#anyway i just asked them to check the accounts activity and give me a solid answer. if its not open its fine ill just clench my fists

[puppyeared]

fighting tooth nail and tail for the puppy url

#wish me luck #just picture me opening and closing my hands in a strangling motion. current puppy i could treat her so much better. i will usurp you #idk how faulty tumblrs url releasing is because. they said on the guidelines. theyd release any dormant/inactive accs #but when i went to send my report on the quick faq they said they. dont release any terminated/dormant account urls. so #i attached a screencap of the blog and a picture of that specific line on the guidelines page so they can see where im getting it from #am i taking this too seriously? is it really worth it to have the puppy url? am i being petty? #if it means taking less than 5-10 min to write my url because there are seven (7) p's in my username and i keep losing count. well #anyway i just asked them to check the accounts activity and give me a solid answer. if its not open its fine ill just clench my fists #and then forget my rage and bitterness in a week #yapping

[grain-my-beloved]

Yknow what? I'd actually go so far as to say that, as much as ive seen it complained about, it's actually pretty hard to "UwU" or "Woobify" Grian within the context of yhs.

I mean. It's possible if you go really extreme with it, but it's hard.

Grian at his core is actually a primarily decent person most of the timeand is a primarily innocent party in most things. One who goes through a Lot.

If you really think about it Grian's moral compass isn't too far off normal basic human morality. He's often anxious and hesitant when faced with any involvement in criminal activity, he's frequently dismayed and offput by suggestions of violence (the less deserved the more dismay is expressed as well), he's disappointed and frustrated at seeing the people around him do fucked up things, he's almost always polite with a good head on his shoulders when faced with a kind or reasonable person. Even well into ts, long after first coming back to Japan, Grian is still incredibly uneasy and fidgety with the suggestion that he take part in violence, I mean, remember that time he, Taurtis, and Sam were tasked with killing Geode and Grian not only initially tried to refuse outright but then checked in shakily with the other two multiple times just to confirm if they were really going to kill someone. Grian's typically the character most likely in the entire series to be incredibly put off by and very hesitant about doing bad things (especially to people he's not one million percent certain deserve it).

And while one could argue that we can't really praise his moral compass for being hesitant about involving himself in crime/wrongdoing when he often ends up participating anyways. Actions speak louder than words and all. However I disagree. The fact that Grian vocally does not wish to be involved in this kind of thing and has proven to behave on the more reasonable and polite side when acting independently in relation to likewise level headed people....is Very important. In fact, in actual legal cases, oftentimes a factor in trying individuals is the question of whether they would commit the crime in question indepently or under normal circumstances. This is the basis for necessity, duress, and insanity pleas, amoung other's. People who would not act the way they did in a certain scenario under normal circumstances are often liable to be judged favourably in their actions. In fact, speaking of duress pleas, Grian's got a pretty solid one for a lot of his actions. The times Sam or Yuki held a knife to his throat or the times police threatened to kill him if he doesn't comply with orders or any alike incidents. In cases where duress isn't applicable to Grian's behaviour there are oftentimes incidents in which an outright case for violence in self defense can be made. In fact, most of Grian's circumstances leave him very viable to be judged sympathetically on a legal standpoint. The fact that he was a minor, the fact that he had no apparent history of violence or crime, the fact that he was in a severely abusive relationship with a criminal and entering said relationship marked the start of any sort of criminal behaviour from Grian, any criminal behaviour from Grian always being in a group setting never lead by himself, the fact that he always clearly and openly protests when pulled into these group settings, the duress and self defense pleas that are applicable to pretty much all incidents in which he does engage. Which are also all factors that can and should be accounted for on. a moral basis as well, obviously. And like, Grian has a reputation for being arrogant, cynical, and rude or whatever, but he's really not. He very rightfully calls out other people's horrible bullshit and makes snappy remarks towards his abuser but that's the opposite of a problem and Grian's proven himself more than capable of reasonable civility towards reasonable people. Grian just isn't the selfish arrogant disrespectful criminal that he's sometimes implied to be and in fact he's largely innocent- or absolvable, if you'd rather- in most of the things levied against him. Grian's not a literal saint giving to the needy and taking care of orphans in his spare time but he's a decent guy overall???

And hey, speaking of that super abusive relationship Grian landed in. Let's not forget the impact of that situation. Sam was undoubtedly abusive towards Grian. He threatened Grian's life various times, he basically told Grian he was nothing compared to Taurtis, he shoved plastic down Grian's throat and laughed when he choked, he got Grian locked up in solitary confinement through complete lies just because he thought it'd be entertaining I guess, he forced Grian to kiss an abnormally large amount of people against his will (some of these instances sam recorded despite being asked not to), he himself tried to make out with Grian without consent while Grian was sleeping in his own private room, he forcefully dressed Grian up in feminine cosplay meant to be ~attractive~ complete with fake breasts, he lied to Grian about the gender identity of someone Grian dated as a joke (his words) and lightly mocked Grian afterwards, he locked Grian in a basement for three days straight and it's unclear whether or not he was planning to let him out anytime soon, he dragged Grian into a closet with school staff despite Grian's very vocal distress and discomfort then scolded Grian for considering reported it when this staff member made uncomfortable comments on the outfit Sam had forced Grian into, Sam offered to give Grian to another guy who made a similar uncomfortable comment later on as part of some trade, he consistently dragged Grian against his will into criminal activity whether by threatening him, tricking him into participating, or just altogether falsely implicatng him, amoung Many other things. And every step of the way Sam did his best to completely gaslight Grian. He used every gaslighting technique in the book. Telling blatant lies (for example, "i would never stab taurtis", "you are taurtis", "grian's crazy and he stabbed taurtis"), he denies doing shit to Grian that Grian knows damn well he did ("i would never stab taurtis"). He hard projected his bs onto Grian (from blaming grian for 'making' sam do awful shit sam did to claiming grian actually fullstop did the awful shit sam did). He was just constantly trying to turn people against Grian (convincing yuki and taurtis to back him up in calling grian a bad manipulative friend and insisting he needed to apologize for 'making' sam horrifically abuse him. arriving in the police station and instantly without hesitation telling them grian was crazy and dangerous and pinning his own crimes on grian. having taurtis back him up and help scold grian for getting mad about being locked in the basement for days). Telling Grian he's crazy (taurtis incident again, solitary confinement incident, the time sam kissed grian without his consent while he slept and grian got mad). Telling everyone else that Grian's a manipulative liar (taurtis incident again, solitary confinement incident again). Yknow. Gaslighting. Sam was just so unbelievably abusive. In like. Every possible way. Which adds a LOT of trauma to Grian. That on top of his parents abandoning him as a little kid too because we couldn't leave it at severe abuse.

Grian's not a bad person. And he's certainly a very sympathetic person. Which is why it would be hard to woobify yhs Grian. It would be hard to make a very sympathetic very sad character egregiously sympathetic and sad. His whole arc is getting abandoned by his parents, going to visit his friends, and getting violently abused and forced into a multitude of disturbing activities against his will for an extended period of time.

One could argue that sure Grian isn't a bad person and sure Grian's got a pretty sad life, but certainly a lot of people are guilty of making Grian more helpless and scared and generally 'pathetic' than he is in canon.

To which I reply...not really?

Grian already doesn't have half the fight response people ascribe to him throughout the series. That was a whole other post but honestly Grian's response to traumatic situations is very frequently to cave to them and he's got a much stronger submissive streak than people often admit. I mean, Grian was asked to dress up as his best friend who just got stabbed "to make things less awkward and make me feel better" and he did it within ten seconds of being asked without the others even needing to threaten him at all. Grian does express quite a bit of despair, fear, and submissive tendency in canon when faced with dangerous or traumatic situations. And while it's possible to go a bit too far with that if you consistently leave out the token fight entirely, I see people swing way too far un the opposite direction way too often. There's a reason Grian never actually killed Sam in canon. There's a reason Grian never made a serious attempt to get him arrested for his crimes. There's a reason Grian never just left. When Sam found Grian after he ran out of the gym during the Taurtis incident? Grian didn't lunge for Sam. There was no serious altercation between the two. Grian scrambled back and tearfully babbled platitudes while shoving plastic down his own throat on command. And even beyond that, a lot of the interpretations accused of making Grian too helpless/scared/'pathetic' are works that involve Grian processing trauma years after the fact. Which. Even if Grian was the most aggressive on edge fighter in the history of trauma responses during the traumatic events? People don't process their trauma after the fact the same way they instinctively respond in the moment. Even if Grian never shed a tear throughout any of the traumatic ordeals he experienced, it would be far from unrealistic behaviour for him to still process after the fact by panicking and sobbing his eyes out regularly. Which, again, Grian wasn't even all that fight oriented while it was happening so panic and tears isn't even super far removed from his actual in the moment responses let alone processing after-responses. It's just. It's really hard to "UwU" Grian tbh. He's a decent person, he went through hell (his own words actually), and he was never even really very effectively aggressive when he did. And while it's possible to dip too far into that territory, far more often I see things swung egregiously far in the other direction.

#yhs #yandere highschool #yhs grian

[marinetteplztakeabreak]

okay now that we’re in the middle of a hiatus and the fandom is mostly calmed down

I’m one of the very few people who’s actually hoping for a Lila redemption arc? I don’t want her to be friends with Adrien or Marinette or anyone she’s really really hurt, but she is still like 14 and we don’t know her full story and I honestly want to see her grow and be a person and make some actual friends and get some hobbies. Again, I think she’s burned the bridge with a few characters, but that doesn’t mean she can’t ever be friends with anyone else

and anyway, my ideal takedown/ redemption arc for Lila is one where she unknowingly lies about having several disabilities that other students in the class actually do have

BUT I don’t want it in a “oh actually, Lila, you dumb fool, I have real medically diagnosed tinnitus, so I know that’s not how it works, haha everyone look at Lila the stupid liar” kind of way

I want them to be like stupid levels of understanding and try to bond with her

(detailed explanation of my Lila arc under the cut, obviously don’t read if you’re uncomfortable with the idea of Lila being redeemed)

Lila is like “oh... actually... I can’t participate in the PE final... I have scoliosis... that I just found out about right now” and Juleka is like “oh! I have scoliosis too!” and Lila is panicking because she’s about to be called a fraud, but instead Juleka just happily sits with her for the entire PE final and rambles about stuff and is super happy to have a bench buddy

Alix mentions that she has tinnitus and Lila is like “wait what? why aren’t you in front of the class?” and Alix is like “oh, for me it’s kind of a waves thing? on good days, I can hear her from anywhere in the classroom, and on bad days, nothing can really help me hear? so Ms. Bustier just gives me lecture notes that I can read and it works for me.” And Lila is completely expecting to be called a fraud but Alix is just like “it’s super cool that it does help you, though! everyone’s different! If you ever want to compare notes about what helps, you can text me!”

Lila starts to say the beginning of a well practiced and overly researched speech about how she can’t go on a field trip because she has a super rare medical condition and Max just pulls her aside and is like “hey, I know it can be scary and you feel like you have to justify yourself, but you really don’t have to give super personal information all the time. It’s totally fine if you are comfortable, but really, I know from personal experience that Ms Bustier and this class are super understanding. You can just say ‘personal reasons’ or something and we’ll all leave you alone. You’re allowed to have privacy.” and Lila is like “huh”

this is getting long but basically, eventually she talks to someone in the class with ADHD or anxiety, I’m going to say Alya for now, so she literally catches Lila lying about knowing some celebrity, and instead of being angry or judgemental she’e super discreet about it, she pulls her aside like “hey, I know it feels hard to make friends, but I promise you, people do think you’re interesting as you are, and we care more about you than the people you know.” and she doesn’t even call Lila out for lying? she’s literally just like “u dont have to know celebrities”

and then Lila actually finds out that there’s at least one actual compulsive liar in the class. And, if you didn’t know, Lila’s not an actual compulsive liar, and I’m not going to get into a rant about that now but... She lies on purpose, and tells planned lies with an agenda, whereas compulsive liars don’t usually plan to lie or have a reason for lying. So anyway, Lila gets actually caught lying, and someone, lets just say Nino for the sake of picking a character, is like “hey i know its hard but you do still have to apologize, even if you did your best, you still messed up and you’ve got to own up to it. I believe you that you’re trying to be better but you can’t just use mental illness as an excuse.” and Lila pulls out the fake tears and is like “you don’t understand-” and Nino is (not in a rude way, just trying to be kind) like “I can’t understand you exactly, no, but I literally did have a problem with compulsive lying and I have a therapist, so if you want to talk about it I probably understand more than you know” and Lila is like “oh.”

and anyway, Lila’s arc doesn’t come through someone she’s harassed trying to defend her, and it doesn’t come from her being traumatized into being nice, it just comes from her classmates treating her like a human person, and doing their best to understand her while also actually finding ways to make things accessible to her so she stops being able to get out of things. And then it turns to “hey Lila, just so you know, you don’t HAVE to give explanations for not wanting to go places, you can just SAY if you’re uncomfortable.” and she starts getting called out on it a little bit more, but in a friendly way. Her classmates are just like “Lila please just tell us what you want, I don’t need your medical history, I’m not going to do a background check, just, say you want to borrow a jacket and I’ll let you borrow it. I literally have an extra hoodie”

But simultaneously, everyone with a disability “in common” with her starts latching on to her and opening up, and they actually hold her accountable for listening to their needs. And Lila, who already has the mindset of “oh u are legally required to help Disabled Person or everyone will hate you,” which is literally the basis of half of her plans, is now surrounded by classmates who are asking for her help with reading things because they’re dyslexic, or asking her to grab a textbook from across the room, and asking her if she has any heating pads, and, well, Mylene actually bought her some heating pads when she was faking having cramps earlier, so she might as well lend those out so that she can get more credit with her classmates

And it’s not because she *cares* obviously, she’s just doing it to get them to rely on her, and to get on their good side

and then she’s invited to join the disabled students activism club, and it would look suspicious if she didn’t join, so she agrees, and then whoops, she is now working to do actual charity work-- because it’s really nice to have such solid evidence for her claims, and some charity work that she can actually point to solid evidence for if she ever gets called out-- and honestly it is pretty stupid that its so hard to get accommodations on tests for students with anxiety, because aren’t those the students who are the most afraid to talk to the teachers-- not that Lila cares. And it’s super dumb that no one even knows proper etiquette for helping people in wheelchairs,, and people keep Leaving Things in the Hallways that make it too narrow, and-- Lila doesn’t care at all though, and she definitely doesn’t care about her “friends” in the club because they’re not her friends, and she totally does not cry when she finds out that most of them are literally self-diagnosed, and then it turns out that Mylene was actually wrong, and she probably doesn’t have Lyme disease like she thought, and no one judges her or treats her any different? they’re all just like “oh thats great! glad you could keep getting new information!”

and Lila realizes that literally no one will be mad if it turns out she doesn’t have any disabilities. Except also, she’s starting to become more and more sure that she Does have several things wrong with her, because apparently it’s Not Normal to feel constantly on guard when she’s around other people, and apparently it’s Not Normal to just have days where you literally cannot drag yourself out of bed in the morning and then get hit with terror that if you tell anyone about how numb you feel they’ll immediately think you’re unworthy as a human being, and she’s like, oh, huh, i should  look into that

and anyway Lila doesn’t even try to be a good person at first she just wakes up one day and is like “what the heck when did i get actual friends and passions and hobbies,, i did not sign up for this” but she does start making an effort to be worthy of them and she ends up growing a whole ton once she’s given a support system

and anyway i know lots of people are uncomfy with Lila and that’s fine, but i’m continuously a sucker for “evil devil child is actually a pretty decent human being once their basic needs are met and they feel safe” trope

#long post #lila rossi #miraculous ladybug #ml #i do not know how to tag this #trying to not tag my hate but also not attract the specific people who would hate on this #let me know if theres any tags that need to be added

[shinesurge]

I’ve been holding off on making this post because I wanted to try it out myself and get settled in and make sure everything went okay, but seeing as I’ve gone ahead and updated my site and everything I thought now might be a good time to start talking about this publicly! 

If you’ve known me for more than five minutes you know I fucking hate Webtoon, like, a lot. Every aspect of it disgusts me to the core of my being, and while Webtoon is the ugliest version of them the aspects that I hate also extend to basically any comic aggregate site. I hate that they treat artists like content robots, I hate that they treat comic readers like morons who aren’t capable of engaging with complex stories, I hate that they actively try to strip away all the cool parts of indie comics by cultivating sterile and impersonal environments that discourage artistic experimentation and unique expression.

So! I hope you’ll be interested in what I have to say about this new platform that’s (hopefully) going to be out of alpha this summer. If you think you like reading comics on Webtoon, I really encourage you to check out Dillyhub once it launches. That’s the short version, but I have a LOT to say about this! So I’m putting the rest of this under a cut.

Full disclosure, I’m not getting paid or anything for this. The creative outreach at Dillyhub contacted me a few weeks ago asking if I’d be interested in having Kidd Commander be one of their launch titles when they go live this summer. I was hesitant at first, since I actively distrust anything claiming to be For Creators at this point, but they answered my pushy questions patiently and everything seemed on the up and up so I gave it a shot; I’ve been needing a mobile mirror for KC anyway. Eventually they invited me to the alpha creator discord, where they’ve been working directly with all of us artists to improve the platform, and now to be honest I’m REALLY excited for this thing to get off the ground. Nobody asked me to make this post, but since I’ve spent years whining and bitching about how other services do wrong by their creators, I thought I’d talk about this one that’s doing things right.

So, the biggest advantage this site has for creators over others in my opinion is that it. Treats us like individuals, regardless of follower count lmfao. If you’re a new person just starting out with your new webcomic, here’s what webtoon does for you:

Note: you don’t get a custom banner, you don’t even get to choose the solid color it is. That big circle icon is ALSO the image that shows up in searches, but everywhere else on the site it’s a 100x100px square, so you have to choose whether you want it to look good as a giant circle at the top of your comic’s page OR whether you want to look good in search results. Which, by the way, is the ONLY way for people to find you if you’re not partnered. And that’s it! You have no monetization options, you won’t show up on the genre pages, and when someone DOES stumble across your page it looks super unprofessional. Good Luck! 

Now here’s my Dillyhub page(s):

You don’t get a static banner and one icon, you get a whole carousel banner with as many images as you want front and center as soon as you get to the project page. You get seven (custom!) genre tags, as opposed to Webtoon’s single tag you have to pick from their list, and plenty of room to talk about your work. The episodes are even laid out better, you get a MUCH bigger preview space to work with and they’re nice and big on the bottom half of the page:

you know, like they’re actually presenting ART lmfao.

That’s already an ENORMOUS improvement, but here’s my favorite thing.

o hm that’s a lot of super cushy settings I have for every individual episode, but what’s that, Episode Type?

LIKE.

listen, i know this is probably a bit specialized if you’re not a comic maker yourself, but this is a HUGE DEAL. You can post vertically OR page by page! You can even post pages two at a time for double page spreads, or so they read like a physical comic book! AND their specs are really open, as long as the file meets the size requirement you can make it whatever shape you want. You don’t have to reformat all your shit to post here!! I posted the entire first volume of KC STRAIGHT FROM THE PRINT FILES in like half an hour!!! The episodes can also be any amount of pages, you can post a single page or an entire chapter all in one go!

So that’s just the project page for the comic, let’s see what happens when I click on my username there.

Each author gets their own unique page (which you can tack a vanity url to!) to present themselves however they want! You always have the banner at the top, but beyond that you have a ton of options. Among other incredibly useful tools that really should just be bare fucking minimum at this point, like the ability to preview your page on different devices, you start customizing your blank page with this set of widgets,

and from THERE you can customize them MORE, you can promote your patreon or your kickstarter or whatever! Having this creator space ALSO means that if you run several comics, or if you want to promote your comic AND your illustrations, you can just separate them into individual projects! Each with their own page! This is also really nice as a reader because you can subscribe to a creator but you can also just subscribe to specific projects, if you don’t want to get ALL of their stuff in your inbox. It’s so good y’all hh.

Once again, all of this functionality is just THERE as soon as you make your account. You don’t need to be “partnered” or whatever the fuck, you don’t need to meet a certain follower threshold to unlock the ability to operate normally. You get your own creator space to present yourself how you prefer, you get pages for all your projects, you can even set up monetization options (and change them for individual pages IN a project) right from the start.

ok ok let’s compare this to my webtoon page

oh that’s right webtoon just puts your greyed out name at the bottom of each comic and that’s it because human beings don’t make this stuff, my bad lol anyway

Other fun shit that Dillyhub does that makes me feel like they’re people who have actually consumed or made comics on the internet at some point in their lives:

-When you log into the “studio” space, you’re in your creator account. When you log OUT of the studio space, it’s like you swap to a “reader” account, where you can access your pull list and comment on things with a different name and profile icon. Again, maybe only cool if you’re a creator, but if you ARE then you know exactly why this is incredibly useful lmao

-You can set up “hidden” projects, so if you only want certain things to be accessible by certain people or to not show up in searches that’s an option! You have SO much control here it’s great.

-The comment section has moderation options GODDD. You also have a real comment space, you know, so it actually encourages building a community (and a rapport with your community, if you like), and you also can just turn comments off entirely if you want! I haven’t used it much yet, obviously, but it’s been made very clear in the discord that artists want better control over their comment sections and the devs have it on their priority list.

-Absolutely every step of customization gives you a preview before it’s live, so you can easily see what these images you’re posting in different places are going to look like before you beam them to your followers’ inboxes. This includes individual episodes!

-This was sort of in one of the screenshots but it’s important so I’m saying it here too: the option to mark individual episodes as mature or with content warnings, rather than having to mark an entire comic as Mature Spooky Scary Content because of one or two pages getting a bit hairy.

This site is only in alpha right now, and it’s invite-only until they get to beta (for creators; anyone can make a reader account! but they haven’t set up a way to browse comics without direct links yet so) but honest to god it’s already blowing every other site I’ve used clean out of the water. And the staff has been really kind and responsive to us proposing fixes or changes! I will always defend individual websites as being the best option for an indie comic, but everybody’s gotta start somewhere and we NEED something that isn’t Tumblr or Webtoon to fill this role; this site feels a lot more like a symbiotic relationship than any of the other staples available for new creators right now. If you’re a comic reader and you want to see your favorite comics on Dillyhub I’d suggest keeping an eye on this site and once it’s live start poking them to look into it, and if you’re a creator follow their social media and hop in when they open up for anybody to join. I would LOVE to see this site take off as a viable option for hosting and reading comics.

Thanks for reading all this! I haven’t quite finished setting up yet, but if you want to poke around a project/creator page for yourself mine is here have at it. As things progress I’m sure I’ll have more to say, but since I’m usually so aggressively negative about places like this I just wanted to give some credit where it was due. fucking finally.

#long post #i want this site to obliterate webtoon so fucking bad lmfao

[snowdice]

Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 54]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22

It’s a cleaning day and then maybe an editing day later for what I wrote last night, so we might be doing this for a while (assuming nothing gets in my way.)

Chapter 23

Logan was unsurprised that after showing Virgil the large courtyard, Patton almost immediately decided to instigate a game of tag. They were, after all, here with the goal of getting Virgil a bit active after having had him only in Logan’s room for weeks.

He was also unsurprised that Virgil seemed confused about the concept of tag, and Patton had to explain the game in detail to him.

It made him wince, but he still was unsurprised when Virgil went about inquiring after the consequences of losing the game.

He was, however, very surprised when, after getting all of the facts about tag settle, Patton was chasing after Virgil trying to tag him and suddenly the boy disappeared.

 Patton almost ran into a wall in his confusion. He stared at his hands stretched out and just a couple of inches from touching the wall for a moment, before slowly looking up.

“Virgil!” Patton exclaimed. “What?”

“What?” he asked.

“…What are you even hanging onto?”

“The wall,” Virgil replied.

Logan walked closer to the two of them and tilted his head up to look at him. Virgil had jumped up and somehow managed to find hand and foot holes on the seemingly smooth wall. He climbed about 5 meters above their heads and was peering down at them curiously.

 “Okay,” Logan said. “New rule. Virgil is not allowed to scale walls during tag.”

Virgil frowned down at him. “Why only me?”

“Because Patton and I cannot do that anyway,” Logan said. “We would not be able to actually play if you remain up there.”

Patton glanced over at him and reached over to touch Logan’s shoulder. “No tag backs,” he said. Logan glared at him. “Why don’t you come down sweetie?”

“But Logan will tag me,” he said.

“Well, honey, that’s part of the fun,” Patton reasoned. “Don’t you want to try being it?”

Virgil seemed to consider this for a long moment. “Okay,” he agreed.

 To Logan’s terror, he simply let go of the wall, falling straight down and landing crouched. He blinked at Logan. Right. With a start, Patton took off, so he’d have a head start. “No tag backs means a 10 second head start for me,” Logan reminded. Virgil nodded, and Logan reached out to poke him in the arm before immediately running off in the opposite direction as Patton.

Logan’s strategy worked out since, knowing he couldn’t go after Logan for a few seconds more, he chose to turn and go after Patton. After finding one of the statues to hide behind on the edge of the courtyard, Logan risked glancing back.

 Virgil was faster than Logan (and likely Patton) had accounted for. Patton had gotten a good head start on him, but Virgil closed it quickly. Patton shrieked as Virgil barreled into him, bringing them both to the ground.

“Virgil!” Logan heard Patton giggle. Logan figured he was more than okay despite the tackle. “This isn’t how you play tag!”

“I combined tag and tackle hugs,” Virgil declared, making Patton giggle more.

“That’s very innovative, honey,” Patton said. “Now are you going to let me up?...Virgil… I’m counting down your 10 second head start in my head, and if you don’t let me up I’m going to tag you again.”

 This did not seem to have the intended effect as Virgil did not remove himself from Patton’s person. Patton laugh when it became clear he was not going to move and began counting down “7, 6, 5, 4, you’d better let me go sweetie, or you’re going to get tagged again.” Virgil did not seem to care. “3, 2, 1.” Patton reached up and bopped him on the nose. “Tag!” he declared.

Logan was surprised when Virgil instantly jumped off Patton at that. He whipped around.

‘Oh,’ Logan thought as the boy’s eyes narrowed in on Logan immediately, ‘I see.’

 “Virgil was already halfway across the courtyard towards him before Logan could even think about running away. There was no way that he was fast enough to outrun him. Perhaps he could outthink him, he thought. His eyes scanned his environment in the seconds he had left and landed on a large square piece of stone that held flowers in the spring. It was just full of dirt now, but it was still about waist high. Perhaps if he kept that between them, he could outmaneuver him. He sprinted towards it and scrambled to the opposite side from where Virgil was heading.

 He really should not have been as surprised as he was that Virgil did not even slightly slow as he approached the planter box, instead grabbing ahold of the side of it and vaulting over it. Logan stumbled back, bracing for impact, but instead he just got a quick tap on the shoulder.

Logan blinked at him.

“I don’t know if you would be okay with tackle hugs,” he explained.

Logan considered him. “I would be okay with a nontackle hug.”

Virgil happily jumped forward to hug Logan, pressing his nose into Logan’s shoulder. Logan chuckled and patted the top of his head. “Six,” he said, “5, 4, 3…”

 Virgil bolted away suddenly, actually making Logan stumble a bit. He paused just out of reach of Logan, looking at him with anticipation. “2,1,” Logan finished with a raised eyebrow. He already knew he was being played with, but he indulged him by starting towards him. Virgil danced out of the way, eyes alight. Logan sighed. “Is this truly how it’s going to be?” he asked.

Virgil didn’t answer, but to watch him with wide, excited eyes.

“Fine,” Logan said. He dashed towards him again, only to have him continue to maneuver just out of Logan’s reach each time Logan went forward. He’d call it taunting if there was any sign of malice in it.

 They ran around the courtyard in spirts of Logan charging at him and Virgil expertly dodging. Eventually Patton came closer to them. Logan could tell that Virgil was aware of his presence, by how he glanced back at him briefly, but considering he was not ‘it,’ it seemed he chose to disregard him. However, he was not aware of the way Patton winked at Logan as he walked up behind Virgil.

Logan, on the other hand, knew exactly what was happening. He went to spring for Virgil again, and Virgil again moved to dodge, but this time Patton grabbed him around the waist, allowing Logan to actually tag him.

 He turned slowly to face Patton who started to giggle immediately at the perplexed look on his face. It cleared into something else as soon as he heard Patton laugh. “Traitor!” he claimed. “We were on the same team and you betrayed me.”

“I just thought we should probably have mercy on poor Logan,” Patton replied.

“Hmm,” Virgil said, eyes again full of that playful mischief Logan had not seen until today. “Plea for mercy not accepted.”

Patton once again half-shrieked half-laughed as he was pounced on. The two of them went rolling across the grass, Virgil clearly keeping the rolling going longer than it should have as they made it a good few meters.

 Virgil sprung off of him a few moments later.

“Oh, is it my turn?” Patton inquired with a huge smile. He slowly got to his feet. “Hmm, I’m probably at about 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!” He took off after Virgil, but Patton had a bit more endurance than Logan, so instead of doing quickly calculated lunges at Virgil as Logan had done, he just ran at him full tilt without stopping.

Virgil ran from him, though Logan was pretty sure he was intentionally slowing himself down a bit so Patton had some amount of a chance. He kept turning to check behind him and make sure Patton was still somewhat close as he ran.

Which is why he didn’t see the imminent disaster in time.

  Chapter 24

Thomas should have been paying more attention, but his mind had been on the meeting he’d just had with the castle guards about increased security in the wake of the possible threat from Mocnejsi. He’d decided to take a brief walk around the courtyard to clear his head but was still distracted with mulling over the options that had just been presented to him. He stepped into the castle courtyard and did not have time to step out of the way of the much smaller body rocketing towards him. Virgil slammed into his front, but not before Thomas got a good look at his face.

 Virgil’s expression changed dramatically in the few seconds between him registering Thomas was there and running into him. For the briefest moment, Thomas could see that he must have been having a lot of fun. He’d caught the wide smile and sparkling eyes as Virgil turned his head back from looking at Patton who was chasing him across the greenery. He’d looked very happy which made it all the more painful to see that happiness die in and a few instants. When his head had turned back towards Thomas, there was a flicker of confusion at something being in his path.

 Then, clearly everything about the situation registered, because his eyes blew wide in horror as he tried to stop himself, but there was no way he’d be able to in time. Thomas saw that fact register on his face the moment before he hit. Gone was any trace of happiness or joy in that split second. All that was left was dread that had no place anywhere near a children’s game of tag. It was the expression Thomas would expect from someone who felt ice give way under their feet in the middle of a lake they had thought was frozen solid.

 He hit hard, but he wasn’t nearly big enough to actually harm Thomas. Thomas was thrown slightly off balance but managed to stay on his feet. He reached out a hand to his shoulder automatically to steady the child. There was a moment of pseudo calm where they both absorbed the impact and stilled.

Then, the boy’s shoulder slipped out of Thomas’s grip as he went crashing to the ground in a move that made Thomas wince for the state of his knees. Thomas couldn’t quite grasp what was happening for a moment as Virgil face planted onto the ground in front of him, but when he did, Thomas couldn’t help but flinch and take a step back from him.

 Thomas had been bowed to before, of course, seeing as he was a king, but this was not out of respect or courtesy or even just tradition. This was out of terror. He was begging for mercy and it made Thomas feel sick.

“I’m sorry,” he said, meek and shaky into the ground, and there was almost something worse about the fact that he did not beg for forgiveness with his words, but only his posture. The way his breathes came far too quick and shallow said he was likely on the verge of a panic attack, but he was not blubbering through apologies or even not speaking at all. He gave a clear, if shaky, apology, and waited for whatever he thought Thomas planned to do to him. There was no way that was not learned.

 “You don’t…” Thomas stuttered. “You don’t have to do that. It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again, but he reacted in no other way. He did not even react when Patton made it to his side and knelt down next to him. Patton’s hand hovered over his back, clearly wanting to touch down, but he pulled back on that instinct.

“Virgil, honey,” he said softly. “It’s okay. No one is mad. It was an accident.”

Virgil did not react to this at all.

Thomas caught Logan’s eye as he hurried over to them himself. “Sorry,” Thomas mouthed. Logan just nodded and turned his attention to his friend.

 “There is no reason for any of that,” Logan said, his voice firm, almost clipped. “You are not in trouble. Now sit up.”

Virgil did respond to that, slowly shifting back on his knees. He kept his head down looking at the ground. “Sorry,” he said again.

“I…” Thomas said, surveying the three kids on the ground in front of him. Thomas slowly sunk to the ground to be at their level. Virgil was tracking his movements out of the corner of his eyes, his head still bowed and his shoulders tensed. “Hey,” Thomas said softly. “Were you three playing tag?”

 Virgil hesitated, eyes flickering as he debated whether he should respond or not.

“Yeah, we were,” Patton answered for him after a moment of stressful silence.

“Well that’s fun,” Thomas said. “I’m sorry for interrupting the three of you. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

Virgil glanced up at him for just a moment before looking away again. Patton apparently felt it was safe enough to touch Virgil, because he settled a hand on the boys shoulder.

“Yeah, we’ve just been having a fun day,” Patton said, carefully matching Thomas’s light tone. “We went to the garden and did some reading. Then, Mr. Deknis gave us some apples.”

 “That’s nice,” Thomas replied. “He’s been talking about the new apples he’s been growing. He’s been working on them for years and they’re just beginning to bare fruit this year. I haven’t gotten a chance to try any yet. Are they any good?”

“They’re very good,” Patton told him. His hand rubbed slowly on Virgil’s back. “Isn’t that right, Virge?”

Virgil nodded a bit, a little less tense now, but still nowhere near calm.

“Well, I’ll have to try them soon,” Thomas said with a smile. “Thank you for the information. Now, I’ve got to get back to what I’m doing, but I hope you three have a good day.”

 “I’ll see you later, Dad,” Logan said.

Thomas nodded and pushed himself to his feet. “Goodbye you three,” he said before turning away towards the door back into the castle. He paused to take a breath when the door closed behind him, cutting off the courtyard. There were a lot of thoughts to shirt through in regards to that conversation. He hated that Virgil was so obviously terrified of him. Both of their two interactions had ended with the poor thing panicking on the ground. He wished he had some idea of how to help him or at least someone to talk to about it.

Maybe he’d go visit Mr. Deknis himself and not just for the apples.

  Chapter 25

“Alright,” Patton said, pressing a kiss to Virgil’s forehead. “I’ve got to go back to my room for the night. Will you two be okay?”

“We’ll be fine,” Logan said. “It won’t be particularly different than the last two weeks.”

Patton nodded and leaned to the side to squeeze Virgil in another hug. He’d been clingy since the incident in the courtyard, and Virgil had been appreciative considering he was still pretty shaky from it. He was still surprised he’d touched the king of Prijaznia (let alone ran into him) and lived to tell the tale.

“Goodnight, Pat,” Virgil said because he was pretty sure he wouldn’t leave if Virgil didn’t.

 “Night Virge,” Patton said with a smile before standing up from where they’d been sitting on the ground. He reached over to hug Logan who was sitting on a chair. “Night Lo! Put the book down and go to bed.”

Logan looked up from his book with a frown.

“It’s almost midnight,” Patton scolded.

Logan sighed and set his book down. “Very well,” he agreed. “We will get ready for bed.”

“You better! I’m going to come and wake you up early in the morning.”

“Early in the morning for you is 9am,” Logan scoffed.

Patton stuck his tongue out at him as he walked backwards out of the door.

 Logan gave his book a mournful look once the door closed and Virgil almost giggled. “I won’t tell on you,” he said.

Logan thought about it for a few moments. “No,” he finally said. “We should probably get some sleep.”

Virgil nodded and pushed himself to his feet.

“We should probably both take a bath after sitting in the dirt today,” Logan said. “Do you want to go first or should I?”

“Don’t care,” Virgil answered.

“You can go first,” Logan offered.

Virgil felt himself smile. “You just want to finish the chapter in that book,” he accused.

“Perhaps,” Logan conceded.

 Virgil just grinned and walked over to his closet to grab one of the outfits he’d been given for pajamas. He chose a pair of baggy shorts that went past his knees and the huge soft black sweater Logan had found in the back of his closet. He headed into the bathroom, noting Logan had already picked up his book again.

Logan may have declared the both of them dirty enough for bathing a few minutes before, but Virgil was cleaner than he thought he’d ever been before coming to the castle. Logan had taught him how to use the tub and what soaps to use for what a couple of days after he’d arrived and had suggested he clean himself regularly.

 Virgil didn’t mind. The tub was enchanted to warm the water inside of it and Virgil loved it. Though, that had the negative affect of making it very difficult to leave.

He cleaned himself up quickly, so he’d have a few minutes to just sit in the water before he felt like he needed to get out and let Logan have a turn. He changed into his pajamas, pulling the crescent shaped protection charm out of his day clothes pocket and storing the warm to the touch stone in the short pocket. He used the clip Patton had made it to pin it to the cloth to make sure he wouldn’t lose it.

 Logan was engrossed in his reading by the time that Virgil exited the bathroom. He did not look up as Virgil approached.

“Your turn,” Virgil said to him.

Logan clearly just barely managed to tear his eyes away from the book. “Right,” he said. “Yes.”

“The book will be there in the morning,” Virgil reminded.

“I know,” said Logan sadly as he set the book aside.

Logan never took much time in the bath, so Virgil quickly went about getting ready for bed the rest of the way. He put his day clothes in the basket Logan had for that purpose and started to straighten out the blankets and pillows in the closet.

 He heard Logan come back into the room a few minutes later.

“Virgil,” Logan said. “What are you doing?”

Virgil looked over at him. “Getting ready for bed,” he answered, confused.

Logan frowned at him. “You don’t sleep in the closet anymore,” Logan said. “That’s only for when we were worried you might escape.”

“Oh,” Virgil said blinking over at him. “Right.” He felt a slight pulling at his chest. He liked the closet. It was warm and soft. Patton had taken a lot of care with how he’d arranged all of the pillows and blankets. It was the best place he could ever remember having to sleep in his life. Yet, he did not argue. He knew getting to sleep out in the open was supposed to be a reward and he wasn’t about to reject it.

 Virgil stood and closed the closet. He tugged on the bottom of his sweater, stretching the fabric between his hands as he watched Logan pull down the covers of his bed and settle down onto it. Cautiously he walked over towards the bed. He wasn’t sure where he should lay down exactly. He dithered for a moment before bending down to sit on the floor near the right side of Logan’s bed and then laying down.

There was shuffling on the bed above him and then Logan’s head popped over the side to squint down at him. “On the bed Virgil,” he said.

 Virgil looked up at him in shock. “But it… I’m…” He trailed off and there were a few seconds of silence.

“It is just a bed Virgil,” Logan said.

But it wasn’t ‘just’ anything. Virgil was pretty sure touching the bed of a royal family member without permission would be considered a capital offence. At least, it would in Mocnejsi. Yet, Logan was expecting him to just… crawl into it?

“Please just get up here,” Logan said. Virgil’s caution at touching something he was definitely sure he should not be allowed to be touching wared with his resolve to repay his literal life debt to Logan by doing whatever he wanted.

 Feeling honestly a bit sick to his stomach, Virgil slowly pushed himself back to his feet. Logan scooted back over to the left side of the bed, and Virgil cautiously sat down on the empty side of the bed. After a second of hesitation he slowly laid down, his head hitting a soft fluffy pillow. He jumped when Logan flopped the covers on top of both of them.

Virgil took a long moment to absorb the situation while Logan took off his glasses and reached over to turn off the light next to him. He’d never slept in a bed before, or if he had he’d been too young to remember. In the orphanage there was a lack of actual beds due to overcrowding and there had always been someone bigger and stronger that Virgil didn’t dare fight for the use of them. During training, none of the kids had a bed. Only a few of the higher ups had ones at the more permanent training sites. There were very few situations where any of the assassins, at least a Virgil’s level, would be allowed to touch a real bed.

 The light switched off, plunging them into darkness.

“Is this…?” Virgil said, eyes still pointed towards the ceiling even though his eyes had not adjusted to the darkness enough to be able to see it. “Do you want… things?”

“Things?” Logan asked.

Virgil did not move his head, but he did reach over and put his hand slightly above Logan’s knee. Logan didn’t move, so Virgil slid his hand up.

Virgil’s wrist was grabbed immediately and pulled firmly away from Logan’s inner thigh. He did not let go afterwards, his fingers squeezing hard, but not quite painfully. “Never,” Logan said, his voice harsher than it had ever been even on the day when Virgil was nothing more than an intruder with deadly intent. “Never offer anything like that to anyone ever again.”

 “I was just…”

“I know what you were doing,” Logan said, voice icy, “and it inadmissible. Never offer that again for anything. Do you understand me?”

“I... yes.”

“Promise me.”

Virgil took a short moment to think. “I promise,” he agreed.

“Good,” Logan said, releasing his hand. His voice got softer too. “Good.”

They were silent for a long time after that, though Virgil had no delusions that Logan had fallen asleep. He could almost feel the tension.

“Sorry,” Virgil finally said softly.

“It’s not something you should be apologizing for,” Logan replied. The bed moved as Logan shifted and a hand lightly touched the top of his head. “Just… never.”

 “Okay,” Virgil said. He shifted slightly after a moment until his head was in the crook of Logan’s arm. Logan brushed the hair out of his face with the hand that had been on his head.

“Goodnight Virgil,” Logan said.

“Goodnight,” Virgil responded. They were quiet after that, though Virgil was still awake for a while yet and Logan’s hand slowly stroked through his hair for a while. Eventually though, Virgil relaxed into mattress. He stuck his hand into his pocket and curled it around the charm in his pocket. The bed was nice, he thought. It was soft and warm… and safe. He finally fell asleep.

  Chapter 26

Patton did their new special knock on the door so Logan and Virgil would know it was just him and they didn’t need to hide the fact that Virgil was sleeping in the prince’s room. He didn’t wait for a response, however, and just shoved open the door. He was surprised to see that Logan was not already out of bed and wondered for a moment if he had broken his promise stayed up way too late reading like he was sometimes known to do. Yet, then, Logan spoke from the bed. “I’m awake,” he called.

Confused, Patton stepped into the room. Logan wasn’t one for lazing around in bed; usually he was out of bed the moment he woke.

 He stepped over to the bed and had to stifle a smile when he recognized the problem. Logan was awake, but Virgil was still sleeping, and he was half on top of Logan, his arms wrapped around him.

“Why don’t you just squirm out of his arms like you do me?” Patton asked, keeping his voice low.

“He isn’t like you,” Logan said. He did not bother to quiet himself at all.

“What do you mean?” Patton asked amused.

In answer, Logan started to move as though to squirm out of Virgil’s death grip on him. In response, Virgil made a pitiful mewling sound in his sleep that landed like a piercing blow straight to the heart. Logan stopped moving immediately and Virgil shifted to grip Logan tighter.

 “Aw!” Patton said.

“It’s not cute,” Logan insisted. “I’ve been stuck for hours and I have to pee.”

Patton chuckled. “Alright, alright, I’ll save you.” He rounded the bed to Virgil’s side and crawled up on it. “Virgil, honey,” he entreated softly. “I think it’s time for me to get cuddles so Lo can get up.” Patton softly touched Virgil’s shoulder and pulled at him gently. He reached forward to carefully pry Virgil’s arms off of Logan.

Virgil made a more confused than heartbreaking sound this time, turning towards Patton so Patton could wrap his arms around him. Logan managed to scoot towards the edge of the bed.

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Logan made it off the bed and dashed towards the bathroom as Virgil’s arms came around Patton and squeezed. Patton laughed and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. After a few moments, Virgil’s eyes started to flicker a bit.

“Good morning, honey,” Patton said softly. “Did you sleep good?”

He hummed sleepily. “Beds are nice,” he said. Patton felt a slight pang at that because it implied he didn’t get to sleep in beds very much, but he chose to shove that aside.

“They are,” Patton agreed. Virgil’s eyes started to close again. “Honey,” Patton laughed. “I think it’s time to wake up now.”

 Virgil made a sleepy whining sound, squeezing Patton tighter. “Don’t you want breakfast?” Patton asked. That question managed to make Virgil open his eyes again. “I was thinking we could go down to the kitchen to eat that way it’s nice and fresh and I can introduce you to Mama real quick.” He neglected to mention the fact that they really did not have a choice. Mr. Deknis had blabbed to Mama about Virgil, and worse, had apparently mentioned that Virgil was skinny. As soon as he’d gotten home yesterday, he’d been met with an already worked up Mama firmly insisting that she meet Virgil sometime today.

 He wasn’t going to tell Virgil that though, because he thought it might scare him away from both Mama and Mr. Deknis.

Virgil thought about the prospect of breakfast for a long moment. “Fine,” he agreed. “I’ll be awake.”

“Good,” Patton said. He reached up to bop him on the nose. Virgil narrowed his eyes and then bopped him back making Patton giggle. He sat up then, and Virgil let him. “Let’s get you something to wear and do your hair,” Patton suggested. Virgil nodded and reluctantly got out of bed, just as Logan returned to the room. “We’re going to go downstairs for breakfast,” Patton told Logan. “That way Virgil can meet my mom.” He gave Logan a significant look and Logan nodded once in understanding that this was not a choice.

 Logan and Virgil got dressed, and Patton did Virgil’s hair up nice, before Patton led them out of the royal wing. They went down the main staircase instead of the spiral staircase that went right to the kitchen, mostly because it would be very busy, and Patton thought they should probably eat in the main dining room anyway. He could feel Virgil getting more anxious as they entered the busier part of the castle, and he stuck close to either Patton or Logan from the time they hit the top of the steps all the way to the main dining room.

 There were a few people in the dining room already eating breakfast when they arrived. Virgil’s curiosity seemed to temporarily overwhelm his anxiety as he looked around the large hall and at all of the people there. Patton looked around trying to see it through his eyes. He’d been running around this place since he was little, so he never really thought about how big the room was or how grandly it was decorated, but Virgil was just seeing it for the first time. Patton smiled at him as he guided him to one of the seats. There was already muffins on the table so Patton grabbed one and plopped it in front of Virgil.

 Virgil frowned down at the muffin dubiously. “You just… keep food out in the open?” he asked.

Right.

“It’s fine, Virgil,” Patton promised. “No one here would have put anything in it.”

Virgil narrowed his eyes and looked around at the other occupants of the room suspiciously.

“Honestly,” Logan said. “No one even knew we would be down here for breakfast. Nobody would just put something in random people’s food for no reason.”

Virgil gave him a look like he’d just told him people could in fact breathe under water. Virgil was really from a… whole different world, wasn’t he?

 “It’s really fine,” Patton said. “Logan and I have eaten things on the table like this a lot.”

“I’m surprised your not dead yet,” Virgil said.

Logan rolled his eyes and reached for a muffin. Virgil slapped it out of his hand and onto the floor. “Really?” Logan asked.

Virgil narrowed his eyes at him. “No eating unsecured food!”

“Virgil,” Logan groaned.

“I bet you don’t even know what common poisons taste like.”

“No,” Logan said. “I don’t because I don’t worry about being poisoned on a daily basis!”

“You should!”

People were starting to look over at them. Patton shot an awkward smile at the woman a few chairs down.

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“Just don’t eat the muffins Logan,” Patton said under his breath.

“I do not understand why-”

“Because it’s stupid as he-”

“Shush,” Patton commanded out of the corner of his mouth, “people are watching, and Virgil is just a normal castle resident.”

That shut the both of them up at least.

“No muffins for now,” Patton said. “I assume it’s okay to eat the things they bring straight from the kitchen.”

Virgil looked a bit leery of this still, but he nodded.

“Good,” Patton said, “then we’ll just wait for that to get here and then everyone will be happy, right?”

Logan opened his mouth and Patton turned to glare at him.

“Right?”

 Logan closed his mouth, though clearly, he did not want to give in so easily. They’d be doubtlessly rehashing this conversation once they were alone again.

Patton caught sight of one of the kitchen workers he knew fairly well come out of the kitchen and deliver food to a group of people who were there before them. She caught sight of them and walked over likely to ask them what they wanted for breakfast. Patton watched out of the corner of his eye as Virgil tensed, eyeing her approach suspiciously and she slowed under his glare.

This was going to be a long breakfast.

  Chapter 27

After an, honestly quite aggravating, breakfast full of Virgil’s cognitive distortions about the likelihood of being poisoned, Logan was relieved to finally be able to leave the dining area. In consideration to those serving breakfast, Patton did not lead them through the door in the back of the dining room that went directly to the kitchen, and instead took them out of the room and down the hall to a different entrance. This one had a guard stationed across from it as, despite what Virgil may believe, the castle workers did consider the possibility that someone would want to sneak into the kitchen for nefarious purposes.

 Said guard, of course, saw nothing wrong with the prince and the head chef’s son entering the side door even with the bonus stranger. In fact, he may even have known Virgil could be coming through this door if Ms. Heart had mentioned him.

Though Virgil hadn’t managed to catch it, Logan knew enough about Patton’s mother that he’d surmised that she had insisted Patton bring the boy to meet her. It was bound to happen at some point anyway, Logan knew, and he wasn’t particularly worried. After all, this was Patton’s mother. Virgil himself didn’t even seem particularly concerned.

 Logan had seen him panic and, while he tugged a bit at the sweater he was wearing, the motion was not particularly fervent, so he was likely just slightly nervous.

Of course, that may be because he did not know Patton’s mother specifically wanted to meet him and just assumed that they were starting the necessary process of introducing him to castle residents with a low risk person.

When they entered the hallway, Logan could already hear the usual noises of the kitchen: the clattering of plates, the bubble of conversation, and the sound of Ms. Heart’s voice calling out instructions.

 He did see Virgil hesitate, but Logan couldn’t sus out why and Patton was already ahead of them and opening the door into the kitchen. It was fairly calm for the kitchen considering it was meal hours. Logan imagined that Patton had chosen the time between when the day guards ate breakfast before their shifts and the night guards after their shifts on purpose. There was still a bit of chaos as dishwashers attempted to catch up during the lull and a few orders were still being made, but overall the mood seemed, to Logan at least, to be light as Ms. Heart ordered her kitchen around.

 Yet, Virgil clearly did not see the situation the same way that Logan did. He froze when the kitchen door swung open and some of the workers turned to look at them. He took a step back, bumped into Logan, startled violently, realized it was Logan, and then side stepped to hide behind him. Logan looked back at him in confusion, but Virgil said nothing, proceeding to mutely peer over Logan’s shoulder.

Patton had moved over to greet his mother as she wiped her hands off on a rag. She glanced over at Virgil and Logan and Logan saw Virgil shrink back a bit.

 Logan could see Ms. Heart’s eyes soften as she tracked his movement. She turned to the woman next to her and said something before moving to remove her apron and hang it up in its designated area. Virgil’s hands clenched in the fabric of Logan’s shirt when she turned back to him.

“It’s fine, Virgil,” Logan told him, but Virgil didn’t seem to believe him. Luckily, Patton had turned back and seemed to realize something was amiss.

He stepped back over to them. “Hey, honey,” he said. A plate clattered in the kitchen and Virgil just about ripped Logan’s shirt.

 Patton frowned sympathetically. “Too loud?”

“Virgil,” Logan said. “You are digging your fingernails into my skin.” Patton shot Logan a glare. “What?”

“How about,” Patton’s mom suggested. Virgil’s fingernails dug more into Logan’s skin. “We go to my office.”

“I think that’s a good idea, Mama,” Patton said. “Come here, Virgil.” He reached over to touch one of Virgil’s hands and had to pull a bit to get him to release Logan. “It’s back that way, away from the kitchen,” he said when he managed to twine their fingers. He stepped around Logan, probably so there was still a buffer between Virgil and the kitchen and tugged him in the correct direction.

 Ms. Heart shot a glance at Logan and Logan felt irrationally like she was trying to read his thoughts. Logan smoothed his features out and turned to follow Patton and Virgil towards her office.

As head chef, Ms. Heart had a small office where she could plan menus without the hustle and bustle of the kitchen and have meeting with people who needed to discuss dietary needs and restrictions. It was very well organized, but still looked fairly messy because of the numbers of decorations she had in it. She had a tendency to keep everything that Patton made her, thus she had his childhood drawings on the wall and little projects stacked on her desk and on the shelves. A lumpy cat statue acted as a paperweight on a stack of papers on her desk and there was a vase of fake flowers (as it could not actually hold water) sat near the window.

 By the time Logan entered the room, Patton was trying to coax Virgil into sitting down on one of the two mismatched chairs, but Virgil was having none of it. He had turned to face the door and was yanking at his sweater in nervousness.

Logan noticed that Ms. Heart did not come far into the room, instead pausing near the door. She did, however close the door to give them privacy, and that seemed to distress Virgil more.

She seemed to contemplate him for a moment. “Hello,” she said, her voice softer than Logan was used to hearing. “You must be Virgil.”

 It seemed as though he were willing himself to magically shrink, but he still replied. “Yes, ma’am,” he said quietly.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said. “I’m Patton’s mom.”

“I know, ma’am.”

“There’s no need to be formal, Virgil.”

He hesitated. “Okay,” he said somehow quieter.

Her eyebrows drew together in concern, and it seemed that she decided to result to her default way of making people more comfortable. “Would you kids like some candy?”

Logan saw Patton’s hand squeeze Virgil’s lightly. “That would be great, Mama.”

She nodded and walked forward towards her desk. Virgil turned so his back was never to her. If she noticed, she didn’t react. She just grabbed a small tin off one of her shelves and took the top off. “How about a peppermint candy?” she asked.

 She offered the tin out to them. Virgil stared at it like it was a venomous snake. Logan decided to act, stepping forward and taking three of the pieces of peppermint candy from the dish. He stepped over to Virgil and Patton and held out his hand, offering Virgil first choice out of all three.

He hesitated before glancing between Patton and his mother. He must have decided that Patton’s mom wouldn’t risk poisoning Patton and took one of the pieces. Patton took another one of them and popped it into his mouth. Logan ate the last piece.

“Thanks,” Virgil said to Ms. Heart before placing his piece in his mouth.

 Logan watched Virgil’s eyes light up a bit when the flavor registered. His posture didn’t completely relax, but he seemed at least a bit less like he was contemplating jumping through the window. His trust was almost worryingly easy to buy sometimes. All it took was a not poisoned peppermint.

Ms. Heart seemed pleased by his reaction. “I’m actually going to be making some new ones soon and I’m trying to get rid of these. Would you like to take another one for later?” she asked, holding out the tin.

He looked at it warily again, but he still stepped closer slowly and took another piece. “Thank you.”

 “Anytime,” Ms. Heart said, eyes looking over him intensely. “You look like you could do to with a few more sweets every so often.”

Virgil tilted his head in that way he did when he was particularly perplexed.

Patton giggled a bit. “She means your skinny.”

“Oh,” Virgil said. “Logan already gave me a malnutrition potion for that.”

“Did he now?” she asked, her eyes flickering to Logan. Logan winced. He was definitely in trouble for not bringing him directly to her. He was sure he’d hear all about it as soon as she caught him without Virgil in the room.

 She turned back to Virgil with a smile, and Logan imagined Virgil had no idea how dead Logan was. “Well, that’s a very good start, but if there was need for a nutrition potion, we should be careful to make sure you get enough calories and nutrients every day going forward.” She sat down at her desk. “Why don’t you and I talk for a bit about making sure you get some good food.”

He still looked cautious but was predictably enticed by the promise of food. He did not sit still, but he did put his hands on the back of one of the chairs and slightly lean on it. “Yes, ma’am,” he agreed.

“Okay,” she said. “Well, I’m going to have a few more specific questions, but let’s just start with what are your favorite foods?”

“I’ll eat anything,” Virgil replied immediately.

“He really likes chicken alfredo,” Patton contributed.

Virgil perked up at the name of the food. “I did like that,” he agreed.

“Alright,” Ms. Heart replied. That’s a start.

  Chapter 28

Thomas did not have to be told that something had gotten Helen Heart in a tizzy. He could tell just by the amount of food she had sent up on his dinner tray. She always made and pushed more food when she was stressed, and he couldn’t help but chuckle when he found both a hearty serving of roast beef and a mini chicken pot pie on his plate along with three vegetable side dishes and a side of macaroni and cheese.

He could also guess what had happened to illicit such a response. Thomas had caught up to Jeffers Deknis in his garden and they’d spoken at length about Logan and Patton’s new friend.

There was no way that after said discussion, Jeff had not mentioned Virgil (and more importantly his friendship with Patton) to Helen during their daily gossip sessions. There was also no way that Helen had heard the words “child” and “too small” in a sentence and hadn’t flipped. From there the inevitable sequence of events was clear: Patton went home, Helen talked his ear off until he agreed to bring Virgil to meet her, Helen met him and immediately committed herself to making sure he ate three square meals a day as well as multiple snacks.

Thomas had sussed all of that out before the kitchen worker bringing him his dinner had mentioned what had happened that day.

 That in mind, he decided to wait until after dinner should have been cleaned up before walking his own dinner leftovers down to the kitchens.

Thomas was unsurprised to see Jeff already in the kitchen. He was sat at a small table off to the side where kitchen workers usually took their breaks. The only person other than Jeff and Helen left in the kitchen was a dishwasher who was finishing up. Helen usually spent a couple of hours after dinner in her kitchen or her office organizing for the next day and in case anyone needed food on an off hour, and then there was a night cook who would take over so she could go back to her set of rooms.

 Helen took the tray of leftovers from Thomas herself and shooed the dishwasher out of the way. “I’ll handle the rest myself,” she told the girl. “You can leave.”

She nodded and started to take her apron off. Helen dumped the tray on the counter without care and turned back around to usher Thomas into one of the kitchen chairs. Thomas went willingly and she turned to fill the tea kettle with water and set it on the stove.

“It take it she met Virgil,” Thomas said to Jeff.

“She’s adopted Virgil,” Jeff replied, taking a bite out of a cookie.

 “And what of it?” she asked. “Someone obviously needs to feed the boy. Speaking of, you’re grounding your son by the way.”

Thomas took one of the cookies for himself. “Why am I grounding Logan?” he asked.

“He was worried enough about his health to make him a nutrition potion, but still did not bring him to me,” she harrumphed.

“I see,” Thomas replied.

“In Logan’s defense,” Jeff interrupted. “the boy seems rather timid. He may have worried about you scaring him off.”

Helen slapped him with a dishtowel.

“Actually,” Jeff continued. “From what I’ve gathered he didn’t have contact with anyone since the time I saw him a couple of weeks ago until now.”

 “Any adults,” Thomas corrected with a frown. “I’m pretty sure he, Patton, and Logan must have been around each other considering how close they already seem to be.” He paused, “Logan implied he wasn’t particularly… comfortable around adults.”

“I did get that impression, yes,” Helen said, pouring the hot water from the kettle into a tea pot and carrying it and some cups over to the table.

“He was incredibly jumpy,” Jeff confirmed. “I imagine he does not have good experiences with many people, but he seems to have grown attached to Logan and Patton. He defers to them in most things and seemed a bit protective.

 “Where did he come from?” Thomas asked.

“I’m not sure,” Jeff said. “I found him hiding in the garden shed a couple of weeks ago.”

“Did he sneak in?” Thomas asked.

“That’s what I would have thought,” Jeff replied, “but when I asked, he said he wasn’t trying to steal anything and that he was supposed to be in the castle. So, I’d assumed that meant he was the child of someone living in the caste.”

“But neither of us could find anyone who knew him,” Helen said. “Of course, we didn’t even know his name until now.” She seemed to decide the tea leaves had sat long enough because she started to pour them each a cup of tea.

Thomas took a sip. “Earl Grey,” he commented. “I guess I’m not sleeping much tonight.” It was her ‘planning tea.’

 “We need a plan,” she said, “but we’re going to have to be gentle.”

“At least with Virgil,” Jeff said.

Thomas laughed lightly, “and what do you plan to do with the other two?”

“I have my ways.”

Helen rolled her eyes. “You say that,” she said, “but you’re too soft. The two of them learned to run circles around you and your powers years ago.”

“We should talk to them though,” Thomas said. “Separately from Virgil.”

“We should,” Helen agreed. “I already spoke to Patton a bit yesterday, but I will again. We should see if we can ask around and find out why he’s in the castle. We don’t even know how long he’s lived here. Or who brought him here.” The look on her face told Thomas she wanted to have a talk with his guardians whoever and wherever they were.

 Helen took a drink of tea, it seemed to calm herself. “We need to make sure whatever has been happening to him is not happening in these walls,” she said.

Thomas had honestly… not thought about that. He’d assumed whatever made Virgil so skittish was in the past, but it was possible that it was ongoing. The thought made him sick.

“Perhaps you should try to talk to him, Thomas,” Helen suggested.

Thomas winced. “I am not sure that is a good idea...”

“Why not?”

“We don’t have the best track record… I don’t think me being around him would be a good idea.”

 “Oh, please, Thomas,” Helen said disbelievingly.

“No, you don’t understand,” Thomas said. “He seems disproportionately afraid of me. I think it’s a mix of me being king and how we met.”

“How did you meet?” Helen asked.

“I… gave him a bit of a fright,” Thomas admitted. “Logan and Patton weren’t in the room and I didn’t know who he was. He… ended up under the bed. Then… the second time I saw him he accidently ran into me. He freaked out again.” The memory still made Thomas feel gross. It also made him think there was a lot more to his backstory than the three of them understood.

43410

“Perhaps Jeff can try to talk to him then,” Helen said. “It sounds like he was calmest around you. I’ll push Patton towards taking him to the garden more often. I bet fresh air would do him some good anyway.”

Jeff nodded. “I will try to talk to him a bit more.”

“Great,” Helen said, but Thomas already knew the conversation wasn’t over. “Now we need to talk about strategic events to throw over the next few months that Patton and Logan to invite Virgil to. We’ll start slow, but we need to make sure he feels welcome in the castle.”

Thomas met Jeff’s eyes. Yeah, it was going to be a long night.

  Chapter 29

Virgil finished eating the breakfast Patton’s mom had sent for him. It had been going on a week since she’d made the menu for him. She sent up little cards with each meal and he was supposed to rate each thing she sent on a scale from 1-5. Logan would read it to him before he ate, and Virgil mark the little box on the card. Usually, he would put a 4 for everything (he had tried to do 5, but Logan had told him 5 was reserved for things like chicken alfredo). Three was for things that he was neutral on, 2 was for things he didn’t like but could tolerate, and 1 was for things he didn’t like. So far, the only 3 was the unseasoned porridge she’d sent one day.

 “Finished?” Logan asked.

“Yeah,” Virgil said.

“What would you like to do today?” Logan asked. “Patton is busy until after lunch, and then we thought you might like to go back to the garden again. It’s supposed to drop in temperature over the next few days, so it will be the last good day for it.”

“Sounds good,” Virgil said. “I don’t care what we do today though.”

“Well, there are a few options,” Logan said.

“What do you want to do?” Virgil asked.

Logan made an expression, and Virgil titled his head. “I’m don’t have anything in particular I want to do,” he said.

“You’re lying,” Virgil said immediately.

 “You would not be interested in the activity I wish to partake in,” Logan said.

Virgil squinted at him. “I’d be interested in laying on the ground and staring at the ceiling.”

Logan chuckled. “No, truly. The activity I would do if you were not present would involve reading.”

“You can read to me,” Virgil suggested.

“…In Sanskrit.”

Virgil frowned at him. “Isn’t that, like, some sort of dead language?”

“It is,” Logan said. “I taught myself to read it to read a specific book called the Pragilium Text. It’s an encoded book that leads to a magical location that I have been trying to decode for years.”

 “That’s fine,” Virgil said. “You can do that.”

“It would be in the library,” Logan said.

“Okay.”

“But…” Logan said. “It would in no way be interesting to you.”

Virgil shrugged. “Like I said. I’m content to lie on the floor for a few hours.”

Logan frowned. “I can’t make you do that.”

“You wouldn’t be making me,” Virgil said. “I want to go. Maybe you can find me an easy book I could try to read?”

“Are you certain?” he asked.

Virgil nodded, decisively.

“Very well, get dressed and I will show you the library.”

Virgil stood to do so and a few minutes later, Logan was leading him out of the royal wing.

 Both of the guards greeted him kindly, and Virgil hunched his shoulders in a bit, but said a soft “hi.”

The library didn’t end up being too far away. It was through the small dining hall and to the left where the staircase to the kitchen was to the right.

“This is not the main library,” Logan said. “It is just a smaller one. The royal librarian comes here only about once a week to organize. Some other castle residents might come in too, but it is usually mostly empty.” Virgil could tell just by listening for a few seconds that the place was likely empty (unless someone was lying in wait).

 “I’ll look and see if there is something simple for you in case you’d like to read. You can explore a bit if you’d like,” Logan said.

Virgil nodded and stalked off into the shelves to secure the area. There were many books, not that he could quite read any of the spines. The bookcases were mostly cramped into the space. There was the open area where they’d come in with a few comfy chairs and Virgil found a desk near one of the windows. It had stacks of books including one pretty large and old one. He looked at it curiously.

 Virgil heard Logan’s footsteps approach from down an aisle. “That’s the Pragilium text,” he said.

“It’s pretty,” Virgil said, looking at the design etched into the cover.

“Yes,” Logan agreed. He reached forward to touch it and opened it carefully. The print was small and didn’t look like the letters Logan had taught him so far. There was a small map on the side that Virgil could at least guess at the meaning of.

“You can read that?” Virgil asked.

“I can,” Logan said. “Very few people can though.”

“Wow, you’re really smart.”

“Thank you,” Logan said with a smile.

 “Now,” Logan continued. “I found you a book. I apologize as its subject matter is for younger children, but it has many pictures that can help give you context when you don’t know something. You don’t have to read it if you do not wish to, especially as we haven’t gotten very far in our lessons, but I thought you might like the challenge.

He handed him the book and Virgil took it with a smile. “I’ll try to read it,” he said.

“Well, you have free reign of the library. Feel free to continue to explore and to interrupt me if you need to.”

 Virgil nodded and took the book before deciding to finish his sweep of the library. It turned out that appearances were not deceiving, and the library truly was empty. Once he was certain about that, he looked around for a comfortable place to settle down and try to read the book Logan had handed him. He found a sturdy looking bookshelf near where Logan was reading at his desk. He scaled it quickly. It was a little bit dusty at the top, but it wasn’t a bad place. It was close to the ceiling and kept him hidden pretty well, but still gave him enough room to pop up onto his elbows. If he looked left, he could see Logan down bellow with his head in the book, but if he looked right, he could see the entrance to the library.

 He pulled the book in front of him and looked at the cover. It was covered in drawings of different colored flowers. One simple white flower was in the center and there were three words on the cover. He squinted at it and silently tried to sound it out based on what Logan had taught him so far. He could guess that the larger word was ‘flowers’ based on context. So, he was pretty sure it read How Flowers Grow.

He flipped open the book. Logan was right, there were many hand drawn beautiful pictures. He could pretty much understand what was happening just from them even if he couldn’t read all of the words.

 It was an interesting book even if he couldn’t read it and it was obviously made for small children. Judging by the pictures it seemed to be detailing how plants, or at least, flowers grew through some kid planting and caring for a flower over the course of some amount of time.

Virgil had, of course, known flowers grew from seeds, but it was interesting to see things about how the stem would pop out of the seed in the ground and things about the roots growing.

He more looked through the pictures than read it the first time but had flipped back to the front to try to read the words when he heard the library door open.

 Virgil perked up in awareness, but then settled when he recognized Patton’s footsteps. Virgil tilted his head to watch as he walk directly to Logan’s hideaway.

“Hi,” he said, gaining Logan’s attention.

“Hello, Patton,” Logan replied. He glanced at the window and must have seen that time had passed because he closed his book and shuffled his papers.

“The guards said you came here,” Patton said, glancing around. “Where’s Virgil?”

Instead of letting Logan answer that question, Virgil pulled himself forward, with the book in one hand and slid off the bookshelf to land lightly on his feet next to Patton.

Patton screamed before slapping a hand over his mouth.

 Logan had placed his hand over his heart. “Where on Earth did you come from?” he asked.

Virgil blinked at him and then pointed to the bookshelf he’d been on top of.

“How long were you up there?” Logan asked.

“Pretty much the whole time,” Virgil answered.

“I…” Logan said. “I didn’t even know.”

Virgil squinted at him. “You need to learn to look up.”

Patton giggled.

Virgil turned on him. “You need to learn to case the area.”

“Oh honey, your shirt is all covered in dust,” Patton said instead of responding to his very valid criticism. Virgil frowned. “Let’s get you changed and then go grab some lunch.”

“Lunch?” Virgil asked.

Patton chuckled and grabbed his hand. “Yes, sweetie, lunch. Then garden.”

“Fine,” Virgil said. “But you do need to learn to be more observant.

“Yes, yes, whatever you say,” Patton said.

Logan just rolled his eyes.

  Chapter 30

After lunch, Patton and Logan took Virgil out into the garden to walk around. They let Virgil lead them around wherever he wanted to in the garden. A bunch more flowers had died since the last time they’d been out here, and Patton felt sad despite having never felt very sad about that sort of thing before. But, Virgil seemed to really like the flower he’d found last time, so Patton thought he was probably sad on the boy’s behalf.

Of course, Patton thought, perking up, eventually it would be spring, and Virgil could get to not only see flowers but see all of the flowers grow. Patton couldn’t wait to see him amongst the garden then.

 Virgil took them wandering through the orchard for a while, but most of the trees had been stripped of their fruits. They ended up in the food garden after a bit, and Virgil finally seemed to decide on the direction instead of just ambling about.

A few seconds after Patton noticed Virgil seemingly decide on a destination, Patton noticed Mr. Deknis kneeling on the ground a few feet away. Had… had Virgil been looking for him? Patton wondered. That was adorable.

Mr. Deknis looked up as they approached and smiled at them.

“Hello, Mr. Deknis,” Patton said as they came closer.

 “Hello you three,” Mr. Deknis said. “Getting into trouble?”

“No,” Virgil said, shaking his head.

Mr. Deknis gave him a flash of a smile. “I know, I’m joking,” he said. “Especially since there isn’t much left in my gardens for certain princes to destroy with experiments.”

“Oh, okay,” Virgil said. He tilted his head. “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting the last of the acorn squash out,” Mr. Deknis replied. “It’s the last crop to get finished. Good thing too, it’s supposed to start snowing soon.”

Virgil looked down curiously at the dark green squash.

“Would you like to help me pick a couple?” Mr. Deknis asked.

 “Sure,” Virgil said, sounding interested. Mr. Deknis patted the ground beside him and Virgil knelt down to watch him.

“They’re not too difficult to harvest,” he said. “You just cut the fruit off the stem. You want to leave about a hand’s width of the stem left over which will help preserve moisture. The earlier harvests, I left in the field to cure in the sun for a couple weeks, but the frost’ll ruin them so we’ll take them inside the green house and let them sit in the sun for a bit there. We also want to keep the leaves. You’ll probably be eating those for dinner tonight since they have to be cooked up within about 24 hours after they’re picked. Patton’s mom makes a good side dish with them and she’ll be making some curry tomorrow, probably. Maybe some stew if there are some leftover.”

 “Put the squash in this wheelbarrow and the leaves into this pile, okay?” Virgil nodded and Mr. Deknis handed him the extra pair of gloves and shears he carried with him in case one set broke. “These might be a bit big on your, but they should work for now.”

Mr. Deknis looked up at Patton and Logan. “Would the two of you like to help?” he asked. “I can get some more equipment.”

“I can help out if you want, but you don’t need to stop and get more equipment just for me,” Patton said.

“The same for me,” Logan said.

“Well, if you’d like to help still, you can sort the leave. Give your mother a head start.”

 “Sure,” Patton said. He and Logan went to do that while Mr. Deknis and Virgil worked on cutting the squashes from the vine.

“What do you do during the winter?” Virgil asked curiously. “If this is your last crop.”

“Well, at the beginning, I mostly will be working on making sure things are stored correctly along with some of the kitchen staff. There’s some drying to do and some canning. After that’s done, I’ll spend some time organizing and planning. Then, before the spring comes, I’ll start preparing seedlings in the green house.”

“Seedlings?” he asked.

“I let seeds start to grow in the greenhouse that I replant once it gets warm enough.”

 “Why don’t you just plant them where they’re going?”

“I do for some,” he said, “but giving some a head start is good for them.”

Patton watched as Virgil continued to ask questions about gardening while working on harvesting the squash. Mr. Deknis continued to answer them in a calm, soft tone that Patton didn’t think he’d ever heard from the often gruff man before.

Patton wasn’t surprised when, after finishing getting most of the squash off of the vine, Mr. Deknis asked if Virgil wanted to help him with canning some pears in a couple of days. Virgil immediately looked over at Logan and Patton as though asking permission.

“Say yes if you want to Virgil,” Logan said.

 “Yes,” Virgil said as soon as he was given permission. Mr. Deknis smiled at him softly and started loading the last of the squash into the wheelbarrow. Patton offered to run the squash leaves to the kitchen while Logan and Virgil helped Mr. Deknis take the actual squash to the green house.

He dropped the leaves off to a kitchen worker since Mama was busy and headed back out to the garden. By the time he returned, Logan was already back from the green house and sitting by one of the more decorative trees near the castle.

“He’s exploring,” Logan said, nodding at the large patch of bushes.

 Patton chuckled. “I see.” He sat next to Logan. Every so often he’d hear the bushes rustle, but he couldn’t tell if it was actually Virgil or an animal.

“He’s adorable,” Patton commented, keeping an ear out.

Logan hummed.

“I’m glad we kept him.”

“He isn’t a pet, Patton.”

Patton rolled his eyes. “I know, but I’m still glad. I’m glad he’s making friends with Mr. Deknis. Once he knows how to read better, we should get him a book about gardening. He seems interested.”

Logan nodded. “Having a hobby would be good for him. Clearly he has a fascination with the garden.” He nodded to the blur of dark hair that could be seen through the bushes. It seemed Virgil had stopped his exploration and was now laying down in the bushes a few feet away.

 “I’m going to go see what he’s doing,” Patton said. “I’ll be right back.”

Logan nodded and Patton got to his feet. The bushes were part of a small maze that was filled with flowers during the spring and summer months but were mostly just green and brown bushes for now. Despite the fact that Patton had been able to see him only a few feet away, it took him a while to wind through the path to where he was. When he finally turned the last corner and he came into view, Patton gasped softly.

“Ghost kitty!” he said, making sure to make his voice as quiet as possible.

 Despite how soft he made his voice, two pairs of eyes shot over to him. The completely black kitten was perched on Virgil’s lap like she belonged there. Ghost Kitty hissed slightly, but Virgil reached forward to pet her head gently.

“This is Ghost Kitty?” Virgil asked. “I thought you said she was hard to pet.”

“She is,” Patton said. He lowered himself onto the ground from a few feet away from them. “How did you get her to come to you?”

Virgil glanced down at the cat and shrugged, scratching one of her ears. “She just came over to me and let me pet her.”

 “Wow,” Patton said softly. He looked at the cat. “Could I pet you sweetie?” he asked, holding out a hand in her direction. She hissed again.

Virgil frowned down at her. “It’s Patton,” he said as though he expected to understand his words and the exasperation in the tone he said them in.

He pet the cat’s head to soothe her and then reached over to grab Patton’s hand. He pulled and Patton carefully leaned a bit closer until his hand was within sniffing distance. Ghost Kitty sniffed his fingers contemplatively and then bumped her head against it. He barely restrained a squeal, knowing that probably wouldn’t be taken well.

 He carefully turned his hand over so he could stroke the top of her head. He gently scratched her ear, not daring to go for under her chin yet since she didn’t know him well. “Hi,” he said softly. After a moment, she started to purr softly. Virgil reached over and scratched under her chin and she purred louder. “Oh, you’re a good girl,” Patton breathed, letting a hand trail gently down her back once and then again. Patton settled himself carefully into a seating position continuing to pet her. After a few more moments of soft petting, she hesitantly stepped her front paws onto Patton’s thigh so she was sitting in both of their laps. Patton laughed softly. “Hi sweetie.” He glanced over at Virgil who had a wide smile on his face as he pet the cat. This. This was adorable. They continued to pet the cat for a very long time.

#proofread stories #not writing

[piracytheorist]

A Kiss for Good Luck (8/15)

Summary: So this is the story of one born lucky, and one born unlucky. Fate will keep making them cross paths, but is it to bring them together, or to test them? Captain Swan AU.

A/N: This will hurt. I am sorry.

Rating: T (make sure you’re okay with the warnings on AO3) Warnings: This chapter contains character death, some depictions of violence, depictions of poor and unhealthy coping mechanisms, as well as a toxic relationship. Any intercourse and physical touch in general is fully consensual, but emotionally the relationship may appear upsetting to some. Also there are some elements that may resemble emotional self-harm.

Word count for this chapter: 4k (48k in total) AO3

Read from the beginning: Tumblr | AO3

~

Chapter 8: Killian Jones, October 19th 2011 – October 24th 2015

The kiss is deeper than he expected. Killian pushes the woman back, but gently. He was the one who gave her permission to kiss him, after all.

"I thought it would be a quick kiss. I have a girlfriend."

Her brows are going wild. "Shit. Sorry."

He's so stupid. What would Milah think? "'Salright. Go pee."

"Yes. That,” she slurs. “Thank you again."

Just as the woman closes the bathroom door behind her, Milah appears above him.

“You okay?” she says.

He looks at her confused, before he realizes it's not that normal to sit on the floor while at a club. “Yeah,” he says. “Just very, very drunk.”

She gives him her hand, he takes it, then she starts pulling at him. “Let's go outside for some air. There's too much smoke in here.”

“I wanna pee!”

She drags him up. “You can pee outside! Let's go!”

It feels better outside. The cool, clean air wakes him up a bit.

Milah throws her arms around Killian's neck and pulls him to lean his forehead on hers. He smells the martini in her breath, landing hot against his lips.

He closes his eyes. He could stay like this forever, and how he wishes this moment lasted that long...

“How sweet,” a sharp voice says from the side.

They turn together to see Gold staring at them, his hands crossed on the handle of his cane. There's two big guys flanking him, and Killian pulls Milah aside, stepping in front of her.

“What do you want?” Killian says.

“I did wait,” Gold says. “I held back, let you take my wife away from me.”

“Shut up,” Milah says, moving to Killian's side. “Our marriage was over long before I met Killian.”

Gold looks at her, hand grabbing the cane hard.

“You... you followed us here?” Milah says, suddenly realizing. “What the hell? Where's Jack?”

“You have no right to ask about him,” Gold says and takes a brisk step forward. “You went against my conditions for meeting him. You brought that bastard with you!”

Milah flinches, and Killian's left hand grabs onto hers.

“And you?” Gold looks at him. “Going behind my back to take my son on your side? Trying to buy his love?” His face seems to barely contain his rage as he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a handgun.

Killian's hand squeezes Milah's as his other one raises up in defense. “Whoa, Gold, wait-”

Gold shoots.

Though Killian’s ears are ringing from the exploding sound, he hears Milah's trembling sigh. It feels like it's hours later that he turns to look at her, eyes going straight for the growing red spot on her chest.

And then she's falling.

“No,” he whispers and holds her, gently breaking her fall.

Her eyes are moving wildly, then she coughs and a thin trail of blood runs from the corner of her lips.

“No, no. Milah...”

She focuses on him. “I love you,” she whispers. She gasps one last time, then she's limp in his arms.

It's like even more hours pass. He feels her hot blood staining his hands.

Her eyes are closed. She's not breathing. Only her blood moves, dripping out of her body even though her heart has stopped beating.

“No,” he says.

He hears the tapping sound of a cane, and he looks up to see Gold standing above him, gun aimed at him. His henchmen also aim their handguns at him.

“What are you waiting for?” Killian says. “Finish it.”

What else can he say? It's not as if he'd leave him to tell the tale.

“Oh, no. You won't be so lucky,” Gold says, but he doesn't move.

Killian manages to hold himself back only long enough to set Milah down gently, then he lunges at Gold, grabbing the gun.

It all happens in half a second.

Gold shoots, Killian's ears are ringing again, and he sees two fingers fly off in a sudden fountain of blood.

He drops down to his knees. His left hand hangs limp in a way no hand should. The thumb and index finger are missing, and there's a gaping crescent hole, starting under his middle finger and reaching to the middle of his wrist.

The pain hits him suddenly and a scream erupts from his throat.

His vision comes and goes; one moment Gold is standing above him, the next Killian is leaning over Milah, the blood spilling from his hand onto her unmoving body.

There's more people screaming; people shouting; sirens, blue and red lights...

Then white. So much white.

Killian is just three days younger of twenty-eight when he once again thinks how he's cursed.

Milah is dead, there is no doubt about that. His hand was amputated, and he has to spend a whole week in the hospital before the doctors clear him for a transatlantic flight.

In the meantime he learns that Milah's body was sent back to England, per Gold's request.

At first, he finds it impossible; but the cops who'd questioned him about the assault soon inform him that Gold has solid alibi in London at the time of the murder.

Killian almost shuts down in the week he has to spend in there; Gold must have stolen Killian's phone before fleeing the scene of the crime, and Killian has no way of contacting Nemo, and he didn't let him know the specifics of his trip in the first place, like when exactly his return trip would’ve been.

If Nemo had known, he would have worried after not getting any news from Killian the day he was supposed to return. He would have contacted hospitals, would have found out about the assault. Probably would even honor Killian's request to attend Milah's funeral in his place, if Killian had the guts to actually ask him for that.

And to top it all, Nemo's phone at home is out of order. Why didn't he ever bother memorizing his cell phone? Now all Killian can do is lie in his hospital bed and do his damnedest to avoid looking at where his left hand is no more.

The blasted week goes by; Killian spends the rest of his savings into a new return trip, the only one he can afford has two stops in between.

He's dead tired, hungry, with fresh dog crap under his sole, and somehow he's not surprised to see his apartment has flooded.

It's three in the morning and he contemplates walking through the ankle-deep water anyway and collapsing in his bed.

He stands so long in front of the open door of his apartment that eventually the downstairs neighbor comes to complain about water dripping into his place.

One call to the fire department later, Killian picks up his two bags – he didn't have the heart to throw Milah's stuff away – and takes a taxi to Nemo's place.

Nemo obviously got out of bed to let Killian in, and of course, he asks Killian what happened.

It's like he's seventeen again, unable to react to one of the most life-changing news he ever received, only the opposite, in the most grim way that he never dared imagine.

He's hiding his handless arm inside his jacket pocket and silently walks the stairs up to his old bedroom. He doesn't answer Nemo's questions next morning, he doesn't even sit down to get breakfast. He goes straight to the lawyer Milah had during her divorce.

Gold is paying people to give false testimony, and Killian is gonna take him down.

Too consumed in his own hatred for the man, the whole week he spent planning his comeback he didn't think of the problems the lawyer is listing now; Killian was drunk – as evidenced by hospital records – enough for his testimony to be considered debatable; he also has motive to want to get back at Gold, stronger than Gold's motive to kill his unfaithful wife three whole years post their divorce which concluded in his favour; and of course, one has to prove first that Gold's witnesses are lying before questioning Gold's alibi of more than five thousand kilometers away from the scene of the crime.

Killian doesn't return to Nemo's place. His own apartment stinks, damp and moldy, half of his furniture and appliances were ruined, but at least his bed is functioning, and he can't deal with Nemo's sympathy right now.

He needs to take Gold down. He can't have any more distractions.

It takes him a month to remember his therapist. He checks his emails for the first time since the assault, and he feels he loses another part of him at the news of his therapist moving towns to study for a doctorate; she's suggested other therapists at him, followed by two more emails of asking if everything is okay, then nothing.

Killian looks at the names and phones of the suggested therapists as if they're threats to his consciousness. He actually laughs. Dr. Eriksen had him since before he was even an adult and she knew everything about his fucked-up adolescence. Where would he even begin with someone new?

He deletes the email.

For two years, his whole life centers around finding weak spots in Gold's armour. He quits from Shakespeare's boat rental and works at stock in the harbor. It's a tough, time-consuming job, but it keeps him in view of the sea and gets his mind off his pain. Alcohol takes over that job in his time off.

He stops drawing; Milah used to draw with him and it nearly breaks him to pick up a pencil to sketch. The last thing he sketches is the design for the tattoo with her name on it that is soon permanently inked on his arm.

Two years of trying, as much as his exhausted psyche and a mind always leaning towards booze can handle, and the best he manages is to break into Gold's house, hack through his computer and locate some suspicious activity between Gold's bank account and the one of one of his witnesses.

Thirteen years of no spots in his criminal record mean nothing to the law when there are spots in it in the first place, and he's arrested for breaking and entering.

Nemo responds to Killian's call to bail him out, even though Killian has barely spoken to him in two years. However, the disappointment is, for the first time since Killian met him, visible on his face.

“It's your decision,” Nemo tells him after Killian is out. “Your path to choose, and your life to ruin.”

If it were anyone else, Killian would be flipping him off. But Nemo is the one who took Killian in as an assortment of broken pieces and put him back together, loving and patient all throughout. The one who has always been too good to be called a mere father.

“It's not just wanting to get back at that bastard,” Killian says, nearly shouting. At Nemo's small flinch, Killian breathes in and out. Among all his losses, it's the first one that has filled him with such rage. “That monster killed her in cold blood. And he's out there now, not paying for his crime-”

His voice is too unsteady now to accommodate shouting.

“It's not just personal. He killed her-” A soft sob breaks his sentence in half. “-and he's walking free.”

“The world is not fair,” Nemo says in a very soft voice, hand resting on Killian's shoulder. “Come home, son. This isn't what you need right now.”

“No. I need to see him behind bars.”

“You need to grieve.”

Killian scoffs, laughing mirthlessly. “It's been two years.”

“Exactly.”

He drops his gaze. If he looks at Nemo's face right now, he may crumble, and his efforts of two years – albeit not very successful – will be rendered pointless. The time he lost, the damage he's done to himself, to his relationships with everyone, Nemo, Shakespeare, Will and Tink, it will all be for nothing.

And worst of all, he'll be yet another one who will do Milah wrong. If he gives up, he'll be doing to her nothing better than what Gold did, and the very thought sickens him.

There's only one thing he changes. His drinking has reached new levels, and he needs, if nothing else, to survive in order to bring Gold down. So for now, AA meetings are something.

At first, he only talks about how he manages to stay clean, how he slips and how he tries to not beat himself up over it. His fifth meeting is on a particularly bad day; the story of watching the love of his life die slips from him, and across the circle he gets looks of pity that he hates.

If only he told everyone about the furious thoughts for revenge on Milah's murderer that have been plaguing his every waking thought for the past two years.

He slumps in his seat and stays silent for the rest of the meeting. He shouldn't have come today, he should have known he would be too emotional to think rationally before speaking.

The meeting ends and he's already made up his mind to look into other AA groups before he even exits the building.

“Excuse me,” a voice calls at him.

He turns. It's Eloise Gardener, one of the attendees.

“On the last meeting you mentioned that mental activities keep your thoughts away,” she says.

“Yeah?”

“I'm hosting gardening classes, two evenings a week at the Bare Feet Greenhouse. I thought I could invite you to join, they're already quite cheap and I'll give you a discount.”

“Your name is Gardener, innit?”

She smiles. “And I am a gardener. Shocking, I know. But I've found it's a good distraction, especially knowing you're taking care of a life. You get the satisfaction without committing to... raising a child, let's say.”

Killian decides it's worth a try; unlike the AA meetings, raising a plant actually has visible proof of progress.

He stops coming to the meetings, but Eloise doesn't ask him why. She teaches him and guides him through providing a good environment for his plants.

One night after class, she helps him move the pots with his grown plants to his apartment. He doesn't truly invite her in, and when she initiates a kiss with him, he takes a few seconds of thinking before he realizes he doesn't mind that much.

It's just fuck, and Eloise doesn't seem to be thinking it's anything deeper than he does.

If he thinks it's any deeper, he'll just be haunted again by that miserable thought, that the last person he kissed before Milah died was not Milah herself, but a random stranger whose face he wasn't even sober enough to remember.

Eloise leaves and within minutes, he's left as well to search for any open store that sells booze. Rain is pouring down, cars splash him until he's soaking wet, but he finally gives up when he trips and falls, his leg hurting too much to take him too much further.

Even the couple of hours he stays in the hospital while they put a walking cast on him feel unbearable. Two years have gone by and the memories of hospital misery are still too raw.

Eloise doesn't comment on the cast nor his continued absence from the AA meetings. She invites him to her place and after they have sex he asks if he can stay the night. That way it's much easier to avoid looking for a drink to deal with how disgusted he feels.

Even the other people attending the gardening lessons wouldn't imagine Eloise and Killian are sleeping together – and Killian is attending two different classes side by side. Not that there's anything to show for it. They just fuck, sleep in the same bed, and that's all. She keeps him from running out for a drink in the middle of the night, better than any AA meeting managed, he gives her a person to have control over the way she wants, and they scratch each other's itches.

Nemo keeps trying to stay in touch with him, and Killian nearly blocks his number out of pure shame. Perhaps if Nemo realizes he's been blocked he'll stop bothering.

Killian has practically moved in with Eloise now, or she with him; in any case, they'll sleep in the same bed every night, whether it's the one in Killian's apartment or the one in Eloise's house.

He cannot connect who he was before with who he is with Eloise now. Before Nemo even adopted him officially, Killian had allowed him to pick up his pieces and make him a functional human. With Milah, it was Killian who was the whole, the rock she could lean on.

With Eloise, he can once again be broken, but without any expectation to get fixed back up – and he's too tired for unrealistic expectations. He can stay the mess that he is, sharing his body and his space with her so that he can feel something, even when the feeling isn't the best. Eloise is controlling and demanding, and Killian's feelings for her range from fear to disgust, but he prefers those over pain, grief, rage, and a continuously burning thirst.

It's easier to hate his... “partner” than to hate everything else in his life, including himself.

He's actually shocked to realize two years have passed since his first time with Eloise, and nothing at all has changed. Their feelings didn't change towards one way or another; they just kept fucking, sleeping next to each other, and going by their day without thinking about each other.

He almost hates it when she asks him to ride with her to a concert in Maidstone. Not only because she's making ensuring no-one assaults her sound like a chore, but also because he's still not ready to enjoy music he used to love. Especially not in her presence. Being in her company is not a circumstance that fits happy thoughts.

There's a lot of things he's been denying himself since Milah died. Everything that used to make him happy, even the company of his family, feels sullied now.

He doesn't expect to enjoy the concert. But Eloise buys his ticket and drives the car, so he decides that he can tolerate one night of being a boy toy to discourage sleazebags.

It doesn't even feel that special that his birthday is tomorrow; he lost Liam a few days after his fifteenth birthday, and Milah a few days before his twenty-eighth. Maybe it's just not in the cards for him to celebrate it again.

For three whole hours, he forgets everything. There's just the music, and the lights, and his throat getting sore from singing without a care.

There is, of course, the occasional groping, people stepping on his feet, even getting an elbow to the ribs, but for him it's all par of the course now. Including checking his pockets afterwards and realizing that twenty pounds are missing. And Eloise being... well, Eloise.

“You were supposed to stand by my side,” she starts complaining after the concert is over and people start dispersing.

“I can assure you I was touched against my consent far more than you were.”

“Is that supposed to be an excuse?”

Ugh, her arrogant, calm face she makes when she tells him off. He hates it.

“If you wanted an actual bodyguard, you should have hired one. I only have one hand,” he bites back at her.

“Really? I get you a birthday gift and you consider this an appropriate response.” There’s no question mark in her tone.

“Oh, piss off. As if you've given a fuck about my birthday all these years.”

Her lips purse together, but her voice keeps that cool tenor that irritates him to no end. “I wanted to make it a good one for you. Just because you don't care about it doesn't mean no-one else does.”

He sighs. He actually had a good time and he doesn't want it ruined by her gaslighting. He's experienced people actually caring for his birthday, and he knows Eloise's words are just words. Next, she'll say that she contacted Scorpions themselves and asked them to have a concert the day before his birthday.

She shakes her head and goes for the portable toilets. At last, he can have some time on his own. He turns his head away and back to the scene, now completely empty.

No One Like You wasn't exactly the song he liked the most tonight, but it's the one he can't stop humming. He's humming!

Maybe he does owe Eloise a bit. Just a bit.

"Catchy tune, huh?" he hears from the side.

He turns, seeing a woman with a wide smile on her face.

"Oh, which one isn't?" he says, smiling back. "What a night."

The woman nods. "Did you have fun?"

The words pour out of him like vomit. "A lot of people stepped on me, I got groped, pick-pocketed, and I got in a fight with my...” – How should he call her? – “friend, but you know what?" He shrugs. "Bloody worth it."

"Oh.” Her face softens. “Sorry that you were mugged."

"Ah, it was like, twenty quid. I've known better than to carry credit cards where hands can easily reach." A very dedicated hand, maybe. There's only so many hiding spots he has.

"Do you have a ride back home?" the woman says.

He stares at her, and he feels his jaw drop when he realizes. "Bollocks. I overshared, didn't I?"

She just smiles. "I mean, I have a car, and space for two... how many of you are there?"

He scratches behind his ear. "Don't worry. We've got a car. And we going right back to Brighton, anyway."

"Oh.” She seems to think for a moment. “I don't even know where that is."

He holds back a laugh. "Figured so. From your accent."

Her smile widens. "I'm Emma," she says, extending her hand.

"Killian," he gives his hand back, careful to keep his left arm inside his jacket pocket. She's still looking at his face when he drops his hand to his side. "So... you know that they're actually having a few concerts in the States for this tour, right? How come you decided to fly all over to here?"

"Well, today... or more like, yesterday," she pauses as she checks her watch, "was my birthday. This was more like a birthday gift to me, and of course I'm going to see them in-” She pauses suddenly. “What?"

She's obviously cut off by the expression on his face. "You're not kidding? Tomorrow- or, today, is my birthday."

"Wow. Happy birthday, then."

"Happy birthday to you too. Seems it was a great one."

Emma seems happy as she looks back at the now empty stage. "I'd say one of the best ones. Does your birthday seem promising?"

His chest feels twice its normal size when she turns to look at him. Somehow, with their birthdays being so close, it feels as if her having had a great birthday is feeding his own satisfaction for that day, for the first time in four- no, five years.

Some of her slightly messy hair is sticking to her face – she probably went all out dancing tonight – and her eyes seem to droop in drowsiness, but she's absolutely glowing.

Glowing and looking at him.

When she takes a step towards him, it feels like it's gravity that's pulling his own body to her.

"It seems that way, aye," he replies.

Her eyes close when she's a few inches away from him, but he waits for the moment his lips touch hers to close his eyes.

~

(A/N: I want to remind the readers that this chapter is told from Killian's point of view, distorted as it is from grief, rage and isolation from the people he loves. Emotional progress is almost never visible in the short term, especially regarding addictions. Killian might have thought the AA meetings didn't help him, but it doesn't mean that giving up and depending on a controlling person to keep him clean was the healthy thing to do.

I know it's a work of fiction but some lines are easily confused, so the message I want to pass is that if you or a loved one is trying to let go of an addiction, keeping up the effort when progress isn't directly visible may be hard, but it's worth it and will eventually help.)

#Killian Jones #Captain Swan #captain swan ff #cs ff #ouat ff #akfgl #captain swan movie marathon #I swear I hadn't planned on posting this on Colin's birthday 😅 #it's just how it came up #piracytheorist writes

[luminous-studiess]

Seeing as you mentioned in one of your last posts that you’ve learnt how to study in the pas semester, I was wondering if you could share with us your tips & tricks, please? I love your blog ❤️

hi!!!!! first of all, thank you so much for the kind words. it always helps when i hear that people like my content, and it’s nice to know when people on studyblr reach out and motivate each other. i hope you’re doing well as well!i guess i have to preface this with the fact that studying in undergrad is very different from studying in law school. also, studying in different undergraduate courses constitutes very different studying styles as well. for me, i took literature, so it was a lot of writing papers and not much memory work. in law school, there was a LOT of memory work. i did really badly for several months because i wasn’t used to studying for those kinds of exams. i may make posts if anyone’s interested on how to study specifically for literature or law classes, but for now, these are general tips on how to study.this is a long-ass post, so my apologies!

HOW TO STUDY!!!!!!! A HUGE GENERAL GUIDE FROM SAM FROM LUMINOUS STUDIES, AFTER ~7 YEARS OF HOMESCHOOLING, 4 YEARS OF UNDERGRAD (AND A MAGNA CUM LAUDE) AND ONE TERRIFYING SEMESTER OF LAW SCHOOL. 

FIRST THINGS FIRST: general tips, some life advice, preparation

- actual intelligence matters very little in school. some people learn faster, some take a little more time. being smart in itself does not matter when you don’t work. actual hard work can compensate for a less retentive memory (as i’ve found out over the semester). discipline and a lot of hard work always pay off, even if it seems rocky at first. make the resolve to dedicate a set amount of time to study everyday, even if it’s just an hour or so. a little is better than nothing. - my constitutional law professor (aka my favorite professor) advised one of my classmates to log her work hours. while it seems tempting to set a specific timeslot to get things done, sometimes life gets in the way, and you don’t actually get to work at 3 pm. maybe most of the time you sit at 3 pm is spent fiddling on your phone. to actually track productivity and consistency, time the hours you actively spend studying. put away all your distractions. personally, i like the forest app because it forces me to stay away from social media and lets me use the pomodoro method. on good study days, i get to log my work time in batches of 25 minutes. again, it can be the amount of hours you put in, but what matters is the quality of work you put in. stay consistent. i promise you. it helps- on the study environment: sometimes studyblr convinces you that you need a coffeeshop, an aesthetic library, a beautiful italian garden to get things done. that would be ideal, but most of us don’t have access to that. i suggest you evaluate if you work better in public spaces with a little sound ambience, to hold yourself accountable (coffeeshops, the school library, with friends), or in private, quiet spaces. once you know where you work best, know what keeps you focused. is it tea? a glass of iced coffee? a lofi playlist? a podcast? i find that process a little fun because it keeps the study process a little less dull and uncomfortable, as it often can be. don’t forget to keep it pleasant/rewarding, but note that overindulgence can distract you. trust me, i know this from experience.- study materials: are what you want and what you need. you don’t need anything fancy. personally, i need many colored pens and highlighters because i have a color-coding system for cases and provisions, but for undergrad, my best weapons were just a black ballpen and a nice mildliner. it’s preferential, and just see what works for you. - on study anxiety: i have mental health issues. i’ve been seeing a psychiatrist (and lately a therapist) for depression and anxiety, and it used to be really, really bad, to the point i couldn’t start. i think the best place to start is to find that kind of help if you really have bad mental health. but if it’s the kind of anxiety that stems from being worried that things won’t turn out well, or that there’s too much to do, it’s always best to start, and to remember that even a little, or something imperfect, is still progress. try it for 5 minutes. if you still can’t do it, rest. but sometimes we just need a little push. other things that really calm my anxiety are a good baroque playlist (check out baroque lute/jordi savali’s the celtic viol/bach’s goldberg variations on spotify!!!), jazz, or lofi, and lavender room spray. i also like to use gifs which help you with breathing techniques. you can find them all over tumblr and twitter. it’s also really helpful to ask others for help when you feel stuck. i’ve asked professors for a little consideration and classmates for advice and clarifications when i’m confused. reaching out to other people is often a great way to start the learning process. 

- scheduling: i find it hard to keep on top of things, so i’m really thankful to the classmate who added me to a google calendar with all the class assignments. i think it’s a great system for knowing what the assignments are, so google calendar is your friend. for daily tasks, bullet journals help keep me accountable. i have a really simple one. quick and dirty. ACTUALLY STUDYING: methods, tricks, tips- consider the subject. different classes require different methods. some classes like math and chemistry – which, disclaimer, i have very little experience with – require practice problems. for literature classes, this requires much free analysis, annotations, research, and your own interpretations. other classes like history and geology require the memorization of topics. consider what information you need to learn, and how you want to approach it.- TAKE NOTES DURING THE LECTURE. i can’t stress this enough. if the teacher or professor mentions it, it’s probably important. nowadays, for major classes, i mark the topic on the syllabus with a special-colored highlighter that i won’t use for anything else so i know it’s crucial and will probably turn up on an exam. note: if they place special emphasis on a bit of information because it probably WILL turn up during the exam. one of my professors mentioned that a case would probably turn up during the philippine bar exam and guess what. it did. listen to the professor, don’t goof around on twitter (me to my undergraduate self, tbh), take good notes. make the notes into a reviewer during exam season. pass the class.- pre-studying helps. this is mandatory in law school, because mostly, you go to class to regurgitate what you’ve studied (or didn’t study) on your own from the syllabus. for undergrad, however, it helps to give yourself a background on the material so you can engage in the class, and take notes more efficiently. also, as much as possible, do the required reading. you’ll probably do it in one night anyway before the exam, so at least spread your work out and do a reasonable amount weekly.- on that note: if you’re going to rush through the syllabus and do “a semester’s worth of info” in one night (yes we’ve all seen Those Memes) anyway, it will be less of a pain in the ass to actually do the work slowly and consistently every week. trust me. this comes from a procrastinator who’s getting bitten in the ass, so please learn this as early as you can. it saves you a lot of pain later on.- THE CLASS SYLLABUS IS YOUR BIBLE. it’s all there. before classes, go through it. keep it with you during class and annotate it if you have to. some of my friends like to space the syllabus out on a document file so they use the headings for note-making. the syllabus will be your friend during review season.- always learn actively. if you don’t know a word or term, it will always help to google. make notes in the margins. make flashcards so you state information and retrieve it instead of just recognizing it. form study groups. rewrite your notes. engage with what you’re learning and it becomes so much more interesting, and so much easier. - set a time to unwind religiously. breaks are so important to avoid burnout. i like friday nights for unwinding, family dinners, reading, watching series. please rest. REVIEW SEASON: HOW TO COPE. HOW TO PASS. HOW TO CRY AS LITTLE AS POSSIBLE. - exams are scary. i used to enjoy them, until law school, where i’ve been beaten up thoroughly by every exam. but strangely enough, this is where i only learned how to actually study for an exam with huge blocks of information. i realized that this method really helps for undergrad, and probably will get you honors if you stick to a similarly solid method. - study as early as you can. once you know when the exam is, make a study plan. two weeks is a good minimum. sometimes, there are professors and teachers who announce only a week before, which is unavoidable, so honestly. just make a plan. i tend to assign a set number of syllabus pages to cover/study for on each day so i have time to do a second reading/quizzing. - HOW TO REVIEW: remember the class notes? remember the syllabus? those will help you cover everything you need once you schedule. the syllabus is your map for what you need to cover. assume that everything in the syllabus is something you need to go over at least once, so assign a set number of pages/topics per day. the class notes are your guide on what to focus on. note the special topics which have been emphasized by the lecturer. it also helps if you know what parts you’re very unsure about, so you know what to work on again when you have extra time. i tend to make reviewers out of my class notes, which also helps to retain info, because i go over it again. make time to re-read and quiz yourself. - blanking out on exam day? i can honestly assure you that it’s probably because you didn’t sleep enough. you’ve studied the information, but sleep deprivation either makes you fall asleep during the exam (which has happened) or forget what you learned (which has also happened). if you’ve made the time to repeat what you’ve needed to learn, the studying isn’t the problem. i make a rule to try and avoid all-nighters when necessary because sleep is integral in helping you retain information. when i need extra time to study, i go to bed early, and wake up around 3 or 4 am to study some more. it really helps.DEALING WITH FAILURE: - my professor (a huge businessman, constitutionalist, overall a very successful person) told me that he would not get where he is now if he hadn’t failed. failure is growth because you know you’re doing something. the only true “failure” is when you stop trying. some days are hard, some days don’t yield the results even when you work hard. it’s okay. be gentle on yourself. you are still growing.- sometimes i think about the fact that “gifted child syndrome” aka burnout and perfectionism stem from how many smart kids are often praised for their intelligence and not their work ethic. so when they do badly later in life, they think it’s because they weren’t “smart enough” and give up easily. i think much of doing anything entails a lot of embarrassment, a lot of hard work, and lots of failure. it’s so hard to put up with, and it can often be depressing and unhealthy and put you in a bad place. sometimes we need to talk to someone professional, if it gets to that point. but sometimes, it also helps to realize that a little hard work will help us to get where we want to be. - ask for help. i talk to my friends, my parents, and my professors when i’m stuck. it really helps.ok, whew. i know there’s so much more about studying. but i hope this helps for now. please let me know if you guys want more specific study guides. good luck, loves! you got this.– sam 

#studyblr #study tips #studying #studyign #college #college tips #university #study motivation #studyspo #motivation #student #law student #lawblr #ph studyblr #studylustre #stillstudies #einstein #einstetic #obsidianstudy #studyplant #studypetals #emmastudies #heyreva #asks #anon #luminous studies #luminous law

[lightwoodsmagic]

Hi! So I agree Liam is queer, and the pink🔺in his video compels me not to ignore it. I saw one of your Ziam posts making its rounds after the SIU video, so I thought you were the person to ask. I only joined the fandom after Zayn left, and I’ve always had a hard time finding info on why and how that played out at the time (nobody seems to agree). Could you elaborate (or link to previous posts) on why you think Ziam is still a thing, and how they are telling us? Thanks for your insight so far!

 Hi anon! 

Thank you so much for thinking of me! I’m sorry it’s taken me a little while to answer, but it took me a bit to gather all the info I wanted (while I should’ve been working oop).

Okay, please know that this post is gonna be loooooong, so I’ve popped it under the cut.

You’re right about nobody agreeing on Zayn leaving the band, and it makes sense that people have differing views. It’s such a complicated thing; there was a lot happening at the time. 

I’m going to start by saying there’s a brilliant masterpost about Zayn leaving here. It’s incredibly detailed, talks about pretty much every aspect of it, and there’s so much to look into. It’s also wonderful to demonstrate how much the boys and Zayn still hinted at things and loved each other, like Harry using Zayn’s mic one night, Liam talking about him fondly in interviews, Niall still calling him by his nickname, and Louis wearing his clothes.

It’s a long read, but incredibly worth it, as it this stunting timeline.

Everyone is absolutely entitled to their opinion, so I’ll just give you mine. I’m gonna keep it (kind of) short though. A lot of what I’m about to say can be found in the masterposts I’ve linked above.

I believe that Zayn leaving was out of his control, and was never completely his decision. I believe that he was set to return, but for some reason, the plan changed. Mind of Mine was apparently written before he left, and while I think he would’ve been working on solo music before he left (and that all of them were to some extent), to tease an album right after the announcement that he left makes no sense. A contract like the one that 1D had/has with Syco would cost an obscene amount of money to get out of, and Zayn’s net worth didn’t change at all. They made it seem so simple in the very few interviews with Zayn afterwards, saying he just called his security, got on a plane, and left. I think Zayn struggled a lot with everything, they all did, but I don’t think he could’ve just left. There were articles put out about his new album that mentioned Simco and everything, but when people pointed out that it didn’t make sense with the narrative that Simon felt ‘betrayed’, the references were removed straight away. 

There’s also a very solid theory that MoM was counted as One Direction’s sixth and final contracted album, and it really stands up. Check it out! 

Look. There’s a lot to unpack with the whole situation, and I’ve hardly touched on it at all, but I really do encourage you to look into it with everything I’ve linked above  💞

Okay, now onto the second part of your ask! 

Ziam. My loooovveesss.  

I’m going to start by saying that there’s a lot of ways that Liam and Zayn have hinted that they’re still together, and honestly? The boys ain’t even subtle about it. I’ll start by talking about heaps of ways they’ve done that since Zayn left!

Alright, let’s start with the fact that they WILL NOT STOP LIKING, REBLOGGING, AND RETWEETING POSTS FROM ZIAM ACCOUNTS. 

(x) (x)

These aren’t subtle Ziam accounts, and it’s not just these examples. This also isn’t just something in the past; that bottom right one references Stack It Up.

They’ve also both reposted fanart from a well known Ziam where each drawing referenced the other one. 

(x)

The Zayn art says ‘Love Payne’ on the beanie. Well then. 

And the Liam one? That he posted on his personal insta? The artist added the ‘love’ tattoo from Zayn’s hand onto Liam’s. It’s obvious, and it’s not like Liam wouldn’t have noticed that suddenly there was a new tattoo added ON HIS OWN HAND. 

Not very subtle, hey.

It’s also not the only shady social media activity related to the boys  👀

There was the time that Liam explained why he’d written ‘personally’ twice in a thank you post in his insta story to Bvlgari. 

But he hadn’t. What had happened was that Twitter account @TheZiamNews had made a small mistake, and had actually written it twice. The only explanation was that Liam saw it on a Ziam update page VERY quickly, thought he had made the original mistake, and then explained. Interesting that Liam keeps up to date with them. 

There was also the time Liam blocked an account for talking absolute shit about Zayn, or when Herbie Critchlow (a producer from Icarus Falls) retweeted a tweet about Common being about Ziam. Also can’t forget Brandon Colbein posting on insta about some songs he’d written, and somehow there was one for Zayn and one for Liam. 

Oh, and when Liam’s friend Andy (who seems to…split the fandom, but alas) posted a video of him listening to Icarus Falls, or every single mirroring insta post Liam and Zayn can’t seem to help making.

And their eyebrow slits! 😊 this goes allllll the way back to One Direction days.

(x)

Now, this is a constant, recurring thing for them over the years.

It’s usually at the same time, and it usually signifies something. 

Zayn went ALL OUT one day, just after Z*gi ‘broke up’, and put a slit in his eyebrow, but it wasn’t a normal one. It was in the shape of an L. That fucking sap. Not to be outdone though, Liam popped a lil’ Z in the graphics for his show last year in Japan. 

SAPS, THE BOTH OF THEM.

Now, jewellery. 

OOOOOF are we in for it now. You’re probably regretting this ask already. 

Cartier. 

Say that single word around someone who believes in Ziam and you’ve lost them forever. 

Back in 2015 (so yes, a while ago but bear with me) during the OTRA tour, Zayn suddenly started wearing a gold Cartier bracelet. It was interesting because Zayn didn’t wear bracelets at the time. It was particularly interesting because Liam had been seen earlier that day with jewellery bags buying a present. Curious.

Or obvious. 

Either or. 

A similar thing happened when Zayn attended the ‘Straight Outta Compton’ premiere, one of his first appearances after he left the band. He was wearing a Hublot watch, which was also interesting because Zayn didn’t wear watches either. 

But GUESS WHERE LIAM HAD BEEN 2 DAYS BEFORE THE PREMIERE?

You’re damn right, anon. It was Hublot.

Now, the Cartier love bracelet. 

This picture was posted when Liam was getting ready for the Brits in 2017. For those that don’t know, the Cartier love bracelet has little screws, and can only be undone with a little gold screwdriver that comes with it. 

Liam wore it everywhere that year, and so often. It didn’t make sense for it to be ‘given to him by Ch*ryl’, because they would’ve used every opportunity to show that damn screwdriver. 

But they didn’t, because she didn’t have it. Zayn did. 

There’s also the other matching bracelets they’ve worn by Alexander McQueen.

And also the other time Zayn wore Cartier in his film clip, or the fact that Zayn started wearing a ring on his right ring finger that was sold and marketed by Cartier AS A WEDDING RING. 

They also share watches if Zayn decides to wear one, because they’re cute like that.

Now, they also share clothes. 

So many clothes, ohmygod. 

(x)

A prime example of this actually happened just last year! TWICE! IN NYC WHEN LIAM WAS THERE (obviously to see his husband). Both times, Liam was out and about wearing two of Zayn’s jackets. 

It’s also absolutely not a coincidence that when Zayn was staying at G*gi’s apartment on Bond Street, Liam stayed at a hotel a few minutes away a number of times, but when Zayn moved to Soho, Liam suddenly switched hotels to one in Soho, a few minutes away from Zayn’s new place. Just can’t stay away from an old band mate you hardly talk to, hey. 

Also can’t ignore Liam wearing numerous Kooples shirts during the time Zayn was doing promotional stuff for them. Husbands givin’ gifts.

 NYC isn’t the only city that relates to Ziam though! 

Ahhhhhhhh. Ziami. What a time, what a time, what a time (for you and I).

Anyway. 

At the start of last year, Liam and Zayn were both in Miami at the same time filming music videos for Let Me and Familiar respectively, arriving either at the same time or a day apart. It was at a time when Zayn was all over his socials, posting poems and selfies and generally being his relaxed, gorgeous self, which wasn’t incredibly common for a while. 

People were convinced they could hear Zayn in one of Liam’s insta stories, talking in the background just before Liam realises and raises his voice. It’s definitely not firm though, and Liam has someone in his team with a similar accent, but I’ve linked it so you can judge for yourself! Regardless, we knew they were both there, but it was a fun lil’ talking point!

Anyway, according to people who live in the area and know the coastline, they were in the same area at the same time, and we also knew that Liam wasn’t with Ch*ryl because she was back in the UK. Now, Liam posted an Instagram story the next morning half naked in bed, his 4 tattoo (we’ll get to that) and roses on full display, and saying he’d wrecked his voice. 

Well then. 

He also posted this. 

It was a video, but it was Liam, in his room ‘alone’ with two desserts for breakfast at a time when we knew Zayn was there and no one else was, and he suddenly had no voice. 

Okay okay, we get it. 

They also consistently reference the number 25, and honestly, no one knows why the fuck.

Just casually on Liam’s jackets and shoes, Zayn’s shoes and a shirt that was sold (even the red and yellow, ffs Zayn), and also Zayn’s NECK, which he got in 2018. There was also chevrons on a collection for Zayn, just like Liam’s tattoos.

Speaking of tattoos Zayn got in 2018. 

That big, red wolf on his chest just up there?

One of the biggest Ziam things to ever happen. 

Red was Liam’s mic colour in 1D, everything they fucking do seems to be related to red, and Liam’s nickname is Wolfie because he’s from Wolverhampton. 

It’s a red wolf, directly on his chest, and it’s 100% for Liam. It’s not the only red wolf tattoo Zayn has; he also has one on his leg with feathers, just like Liam’s feather tattoo. 

The media often talk about the eyes Zayn has underneath that, and that they’re for G*gi, but the eyes underneath are so much lighter than the surrounding ink, the shape fits easily, and to me, it seems clear they’ve been done in a way that they can easily be inked over. It was designed for a cover up, and hopefully it’s coming. Zayn also has Liam’s name literally inked into his skin. 

They also have coordinating hand tattoos. The mandala on Zayn’s hand and the roses on Liam’s are explained brilliantly in this post. The two of these together mean ‘Symbol of Eternity’. Fucking hell. 

The three roses on Liam’s hand also translates to ‘I love you’. FUUUCCCKKKKKKK.

Liam also wore a ring for a while, until he was forced to take it off, but then he rebelled anyway, and got this.

It’s important because not only is it on his wedding finger, it’s also what he said about it, and when he got it. 

Now, not only is 4 as an angel number about changing the only things that you can in a situation, but Liam directly said that’s what it was. He can’t wear a wedding ring, so he did the next best thing. 

It also came when Liam and Ch*ryl became ‘official’, and when he’d already quashed marriage twice in an interview. Interesting choice, then. He also spoke of the 4 and a ring forming a halo, but still somehow shut down marriage talk? 

…….okay then. 

Some incredibly brilliant people pointed out that it also came just before Valentine’s Day.

And just before he started wearing the Cartier bracelet from earlier. 

There’s also the blatant references to a gorgeous, loving relationship throughout Icarus Falls, especially in Common and There You Are. There You Are was pushed as a Z*gi song, but people realised it was impossible when they found old pictures of the name of the song on his original plan for Mind of Mine, and realised it just hadn’t made that album. It doesn’t fit their timeline at all, but it does fit Ziam.

We don’t see Zayn very much at the moment, and I’m glad that he’s taking his time just doing what he’s doing! It does mean that we hardly see them interact or reference each other much, but I have absolutely no reason to believe they’ve broken up. The fact that they’re both still going through PR relationship bullshit, and the timing of Liam getting a ‘girlfriend’ right now instead of just rumours is very interesting to me, because Z*gi officially finished again not that long ago. When one is ‘single’, the other can’t be, it seems. 

This isn’t even everything, anon. They’re not subtle; Zayn just isn’t in the public eye as much. 

Everything they do screams love, devotion, and commitment to each other. 

And it’s fucking gorgeous.

#ziam #zayn leaving #ziam tattoos #ziam coincidences #zayn malik #liam payne #ziam evidence #masterpost

[brandyovereager]

The Phoenix Effect - pt. 3

That’s right, chapter three is here! I finally have some sort of plan for this story so hopefully that means my updates will come sooner ;) Enjoy! Let me know what you think! I take questions, prompts, etc.

On ao3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22195906/chapters/58129639#workskin

Summary: Rowan is in Rifthold with Dorian when a strange phenomenon sweeps the land. Those once dead are popping up alive. Everyday, more and more are Reborn. One day Rowan encounters a Reborn young man who refuses to give his name, only asking to know the whereabouts of Celaena Sardothein.

--

All the records in Adarlan were kept in a section of the Royal Library, commonly referred to as the Hall of Records. There were birth certificates, land deeds, census records, and all manner of official information. If the person this young man was looking for had lived in Adarlan, there would be some trace of them in the library.

“This is the best place to start searching for someone. That is, if the person you are looking for would appear on any official record.” Rowan met the young man’s eyes with a questioning eyebrow. If he and this person were mixed up in troublesome business, there was a high chance they would keep their dealings secret, or at least under an alias.

“I know a couple names that might be on property deeds or shop accounts.” It was a short answer, affirmative, but vague. The names were definitely aliases. It only served to reinforce Rowan’s theory that these were dangerous people. This young man needed the Fae’s protection as well as his discretion.

The Hall of Records was currently swarmed with reassimilation specialists filing in and out to get information on their assigned Reborns. It should have been impossible to access the hall, but being the King of Terrasen and a well-known Fae warrior meant the humans didn’t question him. Most simply ducked their heads and moved out of Rowan’s way.

The most current records were kept in an oak cabinet on the left side of the hall. Rowan figured that was the best place to start. If there was no recent information on their person of interest they would work backwards from there.

“Any official records from the last six months will be in this cabinet. They’re separated into drawers by city, may I ask which drawer you will be needing?” There was another implied question within Rowan’s words. Would the young man share any more information with the Fae, or should he be left to his own devices?

The young man stared intently at Rowan for a time before answering.

“We’ll begin our search in Rifthold, but it is likely she is no longer here.” It would seem Rowan had earned a bit more of the young man’s trust.

In his mind he started to piece information together. They were looking for a woman, probably last seen by the young man in Rifthold. It was possible he had died here. If the people after them had succeeded in killing the young man, there was a high chance the woman had fled to avoid meeting the same fate.

Identifying the drawer for Rifthold, Rowan pulled it open and stepped back to allow the young man privacy in his search. A warrior at heart, he retreated to stand against the wall and observe the specialists milling about around them. He would keep a lookout while averting his eyes to the young man’s activities.

————

Sam was growing increasingly more perplexed by the King of Terrasen. The king was obviously Fae—though Sam had never seen one in person before—his pointed ears and ethereal stature giving him away. Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius was a solid, hulking warrior who had likely seen more years of battle than Sam had seen with living eyes. The assassin in him was on high alert from the obvious threat the Fae posed, but a more human part of him was observing Rowan for another reason.

The male was unlike any royal Sam had ever encountered. As the king led him to the Hall of Records, Sam took notice of his tense posture and strained smiles when addressed by passing courtiers. He was a king, and as such was owed their deference in the form of slight bows and polite greetings, but his reactions were steeped in discomfort. He was unused to this level of respect then, and did not revel in it. Sam very much wanted to know how Rowan became the husband of the once lost Aelin Ashryver Galathynius.

Throughout their interactions so far the Fae has been gruff and aloof. They’d had a no-nonsense exchange of information and a plan of action was decided, very military. The most emotion the Fae had shown was a minutely more pleasant face when he spoke of his Queen.

Though cold as he may seem, Rowan—the King of Terrasen—had taken time out of his royal agenda to help an anonymous young man. He had demanded no information from Sam, had even averted his eyes while Sam searched the current records. This king understood discretion, had experience with it, and respected Sam’s need for it. He was quite the enigma indeed.

The most puzzling fact of all was that some part of Sam trusted him. Each bit of information he revealed put him and Celaena more at risk, but somehow he knew the male would not share a word. Sam got the feeling Rowan was a vault of secrets.

The first name Sam looked under in the current records was Dianna Brackyn, the alias Celaena used when they worked for Arobynn. That search yielded absolutely nothing. He had expected as much—if Arobynn had killed him Celaena likely wouldn’t have stayed in Rifthold under a known alias—but it didn’t calm any of the fear that’d been roiling in his abdomen. He just needed some proof that she was alive, that Arobynn hadn’t gotten to her too.

Of course, there were worse tortures Arobynn could inflict upon Celaena than death. Sam’s fear roiled again.

Before moving to another drawer to search, Sam decided to check the records for any trace of Arobynn or the other assassins in the guild. There was nothing in the drawer for Hammel, but what most piqued Sam’s curiosity was the deed for the Keep. The deed listed the official owners of the property as Tern, Harding, and Mullin.

“Where might I find news postings from four years ago?” With his words the Fae looked in Sam’s direction for the first time since he started his search.

“Three cabinets to your right. The drawer for news specifically in Rifthold is two from the bottom.” Yet another short, militaristic response. Information was given, with none asked for in return.

Something had happened to Arobynn, that had to be why his three lackeys now owned the Keep. A vengeful part of Sam hoped Celaena had killed the bastard, but even so, four years was plenty of time for Arobynn to hurt her before then.

She wasn’t listed as one of the owners of the Keep. Had she gotten away, just like they’d planned to together?

It would appear not. The sickening feeling in his gut was right. He had to reread the headline three times, whether to understand it in his shocked state or for some sort of masochistic torture, but there it was:

ADARLAN’S ASSASSIN FINALLY APPREHENDED, SENTENCED TO ENDOVIER.

She’d been sent to Endovier. Nobody survived the mines. Celaena was stronger than most, but it had been four years. There was hardly any chance she would still be alive after that long as a slave in Endovier. Still, some part of him held out hope. He needed to see her name on a list of the dead before he gave up on her. This was Celaena.

“Is there any record of the slaves in Endovier, living or dead?” The king’s eyebrow lifted, cogs turning and piecing facts together in his head.

“Endovier is no more. The late King of Adarlan massacred all those interned within both it and Calculla roughly a year ago.” It was another shot to his roiling gut. Even if Celaena had held out for three years in the slave mines, she would have been outright slaughtered anyway.

The look on Rowan’s face indicated he was growing more suspicious—that he might start demanding answers to previously ignored questions—but Sam couldn’t deal with that just yet. With Arobynn gone—hopefully brutally murdered—Sam didn’t have to stay hidden. He needed answers, but more importantly he needed to make someone pay for Celaena’s fate. It was time to visit the Keep.

“I’ll answer whatever questions you have later, but right now I have something important to do.”

@rowaelinforeverworld

Message me or reply to be tagged!

#throne of glass #throne of glass fic #throne of glass fanfiction #tog #tog fic #tog fanfic #tog fanfiction #rowan #rowan whitethorn #rowan whitethorn galathynius #rowan x aelin #rowaelin fic #aelin #aelin ashryver galathynius #aelin ashryver #aelin galythinius #celaena sardothien #sam cortland #sam x celaena #celaena #sjm #sjmaas #sjm fanfic #sjm fic #sarah j maas #the phoenix effect

[kerfufflewatch]

Candy/ pastries or your pain is mine

everyone asked for candy/pastries, and I wrote way too much, and I’m pretending that’s because everyone asked for it and not because I have no self-control

[on AO3]

--

"Kinda surprised you like sweet stuff that much," McCree remarks. 

Hanzo only gives him the barest of glances before returning his attention to the doughnut box on the counter. McCree had found a proper doughnut shop while they were here in the States--one of those local places that was big enough to be noteworthy but small enough to still have product worth talking about--and brought back a solid half-dozen to the safehouse. It was, admittedly, entirely too much sugar even for two grown men, but it'd been a long and frankly boring mission and he thought they deserved something.

After a moment's deliberation, Hanzo liberates the box of its blueberry cake doughnut and sets it on a napkin that is already dusted with crumbs and flakes of glaze. "And why is that?" he asks as he sets to pouring a cup of coffee. 

"Dunno. You're so fit. Figured you were one of those guys who counted every calorie and eats their body weight in protein every day."

Hanzo snorts softly at that. "The fact that I put some thought into my meal composition, unlike some people, does not make me obsessed."

"Mmhm."

Hanzo shoots him a glare that is more amused than annoyed, then returns to his coffee. "You are not too far off, I suppose," he says, slowly pouring milk into his cup until it reaches the precise color he deems acceptable. "When I was younger, I did maintain a much stricter diet--it was considered childish to indulge in something with no health benefits. After, it simply became one of those things that I did not need and did not permit myself."

"And now?"

"Now I have learned that denying myself cake will not restore my honor." His coffee spoon clinks sharply against the countertop.

"Nah. Not unless it was a real good cake." Hanzo laughs a little and, as always, it makes McCree's heart flutter and his mouth incapable of shutting up just in case he can get Hanzo to do it again. "What's your favorite, then?"

Hanzo has to think on that for a moment. Then he answers, "Taiyaki, I think. Although to be fair, I think it is mostly whatever I am in the mood for."

McCree hides his smile in his coffee cup. He really is too far gone to be helped. "Fair enough."

"What about you?"

McCree shrugs. "Never had that much of a sweet tooth, to be honest. I mean, yeah, here and there," he adds, gesturing vaguely at the doughnut box, "but . . . I guess I'd never turn down a slice of apple pie, though."

The corner of Hanzo's mouth lifts in something that might be amusement, though McCree's not sure why. "Really."

"Used to drive my mamá mad. She must've disowned me six or seven times for it, back in the day. Why not her flan, or sopapillas, or something else she had a family recipe for." McCree chuckles at the old memory, his mother sighing and putting her flour-dusted hands on her hips as her son continued to betray their proud Mexican heritage. "But yeah. That's the favorite, I think."

Hanzo laughs softly. "A troublemaker at every turn."

"That's me." McCree brushes past Hanzo to pour himself another cup of coffee. Going by the files Winston sent this morning, it’s looking like it might be a half-pot kind of day. “Gotta say, though, damn hard to find any decent apple pie out where we’re stationed. They got stuff like it around, I guess, but none of it’s quite right. Think the last time I had any was . . .”

He trails off. He’d been about to say it was probably the better part of a year and a half, but come to think of it, it’s probably been about a year. It wasn’t much, but he remembers now: serving himself a cup of burnt diner coffee and a slice of pie from the display case, sitting in a cracked vinyl seat with the best view of the railroad over the gorge, getting one bite in before having to abandon it. He’d barely appreciated it at the time with his attention focused elsewhere, but the taste of tart apple and sweet cinnamon had lingered on his tongue through the hell that followed, mixed with gunpowder and dust.

“McCree?”

McCree blinks out of his reverie. His sugar spoon still hovers over his coffee, teetering and threatening to spill. He hastily dumps the sugar and gives it a stir. “Sorry. Got a little distracted there,” he says, putting on an easy smile. “Was a bit of a rough day last time, is all.”

Hanzo seems unconvinced, but he knows when to let things drop. It’s one of the many things McCree appreciates about him. 

They lapse into a companionable quiet. Hanzo breaks off a small piece of the doughnut and pops it into his mouth. He absentmindedly sucks a crumb off the pad of his thumb, and McCree forgets all about pointing out that he'd actually bought that particular doughnut for himself. 

—

They're both sent back to the States again within the month, but on separate, minor missions. Hanzo goes off with his brother and Angela. McCree tries not to think about how irritable that makes him. 

McCree's sent out on a solo mission for three weeks, investigating a business out in Canada Winston worries might have some Talon ties. It looks and acts like a standard accounting firm, and three weeks of running coffee and organizing files doesn’t give McCree any reason to believe otherwise. The tedium slowly grates on his nerves, and being treated like a witless errand boy does so more quickly, until he’s certain that he has none left carrying him through. 

The whole thing is made worse by having to maintain radio silence the entire three weeks. He wasn't necessarily the sort to enjoy long text conversations or phone calls, but he could always count on a wry response from Angela or Genji if he sent them updates or complaints, and Lena and Mei sometimes just liked to check in. He gets none of this, though, and it leaves him far too much time to think. 

And of course, because his heart's a goddamn fool, he finds himself missing Hanzo the most. 

For a while, as one does once a crush starts to become a little bit desperate, McCree entertains the notion of telling Hanzo in a variety of ways. With how long they've known each other, just asking for a date seems too distant. Grand gestures are something, but anything too grand would just leave Hanzo embarrassed and irritable regardless of how he felt in return. He doesn't know when Hanzo's birthday is and asking Genji would mean any surprise would be ruined. 

At some point, he remembers the conversation with Hanzo during their last mission, and he thinks for far too long about gifting Hanzo with some sort of sweet thing. Cakes and candies were romantic, weren't they? Except something generic would go over about as well as a snowball taking a lovely vacation in Hell, and Hanzo deserves better than some dime-a-dozen chocolates. 

He dithers and sighs and eventually forgets about the whole thing after a week or so, and the conversation shortly thereafter. The whole idea is a fool's errand, anyway--it all assumes that Hanzo would want him at all. 

Just before he can drive himself mad with hypotheticals,  he digs up a handwritten set of budgets in someone's locked office desk that, even coded and vague, implicate the business in some illicit dealings quite nicely. He activates the little automatic drone that helpfully scans and uploads all of the pages straight to  Athena and Winston, neatly replaces everything, and slips out of the city the moment he is given the all-clear. 

By the time he gets back to Gibraltar, the combination of a shitty mission and an equally shitty flight has him too exhausted and irritable. He checks in with Winston, drags himself through the shower, and flops onto his bed. He’s too antsy for sleep, but he can at least use a few minutes with his eyes closed before he has to dodge the rest of the team to find food. 

He only gets a couple of minutes before there is a knock on his door. He sighs up at the ceiling. “Just a sec.”

His irritation all but evaporates when he opens the door to find Hanzo on the other side. He has a paper bag in one arm, wafting the rich scent of food, and a bottle of whiskey in the other. 

"Well damn," McCree says. "Rollin' out a hero's welcome."

Hanzo rolls his eyes, even as he smiles. "Hello to you, as well. I thought you might like to celebrate your success, but if not . . ."

McCree snorts. "Success. Yeah. We'll call it that." 

His tone makes Hanzo's smile immediately drop in a way that makes McCree's stomach do the same.

"Was I mistaken?" Hanzo asks. "The mission brief suggested you were successful, but . . ."

McCree groans, rubbing his hands down his face. “No, you weren't. Sorry, Han," he says wearily. "Was just a long, frustrating sort of job. Bunch of annoying assholes, then me doing a whole lot of nothin’ to prove that they’re assholes. Got me in a bit of a mood, y’know?”

“Oh. I am sorry. Perhaps I should have considered--would you like me to go?”

His expression of mild concern might have fooled anyone else, but McCree knows better nowadays, and he sees the flash of disappointment as it crosses his face. "No, 'course not," he says. "Just warnin' you I might not be the best company."

Hanzo nods, but his brow is still pinched with uncertainty. McCree reaches to take the bag. "Got a couple glasses if you wanna pour us a drink," he says, nodding to the pair he keeps on his desk just for this purpose. 

"I--yes."

McCree pauses as he lifts the first box out of the bag. "Seriously, what's buggin' you?"

"It is nothing."

It's clearly not nothing, but no amount of prying will get Hanzo to talk if he doesn't want to. He unpacks both their meals, but pauses when he finds a third box at the bottom of the bag. This one is smaller and clearly from a different place entirely. 

He looks questioningly at Hanzo, but he is pointedly not watching McCree, pretending to need his entire focus to pour their drinks. McCree opens the box.

What he finds is an apple pie. A full one, untouched, with the slightly uneven look to the crust that comes from something handmade. He looks to Hanzo again, his mouth running dry. 

"Why . . . ?" he starts, and finds himself unable to finish the question.

Hanzo sits on the edge of the bed and shrugs one shoulder, now very interested in the contents of his glass. "We ended up getting dinner the last night of our mission," he says, too casually. "One of their specialties was apparently their pies, and I remembered what you had said before."

Forgetting dinner entirely, McCree grabs one of the forks from the bag and carves out a piece of the pie right from the center. Hanzo mutters "That is barbaric," but is ignored. 

It's good, definitely one of the better apple pies he's had--tart apples and sweet cinnamon, perfectly flaky crust that just about melts on the tongue. But it's the full realization of what Hanzo's done--not only remembering some inane conversation from weeks ago, but going out of his way to bring back a gift--that has him struggling to speak.

"Thank you, Hanzo" McCree says when he finally has his voice again. "This is real nice of you." Hanzo gives him a halfhearted smile. "Is this what's been eatin' at you this whole time?"

Hanzo purses his lips and runs his fingertip around the rim of his glass, which is now conspicuously empty. It is a long moment before he answers. "I had hoped to--to have a rather different conversation, but now I believe it might be better saved for another time, if you are not feeling well. It is no matter."

McCree's heart feels full to bursting. He sets aside the box and sits beside Hanzo on the bed. He knocks his hand lightly against Hanzo's and leaves it there, fingers resting in the valleys of Hanzo's knuckles. "Dunno," he says. "Seems like it might be somethin' worth talking about to me."

Realization dawns on Hanzo's face slowly. When he finally meets McCree's eye again, it's with a shy, sweet smile.

Much later, after confessions and dinner and a few self-conscious laughs are shared, McCree offers to split the rather large piece of pie with Hanzo. It's good, and he ends up eating most of it, but finds it tastes better off Hanzo's lips.

#Kerfuffle Fic #scenario prompts #Overwatch #McHanzo #Anonymous

[darnellbebop]

Decided I’d write up the story of my experience with that catfish. Don’t know if anyone cares but it’s under the cut if you do:

So back in November a friend mentioned meeting someone on Facebook Dating. My first thought was “That’s kind of dumb” but then I figured since your profile for that is linked directly to your Facebook, I wouldn’t see as many spam profiles and I may have also took the possibility of catfish into mind. Not sure. But if I did, talk about ironic. Within the first couple days I matched a pretty girl and messaged her about Hogwarts houses since Harry Potter was on her profile.We hit it off pretty well and exchanged numbers and things seemed to be going well. She worked two jobs (Lush and PF Chang’s at a couple different malls in the area). She even mentioned that she’d seen me before at my job a couple months prior. A lot of very realistic shit. Nothing to be suspicious of.

Since she worked two jobs, she worked pretty much 7 days a week. We planned dates a couple times and she always ended up backing out for one reason or another. There were also a couple times we got into disagreements where she would refuse to talk to me for a day and basically have me beg for forgiveness when she decided to “give me another chance”. (That’s a toxic trait even in a real relationship; especially since she expected me to always talk to her even though she could decide “I’m not talking to you because I’m mad”). 

Anyway, about a month or so in, we still hadn’t met up and she asked about sexting so we gave that a go around Thanksgiving. This is when I first got suspicious. We had sexted one night and then the following morning and in the morning I was alarmed to notice that the video taken in the morning was in a different room than the stuff she had sent the previous night. They were both bedrooms. And they both neck down only so I immediately thought “These are not the same person” and said I wasn’t comfortable sexting anymore. This got her mad and she wouldn’t talk to me. During this time I tried digging up proof that the girl was real. Googled her name, her phone number, checked her Facebook and IG. Honestly I came across so much proof that I should have cut her out at this point but I didn’t:

All of her Instagram pics only have comments from guys. No comments from other girls. Kind of weird that none of her friends ever decided to go “Yes girl!!!” on any of her selfies. And on the couple where she was with a friend, she didn’t have them tagged. Additionally, the only photos she was tagged in were from an account belonging to her “brother”. Her Facebook was similar. I forget what brought this up, but I came across a guy’s name who lived in the same town she gave me at some point during all my research and thought “Maybe he’s the catfish” (He definitely is). 

Now there were things that felt like “Well why is this a thing if she’s not real?” too. The biggest one was that on Facebook I came across a guy, a real person (he actually interacts with numerous people in his posts and seemed as real as possible) who claimed he had been dating her at one point. An ex boyfriend felt like proof to me. And then the amount of effort that went into this fake girl also felt insane (Facebook and Instagram accounts that were a few years old and a PSN account). 

When she answered me again she chewed me out for not trusting her. Completely flipped the script on the fact that I found her out and instead made me out to be the bad guy and had me thinking I was just being paranoid for nothing. This is what really makes me mad about the whole situation. Instead of ghosting or apologizing and letting me move on with my life, this dude doubled down on his lie and sunk his claws in deeper.

Since the holidays were coming up, both of our jobs were getting busier so it was understandable that we weren’t able to meet up. I think part of me was still suspicious at this point. When I got her Christmas presents, I got her things that I would still enjoy for myself that I didn’t own just in case she wasn’t real (thank you subconscious me). I get suspicious occasionally when I notice something not quite right but don’t want to be accused of “not trusting her” if I bring it up and do question if I’m maybe being paranoid. Maybe there’s a reasonable explanation.

Fastforward a bit to late February and she sends me a video compilation of some plays she made in Overwatch. After I watch it, I decide to check out the rest of her channel because that’s just something I naturally do after I watch a friend’s video. In the “About” section, a guy’s Instagram is linked. What guy? The one I came across months ago. That was the smoking gun so to be speak. Now maybe it’s possible she’s friends with this guy and just has him upload them to her channel or they share a channel. No reason to jump to conclusions like a paranoid crazy person (See how manipulative this asshole was?). 

By this point, the combination of us having never met up or even FaceTimed had me thinking even if she is real, this is taking forever to get started and I decided I would pursue other girls in the mean time and if nothing happened by the end of the month with her, I’d cut her loose. Then COVID happened and quarantine bought her time since there was an actual excuse for her to not meet up. Thankfully though, she also slowly drifted away from me during quarantine. She texted less and less. One day she finally addressed it and was like “Sorry, for being distant” and I said it was okay and that the boring quarantine routine was probably to blame. Though at the same time I was a bit relieved cuz her disappearing would be fine since I know she’s not real. 

One thing that also stood out to me that I feel like I should have caught on to as a sign was that a lot of her reaction images and pics she’d send me were Black Twitter memes. This was a white girl with an uncomfortable level of Black reaction images. The guy however, is Black. So it makes sense. Then a bit into me watching her play Overwatch one day, she asks me to add her “brother’s account” cuz she’s gonna play on that one instead of her own. Interesting, right? Looking back at it, the “brother” profile on PSN looks very similar to the guy’s IG profile.

I haven’t attempted to talk to her in over a week. Sent a meme. Didn’t get a reply. Didn’t try again. I’m fine with that. Plus when I checked the dude’s Twitter, I found one of his Youtube video links and watched it and the person playing is whoever’s on the PSN account belonging to “her brother”. AKA it’s his and he was just some manipulative asshole piece of shit who can go fuck himself. He’s probably moved on to someone else. Or multiple someone elses. Who knows. I did notice that both profiles have been using “Share Play” for Overwatch without me so I take it, those are sessions with my replacement. 

So yeah. That sucked. I wasted way too long on a piece of shit catfish. I know I did but I also sort of felt like I didn’t have other options at the time. It wasn’t until I actively started looking that I realized, I have other options and don’t need to put up with a catfish or a girl that plays so many games. Also gonna trust my gut unless I’m given solid proof that it’s wrong cuz my gut was right.

#personal #long #catfished

[phungiphotography]

June 28 2020

MAKING MULTIPLE INSTAGRAM ACCOUNTS OR GROWING THE ONE I HAVE?

Trying to grow your instagram account is not an easy thing to do. I’ve found the usual advice with promises of expanded following, farther reach, more interaction, and all that fun stuff. I’m going to compare what I’ve been doing to the things I’ve leaned this week and then overview what I’m going to change about how I use instagram. But, before we do, let’s backtrack a little bit and quickly go over the things I’ve leaned this week: the basic stages of instagram and what you should be doing in each one.

Starting

Establishing

Growing and maintaining

Starting.

It’s exactly what it sounds like. You’re new to instagram and photography and you should be taking photos of everything and posting a little of everything until you find something you like.

Hashtags ## are another things you should be looking at in this stage: What tags work for you and different subject matter (e.g., nature, street, birds, food, etc.). I’m not going to get into hashtags in this because from what I know and have learned, Instagram’s algorithm seems to change every four months, making tagging information dated quite quickly. The only thing I will say is that you should split your tags between General and Specific tags. Basically, General tags are tags that have a hit count of over one million and Specific tags have a hit count of under one million.

Yes, there is a lot more to hashtags than just this, but to be honest, I’m still learning them myself. Sometimes they work, sometimes they don’t. The results vary and it can all be confusing. (If you want to read about my experience with tagging photos, let me know and I’ll make another post about it).

Establishing.

When you should start to establish yourself is up to you. I’ve been doing this for two years now and I think I’m just starting this phase. There are a few things professionals recommend to start doing during this time:

Make a posting schedule. This is the time and day you consistently post content (e.g., Monday at 10 a.m. and Thursday at 9 p.m.)

Theme and Style. This is the subject matter you post and how you colour grade it (e.g., Birds, nature, city streets, food etc.)

Branding. What do you do? What are you selling? Show your followers why they should be following you and why they should use your service.

Only post your best images. I think this one is a bit vague and kind of overused. If you’re selling yourself, you should always put your best foot forward. But keep it to what you’re selling! Your posts should relate to what you do. Anything else like personal posts should be put in your story and later in a highlight.

Engage with your audience. Before you post, let your audience know that you’re active and again after you post so when they comment and ask questions on your latest post, you’re right there to answer them.

Before and After shots & Behind the Scenes. This one isn’t for everyone, but if you do a lot of Photoshop work, you may want to have the finished image in front and then a swipe to see the raw/unedited file(s). Same with studio shots; consider a phone snap to show what your set up is like.

Be personal. If you’re trying to sell yourself, the client wants to know what kind of person they are hiring. So post some personal stuff to your Instagram stories. E.g., You with clients, social life, and pets. But don’t overdo it. Most people don’t want to go though fifty story photos of your life just to find today’s art post

Growing and Maintaining

What’s working and not working for you? If you are consistently posting twice a week and you’re finding that one day is not getting as much reach as the other day, then try changing it up. Instagram has a bunch of analytic tools for business and creative accounts including Audience View so you see what day your followers are most active and at what time (this does change all the time, so take it for what you will).

Trends & Mass Media. Giving the people what they want doesn’t mean you should be catering everything to your audience. Well, I mean yes, you should be, but you should also be posting what you like. If there’s a big news story or something is trending, try to post something that relates to it (e.g., sports, if your home team is doing well then post something about them)

Are you happy with what you're doing? If you answer yes, then continue to. If no, then you should take some time and reflect on what kind of content you are posting, and why you started taking photos and posting them to Instagram in the first place. If the answer is that you are unhappy because your following is small and you believe you are doing everything you can to increase it, then unfortunately this might be as big as your following gets. If you’re not happy with this, then you should once again reflect on why you started this journey in the first place. To express your self, promote your business, or just to get followers.

Now that I’ve summarized what I’ve learned form this week let’s compare it to what I actually do.

I consider myself to be in the establishing phase right now, but from the looks of it, I may still be a starter.

Schedule for posting. Not really. Right now I’m experimenting with sets of three posts that go along with my most recent YouTube video, but my following is also under 200 people right now so I’m not sure this is super important to me

Theme and Style. This is hard for me and why I’m considering making a second account. I don’t want to limit myself to just posting one thing and keeping a consistent style seams hard for someone that one day will shoot the city and shoot nature the next, and I know what you’re going to say “just colour grade it the same.” Again, personal problem: I like dark moody city posts and bright colourful nature posts and now I’m playing around with product photography and a lot of those are solid background colours (mostly white or black).

Only Your Best (Or the “bangers” if you’re hip on Instagram lingo). This is probably one I can start following more. Recently, I do feel like I have been posting only a few good photos out of the sets (remember I’m experimenting with sets of 3, and often with multiple images per post) so I could either make fewer posts with more images or at least make sure there is a great image in front of the other ones.

Before and After. This is something I’ve played around with in both posts and stories. Swipe to see before and again to see half edited and half raw, as well as trying a tap to edit for story highlights

Be personal. This is not something I’ve done very well, partly because my phone plan doesn’t have data so I can’t just post while I’m out and about taking photos and also because my day job is working on theatre and film props, which is not photography related at all and also full of NDAs (Non-Disclosure Agreements). I also have another account for this kind of stuff, so if anyone is really interested they can follow that.

I’m not even going to go into growing and maintaining because I don’t think I’m there yet. The only thing I can do right now is tailer some posts to the masses.

So what am I going to be doing? I still want to shoot everything because I like creating and I don’t want to limit myself to just one or two things. I will pick two days that I will post to my feed and if I want to share photos that I like but don’t have a place in my feed at that moment, they will just go in a story and maybe a highlight.

I’m also going to start keeping a consistent colour theme. It’s summer right now, so orange and yellow would be the proper colour to use.

I’m going to try this for four to six months and see what happens and after that, I may start a second account just for nature photos and the only reason I’m not starting one right now is because I feel like if I do, all I would be doing is mass postings or bombarding feeds with random quality posts since I don’t feel like I take enough great photos to be consistent. I’m also not travelling and you can only post so many photos of the same species of birds that live in your city, the few green spaces surrounded by tall buildings, or of the same local beaches.

Anyways if you made it this far thank you so much. You are awesome.

If you want to check out my work links below.

INSTAGRAM YOUTUBE

#photography #nature #macro #nature photography #macro photography #macrophotography #funguy photography #amature photography #toronto #digital photography #photo blog #photography blog #instagram #instagram help #post about instagram #hashtag game #grow your instagram #instagram growth #my experience #my thoughts #blog post

[smitten--kitten]

Mafia!Seunghyub AU

Your alarm blaring you wake up disgruntled. Annoyed and close to rolling back over for a snooze before realizing you were close to being behind schedule. The covers being thrown off and you quickly heading to the shower to wake yourself up as quickly as possible. You really shouldn’t have gone out last night, but it really wasn’t something you do often. And it was a bachelorette party, so could anyone really blame you? If you asked, they would probably say no. But with you scurrying you grab a coffee and a bagel walking the last couple blocks until you got to work. With your show slipping off from random people bumping you and stepping on your heels you had it slip off. Bagel in your mouth and coffee set on the ground you bend down to fix your shoe. Jumping slightly when the loud bang of the door across the street was slammed out. You could hear an argument but the words certainly were not clear. Someone throws a man out the door and walking off the other direction. The other man turning towards the door again and seeing your face. Looking for a few seconds before he went back in, the door locking behind him. Your mind clearing again you pick up your coffee and get back to all the errands and tasks you needed to do for the day.

You life continuing as usual. Your friend sending the photos taken at the wedding. Sighing, you realized how beautiful it was. And it really was something you would have loved to have gone to, but you didn’t have the money to attend a destination wedding. Your alarm ticking you realized it was break time. Grabbing your packed lunch you looked out the window. Luckily unlike yesterday, the weather seemed to be clear. But your attention was soon elsewhere. The little Italian place across the street had a party it seems. People coming out the street wasn’t as quiet. A man walking out holding the door very into the conversation he was having. His face turning towards the street. The two of the men waiting for their driver, you recognize him. The handsome what you now assume was a guard of sorts. Or maybe a bouncer. You couldn’t be sure. but at least he shouldn’t be able to catch you staring, right? You focus on your lunch you don’t notice his eyes shift. Taking in your face before recognizing you himself. You look back up; you see the two men getting into their car. Oddly, you felt disappointed.

Working with taxes and accounting you had to go out often. But it was good to not be stuck behind a desk all the time. But after time passed you realized you cannot talk people out of anything if they actually want to do it. Today’s adventure was collecting the files to help a driving company and their profits correctly file their papers. Waiting in a small room for someone to bring the papers to you, you heard the voices of people in the hallway. One laughing and one just casual. Though it was definitely deeper than the others. “I have the boxes of papers and receipts. I can carry it to the car for you if you’d like.” You look up and see a guy next to two..two trolleys of boxes? Shit. Shaking your head you realize you needed to respond “Oh yes. Um, follow me to my car. I can push one if you want?” “That is all right. Boss said it should be me” “A-All right this way” Stepping to the side of the elevator you ride back down into the garage and make sure he can see the way. He’s quiet though. His mask and glasses hiding his face. Though this surely would be faster if he allowed you to help. The sound of the back door and trunk closing you realized he had finished. Strong and productive? That is something your office needs. If only.

Deciding to take the files home instead. Luckily you had a work laptop and with you having use of an elevator at home you had to go there instead. No way you would carry 10 boxes upstairs from the garage into your office and back. No, sir. Getting your wheeled computer chair you wheeled a few boxes in at a time. Too tired to even begin going through it all. Settling into bed you were going to get up early instead. Sure you would have a clearer mind and better focus, anyway. Not even bothering to change you kicked off your pants and flopped onto the bed. The morning coming sooner than one would think for someone who got a solid 8 hours for once. The smell of the automatic coffee maker waking you. Dragging your feet you make it into the kitchen and see the boxes near the couch. So you needed to do that much work, huh? At least your boss wouldn’t rush. But it makes sense why you were sent. Finishing your coffee you settle onto the couch pulling out files from one of the boxes. Some people really made things harder than they had to be. Things are so much easier when you don’t have to look at every paper. But older people don’t like it automated, old habits really do die hard.

Papers, and papers and more papers. If you didn’t know better, you would think someone would slip more in overnight to drive you insane. But luckily the old man was organized. Able to knock it out in less than a month was impressive. But it certainly wasn’t something you would want to go through again. New clients were nice when they came with good money. Able to get a little more than the standard bonus was nice when more work went in. But you rarely got personal checks as an apology from the business itself. But $10,000 was a lot. I mean, the company did lots of business including events, travel amongst other things. And you had seen their profits and expenses but wow. It was a new man who took the boxes back in to destroy. Some people really were the paranoid types when it came to personal information but you would not fault them for that. Not realizing it wasn’t the same man as last time until you got to your car. At least you hadn’t commented on it, you saved yourself from embarrassment for one, and you didn’t even intend to.

Life continues as usual in the office again. Unfortunately, you seemed to be stuck behind the desk for a few weeks now. Looking out the window when hearing aloud honk you saw him again, holding open the door of the car and walking into the Italian restaurant again. Even in a winter coat, one could see how toned he was. Not noticing that he again had seen you. Eyes on you through the window next to their booth. Your boss giving you files for another new client. Though this time they made it easier with it being digital. Staying late you were able to finish the client. Your eyes finally noticing the time. 4 a.m.? You really need to learn not to do things this way anymore. Heading towards your car you see him again. But he’s alone this time. He’s on the phone, and this time you heard him talk. He had been the one to help you initially. That voice wasn’t something you’d forget. Even if you aren’t sure what was lost, he seems angry about. His eyes on you as he abruptly ends his phone call. Eyes watching for a moment before he walks off. What could have happened? Geez. But that voice truly suited his face.

Deciding to go to the place across the street was new, but you had never been. Though you couldn’t think of why. It had regular business and traffic so it couldn’t be bad. Knowing you’d go next week when you got off early for a long weekend. Living your life as normal you didn’t really notice the subtle things you should have picked up on. Like how your boss seemed to give you all the large-scale clients. Or how there was a lot of gang activity in the city. Though, everyone seemed unaware. The news screen glaring with the bold bar. How there had been an accident and a shooting. Most seemed to think the first incident was guilt after the man committed the shooting but the news had something else that changed people's minds. There had been a stabbing. But it wasn’t a robbery. And it truly was overkill. What got to you the most was it was the garage of the cab company. How lucky are you, that you finished a week early and weren’t there? But with your mind on that, you had some trouble sleeping. It is probably why you agreed to go on that blind date that your friend mentioned. Though, it was worse there than the theory even was. He wasn’t even wearing his shoes. Who takes on their shoes while out at a nice French restaurant? Man, you and your friend must have lost touch a lot since she went backpacking last year. Why would she ever think THIS would be someone you would be interested in? Luckily enough your phone gave you a message notification. And even if it was a simple reminder to grab eggs at the store on the way home, you would have been a fool to not use that to get away.

You may take the cake for the dumbest of them all. Your boss, of all people, setting you up on a date. Sure, he was a sweet old guy, but you should have said no. Especially with yesterday fresh in your mind. But you didn’t have the heart to say no, for whatever reason. But that was only now coming to you. Five hours later as you lay staring at the ceiling on your back in bed. Still unable to sleep. Maybe this one will at least be polite enough to keep his shoes on. And your boss said it would be at the place across the street. At least you had another reason to go there at least. With your boss giving you the day off instead of an early day, you realized you would just go there instead. 10 a.m. seemed like an early date but an off day with pay? You would take that for sure. The man sitting at the booth across the room said your name. A sweet smile on his face, just how young was he? He seemed sweet enough, but he sure was talkative. He had already ordered for you. There seemed to be a little of everything, and you would have said something had he not beat you to it. “So, you may not exactly be here for a date, it is to help file and input or expenses. I know you aren’t exactly a secretary but you specialize in this. And your boss said your name specifically when we mentioned what we needed help with. And in case you wanted to know, it’s not for me... it’s for my bro...well, not really my bro..I...I’ll go get the files, do, should I actually just get a guy to bring them over to your place directly? There is...a lot of boxes..” Just how many is a lot? Is what you would have asked if you weren’t an idiot. But here you are, in your living room with 30 boxes. How...how many years of filing is this even for?

This would take months. Separating by category, the month amongst other things was the fun part. Fun. Man, you really need to get out more. Sending updates was something you felt was necessary. Sending for every three months you were able to finish. And the months going by again. And wow, this business also had big bucks. franchises in different cities, some cater only, wow, that total has a LOT of zeros. With the truck coming to take their papers to shred the files themselves you concluded that the next company will be the company that does the disposal that all these companies likely use.

Some people have a way of making things harder than they needed to be. Some just can’t listen nor do what they said they would do. But sometimes things were also messy. Like now, another runaway that owed us $50K was dumb enough to come back here and out of hiding, people will pay their debts, even if it’s with their life. To think he was dumb enough after all this time to think we wouldn’t shoot. Blood really does get everywhere. With the sun down long ago it seems at least one thing in my favor tonight. Putting the trunk back down I started the drive back to the restaurant. Entering through the side entrance and slipping into our spares. Finally presentable again I went into the restaurant for the meeting with the boss. At least he’s been more lenient and lets me handle things in ways I want now. But man, it really was a long day. Grabbing some of the leftovers I headed home knowing it’d continue on tomorrow. 

Unfortunately, when you have big clients them going missing brings attention than I would prefer to be avoided. There is a reason I am in the back of everything. Though today, I got a very interesting assignment. Keep an eye on the big boss’ employee. She seems so, clean on paper. Even when we do our documents, we don’t have this. Why he could need surveillance on her, I guess I will find out..but wait..I’ve seen her before. She heard me on the phone with Hweseung after he ended up losing the envelope of passports we got after the final deal with buying the rest of the properties. Politicians are too easy, ‘Can’t be bought’ my ass. 

Knowing her schedule is honestly, sad. All prior clients have known about scandals and of weird activities that warranted following. But this is the most, plain thing I’ve seen. It’s also kind of, nice. In this line of work, you forget there are just average non-dirty and average people anymore. Gets to work at work by 9 but usually is a little early. That is what I knew first. She orders the BLT every time that she goes to that food truck but takes the tomato off after a bite, but never gets without. Likes her coffee with just cream but eats it with a cinnamon roll on Fridays. She always looks at the pets in the window of the pet shop even when on the other side of the street. She smiles when she takes the first bite of, pasta? Who makes their own lunch this much? But even from here I can tell it tastes nice. If only I could have a home-cooked meal, geez, when is the last time I even had one of those? Luckily. I don’t have to watch while she’s at work anymore. New cameras installed so just weekends and after. 

The weekend coming soon I knew I needed to have Jaehyun cover my shift, so I decided to text now, with a little time to kill. But with Jaehyun distracting me with a story about drunk Hun I didn’t notice the time. And she was now walking this way, towards the small bakery for a nice snack before heading home. She usually looks to the window of puppies which, I am standing in front of, ‘way to go unnoticed Seunghyub you dumbass’.  She gave me a soft smile, and I gave her a small wave. Maybe the fact she is attracted to me would make this less of a fail, right?

Maybe you should just pick up and move. Usually one would like the ease of day-to-day life, yet it makes everything seem too plain. With your boss adding about 8 files he needed you to finish tonight apparently, you were definitely annoyed. Luckily, there was a pizza place just down the road so at least you would have dinner. Unaware of the eyes watching you. Cameras throughout the entire building Seunghyub made sure to watch all your movements. The boss wanted to get help on some of the most secret files and needed to know for sure that they would trust you not to ask questions when you were to be given the documents, even if they had been altered to hide the true reasons of profit. Seunghyub watching you whine as you dropped the piece of pizza upside down on the floor. Your mind exhausted, but the boss needed to do some quick business nearby and needed to be sure you wouldn’t stumble upon it.

Seunghyub looking away after someone told him the coast was clear and hoped you could go home soon. You decide to call in for one of your days off that you never took you went on a nice stroll. Passing by a small gym you saw him again. He was training. You didn’t need to know much about boxing to know he had a nice form. Seeing him shirtless for once you realized just how fit he was. Just what does he do for a living. Shaking your head you start back on your way towards a small bistro, unaware of Seunghyub’s eyes following you. Seeing you walk towards a small street he knew where you were headed. Seunghyub turning towards a few people for a quick conversation before redressing. Making his way towards you, Your food is being brought towards you when you hear the chime of the door opening. You see him walk in, walking past you to the counter ordering a small muffin and coffee before he steps to the side. Back against the counter, he checks his phone before looking around, before his face settles on you, and he gives you another smile.

Today really was your lucky day, wasn’t it? Your favorite seat was open, you had the day off and then this. Smiling shyly back you started to eat your sandwich trying not to embarrass yourself on the spot. Seunghyub thanking the lady for the coffee before grabbing his order and heading towards the door, before he stops, and turns back. Walking towards you he stands on the other side of the table, eyes on you. He speaks slowly when asking. “May I sit with you?”. Perhaps he doesn’t want to eat alone, but it felt like he wanted to sit with you specifically. But that’d be crazy right? It wasn’t like he knew you. There aren’t too many words between the two of you. But he laughed when you mentioned having a hard ass of a boss. Perhaps you should ask him for his number. But before you can he is standing up. Bidding a soft farewell. You could only hope you would see him again soon so that maybe next time you could ask.

With your boss piling more and more work on you, you had to think he had it out for you. Why else would he make you need to have a final report within the week? But if only you knew who he really was. Your phone giving you an alert you saw something you had almost forgotten about. There was another murder, the news assuming it was a hit. They had found a car in the nearby lake. Someone had driven the man into the lake while tied to the seat. The body had been dead at least a year. The man was a local, but it seems no one had reported him missing, man. What a scary thought. Would anyone notice you were gone or care enough to report it? You definitely hoped so. The little camera in the corner still watching you. You staying at work through the night. Oddly uncomfortable with the news, even though it happened quite a while ago, and the likelihood that the guy was still around or would have any reason to harm you is slim to none.

Oddly enough, you felt safer alone at work, even though there is that sketchy alleyway around back than at home. It felt like you had more protection and potential saviors. Not aware of your own surrounding even you were working through the night. The buzz of the door you looked at the camera and recognized the pizza box. Had you even ordered pizza? Walking to the door you opened it and went to hand the man his money before he informed you that it had already been paid for. Extra cheese, a side of wings, this definitely was something you have ordered before but you knew this wasn’t right. Maybe it was a glitch in their system where it resent when you set your alarm for a break. You definitely would never assume it would have been him. And if he could help it he’d make sure you never did.

Heading home after you noticed the sun had come through the window, you grabbed the leftover pizza box and the wings and headed home. Sleeping in the majority of the day you chose to be lazy. Grabbing a few slices of the cold leftovers you sat on the couch, still in pajamas deciding you could binge some Bob’s Burgers. If you ever truly had a normal schedule, you would try to recreate some of them, but it didn’t seem like that would ever happen. You in your own world you would never notice the sleek black car at the end on the street. The camera snapping pictures of you through the window. The camera no longer capturing you as the needed images were taken already. The car backing up and driving away slowly, you blissfully unaware of its existence.

You would think in this line of work you couldn’t really be surprised anymore, and that you would have ‘seen it all’. Yet hearing the plans for Saturday I have to say there is a first time for everything. Not only is it a day’s notice for a party, but a themed, 20s Mafia party. If I didn’t know him so well, I would think he was pulling my leg. Getting the right cars in order for the big boss coming from out of town, making sure that the menu at the restaurant was set, among everything else.

Jaehyun laughing and annoying Hun let me know at least some things weren’t changing this week. When was the last time the boss was even here? It had to be a year after we had to deal with a higher up trying to steal files. I wonder if he is coming back with the body being pulled out, but it didn’t seem like this was a high priority meeting. Settling on being a driver, mostly to be able to have at least some peace and quiet. Plus, I can avoid people talking and drinking and being loud as long as possible. Even though it wasn’t said it was mandatory, his tone implied it would be better if I actually was there. Plus, according to Jaehyun, she would be there. After all this time he could still apparently see my emotions written on my face. But it seems to be a new thing. Since when was I into the good girls. It isn’t possible to have a good girl in this environment. The ding of a timer going off I knew I needed to head out. Driving the car around back I stayed in silence. The ride to the pickup was a little way out, but it really was what I needed right now. How can I be excited to see her and hope she doesn’t show at the same time? Shaking thoughts of her from my head I pulled up to the hangar. Stepping out and walking to the side of the car, opening the door and taking the bags to the back. 

The drive back isn’t as quiet as they held a conversation, yet it could tune it out as I tried to compose myself. Maybe Jaehyun was wrong and this nervousness would be all for naught. Pulling into the garage, I park quickly before opening the door for him again. Walking into the restaurant I end up being pulled into multiple conversations I almost forgot about the nerves that were on edge when I arrived. While going through the room I tried to look around to find her. Eyes searching until they found her. A plate stacked full of shrimp and mashed potatoes in her hand. It really was something to behold. The other girls in the room sitting to the side. Nothing but wine, or a salad. But using shrimp instead of utensils to scoop the mashed potatoes and gravy truly showed she wasn’t the one to be at these parties. Gently nudging Hun’s arm I exited the conversation I walked towards the bar, for a little liquid courage before finally talking to her.

Damn it Jaehyun I’ve been on edge all day knowing this next time let me go in blind. Maybe I will get another. or two. Standing and leaving the stool I turn to go to look for her again, only to bump into someone. With my luck, it just had to be her. Not really sure what to say I just stand there like an idiot. Wow, that shirt is very sheer. Black bra under too, huh? Very daring. “I didn’t mean to bump into you sorry I wasn’t really paying attention”. Wow, she is prettier up close, and she’s smiling. Glancing down, I realize she has a fresh plate of food again. I certainly do love when a girl can eat. She seems to notice me staring and holds the plate out to me. “Here I’ll get another. I get it. Drunk food is nice” She places the plate into my hand before heading to the table to get another plate. I turn to the bar again and sit back down, ordering another drink. Maybe something stronger would take the edge off, a double shot of scotch should help.. The seat next to me is taken, she’s really not going to let me get her off my mind, is she? The bartender getting us both drinks, beer isn’t what I was expecting someone like her to order, but it was nice to see someone so....casual even in this setting. Where or conversation even started, I am not sure. But I do know that there have many rounds of drinks. I do know that most have filed out. She is laughing at things I am saying and this truly is an amazing feeling. No business at all. I don’t even remember when life wasn’t business. She thinks I am funny. Take that Hweseung.

Leaning towards me she’s whispering about how she liked me in the gym. Hand running up and down my arm. How can I be this sensitive, damn it Seunghyub it’s like puberty all over again. Snap out of it. She’s gotten off the stool and held out her hand. I would be a fool to deny her. Taking her to her own home, I did try my best the whole walk there that it would not end in anything but a good night. But with her hands slipping to pull me towards her by my belt I knew that I too could not resist her. Following her lead to her room, our clothes were being kicked out in the process. Shoes, pants, bra leaving a trail that would leave nothing to the imagination. “Take it off” Oh, man, she truly is beautiful, kicking off my boxer I try to kneel on her bed, missing and falling to the floor. Her laugh somehow making it not seem embarrassing. Climbing onto the bed I made sure to tell her. Tell her how I had heard from Jaehyun that she would be there, how I thought she was so so beautiful. How much I loved that laugh. Her hands pulling my face towards her’s into a kiss. Her hands gripping me firmly. I didn’t even notice her move her hand. Shit. How does this feel so good? She’s pulled away and given me a look I’ve never seen before. Is...is she taunting me? Returning the favor I made sure to let the rings do something I knew would drive her crazy. But I honestly needed this as much as she did. Adjusting the position again I skip the teasing, for both our sakes and get straight to it. Sliding it slowly I try to keep pace. But I’m slipping out and honestly, just the sounds she is making was making it hard to even last. Her leg locking over my hip to pull me into her firmly as she finishes. Nails deep into my shoulders. Finishing with her I realize I really can’t leave. I couldn’t move if I wanted to. I hope she doesn’t regret this in the morning.

Waking up you notice that your arm is sore. Only to then notice the man asleep on top of you. His face buried in your neck and arm draped across you, you were able to see why your arm hurt. Sliding quietly out from under him, you push his hair from his face and are able to recognize him. Slipping towards your bathroom to take a shower you are happy to be alone and think of what unfolded. You remembered talking to him and using your hands to eat..oh man, he totally saw that. Talking about how handsome he was and how amazing he looked shirtless. How after all that was he not considering you a creep was your thought. The small moments coming back too, like him tripping when taking off his pants, and how deep his voice was when he was telling you to hold on to him tighter, even remembering a good night. How long you had taken you couldn’t exactly be sure, but the water had gone cold, so it had been a while.

Walking out from the bathroom in a robe and drying your hair with a towel you notice he was gone. You didn’t really expect him to stay, but it really is a shame he didn’t. Getting ready for work you head in and just try not to think about it. Immersing yourself in your work to avoid questions your mind may ask, you zoned out. Not really focusing on anything. Being snapped back into reality with a knock on the door of your office. Your coworker walking in with takeout from the restaurant from across the street and a bouquet of roses. I know I didn’t say goodbye, but you were in the shower a while. Be sure to eat this and have a nutritious lunch okay? - Seunghyub. Smiling lightly to yourself you can’t help but snort a little. More memories of last night coming back, like him saying how his friends call him J.Don. But how he had asked you not to call him anything but Seunghyub in bed. Maybe you should have asked why he had the name he did with his friends. But for now, all you knew was that you felt you’d see him again.

With you actually being sure to leave on time today you turned the corner and bumped into someone. Seunghyub apologizing before taking notice that you hadn't eaten much of the lunch, seeing how he had knocked the container from your hands to the floor. Taking your hand in his he walked you down the block to a small diner. Telling you to order food. His eyes soft but he was deadly serious. Ordering an omelet and a bowl of fruit. Usually, you would get pancakes or fries, but with his note of “nutritious”, you felt this would be a better route with him. His order of just eggs and toast and black coffee did not surprise you. Even now, with his button-down shirt and jacket, he was still simple. It was as if he knew everything he liked and what worked for him. Your eyes going to his shoulders. Wondering just how they held up from last night. If your hips showed you anything he was definitely marked up as well. Blushing, you hid your face as much as you could behind your own cup of coffee. His voice not helping when he talks. Even if it wasn’t as deep as it was in the moment last night it truly was a sound that could make you melt. His eyes lighting up as he watched from the side of his eyes. Looking out the window. As if he knew how much he was messing with you.

Your eyes looking at his face again, not knowing what you are doing before it happens. Your words surprising yourself as much as they did him. Asking him to be your boyfriend. Did you really just go there? Why isn’t he saying anything? If only a hole could open up and swallow you on the- “Is that not what this is?” Wait, was he saying what it seems like he was saying? “I am not the hookup type and I really enjoyed talking to you. Plus, you’ve been praised a lot by the boss and I have to say I can see why” Oh wow, he was. With soft smiles and even numbers exchanged you went home happy. In a daze as you walked to your bed and fell onto your back looking at the ceiling before putting the pillow over your face looking forward to whatever would happen with him in the future.

As luck would have it, I got sent away for meetings and shipping. Why did it have to be as soon as I had something good happening? Well, at least we have a routine of sorts. We started sending short videos to one another recently, and I don’t think I can ever get over the first soft sleepy video she sent me before she went to sleep. Telling me how much she missed me. Her hair a mess, but her eyes, man her eyes. I am so lucky she couldn’t see how soft I have gone for her yet. Maybe I can get her to video call, or Skype me this weekend while I am away. Knowing her schedule and that she would sleep in I sent Chinese takeout to her house. Knowing she got it and wasn’t upset by the selfie of her cheeks full. Maybe when I get back, I can convince her to get a kitten from the pet store or ask her to move in with me. Is it too soon for that? Maybe just giving her a key would be good for now.

The first week going by fast and as luck would have it even with different schedules and a time difference while I was away we could chat tonight. I didn’t expect her to ask what I was wearing, and at the moment I didn’t realize her intentions. But now, which, of course, is after our chat has long ended I know what she was suggesting. Maybe she would take better to the key. This next week had better go by fast. The next day was, intense. With Jaehyun starting his training, we went to the range, and he had lots of target practice. Even though he was not someone we wanted in the field, as he was more a face and manager type we could always do good to have another ‘just in case’. Hweseung surprising even me with how well he takes to everything. And how gentle he can be despite everything. The trip taking longer than expected as Jaehyun was still pretty awkward and reluctant with everything I could finally go home.

Sure to get a key made and some assorted flowers in a bouquet and a hunter green rabbit’s foot key chain with the key to my place. Heading to your house around noon. Knocking on your door I took a step back rocking on my heels, the nerves not settling, would she say no? The door opening she smiled at me and let me in quickly. I was standing there still holding the flowers like an idiot. Holding them out to her she took them, sure to make me almost regret this “I never thought you would be the soft and sappy type, J.Don.” Her smirk making me almost scowl, yet I stayed here “I can take them back then, and I told you when we are alone call me Seunghyub” “I never said I didn’t like them, Seungyub, I’ll put them in some water.” My hands slipping into my pocket I pull out the key and twirl the keychain in my fingers. In my own little world, I don’t notice her walk back into the room. “Whatcha got there?” Startled I drop the key onto the floor. Bending down to pick it up before holding it out in my hand towards her. “I, for you? To move in, or to have I, you don’t have to I just thought that you may want to, maybe” “I guess it all depends, are you asking?” A playful glint in her eyes told me that I was right, I truly am whipped for her. Her hand coming and taking it from me smiling and even though I could tell she was going to talk my mouth opened anyway “We should get a cat!”. Her laughter filling the room, I can feel my ears and face turning red “Next thing you will ask to have a baby, huh” Stumbling over what never turned into words I turn away from her, her hand touching my shoulder her soft voice, calming me “Okay. But let me move in before we get one okay?” Yes. That was definitely okay.

You may have been more accustomed to living with him had there been any routine or regimen with his schedule. But you live for the moments where things work out like this. Your schedules matching up and off days with you waking up before him and seeing just how sweet he looks when he does. Your hands tracing lightly on his chest. The fact he sleeps shirtless is truly a blessing. You in your own world hands going lower, and lower not noticing him looking at you. His movements are quick as he rolled you over. Hand catching your wrist between your bodies. His eyes looking over your face and he smirks. Knowing just how equal your desperation for him is. Kiss your neck he shifts his knee between your legs to spread them just a bit more. Nibbling on your collarbone as his hand drops your wrist, pulling himself from his boxers as he shifts forward. Slowly pushing his hips forward until he sinks in fully. Your hands on his shoulders he pushes himself up. Pace starting to pick up, as well as his force. More erratic than normal. Perhaps he really was desperate and needy. But these sounds. His moans and heavy breathing, and the sounds of the actual action filling the room, in addition to the smell of it, you realized how desperate and how much you had missed him. All around you right now was him. All of your senses overwhelmed by him and only him at this moment. His hand sliding between you again to add just a bit more intensity by playing with your clit. The low groan and bite on your shoulder were almost unnoticed as you felt, everything. Maybe you should have said something early, but the feeling was warmer than anything else. 

Rolling onto his back his hand slides down to intertwine his fingers with yours. His chest rising and breath heavy. A soft hum escaping him before a single deep laugh, deep in his chest. His thumb rubbing the back of your hand you knew he was as overwhelmed as you were, and you honestly never hoped for him to skip work as much as you did at this moment. Seunghyub rolling onto his side to give you a kiss before slipping out of the bed and towards the bathroom. The sound of the water running under normal circumstances would have lulled you to sleep, but with the ability to finally see him for a whole day kept you from doing so. Had your mind not run and have weird zoning out bouts you likely would have joined him, but with the sound of the bathroom door opening you realized how much time had passed.  Rolling onto your side you watch him. His chest on full display as he had a towel over his head, and another around his waist. Eyes catching yours in the mirror above the dresser and he smirked. “Don’t worry baby, I will hurry and rejoin you soon enough. Unless you want breakfast instead?”. Breakfast really sounded good. Sliding out of bed and towards him, you kissed his neck before heading to the kitchen. A soft breathy laugh escaping him when you did. You just getting two ingredients from the fridge to make an omelet as he made his way into the kitchen with you. His hands reaching around your waist to pull you back towards him his head falling into your neck “What can I do to help?”. Pointing at the apron you didn’t need to say much more. His hands reaching for it as you grabbed another cutting board, and placed an onion and pepper on it, as you continued to wash the spinach and mushrooms. The two of you peacefully working in silence, only a small nudge of his elbow as he grabbed some eggs and scrambled them, as you started to saute the veggies. The nice sweet day off was nice. The two of you cuddling on the couch and binging Netflix, eating way too much popcorn but it was definitely worth it. Though around 6 his phone kept going off, and you knew he needed to head into work. You can’t really be mad at him, you know it wasn’t something he wanted to do. But deciding to do laundry, upon switching over the loads you heard the printer doing off.   

Walking into the office after folding and putting away the laundry you certainly could never have prepared for what you saw, you had seen that name before. Why would your boss be paying off the family, unless he had something to do with it? And why would that info be sent to Seunghyub? With your mind drawing to the only logical conclusion you were glad that he would come back late hours, likely well into the morning. Settling into bed your mind could not focus. Staring at the ceiling and rolling onto your side to get more comfortable. There really was no way to truly know when you fell asleep, but when you woke up Seunghyub was back and asleep next to you, facing away. Sitting up you looked at him you weren’t really sure how to feel. With all the amazing nights you’ve had. How out of his way he’d go to bring you lunch or stay up to see you get home. Could he really be someone to do such a thing? Leaving early for work to be able to avoid seeing him and think things through in your office without him possibly noticing something was up with you. Not really second-guessing yourself and you opened a file you didn’t expect you finished and sent it through. Your mind not really thinking about it again, until a few days later that is. 

Your boss called you into his office. It was then that you remembered what you had done. Was he going to try to make you feel bad about handing in your resignation? Likely. But you just hoped that he would not tell Seunghyub. Sitting down in front of his desk he continued to just look at you, not saying anything for what felt like a long time. “I will assume you know. Would that be a correct assumption?” Eyes wide and no words able to form from you he just sighs. “I am not going to kill you, but I would like to say something. With it being this abrupt I assume you said nothing to him? I want you to do two things for me. The first is to think back to the party. I want you to think of how many people were there.”  His pause made your mind do just that. And now that you truly did there was maybe 50 or so. Though before you could say anything he spoke again. “I want you to go see Seunghyub. I am sure you know now how small the operation we have is. There isn’t really an opportunity to meet people in our line of work, and he is already stuck to you like a magnet. So if you do plan to leave, I want to at least see him before you do. Just, I’ll let you off early just go to this address okay?” Walking back to your office you sat in your chair. Contemplating whether you should or not, before opting to do as such. You driving slowly to the address he gave you. Though it took longer to walk in than you thought you would take. Your feet finally giving you trouble, you walk in. Not seeing many people, but hearing what had to be a conference ending. Stepping into a hallway you hope they walk past quickly so you can find Seunghyub and leave. But just as you turn a corner, you hear his name. Though most of the worst you can’t hear you do know that some are clear enough to know what they said. You deserve it. Promotion. Good job?  Shaking you head still unsure you really want to know, you peak into the room and see him. Somehow he looks just like and not like himself at once. His head turned and noticing you walk in the room. Somehow even with the stoic look on his face, his eyes flashed a flurry of emotions. Your feet taking you to him, you are just looking at him. No words are said between the two of you now, though you both somehow know. You will both go home, but you will have a lot to talk about.

#nflying #n.flying #n flying #imagine #imagines #scenario #scenarios #reactions #reaction #seunghyub #au #mafia #gang #kittenline #credit to original owners #smut #nflying imagine #nflying scenario #nflying reaction #n.flying imagine #n.flying smut #nflying scenarios #nflying smut #n.flying reaction

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The Gary Gygax Job (An Adventure in Two Parts)

I was asked to post my “Hardison forces the gang to play D&D fic” that I wrote for @alexromero​ so here it is. It’s actually just the set up and not the game itself because that would have been a whole undertaking but, anyway, I hope the anon who asked for it enjoys it.

Part One

BASE. Gyutou. Paris.

It's Parker's idea, surprisingly. Well, surprisingly to someone who knows Parker well but not very well. The team is breaking up, at least partially (though the kids have a secret pool running about how much wedded bliss Nate and Sophie can stand before they're ready to get back into the fight). She's not ready to lose two people from her very small inner circle.

"We should do, like, a girls' night," she suggests out of the blue, over the comms while crawling through air ducts (she has some of her best ideas in air ducts, which makes sense, statistically speaking).

"Girls' night?" says Hardison from the van. "You and what girls?"

"Me and Sophie. But also you and Nate and Eliot."

"Tha-that's just hanging out Parker. It's not a girl's night if there are guys."

She shrugs (tries to shrug. There's not enough space in the air duct). "Whatever. We should do it. I miss Sophie. And Nate," she adds, belatedly.

"Me too."

"Me three," Eliot finally cuts in. He's been providing an ambient background of grunts and things smashing into other things for the past minute or so, but that kind of thing is surprisingly easy to ignore after a while. "But can we do this AFTER THE CON???" They grudgingly decide to put a pin in it while Eliot runs his hand through his hair in annoyance. Honestly.

When they call the "Call us if you need us but please try very hard not to need us," number, they get Sophie, which is good. She'll be easier to convince and if they convince her, they've got Nate too. Parker explains her idea and Sophie is very into it: Group activity, once a month, full team.

Sophie's in so they're in business. Hardison puts all of their names into a randomizer and Parker ends up with first pick.

"Greece!" she says, immediately.

"Excellent choice, Parker!" says Sophie, picturing the food and beaches and museums. And then she remembers who she's speaking to.

"Parker, what are we doing in Greece?"

They find out two weeks later and Hardison thinks that it's a good thing he loves Parker to death, because he's pretty sure she's going to get him killed.

BASE Jumping on Zakynhos Island.

"Oh, come on!" Hardison whines as he's tossed a parachute. Sophie is also not thrilled, but she seems to think that encouraging Parker's social skills is worth 5-ish seconds of sheer terror.

The jump order is Eliot, Sophie, Nate (who is choosing to be amused by this whole thing), Hardison, then Parker. Hardison and Parker are the last two on the cliff.

"Come on you big baby," she says. "You've jumped off of buildings before."

"Not for fun."

She touches his chest very deliberately. "Then don't do it for fun. Do it for me."

He shakes his head and steels his nerves. "Sophie's rubbing off on you and I don't like it."

He is so happy to land in one piece that he immediately drops to his back and makes sand angels. From above, he can hear Parker's adrenaline-high scream. He opens his eyes, sees her parachute explode out, and then closes his eyes again. Maybe if he pretends to be asleep, she won't make him go again.

Somehow, Eliot's pick is worse.

He says they're going for a cooking lesson which sounds safe enough. The lesson is at a tiny sushi place in Brooklyn and the chef is some Japanese buddy of his. They're not allowed to know how they know each other specifically (Eliot says he's a "work friend") and they're not allowed to know his name, so they just call him Chef.

Everyone's having a good time and whatever work Chef did with Eliot before, cooking is obviously his calling.

And then…well, Hardison's not sure. It happens really quickly. The door bursts open and a man in dark clothes bursts in. There's a flash of silver from Chef's side of the room and the man drops. Hardison doesn't even have time to jump.

Chef isn't holding his knife anymore, Hardison notices. He looks across the room. It's implanted in the intruder's chest. A gun falls out of his hand and Nate kicks it away.

"What just happened?" says Hardison, trying to keep his voice level.

"It's a Gyutou," says Eliot. "Sharpest knife in the game."

"I'm not asking ab--why would you think I was asking about the knife?"

"Because the guy's Yakuza. Obviously."

"Wait, Yakuza? Like, Yakuza-Yakuza?"

"No, one of the many other Yakuzas out there. Yes, that Yakuza!" In the time it's taken them to have this conversation, Chef has dragged their attacker's limp body into a supply closet, found a clean knife, and gone back to chopping ginger.

Hardison has so many comments that he doesn't know where to start. He just throws up his hands and goes to stand in the corner for a minute. When he remembers that the corner he's in very recently had a dead body in it, he picks a new corner.

Sophie takes everyone for a weekend in Paris because of course she does.

Paris is great. No one tries to kill anyone in Paris. There's no jumping off of anything in Paris.

But…

But it's a little like being on a three-day date with your parents sometimes. And Hardison has been Team Nate and Sophie since day one basically. That doesn't mean he wants to know every museum in Paris they've done it in. Not that he's asking, for the record. But they'll walk in and give each other this kind of smug smirk and he can just tell. It's disgusting.

So, when Hardison's turn rolls around, he feels exactly zero guilt for choice.

"Dungeons and Dragons?" Eliot says with the kind of scorn he reserves for especially bad bad guys and Hardison.

"Oh, I don't wanna hear that tone from you, alright? I don't wanna hear it from any of y'all. Little miss adrenaline junkie over there," Parker blows him a kiss, "And your crazy Samurai friends," Eliot rolls his eyes, "And y'all two making googly eyes at each other for three solid days."

Nate takes a second from doing just that to say, "You're exaggerating."

"He's really not," says Parker.  

"BASE. Gyutou. Paris," Hardison rattles off again. "I did your thing now you're doing mine." He pulls a d20 out of his pocket and holds it between two fingers with a satisfied smirk. "Age of the geek, baby."

Part Two

Nate claims character creation is too complicated for him to understand which is a blatant lie because Hardison has seen him rig an election and manipulate the stock market on the fly and give a guy a nosebleed with his mind like he was freaking Professor X.

"This isn't my thing, Hardison," he says. "Just make a character for me. I don't care about the details. Do whatever you want."

Do whatever you want.

Famous last words.

Hardison makes him a dwarf barbarian character with an intelligence score so low he'll have trouble scratching himself.

Nate texts him a one-word response: No.

Well if you don't like my painstakingly created character you can make your own, Hardison texts back.

Just fix it.

Oh, he'll fix it alright. But first, he has to deal with Eliot.

He tries a different tactic with Eliot.

"Alright," he says when Eliot reluctantly drops in the chair across from him, looking like he's just been plunked into the heart of Gitmo. "You don't have to make a character. I premade one for you. Check it."

He fans out the materials he's printed out that show the character he created--premade for Eliot's approval. He's a human fighter, with a greatsword as his main weapon. He's proficient in several languages, weapons, tools--Hardison had to fudge the rules a little to give him so many skills at level one but it's nothing more ridiculous than what he can do in real life. He even had a sketch commissioned--he knows from experience that Eliot is a sucker for cool artwork of himself.

Eliot's eyes scan the sheets of paper and Hardison thinks he detects that trademark grudging approval he was going for.

"Did I do good or did I do good?"

Eliot looks up, scowls, and then something clearly goes off in his head because a slight smirk replaces the scowl. Hardison doesn't trust it but he doesn't react either.

"OK," says Eliot. "I'll play your character. One change though."

Just one? He can handle that. The way Eliot was looking at him he thought something much worse was coming.

"Sure, what?"

"I want to play as a pacifist."

Hardison's brain BSOD's and reboots in time to see Eliot's slight smirk go full Cheshire cat.

"What?"

"I'll play your guy in your little nerd game, but I want to play as a pacifist."

"You're telling me, you want to play this character, this fighter--a guy whose entire skillset is based on fighting--as a pacifist?"

"Yup."

Hardison scatters the papers in front of him as he thinks of all the high-level encounters he'd planned, counting on Eliot's super buffed fighter to keep the party alive, just like in real life.

"I don't get no respect around here."

While he's reworking the campaign, he gets a text from Nate re: the second premade character Hardison sent him--a sexy tiefling ranger. A sexy, female, tiefling ranger.

You're aware that I know where you live, right?, the text reads.

Not my fault you won't be specific. I'm working on pure guesswork here, Hardison texts back.

Fix it, Nates texts again. Then he adds, Don't forget I know how to hypnotize people.   

Hardison snorts: And I can hack your bank account and spend everything on My Little Ponies. Make your damn character Nate.

Sophie is confused.

"If there's no goal, how do you play?" she asks him over Skype.

He never got a chance to really explain how the game worked and clearly, she hasn't looked it up in the meantime.

"There's a goal. There's just not one singular goal. You usually get some kind of quest and then you choose whatever you want to do. It's an RPG, just without the computer." When she squints in confusion he explains. "Role playing game."

Recognition goes off in her eyes and he realizes how he needs to sell the game to Sophie. "You get to pick a character. Well not pick. Make a character. You come up with a backstory and their abilities--"

"It's like coming up with a cover."

"Yes, exactly. It's exactly like that but you can also do magic if you want."

After she makes the connection, she's sold. The next day, she comes over with her backstory prepared. Or, rather, her backstories.

"I made more than one character because I couldn't decide on playing as a bard or a rogue. They're both very me. Oh," she gasps in much more excitement than Hardison thought he would ever see Sophie Devereaux show about Dungeons and Dragons. "Is there any way I could play as a bard and a rogue?"

"I got you," he says pulling out an info sheet he'd printed in anticipation of her request. "Bam. Sophie special."

"Songfilch?" she reads from the top of the sheet.

"It's not an official class," Hardison explains. "It's kind of a homebrew hybrid I whipped up. Half thief, half performer."

Sophie lights up. "You made me a grifter!"

"I told you this was a fun game."

"One more question," she says. "Is it possible I could play as a vampire? They get the thrall ability which would be useful I think."

"Uh, well you could," said Hardison. "But vampires also can't enter homes without being invited. The whole point of being a rogue is sneaking into houses without being invited to steal stuff. You can't expect them to just open the door and let you…" His words trail off as he remembers who he's speaking to. She bats her eyelashes at him, teasingly. "Yeah. Vampire songfilch. Go for it."

Nate texts him again later in the afternoon. He thinks it's gonna be in response to the munchkin baker character he sent (not a real race or class but Nate's not gonna check) but, miracles of miracles, it's a real character. Not a full character, mind you. It's just sketchy notes for a character: A cleric turned paladin. Servant of the god Helm--god of protectors.

There's not a lot there but there's enough for Hardison to know he actually put effort into it. He thinks Sophie must have gotten to him. Either way, it's enough for him to fill in the blanks and make Nate a character he will actually enjoy playing once he gives it a chance.

An enjoyable character who kicks ass since Eliot is still refusing to.

Parker is actually pretty game about the whole thing.

Which she better be, Hardison thinks. You can't force a guy to jump off of a cliff and then get mad about a little geekery.

She picks her class easily (rogue, natch) but she has trouble picking a race.

"What are you playing as?" she asks.

"I'm not playing," he explains. "I'm running the game. I'm like the narrator."

"Oh." She frowns. "That's lame. It would be more fun if you played."

"Someone has to run the game, Parker."

"I guess," she says. "It's still lame though."

He helps her finish her rogue (halfling rogue they decide), but he's only half paying attention. By the time they're done, he realizes there's someone he needs to call.

Hardison arrives at the game sesh with a guest. "Hey guys," he announces. "This is Chris, my foster brother. He's exactly like me, minus the criminal activity and rugged good looks."

He's also white, but no one mentions that.

"What's he doing here?" Eliot asks.

"Hardison asked me to DM for y'all," Chris answers.

Parker realizes what this means first. "You're playing?"

He nods. "Elven Wizard. I'm gonna hack reality, baby."

Chris rolls his eyes. "You can't just use the word hack whenever you want to. It has a very specific meaning."

"I can if I hack the language," Hardison shoots back as he sits down.

Chris grits his teeth like he's had this argument many times before (which he clearly has). "Let's do this before I kill you. Not in the game, in real life. Are you guys ready?"

Hardison looks around the table: Fighter, Songfilch, Paladin, Rogue, Wizard.

It's a weird group.

He grins.

"Ready. Let's do this."

#leverage #alec hardison #nate ford #sophie devereaux #eliot spencer #parker #does parker have a last name? #is parker her last name? #idk bro and I need to get to work

[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, ALEXEI! You’ve been accepted for the role of BENEDICK. Admin Rosey: Alexei, you have no idea how happy we have to have another beloved Montague, Benedick, join our ranks! It’s a difficult thing, capturing the nuances of a character within a single application -- laying out their past, present and future in a way that gives each of us a glimpse into your plans for them without revealing it all. But you managed to do it, and very successfuly too. We are so very excited that you have captured Benedick so well and we cannot wait for him to bless our dashes! I, personally, can’t wait to see what type of trouble him and tragedy you have planned for him. Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Alexei/Sasha

Age | 23

Pronouns | They/Them

Activity Level | I’m not really sure how to rate it on a scale of 1-10, but I’m confident that I can do 4+ replies a week and be reasonably active in a group chat. My active hours would probably be sporadically in a group chat from about 9am-2pm, and then I could be working on replies nights from 8-11pm EST. My job/general schedule has pretty steady hours.

Timezone | EST (GMT-5)

How did you find the rp?  | I told Victoria I was still indie roleplaying and she showed me this ring.

Current/Past RP Accounts | Sorry!

IN CHARACTER

Character | Battiasta Tahan - Benedick

What drew you to this character? | In Much Ado About Nothing, Benedick is written as a sarcastic actor-type, always performing to keep the crowd (and his closest friends) guessing, never showing his true face. According to Battista’s bio, he’s mostly like that in his early life, but I thought it would be interesting to explore how this kind of behavior bleeds into the more serious, quiet attitude that seems to come with more experience, more hardship, and more trauma. Is the “new” him the real one, or is it just another mask worn to ingratiate himself with those around him? I find myself drawn to him because I love to look underneath the underneath, to seek out the bare bones motivations behind people’s actions and let them spin their stories as they will.

Battista is a man that’s made many mistakes and has a lot of regrets — though maybe less than we’d think. His story is compelling, and I look forward to doing the deep dive, turning over the rocks to find the soft damp dirt beneath. I want him to have some satisfaction, and I want him to grow into someone capable of being a good friend, if not a good person.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character?  |          Team Making or Team Breaking—

    Battista knows how important it is to trust your team. Just like in the military, knowing that they have your back can be the difference between holding back just a second too long and ending up with a bullet to the skull, and trusting them to watch over you enough to do what you need to do. But how is a trio composed of a control freak, a wild card, and a walking dead woman supposed to function?    It’s not an area suited for his silver tongue— these people need a solid leader, dependable and strong, not someone that charms them and runs when he gets what he wants. He doesn’t want to give up, but bad blood and hard feelings pin him on one side, and a completely unreadable mystery on the other. Is it possible that he can win them over, or will his white-knuckled grip on the reins just end up bloodying all of their mouths?

        Explosive Personality—  

    It’s nothing personal, except when it is. Whether Battista dislikes him on principle, or out of jealousy, something about Everett Craven drives him up a wall. It would take a push for him to resort to outright premeditated murder, and he wouldn’t do it to an emissary without permission, keeping in mind the delicate position it could put the already at war families in. But, well. He certainly wouldn’t lose any sleep over it.    As for the murder weapon— what better way to win a war than with guerilla tactics? Battista isn’t an explosives expert by any means, but he knows his way around something so simple as a booby trap car bomb. With a car as well-loved as Everett’s, it’s a no-brainer to use something ignition-based as a method of assassination, as it’s almost guaranteed that he’ll be the only one caught in the blast. Almost.

         Be It Spark, Inferno, Or Nothing But Ash—

    No man is an island, no matter how much Battista would like to pretend that’s the case for him. With every bullet in the bodies he drops, every hit he takes, he can’t help but wonder just what it was that Genevieve Zhang saw in him the fateful night he prostrated himself before the Montague leadership that made her speak for him. He doesn’t feel it’s his place to outright ask, not yet anyway. He’s unsure if he even wants to know the truth of it.

    Her opinion shouldn’t matter to him. He tells himself it doesn’t, that he’s a grown man, confident in his abilities and his place in the world. Still, the possibilities keep him up at night.

        You Killed My Father, Prepare To Die—

    It seems a distant dream, with all that’s happened. Nearly fifteen years since the cold December night his mother called him, incomprehensible and weeping. Since he had to go down to the morgue with her and try to identify the bloated, dirty corpse the police had pulled from the river. Someone had murdered him, cut him up so badly they could only confirm it was him by the distinctive tattoo on his left shoulder, and the scar from his ACL surgery.

    They’d known it was the Capulets, sure. That’s what got him into this goddamn mess in the first place, though it helped that he knew they were hypocrites, ‘men of the people’ his shapely ass. But he knows it had to be one person to shred his face to ribbons, to strike the final blow. And he knows someone had to okay the kill order. He’s kept an ear to the ground, but it’s hard to hear anything about a nobody that was killed over a decade ago. Still, there’s the tiniest spark of hope. Some day, someone will slip. If they’re still alive, they’ll brag about killing Battista Tahan’s father, and when they do…

    They won’t make it to hell in one piece.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Well, Yeah. Empty Revenge isn’t a whole lot to live for.  

IN DEPTH

What is your favorite place in Verona?

    An odd sort of smile lingered at the corners of his lips in the aftermath of such a question, like he was unsure of whether it was allowed. He shrugged just the left shoulder, palm raised to the sky dismissively like you had asked him how his day was going, how his mother was— how was it ever, yeah? What did it matter, where his favorite place was? It couldn’t hurt to share, but still the answer seemed ripped from him. “The Arena.” One corner of his mouth turned further, expression shifting into something akin to bemusement, and his hand turned down to mime writing. “I like to sit in the shadow of it during the heat of the day, and try to draw.” A grimace, and then a laugh to follow. “Emphasis on ‘try’. But it’s loud, full of people going about their business. Good to people watch.” It was a far sight better than sitting on his thumbs in his empty, silent apartment, anyway. It was nice to pretend that someday he’d be able to draw more than a single line, or write more than a sparse sentence.

What does your typical day look like?

    “Still can’t help but wake up at six,” the comment came off-hand, a huffed laugh out of a wide mouth quirked into something like a chagrined smile. “Drink coffee, work out. Usually sleep for another hour or so after that, if I can.” He rubbed the back of his neck, tough fingers cold against his own skin — a grounding gesture. “Outside of that, I don’t have much of a routine.” Routines make you complacent, after all. A dangerous thing to be, especially when you’re predictable as well. “I try to show my face at the usual haunts, let people know I’m alive and well. Check in on the ducklings, see what they’re up to. Do odd jobs for my landlady— she thinks I’m some fucked-up vet, guess she’s not far off.” He laughed outright at that, something biting creeping into the single bark. Silence reigned.  “I try to keep my head down, unless asked otherwise. But I do like to party.” A last wry twist of his lips. “My only vice.”

What has been your biggest mistake thus far?

    His throat clicked in protest against the single dry swallow he managed — his only reply for a while. The question didn’t make him flinch, which he considered a victory. Shoulders remained straight, the line of them loose and his fingers very deliberately uncurled. Look upon him and see how unbothered he was. “Leaving my mother when I did—” Battista’s eyebrows furrowed, and he cut himself off. Softly, he continued, “no. It’s not even that, she would have wasted away with or without me there to watch.” Funny thing, that. He was glad he didn’t have to watch. “I guess it was… when I was young, I was never around. It wouldn’t have changed anything, but at least I would have known them. I was so caught up in my own. Shit, in my own faux-glamorous life, that they didn’t know me and I didn’t know them, at the end.” He shook his head, a soft huff of humorless laughter escaping. “They were the only family I ever had, no aunts or uncles or grandparents. And I don’t know a damn thing about either of them— I don’t even know if they loved each other.”

What has been the most difficult task asked of you?

    “I’m good at everything.” The response was immediate, dismissive— he didn’t even lift his eyes from the phone in his hand. In the silence that followed, his brows furrowed, as he pretended to think about it further. “Well, except baking. Not very patient, you see.” The mask is near perfect, but the truth of it is this— it seems like nothing is ever easy, anymore.

What are your thoughts on the war between the Capulets and the Montagues?

    Battista blinked, surprised to be asked such a question. “How do I feel about any endless war? It’s pointless and painful, and it’s getting good people killed.” The answer seemed so simple, said aloud like that. It made him grimace. “Reductive, sure. Do I wish death on every hypocritical man-of-the-people Capulet? No. Maybe more than a few, but not all. I know the Montagues aren’t saints either, singularly or as a whole.” A sardonic laugh. “And I know if it had been me that was murdered, or if it had been Daly or Rosso, King, Ivarsson — we wouldn’t have gone to war over something so destructive as pride.” His gaze grew distant for a moment, chewing the inside of his lip. The remainder of his little speech is little more than a murmur: “but I follow orders, and I keep my mouth shut, and these are the things that matter.”

In-Character Para Sample: TW; descriptive injury, death, gore

    The firefight started at 0243 in the streets of a decrepit, abandoned town with crumbling buildings and dusty roads. They were on patrol with some locals— him, Rossi, the snipers they called Rana and Rospo, and a few others scattered among the buildings. Rossi was pink-cheeked and bright, sighing out great clouds of crystalline breath in the cold moonlight from the cloudless sky, making bad jokes about being a dragon. Their lack of quality couldn’t keep the small grin from Tahan’s face, something half-cocked and tucked into his collar. Rospo had asked if he’d ever seen snow with something close to incredulity in his tone, about as much expression as they’d ever seen from the man, and Rossi’s wide-eyed reply was punched out of him before he’d even had a chance to get the first word out, a fine red mist splattering onto Tahan’s face.

    Then they heard the shot.

    It spurred their loose formation into action as they leaped to cover and following the trajectory of the bullet to its source. The night erupted into sound, the sharp rapport of an AK-47 in a window off to the left. Their squad returned fire, and Tahan fell into a crouch and darted the two feet separating him from Rossi, gripped the straps of his gear, and dragged him into a doorway behind a grim Rana and one of the trainees, Allaiwal. He crouched over the man and swallowed the bile that rose in his throat when he saw the damage — glassy brown eyes, no breath, an entry wound an inch under his jaw and an exit wound gaping where his brain stem should have been. He’d seen worse. He had to tell himself that to get his lungs to pull in some air, and when he licked his lips to try and wet his mouth, he could taste blood. He nearly gagged on it, but he still had a job to do.

    The firefight was over before it really began. A half dozen men firing on a lone window could only miss so many times in five seconds, and when the night quieted Tahan let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. He carefully ran his hand over Rossi’s eyes to close them, a smear of blood left behind over a slack face. Grit his teeth, gripped his rifle. The night rang with shouted commands, suggestions, curses, and his voice cut through it all in short, barked out commands. Fan out, check for any more surprises— Rana, call for a CASEVAC, Allaiwal, you’re with me. The slighter man shadowed him with a silent nod, and everyone else jumped to their assignments.

    Tahan led them to the squat building with his rifle ready, grip steady. Focused. The initial screech of the hinges on the door made him cringe, but as they stepped over the threshold and into the dark, the house remained silent. Blood was smeared on the windowsill, on the ground. Bullet holes riddled the wall behind them, and the room smelled like gunsmoke, like unwashed bodies lying in wait, like death.

    But there was no body.

    They exchanged glances, Tahan’s flat, Allaiwal’s a little nervous. They didn’t speak, but as he stalked back into the night after the scattered blood trail, Allaiwal followed. Their footsteps made no sound in the streets, two hunters on the prowl under the pale moonlight, and the sounds of their team clearing the buildings behind them faded into the distance. They were breaking protocol. Nobody called them back.

    The specks of blood led them out of town. His body was steady, his eyes focused, even as his head felt fizzy and light, pulse pounding somewhere high in his throat and his heart stuttering away somewhere in his chest. The wind picked up away from the shelter of the cluster of solid buildings, cutting against the skin of his cheeks, his nose, his neck. The blood led them on, great globs of clotting and widespread speckling among the scattered stones and dry dirt. The gore on his face, the bits of Rossi that still clung to his skin were drying into flakes, gumming his eyelashes and glueing his mouth shut. He breathed through his nose, though for the first time in his life the smell of copper was making his stomach roll. The trail led on, into the dark. It dried up, and he circled to look for the trail, as Allaiwal kept eyes on the ridges, looking for movement, for an ambush. Something howled in the distance. He picked up the trail fifty meters from the last spot, just as he was starting to lose something he didn’t dare call hope. They pressed on.

    They found the man half by accident when Tahan nearly tumbled into the ravine that had put an end to him. Allaiwal gripped his sleeve and saved his life, roughly jerking him back and putting his feet on solid ground. The near-miss set his heart pounding once more, choking him. He stared down at the corpse as they clutched each other’s shoulders, unable to tear his eyes away from the twisted form, the broken bones, and the gaping wound in the nameless stranger’s shoulder that would have put an end to him sooner rather than later, if the fall hadn’t. He swallowed hard, and tried to feel something. Satisfaction, disgust. He couldn’t.    Allaiwal must have seen something on his face, because he stuttered something out. Tahan couldn’t understand him for a moment, blinked uselessly, realised— he was speaking english.

    ��� — Sorry?”

    “I said —” he swallowed hard, as the whites of his eyes seemingly took up all of his face. “Do not worry, someone will come to bury him. We should go.”

    The percussive sound of a chopper echoed faintly through the valley, and he turned his gaze up to the ridge above them. There, on the edge: a lone rider on horseback, a black shape silhouetted by the moon. He raised his hand in greeting, and Allaiwal made a nervous sound behind him. The rider raised their hand back, and then turned and disappeared from view, and silence reigned, and so he thought about Rossi, being sent home to his mother in a heavy box. He thought about standing on her doorstep in Taranto with an apology on his lips and heaviness in his weary heart. It pressed on his chest, and he turned his gaze back to the corpse in the ravine, bile in his throat at the futility of a single man shooting at a six man cell, of dying alone. What was the fucking point of it all?

    Worry? I wouldn’t say worried.

    It was the first clear thought he had since dragging a corpse into a cold, empty house an hour ago, and so Tahan didn’t say anything. He shrugged one shoulder, turned his back on the cooling body, and followed a similarly silent Allaiwal back to the remains of their squad in that tiny, forgotten town.

EXTRAS

Sample blog |  https://cuorepietoso.tumblr.com/

Some headcanons | He has kept a journal since he was small, scribbled words about his thoughts, messy sketches of the things he’s seen—used to love spending hours drawing people, animals, plants, items that caught his eye, and writing. Since he’s come back to Verona, he can’t seem to put a pen to paper anymore. Perhaps he should try photography? \ He’s a Capricorn sun, Scorpio moon and ascending, so at the surface he seems fundamentally responsible, serious, efficient, and rational, but deep down he’s repressed, dramatic, and cunning as hell. \ His role in the Col Moschin was Incursor-specialized Combat Medic, meaning he was good at getting into places and good at keeping things inside people where they belong. \ He’s nearing six feet and a buck seventy.

Pinterest board | https://pin.it/3vvntdclvgej3i

Spotify playlist | https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5vJ07jCsvhHWU5NtsxxSLE

Preliminary notes/research | https://docs.google.com/document/d/1l4m0F-m0FdHLUNBlWTnw-hugOSu4GbC1uZbPg9VFV6c/edit?usp=sharing

#accepted #accepted: benedick

[mymelancholiesblues]

Just wondering, what your head canon for Leon's family?

Oh my god, I was planning to post this huge compilation of my RE Headcanons soon (starting with what I have for Leon) when I got your ask’s notification. Are you a mind reader? Hahaha. But really, thank you for providing me with a justification to start posting them.

I would like to please invite you to sit because I have plenty – honestly PLENTY – of things to share over this specific matter (Leon’s family). And, of course, to ask you to bear with me through them.

For anyone else whose interest might be picked over this: keep in mind that these are (obviously) my headcanons for Leon’s background and family and in no way is anyone else under the obligation to accept nor fully agree with them.

I wrote them down because I think A LOT about storytelling devices, stories structures, characterization and characters studies, world-building, fiction tropes, etc. and, since I’ve been a Resident Evil fan from age eight to this day, I also tend to spend a lot of time thinking about its characters – and the overall rest of its lore. Furthermore, as a way to help me write them in fanfictions or even in meta-analysis, I’m always thinking of what would make sense within these characters narratives and to their personalities.

Anyway. Back to Leon and his family!

There’s a very solid theory in RE Fandom that Raccoon City is set in Missouri. I really take this into account when I think about RE Characters because it helps me “placing them” before Raccoon, since not all of them were originally born/living there. Leon, for example, according to canon material, only decided to apply to be a police officer in Raccoon because “he was intrigued by the bizarre murders cases in Raccoon City” going in the news. 

Because of this, *my* Leon S. Kennedy:

– Was born in small Galena/Illinois. His parents moved to Chicago/IL when he was around 8;

– So, huge fan of the Chicago Bears (and the Chicago Bulls);

– Leon was lovingly raised by a very Catholic couple, Liliana and Isaac;

– Since Kennedy and Scott are, respectively, an Irish surname and a Scottish name and Leon is not an unusual name in Polish (check out about Polish Americans in Illinois and you’ll have a more proper comprehension of my thought process) and German cultures, I think Isaac would be a man of mixed Irish and Scottish heritage, and Liliana of Polish and German heritage;

– Although, his biological parents were actually Roberto (Italo-American punk) and Abigail, Liliana’s youngest sister;

– Robby was a drunken deadbeat, while Abbie was an airhead obsessively in love. Leon was conceived when they were both very young – his mom had sixteen and his dad eighteen;

– Liliana had three daughters (ages 10, 13 and 15) by then (1977), but she and Isaac always dreamed of having a little boy. They even tried to, but the attempts led to miscarriage after miscarriage, so when Abbie gave birth to Leon, the couple was pretty much devoted to their nephew, always visiting to see him and make sure he was properly being taken care of;

– Robby took note of all that and when Leon was only barely one year old, he packed his and Abbie’s stuff and imposed that he was leaving and that she should go with him, leaving the baby behind, telling her that surely Liliana would raise him as if he were hers;

– Indeed she did, albeit feeling distraught by her sister’s complete negligence;

– Isaac adored the boy, and Leon’s three cousins always treated him as their little brother;

– Also: Liliana decided she wanted to erase Abbie’s true connection to Leon, so she got rid of all the photographies that led to those deductions, leaving only the ones that showed baby Leon alone or the ones with the rest of his relatives, but not with his biological parents. Isaac never agreed with this, though. He believed that once Leon got older, he had the right to know his origins, believing that if their love for the boy was true he’d love them back and recognise their role in his life, so there was no need to lie. Thus, he kept a photo that featured Robby resting a hand in Abbie’s shoulder while she was breast-feeding Leon;

– Isaac was very ill when Leon was nearing his eighteenth birthday, and passed away just five months prior to Leon turning nineteen (Isaac was sixty-three years old by his time of death). Leon found that hidden photo after Isaac’s death since his dad left most of his personal belongings to Leon;

– Leon never confronted his mother on it, putting together two and two and realising his biological parents haven’t thought twice before abandoning him, so he shouldn’t bother with them either as he was raised in a genuinely loving and supportive family;

– As I said, Leon has three older sisters: Lydia (born 1962), Meryl (born 1964) and Olivia (born 1967). Two nephews from Lyds’ side, and a niece from Liv’s;

– Parents personalities: I picture Leon’s dad as a mixture of both Jonathan Kent (DC Comics) and Eddard Stark (ASoIaF). A firm, caring, kind, upfront and sincere man with high moral values, strong ethics and unwavering sense of justice, who valued honesty above all else and always believed in the best of people and in helping others, true to the “love your neighbour as yourself” commandment. Liliana was the more stern parent (especially with Lydia, always wanting and expecting her to set out a good example for her siblings), so I picture her as a fierce, proud and honest woman, passionately protective and supportive of her family, that dedicated herself entirely to whatever she put her mind into (domestic activities, city projects, EVERYTHING); 

– Lydia would be the “Patricia Arquette’s character in Boyhood (2014)” kind of woman. Kind-hearted, hardworking and amazing, but guilty as charged of the serious flaw of always being romantically involved with scumbags. A Geriatric Nurse, divorced twice, mother to Kilian and Luke – both kids from her first marriage;

– By the way, Kilian is a problem-child and Lucas is the emo kid. Leon has trouble dealing with both;

– On top of it, Leon have several difficulties dealing with Lydia. Being the most distant from him in age terms, Lydia always came off as a bit distant to and unnecessarily strict with him;

– Meryl is Leon’s lesbian best buddy. Confidant, a bit arrogant, always open to give advice, prone to bluntly point out faults in her loved ones and to get angry with Lydia. She graduated in architecture and is a state employee, working as an Urban Planner. Has cleaning OCD;

– Olivia is the sister Leon was closest to since it was with her he had the “smallest” age difference. Driven, headstrong, empathetic and an introvert, she’s actually the one who inspired him to join Law Enforcement and is now a detective in Massachusetts. Liv has a long-time relationship with Peter, whom she met during her childhood in school, and they have a daughter, Harriet (any coincidence with Olivia Dunham from Fringe (2008-2013) is on purpose since Olivia would be Leon’s perfect older sister, ok);

– Leon’s sense of humour takes much after his brother-in-law’s one, Peter, considering he spent a lot of time with him as he would be a frequent guest to their house;

– He fell in love for the first time when he was in middle school in his seventh grade with an eighth grade girl, Allison, who was an exceptionally good basketball player and would kick his ass in all the practice games;

– Allie has very evident native-American heritage, skin and eye colour, hair;

– It was Allie the long-time girlfriend who broke up with him right before Raccoon. She felt he was being distant even prior to his decision to be a cop in Raccoon City. In truth, what happened was that Leon feared his future being set stone too early in his life the way things were going. His wishes to have more agency over the shaping of his own destiny started driving him further and further away from Allie as he felt she was expecting their relationship to progress over time to the building of a family etc.;

– Meryl and Olivia both loved Allie and to this day they don’t get over the fact that Leon didn’t marry her;

– Leon unwillingly distanced himself from his sisters, though, only contacting them for birthday calls and holidays alike because of all of that government recruitment stuff and classified shit and also dealing with a heavy emotional load after surviving Raccoon;

– The only reason Hunnigan found out that Leon had living relatives was that Lydia called to give Leon the news of Liliana’s death in 2010 (by seventy-two years of age) on work-time. Leon, of course, was very shaken with the news;

– While Leon only knows what Ada herself lets him about her past, family, childhood and the circumstances that put her precisely where she is now, Ada knows everything there is to know about his past, family, childhood and the circumstances that placed him precisely where he is now because she’s very competent at her job and did her homework as a spy (this will die with her, but for countless times she fantasized about him confiding all of those mundane details of his life and backstory in her);

– I’m very convinced that in one of those nights Ada visited him for some hoochie coochie after like, six to eight months without seeing or talking to him at all, Leon had to break up the news that she came in in a bad time since he already planned for a Thanksgiving dinner with his sisters. Ada accepts the challenge because she’s been REALLY missing him (horny on main). Ah, and he’s quite upset with her because of that “six to eight months with no news at all” “little” issue. So, picture that. Please.

And that is all I have for “Leon’s family” headcanons. For now. As I warned: PLENTY. Hahahahaha, sorry! Hope this can provide some entertainment and delight to you.

#Leon Scott Kennedy #Leon S Kennedy #Leon Kennedy #Resident Evil #rebel-the-way #OTP: like a part of me I can't let go #レオエイ #Aeon #Leon x Ada #♥ #[games] #[mine] #// #golden puppy #/// #asks and answers #Aeon fandom #my headcanons