their actions. Nuance, in general, seems to be my thing as well – I don’t do black and white.

How do you feel about your own writing?

I’m a bit frustrated that my fictional writing is all in English, currently. It’s neither my first nor my fourth language, and it’s not my favourite language to read in either.

Aside from that… I’m growing fond of my own style, now that I’ve found my voice, sort of. My sense of humour is starting to shine through, which is also nice!

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

So far, what I want to write and say takes precedence. I do, of course, think about the “how” of writing – how style and vocabulary can help me get my ideas across. Who knows, I could try taking requests, that might be fun.

Tagging: @dutifullylazybread @blackjackkent @invinciblerodent @faerielli and @lewdisescariot

EDIT: AND @forget-me-maybe!!! As well als @cactusmisslittle

[alexdelray1]

Miguel O'hara x Pregnant Reader.

-Are you Spider-Woman from Earth 779?- some guy in a super hero costume asked me. Or a cosplay.

-And do I look like her?- I asked. I was lying on my stomach on a pile of rubble.

-Did you take down that unearthly figure that tried to kill me and the rest of New York? - I added, too tired to get up.

-Yes. I'm surprised you couldn't do it yourself. - he said and put his hands on his hips.

-Miguel, the point is that- a hologram of a woman finished.

-You know, fighting bandits is not that easy during pregnancy.- I said, getting up. My belly was clearly visible becouse of costume that covered my entire body.

-Oh. Oh. I didn't expect this.- he said, surprised.

-Are you a new hero? You're a bit too muscular to be new. - I commented, looking at his muscles.

-No. I'm from another universe. My name is Miguel O'hara and I am Spider-Man from Earth 2099. Just a question. Shouldn't you be on maternity leave? - he introduced himself and asked.

-I don't have a replacement and it's only been 4 months. And I guess you know that my name is Reader Bush (change your surname if you want).

-So what are you doing in my universe anyway? Are you lost or something? - I asked him and he sighed.

-No. I save universes from anomalies, he explained.

-Interesting. Was that an anomaly?- I asked, arching my back.

-Yes. For now, you are not ready for such tasks due to your... condition. So it's normal that you didn't make it. - he said.

-Pregnancy. Jesus Christ, it's not a bad word. Why are you so afraid of it? - I asked him. It was obvious that this irritated him.

-I'm not afraid. I just wanted to say that your condi-- he didn't finish because of me.

-Pregnancy.- I corrected him.

-So be it. Pregnancy. I have a proposition for you that you can think about for 4 months. - he said and quickly glanced at my belly.

-Give me 4 minutes.- I said and he sighed.

-You can become a member of the Spider-people society and fight anomalies with us. You can work part-time, but it all depends on you.- he explained.

-Why not.- I said.

-Really?- he asked with surprise.

-As if I don't have a husband, parents or anyone who would think my excuses were strange. And this baby will live here for another 4 months. I will work part-time.- I said.

-Good, I guess you want to see what our headquarters looks like now. Hmm I think we'll need your help soon. - he said and started doing something on his watch.

-Yes. I would like to see HQ. As you can see, you need me in your squad. - I fixed my hair (sorry if you're bald). He opened a portal and turned to me.

-Ready?- he asked me.

-Let's go!- I said and ran into the portal.

SORRY IT'S SO SHORT, BUT HERE WE START A NEW CHAPTER. STARTING TODAY ACCEPTING ORDERS. YOU CAN HERE AND ANYTHING YOU WANT. I ALSO HAVE AN ACCOUNT ON wattpad AND MY NAME IS MotherMotherIsee. I WRITE THIS BOOK IN POLISH THERE AND THERE ARE A LITTLE CHANGED ISSUES.

[heaven-s-black-box]

The Edgeworths-Prosecutors office

Return to File- Event Masterlist

Recovery date: July 13th, 2020

Description:  Edgeworth and his kids

Notes: An entry from my 2020 research project into the universe of Ace Attorney. You can find the next entry here.

Word count: 563

Back to directory

“Mr. Edgeworth!” Kay screamed as she tackled him in a hug.

“Oof! It is good to see you again Kay. How have you been?” He smiled, awkwardly returning the hug.

“Good! Good! Is Sebby here? I haven’t seen him in forever!” Kay let him go and began scanning the room.

“Prosecutor Debeste is currently in the middle of a trial, however you can stay at the prosecutor’s office until he returns. I have some people I think you would enjoy meeting.” He turned around and waved at her to follow him.

Kay had spent the last few months abroad, helping Franziska and interpol. With the recent end to an investigation, Franziska and her had returned to LA. Franziska would be leaving again in a few days, she only had to retrieve a few files, but Kay was planning on picking up an investigation here. She really did miss LA and it’s prosecutors.

“So, who am I meeting? Is it “that man”?” She asked, doing a terrible Edgeworth impression. He rolled his eyes.

“No. We’ve acquired two new prosecutors I’d like you to meet.” 

They climbed the rest of the stairs, with Kay telling him all about her time with Franziska. Apparently Franziska had been done with Kay’s antics after day two. So, she’d told Kay to just investigate on her own, that explained the call he’d gotten. Not long after the two had left, Franziska had called him to tell him he was insane, and nothing else.

“Now, they are a little strange to say the least,” Edgeworth said, as they approached an office. “I’ll introduce you to prosecutor Gavin first, he’s the more… calm of the two.” He muttered something else that she missed. “Prosecutor Gavin,” he said, as he pushed open the door. They were met with yelling so intense, she was surprised they hadn’t heard it outside.

“Herr Samurai while you have a point-”

“Gavin-dono your refusal is futi-”

“Oh my god! You’re Klavier Gavin!” Both men stopped yelling at each other and turned to the door.

Kay stood jaw dropped, pointing at Klavier, and Edgeworth just sighed. She ignored him and ran up to Klavier.

“I love your music! Can I get an autograph? Or better yet,” she fished around in her bag and pulled out a Gavineers CD, “Can you sign this?”

Klavier shook off his shock, and glared at Simon who had started snickering. He turned back to Kay and smiled, “Of course Fraulein.” Kay let out an almost deafening squeal. “And who am I signing it to?”

“Kay, Kay Faraday. I thought Sebby was lying when he said he worked with THE Klavier Gavin… I guess I owe him an apology,” she grumbled the last part. The two prosecutors were shocked when Edgeworth gave Kay a fond smile.

“Now,” he said, turning back to the two prosecutors, “What on earth were you two fighting about?”

“Gavin-dono and I were merely having a heated debate on whether Justice-dono would accept the proposal of a date with him,” Simon smirked, watching as Klavier’s face turned pink.

Edgeworth nodded, “Please keep these debates civil, or do not have them at all. But for the record, I’m sure Mr. Justice would absolutely accept the proposal of a date.” He smiled, before turning around to leave. “Do not cause too much chaos Kay, Prosecutor Debeste should be returning soon.”

“Yes sir!”

[scribbledtruth]

Between the Lines

It's strange how some days you don't feel as heavy as you used to. Why is that?

I went downtown the other day with my friends. It was fun. A friend of mine has a habit of picking up strays; this time, she picked up two. I don't remember their names—maybe Aaron? Neil? I don't know. But I ended up having a long conversation with one of them.

I don't talk about you with my friends—not really. But he didn't know me. I was just a stranger in a bar. So I let myself talk about you.

He asked me what I would do if the love of my life was with someone else. Funny how I have some experience with that. I don't think I was very helpful. I could see it in his eyes—he wanted me to say, 'Just tell her how you feel. Fuck the other guy, his feelings don't matter.' But I'm not that person, I couldn't tell him what he wanted to hear.

Instead, all I could offer him was the truth. I told him about you—how I'll always love you and I still think about you softly from time to time. I told him how I remember you as my golden retriever best friend, the smartest person in class, the person who loved me like no other. I told him how you’d stay late to help me with things you didn’t have to, how you always seemed to know when I needed someone—even when I didn’t want to admit it.

And then I told him something I wish someone had told me: sometimes you don't always get what you want. Sometimes you'll put up a good fight and lose. Sometimes you'll give it your all, and it won't be enough. Some things will heal eventually, but not everything will. 'Acceptance,' I said, 'is a quiet, lonely, empty space.'

He called me a pragmatist—maybe I am. He said that he believes if you want something badly enough, maybe, just maybe, the universe will reward you with everything you want.

I wasn't thinking clearly—maybe it was the drinks, or maybe it was the freedom of confessing to a stranger who didn't know my name. Either way, I said it. The thing I never let myself say, not out loud anyway. I told him that if you came to me and told me that you love me, I'm not sure there's anything or anyone I wouldn't drop for you.

The worst part? I meant it. I meant it with the kind of clarity that feels like a betrayal.

My friend just stared at me when I finished, gently reminding me that I've been with my partner for four years. I knew that. It didn't change my answer. We didn't say much after that—what else was there to say?

I love my partner, yes, but not the way I love you. I've tried to let it go, genuinely, I have. Sometimes I wish I could because it makes me fucking sick how some nights I'm lying next to him and I think about you. It makes me sick to think that I would willingly rip his heart out of his chest and stomp on it if you told me you wanted me. What's wrong with me? Would you do the same?

Would you look at her and decide I was worth it? Would you see me standing here, still waiting, while she wears your ring?

No, I don't think you would. You've always been better than me—stronger, gentler, everything I'm not. But sometimes, I wish you weren't. I wish you'd be reckless for once, selfish enough to choose me. Sometimes I wish you'd look at me and say, 'You're worth it all, no matter who we hurt.'

Just say the word, and I'll burn it all down for you.

But you won't, will you? That's what makes you...you. You're too kind and selfless for that.

I want to hate you for it. I really do. I want to hate you for the way you stayed when you said you wouldn’t. I want to hate you for giving her that ring—my ring. Did it ever occur to you that I'd still be here, waiting? That I never left? When I said, ‘I can’t imagine marrying anyone other than you,’ I meant it. Did you?

But I can't hate you. Because I know you, and I know you wouldn't have given her that ring if you didn't mean it.

So instead, I'll sit with this ache. I'll wake up next to someone else and I'll play my part, because that's what I chose. That's what we both chose.

I've read this script a thousand times, and the costume fits, so I'll wear it. I'll smile when I'm supposed to, laugh at the right moments, and say all the right lines to keep everyone comfortable. I'll keep pretending that this lukewarm love I have with my partner is enough, as long as I don't think about it too long.

You'd call this strength, practicality. I'd call it weakness. Maybe we're both right.

I'll play my part. I'll keep pretending the script doesn't feel like a lie every time I say, 'I'm happy.' But between the lines, I'll still be here, loving you quietly, selfishly, recklessly—until the lights dim and there's no one left to applaud.

I'll keep letting you go. Again. And again. And again. For the rest of my life, if that's what it takes.

But I'll love you always.

[thehumanexperience8b]

March 26th, 2024: I Am In Control

Hello! I am so sorry I haven’t been able to write to you these past couple days, I just got busy. Actually, I’m lying! (For the sake of this entry!!) I didn’t write because I just didn’t. The reason for why may vary, but in reality, I had complete control over my actions. Taking a break of course is okay, but I take full responsibility for my actions. 

Taking responsibility for your actions can be scary, or it can be freeing! The universe will throw things in your way, but if you want it, you can have it! Don’t keep telling yourself “but the circumstances…” because the circumstances aren’t in control, you are! 

I’m going to talk about a classic psychology experiment in American history called the Stanley Milgram experiment. To summarize, the patient/volunteer in the study is asked politely by a figure of authority (perceived scientist in experiment) to inflict pain on an unseen actor. They were told they needed to flip the switch to give the actor an electric shock if they got an answer wrong. The experiment showed that most people will do as they were told even if they didn’t want to hurt the man anymore. Milgram has stated that 65% of the people in the study administered the heaviest voltage of 450 volts and were assumed to have killed the man behind the screen. The volunteers believed that the scientist would take responsibility for hurting this man, when really, all actions are on the person flipping the switch. Who is actually flipping that switch? Why do you listen to that man and not the man in pain? I do think there’s some problems with this, as they weren’t just doing it for fun, they were slightly pressured. But we can gather that the man would not be getting shocks if it wasn’t for the person delivering them. 

I’ve seen a lot of videos in which there might be someone saying something like, for example, “I want to lose weight, but I can’t because…” but yes, you can! No it won’t be easy, but humans are made for the dirty work! If you want something bad enough, you will find a way to get there. Be a dreamer, it’s not a bad thing. Just start reasonably and set your sights high. There’s a saying that goes, aim for the sky and you’ll reach the ceiling. Aim for the ceiling, you’ll stay on the floor. Similarly, aim for the moon, and if you miss, you’ll fall upon the stars. But I’m rambling about dreams now!

Another opinion that has risen in popularity online (but has died off a little now) is that if you have mental illness you have an excuse for your actions. It reminds me of the story I tell often where this person trying to get involved with my friend group, felt it was appropriate to hit me in the back of the head, because she has D.I.D and “it was just my alter.” I do not forgive that person. One of my old friends I don’t talk to much anymore still defends this by saying it wasn’t her in control. Yes she was! Who is the one with the arms to hit me? I understand why that is being said but it’s simply not an excuse. I think of a simple thought, “if it won’t hold up in court, you are liable!” Not that the American judicial system is the most accurate… As a person who lives with bipolar disorder, if I have an emotional outburst at someone, kicking and screaming because I was the one who forgot to take my medicine; I cannot blame it on mental illness. I am not insane, I was aware of the potential risks of not taking that medicine. 

I believe it makes your life easier to accept your actions as your own, and not only that, other people will find you easier to get along with because you accept when you’re wrong (or right). It’s not fun to blame someone else for something, we need honesty and self-respect. My philosophy teacher believes if we were kinder, and more true to ourselves, humans would act more honestly and kindly to others. Is it your brain causing you to conform so you will feel accepted? And is your soul telling you that you shouldn’t? Remember you are in control of your life! Think about your influences. You live your own life, and we only have proof of one!

[cveenso]

Third.

After finishing that second journal post, I went to bed. After that, my mother woke me up for sahoor. I had my usual meal, but what followed was a complete nightmare. My stomach hurts, and I have trouble falling asleep. I wanted to puke up because I was feeling so terrible. I realized I had received a text from him at 6:35 a.m.

Yes. Him.

After seeing my message for quite some time, he responded to me. My desire to simply move on and act as though nothing had happened put me in denial. Here he is, responding after a few days yet remaining uninterested. Nevertheless, he did alert me on his manic episodes, so I don't blame him. The way he responded to me was the one thing that alarmed me, at least a bit. Suffice it to say, I communicated with him in a pretty impromptu manner prior to this episode. So at the beginning, I was able to confirm that our mutual interest in one another was genuine through our follow-up conversation. But that's not what I had in mind when I first started the chat, which is the issue. You would label this guy as a clear warning sign, and to make matters worse, I'm a fool for continuing to interact with him or even feeling the way I do about him. It was his way of reading me, he explained. I am aware of his lies. I know he doesn't give a damn that I know he lied outright. But I have a different connection with him for some reason. That's just weird and I just can't explain it.

As a quick aside, he is definitely not my type of man and not the kind of man I would pursue.

Yes, I am aware. Asking if he missed me or not was a foolish move on my part. He missed me, he said.

Now for the unvarnished truth. He didn't seem to miss me. I had a sneaking suspicion that he was scared I would carry on with my life. I removed all social media from my account to avoid any distractions, so please understand. Maybe he became aware of it? Or perhaps fear overcame him. Not sure. I understand; we haven't yet met. However, you must comprehend the level of love and care I invest in the connection we have.

So many questions linger in my head at that point of time. Is he the one for me? Is he not? What am I supposed to do now? Am I supposed to let him chase me?

When he replied, I was ecstatic. Even though it's been a few days. It's true that I desired him. I know in my heart that he is not a bad person, even if it's not because of the way he appears. He is making an effort to be. No one is purely good, and I refuse to accept that anyone is terrible. He is great, I can see that. He dreams. He has objectives. It's acceptable if he is lying to me. I'm rather certain he has motivations for lying to me, even if I knew he was lying. And no, I'm not offering justifications for his actions.

Considering everything, our conversation might be our last. God only knows how long this text will be visible or sent. Like you, I don't have much hope for this guy. I am certain, though, that my intentions were pure when I desired him. Together, we would practice our deen, as that is what I hoped for—or rather, what I sought for in a man—when I imagined him as my husband. For the sake of Allah, show each other love. I wanted to lead him down the correct path. From a woman, does that not sound appropriate?

Should I be with a man who is competent enough to guide me in the correct direction? The proper method? Who decides that, though? If the topic of discussion is universal, then the answers to these endless questions aren't correct or wrong, are they? It all depends, in my opinion, on the outcome.

Although I'm not sure what to do, I'll just do what feels right and let Allah SWT handle the rest. I've reached a very high degree of acceptance, and no matter what happens, I'll accept my fate and have faith in my Creator.

Yours Truly,

cveenso

[aaazithro2]

LAYERS

(Quite a long read)

The "sudden heartbreak" demanded a sense of contemplation and reflection of sorts.

I was perfectly fine just being single. I've been single for a few years until that fateful encounter when I met her. It didn't work out. Now I'm hurting in places. Why? Why was it, surprisingly, this painful?

(Look, judgements are fine and welcome. You can argue and say, "But it was only for such a brief time..." Well yes, but I still can't deny and discount the fact that it hurt. The point as to why, we'll get to that as you read along.)

For the past weeks, I've been analyzing my emotions and thoughts about it. Let's just say that, aside from finding her amazing, I got attached to the desired outcome of having a "happy life/relationship" with her. Everything with her felt great. We had chemistry, at least that's what I felt. She made me really happy. It was hard not to fall for her. Because, you know what, there were so many things she was ticking off the list of my "ideal person."

She became an oasis for me. I've been single for about 2 years when we met. Being single for years then suddenly getting affection may also explain why everything she did felt sweeter. Well but honestly, she's really sweet. That's one of the things I really like about her. (Damn, it's over but there's things I still like about her. Do you understand how much I really liked her? Ughhh...)

That's why there are layers of hurt. The happiness she brought was something I wanted to keep and nurture. I thought I'd finally get to have my person. I thought that maybe after all the waiting, my person was actually her all along.

But no, she wasn't my person. Her heart was locked somewhere else. She couldn't see me with sparkly eyes the way I did her. I didn't know what I truly meant to her. (Or maybe I do know, I just didn't want to face that I was a capital "R" to her. Haha! Nevermind, go figure that out.)

Love, the real kind, should be fierce but peaceful. I'm too old to risk my heart solving puzzles figuring out whether another person can love me back. I always have this mantra, "If you don't love me, don't." And as the song goes, we can't make people love us if they don't.

Things between us started to become unclear to me. It felt like my love will be only be taken for granted. Although painful, somehow it became much easier to bear. I may be wrong, I don't know. There's just so much confusion and uncertainty (and too little clarity) that it's the only conclusion I can arrive to. The initial excitement, happiness, and the hopes morphed into fear. I was afraid of breaking my heart just to unravel her truth.

Another more personal realization is that I may have been lying to myself on how I feel about being single. I always say, "Being single is fine." In the dating app, I even just ticked "Looking for friends" and "Not Sure Yet."

Am I really looking for "just friends?" Am I really "not sure?" I.... I guess it's difficult to admit that I am looking for more than that. I do want to have a deep connection and a special someone. I've read it somewhere that we judge ourselves for wanting a partner/relationship because it's seen as a form of weakness. The acceptable notion is that we should be fine with independency. But.... if I were to be deeply honest with myself, it's clear now what I truly want.

I need to be more brave with this heart's true wishes. But at the same time, I need to appreciate this (extended) season of singularity.

I don't know when it will end or if it will ever end, this season of singleness. But one thing's for sure. If ever love finds me, I'm certain that I can give my stars, my moons, my suns, my universe, my entire heart. Whoever that person, my person, is - I'm ready. I hope and pray you are too. 🩷

[chickennugqueen]

1-50 please

for anyone that doesn't want to know all this info, pls feel free to scroll lmao

1: Do you ever wish you were someone else? nope! i very much enjoy who i am

2: What is your full name? cortney rose lesovoy (follow me on instagram @/cortneylesovoy

3: How old are you and how old do you get mistaken for? i'm 25, usually get mistaken for 18-22 lmao

4: Have you ever dyed your hair? yes! it was purple and pink for a bit, but i'm back to my natural color

5: What’s your eye color? dark brown

6: Your opinion about your body and how comfortable you are with it i like my body. i used to struggle with an eating disorder, and it's something that does still affect me to this day, but i also love myself and am learning to be as comfortable as i can be with it.

7: Do you have any tattoos or piercings? some tattoos (more soon pls) and a couple piercings

8: What would you say is your best quality? my empathy and kindness

9: What are you really bad at? being patient and holding back my opinion on things

10: What talent do you wish you had? would like to get better at videography

11: Are you nice to everyone? everyone except fascists, nazis, and people who aren't accepting of all humanity

12: What do you think about the most? the man i adore

13: Things you like/dislike about yourself i really like who i am as a person. i'll always have growing to do but i'm happy with who i am, so i don't dislike anything about me.

14: What is your least favorite word? not sure i have one

15: What is your favorite word? anything that sounds like flabberghasted or bamboozled or something silly

16: Are you more like your mom or your dad? dad for sure

17: Would you ever smile at a stranger? always even though i'm shy

18: A reason you’ve lied to someone because i'm afraid of disappointment duh

19: Are you lying about anything right now? not that i'm aware of

20: Have you kissed someone older than you? of course

21: Do you believe in love at first sight? nope!

22: Do you believe in soulmates? i used to! but no, i don't. love is putting in the work.

23: Are looks important? eh, not really. looks will catch my attention but won't make me stay, whereas i can fall for someone's personality and not be attracted to them at first

24: Opinion on relationship age differences as long as its two consenting adults aka both over the age of 21, go for it.

25: Would you date someone off the Internet? for sure

26: Have you ever cried over a boy/girl? who hasn't?

27: Have you ever wanted someone you couldn’t have? of course. a universal experience

28: Anyone you’re giving up on right now? nope!

29: Have you ever liked someone who your friends hated? absolutely during my teenage years

30: Have you ever liked your best friend? yes! when we were in college

31: How does someone win your heart? similar politics, can banter with me, isn't afraid of my past trauma, will just stick by me when shit gets hard, is my best friend

32: What turns you on? emotional connection

33: What turns you off? so many things lmao, but definitely people being too sexual right off the bat before i get to know them.

34: Do you get jealous easily? depends on the person! at the place i'm at right now, not usually

35: What is your definition of cheating? if you haven't discussed it with your partner and there's a reason you won't tell them, it's cheating.

36: Do you forgive betrayal? depends what it is. i'm a forgiving person, usually

37: Have you ever been cheated on? never been in a relationship

38: Have you ever cheated on someone? see above

39: How often do you listen to music? every dang day

40: First concert you attended hilary duff!!

41: Last movie you watched shit i don't really watch movies.... probably black widow??

42: Favorite type of movie sucker for drama and romcoms

43: Is there something that happened in your past that you hate talking about? a couple of my sexual assaults, yeah

44: Are you good at hiding your feelings? literally never

45: Do you fall in love easily? i don't think so. i've only loved one person.

46: Do you think people say I love you too much? nope! say it to your friends, your partners, your family, anyone you know! doesn't diminish its meaning

47: What’s your favorite holiday? christmas

48: Are you a forgiving person? Do you like being that way? if someone apologizes and changes their actions or makes amends, yep!

49: Where’s the most magical place on earth? my bed i love sleeping

50: What’s your “type”? emo boys with long hair n pretty eyes for sure

[velvetvexations]

Sigh. Okay. I'm not saying anyone is bad for liking Dukat. Literally I LIKE DUKAT. I love him! He's an amazing character, and my opinion is based firmly in what I see of myself reflected in him.

What I am saying is simply that Dukat was always intended to be exactly as evil as he was, and that the Dukat of the final two seasons is far more three dimensional than the Dukat of the first two, who did things through which no lens could possibly justify the way Dukat's later characterization would have him do. Marc Alaimo was just plain wrong. But as I note in another response to this post, I think that's awesome and a big part of what made Dukat work, because anyone who recognized Dukat was full of shit would have played as intentional lying. You can tell Dukat believes it all because Alaimo really does as well and the result is truly art.

Dukat went banana's evil in Waltz because he was having a mental breakdown at his lowest moment shortly after his daughter's death and crumbling under the continued contempt of a man he egregiously, desperately sought the approval of, and who was the beloved extraterrestrial savior of the Bajorans Dukat desperately wanted to be. The way his final determination to finish what he started and exterminate the Bajorans is built up to is easily the equal or even superior to the works of Shakespeare or any Greek tragedy.

And Sisko explicitly does not want to pass judgement on Dukat. Dukat practically forces him to because he's that extremely desperate to argue his case.

DUKAT: You brought it on yourself, you know. SISKO: Just like all your victims. DUKAT: All my victims. It always comes back to that, doesn't it? All my crimes. I'm such a monster, such an evil man. Behold Benjamin Sisko, supreme arbiter of right and wrong in the universe. A man of such high moral calibre that he can sit in judgement on all the rest of us. SISKO: What the hell do you want from me? My approval? Is that what this is all about? You want me to give you my permission to cause more suffering and death? Well, if that's what you're after, you might as well pull out that phaser and end this right now because I will never give it to you! DUKAT: Good! Good, I like this. No more pretence, no games. Just you, me and the truth. SISKO: What do you know about the truth? You bend the truth into whatever shape suits you. DUKAT: Judge Sisko hands down another ruling. But where's his evidence? SISKO: All right. You really want to do this? Here? Now? DUKAT: Yes. SISKO: Okay. Okay, let's do it. You were Prefect of Bajor during the occupation. True or false? DUKAT: True. SISKO: And you were responsible for everything that happened under your command. True or false? DUKAT: True. SISKO: So that means that you are responsible for the murder of over five million Bajorans on your watch. True or false! DUKAT: False. I tried to save lives during my administration.

And yet, even then, Sisko is somewhat gray here.

SISKO: So, why do you think they didn't appreciate this rare opportunity you were offering them? DUKAT: Because they were blind, ignorant fools. If only they had cooperated with us, we could have turned their world into a paradise. From the moment we arrived on Bajor, it was clear that we were the superior race. But they couldn't accept that. They wanted to be treated as equals when they most certainly were not. Militarily, technologically, culturally, we were almost a century ahead of them in every way. We did not choose to be the superior race. Fate handed us our role. And it would've been so much easier on everyone if the Bajorans had simply accepted their role. But no, day after day they clustered in their temples and prayed for deliverance, and night after night they planted bombs outside of our homes. Pride. Stubborn, unyielding pride. From the servant girl that cleaned my quarters to the condemned man toiling in a labour camp to the terrorist skulking through the hills of Dahkur Province. They all wore their pride like some twisted badge of honour. SISKO: And you hated them for it. DUKAT: Of course I hated them! I hated everything about them! Their superstitions and their cries for sympathy, their treachery and their lies, their smug superiority and their stiff necked obstinacy, their earrings and their broken wrinkled noses. SISKO: You should have killed them all. DUKAT: Yes! Yes! That's right, isn't it? I knew it! I've always known it! I should have killed every last one of them. I should have turned their planet into a graveyard the likes of which the galaxy had never seen! I should have killed them all.

Sisko is practically just goading him at this point, because he hates Dukat and always has. Sisko is empathetic when Dukat is his prisoner in the beginning of the episode but as soon as their stranded together he recognizes him as a dangerous snake and is holding in barely constrained contempt for him the entire time. Sisko doesn't care to try and calm him down and be his therapist like a more all-loving, morally impeccable hero would have.

Because Sisko like, isn't Dukat's therapist. I don't understand how it's disappointing for Sisko to find the guy who presided over the mass murder of the people he's come to have a weird messiah relationship with to be evil. It's one thing to say a fan shouldn't get too caught up in hating a fictional character, but there's no world where he puts aside his feelings for the sake of Dukat's warped sense of benevolence. Sisko's moral judgement was not making their dynamic less compelling, it was more compelling precisely because Sisko refused to accept Dukat's supposed good intentions. Sisko made his judgement because he's a flawed man who drew a line in the sand defining the point where he stopped caring about how much someone "wants" to be a good person. It actually reminds me of a very good quote from Bojack Horseman which I think is very applicable to Waltz:

TODD: BoJack, just stop. You are all the things that are wrong with you. It's not the alcohol, or the drugs, or any of the shitty things that happened to you in your career, or when you were a kid. It's you. Okay? It's you. Fuck, man, what else is there to say?

You say that fans ignore the bad things the heroes do - but do they, actually? Because if you were playing a Trek-themed episode of Family Feud, "gray morality" would be a pretty high up there as an answer to the question of what fans like so much about DS9. In the Pale Moonlight is easily universally considered one of the greatest episodes of Trek ever. Garek is one of the most beloved characters not just because of shipping, but also because he exists with one foot lodged in an alien mindset.

But what ARE Dukat's compelling traits? That he was a "noble demon"? I like that archetype, but frankly, those are dime a dozen. I'm not going to say anyone is wrong for preferring one thing or another in the media they consume, but I personally don't see how that's more interesting that what we got, which was someone who genuinely believed he was a good person but just wasn't and was blinded by that until it took everything away from him until all he had left was rage, finally abandoning trying to appeal to people he saw as hopelessly, cruelly biased against him.

I understand being invested in a character and then disappointed when the narrative makes them turn out to be an asshole in the end, but the signs were always there. It was always a part of Dukat.

Finally, I wasn't thinking people who think Dukat was right are fascists, but "why don't you join law enforcement and get real criminals off the street" is a very strange thing to say when attempting to prove one is normal about a Space Nazi.

Mostly unrelated to what I was saying but people who believe Dukat was right until the writers derailed his arc into Satanism are wild. Yes, his arc took a swerve towards outward turbo-evil, but only because people weren't getting the message. As early as the second season it was established his last act as prefect was to deliberately strand Cardassian children on Bajor so that years later he would be able to use it to embarrass a political rival, what are you TALKING about.