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#how to kill 100 people in 30 days

pinkisacreativecolour · 17 days

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Okay okay okay. This post is going to be mentioning so much murder and death and also a lil bit of existential horror and just plain old horror but yk. With the concept I’m about to speak into this world it’s bound to happen. It’s also crack taken seriously. So. High school au.

Tha basic facts:

Chuuya lives with Verlaine

The Flags and Chuuya are friends and have been for a year

Dazai got taken from Mori’s care when the old boss died so he’s in a foster home with atsushi rn. They live with the Izumi’s.

Oda’s with Fukuzawa. Ranpo and Yasano too.

The Ada are a detective group outside of school. It’s literally just made of high schoolers and middle schoolers. They are the best in Yokohama. The people think the police are a joke.

. The flags are a youth club that Pianoman managed to establish with the old principle. They do basically whatever they want with the promise of doing shit for the school when they graduate. The old fuck dies (murdered by Mori), and when said worlds worst high-school doctor takes over, he tries to disband the club after they couldn’t get Chuuya to start living on campus. Verlaine said no. Mori wants to make Verlaine , + Chuuya when he graduates, work for him.

The flags aren’t really sure what to do and Chuuya can’t move onto campus without permission and so. They decide to try and summon the spirit of the old principle to get him to tell Mori to leave them alone without him realising it was them. Chuuya says it’s a stupid idea. Albatross says it’ll be fine. What’s the worst that can happen?

Instead they manage to summon the ancient horror Arahabaki.

A lotttttt of psychedelic shit happens. Arahabaki wants at least one soul in exchange for the other’s freedom. Chuuya sacrifices himself and the rest of the flags are left reeling. Albatross yells at the Ancient horror god that there has to be something they can do to get their friend back.

Arahabaki says it wants 100 souls in exchange for Chuuya’s. In thirty days. The flags have to kill them all before delivering the bodies to Arahabaki as proof.

… what the fuck.

Arahabaki: this town is too peaceful. I want chaos. And souls. And blood.

So now. A group of 17-19 year olds have to try and kill 100 people in 30 days without getting caught. With an ancient horror haunting them with their currently dead friend’s body and voice. One of them has to tell Verlaine. And Adam. No one wants to tell Dazai. Exams are in exactly 36 days.

I call it How to Kill 100 people in 30 days. The title font looks like a romcom

#cjs rambling #bsd #bsd the flags #bsd flags #bsd chuuya #bsd verlaine #bsd dazai #murder mention tw #death mention #how to kill 100 people in 30 days #long post

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medicinemane · 2 years

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Well, I guess I didn't get breakfast and I also don't get lunch

I uh... I don't know. So first off, the whole reason this situation is screwy is I just have a ton of trouble feeding myself. I have trouble even getting myself to eat let along cooking. Just... I could do it in theory but in practice sometimes 5 minutes to make mac & cheese if more than I can deal with

Anyway, that's why basically the one thing my mom does is the cooking and the dishes. Zero help with any of the other stuff around the house, but she does that

Went down there this morning (cause I have to go show my face or she just makes herself something), nah, no breakfast

Go down there now and she's planning on going to this seniors lunch she was told about. I want her to go to that, I think that's a good thing cause I know she doesn't really have any friends or much in the way of company (lets hope she doesn't get needlessly defensive over nothing like she often does)

Anyway, says I should just make some mac, and it's like one I've got enough cheese powder left for about one bowl so I'll hold on to it (and I have to wait till she orders more, cause I ran out of money doing things like paying off her car loan). Plus, I've still been hungry after even two bowls of mac, I think I'm not getting enough protein

She's like "well I could just not go to this", and it's like no, I want her to go. I'm telling you here right now that's what I actually want... I just wish I could have something to eat too

Don't even know what I'd want, that's why I can't make food. Sandwich is the obvious option, but for some reason basic sandwiches just turn my stomach, and I'm not up to any of the stuff I actually like (can't stand loaf bread for one thing)

Not to mention there's really not a lot of food in this house that's actually for me. Other than the mac it's basically all raw ingredients that are beyond my current scope and also kind of tend to be spoken for, or it's all like... I mean like we can't not have tomato soup on hand, but like... even making sure I have enough cheese powder, now that's asking way too much

Had a low grade headache the past week, still have it, can feel it's gonna be way worse after I just try and go to bed and sleep though this. Feel my stomach churning. I don't know, really don't. The solution would be I just start cooking more but like... pretty sure I'm just not fit to live

#just add it to the list of reasons I need to go #long list of reasons there and pretty much none in the reasons it would be good if I stayed list #such a damn useless waste of space if we're blunt #100% of my worth is in my house so the very last thing I can do of any value is get it cleaned up #and I haven't done anything on that in a while #but like once I kill myself I just intend to leave very clear instructions about my top 3 people to get my house #and like... that's giving them 100% of what I had to offer anyway #and better still I wouldn't be in the house with is an obvious downside it I am #anyway...#can't cook can't clean just exactly as worthless as everyone says #I don't know... I'm tired and my headache's starting to get worse so it's a little hard to think #my mom always jokes about how the moment we get snacks they get eaten #but it's like the reason I skip on goldfish crackers is I know I eat snacks when I'm hungry #been eating sunflower seeds all night cause I got them for free #I eat snacks when I'm hungry and I'm always hungry so I end up like... also was given some oatmeal bars #ate all 30 of them over the past few days and only that long cause I was pacing myself so I could make them last #snacks of course don't put a dent it hunger #also oatmeal... I could make oatmeal but I can have 5 bowls of it and still be hungry #mac fills me up so much better and even that hasn't been filling me up cause I think I need protein #I don't know... just kind of a perfect example of what a failure I am #mm tag so i can find things later

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kausstar · 10 months

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LET LOOSE

tyler durden x reader￨sfw content￨wc: 1.1k

tyler didn’t take most things seriously, he would always grin from ear to ear when nothing was funny but he took things that came down to you a bit serious.

tags no description of reader besides you being good at pool and having ass! swearing. the narrator is referred to as “jack” because that’s what he calls himself in the movie. the plot is different from the movie. bleeding. fighting. violence. not proofread (it never is lol).

𝓴aus. i rewatched the movie and probably liked over 100 edits on tiktok about this movie so i could write this. i am too underrated for this.

just like every saturday, you, tyler and the brown haired, 30-year-old who couldn’t stop bitching about this “marla” chick, sat in a booth together at your favorite bar. jack on one side while you and tyler sat on the other— you probably resting your legs on his as you listened to jack’s rants.

“almost killed herself last week, fucking drug addiction,” jack says before taking a couple sips of beer, bags under his eyes practically becoming a usual thing to see. “she called you first?” you ask, feeling tyler stretch an arm over your shoulders. “yeah. she always does,” he groans as tyler mindlessly looks down at his watch on his right arm, then looks up at the two of you. “see?” he points at him, making the two of you look his way. “that right there is why you have that problem: she’s relying on you- draining you from the inside-out,” tyler says, gesturing up and down towards jack as he leaned over the table slightly.

“let loose,” tyler said, sitting all the way back in his sit. only the three of you knew what it meant because you promised you wouldn’t speak directly about it out in public. fight club was for people who needed that relief from the week days filled with government controlled jobs, contracts and systems. there is no need for crying and bitching when you were getting punched in the face, tyler believed. jack never understood how the two of you enjoyed watching people bleed from their mouths but tyler knew he would like it all the same, he just needed a little push.

“speaking of “letting loose” how much time do we have left?” you spoke, breaking the silence. tyler looks down at his watch again then looks over to you. “20 minutes.” 20 minutes until the basement of your favorite bar was filled with men who’s fists were itchy to crash into someone’s face. “well, i’m gonna go play pool,” you mumble out quickly before removing your legs from tyler’s, allowing him to get out of the booth so you can stand. once you’re out, he slides himself back into the empty seat.

you look over to jack and give him a provoking look he’s seen time and time again. “think about it,” you lightly smile. 10 minutes after you had left, jack had already started to ramble off again, talking about nonsense that could easily be fixed and that was in his complete control: that’s why tyler didn’t listen. “are you even listening?” jack groans. his groans made the blonde give him a short glance, just for him to look back the way he’d been looking for the past 10 minutes.

“no, and i haven’t for a while so once you’re done wallowing in self-pity…” tyler gives him another short glance but with a grin this time. “you can feast your eyes on something worth living for,” he finished, nudging his head in the direction behind his friend towards to the pool tables. now knowing tyler’s definition of “something worth living for”, he hopes he doesn’t see anything that’ll scar him for life, and fortunately, he doesn’t. it’s just you playing pool with two guys that are giving you the googly eyes of a lifetime. he’s confused so he looks over to tyler but only finds his friend grinning at you. jack looks back over to you, trying to find what was so special.

you stood in the farthest corner of the pool table from the two of them as you watched one of the them hit the white ball. once the loud noise of the balls hitting each other and two going into the holes cleared, the man stands from his leaning position and looks over at you, proudly. you only give him a grin, clearly not too impressed. you say nothing before taking a couple steps over.

the men playing only gave each other a grin (one that you didn’t catch) before looking back over at you who was leaning on the table, ribs touching the rim. tyler could see you perfectly from where he was sitting, arm up on the booth seat behind him, grin cut into his face, and eyes burning holes into the curve of your ass and that pretty face. he made sure to keep an eye an on the guys you were playing with who stood a bit too close to you for his liking but he let it slip his mind, allowing himself to focus on you.

once you lined up your stick, you took the shoot and watch as the 8 ball fell right where you wanted it. you smiled but quickly stopped when you feel a hand slide down the curve of your back to the top of your ass. you’re quick to stand from your leaning position. “what the fuck!?” tyler quickly stands from the booth and walks up from behind you. the guy removes his hand from you and take a couple steps back after spotting him, but tyler is quick to stand in front of you and throw a punch to the guys face.

you could practically hear his nose break under the impact. “what’s your fucking problem?” the guy swears, sharing a glance between tyler and his bloody fingers as he touched his bleeding nose. “we were playing pool,” he growled, finally covering his nose with his hand. “what? you think i didn’t see you getting a feel, dick face?” tyler asks, tilting his head to the side slightly with a grin. the guy says nothing making tyler grab him by his shirt and punch him a couple more time.

the guy was starting to go slightly limp in his grasp as he continued to throw punches. “take that shit downstairs, man!” irvine yells walking through the crowd that had gathered to watch—that you hadn’t seem to notice until then. tyler notices the voice and stops. before he lets him go though, he takes a good look the guy, face bloody, eye black and swollen, and cheeks bruised then turns his ear to you.

“you think that’s enough, baby?” he grins, his slightly leaning position giving you a clear view of the guys face. “perfect,” you grin, and tyler smile even harder. he then loses his grip on the guys shirt and tosses him slightly. him almost falling over as a result but before he can tyler whispers, “i got ya,” to himself before, locking hands with the guy and helps him gain his balance. with no intentions of letting his hand go, tyler gives the crowd a look before turning his attention back to the man and leaning in to whisper. “next time, i’ll make sure it’s both eyes,” he whispers, before pulling back with a grin and a wink.

tyler grabs the guy’s wallet from his pocket picks a couple buck from it, before folding the bucks in half between his fingers and waves it in his face. “payment… you know, for my worries,” he grins before passing it back to you and you take it proudly. he slips the wallet back into his pocket and gives him one last look before punching him dead in his face again, but this time he hits the floor, hard. before irvine could yell out, tyler puts his hands up with a grin. “my hands slipped. sorry.”

irvine only gives the both of you a hard glare as you and him walk around the pool table. tyler checks his watch as he walks, smile beaming. “showtime,” he whispers to himself. “you’re a pain in my ass,” irvine groans as the two of you walk pass him to get to the basement. “love you too,” tyler grins before patting him on his chest. “come on, jack.” you gestured for your friend who stood smiling like most people in the crowd.

 2023 kausstar.

#⋆ 𐙚 ₊ ˚ star #fight club 1999 #fight club fanfic #fight club #tyler durden x reader #tyler durden fanfic #tyler durden smut #tyler durden #tyler durden oneshot #tyler durden imagines #tyler durden imagine #tyler durden fanfiction

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k-s-morgan · 4 months

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This is a belated post where I wanted to briefly address the outcomes of 2023!

While Ukraine mostly faded from the stage of world's news, unfortunately, the situation didn't get better for my people. Every day Russia kills, maims, and ruins everything it can touch. Every day civilians die from its imprecise missiles, random shootings and artillery, and outright executions. I often see that those living in other countries call this Putin's war, but it really isn't. This is the war sponsored by Putin and his regime, true, but first and foremost, this is the war of Russian people. It's hundreds of thousands of Russian people who arm themselves and go kill our defenders and our civilians. It's Russian people who fire from tanks and other deadly weapons to ruin the Ukrainians' homes, to scorch our land, to leave nothing but destruction instead of cities and villages. It's Russian people who build the missiles, load their bombers, and fly for 5+ hours to direct them at our cities, homes, factories, and even empty fields.

This is me during one of the latest massive attack that took place on January 2. At first, at night, 35+ Russian-Iranian drones bombed us. Then Russian people sent about 100 missiles at us, mainly at my city Kyiv.

Our air defense system managed to intercept the majority of them, but while it sounds like interception is an entirely positive thing, it might have terrible consequences. Because the parts of the missiles fall down randomly. They can kill any human or creature walking down the street; they can collapse on top of a residential building. There is no escape, no way to feel safe even with the best air defense systems surrounding the city. Here's one of many disastrous results of this attack.

Dead and injured people and animals. Damaged and lost apartments.

On December 29, another attack killed over 30 people in Kyiv alone. You can see their faces below. They deserve to be seen and remembered.

This is a short story of just two latest attacks that took place just within one week, just in one city. Imagine how many of them me and my people lived through during the entire year? How many more we will have to experience?

Actually, we lived through another one before I finished writing this post. It happened on January 8, and it killed even more civilians.

I know that there are good, sane, compassionate Russians. I have some relatives among them. One of them, my aunt, can't keep herself entirely silent: she's deeply religious, and a few weeks ago, in a church, she risked saying that killing Ukrainians is bad. Another man told her that she's scum and that if she dares to open her mouth again, he will report her to authorities. The headmaster of a school where my aunt teaches was imprisoned for 7 years for refusing to hold a Z-event among students. Living there must be a torture of another kind, where you are surrounded by zombies who openly promote terrorism and bless missiles sent to kill other human beings. The problem is that sane and compassionate Russians are the minority - the vast majority is happy to either kill us or they support those who kill us. Or they simply don't care, trying to claim that everything is complicated when in reality, there is nothing complicated about it at all. Russia is a terrorist state and the world allows its people and its government to keep being monsters.

Seeing the indifference and impotence of seemingly powerful countries makes me increasingly concerned and depressed. At this point, I don't think I'm simply affected by my experiences: the world is rapidly going to hell, with terrorist countries like Russia being allowed to revel in their blood-thirstiness and the other terrorist countries, like North Korea, or potential offenders like China, observing and taking notes. When a criminal sees that no one is punished for a crime, they escalate. More criminals appear. This is what I feel is going to start happening more and more, until half of the planet is plunged into death and destruction. I'll be so very glad to be wrong.

On a personal note, I lost my most beloved pet pigeon Daikiria in 2023. I love her and miss her so much that I still cry whenever I think of her. In turn, I acquired a red nightmare of a rabbit who eats everything, including my feet, and two more pigeons. Taking care of them brings me joy - I only hope that my effort will actually benefit them.

Here's a pigeon that I named Noveria the day I found her, in a video I made for my vet. Attacked by a cat, bleeding all over, with broken ribs and a missing piece of her wing, with no tail:

Here is she now. She is feeling much better, although unfortunately, she got sick because of her weakened immune system.

My kitties continue to be adorable dorks. Here's me sleeping with my cat Tom after one of the attacks - he's really scared of loud sounds, so he sleeps like a rock afterward, just like me.

My family stays strong, and I hope we will remain to be so.

Writing stories remains a huge source of relief and distraction to me, and your support, love, and care give me strength even when I feel like I'm about to run out of it.

Thank you to those who support me on Patreon and give me a chance to have a safety net shielding me from some of the horrors and insecurities - thanks to you, I can rest sometimes when I would have to work instead; I can afford some more distractions and to write more as a result. Thank you to those who leave comments, kudos, asks; thank you to my friends who never fail to message me with questions about my well-being. I love and I appreciate you tremendously, and despite all my fears and worries, I hope that we will get to see a better future still.

#personal #ukraine #kyiv #kiev #russia is a terrorist state #my fics #thank you

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radykalny-feminizm · 1 month

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Heroine of the day - Sally McNeil

Born September 30, 1960 is an American former sergeant, professional female bodybuilder and muscle worship practitioner, who was convicted for the murder of her husband Ray McNeil, a Mr. Olympia competitor.

Her husband Ray has been physically and mentally abusing her for years, cheating on her as well. He liked to choke her, and did it multiple times during their relationship. On February 14th 1995, when he attacked her again, she had enough and she shot him. I say GOOD FOR HER.

But obviously the misogynistic society labeled her as an aggressive bully. Just because she was extremely strong physically, people didn't believe that she could be a victim of domestic violence. Even though a professional psychologist evaluated her and confirmed that she was abused, the absolute asshole of a prosecutor named Dan Goldstein kept denying this fact. He thought that a victim should be a perfect, helpless, delicate woman and Sally wasn't like this. So he did everything he could to destroy her in court and she ended up spending 25 years in prison for murder.

When watching a documentary about her (Netflix's Killer Sally) there are a couple of things worth noticing.

Sally's children confirmed that she was abused and they were 100% on her side. They SAW what was happening and knew she didn't have a choice.

As for Ray, his friends who are in the documentary are straight up ridiculous. One man said (with a smile on his face!) that Ray once gouged out some man's eyes. Then he proceeded to describe Ray as a gentle, harmless giant. And THEN he said how aggressive and dangerous Sally was 🤡 Ray's friends also found it very entertaining that he cheated on Sally. They were smiling while talking about it. They didn't give a single fuck about how hurt this woman was. And they wouldn't care if it was Ray who killed her.

Sally was not only a victim of domestic abuse. She's also a victim of misogyny, which robbed her of 25 years of her life.

But now she's free and thriving and I wish her all the best. She did NOTHING wrong. Every woman who kills her abuser is a heroine and should be praised.

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thelastharbinger · 9 months

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Did not have the U.S. government holding hearings on previously classified information and lying making confirmations under oath that they are in possession of alien bodies and ufos in order to distract from the fact that covid-19 is still the leading cause of death in children, the cost of living is astronomical, cop city is well underway despite Atlanta residents overwhelmingly crying out against it, we are experiencing the hottest & deadliest temperatures on record, the state of Florida trying to rewrite history to say that slavery was just a mutually beneficial unpaid internship, trans lives and rights are under attack, anti drag laws, FLINT MICHIGAN STILL DOES NOT HAVE CLEAN DRINKING WATER, anti-discrimination laws being reversed, Supreme Court ruling against affirmative action, Roe v. Wade undone, universal free school lunches are on the ballot, ongoing mass shootings, climate change, big pharma killing off people by withholding live saving drugs at ungodly market prices, the erasure of separation of church and state, AI surveillance being implemented to detect fare evasion for increasingly costly public transport services, the rise of fascim, proud boys showing up with military grade weapons at libraries and day care centers, the permitted attempted coup of the capital, labor union strikes happening all over the country, people dying of heat in Texas because evil landlords want to cut off cooling over an unpaid $51 utility bill, train derailments causing toxic waste spills, corruption within the highest court in the land, homelessness rates the highest its ever been, migrants and asylum seekers being kicked out of temporary housing, the cost of food, book bans, Miranda Rights no longer being stated, mayors deciding to no longer publicly disclose how many people are dying pre-trial in detention facilities, federal minimum wage still $7.25, Jeff Bezos, Elon Musk, oil pipeline constructions on native lands, something like 30-50% of the nation's drinking water contaminated with forever chemicals, the rich remaining untaxed, biden going back on his campaign promises to forgive all student debt, still no free universal healthcare, ICE deportations increasing under biden admin, the u.s. yet maintaining colonies, teens and women getting jail time for miscarriages and abortions, 100 companies globally responsible for 70 or 80-something percent of all CO2 emissions, we are living in a police state, diseases resurfacing after years with no cases due to rising temps, death penalty, public services being defunded to increase military and police spending budgets, and abusers suing victims for defamation cases in court so that they legally cannot talk about it, and setting a dangerous precedent in the process in my 2023 bingo card but here we god damn are.

#2023 is a goddamn JOKE #aliens #us government #us govt #aliens and ufos #2023 bingo #land temp in spain was 140 degrees 2 days ago. owners r gonna have to start buying shoes for their pups out of obligation bc paws on fire.#i hate it here so bad #like can the aliens fix racism?

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chronic-boogara · 2 years

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𝚂𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜: 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚜/𝚘 𝟸

more mommy-kink slashers for y’all !!! i love writing soft stuff like this it’s just so cute. i’m working on an iconic one since i get this question a lot. 😫😫 i forgot to link part one sorry lovelies.

stu macher

•finds it more hot than endearing let’s be honest.

•will call you mommy every chance he gets ,like every single chance he gets. and no he does not care if people think it’s weird.

•it doesn’t matter how smart you are he will ask for your help/opinion on everything he does.

• “do you think this outfit looks cool y/n”? “did any birds actually die in “to kill a mockingbird bird””?“what is the area of a square”? “how long does popcorn go in the microwave”?

•doesn’t need your help most of the time but wants it.

•is super clingy in public. he’ll stay close to you like a child

•will whine to you whenever someone is remotely mean to him. he will often ask you to yell at them or punish them for being such an ass

•”billy hit me today and it hurt like hell…you should go yell at him and take away his comics”.

•tells you literally everything. you’re one of the first people to know who the ghostface killers are. stu isn’t worried though , you’re the love of his life he will not let you leave

billy loomis

•my god he loves it. you’re the mother figure he needs in his life

•acts all soft with you. will snuggle you on the couch and kiss your face.

•he shares his passions with you ! comics, horror, spiders, snakes the lot of it. will info dump for hours if you let him. if you ask him questions about something he likes he will 100% be hype as hell.

•feels bad lying to you. he will tell you the about the murders and his reasoning behind it. will probably cry when he does it.

•comfort the baby and tell him it’s okay and you still love him.

•doesn’t like to talk to people in public so you’ll be doing most of the talking in this relationship. he loves you all the more for it

•has a bit of a mommy kink so he will be a total sub in the bedroom

lester sinclair

•he will probably cry. poor baby will be sobbing in your arms with happiness

•likes to take you with him on drives to show you all the cool stuff he’s working on.

•tell him to be safe before he leaves the house and he is all yours. having someone care for him like that is just amazing to him

•says i love you a lot. like at least 30 times a day. he can’t let you forget how much he loves you.

•will usually ask you to cook for him since he’s no good and his brothers don’t even bother doing it.

•cooking together with lester >>>

•enjoys the pet names. it doesn’t matter what it is he eats it up.

bo sinclair

•finds it a little annoying how much you care. why do you worry so much about him of all people

•doesn’t allow himself to be babied most of the time. bo acts like he’s all rough and tough.

•when the two of you are getting ready for bed though he’s baby. he will tell you every single detail of his day while laying between your thighs.

•likes to be held but will never admit it in a million years.

•thinks he has to be the man in the relationship.

#slasher x reader #slasher fluff #slasher x you #fluffy slasher headcanons #fluffy headcanons #slasher headcanons #slashers with mommy issues #stu macher x you #stu macher x reader #billy loomis x you #billy loomis x reader #ghostface x reader #lester sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x you #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair x reader #house of wax 2005 #scream 1996

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fuckboyzuko · 2 years

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Once when I was in college, my period was late. While I wasn't too worried I was pregnant (I'd recently had protected sex), I definitely didn't want to risk it. I googled some home remedies for how to induce a period, and someone recommended parsley tea.

A lot of the medical literature about said parsley tea is mixed. Some say it's highly nutritious, but it's definitely bad in large quantities (kidney failure is a possible side effect.)

But, uh. It worked. The instructions told me to drink it twice a day for three days, and on the third day, it induced my period, exactly as I was told. No baby for me. No negative side effects beyond the fact that it tastes like ass, and I was too scared to add honey or anything that might make it palatable.

I'm 100% not suggesting this for everyone, and again, KIDNEY FAILURE IS A POSSIBLE SIDE EFFECT IN LARGE QUANTITIES, let's not under-emphasize that!

But. I would rather be dead than be forced to carry a pregnancy I don't want, and I know a lot of people with uteruses who feel the same way. So, for $6, here's how you induce your period at home:

Boil water.

Add in parsley. It doesn't matter if it's Italian or curly. You can buy it for like $2 at the store. I bought three bunches and used half in each batch of tea for three days.

Kill the heat and let steep for a minimum of 30 minutes.

Drink.

That's it. If our laws are going to come from the dark ages, then we're going back to the solutions our ancestors have been using for centuries.

#abortion #pregnancy #parsley tea #roe vs. wade #feminism #reproductive rights #not medical advice #NOT MEDICAL ADVICE #miscarriage #parenthood #tw: pregnancy #tw: reproductive rights #my text posts

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majaloveschris · 6 months

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I do think he looked happy talking about his wedding and what little mention of 🐟 he did, especially with the go Portugal but putting aside how sincere or not that was, is pretty obvious it was something he had to mention and the rushed to move on from it and I think its because he knows how people feel about it and he cares, he cares that people will judge him from it (from now on I will asume its 100% real, the ring is there, he confirmed the wedding, called her his wife) wich to me is baffling because if you just married the love of your life and are happier than ever why would you care? He is not coming back to insta or twitter so he will not see the reactions, she can limit comments. Hollywood literaly doesnt care he is married to that kind of person, if he were a good actor nothing but that would matter so why would you care if people dont like your rs? The answer I think its because he is trying to bring back the fanbase he actively killed and so to me it looks like he would rather keep his wife as hidden as possible so he can keep his "A" list status and man that just tells a lot about him... Hence why he also spoke 30 seconds about arguably the most important day of his life till now and 10 about his dog, cause is the latter that sells. Had she been someone nice, someone to not be ashamed of (because thats the impression HE gives) he could have capitulated in the devoting husband look, but no he knows and doesnt care enough that he married her but cares enough to hide her.. Like make it make sense. Also I might said he looked happier that what he have seen him during this whole shit show but that doesnt mean he looks good.. He looks rough, the consequences of what he have done this past 2 years are catching to him fast.

I mean, he obviously cares what people think about him; all celebrities do. They live off their fans, since the only people who watch presumably every single project of theirs are their fans. He obviously wants to save what's left, but good luck for that. There are people who will never come back, but until his name is connected to people like Alba and her friends, he's going to lose fans.

If he is actually in love and happy with her (which I don't see, but okay), he doesn't need to divorce her because of other people; however, he needs to understand that not a lot of people can't support this, and mostly not because of the age gap but because of Alba's and her friends' behavior. He can do whatever he wants; there are people who are done with him, and that's it.

I definitely understand that his reputation is important for him and that whatever he says, he probably wants to stay in the industry, but the way he treated and talked about her, especially if she is the love of his life, is really interesting. I guess he had no problem appearing with Jenny, who was still married, by the way. If you love somebody so much that you want to marry them, then be proud of them. I'm not saying they should be out every single day kissing and hugging or whatever, but whenever we see them (in real time, not in a staged photo), he seems so distant. Dropping her hands in NYC, not letting her walk the red carpet, not holding her hands, saying weird things about her, like she is really into other people's energy. If this was love at first sight, and they knew they were in for the long ride, then he probably knew he's going to marry her, so he knew people were going to see her a lot of times, and they had to get used to it. So I don't really understand this whole hiding and breadcrumbing bullshit.

#majaloveschris #chris and alba relationship #cevans-love

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art-of-love-and-war · 10 months

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Hi!!! This is the first time I've EVER requested anything, so I'm super excited to be asking you. Would it be OK if I could have headcannons with some of the ikevamp boys? If you're comfortable with it, could I have Arthur, Comte, Isaac and Leonardo with and mc who has ADHD? I completely understand if you don't, feel free to completely ignore me. Thank youuu 😊😊😊❤❤❤

Characters: Arthur Conan Doyle | Comte De Saint Germain | Isaac Newton | Leonardo Da Vinci x GN!Reader Rating: General. Word count: 819 words Warning/s: Reader has ADHD, mentions of procrastination, hyperfocus, not enough focus. Author note: Hello! Sorry this took so long, I’ve had this on my mind for a very long time, and I even thought about doing Isaac’s route to write him more accurately but work has been killing me so I didn't get to open the DSM-V collecting dust in my shelf for this one :c

[୨୧] — Arthur Conan Doyle

There are quite some things he can understand about your symptoms. The main thing being procrastinating.

Listen, he is a writer, and he is not perfect, and there are moments where inspiration poofs out and he is forced to stop with his writer's block, or sometimes he feels stuck in a sentence and decides to do everything except finish his next chapter, so he can empathize when you go through periods where you keep pushing certain activities until the last minute.

He still worries about your well-being, even if he is not a doctor anymore; he is curious about the treatment you had back at your time and home.

He is sweet and understanding, despite having some pet peeves, he does his best to understand how it's something that is part of you and can work with support. And he wants to be that support.

Arthur also finds relatable the moments where you are stuck with your hyper-focus periods, and you happen to do your and Sebastian’s chores for the day on your own, though he is hurt by you mostly ignoring him those awful days when he wants nothing but to pamper you.

[୨୧] — Comte De Saint Germain

He is a wonderful and understanding man.

I can imagine him having a lot of pet peeves with people getting distracted too easily or drifting off and, part of loving you is the imperfections you embrace of each other and, they make you perfect for him as anyone.

He is careful of the periods where you either procrastinate too much or hyper-focus too much to not exhaust yourself with the chores you take or by making you overwhelmed by taking care of the mansion and its inhabitants.

He will listen to your weekly obsession without trouble. Do you want to tell him about 30 crow facts you learned? Tell him. Did you find a new way to make Sebas flick your forehead? He frowns. Do you want to tell him about your comfort fanfic you know by heart because you can’t read it anymore? He will listen.

If you fidget too much, and if you ask, he will get someone from his multiple contacts to make a “replica” of the fidget toys you used to have back at home.

[୨୧] — Isaac Newton

I have been seriously thinking of this since I got this ask because it seems too funny even if I haven't read his route: Consider, you don’t shut up.

Isaac strikes me as the type who wants to study in peace and quiet.

So maybe your relationship is quite a bumpy ride at first.

What amazes him is your capability of telling him about 100 things that interested you in the span of a single week.

Your conversations flow at random, so he would often be working on his stuff to suddenly be whisked away by you to tell him about that one thing you found out about hedgehogs for 3 hours.

Sometimes you are the cause of some of his frustrations. Last month you started knitting? He found some yarn with a texture you like and bought it as a gift, thinking you could make something for yourself.

He came back to find your knitted sweater half done and forgotten, and now you are learning how to bake.

And it is an ongoing cycle, but he finds a bit of happiness in you trying new things, as you often drag him along, which means spending more time together.

Maybe your relationship is the answer to what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object.

[୨୧] — Leonardo Da Vinci

ADHD?

Avoid tasks? Hyperfocus? Not enough focus? This man is a master at all those (and at dozing off)

He doesn’t mind you procrastinating, he has been avoiding to clean up his room for the last century, so he can’t complain.

Now, if you forget or get distracted about other things, now that’s a different story. Did you feed Lumiere in the evening and forgot to tell him, and then he fed him that same day, and now you have a chubby cat?

That’s funny, but no.

Aside from that, he doesn’t have trouble with your condition; he is still a loving man. He always is and has been when it comes to loving you.

And he likes your energy and how you keep him awake, in a sense, always making him try new things together, like dancing! Which he is not the best at, but he doesn’t mind trying your interests.

If you take an interest in one of his multiple areas of expertise he’d definitely teach you and not be bothered if you happen to drop your interest in the activity, in fact, he invites you to try other things.

Beware, he is a strict teacher, so he doesn’t want your attention wandering off too often.

He enjoys…, grounding you, lets say.

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legitimatesatanspawn · 6 months

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Double checking the timeline reminded me of some fun facts:

Bilbo, Age 18: Frodo's father (Drogo Baggins) is born.

Bilbo, Age 21: The Fell Winter. Loss of crops, "large white wolves" (could be wargs) invade the Shire.

Bilbo, Age 22: Region just south of Brandywine floods.

Bilbo, Age 26: Bilbo's paternal grandmother (Laura Baggins nee Grubb) dies at 102, his father (Bungo Baggins) becomes head of family at 70.

Bilbo, Age 30: Frodo's mother (Primula Baggins nee Brandybuck) is born.

Bilbo, Age 33: Officially considered an adult by Shire reckoning.

Bilbo, Age 36: Bilbo's father (Bungo Baggins) dies at 80. Presumably old age.

Bilbo, Age 44: Bilbo's mother (Belldonna Baggins nee Took) dies at 82. Presumably old age.

Bilbo, Age 50-52: The Dwarf Company meets at Bag End in Hobbiton (50/51), Quest ends (51), Bilbo gets home (52).

Bilbo, Age 78: Frodo is born and presumably lives in Hobbiton.

Bilbo, Age 90; Frodo, Age 12: Frodo's parents die (boating accident). Respectively 72 and 60.

Frodo is taken in by his maternal uncle's family (Rorimac Brandybuck) and lives in Brandy Hall in Buckland. Because his parents would often take him to visit his mother's family there, presumably just as much as they'd visit their Baggins side relatives in Hobbiton.

Bilbo, Age 99; Frodo, Age 21: Bilbo officially names Frodo his heir and brings him to Bag End. Note, it's implied he's had lots of visits and everything in between so its not just out of nowhere.

Bilbo, Age 111; Frodo, Age 33: Gandalf visits Bilbo regarding the Ring. The Birthday Party. Frodo is officially considered an adult in the Shire.

Bilbo, Age 112: Bilbo moves into Rivendell.

Bilbo, Age 128; Frodo, Age 50: Frodo gets visited by Gandalf regarding the Ring. Frodo leaves the Shire and reaches Rivendell. Fellowship is founded.

Bilbo, Age 129; Frodo, Age 51: Sauron is defeated. Later, Grima kills Saruman.

Bilbo, Age 131; Frodo, Age 53: Bilbo and Frodo sail off to Valinor.

Presumably Bilbo and Frodo live near/in Valinor for the rest of their days. Barring health issues, Frodo should live another 40 years.

So remember when Bilbo was stressing out over the dwarves using his mother's glorybox to scrape his traveling boots off on? Keep in mind a glory box is basically a big fancy chest that young women would/do (not sure if some places still do this) put items and goods in to help prepare the dowry and then transport it to the new home.

The fact that Hobbits apparently do dowries considering how they handle gift-giving is a little confusing to me. Bungo Baggins did make Bag End for his new wife, though, so maybe both sides do an equivalent to a dowry?

But even setting aside the fact that it was a keepsake and something he clearly cherished, dude was probably still grieving his parents and here comes this pack of random ass strangers just scraping stuff on it like it's that metal thing outside of some old houses I've seen around here. I forget the word for them. Those little metal plates screwed near to the front door on the pavement so that people can scrape off mud and in some cases dogshit/horseshit before entering someone's home.

Honestly I like those plates more than the welcome mats which are often either too thin to be of real use or too difficult to clean. The plate solves both issues.

Bilbo was essentially a teenager when everyone survived a horrible winter with food shortages and vicious attacks by wolves who either overhunted or ran out of prey in their original territory. And then he was a young adult when his parents died. Hobbits come of age at 33 and live to about 90-100. 110 is old af to them while the oldest known hobbit (before Bilbo) being at 130 as incredible. Give it up for Gerontius Took, everyone: Bilbo's maternal grampa!

Also considering Lobella Sacksville-Baggins is Bilbo's immediate cousin through his father's siblings, we have a massive reason for why Lobella being a salty ass isn't just a personality trait but more about family drama. Your bachelor cousin head of the family who has apparently zero interest in marrying or having kids of his own happily visits all his relatives and makes grand gifts to people as part of the local custom regarding birthday parties (Hobbits give gifts on their birthday rather than receiving them).

And then Bilbo adopts a distant cousin instead. 1st/2nd degree actually based on family but Bilbo's grandfather's brother's great-grandson doesn't roll off as easily, although Bilbo's maternal aunt's grandson does. Meanwhile Lobella is Bilbo's uncle's daughter-in-law making her son Lotho would've been his immediate successor by inheritance laws. Of course, Lobella is no saint and she was preemptively nasty and grabby with things not even hers but I'm gonna admit, if I cared about that I would definitely feel hurt.

#lord of the rings #tolkien #bilbo baggins #frodo baggins #lobella sacksville-baggins #the hobbit #character ages #timeline #the fell winter #drogo baggins #bungo baggins #belladona baggins #primula brandybuck #belladonna took #primula baggins #hobbit customs #hobbit culture

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savrenim · 2 months

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watched the first 30 minutes of the new live action ATLA bc I was Curious and they have already committed three different mortal sins that I can't Not Rant about, spoilers for the first 30 minutes below the cut

1. They rearranged the order of storytelling to open with the Fire Nation attacking the Air Nomads.

And I'm not.... totally sure why? Like, my guess is either "we need to make an immediate dramatic hook for the people who have never seen ATLA before!" or "we need to explain the background for the people who have never seen ATLA before!" But the truth is, people never saw ATLA before it came out, and they were perfectly fine catching on to learning about what happened to the Air Nomads and the geopolitical state of the world in media res!! That is not an excuse!

By opening with The Attack On The Air Nomads, not only do they rob the audience of getting to do my favorite thing throughout, which is the ability to piece together backstory via being told details as the story goes on, but it also..... vastly undermines the impact that That Attack Happening is going to have later in the story. Instead of piecing together tragedy from 100-year-old ruins and getting the moment of "oh god" and imagining it, we're shown it directly upfront onscreen, which not only to me comes across as unnecessary and gratuitous violence, but it means that every time in the story that The Air Nomads Are All Dead is going to come up, instead of it being this weighty thing that we can only imagine that each small detail adds even more to that weight, the payoff was all upfront. We've seen it, there's nothing to imagine, any detail they give us is not adding to our understanding of the tragedy and increasing the tragedy to us at all, it's just a reference to the opening scene.

2. STATUS!!!!!

So 'Status' is a concept that I rant about a lot and am highly sensitive to in writing, probably bc in the gay theater camp day camps the first thing you need to teach your 8-year-olds in improv workshop is How To Respect Status if you want to have at all a reasonable adventure game; otherwise you have kids interrupting the king's big dramatic speech and hence Undermining The King's Authority and the adventure game falls apart but also so you don't get trapped in scenes where you've got two characters yelling back and forth "well I'm [this thing] so you should respect me!!" and the complete lack of respect between them totally undermines what both of them are saying and the fiction falls apart. I kind of joke but not really that I stopped watching Supernatural in like. season 8?? 9?? because there was some episode with Greek Gods and you got to the finale of the episode and Zeus was going "dO YOU KNOW WHO I AM??? I'M ZEUS. I'M A GOD. PUNY MORTAL" and Sam and Dean went "dO YOU KNOW WHO WE ARE??? WE'RE THE WINCHESTERS. WE TOOK DOWN SATAN AND ALSO SATAN'S MORE EVIL OLDER COUSIN. PUNY MONSTER OF THE WEEK" and I went "by day three of camp my nightmare 8-year-olds can do Status better than this. Why am I even watching this?"

In the first scene, the live-action ATLA severely undermines the status of the Fire Nation and Fire Lord and then continuous to do so throughout the entire opening.

The initial scene is some random Earth Kingdom spy running away with Fire Nation plans to attack the Earth Kingdom and getting captured and dragged before Fire Lord Sozin (to be?? monologued at by Fire Lord Sozin of 'HAH you fell into my TRAP, those plans were FAKE, we're attacking the AIR NOMADS' which is just. dumb. kill the spy, don't monologue at him and kill him, but also why the fuck are you letting an Earthbender spy into your presence in the first place???????) which besides the aforementioned letting?? an earthbender spy??? into his presence in the first place????? He:

is not wearing particularly fancier clothes than the other people around him; like, they're okay, but the 'total desaturation of all colors including/especially in the clothing' aesthetic that Netflix has going makes it not look very royal. that shit should have been BRIGHT red or 10x fancier to make up for the fact that it wasn't Bright Red

they are STANDING IN THE THRONE ROOM and INSTEAD OF BEING BEHIND THE CURTAIN OF FLAMES he's just STANDING DOWN THERE on the SAME LEVEL AS EVERYONE ELSE????? WHY ARE YOU EVEN IN THE THRONE ROOM IF THE FIRE LORD IS???? NOT ON THE THRONE?????? JUST STANDING AROUND???? THE FIRE LORD DOES NOT JUST STAND AROUND WHERE IS THE POMP AND CIRCUMSTANCE OF THE OFFICE????????????

and then beyond the absolute idiocy and letting a nobody no-name spy into his presence like that and dramatically revealing battle plans fucking idiot deserves to be assassinated for letting a spy earthbender get within three feet of him that's just extremely bad royal security, Sozin personally Murders this Random Spy. with his own firebending hands.

One of the whole things that makes ~the Fire Lord~ so terrifying is the sheer amount of weight around The Institution Of The Fire Lord, the courts and the backstabbing nobles of the fire nation, both the extreme imperial politics and complications there but also the almost deification of the office itself. The Fire Lord is untouchable, I forget if it's fanon or canon that they've got a 'descended directly from Agni / divine right' thing going but if it's fanon at least canon has those vibes, and one of the biggest aspects of the finale of the whole show is the combination of Azula's meltdown making it so that even though she was 'Fire Lady' she.... wasn't particularly scarier because in panicking and banishing everyone she'd totally undermined her own power structure, but also realizing that Ozai was Actually Just Some Dude Who Sure Was Pretty Good At Firebending And A Really Shit Person And Terrifying For What He'd Done With His Power but he wasn't a god, he wasn't impossible to defeat, when push came to shove he was just a firebender and as such his power could be stripped.

Fire Lord Sozin standing on the same level as his advisors and a random earthbender spy, and then doing things with his own hands, instead of, you know, sitting on that throne behind that wall of fire while this scene was happening if this scene really needed to happen in the first place, totally undermines that sort of deification level of status that the Fire Lord is supposed to have. Sozin becomes an Evil Scary Murderer Villain, sure, but what proceeds to be established about his character is. Nothing to set him apart from "a particularly skilled Firebender." Hell not even that, as nothing ever demonstrates that he's substantially more skilled than the firebending soldiers around him!!!!!!!

And it undermines the severity of the threat of the whole Fire Nation to undermine the status of the Fire Lord and hence the Thing That Makes The Next Fire Lord So Scary. hnnnnnnnnnng.

3. Every single character keeps giving extremely stilted monologues about how they're feeling?

It just feels like Bad Writing. And it also kind of feels like incorrect characterizatons? Big "he would NOT say that" mood but also just, like. Aang giving a three minute monologue purely to Appa about how he never asked for the responsibility of being the Avatar, he just wants to be like other kids, that just feels. So Cookie Cutter. So "gotta check off our refusing the call so our protagonist is Relatable!" and also just he would not say that.

This doesn't quite bother me as much as the other ones because it doesn't feel like a fundamental undermining of the narrative and/or the setting but it is Highly Annoying.

anyways defs not worth the watch. 30 minutes of my life Wasted. some of the costumes are kind of nice tho so might go back for the costume refs.

#live action atla #netflix avatar #just some random musings but it's been a While since I've dropped any sort of writing analysis #and I kind of miss doing it #do truly love how like. the Vast majority of my media criticisms #or at least the ones that I get Annoyed enough to Go On Rants about #are the ones that break the rules of Status #bUT HNNNNG STATUS IS SO IMPORTANT!!!!!! YOU LITERALLY CANNOT TAKE ANY CHARACTER SERIOUSLY UNLESS THE CHARACTERS #OR IN THIS THE FRAMING OF THE SCENES THEMSELVES #RESPECT THAT STATUS #HNNNNNNNNNNG

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strawbrerian-writes · 10 months

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About Damn Time

This fucking thing was meant to be my contribution for @elucienweekofficial day 7 Prompt: AU. Did I get it complete in time? No. Life got in my way. Oh Well.

So here's a smutty, more plot than I meant it to have, really long Elucien one-shot. Which I am completely dedicating to @separatist-apologist for being a wonderful human and inspiring me and so many others out there.

Title: About Damn Time

Rating: Explicit

Summary:

Elain planned to have a quiet, cool day off. The universe took one look at her plans and said "bet."

Elain Archeron was convinced that a good cup of coffee could stop wars.

She was equally convinced it was a lack of a good cup of coffee that caused them.

It was 7:30 in the morning, and she was struggling. Summer was in full swing. As a landscaper, she preferred to do her work as early as possible. It was both better for the plants and for her employees’ disposition, as working conditions from eleven on in the summer were the stuff of nightmares.

The sun would be relentless. The heat would climb well into the nineties and the “feels like” would push it into triple digits. Most people would retreat to the air conditioning or find some body of water and stay there.

If the heat weren’t bad enough, average eighty percent humidity meant that even standing outside for five minutes kept her entire body soaking wet without her consent and her hair threatening to mutiny even in its braid.

The heat wouldn’t stop the bugs, though. They’d swarm, getting stuck in her sweat and biting any skin left exposed.

Elain loved it. She loved the messiness of it. The way the dirt was always cool beneath her fingers, the way the right plants flourished under the burning sun. She was made for sunny days and warm weather and mess.

She wasn’t crazy, though. Even she had her limits. Like the fact that it was 90% humidity and 90 degrees at seven-thirty with the weatherman calling for over 100 degrees by noon when she’d meant to be up and at the jobsite by six. She’d had three of her five employees call in, taking advantage of her high temps’ policy.

She usually wouldn’t mind. Had even decided last night to call it, herself. She texted all clients on the books for the day to let them know her crew would get to them the following business day and turned off her alarm.

Until her favorite client called that morning.

The director of the public library was in a panic, begging her to get the landscaping done before the summer reading program finale. Tomorrow. It was their biggest program of the year and auditors from the state were coming in.

“We have the potential to bring massive grants if everything goes off without a hitch. We could finally start the renovations we need. I know the weather is bad, Elain, but please I’ll pay double. Out of my own damn pocket,” Helion begged, his usually rich, smoky voice taking on a whine.

“It’s not just that, Helion,” she sighed into the receiver. “I’m down three guys today due to heat. You know my temps’ policy; I can’t make them come in. It takes four of us total to do a job that big in a day.”

“How many do you have?” he responded quickly. Elain could hear shuffling in the background and a woman’s voice murmuring. Likely his wife, who has hired Elain on several occasions to spruce up her gardens.

“Including myself, three.”

“Great! I have a meeting this morning and then I’ll be out to help. Sylva is grabbing Aodhan. He’ll meet you in, what? Thirty?” Helion was determined. She’d give him that.

“Aodhan Vanserra?” Elain questioned. She started to gather her things for the day. She knew the moment she answered the phone she was going to go. “Is he back in town?”

“He likes to get his hands dirty, and he’s strong. Put him to work wherever you need him,” Helion said loudly. She heard more scuffling, doors being shut and then her friend was back in a whisper, “Beron kicked him out, cut him off, and nearly killed the poor guy. Do not say anything about his ear.”

“What’s wrong with his ear?” Elain whispered as well. Even though she was in a room by herself and presumably no one could hear her.

“Later,” Helion hissed, then louder, “and you’re not paying him, dear. I am. As a thank you for this. Truly.”

“I didn’t say I’d do it,” Elain lied sweetly. Of course, she had already shoved the phone between her ear and shoulder so she could pull on her brown work boots.

“E-laain,” Helion whined, drawing her name out ridiculously, “but you love me.”

She sighed theatrically. “You know I do. You don’t have to pay extra. Just take care of your step-son and provide us with lunch and hydration.”

“Deal!” Helion’s shout was nothing short of triumphant. “Love you, too. See you soon.”

He hung up the phone, leaving Elain standing in her living room shaking her head.

Elain couldn’t bring herself to say no to Helion.

She’d spent most of her days in that library. Helion had become one of her closest friends over the years. Before he was director of the library, he was a high school history teacher and headed up the gardening club. He was probably Elain’s most favorite person outside of her family.

So, she threw her hair in a rough ponytail and rushed out the door. Between the two employees who agreed to work the heat and Aodhan, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad day. She’d be starting later than she wanted but with any luck, she’d been done before they all melted into plant food.

She’d do just about anything for her clients, especially Helion.

Well, except give up her morning large, iced coffee. He could wait another ten minutes. She was feeling chocolate peanut butter and whipped cream this morning.

“Elain?”

Every muscle in her body tensed. She squeezed her eyes tight, counting to three before she turned around.

Standing in line just behind Elain was her ex-boyfriend, Graysen Lorde and a very petite, beautiful woman she’d never seen before. She had beautiful ebony skin and sleek, black hair down to her shoulders. They were both dressed for work, Graysen in the gray slacks and a white button-down that indicated it was Thursday, the woman in a sleek, black pantsuit and heels.

“Graysen?”

What was he doing here? Last she’d heard he moved, took a high paying position at a new bank out west. Not to mention, he hated coffee.

“I thought that was you,” he said with a nervous smile. “You look…good.”

Elain glanced down at her clothes. She was rushed this morning, grabbing the first set of anything she could find. Which meant wearing a pair of canvas shorts with tears from work, a white tank top with a dirt stain along the bottom hem where she’d undoubtedly rubbed her hands without thinking, and an oversized green flannel one of her little sister’s friends had left behind years ago, in an attempt to hide the stains and tears of her work clothes.

“Thanks, just heading into the office,” she joked lamely. Graysen was never a fan of her “blue-collar” job. When they met, she was a bank teller working through community college. She spent her days in business casual clothing, hair always curled, and her makeup flawless.

No dirt under her nails. No sweat. No mess. No fun.

Graysen looked as he always had. Handsome face, sandy brown hair cut close, clothes tailored perfectly to his body. He looked like he’d put on some muscle, and maybe gotten a little tan somewhere.

“You’re Elain Archeron?” the beautiful woman said smiling, her voice deeper than she expected. It was almost musical. Graysen coughed a little and seemed to give her some kind of a look from the side.

Elain tried to brush it off. They had split over a year now, halfway agreeable, but she knew her ex to twist everything to his advantage. There was no telling what he’d told this woman.

She collected herself, standing a little straighter. She brushed her hands off on her shirt. “Uh, yeah…yes. I’m Elain Archeron.”

“Oh wow! You did the floral arrangements for my sister’s wedding this past February! The Rosenbluth/Cress wedding,” the woman smiled brilliantly, her pearly white teeth shining. She seemed…genuine. She even reached out her hand to shake Elain’s.

Elain remembered the wedding. It was a Valentine’s wedding. The bride wanted every pink, red, and white flower in existence. If that wasn’t a tall enough order, she’d waited until a week before the wedding to order anything at all. A week before Valentine’s Day. Every shop in a fifty-mile radius was booked up, and no florist would take her on.

Then someone had given Elain’s name to the bride’s mother.

“I remember her,” Elain mused. She took the woman’s offered hand in a firm shake. It was surprisingly calloused – just like her own. “I’d done some floral arranging before, but nothing to that scale. It was a nice challenge.”

They moved up a bit in line. She snuck a glance at Graysen. His face was quickly losing color.

“Oh, don’t be modest! She asked for the moon, and you gave it to her. You pulled an absolute miracle out of thin air,” the still nameless woman gushed. Elain was starting to blush. There was something so kind and sincere about this woman that it put her at ease. She just had one of those sunny personalities that drew people in. Elain couldn’t help but like this woman. “I honestly wish I would’ve known about you sooner, and I wouldn’t have wasted my money on the hack who did our wedding.”

Wait, what? Elain’s brain stuttered. She prayed the shock didn’t show on her face. Our wedding?

“Cora…” Graysen started, a hint of warning in his voice. He had a thin line of sweat beading up on his hairline now, his face completely pallid. The woman paid him no attention.

“Don’t you remember, babe? The flowers were half wilted before the ceremony was even over. It was a disaster,” Cora – his wife, apparently – went on seemingly oblivious to the sudden tension in the atmosphere. “They were sunflowers, even. Hardy things, right? Perfect for a fall wedding, but no…the guy had cut them too early, didn’t care for them properly and they were dead before nightfall.”

In that moment, three things became absolutely certain to Elain.

First, Graysen had lied to her when they broke up. He’d said they’d drifted apart, and it just wasn’t working out anymore.

Second, he had to get married within weeks of breaking up with her. Which meant either the man who took six months deciding on which tie to wear to a Christmas banquet suddenly decided to add some serious spontaneity to his life, or ...

Elain didn’t want to think about or, because the last thing that was very clear in that moment was that this woman – Cora, Graysen’s wife – had no idea who the hell Elain really was.

Cora kept talking, but Elain couldn’t hear. Her heartbeat was thumping so loud in her ears she couldn’t hear anything besides her own panic and rising anger. She was vaguely aware of the line jostling her forward. Cora was still smiling, going on about the wedding and flowers and what a wonderful job Elain did for her friend.

Bile was rising in her throat. She had to get out of here. She’d send Helion out for coffee. He owed her, but she had to leave.

“I couldn’t remember if you wanted Lemon or Raspberry, so I got one of each,” a confident, low voice broke through her panic. Elain turned to the source and looked up…and up.

A very tall, very handsome man in a black t-shirt and jeans was standing beside her holding out parchment wrapped scones in one of his massive hands. The other hand held two coffees by the bottom, impressively long fingers keeping them steady. She looked farther up at the curve of his nose, those full, full lips and the familiar cut of jawline. At the rich, auburn hair pulled into a tight bun. At the long scar running along the side of his face.

Oh thank God, she knew this man.

“Babe?” he said it as a question, head quirked slightly. Elain could have kissed him. Might have, had she not been frozen in place.

“Lemon,” she blurted more forcefully than she’d meant. She grabbed the correct scone from his hand and one of the coffees, as if he’d gotten it for her. She smiled gratefully at him. “I’m feeling lemon today. Thank you, Lucien.”

His name rolled off her tongue with ease.

Lucien grinned. “A little sour today, sweet-tart?”

“Don’t you mean sweetheart?” she teased back, trying to appear effortless. Graysen and his wife were still standing there, after all, watching with interest. Though by now color had started to return to Graysen’s face.

“I said what I said,” Lucien smirked proudly. He turned to the other two. “Good to see you again, Gray.” He nodded. “Cora.”

“That explains it!” Cora exclaimed, clapping her hands cheerfully. She turned to her husband. “That’s how you knew to recommend Elain! She’s Lucien’s girl.”

Graysen’s eyes hardened imperceptibly. His ears were turning red, a sign of rising temper. Elain held her smile as Lucien stepped a bit closer to her, claiming her space. At least now she knew how Mrs. Rosenbluth got her number.

“Yes ma’am,” Lucien answered for Graysen, still grinning like a fool. “Graysen mentioned how difficult a time your friend was having around the office one day, and I kindly offered my girl’s assistance.”

Graysen’s left eye twitched. “Yep.” He said, lips popping hard on the ‘p’. “That’s exactly right.”

Elain had to fight down a nervous laugh. This all felt so absurd.

“It was good seeing you again Cora, Graysen, but I’ve got to get my lady to Pops. You know how he panics,” Lucien laughed. He gestured to the door, arms encircling Elain and ushering her toward it. “I’ll see you around, Lorde.”

Graysen nodded curtly, Cora giving an enthusiastic wave.

“It was nice to meet you, Elain!” Cora called sweetly. Elain smiled back, raising her coffee in the air as if in a wave.

“You too, Cora!”

When they were outside the doors, Elain turned to Lucien. “Glass doors, Elain. He’s still watching,” Lucien said, smiling widely. Elain chanced a glance through the windows and sure enough, Graysen’s eyes hadn’t left her.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, staying close to Lucien so as not to break the illusion. She looked down into her cup. “What is it?”

“It’s a Reese’s Iced Coffee, extra whip,” Lucien answered as he swirled the cup in his hand. “Which sounds absolutely atrocious with a lemon scone, by the way.”

Elain narrowed her eyes. “How?”

“Pops,” Lucien shrugged in response. He took a sip from his cup. “The coffee is amazing, though. I’ll give you that. Come on.” He motioned down the sidewalk, towards the parking lot a few buildings down.

“Helion told you my drink order?” Elain questioned as they started walking down the street.

“Apparently you have him and mom both hooked on it,” Lucien explained. His russet eyes twinkled. “Though the scones were a guess.”

“Oh,” Elain said softly. She eyed her scone for a minute, replaying the interaction in her head. She didn’t even know Graysen was back in town. Lucien seemed to, though. “Do you work with him?”

“Who? Lorde?” Lucien asked.

She gave a small nod.

“Not exactly,” Lucien shook his head. He wiped his mouth with the back of the hand holding the other pastry. “Different departments. Different floors. I really only see him at functions or in the gym.”

“When did he get back?” she asked. Elain didn’t want to seem like she was digging for information about an ex, but she was so thrown off by everything that she couldn’t help herself. She wanted answers. Lucien seemed to have some, at least.

“About two months ago, but I know he interviewed with Jurian back in February,” Lucien answered honestly.

“He works for Jurian?”

“Fuck no,” Lucien spat, his head whipping back and forth. He was smiling. “Jurian hates that guy.”

Elain giggled. They walked for a beat in silence before she was brave enough to ask.

“So … did you know about…?”

“Only recently. He brought her a luncheon with my boss. He’s trying to switch out of accounting,” Lucien answered when she trailed off. “Until then, I didn’t know a damn thing.”

Elain and Graysen had dated on and off all through college. Lucien had been around for the entire disastrous thing.

She wasn’t as close to Lucien as Feyre was, but Lucien had always been an important part of Elain’s life. He’d always bought her flower seeds and pastries when she was down. He would drive her to the library on rainy days. He was at every party in college, living it up and chasing unwanted idiots off her and her sisters.

He walked with her in Feyre’s wedding, being both friends to the bride and groom. She was at the hospital with him the night of his wreck senior year. His father was her first client when she opened her business. His mother her second.

But life took them in separate directions, Elain and Graysen got back together for the last time and Lucien just kind of…stopped coming around.

“He’s a bastard,” Lucien uttered as they arrived at their vehicles. “And he can’t hit his squats.”

Elain laughed. “Can’t all have thighs like yours Dump Truck,” she said with a smile, using his old high school nickname.

Lucien threw his head back and laughed uproariously.

“You know, I always did wonder where that shirt went,” he said, pointing to the flannel she currently had on. “Though how the hell you’re wearing that thing in this heat, I don’t understand.”

Elain looked down at it and grinned. “You don’t remember? You gave it to me after Jurian threw me in the pool at that kegger freshman year of college,” she said, ignoring his last comment. He didn’t need to know how it comforted her to wear it.

“You were in a white dress. Seemed like the right thing to do,” he shrugged. He had a lazy smirk still plastered to his face as he leaned against the side of his sedan.

“So, you do remember,” Elain narrowed her eyes at him.

“Guess so.”

“Then why’d you say you wondered where it went?” she asked exasperated. She sat her drinks down on the hood of her red truck.

“Something to say, I guess.”

Elain shook her head. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think he was flirting with her. She did though. Lucien had only ever seen her as he saw Feyre, a silly little sister he had to take care of.

“Thank you, Lucien,” Elain said genuinely as she unlocked her truck door.

“What for?” he teased. He didn’t move, just stayed against his sedan, watching her with those rich reddish-brown eyes.

“The coffee, the scone, helping me out of an awkward situation.” She paused and gestured to her chest. “The shirt.”

He shrugged. “It was the right thing to do. You looked like you were gonna throw up or stab him.”

Elain giggled. “Which time?”

“Both,” Lucien chuckled. “Same look, different guy.”

“Well, I appreciate it,” Elain said softly. “Both times.”

“No problem, sweet-tart.”

She couldn’t help smiling at him. Lucien was kind. Fun. “My hero,” she said rolling her eyes dramatically. He chuckled.

She needed to leave. She needed to get in her truck, back out, and get to the library before the heat got any worse. She couldn’t make herself do it. Not with him smiling like that.

“I’m not getting my shirt back am I?”

“It’s been six years, Dump Truck. Give up.” He laughed again. Big and bold. She liked it. “I’ll see you around?” she asked, turning to get into her truck. She had to force herself to move.

“Yep, in about ten minutes,” Lucien said with a smile. Her hand stalled on the silver door handle.

Elain cocked her head in confusion. Lucien’s smile only widened.

“Pops said you needed help,” he said, voice low and dangerously close to making her swoon. “Looks like I get to be your hero a little longer.”

“Two weeks! Two fucking weeks after you broke up?”

An older woman on the treadmill three machines down shot the three of them a dirty look. Elain mouthed “I’m sorry” before turning back to her sister. “Nesta, keep it down.”

“Like hell,” Nesta spat, flicking her long brown hair over her shoulder. “I own the place. I’ll talk however I want to.”

After leaving the coffee shop, Elain went straight to the library, followed closely by Lucien’s silver sedan. Her two guys were already there, shovels and rakes in hand. So was another man, who she could vaguely remember as being Lucien’s older half-brother Aodhan. He was shorter than Lucien, with brown hair not red. He was also missing the top part of his left ear. Per Helion’s instructions, she said nothing about it.

She’d shaken the cobwebs from her head and began to bark orders. She put her guys doing technical work, like trimming the hedges, weed eating and edging the property. When Helion came out ten minutes later, she made him get out the old zero turn he let her borrow and mow the entire lawn. The two brothers she put on hauling mulch, bags of topsoil, and garden stones.

All in all, they managed to get done in record time. Every one of them were drenched in sweat and red as a beet. Elain had never been so thankful for the heat. Her face had been scarlet for hours, ever since Lucien whipped his black top off ten minutes into the job, exposing a massive expanse of golden-brown muscle. When he commented on her flush, she brushed it off as the sun disagreeing with her pale skin.

She went home after, to shower and eat and maybe nap. Anything to get her mind off the sweat dripping down Lucien’s spine as he hauled a bag of topsoil across the lawn and the surprisingly dirty thought she had of tracing its path with her tongue.

Predictably, her mind bounced from one extreme to the other. She drifted back to that morning, and her interaction with Graysen. She couldn’t believe she did know that he’d gotten married.

So, she did what any woman in shoes would do. She wound up in a social media deep dive that was borderline stalking.

Graysen’s page turned out to be an information desert. Cora’s was also surprisingly sparse. There were lots of photos of cheerleading competitions, a few of her family – all beautiful – and a ton dedicated to a dachshund named Buttercup. Nothing actually personal.

Finally, after a good hour of deep diving into her ex’s life – something she’d swore she wouldn’t do after the breakup – Elain hit paydirt.

An obscure friend of a friend of a friend, who Elain didn’t even bother to remember their name, had posted a photo of a Graysen and Cora’s wedding, two weeks to the day that he broke up with Elain.

She read every single comment under the post. Then she put on her gym clothes – an adorable neon pink matching shorts and bra set, with a baggy band shirt – and left to find Nesta.

“You sure you can trust whoever posted it?” Gwyneth Berdara – her sister’s best friend — huffed out on the stair climber beside her. Elain liked the redhead. She was quiet and friendly, but a firecracker when pushed. She was a good foil for her sister’s outright bitchiness.

“Yeah, I knew he moved out west,” Elain managed out as she worked through her exhaustion. “Apparently, she’s from out there. I found the engagement announcement online.”

“Why bother with an announcement at all with how fast they got married?” Nesta spat. Her anger was rising, Elain could tell by the silver sheen crossing her sisters blue-grey eyes.

“They got engaged on Christmas,” Elain stated. She waited for it to sink in.

“You broke up in September,” Nesta said finally, voice cold as ice. She slowed to a stop on her machine.

“We did,” Elain nodded, trudging on the stairs.

A beat.

“That motherfucker!” Gwyn shouted.

The old woman on the treadmill threw her hands up and stalked off mumbling. She’d likely left to find the owner, Cassian, who would likely tell her he had as much control over his wife and her friends as he did the weather.

“Language, Berdara!” the deep voice of their trainer barked as Azriel turned the corner into the room. He stopped by Gwyn’s machine and leaned his tall frame around it, facing Elain. “Who are we calling a motherfucker?”

“Why do you get to say it?” Gwyn complained, shoving at him while still keeping pace. Azriel stepped back and ran an olive-colored hand into his black curls.

“I’m not yelling,” he stated drily. He pointed to the logo on his shirt. “And I work here.”

“Shouldn’t that make you less able to curse?” Gwyn asked, teal eyes narrowing as she glared at their trainer.

“Elain’s ex,” Nesta interrupted from the other side, still seething.

“Why do we care?” Azriel asked, ignoring Gwyn’s question. One dark eyebrow disappeared behind the black curls twisting over his face like shadows as he faced Elain. “You guys broke up over a year ago.”

“Because he lied to me,” Elain grunted, stomping at the machine, as if it were the cause of all of her problems. She was struggling now. It was one thing to think they’d broken up amicably. It was another to admit that he’d lied to her. He’d cheated on her. “He got engaged at Christmas.”

Azriel shrugged, “he moves fast I guess.” Gwyn groaned and slapped the emergency stop on her machine.

“The fucking useless douchecanoe shit stain on the underwear of existence was cheating on Elain the whole time they were together, you thick, beautiful fucking dumbass,” Gwyn snapped, shoving her index finger into Azriel’s chest to emphasize each word.

Elain slowed to a stop; eyes opened impossibly wide. She’d never known anyone outside Cassian or Rhysand to speak to Azriel that way.

Azriel was slack jawed. Gwyn was breathing heavy, finger still shoved into his chest.

“I…” he started. His voice was breathy, low, as if the words were stuck. Hazel eyes bored holes into Gwyn’s baby blues, “am so sorry Elain.”

She did not believe for a single second that he gave any thought to her. His tongue came out to swipe at his lower lip. Gwyn’s hand slowly fisted into the top he was wearing, right over the logo he’d pointed out earlier.

Elain whipped her head around to her sister and mouthed the word “when?” She discretely pointed between the the red head and the bodybuilder.

Nesta shrugged, a wide grin on her face, and shook her head. “Now?” she mouthed back.

“I feel like I’m interrupting something.”

Elain knew that voice. Had heard it all day long.

She looked away from her sister to where Lucien had walked up beside her machine.

Holy fuck.

She’d thought he looked nice earlier, shirtless and in jeans. But now…Lucien in athletic shorts was…almost better than coffee.

“No, we’re good,” Azriel said, not breaking eye contact with Gwyn. “I’ll meet you by the squat rack, Vanserra.” He grabbed Gwyn’s hand on his chest and leaned in. He whispered something in her ear and the red head actually wobbled.

“You good, Gwyn?” Nesta asked slyly.

The woman in question nodded. “Uh yeah, I just…forgot to eat lunch. Gonna go…fix that now,” she said before hopping off the stair climber. “I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, catch you later Gwyn,” Nesta waved her off.

Elain couldn’t help but notice that while she was talking to Nesta, she kept glancing back to Azriel. She also noticed the slight tilt of his head as he walked off.

“Okay then,” Lucien stared for a moment before shrugging.

“How are you not exhausted?” Elain asked him before she could stop herself.

Lucien grinned, rubbing his shoulder. “I’ve always had really high endurance,” he remarked, then winked at her. “Can’t help but notice you’re here, too.”

“I bounce back quick,” she quipped, unable to hide the little grin tugging at her lips.

“Hurry up, Vanserra!” Azriel called out. Lucien shrugged, nodded acknowledgement at Nesta and sauntered off to the weight racks with the visibly agitated trainer.

“When the fuck did that happen?” Nesta hissed, pointing at Lucien’s back.

Elain followed her finger to where Lucien had started to cool off at Azriel’s instruction.

Elain laughed brightly. “That has never happened. He just helped me out today at the library job. Well, and with Graysen.” She added as an afterthought.

“Helped you with Graysen?” Nesta quirked a brow.

The sisters resumed their climb. Elain wasn’t sure how long they’d be going today, she always just followed Nesta’s lead. Some days it was quick. Some days she couldn’t move when she got home.

“Yeah, he saved me from the whole encounter. Pretended to be with me, bought me a coffee and scone. Gray was starting to look like a tomato before we got out of there,” Elain smiled. Nesta gave her a side-eye.

“Pretended huh?”

“Don’t you start,” Elain warned. She hated her sisters’ meddling. From their attempts to set her up with moody Azriel, to dragging her clubbing all over the tri-county area, to one horrible incident involving a bag of flaming dog shit on an ex’s porch, she was done with letting them get involved in her love life.

“Whatever you say, Elain,” Nesta murmured unconvinced.

They continued their steps in easy quiet, the silence broken only by huffing and groaning. It was shaping up to be an ice bath kind of day, the rate they were going.

Elain tried to get her mind off the burn in her calves or the way her sweaty hair kept clinging to her face. She kept glancing around the gym, watching the television in the corner playing basketball or trying to look out the windows at the sunset. Her eyes were traitors though. They kept going back to the weights. Where Lucien and Azriel were warming up, directly in front of them.

Lucien had already taken his shirt off, the blue fabric flung across one of the chairs lining the back wall. His wine-red hair was braided away from his face and knotted at the top. He was wearing gray shorts.

Short, gray, athletic shorts that left nothing to the imagination. His thighs were on full display and Elain, for the first time since she’d heard her sister start calling him it, fullyunderstood why he was called Dump Truck. They were sculpted, thick and led up to an ass she wanted desperately to sink her teeth into.

She didn’t want to look at the front. She was scared to look at the front. The man had to have a shortcoming somewhere.

Nesta whistled. “You think Feyre ever tapped that?” she stage whispered, breaking the very comfortable silence in the most awkward way possible.

“What? No!” Elain exclaimed. Lucien glanced up. He tossed her a grin and a little wave before readying himself for a pullup. She hoped like hell he couldn’t hear them.

“Oh, come on, they used to spend all that time together. They were practically inseparable,” Nesta drawled out. Had Elain been paying attention, maybe she would’ve seen the sly smirk gracing her otherwise elegant sister’s face.

“She was with Tamlin,” Elain pointed out. Her face twisted into a scowl. “Lucien would’ve never havedone that to Tamlin.”

“She wasn’t always with Tamlin,” Nesta sing-songed. “Remember when he keyed up her car? He told Jurian it was because he caught them in bed together.”

Elain tripped again. She hadn’t heard that. She’d never heard that. “Lucien admitted that?”

“No. Tamlin told Jurian he walked in on the two of them,” Nesta explained slowly. She waved a hand dismissively. “But that is just rumor.”

It better be, she caught herself thinking. She wasn’t sure where the possessiveness came from. Wasn’t sure she didn’t like it though.

“It better be, huh?” Nesta teased, answering her thoughts. Or, what she apparently had let slip through.

Lucien was breaking her concentration. It was his fault. Yes. His fault.

“What is he even doing here?” Elain tried to divert her sister’s attention. She did not want to talk about whatever feelings she may or may not have for Lucien Vanserra.

“Cass swiped him,” Nesta sighed, allowing herself to take the bait. Elain quirked a brow. Her sister pointed to Lucien. “Cassian wanted him on as an investor in the beginning. I put my foot down. Didn’t want Vanserra money if it meant being tied to Eris in any way.”

“Oh.” Elain understood that. Eris and Nesta had a … thing, once before. It didn’t end well. It was just another one of the many ways Lucien had been around forever.

“Yeah, anyway we ran into Lucien the other night at the movies. He was busy telling Feyre about how he couldn’t work out at the office gym anymore and Cass swooped in. Got a new client and Lucien agreed to a small investment in the business.”

“He…couldn’t work out at the office gym?” Elain asked quietly.

Nesta shook her head. “Didn’t ask why. I just overhead him say he’d kill something or someone if he went back.”

He’d mentioned something earlier, but it would entirely too self-absorbed of her to think he couldn’t work out there anymore because of Graysen.

“Are you ok? Honestly?” Nesta asked, her soft voice barely heard over the whirring of the machine.

Elain sighed. “No. I’m angry,” she admitted, for the first time out loud. “He lied to me. For a very long time, apparently. And he did such a good job of it I never questioned it.”

She could feel the tightness in her chest building. She was angry. At Graysen for lying, at herself for falling for it. Strangely, there was no jealousy. She’d let that part go. Let him go. She wasn’t sure how easy it would be to let the anger go, though.

“He’s just…such a douchecanoe,” she hissed, using Gwyn’s earlier term.

“Do you want me to stab him?” Nesta asked seriously beside her. “We’ll call Rhys to hide the body.”

Elain blinked at her big sister. Nesta slowly cracked a smile, and they both erupted into a fit of giggles. Tears of some twisted mirth sprung to Elain’s eyes.

“Thank you, Nes,” she smiled, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “You know Rhys isn’t mafia.”

“We don’t know that,” Nesta said conspiratorially. She winked one blue-grey eye. “And besides, even if he wasn’t –“

“Which he’s not.”

“—he’d do it anyway. He loves us,” Nesta paused for a second, smirking, “well he loves you. And he loves Feyre and Cassian both enough not to fuck with me.”

“You know one day we’re going to walk in on the two of you in matching pjs, wearing face masks and watching ‘Mean Girls’ together,” Elain sighed out rolling her eyes. She’d never understand her sister’s relationship with their brother-in-law.

“Elain, honey, you know that wouldn’t happen. Rhys and I are far more ‘The Devil Wear’s Prada’ type,” Nesta said in a faux-haughty tone that had Elain laughing again.

This was why she sought out her sister. Nesta was her rock. They lapsed back into a companionable silence, working out beside each other while watching Azriel correct Lucien’s pull up form. She knew Nesta never missed an opportunity to ogle Azriel when he was training – and unfortunately was aware of how good a night Cassian would have. Typically, Elain would be right there watching the tall, dark trainer in utter appreciation as well.

Today though, she took the opportunity to watch the muscles in Lucien’s back work.

She’d spent a large portion of her workday dreaming about those muscles. The way sweat traveled over the striations. The way she imagined they might feel under her fingers. Her core started to ache as she watched his face, reddened from the exertion, twist into a determined grimace. She could easily imagine that same face over her, working hard to keep his own orgasm at bay as he pounded into her –

“Well, you know the best way to get over someone is get under someone else,” her sister interjected, breaking Elain of her reverie.

Oh God, please don’t let her have said something else out loud.

“What?” Elain asked in a daze. Nesta said nothing, just arched one flawless brow and inclined her head towards where Elain had been focused. “I’m already over Graysen! I’m mad at the lies, Nesta!”

“So? Sex is a fantastic way to work off frustration,” Nesta crooned, reaching up to shut off her machine. “Come on, we’re done for the night. Let’s go cool down.”

Elain walked down the hall of her sister’s gym rubbing her neck. Nesta had turned their cool down into a thirty-minute yoga session. She had adopted her husband’s obsession with stretching, and Elain often had to suffer for it.

Nesta had deposited Elain in her own personal office, pointing out a small wardrobe with a handful of spare clothes. She had said that Cassian had a late meeting with an athletic director from the college looking for a better outfit for conditioning and weight training. As soon as Nesta made her appearance and went over the financials, she’d be free to take her sister out for drinks.

“And hopefully find you a rebound,” Nesta had added with a wink.

Elain had passably cleaned up. Nesta’s clothes always fit a little loose in the chest, but this dress was a wrap, thankfully.

“The place is really lovely,” a low, melodic voice drifted around the corner up ahead of her.

Elain blinked for a moment. She vaguely recognized that voice, but she couldn’t quite remember where from.

It had been a long day.

“You said the locker rooms are this way, right?”

“Yes ma’am, let me show you Mrs. Lorde,” Cassian’s booming voice carried, maybe a little louder than necessary. As if he wanted to be heard.

Realization dawned on Elain just as the shadows of two people, one tall and bulky the other petite and lithe, became visible.

Nesta’s office was in the same hall, right past the locker rooms. Nesta had been in a meeting with Cassian and some athletic director.

Elain had been in Nesta’s office.

Oh shit, Cassian was trying to warn her.

Oh fuck…Mrs. Lorde.

Elain had glossed over it in the woman’s bio, the little tidbit of information irrelevant as she was too busy hunting for evidence of Graysen’s infidelity. But it was coming back to her now

All the photographs of smiling cheerleaders – smiling college cheerleaders.

Cora Lorde was the athletic director of the cheer department at the local college.

Cora was Graysen’s wife who seemingly had no idea her husband had been leading a double life.

Cora was walking down the hallway that very second to look at the locker rooms.

She saw a foot round in the corner and ducked into the nearest door.

Straight into said locker room.

Someone else was in there, too. She was vaguely aware of hearing the shower running as panic overtook her hearing.

She squeaked for just a moment and survey the room for the best hiding spot. As she wasn’t flexible enough to fold herself into the lockers, the shower stalls were really the only place available. Surely the woman wouldn’t want to check the conditions of the stalls.

She ran to the closest shower stall door, shoved it open just enough to slide into and quickly closed it, throwing the lock into place. She released a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. She was in the clear.

She kept her eyes on the door and threw her hands out behind her. She intended to back into the corner of the stall, hug the wall and wait for trouble to pass.

Only, her hands didn’t hit the cold tile she was expecting. Confused, Elain spread her fingers along the surface. It was hard and wet and warm…and hairy.

“Fuck me,” she moaned. This was not her fucking day.

“If you insist,” the fleshy, hairy wall behind her murmured in a familiar, smoky voice.

Great. She’d ran into the wrong locker room.

Elain twisted around, coming face to chest with Lucien, again. She meant to tell him to keep his hands to himself, or to scream, or do something. Instead, she stared.

And stared.

Lucien was naked. Completely naked, all that glorious golden skin on display and so close if she stuck out her tongue she could trail it along his chest like she’d been dreaming about all day. He was also wet, water droplets running the length of that powerful body. His broad shoulders blocked the spray from hitting her directly. His hair was loose and drenched.

Elain was in danger.

“As fascinating as this is, I don’t think for one second you’re in here to actually fuck me, Elain,” Lucien said. This close she could see his chest vibrate with his words.

It caused a small stream of water to dislodge from the dip of his collarbone. Elain’s brain, which was already working at half capacity, had finally short circuited the second she realized she was standing in the stall with a naked Lucien fucking Vanserra.

She didn’t hear what he said. Couldn’t hear anything. All of her senses, all of her focus was on that single stream of water flowing down, over his chest into the dips and ridges of his abs, down further until it got lost in the line of red hair trailing down to the edge of what could only be described as the most beautiful dick she’d ever seen.

Lucien’s dick.

Lucien’s very erect dick.

Lucien Vanserra’s very erect, very large dick that was an inch from touching her hand.

“Holy shit,” she breathed. Elain’s legs chose that moment to finally give out, too.

Strong hands shot out to grab her arms, steadying her. He immediately angled his hips backwards to put space between them. Not that it did much good in such a small stall.

“Never had that reaction before,” Lucien chuckled nervously. He cocked his head. “Are you good?”

No, she wasn’t good. Right now she couldn’t decide if she was doing great or she was delusional. How is it that someone that handsome, that kind, that…fucking wonderful also had a dick like that. The universe was not fair.

She couldn’t look away from it. Even though Lucien was trying to angle it away. She felt like a creep, a drooling pathetic creep but … hot damn.

“You’re going to give me a complex, Elain,” Lucien joked shyly. Elain nodded.

“A god-complex,” she whispered reverently. How long had it been since she’d been with anyone? It was Graysen she remembered, at least two months before the breakup.

“Did you just call my cock a god, Elain?” Lucien said astonished. His large hands shook her shoulders gently, breaking her line of sight with his member. Her brown eyes immediately snapped to his. He looked equal parts amused and concerned.

Elain parted her lips, she meant to reply. Honestly, she did. But she heard those familiar voices carrying into the locker room. She jerked around, out of Lucien’s hands and peered down. The shower door would hide their bodies…but not their feet. There was a gap about a foot wide, and this was the first stall in the locker room. If anyone looked, they’d see two sets of feet.

“What is going—”

Elain cut Lucien off by jumping him. Literally.

She scrambled up his tall body, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and locking her feet together behind his waist. Lucien’s hands darted to thighs to keep her steady. He opened his mouth again and Elain began to shake her head viciously.

“COVER YOUR JUNK!” Cassian bellowed. “LADY COMING IN.”

Both of them whipped their heads to the door. Lucien angled his body, trying to keep the water from hitting Elain too badly.

“You sure you want to see in here? We try to keep it looking decent, but the guys can be animals. As you can see both rooms are roughly the same set up,” Cassian’s voice, back to a normal level, still carried as he spoke.

“You said this room had an extra ice bath?” Cora’s voice floated in. Their footsteps were louder, closer. They were standing just a few feet away.

Lucien’s eyes went wide in understanding. He adjusted his grip on her, keeping her flush against him. She dug her fingers into his shoulders.

“Yes ma’am, right this way,” Cassian continued, footsteps carrying him right past the shower stall.

Elain trembled, burying her head in Lucien’s neck. A large, strong hand came up to rub soothingly on her back.

“I don’t have too much longer,” Cora said. Cassian’s footsteps halted. “But I wanted to see, you said this room had a sauna but the women’s doesn’t?”

“Not exactly. It’s a co-ed sauna,” Cassian explained. “Both locker rooms exit into a short hall that leads either to the sauna or the pool.”

“Oh! I understand now! How fantastic!” Cora exclaimed. Elain heard her clap her hands again. “I hate to rush you, Mr. Marcellus but I do need to get out of here.”

“Of course! This way, please.”

Elain held her breath as their footsteps retreated, their voices getting quieter.

“You good?” Lucien whispered in her ear. She shook her head, finally releasing her breath but not raising from his neck. “Want to get down?” A pause. Then she shook her head again. He smelled good. She wanted to stay there.

If she got down, she’d have to face the fact he was naked. That she very much liked that he was naked. That for some reason the universe decided she would be the pincushion they’d poke today, and all she wanted was to be held.

Then preferably held down and fucked by that big, beautiful cock nestled under her ass right now.

So, no. She didn’t want to get down.

“To be honest,” Lucien began to murmur, one hand still running the length of her spine while the other was wrapped around her lower back for support, “I thought I’d have to at least take you on a date before I got you to shower with me.”

Elain looked up cautiously from his neck. Chocolate brown eyes met deep russet. He was smiling. “Y…you thought about taking me on a date?” she asked. Her brain was still mush, still struggling to catch up.

“Elain,” he said her name slowly, reverently. She liked the way his lips moved with the syllables, the way his tongue flicked his teeth on the ‘l’. “I’ve wanted you since the day Jurian threw you in that pool.”

Wait…what?

“Wait…what?” she whispered. Lucien’s responding grin was nothing short of foxlike.

“I’ve been crazy about you, Elain Archeron, since the moment I wrapped my shirt around you. It was the first time you smiled at me. Just me. I’ve been a goner since. And when I saw you in it again today…” he groaned. She felt it as it bubbled up his chest.

“I smiled at you before that,” she whispered again, afraid if she spoke any louder, she’d wake up from this dream.

“Not like that. Not like I was something…special. The only goddamn man in the room. Not like I was your hero,” he rasped out. He was struggling with something. Elain realized she’d been subconsciously rocking her hips against him in the tiniest motion.

“I already told you that you were,” she smiled, rocking her hips gently once again. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Lucien shut his eyes, a muscle in his jaw feathering. He was barely hanging on. “You kept getting back with Lorde.”

Elain’s heart skipped. She brought her small, calloused hand to his chin and tilted it down until he opened his eyes. She hoped to convey everything in her look because words were beyond her. “I’m not with him now.”

“No…you’re not.” Lucien’s eyes fell to her lips, barely a breath separating them.

Elain held his chin, her thumb coming up to caress his bottom lip. “I would’ve chose you,” she breathed against his lips. “Had you said something, Lucien, I would’ve been yours.”

“Elain…” he breathed her name against her lips, the feel of it somehow more erotic than if he had kissed her. His chest was heaving with his breaths, so deep and uneven.

She leaned in, as close as she could without touching. “What are you going to do now?”

Lucien answered by kissing her softly, barely a brush against her lips. It sent lightning down her spine all the same. “I’m going to do exactly what you asked…if you’ll let me.”

“What I asked?” She was breathless, delirious. Her hips still rocked gently into him, his hands now guiding the movement. When had they gotten there?

“When you ran in here…now sweet thing, can you remember what you said?” Lucien teased, voice barely more than a rasp. A smile tugged at the corners of those lips.

She nodded. Oh, she remembered.

Lucien tsked, tapping her thigh with one hand in warning. “Words, please.”

“Fuck me,” Elain demanded, loudly.

“With pleasure,” he growled.

It was an unleashing. Lucien turned, slamming her against the back wall, water now spraying down on the both of them. His mouth slanted over hers, full lips sucking her bottom between the two. She opened for him, letting him deepen the kiss, his tongue claiming her mouth for its own.

He pinned her against the wall with his hips as his hands roamed her bare skin, pulling and tugging her dress open to give him more to touch. One hand ran the length of her body, skimming the side of her breast, her neck, her ear before delving into her golden brown locks and yanking her head back so his lips could wrap around her pulse and bite. One calloused hand slipped under the fabric of her dress, sliding up and up her thigh until it rested on the curve of her ass, kneading the the flesh there.

“Sweetheart…where are your panties?” He breathed against her neck, tongue slipping out to lick a long stripe up to her ear.

Her giggle turned to a moan. “I…I don’t wear them to the gym.”

Lucien’s answering groan was nothing short of pornographic. He wrapped his large hand around the sweep of her ass cheek, squeezing and spreading while his pelvis ground into her. She could feel that cock, now somehow sandwiched between them. She’d been too delirious to know how it had gotten there. Until that moment her hands had barely left his shoulders or left the tangle of his long red hair.

She had to feel him. Had to touch him. The urge was overwhelming.

She reached down, fingertips skimming the top of the rounded head of his cock. He was weeping at the slit. She gathered the liquid with her index finger and used it as lubrication, rubbing it around the sensitive head. The tip alone was large, the length of him thick and long. She was fascinated with the silky, hard feel of him.

Elain relished in the strangled cry Lucien gave into her neck as his mouth worked her pulse there. She wrapped him in her hand and began to pump. He jerked, once, twice in her hand. She squeezed a bit tighter, made another pass around the top when his larger hand snaked between them and stopped her. He gently pried her hand off him.

“I’m not going to last,” he breathed heavily next to her temple, “all day…all my fucking life I’ve been dreaming of this. There’s no way … I won’t last if you keep on.” He began to lower her feet to the tiled floor.

One calloused hand came up to cradle her cheek, running his thumb along her jaw. The other ripped the last tie holding her dress together. The dress finally fluttered open, revealing her sun kissed skin and total lack of undergarments.

Lucien groaned. “You’re so fucking perfect,” he growled. He bent down under the spray, taking one peaked nipple in his mouth, nipping and sucking. The other he took in his hand, kneading and pulling at the flesh until Elain whimpered.

She reached for him, but he angled his hips away again. “Nuh-uh,” he mouthed around her breast. He took one long, biting suck before pulling off with a pop. “Give him some time to cool off before I embarrass myself, sweetheart.” He moved his head to her other breast. “Give me some time to appreciate these gorgeous tits, huh?”

She nodded, bringing her hands up to tangle in his hair, nudging his head back towards his intended goal.

Taking her lead, Lucien’s mouth descended on her previously neglected breast and went to work keying her up. He alternated between flicking the nipple with his tongue, nibbling at the soft flesh, or downright sucking it. His hands stroked down her sides, skimming her curves, nails grazing as he worked up and down. The sensations were intense, overwhelming. She’d never come from nipple stimulation alone, but…fuck.

One hand slipped between her legs, long fingers slipping between her folds. The second his finger hit the slick of her his head pulled away from her chest and came to rest against her forehead.

“You are so fucking wet,” he moaned, eyes shut tight. “Is that for me?”

“No,” she lied breathlessly. “Watching Azriel work out got me all hot and bothered.”

“Yeah?” he asked, cracking open his eyes. His fingers didn’t stop their slow movements. Up and down the seam of her, not once touching her clit or her opening, carefully avoiding where she wanted him most. “You’re such a pretty little liar.”

“What makes you think I’m lying?” she tried to sound offended, but his teasing fingers stole her resolve.

“Azriel wasn’t at the library, Elain,” he chuckled darkly, his eyes boring into hers. “I saw how you kept looking at me when I was working.”

“How…how was I looking at you?” Her breath hitched. She tried to move, twist her hips or grind or do anything to get him to touch her where she wanted. She pulled his hair, raked her nails along his skin, but he was steady. Undeterred.

He dipped his head down to the curve of her ear and whispered. “Like you were in that weight room. Like I was a piece of fresh meat.”

“Felt…objectified, did you?” she whined. He pinned her hips back against the tiled wall with his free hand. Lucien nodded sardonically, parting his lips to no doubt give some asshole response. “Want to know a secret?” she interrupted him, voice shaking.

She leaned up as close as he allowed her, her lips grazing his jaw. She’d never been good at dirty talk. Graysen had hated it. She had no idea if Lucien would find this hot or tell her to shut up. “I had to take my panties off in my car after the coffee shop.” He went still, breath frozen in his chest. “I’ve been so wet for you all day, Lucien, that it’s been rubbing me raw,” she moaned, laying it on a little thick but he seemed too far gone to notice.

She took a deep breath and nipped at his jaw. “So won’t you please stop with the teasing and just fuck me already?”

Lucien said nothing. He trembled in her arms for a moment, as if to collect himself. He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes again. She could’ve sworn there was literal fire staring back at her. In one swift movement, with no warning, Lucien filled her with his long middle finger. His pointer and ring finger held her open while he twisted slightly, crooking that middle finger and dragging it down inside her.

Elain nearly screamed. He quickly covered her mouth with his own, swallowing the sound. His tongue swept in, licking the length of her mouth while his finger pistoned in and out, dragging down with each thrust. It was incredible, but she needed more. Felt so selfish that she needed more.

She wiggled her butt and Lucien obliged, adding another finger, stretching her deliciously. She could feel how tight she was around his fingers; how great the stretch was. She knotted her fingers in his hair, tugging, keeping him against her.

He'd moved in closer, no longer angling himself away. He ground his cock against her hip for just a bit of his own relief as his fingers dragged her closer and closer to orgasm. She reached again for him, and he grabbed her hand, pinning it over her head, lacing their fingers together. Lucien shook his head against her, a clear no. He delved his tongue back in her mouth.

Elain moaned obscenely as he began to fuck her mouth in time with the fingers fucking her cunt. He devoured it, drinking in her sounds like a dying man. Just as she began to tremble, that weight in her core building and building, Lucien thrust in a third finger, scissoring the three a bit, stretching her beyond anything any man had ever done. He was readying her for his cock, she realized. She was almost a goner right then with that thought.

Then Lucien ground the heel of his hand against her swollen clit as he thrust those fingers one last time. Her released slammed into her harder than she’d ever felt before. She saw stars. Every muscle in her body contracted, her abs caving in on themselves, her legs shaking uncontrollably. She may have screamed. She’d opened her mouth but either no sound come out, or the pounding of her heart in her ears was so loud she could hear nothing else.

Lucien hauled her against him, holding her tight between him and the wall, stroking her sides in soothing gestures as she started to come down.

“You with me?” he laughed shit-eating grin spread across that handsome face.

Elain nodded deliriously. “H-holy shit. Holy fucking shit. I’ve never … never…” she trailed off, head shaking, legs still trembling. Lucien laughed again, the sound the sweetest thing she’d ever heard.

“Should I stop?” he murmured before he kissed her gently one more time.

Elain shook her head viciously. “I’ll kill you,” she hissed, nails digging into his shoulders. “If you fucking stop now, Lucien Vanserra, I will kill you.”

Lucien erupted in laughter beside her, his whole body shaking. The movement rocked through her as well, and Elain was acutely aware of him still holding her up and open. He had been lining up his cock against her entrance, the tip she had been playing with gliding through her slick. Now, he was holding back. She tilted forward a bit, dragging her still quivering cunt over the head.

“I don’t have a condom, Elain,” he whispered tightly, moving his hips so his cock ground into her slickness broadside, giving her delicious friction. “I am clean though. Haven’t…haven’t in a while, and I’ve been checked since.”

“I’m on birth control,” she said quickly. “I get checked once a year. I’m good.” She was going to die if he didn’t get inside her.

Lucien grinned, lining them up, leaning down to take her mouth in his as he slammed home with one powerful stroke.

Oh fuck…

“OH MY FUCKING GOD, ARE YOU SERIOUSLY FUCKING IN MY LOCKER ROOM RIGHT NOW?” Cassian voice thundered through the locker room.

Elain froze up, her pussy clamping down so hard on Lucien’s cock they both had to bite the other to keep from screaming. One hand shot passed her head to steady them as Lucien’s legs began to shake.

What did she do to the universe? Was she a puppy killer in a past life? Did she burn down a village full of orphans? Had she stepped on too many cracks and her dead mother was torturing her from beyond the grave?

“I’m running a gym, not a goddamn whorehouse, Azriel Singer!” Cassian swore, walking passed their stall. “Vanserra’s showering in here for fuck’s sake.”

“LUCIEN WAS LISTENING?” a high-pitched voice squealed from somewhere further down.

No…no way. There was no fucking way that this was actually happening.

Elain knew that voice.

She bit Lucien’s shoulder harder to keep from making noise. Her body trembled with silent laughter, sending vibrations through her core, which felt so…fucking…good. She just couldn’t enjoy it. Lucien made a small, strangled sound as his hips seemed to involuntarily jerk forward. She felt his cock jump, his body tense and his release fill her.

That fucker just orgasmed.

She tried to look at him, but he was hiding his face in her neck. She shoved at him. He raised up sheepishly, golden skin nearly as red as his hair. A rush of fluid escaped her as he gently pulled out but didn’t set her down. I am so sorry, he mouthed.

“I didn’t know shit!” he yelled, voice cracking. Elain held on tight, trying her hardest to fight off a grin. Lucien looked like he was slowly losing it.

“Get out Cassian,” she heard Azriel growl. “No one’s going anywhere with you standing in here.”

A low huff. “Works for me, just stop fucking in my gym!”

“We’ll stop when you stop,” she heard Azriel yell as footsteps retreated out of the locker room. Elain sighed, slumping against Lucien. Poor Lucien, who was still trying to avoid eye contact.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” Azriel called out again.

She froze again, inadvertently clawing Lucien once more. His eyes finally met hers. “The fuck you mean?” Lucien asked for her, just as freaked as she was.

“You’re pretty loud, Elain,” the woman said with a laugh.

Elain and Lucien untangled from each other. Lucien wrapped a towel around his waist, his still flagging cock still large enough to tent the fabric. Elain wrapped her wet dress back around her, long enough she figured until she could reach the towel rack.

They stepped out of the stall.

Azriel and Gwyn were standing there, both with mussed hair and angry red marks, sharing satisfied smiles. Azriel still had the rope of one of the spa robes tied around his wrist. “Looks like you had fun,” Lucien remarked, no sign of the embarrassed man from a moment before.

Azriel’s grin threatened to split his face. Gwyn just brushed her leggings off, a little self-satisfied smirk playing on her own face.

Elain couldn’t say anything.

She was suddenly hyperaware of everything that had happened in the last fifteen minutes. Lucien being quick off the mark. Her own powerful orgasm – which apparently, she was screaming—and the fact she used Azriel’s name while Lucien had his fingers on her pussy.

Yup. She had to have been a puppy killer in a past life. She wondered if she passed out right now, if everyone would forget they heard anything at all.

“It’s totally cool, Elain,” Gwyn laughed, laying a delicate hand on her partner’s shoulder. “Azriel makes me horny all the time.”

“I’m going to die now,” she moaned. Lucien wrapped an arm around her, possessively, pulling her into his side. It was comforting.

“Nah, don’t be embarrassed,” Azriel said in a near sickly sweet tone. He was such an ass when he wanted to be. “It was a good line.”

“How come we didn’t hear you?” Lucien asked, trying to throw attention off of them. His face was slowly returning to its normal hue.

“I gagged him,” Gwyn stated, matter of fact, shrugging her thin shoulders. “And having a twin sister constantly around means you learn to be quiet.”

Elain and Lucien just stared in confusion. She couldn’t speak for Lucien, but Elain just had so many questions. She opened and closed her mouth a few times. She felt like a fish gasping for air, but she just couldn’t make the words come out.

“We were fucking in front of the security cameras,” Azriel answered their silent question. He pointed to the other end of the locker room. “There’s a camera on the storage room on the other side of the lockers. We’ve got equipment in there there Cass wants surveilled, so no…we aren’t pervs with cameras in the showers. It’s not even really in the locker room.”

Elain cocked her head. Honest to God that thought hadn’t even crossed her mind. “Why in front of the cameras?” Lucien asked for her, pulling her in a little closer.

“He ate your sister out on my desk last week,” Azriel stated plainly, turning to point at Gwyn. “She just fucked me on a new machine he has to assemble.”

“You’re evil,” Lucien chuckled. “But we owe you one.”

Azriel nodded. “I want Eris’s address.”

All three heads turned to Azriel. Even Gwyn looked at him skeptically. “Why for?” she was the one who asked. Lucien quirked a brow, awaiting the answer as well.

Azriel shrugged. “He pisses me off.”

Elain and Gwyn traded incredulous looks. Gwyn opened her mouth, no doubt to tell her partner how stupid he sounded, when Lucien began to nod. “Totally reasonable,” he muttered approvingly. “I’ll text it to you.”

“Good man,” Azriel tugged at Gwyn’s hand. “Round two?” Gwyn’s answer was a smirk that could only be described as devious.

“Cassian and Nesta are going out for drinks,” Elain offered as she wrapped her arm around Lucien’s waist.

“Fuck yes,” Az said laughing, dragging a giggling Gwyn out of the locker room.

Elain turned to Lucien, “so…”

“I was already so hyped up, and you were so tight – oh my god Elain I’ve never in my life … and then you laughed. Do you have any idea what that feels like when you laugh?” Lucien began rambling. His eyes were wild, and the pink began to creep up his neck. “I’ve never done that before…I swear I –”

“Lucien!” Elain finally shouted, grabbing him by his chin once again. She gently urged him to look at her. “It’s ok. Just…what now?”

Lucien stepped closer, until she had to tilt her head back to see him. He smiled sheepishly. “I meant what I said. I’m crazy about you, Elain.”

“And I meant what I said,” she said breathlessly. “I really do think you’re my hero.”

“Come home with me?” Lucien urged, hugging her to his mostly naked body. “Let me make it up to you.”

“For the night?”

“Forever.”

#acotar #elain archeron #elucien #lucien vanserra #modern au #azriel #gwyneth berdara #nesta archeron #cassian acotar #elucienweek2023 #prompt: au

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pumpkzsafeplace · 1 month

Text

topic tuesday - UPDATES.

i don't even know how to start this topic tuesday.

i'm that digusted.

trigger warning is highly advised!!

ᯓ★

in this past week alone, the death toll suprasses 32,000 (not included the 8,000 that are missing and burried under the rubble).

I.F raided Al-Shifa Hosptial on the 18th March where 30,000 palestians were shelting. they shot snipers at those fleeding despite giving the order to evacuate.

200+ civillians were abducted. they were stripped, blindforled and taken to unclosed locations to be beaten and abused.

8 I.A killed 100+ aid workers in the past week + I.F massacred 23 aid seekers at Kuwaiti roundabout (tnorth Gaza)

on the 4th day of the siege on Al-Shifa hospital, 140+ palestinians were killed and 600 people were abducted (incliuding medcial staff). 13 patients of the hospital were killed because I cut off electricity which deprived them of oxygen, medicine and food.

on the 22nd March, I. seized 1,977 acres of land in the wast bank for settlement expansion which is the largest land theft since 1993.

on the 23rd March, eyewitness reports recounts I. soilders raping, toruting and executing women in the hosptial. as well as Dr Muhammad al-nono when he regused to abadoned his patients. I.F used Palestians as human sheilfs, forcing them to form barriers between the IOF soilders and military vehciles. they also set fires to peoples homes near the hosptial with people trapped inside.

25th March, I.F escelates attacson 'safe zone' Rafah killing 30+ (including women and children) as the amid threats of looming ground invasion. They also opened fire on medical staff forced to ecacuate al-amal hopstial amid constinous attacks on the premises.

CEASEFIRE NOW

gif isn't mine

#agere blog #agere community #age regression #agere little #pumpkinposts #topictuesday #news

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