#but with my classes coming back on the horizon only god knows

[unreadpoppy]

i'm probably gonna shy away from writing for some time cause life is hard and i have no energy, so some hobby is gonna get sacrificied

#like the depression + anxiety + executive dysfunction have been kicking my ass lately #hopefully i'll be back on meds soon and that'll help #but with my classes coming back on the horizon only god knows #also i've been lowkey unmotivated so that doesn't help #i wish i could make a copy of myself and have her do the writing #cause like it's the weird spot where i like writing #it makes me feel better #and i have all the ideas and stuff #but i've just been feeling drained #emotionally so i can't bring myself to type things #it's complicated

[yourfavoritebookclub]

WINGLEADER: A Xaden Riorson POV Fanfiction

CHAPTER 22

The next month is another flurry of classes, supply runs to Athebyne, and aerial training with Sgaeyl. 

The situation on the border is becoming increasingly dangerous, with raids becoming more and more frequent, and we can’t seem to get weapons to the fliers often enough. 

Violet’s training is a test all on its own. Everyday I spend with her tangled up in the mat, or instructing her as she uses magic, is a test of pure willpower. 

She’s so disarming, so intelligent, and driven, that it’s becoming difficult to keep things strictly professional. 

And beautiful. 

So fucking beautiful. 

There are days when she walks into a room and I have to manually override every desire fueled thought that courses through me. And, Gods, she doesn’t make it easy. She pushes, and I don’t know how much longer I can hold out.

“...I need you guys to get to class. Especially you. A signet would be great, you know. If you can maybe make that happen,” I hear Dain say as I walk toward his squad, gathered around the door to Professor Carr’s room. 

“She’s going to miss Carr’s class today” I say to Dain, the only warning of my approach, and Sawyer hurries to move out of the way.

“No, I’m not.” Violet shakes her head and I ignore her, keeping my attention on Aetos. 

“She needs to go,” Dain has the audacity to argue. “I mean, unless the wing has more pressing matters for Cadet Sorrengail, her time is best spent developing her wielding skills.” 

“I think we both know she’s not going to manifest a signet in that room. She would have already if that was the key,” I retort, looking down at him, annoyed.

 Aetos has no clue that I’ve been training her to wield over the last few months, and leave it to him to still believe he knows what’s best for Violet. “And yes, the wing has more pressing matters for her.”

“Sir, I’m just not comfortable with her going a day without at least practicing her wielding, and as her squad leader–”

“For Dunne’s sake,” I sigh, pulling a pocket watch out of my cloak and holding it out to Violet. “Pick it up, Sorrengail.”

Violet glances from Dain to me with an exasperated look on her face, and then looks down at the pocket watch in my hand, her face contorting in concentration.

She raises her right hand, and I can feel the brush of her power as it reaches my palm, a soft caress against my skin.

“You got this,” Rhiannon encourages.

“Let her concentrate,” Sawyer chastises.

The watch pulls from my hand and starts to fall, plummeting to the ground. Violet yanks her hand up and the watch speeds toward her, her other hand coming up to snatch the timepiece before it can smack her in the face.

There’s applause from her fellow first years, and I walk to Violet and pluck the watch out of her hand, dropping it back into my cloak. “See? She’s practiced. Now, we have things to do.” 

I put a possessive hand at the small of her back, delighting at the way Dain stiffens almost imperceptibly.  

I steer Violet away from the group, removing my hand once I feel confident she’s actually following me. “Where are we going?” 

“I’m assuming you’re not wearing flight leathers under that cloak.” I open the door to the dormitory and she walks inside, turning to stare at me, dumbfounded.

“What?” I ask, closing the door and leaving the bitter cold behind us.

“You opened the door for me.”

“Old habits die hard.” I shrug. “My father taught me that–” I hault abruptly as the sting of his memory, so at odds with the woman next to me. 

The hurt settles over me, and the world around me disappears momentarily as images of my father flood my mind. 

Mentoring me on the sparring field, taking Bodhi and I to the Cliffs of Dralor, letting us pick blackberries and play until the sun had fallen behind the horizon.

That final goodbye, where he’d promised to come home.

Even at twenty-three the ache that comes from missing my father feels enormous, like I’m still a child.

“Don’t you think it’s a little cold for flying?” Violet’s voice cuts through my cloud of grief.

I blink, the world coming back into focus. “I’ll wait here.” I say curtly.

Violet walks into her room and changes quickly, reemerging in a set of fur-lined leathers. 

We walk across the courtyard, empty save for a few cadets still rushing off to class.

“You didn’t answer me,” Violet says after a beat of silence.

“About what?” I don’t bother waiting for her, my resentment still fresh, her presence too close for comfort.

“About it being cold for flight.”

“Third-years have flight field this afternoon, Kaori and the other professors are just taking it easy on you guys, since the Squad Battle is coming up and they know you need the practice in wielding.” I push open the gate and stride into the tunnel, Violet hurrying in after me.

“But I don’t need the practice?” she asks doubtfully.

“Winning the Squad Battle is nothing in the scheme of keeping you alive. You’ll be on the front lines before the rest of them come next year.” 

“Is that what’s going to happen next year? I’m going to the front lines?” she asks, her voice holding an edge of uncertainty.

I press my lips into a thin line, the future already becoming a messy tangle between the two of us. “Inevitably. There’s no telling how long Sgaeyl and Tairn will tolerate being separated. My best guess is that we’ll both have to sacrifice to keep them happy.” 

We’re both silent for the remainder of our walk to the Gauntlet, watching the snowy landscape unfold.

“Second Wing,” Violet nods, noting the cadets that move through the Gauntlet, the obstacle course even deadlier with the addition of icy rain and thick clumps of snow. “You sure you don’t want your own squads out here practicing”

A small smile has the corner of my mouth lifting. It’s easy to forget sometimes that she’s still a first-year, and I remember what my own concerns and ambitions were then, all glory and no survival. “When I was a first-year I thought winning was the pinnacle, too. But once you’re in your third year, and you see the things that we do…” I grind my teeth at the horrors the professors have kept well hidden this year. “Let’s just say that the games are a lot more lethal.”

We start up the staircase, but there’s already a group coming down, so we both move off to the side to let them pass. I stand straighter, my spine going rigid as I take in the two figures descending the stairs. 

Commandant Panchek and Colonel Aetos reach the landing, and Colonel Aetos beams at Violet, who might be standing even straighter than I am. “At ease,” he says and her shoulders relax just a fraction. “You’re looking well, Violet. Nice flight lines,” he says, gesturing to the indentations around his eyes from the flight goggles. “You must be getting a lot of airtime.” 

“Thank you, sir, I am.” She smiles back at him, but the smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Dain is doing well, too. He’s my squad leader this year.”

“He told me,” Dain’s father says, his smile growing wider. “Mira asked about you while we were touring the Southern Wing last month. Don’t worry, you’ll get your letter privileges in second year, and then you can keep in touch more often. I’m sure you miss her.”

“Every day.” Violet nods. I wonder what it’s like to be in her position. To be the child of someone like Lillith Sorrengail, to rub shoulders and exchange smiles with these people who destroy, and take, and change the narrative to remain the forever heroes.

The sight of the general coming around the corner and out of the stairwell makes my breath catch, her presence grating against me like salt rubbed into all one hundred and seven scars that sprawl across my back.

“Mom,” Violet’s voice is a burst of air.

The general says nothing to her youngest daughter, just assesses her in that severe way of hers, scanning her from head to toe. “I hear you’re having trouble wielding.” 

Is this the first time she’s seen her mother since Conscription? There’s no warmth in the woman’s gaze, and Violet takes a step backward as if needing to put some distance between Lillith and herself. 

She lifts her chin slightly, “I have the best shields in my year.”

“With a dragon like Tairn, I would certainly hope so.” Her eyebrow quirks up in a look of distaste. “If not, all of that incredible, enviable power will have been…” she sighs in a mockery of dismay, “squandered.”

“Yes, General” is all Violet says in return, something like defeat in her tone.

“You have been the topic of some conversation, though.” General Sorrengail’s gaze lifts to Violet’s head, her mouth tightening in disapproval. I ball my hands into fists at my side, the desire to hit the general growing stronger the longer this interaction takes place.

“Oh?” Violet says curiously.

“We’re all wondering what powers–if any–you’re wielding from the golden dragon?” She smiles, a perversion of kindness. 

Sgaeyl’s growl rumbles through my mind, low and threatening.

“Nothing yet. Andarna told me that feathertails are known for being unable to channel power to their rider. It’s why they don’t bond often.”

What a smooth little liar Violence is.

“Or ever,” Colonel Aetos adds. “We were actually hoping that you might ask your dragon to allow us to study her. For purely academic purposes, of course.”

Nausea rolls through me at the thought of any of them getting their hands on Andarna, a sentiment clearly shared by Sgaeyl.

“I will slaughter them all if they mention her name again.” 

“Easy there, tiger, no one is going to let them near her.”

“Dark One,” She snarls in warning. 

I decide it’s in my best interest to stay quiet. 

“Unfortunately. I don’t see her being comfortable with that. She’s pretty private, even with me.” Violet says with a shrug

“Pity,” Colonel Aetos says simply. “We’ve had the scribes on it since Threshing, and the only reference they can find in the Archives about the power of feathertails is hundreds of years old, which is funny because I remember you father doing a bit of research about the second Kroblan uprising, and he mentioned something about feathertails, but we can’t seem to find that time.” He scratches his forehead in thought.

They all look at Violet expectantly. “I don’t believe he finished his research on that particular historical event before he died, Colonel Aetos. I couldn’t even tell you where his notes are.”

“Too bad.” General Sorrengail tries to smile, it looks more like a grimace. “Glad to see you’re alive, Cadet Sorrengail.” The general’s gaze shifts to me and our eyes lock for the briefest moment. I smooth my features into a mask of cool indifference. “Even if the company you’re forced to keep is more than questionable.”

My whole body feels poised to strike, something instinctual trying to overtake the calm, easy facade I have in place. “I always felt that we resolved any of those questions years ago.” I say quietly, willing myself to breathe evenly, to not allow my hands to shake

“Hmmm” She hums and turns away from Violet and I. “Do see if you can master some kind of signet, Cadet Sorrengail. You have a legacy to live up to.” She dismisses us both, walking past without a backward glance.

“Good to see you, Violet.” Colonel Aetos says to Violet with a pitying smile. Pancheck ignores the both of us, scurrying off to catch up to General Sorrengail.

Without a word Violet stomps up the stairs, her whole body exuding anger.

“You didn’t tell her about how you got out of the attack in your bedroom, and I’m not talking about me showing up.” 

“I don’t ever see her. And you told me not to tell anyone.”

“Didn’t realize it was quite like that between you,” I say softly, a pang of sympathy hitting me in the chest.

“Oh, that’s nothing,” She says nonchalantly, “She spent almost an entire year ignoring me when Dad died.” A bitter laugh rips from her throat. “Which was almost as wholesome as the years she spent barely tolerating my existence because I wasn’t perfect like Brennan or a warrior like Mira.”

“She doesn’t know you very well, then.” I lengthen my strides to keep up with Violet’s furious pace.

She scoffs incredulously. “Or she sees right through me. Problem is, I’m never quite sure which it is. I’m too busy trying to live up to whatever impossible standard she sets to ask myself if they’re even standards I give a shit about.” She swings her angry gaze to me. “And what was that about anyway? Saying that you resolved questions years ago?”

“Just reminding her that I paid the price for my loyalty.” It’s a nonanswer, but it’s the only answer I’m willing to give her. 

“Paid what price?” Of course Violet can’t keep well enough alone.

“Boundaries, Violence.” I warn, the phantom sting of each scar in the forefront of my memories.

Tairn and Sgaeyl both land across the field, Andarna tucking herself between Tairn’s legs.

Violet’s face breaks into a smile so bright that I’m momentarily stunned.

“We’re all flying today?” She asks as we walk toward the trio.

“We’re all learning today. You need to learn to stay on, and I need to learn why the hell it’s so hard for you. Andarna needs to learn how to keep up, Tairn needs to learn how to share his space in a tighter flight formation, and every other dragon but Sgayel is too scared to fly closer.” 

Tairn blows a puff of steam out of his nostrils in agreement.

“And what is Sgaeyl learning?” She asks, her eyes fixed on the navy scaled dragon. 

I grin at Sgaeyl. “She’s been leading for almost three years now. She’s going to have to learn how to follow. Or at least practice. 

Tairn makes a laughing sound deep in his throat and Sgaeyl whirls on him, snapping her teeth at his teasing. 

“Dragon relationships are absolutely incomprehensible.” Violet murmurs under her breath.

“Yeah?” I turn to her, cocking a brow. “You should try a human one sometime. Just as vicious, but less fire.” I run up Sgaeyl’s foreleg, twisting at the last second to swing my leg over the dip in her shoulder and settle into my seat. “Now let’s go.” 

#fourth wing #fanfiction #xaden riorson #violet and xaden #violet sorrengail #xadenviolet #fourth wing fanfic #sgaeyl #tairn and sgaeyl #liam mairi #dain aetos #andarnanurran #tairn and andarna #andarna #violet and tairn #xaden and sgaeyl #xaden and violet #mira sorrengail #rhiannon matthias #tairn #tairneanach

[ineffablefate]

Getting it all out...

I've been feeling strange and I just want to write it down so that it might stop bouncing around in my skull so much. I've been checked out and numb while also feeling anxious, helpless, and grieving deeply for the world.

I am overwhelmed with too much information, distrustful of almost all of it, intensely annoyed at the constant barrage of opinions, disagreements, demands, and incessant reactivity of my fellow humans. I feel disenchanted and disillusioned with myself, wondering if my former mystical experiences that fueled so much of my spiritual convictions were not simply weed-induced delusions of grandeur.

Intrusive thoughts goading me to commit senseless and spontaneous acts of violence have been at an all-time high, and my meditations and prayers seem to bear no fruit. My inspiration remains blocked, my desire to connect with others feels stunted, my hope for the future is bleak, and a sense of our collective impending doom lurks firmly on the horizon. It seems everyone else also senses this, but so few have the courage to stop what they're doing and truly band together to face it, to make any organized effort to stop it without devolving into useless and unhelpful arguments with each other.

My voice feels small and inconsequential in a sea of chaos, my wisdom is tired and worn out, and the old trick of letting go seems like a Sisyphus circuit that inevitably leads to hopelessly pushing the boulder back up the hill from the bottom again, for lack of anything else to do.

This is the darkest of it. There are glimmers of light and laughter and joy and romance and discovery with my partner. Moments of peace and short-lived reminders of growth, remembering this is as much a ridiculous comedy as it is a grave tragedy.

And on the surface, in the present, in my personal life, almost everything is great. I have an amazing woman who loves me dearly, wonderful friends and family who adore and support me, decent health, many gifts, the privilege to take a two month vacation through Europe.

And yet my own country seems to be barreling toward a second Civil War shamelessly instigated by its own political system while funding inhumane conflicts as well as providing aid to alleviate the damage done by them. The planet at large seems to be on the brink of a nuclear World War. Profits of large corporations are at an all time high and yet small businesses and lower class families are struggling to survive. A sane, humble, or wise leader is nowhere to be found, and instead we are force fed ego-driven, politic-pandering, mentally unwell old men who spew intentionally divisive rhetoric at every opportunity.

The National Guard is being called out to quell the overwhelming crime of some cities, dispatched in national paranoia to guard our southern border, and almost everywhere I look I see nothing but arrogant, fearful, self-righteous hypocrites demanding peace and respect in disrespectful tones of conflict, anger, and pride.

I know. I know. "It's darkest before the dawn." "This too shall pass." "It gets worse before it gets better." Too often I fear we are already in hell, and the devastation of it is such a slow burn that the build up itself, the long drawn-out stupidity, the stubborn refusal to shift course, the constant dangling carrot of hope and redemption is a clever part of its torture.

I only pray this fear is false. It may very well be that all these terrible things must come to pass, as a way of evolving the minds and hearts of humanity through intense suffering. I do intend to keep singing and dancing and laughing and loving and forgiving and letting go as I push my boulder up this hill. But God how I ache for us to drop all this nonsense and enjoy heaven on earth together. How deeply I wish we could just skip all the oncoming tragedy and senseless slaughter and havoc and pain. Haven't we all already suffered enough?

Whatever may come, I love you all. Despite all of this, I am somehow, someway, still doing well. And I'll push through. We all will.

May Love bless you.

Peace.

[maryannecrimsworth]

Against All

Pairing: Hailey Upton x Single Father! Former FBI profiler! OC! Kristoff "Kris" Aller

Summary:

Nine corpses, nine burnt buildings, nine victims --- no connections.

The Intelligence unit of District 21st had been unable to find anything. All the clues were dead ends, all the people murdered were different - there was no pattern, no connection.

The only thing in common in all the cases: the modus operandi.

More murders were happening as the unit remained stagnant -- the cases were increasing, and they weren't getting any closer to having even one suspect.

Voight had no choice: he called the most efficient criminal profiler that he knew - who had also left the Bureau after a terrible event.

Kris Aller didn't want to go back, he didn't want to look a monster in the eye ever again, not after what had happened to his daughters.

But the sergeant needed him. This case - all the murders - were linked to the tragedy of his life. A tragedy that Hank couldn't avoid.

A tragedy that only Hailey Upton would understand --- and uncover.

Chapter One: Benjamin Cooper

— God, I hate this song — the teenager complained in a grunt. Even though she was sitting in the passenger seat, she could hear the younger girl singing from the back. — Can you tell her to shut up?

— No way. — The man driving replied quickly. — Amber's expressing herself, I can't tell her off for that.

— So tell her to express herself with another song! I swear to God if I hear — the girl on the back sang loudly: I was good she was hot — Argh! — The teen grunted. — I gave up. My ears will bleed forever.

— Blackhawks won yesterday, let her cheer. — He looked at the girl by his side, worry present in his semblance. — Is there something—

— Billy's here! — Amber shouted, making both the man and the teenager flinch. He stopped the car.— Papa, can I go? Please, I need to talk to him—

— At least she stopped singing.

— I heard that, Tess! — He stared hardly at the older girl before turning to the other. — Yes, you can, Amber, but behave in class, ok?

— Thank you! — She freed herself from the belt, kissed and hugged her father, and held the door of the car. — Bye, papa. Bye, Tessa. See ya later! — she dropped off and ran into the school. Her shirt of the Chicago Blackhawks got the attention of some girls around but she didn't mind.

They watched the little girl go as they waited inside the car in complete silence.

— Oh, no. — Tess suddenly spoke. — Mother Alert, we gotta go.

A woman appeared on the horizon: it was too late, she had reached the car and was already asking for the teen to lower the window.

— you're a terrible getaway pilot. — she mouthed to the man before rolling down the glass and allowing the woman to come even closer.

— Kris! How good to see you! — the woman screamed.

— Hello, Margaret. — only Tess could tell his smile was fake. — How are you?

— Oh, dear, I'm suffering because of you! — Tess widened and moved away from the window. Being between the two now should be her punishment for complaining. — My boys won't stop asking for your pretzels! My house is a mess.

— I'm sorry to hear that. You haven't tried the recipe yet? — Kris kept his hand on the wheels. He wanted to leave as much as Tess did.

— I have, but I don't have the magic hands you do, dear! Would you like to stop by tomorrow and teach the boys how to make it? I think it's the only way to calm them down.

— Oh, no, I wouldn't like to bother you. — One of Kris' hands fell to the gearbox. — I'll bring some more to their training, don't worry. — the car started to move. — Sorry, I gotta go. See ya!

The woman was left behind in sidewalk as both Kris and Tess started to breathe easily again.

— Was she smelling? — Tess asked.

— Don't be mean. It was just some cologne...I guess.

— It's paradoxal, you know. The mothers love a single dad but are crazy to make you no longer single.

— This is the conversation you want to have right now?

Tess' smile faded away. Kris wouldn't miss a thing, would he?

— I don't want to talk about it.

— Okay.

— It's just silly stuff from school.

— If it's bothering you, then it's not silly — he started, and Tess finished the sentence with him, her voice was filled with impatience and discomfort.

— I know, I know. — she sighed. — Still, I don't feel like talking right now.

— Sure. — Kris kept driving. — Do you want to get some ice cream?

— I have class.

— It's okay, we have time. — He turned the wheel to the right and started to look for an ice cream parlor. They arrived at a commercial street very quickly. — Here it is.

— It can't be open.

— It is! — he parked without any problem. At this time in the morning, no one was driving or passing by a street like that, but, thankfully, the parlors and cafeterias were open — still empty, but open.

— So, — he turned off the car. — ice cream?

— I hate when you do this

Kris smiled.

— you hate many things but you love ice cream, don't you?

— yes.

— So let's go.

Kris made her smile — well, she was smirking but it counted —, and they approached the parlor with joy.

The man was about to crack a joke when a man showed up by the empty street corner.

Kris' steps slowed down, recognizing him immediately. He, however, didn't allow Tess to have the chance to look at the other man.

— Tessa. — He turned her over to him. — I'll be right after you, ok? Here, get the one you want. — Tessa noted something was wrong, but she obeyed and walked over to the parlor, keeping distance from the other man.

As she reached the shop, Kris waited for the man to come closer.

— Sergeant Voight. — Kris spoke with a tense voice. He already knew what this was all about. He knew what he was going to ask. That's why he didn't take any of Voight's calls. — How can I help you?

— You know how. — Voight was holding a file. — I need a profiling, off the books.

— The feds would be happy to help you with this.

— No. — Hank stepped closer, — they can't know. We still don't know the length of this and...

— Maybe one of them can be involved. — Kris grunted under his breath. He looked away and remained in silence for many minutes.

— We've got 9 victims so far. — Hank would say whatever he needed to convince the man. — It's a clear M.O but we cannot predict too much besides that. My team and I—

— Okay. — Kris spoke suddenly. This time, when he looked back at the Sargent, his eyes shone discreetly. — I'm in. — His look jumped to the girl in the parlor, now appreciating her ice cream. — With one condition. My daughters have to be safe , no matter what.

— Nothing will happen to them. — Voight handed him the file. — I already spoke with your boss, he said he'll take care of the center until you're done helping us.

Kris laughed.

— You're a step ahead, as always. — Kris walked away from the Sargent. — See you there.

Voight nodded and left.

And Tess was watching everything when Kris finally came to the parlor.

— You're getting back, aren't you? — Tess sounded suspicious. Her hands were squeezing the bowl of ice cream with strength.

— You don't have to worry about it. — Kris said, helding one of her hands in an attempt to calm her down. Her expression slowly softened. — I made sure you and Amber we'll be safe and... — He showed a mischievous smile. — you have your own high school drama to live now, forget about me.

Tess rolled her eyes at his words.

— I'm not telling you anything.

— Yeah? I doubt it. I think you will come up with five profiles by next week.

— God, you make me sound creepy.

Kris laughed proudly and loudly.

— What can I say? It's our family thing.

X

Arriving at the police station would never be discreet: as soon as Kris left his car, half a dozen officers turned to him. Some smiled, some widened their eyes, but the loudest of all was Ruzek, who cheered and shouted as he came closer.

— Can't believe you're here, man — Adam hugged Kris and tapped his back. — I always thought you'd come back

— Hold on, I'm not back — "yet", Adam whispered, interrupting Kris while they walked to the unit floor — Voight asked for help and that's it. Don't get too excited.

— I'm not, but Kim will be. She's been curious about you since Myk and Amber started playing together.

— But she already knows me… — Kris was confused, he couldn't understand the reason behind Adam's excitement in time

— But she doesn't know ‘Bishop’! — Kris grunted in distress — It's good to have you back, Bishop

Adam walked away laughing as they came upstairs and met with the rest of the unit. Voight, Upton, Torres, Burgess and Atwater stared at Kris immediately.

— Team, that's Aller, former FBI profiler. — Voight introduced him — He’s going to help us with this case, so bring him up to date.

The man nodded respectfully and came closer as Torres stepped in and showed him the board.

— We have 9 corpses, 9 places and 9 crime scenes. All of these men were killed between 9 p.m to 3 a.m, with chains and inner burns.

Inner? Kris frowned at the words and stared attentively at the photos.

— They were cooked. — Kim explained with a choked voice. — Tortured during the whole night. We can’t get why, we don’t have any suspects…We don’t even have images. Only the bodies.

— And we don’t have much more of them, either…They had to be identified by their dental arch.

— It’s cruel. — Kevin said.

— It’s personal. — Kris spoke. — The victims had any enemies in common?

— No one. Nothing, to be honest. — Adam approached the board with the photos of the victims. — Different jobs, different homes, different colors and ages…But the same way of death.

Silence took over the room. Again, confusion and tension paired in the air as the new member of the unit stared at all the data, and all the other members watched him. He was totally still, eyes frozen on one name on the board.

— Benjamin Cooper. — Adam broke the silence with anxiety, pointing at the name that Kris so determinedly looked at. — No criminal record, but he testify years ago in—

— I know him. — Kris cut him off, and his eyes finally moved: his gaze landed on Voight. His expression, even though still as before, focused on the sergeant for too long. — He’s the reason why I’m here.

Voight looked away: the discomfort made him move around the room as Hailey watched them both suspiciously.

— Why do you mean? — Kim inquired.

— I…I worked on the case he testified in. — Aller explained. — Thanks to him…it all went wrong.

— I want you to talk with his family. — Voight demanded. — They know something, but didn’t tell us anything. They’ll talk to you.

Kris crossed his arms over his chest. He didn’t take long to agree with the sergeant.

— Is this a pattern? — He asked before walking away from the board. — The other victims were involved in the case too?

— No. None of them had ever testified. — Torres replied.

— Cooper was a dead loss, the testimony was the only thing that could get him killed. — Kris went on. — He might be our connection.

— You heard him. Investigate the man, make a timeline of the night he was murdered, discover every single contact of his and find a connection. Every little detail can be important. — Voight gave the orders as he followed Kris.

They were about to walk downstairs when a strong voice stopped them.

— If Benjamin was a ‘dead loss’ as you said — Upton spoke up — why waste our time on him? The killer might act again tonight and we have to—

— Do we have any better leads? — Voight’s voice was sharp, his reaction was abrupt and harsh. His voice would grow louder if Kris hadn’t held him. — What? — He screamed at Aller.

— Calm down.

— I am perfectly calm for this case, Kristoff, but I cannot bear to see another dead body because of him .

Kris’ expression went dark. He bended over Voight.

— You’re not thinking straight….— Kris whispered. — Stay here. Remember what we talked about. I’m going to talk with the Coopers.

Voight walked back to the unit floor, and, before going into his office, he ordered again:

— Upton, you go with him.

She opened her mouth to protest, but Hank had already shut the door close.

Hailey picked up her coat and walked away with Kris, in complete silence.

They went downstairs and passed by Platt's balcony with a quiet goodbye. Even though the Sergeant clearly tried to talk with Kris, the man walked across the entrance and ignored all her glances.

Again, Hailey watched his behavior in silence and kept her way to the car.

— I'm sorry about Voight. — Kris said before getting closer to the passenger side. — This case is…. complicated to him.

They got into the car and Hailey asked:

— Yet, he won't tell us anything about it.

— It's a confidential case. — He argued.

— So confidential that you think everyone involved in it's a target. — She started the car.

— You need a connection. That might be it.

— Is this your profile? Or just a guess?

Kris responded with a snort.

— You're better off without knowing much about this case, believe me. — He shrugged in his seat. — Are we going to the Coopers or not?

Hailey grunted and drove away from the police station.

X

The house of the last members of the Cooper family was simple and humble. The garden looked abandoned, the grass was tall and the fence was almost completely broken. The car parked in the open garage was lowered, with empty tires and cracked windows.

They did not look simply poor — they looked like they had given up on life itself.

— I think it’s better if you stay here. — Kris spoke before Hailey could exit the car. Luckily or not, she froze for a second, giving him time to leave and walk over to the house.

After collecting herself, Upton got out of the car and ran after him.

— Excuse me? — She grabbed his arm and made him turn to her. — Who do you think you are?

— Look, don’t make this personal. Just — He cut her off before she could argue back — Just look around. They won’t talk to you.

— But to you they will? You're as arrogant as any shrink who's never been in the streets.

Kris watched her speak in silence: with his hands in his hips, he only waited for the woman to be done.

She stopped talking very quickly — after all, it was useless to say anything to his blank, strained expression — and the man enjoyed the silence of the street before finally replying:

— They will talk to me because they know me. — He stepped back. — Now, if you excuse me…

Ignoring his arguments, Hailey followed Aller close behind. He didn’t utter another word to her, and finally knocked on the house’s door.

— Anna? — Kris called. — It’s Kristoff. Can we talk?

Unlike the reception Upton and Voight received a few days ago, the woman answered him quickly and promptly. Her eyes were widened when she opened the door, but she frowned at Hailey. Anna’s face dropped, and she muttered to Kris a few words.

Kris signed to Hailey and they both followed the woman into the house.

— Can I see Benjamin's room?

— She already did — Anna replied before Upton could — They took all his gadgets and notebooks.

— I know. — Kris smiled gently. — I just want to check one thing up

Anna stared at him for too long — her gaze was heavy, not suspicious, but, somehow, sad. It carried so much guilt that she eventually showed him the room.

— I'm waiting in the kitchen. — she told them before opening the door of Benjamin's bedroom.

Kris stepped in as Anna walked away.

— As she told you, we already searched in here. You won't find anything useful.

— Maybe not. — Kris replied with a whisper, his whole being focused on analyzing the room. The walls were empty, and so was the bed and the dressers. — Looks like a prison cell.

— Or he was just minimalist. — Hailey argued. — Cooper's never been in jail.

— Yes. — Aller came closer to a drawer. — But he also had three records for criminal harassment. He was a stalker. — Kris wandered through the drawer and collected a few flyers. — Here it is.

— What?

— Our connection.

He didn't give Hailey time to question — Aller stormed out the room and came to Anna.

— Thank you for your help, Anna — He held out his hand to her. — We're already leaving.

The woman shook his hand and blinked slowly, as if gathering courage to say something.

— I have to tell you something. — Anna admitted.

Hailey saw Kris' expression drop — he stepped back and prepared to leave right away.

— You'd already told everything you needed. — He tried to be polite, but Hailey purposely stood in his way. He stomped on the detective and was obligated to stop.

— I did thank you. — Anna came closer, but Aller didn't look her in the eye. — But I never apologized for leaving you there. I shouldn't—

— It's okay. — He cut her off. — You don't have to. It's already gone. I don't resent you.

He smiled at her for a brief moment — only enough time to make her feel forgiven and understood.

Then he shook his head and left the house after saying a quiet goodbye.

Hailey stood there without understanding much — where was 'there'? What was Anna talking about? why would she thank him?

Upton followed him keenly — she wasn't going to stay in the dark again.

The way to the police station was silent: the tension stretched the air, making the atmosphere too heavy to even breathe. Kris shifted in his seat, his eyes were either moving to the window or to the driver's side. Hailey, on the other hand, kept her gaze on the streets.

When they parked and got out of the car, Platt was already waiting for them — for him.

The look that the Sargent gave Hailey showed her why the garage was completely empty. Trudy was furious.

— Have you gone mad? — She stomped over to Aller, and the man stepped back immediately. — What are you even—

— I guess your best ability is pissing the sargents off. — Hailey’s smile dropped as soon as Platt's gaze landed on her.

Kris spoke before Trudy could shout.

— This isn't the best place to talk about this. — He made Platt look at him again. — And you don't have to worry about it. — He held the sergeant's shoulders. — No one does. No one knows.

— Voight shouldn't have called you. You shouldn't be involved in any of this—

— Trudy, please— His eyes, shining with exasperation, turned to Upton for a brief second. — Don't—

— You can't help him! — She screamed.

And Hailey was watching and listening to everything. Maybe the whole station was.

— I can. — Kris' voice was still low, stable. Serene, the complete opposite of his face. — I will. Please, you—

— Aren't you thinking about your girls? How can you? He did—what he did was monstrous! — Platt would not stop. She could not stop. — He spanked you.

— I know. — Kris whispered as his arms involved the older woman. She was trembling under his hands.

— He raped you. — Platt sobbed, her tears were falling nonstop. — And you're being used again, you're ruining your life again for what? For him?

— I'm going to be fine, Trudy. I can do it.

— Voight's using you. — She pleaded again: — You can't—

— It's okay. — He hugged her tighter. — It's okay.

They stayed in the garage until the Sargent was able to stop crying. Until she was able to stop trembling.

And Hailey stayed there too.

She now had — at least a few — answers for all her questions about him.

#hailey upton x original character #hailey upton x oc #hailey upton #adam ruzek #hank voight #kim burgess #kevin atwater #original female character #single father #single dad oc

[xtom-darling-x17]

Under the Waves

Pairing - Peter Parker x Mermaid Reader

Summary - You are a mermaid trying to fit into a normal life, bumping into Peter and having to go to a new school is tough but you make it through.

Warnings - none other than slight swearing

A/N - This was requested by @oyasumimosura hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think, Thank you for all your love and Support to my blog. I really appreciate all your interactions 🥰

Word count - 1K+

Life is an open book, an particular fairy tale might become across as fake to most people. However, there is always truth behind them even, if it’s only a little bit of pixie dust over the Horizon. 

To show our true colours and have meaning in life is a living, walking dream. To some people, they don’t take any notice of these kind of adventures. And to others, they live by the fantasy of becoming more than what humans call Mermaids.

You being a normal, teenage girl living, enjoying life with friends. Even thou, there is school and hard work to be achieved at such a young age. You felt something missing, a connection that was beyond out of the human’s eyes reach to see.

Landing yourself on an island that your necklace with a blue, glowing crystal is sending you. Your confused as what you might come across, being you trust your necklace. It has some strange powers, being able to protect you from danger.

Walking across the sand you come to a jungle, down a little slide way to a cave. There you slide down, ending up to a pool of calm water. You had an urge to dip your whole body in, as you did moonlight rises over you.

you look up to the moon shining above your head, looking around to see bubbles starting to pop. You appear to turn into something much more, magical than magic.

“Oh my god, this is awesome but frightening,” you gasped, as everything around you is now silent. Your necklace now stops glowing, your now wondering how to go back out.

Since that day you are a mermaid but not your typical one. You touch water to become the beautiful creature, when dry you turn back human. No one knows except for you, you try to live a normal life working through school and friends.

🧋

Peter Parker, an awkward, cute, clumsy boy who is making his way through life just like you with a secret.

On the busy streets of Queens he bumps into making you drop your books.

“I’m so sorry, let me help you,” Peter rushed to pick up your belongings. Quickly standing to see your mesmerising face.

“It’s honestly, fine. At lest it wasn’t water,” you joked sarcastically, “um, thanks,…”

“Peter, Peter Parker,” Peter smiles, handing back your books.

“Thanks, Peter. I’m Y/N,” You smile back at his adorable thin lips.

“I gotta go, I don’t want to be late for class um, bye Peter,” you chuckle nervously, waving.

“Bye, Y/N,” Peter waved back, walking in a total different direction.

🧋

Everyone whispering in between the hallways as they walk, Peter walks up to his friends Ned and Mj.

“Hey, guys. What is everyone talking about?” Peter questioned as he put his books into his locker.

“Haven’t you heard?” Ned shocked, “There is a new girl, just started,”

“What really? Wow,” Peter gulps, wondering at who this new girl is.

“Yh, heard that she pretty cool and collected,” Mj nods, “it would be nice if she joined,”

Ned and Peter looked at this each other, “wait, wait,” they turn around to her.

“Your telling me, miss anti-social actually,” Peter starts, “Wants to get to know someone,” Ned finishes astonished.

“No that’s totally not what I said,” Mj shakes her head, sometimes really need another girl to make it equal with these bone brain guys.

There is always Betty but she mostly with other people after Liz left.

“Put brain cells in your head before you come to school,” Mj bluntly mumbled, walking to class.

Peter and Ned shrugs, walking to class with her.

🧋

Peter sits down in physics, loving this lesson because he’s always into science. Hence why he goes to Mid-town high school, he got brains and skills to show off.

Just as he thought it couldn’t get any better he sees a pretty girl, not just a girl. You, he recognises from earlier. Peter starts to overthink getting lost in his mind that he didn’t even see you sit down next to him.

“Hey,” You smile, tapping on his shoulder, you tilt your head to the side.

Peter turns his head, “Oh, hey,” smiling, “so your the new girl? I bumped into you,”

“Yh, it’s a pretty cool school,” you laugh, melody to Peter’s hyper sensed ears. “Do not stress, your too adorable. Anyway wanna be friends Pretty boy,” you smile, feeling confident infront of him.

You made Peter flustered, pretty oblivious at your actions. Just trying to be friendly to the cute boy, who you won’t admit liking.

“Yes,” Peter smiled back as the class starts.

The class boring to others as usual but Peter found it interesting, he made his web fluid in this class along side chemistry. 

At the end of the class, you and Peter get paired up for the Home work. Your excited just as Peter to spend even more time together, even though only knowing each other just a few hours.

🧋

After some other classes, it’s finally lunch. Walking up to the cafe, you wasn’t really sure where to sit but Peter waved at you to come closer.

“Hi,” you sit down smiling, “it’s nice to meet you, I’m guessing your Peters friends. I’m Y/N,”

“Hey, this is Ned and Mj,” Peter speaks, getting cut off.

“Oh hey,” Ned smiles, bumping Mj’s arms to get her to look up.

“Hi, sorry I was staring into my soul.” Mj looks blankly at you.

“That’s ok, I guess you like the black Dalion like the murder?” You chuckle, Peter takes a bite of his sandwich.

“Yh, uh how do you know?” Mj looking at you intrigued, Ned shrugging at Peter.

“I can tell by your face, it’s not hard to know,” you laugh, “You like observing people, I’m the same,”

Turning back to Peter, you eat your food. Mj just nodding, kinda smiling at how she likes you.

You and Peter start chatting along with Mj and Ned. You become really good friends over the past few weeks at school.

🧋

“Oh, hey,” Peter looks up from his locker door, he getting his books into his bag.

“What are you doing tonight?” You nervously, question fiddling with your jumper.

“I am,” Peter thinks, closing the lock door with him looking into your eyes. He has lost all his words, seeing your beauty makes his mind go blank.

“Hello, Peter. Are you there?” You wave your hand in front of his face, giving a really confused look at why he all of sudden started to day dream.

“Oh, yes, um.” Peter looks around, tiptoeing up and down on his feet. He holding his bag with one hand tightly, over his shoulder.

“What are you doing tonight? I asked,” You say, licking your lips.

“Yh, Im studying. Do you want to join?” Peter blushes, smiling at you.

“Yh, I’m down for that, I need to study physics,” You see Mj and Ned walk up, “I’ll catch you later, I’m going to go to class.”

You wave, Peter nods saying, “Bye,” as you rush down the hall still nervous to talk to people.

Peter closes his locked, putting his head against it closing his eyes. Frustrated at his feelings for you are all over the place, it’s a huge mess.

“Hey, what stick went up your ass,” Mj tight smiles at Peter, dripping with sarcasm, “But honestly, what’s wrong?”

“You haven’t been yourself lately, Man. We just want check up on you before class,” Ned explained tapping on his should.

Peter turns around, seeing Ned and Mj.

“I’m good guys, nothing to worry about. I’m gonna go to Spanish?” Peter walks backwards pointing his thumb behind him, doing an awkward run to the door.

“But, we don’t have Spanish on Tue…” Ned sighs, “And he is gone,”

“No, shit. I don’t see him anywhere,” Mj turning around to look all directions, “We should head to class,” she walks, Ned following her.

🧋

Peter rushes out of class to go home, all he thinking about is you. Studying with you, maybe even more..

You and Peter only been friends for around 6 months but it feels longer than that.

He might even ask you to come for a movie night sometime, that would be cool.

“Oh Honey, Peter,” May heard his bedroom close, deciding to ask when he comes out.

Peter changes into some joggers and a hoodie, “what do you want for dinner,” May asked, curiously.

“Uh, I don’t know and um you know my friend, Y/N right?” Peter told May,

“Oh, yes that sweet girl, who you think is cute,” She smiles, going into the kitchen.

“Well, she is coming over,” Peter goes into the kitchen, smiling.

“That’s lovely dear, would she like to stay for dinner?” May starts to take out pots and pans.

“I would of thought, so?” Peter rushes to the door as he heard a knock.

“Hi, would you want to stop for dinner?” Peter grinned, as you walk inside.

“Hi sure,” You greet May then go to his room placing your bag down, Peter’s room has a bunk bed with a single at the top and a double underneath.

Peter and you settle down in his room, having lots of notes spread out to study.

“I really suck at physics,” you pout as Peter explained it again, “I still don’t get it,” You laugh.

“You will,” Peter reassured you, taking your hand rubbing it. You feel sparks fly up your arm, you smile at the contact.

There is a cup of water right near you, you being oblivious of your secret right now because all your attention is on Peter. 

Peter leans over to grab it but shortly spills it on you, you gasp, panicking having no where to run because the bathroom is outside.

You really want to get up but there wouldn’t be any point, it could be worse. May could see what you really are. It’s Peter, how bad can it be?

“Oh my god, Peter,” You gasp again, flapping your arms out mouth wide open.

“I’m so sorry, Are you ok?” Peter asks, “Your ok, love. It’s only a bit of water.” He reassures you softly stroking your head, giving you sympathy eyes. 

“It’s not that,” You gulp, dreading thoughts as you transform into a floppy mermaid. Your eyes widen, as Peter try’s to take it all in.

Peter runs to the door to lock it, he breathing heavy with you freaking out a bit.

“What?” Peter flaps his arms, “How is this even possible?” His eyes widen as he whispers to you.

“Are you even real?” He waves his arms out to you, he sits next to you try to calm down.

“Peter, it’s ok. Try to breath sweetheart,” You shift your tail, taking his hand and stroking his strands just as he did you.

Peter looks up into your gorgeous eyes, his breathing going back to calm in and out breaths. He thinks about his secret, how you must feel the same way. Having no one know is really hard!

Peter closes his eyes as he leans into your chest with only a shell bra on. He wraps his strong, tone arms around your waist because you give him so much comfort and Warmth.

Your shocked at how he only freaked out a little bit, didn’t even run out of the door. Peter instead came closer to you, better yet cuddling into you.

“Are you ok? Now Petey,” You whisper, gently stroking his forehead.

“Mm,” he nods, “Are you?”

“Yes,” You kiss his forehead, feeling blessed.

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me and you can do that again,” Peter smiles, looking up with a dazed face.

You now transformed back to human because your dry, no water on you.

“Peter Parker your something different,” you laugh stating, kissing his forehead again. He smiles at your loving gesture.

“Maybe because I am,” He whispers, teasing you right into your ear. Knowing full well he is definitely a different breed, now because of that radioactive spider.

“Show me,” You tease back, Curious at what Peter could be hiding.

“Do you really want to know,” Peter smirks, teasing back again.

“Oh, my Peter! I’m a fucking mermaid, what could you possibly be that is worse?” You hushed him, shaking your head laughing.

“But honestly, please show me,” You say bringing him back down with you. Looking him into his eyes, seeing his warm, brown eyes melt into yours was a blessing.

You take your chances and kiss him right on the lips as he kind of lays on top of you. Peter is taken back by the kiss but quickly deepens it, pulling you up to sit with him.

You pull apart breathless, blinking still gazed at your actions towards one another.

“I, I like you, Y/N and, and if you don’t like me that’s fine..” Peter rambled on, only you cutting him off again with a another kiss to shut him up.

“Pete, please stop stressing, you too blessed! And I do like you back, otherwise I wouldn’t of kissed you first sweetheart,” You breathed out, having your arms around his neck.

Peter’s arms slip around your waist, through this intense moment you both break a smile. Softening up the moment, You kiss passionately as both of your hands are all over the other.

Only stopping your make out session with

“Dinner, Peter and Y/N,” May half shouts since thin walls and all.

You look up blushing, Peter pulling you up kissing your cheek.

“Do You want to be my girlfriend?” Peter sweetly, asked biting his lip.

“Yes, boyfriend,” You kisses his cheek as you walk out the door to dinner.

“Ok, girlfriend,” Peter whispers more to himself, following you.

Peter’s secret long forgotten through out the chaos but not for long. Not that Peter didn’t want to tell you, especially since he was the reason you revealed yours.

Peter loves you just the way you are, Mermaid or not! He will be Supporting and protecting you every step of the way.

🧋

Bonus scene… You finding out Peter’s Secret after dinner.

Being 9pm and you had to be back by 10:30 at the latest, you had about an hour to spend more with Peter.

You still haven’t forgot about earlier, before dinner when Peter said something about his own secret.

You rush into his room to hide under his covers, giggling as you feel his arms tickling you.

“Stop,” you laugh, turning, “I can’t take it.”

Peter stops, to climb in with you until..

“Wait, Pete,” You say, standing up taking his hand looking directly at him in his eyes. 

“Yes, Darling,” You blush at the pet name, Peter taking your hand into his, “what is it?”

“Um, what is your secret?” You smile, curious.

“My secret,” Peter scratched the back of neck, looking the other way.

You must admit it is embarrassing showing someone something to someone, even if they are close.

“Hey, it’s ok. You don’t even have to show or tell me. I’m not going to pressure you, just because my secret accidentally came out, ok?” You Comfort him, rubbing his hands.

“No, no it’s ok. I want you to know Darling, it’s not just because I know your secret but it is only fair! I want you to know because it is apart of me like yours,” Peter smiles, hugging you.

You smile feeling his body heat engulf you, brining butterflies up to your tummy. If feels like your flying into the sky, it is such a truly amazing feeling to feel inside you.

“Ok, I’m ready. Just try not to freak out,” Peter nervously, gives you a grin.

You nod understanding he has compassion and confidence in himself, which is good!

“I’m spider-man,” Peter whispers, breathing out slowly as you hear.

“Oh ok,” your eyes widen, “That is great,” you smile, proud of him.

“I can do many cool tricks too, I’ll show you,” He sticks to the ceiling, crawling along it.

“Woah, that is Fabulous,” You giggle, “That isn’t all, sweet pea,” Peter winks at you.

“I can shoot webs from this web fluid that I made in class, these web shooters I have on my wrist projects it,” Peter shows you the movement as a web sticks to the wall.

“Um,” Peter thinking, “Oh also I have this cool sixth sense, it’s called spidery sense I can sense danger, emotions that are high,” Peter explains trying to be clear.

“So a Peter tingle?” You laugh, Peter groans.

“What?” You ask curiously, petting his head.

“Nothing, just that my aunt May calls it that too!” Peter chuckles, “I sometime love it but then don’t,”

“Oh, your aunt knows?”

“Yh, um Ned knows too! He’s a guy in the chair, which is cool. Mj knows because things lead to one another and she kinda figured it out,” Peter awkwardly, smiled at that memory. 

“Makes sense, you guys are really close friends.” You smile back.

“I have my senses hyped up, for example my hearing. I can hear further away, my smell stronger. You get the thing of it,”

“Well, thank you for telling me,” You smile pulling him for another hug.

“Your welcome, I guess our secrets both came out together.” Peter chuckles, “Yes,” you say.

You can tell him more about yourself being a mermaid with your power and special necklace next time.

Instead of telling, you decide to leave that for another adventurous day. Adoring each other as You and Peter cuddle a whole lot more into each other’s embrace.

Everything comes out from the under the waves eventually, from Secrets to feelings to even more secrets!!! 

Peter ends up swinging you home like a good boyfriend because it’s far too late for you to walk. 

Tucked under your bed, Peter doing the same as he gets home. You both think of the other as you drift off to sleep, peacefully.

Until it’s dreading another day of school, when you wake up!





#peter parker imagine #tom peter parker #peter parker fluff #secrets revealed #spider man #tom holland #tom holland fandom #tomhollandfan #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #lovers #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #mermaidreader

[viasbutterflies]

Small Town Goddesses

"Do you believe in God?" Her tawny eyes aren't looking at me, instead fixed on the sky, the wispy clouds as they dance across the open expanse of blue.

"No," I reply, looking up at the sky to see what captivates her attention.

All I see are the rolling white clouds and the light blue world. It's bright. The sun is setting slowly, casting long afternoon shadows through the land around us. If I wanted to, I could probably stand at eye level with it while it drops below the horizon. There are a few good mountain peaks around town that would offer that kind of vantage point.

The wind rustles the leaves of the trees around us; They are shaking under the force of the gale. Sometimes I like to pretend that the trees are friends with the mountains, and the wind is jealous of their relationship, interrupting their calm conversations with wild vigor. 

Other times the trees are just trees, and I curse myself for being so invested in the musings of the world around me.

"Why not?"

"Why not what?" I turn to look at Leah, meeting her gaze head-on with my own. The wind takes her hair and whips it into her face, strands getting caught on the sticky pink lip gloss sheen of her lips. I was surprised when I saw her at school today, wearing her long auburn hair down instead of up for once. It was casually messy, waving down her back like fall waves you away from the summer. It backfires now, as she tucks it back behind her ear for the fifteenth time in a minute.

She shrugs at me, a careless, graceful lift of a shoulder. "Why don't you believe in God," Her question falls flat, and her voice drops low, as though it's something she shouldn't even say aloud.

I drop my gaze from hers, scuffing at the ground with my shoe. When we skipped class to come out here, this is not where I envisioned our conversation going. Of course, I didn't imagine we'd be having much conversation at all.

"Valerie?" She prompts me.

"I guess I didn't grow up like that," I start, quiet.

Leah snorts, gesturing around us at the great rolling hills of nothing. "How else is there to grow up out here?" I assume she refers to the five churchs that claim our small towns worship, and I offer a half-hearted laugh.

"I don't know. With the cows?"

Leah giggles, covering her mouth demurely with one hand.

I sigh, turning my face back to the clouds. The sky is tinged pink, golden and glowing with the fading light of the sun. The air is crisp and cool, and the wind makes me shiver. The feeling of Leah's hand lightly sliding up my back makes me shiver more, a full-bodied shudder rocking it's way down my body.

"No, I guess... I don't believe in God because I don't believe one person could create all this.

"Not even one God could create all this."

The world is silent around me, golden hour painting the trees with faint brushstrokes of orange. The early Autumn night is calm and sweet and cool, and we've been out here for hours now, just existing in each others company.

Leah opens and closes her mouth next to me, trying to come up with a response to that.

The tall prairie grass brushes my bare legs, and I watch a moth flutter away from the forest behind us. I turn to look at Leah, only to find her watching the sky with pursed lips, as though the God I don't believe in would fly down and explain it to her.

"But... how could you not believe in God when things like that-" she gestures to the sky, the clouds I've been glancing over this whole time. "Show up every day?"

I look up again, narrowed eyes surveying the sunset with a critical gaze.

Amidst the rolling waves of pink, fluffy clouds is what looks like the visage of an angel, floating with her arms outstretched. The cloud that makes her up is tinted orange from the fading sunlight, and the bottom half of her is trailing off as the wind whips her around, fading behind her like a tail. A soft whisp of a cloud rests above her head, a circled halo of soft orange blending with the sky.

"Oh," I murmur.

"Yeah," Leah breathes next to my ear, her exhale ghosting over my forehead like an untimely breeze. I shiver next to her, and turn to watch the sunset capture her profile in soft golden light.

"Leah?" I whisper.

She hums, eyes fixed on the sky. I want those eyes fixed on me. 

"Can I kiss you now?"

She startles, standing ramrod straight and whipping around to face me. The wind is at her back now, blowing her hair around her face and into her eyes. And mine, if I were to get close enough.

"Can you- I- what?" Her mouth drops open wide, and her face flushes with childlike excitment. Or at least, I hope it's excitment.

I can feel my own blush threatening to creep up the back of my neck and caress the tips of my ears, so I exhale quickly and lock eyes with her.

I was surprised she didn't know what I meant when I asked her to skip class with me, but she went willingly, and now I can say we at least went on a date before I kissed her. 

Well. It certainly felt like a date.

"Can I kiss you?"

Leah stares at me still, shocked and almost concerned, before her face contorts into something like determination.

"Ok."

I blink once, surprised, before suddenly there are lips bending down to meet mine and Leah- my best friend, my corny Spanish class study partner, my partner in crime, is kissing me.

She kisses me.

It takes me an agonizingly long second to kiss her back, but when I do, I hear her breath hitch.

I curl a hand into her unruly waves of hair, and one of hers slips down to the small of my back. Her lips are soft against mine, and my shirt burns against my skin with unprecedented fever.

When she tangles my tongue in hers, I dare to believe that maybe, just maybe she's wanted this just as bad as I have.

When we walk towards home, hand in hand, hair rats-nested on our heads, my lips swollen where they brushed hers, I dare to believe that maybe, she wants to see where this could go as badly as I do.

When she leaves a soft kiss across my cheek before she says goodbye, I see the light.

I may not believe in God, but I know a Goddess when I see one.

#i wrote this in an hour #On zenpen #Great website go check it out #So it’s probably not GREAT #But also like #enjoy the lesbian fluff for what it is #Lesbians #original writing #original story #original work #writing #creative writing #writer #writeblr #breaking my writers block #love #Religion #athiest #im still a lesbian athiest #Cows mentioned #I love cows #and women #writing viasol

[spaceoddy]

excepts from fics i’ll never write: titanic au

- -

The Milky Way smiles down them, twinkling like dancing lights in a clear sky that blends into the Atlantic waters on the midnight horizon. The scenery — in its vast blackness — fills Peter with serenity. Casually, he rises onto his tiptoes, over a row of lifeboats, and stares off into the beautiful unknown.

He gazes longingly, foolishly wondering if the waves crashing against Titanic will blink before he does. Of course not, but the edges of Peter's eyes run teary against the wind before he surrenders.

"Whatcha thinking 'bout?"

Harley's sugary voice draws Peter back to reality, if for a moment. He trades idealized thoughts for uncomfortable realizations. While his mind races to reply, the realization dawns on Peter that he can't remember the last time someone inquired about what he thinks.

"Just..." Peter trails off, resigned eyes magnetized to the first-class entrance behind Harley: the gateway to the suffocating lions' den, the signal that their fairytale evening has ended. Elegant strings of violins echo off the walls, screeching like trapped steam against Peter's ears.

Finally, Peter swallows the lump in his throat. "I don't want to go back," he confesses with a defeated shrug. A half-hearted laugh slips out as well. Peter barely triumphs over his reluctance and shimmies off Harley's heavy jacket. He hands it back to Harley.

While folding the jacket over his arm, Harley casually says, "don't."

Peter recoils; he toys with his earlobe, doubting his own hearing. A hundred responses threaten to burst off his tongue. Scoffs, protests, idyllic contemplations — they all stand at attention.

Incapable of choosing his words, Peter aims his eyes back to the stars. Perhaps it's a deflection, yet Peter can't help sighing. Ultimately, yearning is what spills from his lips. "It's so beautiful," he whispers, awestruck.

Harley nods. "Sure is." Both boys crane their heads upward; Peter leans against the railing while Harley spins around a davit. Harley points to a cluster of stars, and Peter follows the tip of Harley's calloused finger to a constellation he knows all too well. "They call that one, uh..."

"Orion," Peter says.

Harley smiles. "Yeah, yeah. That's it."

Peter chuckles, almost to himself. "My Uncle Ben... he knew all of the constellations." A splash of melancholy dries Peter's throat, though he perseveres. "I found it so impressive how easily he'd identify them, but he told me it was only man's way of coping with how small we are."

Harley raises an eyebrow, intrigued.

" 'Our crowd,' " Peter says, deepening his voice to imitate the timbre of the man he misses dearly. " 'We think ourselves giants...' " Peter trails off and toys with the rope wrapped around the davit. "But we're not even dust in God's eye."

Harley catches how Peter finishes the thought in his own voice. The hint of a smirk tickles the corner of his lips. "There's been a mistake; you're not one of ‘em."

When Peter tilts his head in confusion, Harley playfully pokes his finger into Peter's chest. "You got mailed to the wrong address."

Peter throws his head back and laughs, ignoring the sweaty strands of hair that stick to his glistening forehead. "I did, didn't I?"

Suddenly, a glimmer in the sky catches Peter's eye. He stares up, awestruck as he points to the tail of a soaring comet. "Look! A shooting star!"

Harley breaks his intimate gaze on Peter to catch the star as it dashes above them. "Wow," he draws out an impressed whistle. It seems Peter's sentimentality is contagious. "Y'know, my ma told me every time you see a shooting star, a good soul's flyin' up to Heaven."

"I like that," Peter smiles. "Might be why we wish on them."

Wishes.

Once upon a time, Harley's mind ran wild with them. Hopes and dreams and prayers that the universe might play in his favor. Now, he knows better. Change and action come from within. But Peter? The sparkles in his chocolate eyes tell Harley that he holds on to quixotic ideals of fate and happy endings.

Maybe they can meet somewhere in the middle.

Harley pierces the space between them. His dry, cracked hands work up the courage to stroke Peter's soft jaw. He expects Peter to push him away, but the younger boy freezes, content in this moment. Just above a whisper, Harley asks, "what would you wish for?"

Peter's eyes dance around Harley's pale face. In the span of seconds, he lives an entire life of freedom. He pictures every dream and whim he's too frightened to entertain. In all of them, Harley is by his side.

A nameless figure pulls open the door to the first class lounge, and the chorus of strings and shallow chatter spills out like a raging tidal wave. Peter's hopes are dashed when reality yanks him back down to earth, crudely reminding him of where he belongs, despite all his resistance.

Finally, he wraps his hand around Harley's and slowly pulls it off his face. He looks down, too ashamed to maintain eye contact when he speaks. "Something I can't have..."

Peter squeezes through the narrow gap between Harley's frame and the railing. Desperate to hide his plummeting heart, he grumbles out an injured, "goodnight, Harley," and scurries back to first class — back to suffocating familiarity.

Harley calls after him, but the door bangs shut, dividing their worlds once again.

#parkner #parkner fic #peter parker #harley keener #my writing

[keyleth-clay]

I was planning on doing this on this coming Saturday, but then I realized that there’s a non-zero chance of getting at least one of these this week, so I figured I’d better do it sooner rather than later.

Also, in case it isn’t clear by now, I’m doing these 30% because it’s fun and I want to, and 70% because if/when they do happen, I can have this in writing and therefore have bragging rights.

KC’s Top 5 CR Player Character Classes Wishlist

(Note that this says “classes” and not “subclasses”. The options on the list should make it clear why, but also I Don’t Actually Know DnD That Well, and don’t have particularly strong opinions re: subclasses.)

Number 1. Literally Any Artificer. There’s been exactly 1 player character artificer in all of Critical Role, and that was Taryon way back in campaign 1. We only got him for 15 episodes, he rarely actually gets included as a member of Vox Machina (even though he absolutely is, dammit), and back then artificers were still Unearthed Arcana. I was SO sure that we’d be getting one in EXU: Calamity, but things didn’t work out that way. Also I just think they’re cool.

Number 2. Literally Any Ranger. Fun Fact: There have only been two player character rangers in all of Critical Role. Vex’ahlia in campaign 1, and Sam Riegel in Liam’s Quest parts 1 & 2. I know Rangers in 5e are Not Great, but there’s some really cool stuff depending on subclass choice. Swarmkeeper, Horizon Walker, Fey Wanderer – there’s so many really cool & creative options. It mostly just boggles my mind that there have been so few of them, across main campaigns and mini-series and one-shots, despite being a core 5e class.

Number 3. Monk (but not Way of the Four Elements). In a very similar vein, there have only been a handful of player character monks. Beau, Farriwen, and Fy’ra Rai are the only monk PCs in Exandria canon, two of which are genasi Way of the Four Elements monks and the other of whom is a homebrew subclass. The only others are Marisha in Liam’s Quest (no subclass given), The Headmistress in CelebriD&D and D&Deisel (no subclass given), and Mezzek in the goblins Pathfinder one-shot from way back when.

There are so many other cool monk subclasses to explore, and while I know that we just had a monk as a main campaign character, that hasn’t stopped them from having a barbarian and a rogue and at least one cleric in every main campaign party. Also Liam would rock Way of the Long Death or Way of Mercy, and you know it.

Number 4. Any Blood Hunter that isn’t Order of the Lycan. Have you figured out the theme of this top 5 yet? :p

But seriously. There have been six player character blood hunters so far, and five of them have been Order of the Lycan (Tova, Chetney, Portia, Benicio, Lawrence). Thank all the gods for Mollymauk Tealeaf for at least attempting to be an Order of the Ghostslayer. I certainly don’t begrudge Travis his manic pixie werewolf dreams, but some variety would be nice, y’know? I’d particularly like to see somebody play an Order of the Mutant, but I’d be fine with any of the other three subclasses.

Number 5. Lingering Soul. Very shortly after I started watching Critical Role, I found out about the plethora of homebrew stuff that Matt has up on DMs Guild. Of course, I purchased and read through all of it, and of course I immediately loved the Lingering Soul class/post-death option that he created. I know it’s a really tricky thing to try to work into a campaign, and it’s something that he’s barely talked about (pretty much everything else of his on DMG has been used by either a player character or an NPC). Right after Molly died in C2, Taliesin was asked on Talks Machina if he would bring him back as a Lingering Soul, but he chose not to. I just… really fucking wanna see someone play this it’s so fucking cool.

DIShonourable mention goes to yet another fucking fighter or rogue. Across campaigns, mini-series, and one-shots, there have been 23 rogue player characters and 19 fighters. I have no problem with either of them, but holy shit pick something else.

#kc speaks #Critical Role #CR Cast #kc's top five

[pattysplaceofplaces]

Heart Ache is SO PRETTY!! I really like her backstory, and their dynamic with Carmen is so interesting to me. That makes me wonder- did Heart Ache interact much with Carmen on the island? What was their first meeting like? Why does Heart Ache continue to stay with VILE if they respect Carmen? What do they disagree with Carmen on morally?

Im also interested to know more about her and Dash! How does she know him? Do they get assigned on capers together through the countess? Were they in the same class at the academy? Will she drag him into playing her video games?

Im just so intrigued!

-Anon 1

AHHHHH I’m so excited about all these questions!

Heart Ache is one of those people who likes to talk with everyone, she’s the extrovert that adopts introverts. When Carmen was Black Sheep I wouldn’t say they were friends but they did get along because of their laidback personalities and often joked around.

In the future Heart Ache isn’t on team Carmen or anything. They aren’t friends or enemies I guess. Both of them understand that it’s just business and they don’t have any bad blood because of that. I’d say there are times where their fights get much more serious when something more is at stake. So yeah they aren’t really friends but don’t hate each other. Their relationship constantly changes between: “It’s just our jobs.” And, “Oh my god I hate your guts.”

When it comes to disagreements and differences of their morals I’d say that Heart Ache chooses to be oblivious, they don’t think or plan about the future much like Carmen does. They just want to have fun! It’s not like they are going to see the lives they are ruining so why does it matter! It doesn’t!….Right? Heart Ache isn’t a bad person by nature but they want to be. It would be easier to not care about other people. Guilty? She’s not guilty! She’s free! Her story when you look in depth isn’t a very happy one. Having Countess Cleo as a mother figure wasn’t a happy ending for her. She was a confused child, a dumb teenager. Dumb teenagers need to make the right kind of mistakes that help them grow. She didn’t get that leisure, she was forced into something more. They are torn between two ideals they have been taught. There’s a lot she has lost and she isn’t able to get any of it back, especially when it comes to time. She’s not evil, she’s not good, she’s lost. They have only made it so far because they don’t actually know they are lost.

But on a lighter note! Dash Haber! Heart Ache can feel love, sympathy, empathy even if she likes to pretend she doesn’t. At first she was all “don’t do love” before she met Dash. Both being understudies of Cleo they were bound to meet eventually. I don’t believe it was love at first sight. Maybe they were even jealous of each other!

“So this is the person Countess Cleo was talking about?”

I’d say they make great operative partners though because of their qualities. Dash Haber is very passive, he’s someone who works behind the scenes and doesn’t do the best with confrontation seen in the episode where he gets his new weapon. After ShadowSan is able to stop him from using it he runs away. Heart Ache is head strong and her stubbornness dulls her fear. Dash helps broaden her horizon and help her look at things from a logical standpoint, he can also calm her down when she does get overwhelmed. Heart Ache is able to help him when it comes to combat, she motivates him to fight and pushes him forward when he starts to panic.

Both of them are very charismatic but absolutely terrible and inexperienced when it comes to love. Dash was scared of the confrontation and Heart Ache wanted to pretend those feelings weren’t there because she thought it would slow her down and make Cleo disappointed in her. I’d say they probably confessed to each other when they thought themselves to be in a life threatening situation.

Yes she will definitely force him to play video games! “I have to read your boring books, you can play a little bit of Metroid.” She also believes it will help him with his hand-eye coordination which is something he needs to work on if he continues using his new weapon.

I hope this helped you learn more about her!

#Carmen Sandiego #carmen sandeigo 2019 #Carmen Sandiego oc #Anon 1 #We love Anon 1 #I ramble again #All about my oc

[certainlysyko]

okay okay okay but?? music recommendations??

I had a long ass post with a bunch of links but Tumblr is a biotch so here's a basic ass list with my top songs

My music taste is pretty diverse, but mostly delves on the hard rock/ metalcore side. This isn't everything but its what I listen to on a daily basis more often than not.

I'm a huge music girly; My neurodivergence comes out I swear. I'm very particular about my music but also not at all, if that makes sense. I like music that tells a story. I don't mind the genre (most of the time) so needless to say I don't understand rave culture but to each their own haha.

ANYWAYS

Bad Omens - broken youth, exit wounds, feral, the worst in me, kingdom of cards, dethrone, the hell I overcame, burning out, said & done, IDWT$, what do you want from me?, just pretend, the grey, like a villain, the death of peace of mind, bad decisions, artificial suicide

The Band Camino - damage, 1 last cigarette, what am I missing?, save my life, same page, novocaine, three month hangover, see through

Beartooth - after all, clever, you never know, keep your American dream, the lines, beaten in lips, I have a problem, might love myself, sunshine!, the surface, doubt me, my new reality

Bring Me The Horizon - all of it. I'm not playing games right now.

CORPSE - see: bring me the horizon

Dayseeker - without me, burial plot, quicksand, neon grave, dream state, sleeptalk, parallel, drunk, crooked soul, homesick

A Day To Remember - 1958, you should have killed me when you had the chance, you had me @ hello, the plot to bomb the panhandle, monument, heartless, since u been gone, a shot in the dark, the entire homesick album, the entire what separates me from you album, the entire common courtesy album, paranoia, we got this, same about you, bloodsucker, resentment, only money, degenerates, permanent

Eminem - lol he's the king so if I have to give you recs of him there's an issue

ERRA - pull from the ghost, diversionary, gungrave, pale iris, cure, blue reverie, skyline, drift, snow blood, vanish canvas, sol absentia, nigh to silence, breach, unify

Halsey - without me, nightmare, I am not a woman I'm a god, sorry, eyes closed, 3am, you should be sad, die 4 me, the tradition, 1121, so good, alone, bad at love, strangers, girl is a gun, the lighthouse, colors

Harry Styles - see: discography. put one direction in there too

I Prevail - bad things, gasoline, bow down, doa, there's fear in letting go, body bag, deep end, paranoid, breaking down, let be sad, low, scars, stuck in your head, come and get it, alone, lifelines, chaos

I See Stars - anomaly, are we 3ven?, murder mitten, calm snow, running with scissors, break, white lies, yellow king, drift

Jack Harlow - way out, heavy hitter, rotten, lovin on me, I wanna see some ass, first class, already best friends, poison, nail tech, Tyler herro, out front, goin back down

Knocked Loose - deep in the willow, counting worms, blinding faith, god knows, deadringer

Machine Gun Kelly - everything. EST till I die.

Matchbox Twenty - real world, push, unwell, don't get me wrong

Mayday Parade - jaime all over stay, jersey, anywhere but here, first train, I can only hope, when I get home you're so dead, three cheers for five years, ghosts, girls, hold onto me, oh well oh well, when you see my friends, call me hopeless not romantic

Michael Buble - lost, everything, haven't met you yet, hold on, home, sway, nobody but me, its a beautiful day, come your eyes, to be loved, I got it easy

Motionless In White - another life, sign of life, werewolf, slaughterhouse, BFBTG: corpse nation, scoring the end of the world, voices, America, immaculate misconception, masterpiece

Queen - again, if I have to give you queen recs, there's something wrong.

Rod Stewart - forever young, have you ever seen the rain, downtown train, the first cut is the deepest, it's a heartache, you're in my heart, Maggie may, have I told you lately, hot legs

Sleep Token - rain, alkaline, chokehold, the summoning, the night does not belong to god, ascentionism, the apparition, DYWTYLM, take me back to eden, Euclid

Taylor Swift - listen, that is my queen and my entire childhood. speak now & 1989 are my fav albums but folklore is also *chefs kiss*

Too Close To Touch - RIP KEATON 😢 - eiley, before I cave in, sympathy, nerve endings, novocaine, hopeless, control, miss your face, what a shame, pretty little thing, restless, hell to pay, until I collapse

Wage War - manic, stitch, hollow, the rover, relapse, godspeed, if tomorrow never comes, prison, me against myself, low

#music recommendation #carlile speaks #asks

[writingspacetrash]

Go Back

2,629 words

Although this wasn’t technically a dump, an unpleasant smell permeated the scrapyard. A thin mist smelling of metal, grime and oil hung in the air, her shoes already sooty as if she’d walked through ashes. The sun was barely visible through Eglys’ thick clouds. The entire moon was covered in the city of the same name – the Vars 3 system had agreed to place its capital here about two-hundred years ago – and with very few parks and gardens, the entire place was polluted by smog and and particulate matter from the thousands of vehicles moving through its streets. Everyone had to wear a gas mask outside because of the air pollution. Unfortunately, Zoe’s didn’t block out the smell of the scrapyard. 

She let her gaze trail over the shining grey landscape, reaching to a dark line on the horizon she could identify as apartment buildings. 

"What are we looking for again?" she called. About ten metres ahead of her, Martyn rose out of a trash hill. His long, brown coat was just as dirty as Zoe's shoes, the little free skin of his face oily from the grime. He was wearing goggles which made him look like a giant insect, and a self-built gas mask which didn’t even look that bad, Zoe had to confess. His short, dark hair was standing up in all directions, thickened by the polluted air. 

“Are you serious?” he called back. Zoe shrugged.

“Sorry?” Martyn’s shoulders sagged a little.

“A type three Krekil Key. About five centimetres long, sort of bent like this.” He scrunched his finger. Zoe nodded and looked around her, twenty centimetres deep in scrap. “Yeah, absolutely, we’ll find that, no doubt,” she muttered to herself. She picked up a metal rod, too long at the second glance. 

“What exactly can you do with a Krekil Key?” she asked as she threw the rod back into the mess.

“Shove it up your ass?” came the muffled answer from out of the trash hill. 

“Haha, very funny.” A few noisy crashes followed as Martyn waded away hastily from the now collapsing trash hill.

“It’s used in various ships as a connector, and Harral has run out so the scrapyard’s gotta give.” Zoe nodded. That was as much as she understood of engineering.

“We need to finish repairing that ship tomorrow, the customer has already checked in twice last week.” 

“Nosy customer.” Martyn straightened up again and nodded enthusiastically.

“Oh my God we have so many of them. They come in looking at the open ships all squinting and then they click their tongue and are like ‘Yeah um my Staryacht 2000 crashed yesterday but we’re throwing this huge party tomorrow so I want it done by tonight. 100 credits’ or ‘I only asked for my gravity stabiliser to be fixed, why did you also change the seatbelts’ when there’s literally safety laws to prevent injury and death with certain stabilisers and we have to build in those seatbelts, sorry Jayla.” Martyn threw his hands in the air, frustrated. “I swear to God there’s so many fucking complaints about seatbelts, I mean do these people have nothing better to do?!” Zoe clasped a hand over her mouth and nodded, trying to hold in  a laugh, but Martyn noticed. He sighed. He looked like a giant insect. Zoe snorted.

“I am telling you about the hardships of my working-class life in the most overpopulated city in Vars 3 and you’re laughing.” Zoe sniffed.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I can see that.” Zoe took a deep breath and Martyn shook his head, returning to his search. “Anything new with you, then?” he asked.

“Oh, heh,” she said as her hand wandered absent-mindedly to her new belt. “Nothing much. Joined a boy band.” Martyn turned his head to her, expression unreadable behind his goggles.

“A what?”

“A boy band. You know, a band but only boys?” Martyn opened his mouth, then closed it again and went back to searching the scrapyard. 

“Makes total sense.”

“Yeah, I thought it was a dumb idea at first too, but I’ve played a few shows with them, and really, they’re quite cool. I think we’re gonna go a long way.” She grinned.

“I see you on the Interstellar Stage in Yechtera already,” he said sarcastically. “With your overwhelming musical talents.” Zoe gasped in mock offence. “I am an active and valued member of the Cosmos Boys, okay?” Martyn snorted at the name. “Cosmos Boys!” he wheezed. Zoe shook her head. “You just can’t appreciate the arts.”

“I think it’s something about the Cosmos Boys in particular.”

Zoe stayed silent in the face of this blatant disrespect of her art and began looking for the Krekil Key again. She took a few steps and squatted down, digging through the metal pieces with her gloved fingers. A glassy clinking caught her attention. She dug into the trash to find the object that had made the strange noise, and picked up something not too dissimilar to her own wristwatch/communicator. Its dial window was cracked, the black dial within showed three subdials, not illuminated. The leathery strap was half ripped off. She pressed the crown gently. The subdials flashed to life, each showing three rows of zeros. 

“Hey, uh, Martyn?” she called, not lifting her gaze off the curious watch. “I think I found something. Not the Key.” She heard crashing and cracking as Martyn approached. He yanked the watch out of her hand. She wanted to protest, but Martyn had lifted his goggles and was looking at the watch with such bewilderment, the protest died in her throat.

“What the fuck is that, Zoe?” he said.

“Not that I know.”

“Is that… no.” He held the device even closer to his face. By now he shouldn’t even be able to see it. He shook his head.

“No. Absolutely not. I’m taking this to Harral, we’re destroying it. Or giving it to the authorities, I don’t know.” He was starting to scare Zoe.

“What do you think it is?” Martyn’s eyes darted to her and back to the device again.

“Time travel.” 

Zoe’s eyes widened as her anxiety turned into excitement. A grin was spreading across her face.

“No way.”

“Yes way.” She reached for it but Martyn stuffed it in his pocket. “Nope. No one is touching this until it’s safe or destroyed.” Zoe’s mouth gaped.

“Oh, come on! You can’t be serious!”

“I’m pretty sure the law is.” Zoe sighed loudly.

“Yeah, the law. Do you know how far the law reaches? Not past this size D moon.” Martyn frowned.

“No, the law forbidding time travel was issued galaxy-wide.” Zoe rolled her eyes. She hadn’t known that. Not that it mattered much.

“It’s time travel!”

“Exactly! Do you know how much damage even the slightest change to time can do?”

“No one knows that.”

“That’s the problem! I read this book about spacetime and paradoxes and-” Zoe pursed her lips while Martyn was going on a rant about the dangers of time travel. An idea struck her and she pointed over Martyn’s shoulder.

“Police!” she shouted. Martyn’s head jerked around and she reached in his pocket, fishing out the device. Martyn turned back to her with a dark expression.

“I can’t believe I fell for that.”

“Hehe,” said Zoe and enclosed the device in her fist. Martyn looked at her fist and all his life’s choices seemed to flash before his eyes. 

“I’m not even going to try to take that from you.” Zoe grinned at him and opened her hand to look at the device. She tried turning the crown and, et voilà, the first row of zeros counted up.

“I am assuming that’s for the year,” she said.

“You’re going to get us both killed,” Martyn muttered. Zoe turned the crown until it matched the current year. Then she pressed it at a venture and the second row of zeros flashed. 

“Date.”

“The universe is going to implode.” Zoe set the last subdial to their current time, which proved difficult at first because she had to remember the Yechtaran system using only three digits to describe time down to the second.

“Don’t worry, I’ll only jump ten seconds into the future,” she said. Martyn looked at her more annoyed than worried. She knew that meant he was really worried.

“It’s in a scrapyard. Why would a fully functioning time travel device end up in a scrapyard?” Zoe shrugged.

“Why would an active and valued member of the Cosmos Boys end up in a scrapyard?” Martyn closed his eyes. “I hate you.” Zoe grinned.

“Seeya in ten seconds!” She pressed the crown again and zapped out of existence.

~

Non-existence felt like nothing, really. It was the only thing it could’ve felt like, when Zoe thought about it later. It felt like eternity and no time at all. It felt like something fell out of her pocket. No, not something. Everything.

When she existed again, the sun was setting and her palms were burning with pain. She cursed and let the device fall on the ground, closing her hands to fists. 

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck,” she hissed as the burning slowly began to fade. She opened them carefully and found that the skin was entirely intact, looking even cleaner and healthier than before. There was a slight glow to them. She pulled a face and stuffed them in her pockets.

The scrapyard didn’t look much different. After all, this had to be the exact same place – there had been no setting for space coordinates. But a metre from her, a brown lump lay in the scrap that hadn’t been there yesterday. She prodded it with her foot. A muffled yelp emerged from one of its ends. The lump unfurled and turned out to be an ashen-faced Martyn. His reddened eyes widened as if he’d seen an angel.

“Holy shit, Zoe,” he gasped. “I thought I’d never see you again.” Zoe’s instinct to laugh faded from her gut when she saw how deeply disturbed Martyn looked. 

“Sorry,” she said, and meant it. “How long has it been?” 

“Only a day.” Zoe raised her eyebrows.

“A day? You freaked out over a day?” 

“You could’ve been lost somewhere in the vortex, I don’t know!? Give me a break!” Zoe gave him a hand instead and helped him up. His knees seemed to be slightly unwilling.

“Jesus, have you slept here?” Martyn shrugged.

“I didn’t know when you’d return and I thought, if you did, maybe you’d be injured or something or wouldn’t find back or I don’t know…” he trailed off. Zoe was taken aback at how shaken he was. She wanted to say something, more than sorry, but he started fishing through his pockets. His eyebrows knitted together. 

“I found something. Immediately after you left. Maybe it’s a side-effect of time travel.” He held out a jewel Zoe only knew all too well. She had looked at it a couple of times since she’d found it and had grown quite immune to all that Death isn’t real, Time is an illusion stuff. Martyn however had screwed his eyes shut and was holding the jewel as far away from him as he could.

“Oh, no, that’s just something I found.” Martyn squinted at her.

“Where the hell did you find that?” 

“On that planet in Kryx, you know, where I crashed?” Martyn’s mouth fell open.

“You took something from the planet that doesn’t exist and you didn’t tell me?” Zoe shrugged.

“I don’t have to tell you everything, you know.” 

“Zoe, sometimes I think you’re choosing to be oblivious. Not to certain things, just in general.” Zoe nodded slowly. She couldn’t really argue with that.

Martyn was studying the jewel with interest and horror.

“I’ve got to scan that with my instruments. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.” Zoe looked through the rubble for the time travel device. The case was broken, the glass of the subdials shattered. 

“I don’t think that’s gonna work anymore,” she said, a certain sadness resonating in her voice. Martyn threw it a glance.

“God, I’m relieved.” Zoe paid him no attention. 

“I feel like we shouldn’t just leave it here, though.” Martyn gave her a deadly look.

“Okay,” she said meekly and threw it back on the ground. Martyn shoved a heap of trash over it with his foot.

~

“Well, that’s interesting.” Martyn’s dry remark was almost drowned out by the high-pitched beeping, buzzing and whirring emanating from all of his scanning and reading machines at once. The jewel lay on an elevated glass plate, silver arms and red lasers flitting across its surface. It was driving all of Martyn’s investigative equipment insane. 

“Is it detecting anything at all?” asked Zoe. Martyn pointed to his ear and shook his head. Zoe repeated the question, shouting. Martyn shook his head again.

“It’s detecting everything,” he shouted back. Zoe scanned the monitors practically tiling the workshop’s basement. Every single reading was off the charts.

“What do you mean, everything?” Martyn shrugged, as puzzled as Zoe.

“Just, everything. Every single element, every particle, every energy ever. Even some things I don’t recognise.” He turned back to the jewel, adjusting the metal arms, but the readings didn’t change. Zoe tried to remember how exactly she had found the jewel. A shiver went down her spine when she remembered that creature in Kryx. Weirdly, she didn’t have a clue what it had looked like. Only that it could run really, really fast. She let the events that followed play through her mind, and frowned.

“Martyn?” she called. He nodded absent-mindedly. “Where did you get the Tonner from?” His shoulders sagged a little and he stopped typing on one of his computers. He didn’t turn to face her.

“Uh, I bought it. At an auction.” He failed to sound nonchalant.

“Ah, yes. An auction. Very interesting auction, to sell something exclusively produced in the monasteries of Rwdh.” Martyn now turned around, fidgeting with his coat. He was no longer wearing goggles or a gas mask, and there was serious regret on his face.

“Look, I went there because they’ve always got the coolest stuff down at Pucher’s, I’ve got some parts for my mask there, and there was this cute guy and he really wanted that ship but he didn’t have any money so I was like ‘I can get it till you can pay me back’ and he was really happy but at the end of the auction he was gone and I didn’t know what to do with the thing because I didn’t entirely know how it worked, only that it was a ‘Tonner’ and could ‘survive anything’, at least that’s what he told me, so I gave it to you, and I’m really sorry-” His rant was cut short when Zoe couldn’t suppress a grin anymore. Martyn’s expression turned sour immediately.

“You got a ship you didn’t know for a guy you didn’t know who disappeared and then thought ‘Yeah, let’s give this to my friend!’” Zoe snorted. “Amazing. You homosexual disaster.” Martyn crossed his arms. 

“I’m sorry that I thought if anyone could survive an unknown ship it was you.” Zoe put a hand over her heart.

“Aw. I’m touched. I also really want to know who that guy was.” Martyn sighed.

“Me too.” One of the monitors screeched and blacked out. Martyn cursed and went to check for the problem, though Zoe guessed it was just overwhelmed with the information from the jewel. It was kind of weird that it had fallen out of her pocket. It had been closed when she’d made the time jump.

“We need to find that planet,” she said into the room.

“And how do you want to do that?” asked Martyn. She shrugged.

“Go back?”

#girls idk what this is #martyn and zoe content. thats what this is. #and more on the jewel bc ive got very interesting things planned #but mostly just an update to keep up this habit #who am i kidding stranded and spare parts werent much different #my own writing #original writing #scifi #oc #creative writing #writblr #beginner writer #5

[psychicberry]

My ex boyfriend

Tuesday, December 6, 2022

I have two ex-boyfriends, but since humans of the male sex are all the same, I will refer to them as the same person. After a relationship has ended, I hate my ex-boyfriend. He is the worst person on planet earth and does not deserve happiness (hyperbole). Feigning hatred is easy, forgetting is harder. To cope, instead of trying to let go of every single part of them, I keep little pieces to myself. New Balance 550s, Playboi Carti, Maya Higa and Emiru, Komi Can't Communicate, cringe redditors, sour skittles. I don't like shoes, or female twitch streamers that are involved with Mizkif, or mumble rap. But I can't forget them. So I enjoy them, for me. Forgetting is hard. Especially when your best quality is your superb memory. One day I'll get over them. I'll forget, or I won't care. I'll make new hobbies, find new interests that are mine.

As the year comes to an end, I reflect on the past 12 months. Where I was a year ago: Flunking out of University, destitute, useless, directionless, hopeless. I failed. Hard. It has been hard to come to terms with that. Failure. I failed out of University. One of my worst fears in life is to make an irrevocable mistake. I can continue my academic pursuits. I can even go back to University. But I failed for two years straight. I took on thousands of dollars in loans. I made two friends. I had a lousy seven-month relationship with a half-white insecure inexperienced guy. And he broke up with me! God, what has my life come to? I haven't been able to process this because I didn't realize I felt that way. I didn't know there were greener pastures. I will get over it eventually. I have to keep succeeding. I have to see progress.

A new year is on the horizon. The year 2023 does not inspire many feelings within me. It's a mid year if I have ever seen one. Regardless, I see much progress, success, and happiness in 2023. I am hopeful. No, I am confident that I will prosper this year. I have been so low, the only way to go is up.

I want to be normal. I want to have hobbies. I want to take classes for fun and join community groups. I want to learn how to sing, play guitar, make pottery, make poetry, do yoga. A foundation has already been laid with reading, watching movies. I know I can do it, I just have to put my mind to it.

January inspires optimism. January is new. January is beginning. January is a chance to try again, a clean slate. I can't wait.

Thanks for reading,

EN

#giving it my best

[dungeonaspects]

Warforged Druid

"If you do not take the time to hear the birdsong, smell the pines, or feel the ground, what on earth is the point of living?"

The old world watches on at the inexorable march of time, the rise and fall of kingdoms, the structures built and the reclamation of the wilds. While not above interference, often it proves more hassle than it's worth since even a forest burnt to cinders will, of course, regrow vibrant and beautiful.

Yet something has stirred in the deepest recesses of nature, the unknowable force that guides all life has noticed something on the next horizon, the red star rises. For the first time in eons the powers that be reached out into the ether and found a soul that will retain the balance of life, the threat far greater than even the gods realise.

The soul was taken, softly, gently. The being it was had been washed away, the pure, innocent soul taken into the force of nature and given new purpose. The child was born of heartwood, the new bark as soft as fresh yew.

It stepped onto the fertile soil of the deepest forest, feeling the life beneath its feet, the birdsong reaching its ears, the scents of the trees on the breeze. It stumbled along the forest floor, watching the world in wonder, the sunbeams glistening through the canopy, the deer watching it curiously, snorting slightly as the child brushed over the fur completely unafraid.

The child doesn't know how long it wandered the forest, only that after the aimless walk and many cycles of light and dark it had grown taller, its bark now hard. It had met with dryads and satyr, learning some basic language and more ways of the forest.

It learned the ways of nature, to hunt, to live, to feel the will of the world in its purest form. It would live as each animal it saw until it learned everything it could, the wolves welcoming the strange biped as a member of their pack, the deer herd wary of the stranger until the child could walk among them without hesitation.

Once the child's understanding was great enough they could take on the form of each creature, something the child revelled in. Often it would exert itself to exhaustion trying to maintain the form of whatever animal it found itself captivated by at that time.

After so many cycles the child found itself on the outskirts of the forest, the familiar canopy vanishing above to show clear skies and gentle rolling hills. As it stared off into the wide open land a form stepped up beside it.

"There is so much to see out there little one, and I hope you see it all." Came a soft voice.

An ancient satyr stood stooped beside the child, a spear gripped firmly in their hand, they offered the spear to the child.

"A gift from myself, sung from the most ancient elder tree I know of." The satyr said, a slight quaver in their voice.

The child took the spear, it was light, the wooden edge of the blade keen, but the warmth of the haft comforted the child. Without looking back the child walked into the world, unaware of the satyr vanishing behind them, a single prismatic tear rolling down their cheek.

Some Ideas

With this character I felt that they should be innocent and wonderful, naïve about the world yet hardened by lessons few get to experience. I love druids but they become hard to channel their class when you need to investigate why a royal was assassinated when there's little link to nature etc.

With this character they are in tune with nature in a fundamental way but comes with an innate curiosity that can make them want to experience everything. They'll become a bounty hunter for the thrill of the hunt, slay a cult to be hailed a hero, solve a murder mystery because the mystery is so exciting.

Plus you can play them however you want, circle of stars as they observe the heavens, circle of the land (change the origin landscape to suit your chosen circle), circle of spores as the fungi sit within your wooden heart. I love circle of the moon myself but that's just my preference, I like the idea that the transformation also changes the form and nothing else, as in you have a living wood wolf or bird, feathers of leaves and claws of thorns.

In terms of wildshape I've always made sure my character and players spend time with the animal their trying to emulate, studying them, living with them. I dislike the idea, they saw a turtle once now they can be a turtle, get them to follow the creatures, learn their habits, their place in nature. It means you don't just sit on a stump in a forest and meditate, you hunt among the wolves, forage with the bears, stay wary next to your rabbit brethren.

I just like a curious little creature looking to experience the world.

As for deeper backstory bits the calamity that comes is of course up to the DM, talk to them about what would upset the balance of nature so much that nature itself would interfere. Also I do like the idea that your soul used to be something else, an ancient druid passing on who dedicated their past life to nature? Or maybe a soul destined for hell, given another chance to better the world?

The questions about your previous life can begin to conflict with your current self, having to explore this conflict with your DM and fellow players as you grapple with who you are. Perhaps some flashbacks are in order, dinner with a family you don't recognise, a flag you can draw but no one knows about. (You don't have to be from the current time, nature don't care, you could be from millennia ago).

As for the spear speak to your DM, I like to have an item from the past that you can link your character to, great for PC to PC conversations and maybe getting a weapon that can grow with you and have hidden abilities may let your DM go hog wild with development. Plus if your weapon breaks or gets stolen you aren't just happy to grab a new one.

As always all this is changeable, play this character how you want, a super efficient killing machine or a pacifistic innocent looking to better the world, or anything in between. I love when someone takes an idea as a springboard and takes it that bit further, and if you do please let me know, I love hearing about it :)

Art by: Jason NguyenPRO Absolutely stunning piece, the detail on the face and armour, how the leaves form the cloak. And oh god the spear is beautiful, elegant and dangerous. This is so fantastic, thank you

https://www.artstation.com/contests/ancient-civilizations/challenges/14/submissions/13640#submission-update-49355

#d&d character #d&d #Dungeons and dragons #character concept #character design #tabletop #RPG #warforged #druid #fae #nature #circle of the moon #circle of the stars #circle of spores #circle of the land

[peanut-butter-parkerxx]

Dating JJ Maybank includes:

- surfing surfing surfing 

- even if you dont know how to surf you'll wake up early in the morning to watch him surf 

- it's like a must at this point 

- if its not everyday, then its at least 4 times a week... 

- late night visits odfknklfzv

- he'd just randomly knock on your bedroom window at 10pm just to steal a kiss from you 

- if you were feeling generous you'd let him stay for a while 

-...or for the night

*knock* *knock*

"JJ! what are you doing here?"

"just came to make sure my girl is getting her beauty sleep. oh would you look at that! she's awake, now come on!" 

*lifts you up and flops on the bed* 

- i dont know why, but he gets so so soft when you guys cuddle 

"you're so warm mmhm" and he snuggles further into your chest

- he'd mumble incoherent words since he always laying on tops of you

"i mishhed ya so mushhch today"

"your shhweater is very comfy"

"can we stay like this forever? pleashhe"

- he'd get so grumpy once you stop playing with his hair, oh my god 

- either its because you wanted to grab something or send a quick text, the pout is there in a millisecond 

"y/nnnn" whining his ass off until you comb his hair again 

- he loves loves lovessss giving you massages

- whenever you were stressed about school or studying, without any context, he'd get up and sit behind you doing wonders with his hands (not in that way u horny mfs) 

"you okay, baby?"

"yeah yeah im fine, math is just pissing me off" you sighed, aggressively flipping through the pages. suddenly, you felt hands on your shoulders and your chair going backwards. 

JJ pushed you infront so he could sit down behind you and placed you on top of him, slowly massaging the tight knots on your aching back.

"thank you" 

"anytime" and he kissed your shoulder. 

- oh yes. JJ LOVES to hear you gossip about the petty girls in school. since he usually skips classes, he's not present when the dramatic confrontations happen

- but he'd get so into it. his eyes would widen, and he'd absentmindedly move forward as if he could hear your words better, and he'd gasp everytime you spill the tea.

*major dramatic adorable gasp* "jessica said WHAT?"

"I KNOW RIGHT? and she even heard a rumor from aaron that he heard from veronica that she heard from haley that she heard from ALLISON that he never really liked chloe AND HE CONTINUED DANCING WITH ALLISON THE ENTIRE NIGHT"

*another major dramatic adorable gasp* "NO WAY" he gulped  "THAT SON OF A BITCH"

"I KNOW"

- holding hands 

- holding hands 

- holding hands 

- idk if you could tell 

- but JJ loves holding hands ofposdpo

- its the simplest way for him to say he loves you 

- especially when he squeeze your hands 3 times every once in a while when you guys get lost in a conversation with someone 

- its him telling you that he's here and you're never leaving his mind 

 - he'd spank you for no reason always giving you a shit eating grin after

- and its so  A N N O Y I N G

- omg dont get me stAaAaaArted on hugs and kisses and cuddles and every form of affection ever 

- not only did it surprise you, but it surprised JJ himself of how affectionate he is 

- not in a lust kind of way but in a loving, comforting kind of way 

- holding you by the waist at all times 

- slightly gripping you a bit harder when some guy randomly talks- flirts with you (JJ is determined by it but you shrug it off)- to you 

- he loves holding you (with both hands) by your waist and resting his head on your shoulder 

- especially in the morning, when he forces you to go to the beach with him, just staring at the sunrise. 

- it was definitely worth it. 

"look at those birds" you pointed at he birds flying away just above the shining horizon, hugging your boyfriend's arms that were wrapped around your shoulders "they look..so free" you sighed, closing your eyes.

"that'll be us one day, babe" he rested his head on the crook of your neck, kissing it occasionally.

- one of his favourite cuddling positions is when he has his arms wrapped loosely around your lower stomach while you hugged him like a koala with a leg draped over his torso

- makes his heart flutter more than he shamefully admits. but hey, its you we're talking abt.  

- or when he suddenly flops on top of you (not throwing all his weight on you of course) and lay on top of you, both hands wrapping around you like he's hugging a teddy bear as his legs were in between yours. 

- he'd normally do this when he's sad or when he gets in a fight with his dad. there's just something about being wrapped by your arms and inhaling your scent that feels so safe and comforting for him. 

"hard day" your voice was soft, your fingers brushed his golden locks 

"a little" he sniffled quietly, hugging you tighter

- his little kisses 

- omg the one where you're listening to your teachers rant about how much shit you guys have to do now that your 'older' and he'd take your hand under the desk, which gets your attention 

- you'd look at him and he'd give you these 'you'll be okay' smiles, then kisses your knuckles repeatedly to assure you. 

- it would always warm the pogues hearts, kie and pope would look at eachother with a pout and John B would smile at his best friend. 

- now the pogues wont admit it, but they ship you. they're definitely the captains of the ship 

- oh my god how can i forget? 

- you can't date JJ without his friends annoying the shit out of him!

- well its not like JJ ever dated before

- maybe thats why they annoy him even more

"aww look at JJ getting all soft" 

"yeah im sorry, man, but it does not look good on you" 

"cUdDle CudDleS cUddLeS" 

- they'd mock and mock and mock 

- maybe that's why he would make sure no one was home before he goes all soft mode 

- he'd get so nervous when meeting your parents 

-well to his friend's he'd shrug it off as if it's nothing

- that was until it was the day before meeting them he woke them up and ranted his ass off about how unprepared and terrified as shit 

- you sensed it immediately the day of and told him everything will be alright, holding his hands reassuringly 

"im wayy too overdressed, babe. this is itchy!!!" JJ whined scratching his neck 

"for the last time maybank, ITS A GODDAMN FLANNEL" 

- eating out at 2 in the morning>>>>>>>>>

- well you started it but now JJ loves it 

- at first he got pissed, wanting his beauty sleep but he obviously agreed to it. 

- but now anytime he couldn't sleep or felt hungry. he'd nudge you awake and ask what you wanna order from McDolnalds this time. 

- you guys would try a bunch of fast food places that are opened 24hrs 

-one time you guys tried sushi...

- i mean it was delicious, but do not recommend eating it at 2 in the fucking MORNING

 - now back to the sappy shit 

- he'd look at you so differently than when he looks at others 

- he even never looked at his loved ones like that 

- that's when he knew there was something different about you

- and every time he tried to ignore it

- the voice in his head always wins 

- let's go back to the first time he said the L word shall we?

"so yeah, the whales looked so adorable! you should've seen them kie!" 

"ugh why didn't you force me to come dipshit!"

"well im sorry for caring about your grades and your space idiot!" y/n shot back, snorting causing kie to laugh with her. 

- all JJ did was stare, look at her, admire her, it was addicting. 

- he admired how passionate and attached she was with the ocean 

- how her eyes sparkled 

- how her smile radiated so much comfort energy that it made him subconsciously smile. 

-all he heard was 

i love you 

i love you 

i love you 

- over and over again in his head. 

when kie excused herself to the bathroom y/n looked at him, she was smiling coz why not? i mean she's with her friends and boyfriened, the weather was to die for, and she just witnessed a family of whales swimming. life was perfect, and she was glowing. 

"what?" she chuckled nervously 

i love you 

i love you 

i love you

"i love you"

i love you

i lov-

"what?" her smile stretched, eyes widened in disbelief 

"what?" JJ looked at her confused, he didn't say anythi- shit. 

"i said that out loud didn't i" he closed his eyes and prayed to the god he never believed in to let the ground swallow him whole. 

- but you literally jumped on him and kissed him. 

- you kissed him 

and kissed him 

and kissed him 

saying i love you between each one. 

- THE JJ maybank confessed his love for a girl

"y-you do?" HIS eyes widened this time, smile slightly 

*slap on the back of his head* "of course i do, dipshit" you retorted, causing both of you to break out in laughter 

- and ever since then, he could't stop saying it!

- dropping you off at class 

"bye babe, i love you" he says so casually and effortlessly. like you guys were together for years 

- in the middle of class 

*nudges your shoulder* ''babe'' he whispered''

''whats?'' you replied, annoyed.

''i love you'' he said kissing your cheek before the teacher notices and goes straight to his notes leaving you a blushing mess. 

- when you're making food 

- when he's surfing 

- when you're texting 

- literally anytime any place and any where 

- and you wouldn't change a thing about it. 

#jj x you #fluff #imagines #jj fanfiction #jj texts #jj fic #jj x reader fluff #peanutbutter writing #jj maybankxreader #jj maybank x reader #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank

[smp-live]

The apocalypse happened a few years ago. And- it's vague, the apocalypse. It's not some big earth-shattering moment. It's confused tv reports and impulse decisions and little growing bits of tension until the pot boils over.

The details are fuzzy; it all happened so quickly that many civilians were left unaware of what exactly went down. One day, they were living, and the next, most weren't.

Nukes, EMPs, solar flares - the survivors find it doesn't matter. One way or another, the world ended, millions died, and everything’s different. Hostile. Harsh. Unforgiving. The sun is bright and searing, and radiation burns skin not covered head-to-toe.

People are cruel and will take advantage of anything they can. If you're not a part of an already-existing group, good luck.

Somehow, two men end up on a wooden pallet floating in the middle of the ocean. Maybe it was a plane crash, one of the few still running downed by a stray shot; maybe a boat capsized, embrittled by the radiation. Same as the apocalypse, it doesn't matter. What does is that now they’re surrounded by debris and a shark thirsting for blood and there’s one thing they both know: trust no-one.

So they don’t. Names hold power, as they’ve learnt over the past few years; names imply trust. When it becomes apparent they’re stuck together and the time comes to introduce themselves, the elder of the two stares out to sea and says, “Call me...” And that phrase brings back memories of a book he’d read long ago, in the Before Days, and so he finishes, “Ishmael.”

The younger panics and blurts out the first thing that comes to mind: “I’m Gunk.”

‘Ishmael’ raises a skeptical eyebrow, clearly amused. “Gunk,” he repeats. And ‘Gunk’ nods, crosses his arms.

“Yeah, bitch. It’s...” his mind blanks, “Russian.”

Ishmael’s brow climbs further, and he looks on the verge of laughing, lips twisting ever-so-slightly upward. “Last name?”

“Uh,” Gunk wracks his brain, and something from a history class, years ago, stands out. Nearly forgotten amongst all the useless information - what he calls anything that doesn’t directly contribute to survival, nowadays - and only clinging on through his brain classifying it as ‘important’ for God-knows-why. “Gorbachov.”

“Like... Michael Gorbachov?” There’s a hint of laughter in Ishmael’s tone now, the first in a while. He tries not to let that thought depress him.

Gunk nods, relieved at the reminder of the rest of the name, even if he still can’t place it. “Yeah. He was my father.”

“Michael Gorbachov, eighth and final leader of Soviet Russia, was your father,” Ishmael deadpans, and, frustrated at having been outplayed, Gunk scowls.

“What of it?” he challenges, which makes Ishmael laugh, throwing his head back to the blistering sun high above.

“Okay, Gunk,” he says, and yet it doesn’t feel patronizing.

They both know the other is lying, that much is obvious from the constant teasing and jokes about Gunk’s ‘father.’ But it doesn’t matter, because in the slow turning of the days, they grow close. After all, there’s not much to do on a makeshift raft in the middle of the ocean, other than chat.

Ishmael is handy, and the main reason for their survival. He knows how to purify water and fillet a fish, how to add on to their raft without nails and swim against the ocean current. Gunk wonders where he picked all that up, but never asks.

(A survivalist father and paranoid brother, whom Ishmael hasn’t seen in half a decade. The thought that they’re probably still alive brings him comfort.)

Gunk, on the other hand, does most of the grunt work. Fishing in debris that floats by, diving down for rocks when they briefly dock, and the ever-important duty of keeping the shark they named Clive from destroying their miserly raft. He keeps up a steady stream of chatter through it all, and Ishmael thinks that’s what makes the monumental effort to go on worth it. Then, he wonders when he let himself get attached.

(It was a week or so in, when Gunk had fashioned himself a shelf out of the bottom of a storage bin and some planks, and proclaimed it his ‘comfort shelf.’ Gunk felt the same when Ishmael didn’t tell him to dismantle it, only pushed it aside, even though they were supposed to use that wood to repair Clive’s last attack.)

They survive, they grow closer, they hesitantly trust, and yet, they don’t pry. They don’t share their real names. Not until one day.

Ishmael goes swimming out to a nearby island to scavenge for food and chop down a few trees, if he can manage. Gunk stays on the ship - an anchor is next on their to-do list, and so he’s responsible for keeping it from drifting off with his tiny paddle. Except it’s not well-crafted, and grey jaws reach up to snap at the wood he’s standing on so he uses it to stab Clive, and the tip breaks off. The raft starts drifting away.

“Ishmael!” he calls, then again, louder, “Ishmael! Fuck, man!” But he’s nowhere to be seen, and the current is dragging Gunk awfully far out from the island.

He keeps calling, shouting, screaming, increasingly panicked at leaving his friend, the man who’d helped him survive for months, now, behind. Until his voice grows hoarse the way it never did from rambling for hours on end, and a little speck appears on the beach of the island.

Ishmael waves widely at him, and he must be shouting but Gunk can’t hear it over the lapping of the waves. So he assumes what was said, hollers, “I can’t fuckin’ come back, arsehole!” and raises the remains of the paddle over his head to clarify.

The speck stills, then bursts into motion, tossing everything he’s holding aside and shucking his shoes. Gunk can practically hear him mutter about what an “ridiculous child” he is, because although they’ve never shared their ages Ishmael’s decided he’s the elder of the two, which obviously means Gunk is a child.

And then Ishmael dives into the water, and he’s closing the distance between himself and the raft with each stroke. He cuts a straight line through the waves, until he suddenly swerves to the left. Gunk is confused a moment, before he notices - a grey fin jutting out of the water next to him.

Clive goes in for another pass, then another, and Ishmael jukes him out both times. He’s maybe five meters away, now, but the shark is coming back so Gunk screams. But Ishmael’s head is underwater, and he doesn’t hear. Just keeps going, towards safety he won't make it to.

Clive barrels into him. Ishmael vanishes underwater.

He doesn’t come back up.

Gunk is diving in before he can properly think, pushing past the cold shock of the sea, as he uses his self-taught skills to bring him to where he guesses Ishmael last was. Then, he takes a deep breath, squeezes his eyes shut, and goes under.

After a nervewracking few moments, his elbow bumps into something and he latches on, desperately dragging it upwards. They break the surface and he gasps for breath, Ishmael limp against him.

The trip back is agonizing. Ishmael is deadweight, their clothes are waterlogged, and Gunk has never been the best swimmer. But Clive is still lurking, and he refuses to drown after all this time, so he manages to drag them both back to the raft through pure willpower and spite.

Gunk collapses next to where he’d heaved Ishmael onto the planks, taking a second to compose himself. Shivering violently, he curls into a ball - he'll have to go for a spare change of clothes. His eyes drift shut. In a moment.

Then, panic seizes his heart as he becomes aware of how still Ishmael is. He jerks up, staring at him, searching for any sign of life, anything-

But a moment later he relaxes, when Ishmael rolls over and starts heaving out saltwater. Gunk reaches over and pats him on the back until it subsides, and he falls back onto the wood.

“You,” Ishmael says, letting his eyes flutter shut, “are so stupid.”

Gunk feels a burst of indignation. “Hey, what the fuck! I just saved your dumbass, Ish-ma-el.” He scowls at Ishmael’s placid little twist of the lips.

“Wilbur,” he murmurs, hands folded over his chest.

“What?”

“My name is Wilbur.”

Oh.

“I’m Tommy,” he says after a moment of silence where it sinks in, what he’d just been told, the trust laid on him, and then lays down next to Ishmael - Wilbur, now.

Wilbur just hums and wraps an arm under his shoulders, tugging him close - which is new; they’re really going all-in with this trust thing, huh? - then says, “So, so stupid.”

“Oi,” Tommy protests, but leans in closer.

Things aren’t really visibly different, after that. They still bicker, still do the same daily tasks, still slip up and call each other ‘Ishmael’ and ‘Gunk’ - though it becomes less and less common, other than with a teasing tone. They finally get their anchor, which means Tommy has the chance to go on land; though he quickly grows to dislike it after an incident with a particularly pissed-off boar.

To an outsider, everything remains the same. But to the inhabitants of the raft, it feels different. More homely. Warmer.

Once, after Wilbur chides Tommy over something or another, Tommy rolls his eyes and says, “You know, we really are like brothers.” He tries to keep his tone joking, and to not let himself hope for the words to be true.

Wilbur freezes. “Don’t say that; I’ll cry.” He blinks once to keep the tears at bay, and tries to push down the warmth in his chest.

(They both fail.)

About four months in, a light appears in the distance, at night. They angle their sail towards it and the dark shadow on the horizon. A few days later, it becomes apparent what it is: a lighthouse.

Inhabited land. Civilization.

They gather their meagre supplies once they dock, then ditch the raft in favour of climbing the lighthouse. And, from the top, off over a hill, Wilbur spots it first, points it out to his brother, who squints-

A Dome.

#wilbur soot #tommyinnit #Fic #enderspeak #sbi rust #crimeboys #Love how we all saw that stream and went #''Yes. Those are the Rust boys.'' #Also I can't write anymore apparently. Pain

[diaphragmjellyfish]

Research

Finally wrote something again! Sorry it took so long. 

How exactly do you get a dog to lose your scent? Because avoiding your werewolf boyfriend Embry was proving a lot harder than you had anticipated. Last weekend was… eventful. You guys had finally done it. Gone all the way. After 6 months of dating and an imprint bond, you both finally decided you were ready to take that next step. And you’ve only had one thought since that night. 

That shit hurted. 

It was borderline unbearable. The pain was searing. You lied there until Embry was done, faking moans and even faking the Big O, and you were less than eager to do it again. Were you broken? He seemed to enjoy it, so obviously you were to blame. He’d been super clingy and lovey since that night, even more so than usual, and you didn’t have the heart to be around him knowing you had faked it like that. What if he found out? He’d be crushed. What if he wanted to do it again? You couldn’t take that pain another night. What if he faked it too and was going to break up with you the next time he saw you? Yeah, no. Avoidance was the way to go. 

He wanted to take you out to see a movie. You mysteriously came down with a case of allergies in the middle of winter. 

He wanted to pick you up after school and give you a ride home. You had the sudden urge to join a club that was meeting after school that day. 

He called, your phone was on silent. 

He texted, you suddenly became illiterate. 

But he kept trying. God, why was he making this so difficult?! Thoughts like this swirled through your head as you walked the long way home from school. He knew your usual route, so obviously that was out of the question. You took a path through the woods that would eventually spit you out right by the beach where you could sit and think. The forest had always felt like a second home to you. Peaceful, comfortable, private. You walked for some time before hearing twigs snapping in the distance. Probably a rabbit or something. Louder snapping. Bigger sticks. Definitely not a rabbit. You halted, waiting for the creature to pass, when a large gray wolf stalked out of the trees. 

Damn. 

He was wearing the softest, cutest, most “kicked puppy” look on his face that you had ever seen. Head bowed, he walked up to you slowly, whining. So he had noticed your avoidance. You held your hand out to him, petting the thick fur between his ears. He sniffed your hand, giving it a soft lick. 

“Hi,” you whispered. He whined louder at this. “Embry…” you started, before he crouched down, a silent cue for you to get on his back. He waited. 

Guess this was inevitable. And at least him showing up in wolf form gave you some time to think about how exactly you would explain what had happened. With another soft sigh, you climbed up on his back, holding the fur tightly as he trotted off into the trees. After about 5 minutes, you realized that he was taking you to Sam and Emily’s house. You weren’t in the mood to be around the rest of the pack right now. 

“Embry, I’m kind of busy today. I don’t really have time to hang out with the pack.” 

He ignored you, trotting along as if your statement was the buzz of a mosquito in his ear. When you reached the house, however, you quickly realized that no one else was there. They must all be out. It was a Friday afternoon, after all. 

When you reached the lawn, Embry stopped and crouched once more so you could dismount. When you did, he ran off behind the house, walking back out several minutes later as the inky-haired boy you had grown to love. His face was full of sadness, yours full of anxiety. 

“Let’s go for a walk,” he said. 

You silently followed him down the path that led to the cliffs, waiting for him to say something else. He never did, only kept walking. You struggled to keep up, but were too stubborn in your silence to ask him to slow down. You both finally reached the rocky cliffs jutting out over the frigid ocean. He stopped, staring out at the horizon. You paused next to him, waiting. After another several minutes of silence, you grew impatient. 

“It’s supposed to snow Monday,” you said. 

You waited. Silence. 

“The news said they might even cancel school.” 

A pause. Nothing. 

“I don’t know about you, but I could definitely use a three day weeken-”

“Is there something you want to tell me?” he cut you off, seeming agitated. For as long as you’d known Embry, he was never in a bad mood. Never anything but happy. Maybe sad on a few occasions, but never angry. Never frustrated. And it was making you nervous. 

And now it was your turn to be silent. Yes! You wanted to say. You hurt me! But you couldn’t. Wouldn’t. He didn’t do it on purpose, so why would you make him feel guilty about something that was your problem and your problem alone? 

“Because, if I’m counting correctly, it’s been 5 days since I’ve so much as heard from you. Barely a text back. Not a call, not a ‘hey! I’m super busy this week.’ Why are you avoiding me? I thought… after last weekend, we should be more in love than ever right?! Did it not mean anything to you?” 

You remained quiet, tears pooling in your eyes. You gave no sign that you were going to respond, so he kept going. 

“Just tell me where your fucking head is at, Y/N. You can’t keep brushing me off like this. Did I do something wrong? Do you regret what we did? Am I, like… not ripped enough for you or something?” 

“Embry, no,” you pleaded. You could see the insecurity behind his eyes. You had to tell him what was going on, but you knew it would crush him. “It’s not that at all.” 

He waited. “Then what?” 

You closed your eyes, a tear slipping down your face. You wiped it away quickly before taking a deep breath. “I have been avoiding you.” You looked up at his face at this, finding tears building up in his own eyes. “I love you, Embry. But last weekend, just… I can’t do that again.” 

He clenched his jaw, looking anywhere but your face and nodded. He was hurt. You definitely could have worded that better. 

“Let me explain,” you pleaded. He wouldn’t look at you still, but didn’t walk away, so you kept going. “I think I might be broken or something, because that… It didn’t feel right.” 

At this, he looked back at your face, switching from hurt to concerned almost immediately. 

“Why would you think you’re broken?” 

Another pause. “I know you would never hurt me on purpose…”

“You were in pain?” he panicked, fresh tears pricking in his eyes. 

“It’s not your fault,” you hurried. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that? Why would you let me keep going?!” 

“I’m sorry!” you cried, causing him to walk up and embrace you. You sobbed into his chest as he pet your hair, all signs of anger gone. “You were having a good time, and I didn’t wanna ruin it, but it hurt so bad…” 

“Shhhhh,” he cooed as he rocked you from side to side, letting you calm down. “It’s okay.” 

After several minutes, you finally stopped crying. He didn’t falter in his embrace, only left light kisses on your forehead and cheek. 

“Y/N, I am so sorry,” he whispered into your hair. 

“It’s not your fault,” you replied. 

“Yes, it is. I’m supposed to take care of you. It was my job to make you feel good, and you were hurting that bad and I didn’t even notice.” You sniffled, just enjoying being in his arms. A few more minutes passed as you both calmed down. 

“To be fair, I did take a drama class last semester. I’d say I put on a pretty convincing performance,” you added weakly, an attempt to lighten the mood. 

He huffed a laugh, if for no other reason than to make you feel better. “Had me fooled,” he added. 

You smiled, looking up at him. “I’m sorry for avoiding you.” 

“It’s okay. I just wish you would have told me as soon as it started to hurt that you wanted to stop.” 

“I know. I should have, I just got all in my head about it.” 

“And I’m sorry for hurting you. I’ll never forgive myself, and I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore,” he answered, nervously awaiting your response. 

“I forgive you. And of course I still want to be with you, Embry. I love you. We just need to work on our communication skills a little bit,” you laughed. 

“We do. And I’ll start. I would really love another chance to make you feel good. If you promise to be honest about how you’re feeling, I know I can do a way better job. But I understand completely if you wanna wait a while… or if you never wanna do it again. You’re in charge here.” 

His words had your heart melting. He really did care about you, and you knew that if you had told him in the moment that you were in pain, he would have done anything to get you feeling good. You were always his first priority. 

“I’d be willing to try again, but what we did last time didn’t work. I think we need to think of some new techniques or something,” you mumbled shyly. 

“Tell you what. I’ll do some research, get some stuff, and you can come over tonight… if you want to. And we can maybe try again? And if you get there and aren’t feeling up to it, we can just watch a movie and cuddle. No pressure… I just miss you.” 

You thought for a second. Worst case scenario, you’d cuddle on the couch and eat junk food. You trusted Embry completely, and if you said stop, you knew he would. 

“Okay,” you replied. 

__________________________________

After a long shower, some fresh makeup, and a cute-yet-comfortable outfit, you were ready to go over to Embry’s. Sure, the nerves were kicking in, but you trusted him when he said he would do some research. When you pulled up, he was already standing in the doorway smiling. You ran out and gave him a giant bear hug (or wolf hug), and he picked you up and carried you into his room, kicking the door closed with his foot. 

“I missed you,” he said, face buried in your hair. 

“You saw me like 3 hours ago,” you giggled in response. 

“Yeah, but I haven’t seen you all week! Gotta get my Y/N fill or I might die!” 

You laughed loudly, hands threading up into his hair as he sat down on the bed with you seated in his lap. 

“Yeah, yeah, just try not to crowd me,” you cheekily replied. 

He raised an eyebrow before tackling you back onto the bed, tickling you like a maniac and placing playful kisses all over your face and neck. 

“Like this?! Don’t crowd you like this?” 

“Embry stop!” you laughed, trying to suck in a breath between his manic tickles. When he finally stopped, he was lying between your legs, one hand grasping both your wrists above your head, the other propped beside you so as to not crush you. He stared lovingly at your face before leaning down and placing a soft kiss on your lips. His grip on your arms loosened, as if to say You can stop me anytime, but you didn’t. You kissed him back, arms staying in place to tell him that you were okay. 

The kisses grew slightly more heated, but Embry kept them gentle. And every time you thought he was about to take things to the next step, he’d just kiss you some more. You were growing slightly impatient, breath labored and blood pumping fast. Your stomach became slightly warm, and every time you leaned up, he’d pull away. 

“You’re being mean,” you whimpered. 

He just looked at you and smirked before leaning down and capturing your lips once more. You could feel your blood heat in every part of your body. From your head to your toes, you felt warm and fuzzy, yet desperate for more,,, more touch, more pressure, more Embry. Growing frustrated, you hooked your legs around his waist and tried your best to pull him closer, unintentionally grinding your hips into his. When he brushed up against your core, you let out an involuntary sigh. It actually felt nice. He smiled into the kiss, pulling his lips away from yours and dragging them down to your jaw, and then your neck, suckling and sucking and leaving light red marks that made your head spin. The hand that was holding your wrists came down behind your back and up into your hair, firmly pulling your head back to give him better access to your neck. 

This movement made your entire back arch up into his body. His grip in your hair tightened slightly, lips sucking your skin up into his mouth as he nibbled, before soothing with his tongue. Your toes curled, legs pulling him impossibly closer. When he felt this, he ground his hips down into yours. The combination of his hands, lips, and weight on top of you made you let out a gasp. Your hands held onto his shoulders for dear life, pulling his shirt up in an attempt to take it off. He got the hint and sat up to remove it, being away from your body for far too long for your taste. He didn’t lower fully back down, however, instead sliding his warm hands under your shirt and onto your stomach. You sat up, taking your sweatshirt off and throwing it violently across the room. His eyes widened as they looked down at your bare chest in an almost feral fashion. He gripped your thighs, tugging you down the bed with ease, and resuming his position on top of you, hands roaming all over your torso. He cupped your breasts gently, rolling your nipples softly between his fingers. You shut your eyes and threw your head back, enjoying the sensations. His kisses trailed from your neck and down to your chest, softly. Lovingly. When he reached your nipples, his tongue poked out and licked around each of them, before taking them into his mouth and sucking. His hands continued to caress your back, and he took his sweet time switching from one breast to the other, and back again, until he felt your skin grow almost as hot as his. You were writhing underneath him, panting as your mind tried to comprehend the sensations. And his mouth, God it was so warm. You felt him kiss the undersides of your breasts, and then your stomach, and then lower… 

When he reached the waistband of your leggings, he brought his hands up as if to pull them off of you. He stopped, looking up at you for permission. You gave a lazy nod Yes, and lifted your hips to help him. He pulled your underwear off as well, spreading your legs and almost salivating at the sight of your soaking pussy. Not wanting to waste another second, he once again began placing kisses on your lower stomach, and then down to your hip bones, scraping his teeth lightly against the skin, which had you shuddering. He trailed lower, to where your thighs met your core, and began to suck lightly and the soft skin there. Your clit was throbbing by now, desperate for any sort of attention. You thrust your hips up, desperate for his mouth on the place you needed him, but he only pulled your legs over his shoulders and brought his arms across your stomach to hold you in place. Your hands went to his hair in an effort to control any aspect of this situation, but the boy was strong. He teased and teased and teased, until you thought you might very well crawl out of your own skin if he didn’t properly touch you soon. Embry brought his face right up to your center and licked into your entrance, making your toes curl once more. His hands gripped your hips as he brought you as far onto his tongue as he could, nose not quite brushing where you still needed him. 

“Embry…” you whimpered, about to tell him what you needed. 

“I know, baby. I got you,” he spoke, as he finally brought his warm tongue to lick a firm stripe up to your clit, swirling it around and sucking the swollen nub into his mouth. 

You let out a moan. A real one. Your first real one. And it only encouraged Embry, as he began to suck and lick with a steady rhythm that caused your legs to shake. You felt your stomach start to coil after several minutes of this, hands fisting Embry’s hair even tighter. It felt amazing, but that coil wouldn’t snap. He started to notice you coming down slightly, orgasm fading away, when he brought his index finger into your mouth. You sucked on instinct, before he pulled it out and brought it down to your entrance. He swirled the digit around a few times and began to push in slowly. One knuckle. Then two. And then he was fully in you. Sucking your clit into his mouth yet again, he rubbed his finger up into your front wall, massaging the ridges there. 

“Oh… Embry, oh my God,” you moaned. He used more pressure, and then brought his finger out and added another, slowly pushing them in together and resuming the ‘come-hither’ motion. You felt your muscles shake, losing all control, and the coil in your stomach tightened rapidly once again, only this time, it broke. Your back arched, eyes shut tight, mouth open in a silent scream as you came hard. Waves of pleasure drove through you, hands holding his head firmly onto your center. When you came down and opened your eyes, you looked down at his face to see an excited grin. 

“If you tell me that was fake, I think I’ll cry,” he chirped. 

You calmed your hard breathing enough to mutter a “That was real.” 

“Do you wanna keep going?” he asked. 

You nodded, taking note of the obvious tent in his shorts. You reached a hand down to grasp him, when he grabbed your wrist and said “Nuh-uh, I’m still making it up to you.” 

He stood up off the bed and went over to a plastic shopping bag on his desk. He opened it and pulled out a condom, some lube, and a small pink toy. Your eyes widened, and he cockily stated, “told you I’d do some research. Come here Sweetheart.” He held a hand out to help you up, and moved you so that you were on your hands and knees, bum facing him as he stood at the edge of the bed. He tore the condom packet open with his teeth and rolled it on, and then opened the bottle of lube and slathered it all over himself. He then brought what was left on his hand up to your sensitive core, distributing the substance gently. Throwing the bottle onto the floor, he lined himself up with your entrance. 

“You sure you wanna keep going?” he asked. You nodded in response. “I need you to say it, babe.” 

“Yes, I want to keep going, Em,” you almost cried. 

“Okay, but I need you to tell me if it hurts even a little. Promise?” 

“Promise.” 

He grasped your hip with one hand, guiding himself in with the other. Slowly, carefully, he became fully seated inside you, giving you a moment to adjust. You felt no pain, just a delicious stretch inside your walls. When Embry saw that you were relaxed, he pulled himself out a couple of inches and softly thrusted back in, looking for any signs of discomfort. He found none, and continued. He dragged himself in and out of you at a torturous pace that made your breathing pick up yet again. You needed more. You began rocking yourself back onto him, begging for a faster pace, and he complied. He pulled out several inches more this time, shoving back in at a quicker pace that had your toes curling and your moans going up in pitch. At this, he stopped holding back. Embry began pounding into you, hands gripping your hips tight enough to leave the good kind of bruise. You were moaning loudly, brain turning to mush. This is what sex was supposed to be like. What you’d always imagined it would be like. Passionate, loving, amazing. 

Embry found himself reaching the edge, but would not allow himself to finish before you. He reached down onto the bed for the small pink toy that you had forgotten about. He flicked it on, brought his other hand down and around your throat to pull you up against him, and held the small vibrator right onto your clit. The pounding pressure of his dick paired with the fervent vibrations had you seeing stars. You came. Hard. You didn’t know how long the orgasm had lasted. When you came to, you were lying on your back on the bed, breathing still labored, as Embry cleaned your thighs off with a damp towel. He noticed you looking up at him. 

“Hey, Sweetheart,” he cooed.

“Hey,” you responded weakly. 

“How ya doing?” 

“Really good,” you laughed. 

“Yeah?” he beamed at you as you nodded in response. “Good. I’m gonna get you some water and then we can cuddle, okay?” You only smiled in contentment as he walked off into the hallway, returning shortly with a cup of cold water. “Sit up for me?” 

“Can’t,” you answered, eliciting a laugh from him. 

“C’mon, I’ll help you,” he spoke as he gently held the back of your head, supporting you as you leaned up to drink from the cup he was holding up to your mouth. After you took a few sips, he seemed satisfied and placed the cup on the floor, lying down next to you and pulling you close. “If you start ignoring me after that, I might have to kill you,” he teased. 

“Don’t worry. I won’t ever ignore you again.” You sighed in contentment, listening to Embry’s soothing heartbeat, before you began to wonder. “By the way, what the heck kind of research did you do?” 

He huffed a laugh before responding, “Some guy on the internet called Owen Grey.” 

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