#i think i burned myself out from studying yesterday

[hamiltonaf]

bestfriends to lovers lewis?🥹

Wingman | Lewis Hamilton

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x BF ! Female Reader

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: Slow burn

A/N: Hello loves ! Sorry for the delay, I believe I re-wrote this like 5 times because I had so many different scenarios in mind. I was so overwhelmed and finally settled on this. Nonetheless, I hope you babes enjoy. Requests are still open .xx

(Y/N/N) - Your Nickname

Nothing is harder than trying to hide your true feelings from your best friend. Well, theirs nothing to really hide considering how our relationship is, definitely not the same as my other guy friends. I’m fully convinced that everyone cracked that I have feelings for Lewis, except Lewis himself. Whoever said that guys and girls can be friends…they LIED.

Our friendship started about 2 years ago when Miles had introduced Lewis and I at Coachella. Miles and I go back a long way through our parents, we’ve been close ever since but just friends, nothing more. Miles knew about my love for F1 from early days and especially being a big fan of Lewis, he made sure that we’d meet some day since that’s his best friend after all.

I distinctly remember what felt like yesterday, we had the best weekend at Coachella and I was quite surprised how quickly Lewis and I grew on each other. Unfortunately, I rarely saw him since I had studying and work to do at the time, however that didn’t stop us from texting and video calling almost every day. That all changed earlier this year when I was done studying and I had a remote job so I had a lot more free time on my hands. I actually shared the news with Lewis first when I got my new job, he was so thrilled that he insisted that I now have no excuse not to attend more races.

What started off as friendly banter turned into flirting and teasing from time to time, if a total stranger saw us together they’d assume we’re a couple. Lol I wish. I have no clue what I’m doing wrong for him not to take a hint, unless he’s not interested in being in a relationship or worse case scenario… he has his eyes on someone else, but surely he’d tell me right ? I mean we’re best friends… or are we ?

That brings us to the present moment. It’s the Monaco GP weekend and you can imagine that almost every A list celebrity is here. Besides my love for F1, I’m a football fan as well - you can only imagine what would happen to my heart if I spot footballers in the paddock. Friday and Saturday are always quiet of course until Sunday strikes and the paddock is packed.

I was staying over at Lewis’ place for the weekend - no joke when I say we had a full on argument about me staying at a hotel when I can literally walk to the paddock since Monaco is so small. Of course he won the argument. Get my point when I say that people would think we’re a couple ?

It’s race morning, Lewis and I were getting ready not knowing what was going to occur the minute we’re about to leave. “(Y/N/N) are you ready ?” He called from the lounge. “Yep ! Just give me a sec” I yelled as I grabbed my phone and bag. I stopped in my track the second I saw that we were both wearing purple. “Are you kidding me ?” I said to myself. “You stole my look” he accused. “Excuse me ? I literally didn’t see what you’re wearing until now” I said defensively. “I’m just playing. You look beautiful and it’s cute that we besties are matching” he smiled. “Aww thanks Lew, but I have to change because everyone is going to think that we planned this” I said as I rushed back into the room to search for something else.

“Just forget about it, I’m changing as soon as I get to the garage in my team shirt and besides that we’re running late” he said as he grabbed me by my hand and pulled me along with him out the door to the elevator. “But Lew” I whined. He cupped my cheeks as he said, “Stop worrying about other people, focus on the positive..you got me and I’ll always have your back no matter what.” He gave me a quick wink and dropped his hands when we reached the ground floor. Not gonna lie that I had literal butterflies for those few seconds.

We drove to the paddock which didn’t take that long. I don’t know why I suddenly felt nervous, my hands started to feel clammy and I could already feel my body temperature rise. “Soo..you go ahead, I’ll meet you at the garage as per usual” I said as i stepped out of the car. “I was thinking we just go together” he smiled as he held his hand out for assistance out of the car. “Uhm are you sure ? People can be quick to assume things and start rumours..” Why can’t I shut up ?

“So what ? I don’t care, as long as you’re by my side” he shrugged. Aww. “Someone is being particularly nice today” I raised a brow at him as we walked towards the paddock entrance. “Pft..I’m always nice” he laughed. “On a normal day you test my patience to the limit with your banter, looks like someone is in a good mood. Don’t worry I won’t spoil it, I’ll make the most out of it” I smirked. As soon as we entered the paddock, we’re flocked by photographers and some fans taking pictures. In the moment I was so overwhelmed, luckily I had my sunglasses on the entire time so I actually ended up walking ahead of Lewis just to get to the garage faster.

I greeted a few mechanics, as well as Bono and Toto. We were lost in conversation that I actually forgot about Lewis coming back. Our conversation came to an end when all of our heads turned to Lewis greeting Neymar and Kylian. Oh my god. I was fangirling internally.

“No frikken way” I lowly said to myself. I started day dreaming and didn’t even realise that Lewis was next to me until he shut my mouth closed. “You’ll catch fly’s love” he half laughed. “Oh my god I can’t believe Neymar and Kylian are here !” I squealed. “You’re into football ?” He furrowed his brows. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t know - you weren’t the only athlete I kept tabs on” I lightly hit his chest. “That hurt my heart” he pouted. “Mine too considering you didn’t introduce me” I scoffed.

“No biggie, we’re meeting them later tonight” he said casually. “Say what now ? You’re lying” I rolled my eyes. Ain’t no way. “I swear” he said in all seriousness as he held out his pinky. “I’ll take your word for it” I linked my pinky with his. “In that case, do you think you could be my wingman ? I wanna know what the hype is about being a football wag” I teasingly suggested. “Uhhh..no” he straightforwardly said. “And why not ?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Because then I’ll have no best friend” he lied as he walked ahead. “Don’t worry, if you be my wingman then I’ll be your wingwoman. I’ll find you a new best friend or better yet, a girlfriend !” I enthusiastically suggested.

“I don’t trust your taste” he said as he entered his drivers room. “Okay then let’s forget about me being your wingwoman. Put in a good word for me” I winked as I took a seat on the couch. “Yeah sure” he sarcastically said as he shook his head.

The day went by so quickly after that, before we knew it the anthem was over and Lewis was already heading out to line up on the grid. Just before he could leave he was talking to Toto for a while, then finally turned to me. “As per usual, I hope you have a safe race. Best of luck bestie” I said first. “And as always..thank you for your support. I really appreciate you coming to races (Y/N/N)” he smiled before pulling me in for a hug. “You could thank me by being my wingman” I played along. “Not this again” he said annoyed as he broke away from our hug. “Don’t let it distract you from racing” I joked. He rolled his eyes at me with a serious look before breaking into a smile, “Bye (Y/N/N) !” He trailed.

The race went by so quickly, pun intended. Lewis finished at P4, we’ll take it as a win considering the performance of the car this year.

Didn’t see much of Lewis after the race since he had media duties. Once he was done, we spoke about the race in general on our way back to his place. “Soo what are our plans for the evening ?” I asked as I laid on the couch. “Are you forgetting the part when I told you earlier that we’re meeting Kylian and Neymar ?” He raised a brow. Realisation hit me in the face. “Oh my god I need to find something good to wear” I squealed as I rushed over to my bag.

“It’s in a nightclub, they’re not going to see you” he laughed. “They will when you play wingman and I’m leaving with one of them. Mainly Kylian, Neymar is off limits because he has a girlfriend” I said as I continued searching through my bag. “How are you so sure about leaving with Kylian” he laughed. “Well obviously that will happen after you put in a good word for me about my love for football” I said in an obvious tone. “Hmm okay” he said with a smirk.

As Lewis got ready, I decided to do the same, I had a shower and sat in my robe as I did my makeup, and hair. Once I was done, I slipped into my dress and heels. “(Y/N/N) you ready ?” He called for me. “I’m just putting on my heels” I said whilst holding onto the bathroom counter top for support. “Wow” I heard him say from behind me. “You look- wow.. gorgeous” he said softly. “Aww really ? Thank you Lew” I pouted as I looked at him through the mirror. “Your rizz is literally showing through your outfit” I said as I turned around to face him. “I guess I should take that as a compliment ?” He asked with furrowed brows. “Of course it’s a compliment, I basically said you look so fine that you could pull anyone you wanted tonight” I admitted. I mentally slapped myself for telling him he looked fine out loud.

“If I heard correctly, almost sounded like you were hitting on me ?” He raised a brow. “In your dreams babe, let’s go” I said as I tapped his chest and walked past him.

When we arrived at the club, Lewis handed the keys over to the valet, that’s when we spotted Daniel or otherwise known as Spinz. We greeted each other as we all walked over to the doors of the club. “I won’t remind you again what the plans are for tonight” I mentioned to Lewis. “Don’t worry, I didn’t forget” he said with a grin. He’s acting sus.

As soon as we entered the club, we were escorted to the VIP area and that’s when I spotted Neymar, and Kylian. Oh my word.. unreal. Both of them spotted Lewis and walked over to us to greet him. I stood behind Lewis with Daniel, eagerly waiting to hear what Lewis has to say.

Lewis shook their hands and made some small talk before moving aside to pull me forward by my waist. It’s hard to hear over the loud music, but i oddly enough heard clearly every word Lewis said. “Boys, this is (Y/N), my girlfriend” he smiled. Sir, I beg your pardon. Girlfriend ? I knew he was acting sus. “Hey ! So nice to meet you both, I’m a big fan” I yelled over the music as I hugged them both.

“Great to meet you too. Lewis is a lucky guy” Kylian smiled. “Aha well, I’m a lucky girl” I joked. All of the build up to annoy him just died down. I really pictured having a full on conversation with both Kylian and Neymar but that also went out the window when I started to get frustrated yelling over the music.. I was actually starting to lose my voice. Besides that, I was itching to leave this place so I can have a talk with Lewis. Quite a relief that Daniel was with us so i had someone else to talk to in the mean time.

After about a whole hour, I started to get a headache and just felt the need to leave. I was seated in the VIP area with Daniel whilst Lewis was catching up with Kylian and Neymar not so far away. I walked over to him and tapped his shoulder, “I wanna leave” I yelled. “What ?” He asked as he leaned in closer. “Can we please go ?” I yelled once again. He nodded his head in reply. He briefly greeted them goodbye as I I did the same.

We walked in silence to the car until the car doors slammed. “Uhm care to enlighten me on what happened back there, boyfriend ?” I emphasised his new title as he then sped off. He stifled a laugh, “Well I got a bit- cough”. “What was that ?” I asked as I crossed my arms over my chest. “Can we just talk about this when we get back home ?” He asked as he looked over to me for a second. I didn’t answer back, just looked out the window. When we got back to his place, I jumped out the car and walked ahead of him to the elevator. “Can you stop giving me the silent treatment ?” He said as he stood across me.

I remained silent until we were in his apartment. I sat on the couch and crossed my legs over, “Was that really necessary ?” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Well I thought it would be funny” he smiled. I took a deep breath, “I- do you want me to be single and lonely for the rest of my life ?” I faked a smile. “Oh my days (Y/N)…can you not take a hint ?” He said annoyed. I stood up from where I was seated, “I assumed you were just trying to annoy me like you always do and tonight you did exactly that, but worse.” I walked past him as he then caught a hold of my wrist. He pulled me back and twirled me to face him.

“(Y/N), if it isn’t obvious enough..I love you.” I was left speechless. “I’ve fallen for you since we first met at Coachella. You caught my eye and I knew then that I always wanted you by my side. You made my day when you shared the news with me that you were finally able to come to more races, I thought it’s now or never. I thought I was pretty obvious about how I felt about you, even Miles knows this” he softly smiled. “That idiot knew all this time and didn’t tell me even after I told him how I felt about you. Anyway, never mind him. Why didn’t you say anything earlier after I told you to be my wingman for tonight ?” I furrowed my brows.

“Because I wanted to wipe that smirk off your face” he said as he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer against his chest. “To me it just sounds like you were jealous” I pursed my lips as I wrapped my arms around his neck. “I wasn’t jealous” he scoffed. “So then why did you call me your girlfriend ?” I raised a brow. “Okay fine, you win that, but… will you be mine ?” He asked nervously. “I thought you’d never ask” I said as I closed the gap between us, placing my lips on his.

#f1 #formula one #formula 1 #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 oneshot #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton #sir lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton fluff #lewis hamilton oneshot #f1 fluff #lh #lh44 #ricciardoaf oneshots

[octuscle]

Hey there! I work as a therapist and a few of us were starting to think of the clinical applications of chronivac. We were wondering if you wanted to work together to develop some presets that our clients could use to de-stress and take a break from their stressful lives. I know we have one stressed out university student who could benefit from something like this.

At Chronivac, we are always interested in collaborating with research institutions. After all, Chronivac is not used just to have fun. It is already being used for the treatment of various physical illnesses and also for resocialization projects. The use in the psychotherapeutic field would be new, but sounds interesting according to the research and development department. If the student they are talking about is available as a guinea pig, perhaps send us a requirements profile for a transformation. And we'll see what we can do….

Research Diary Timothy Walker

Day One: My psychotherapist tells me that my burn-out syndrome has progressed to the point that continuing my business studies is out of the question at this point. In fact, I am having a hard time concentrating. Writing this report is causing me great difficulty; my attention span is only a few minutes. Therefore, an experimental therapy has been decided with the psychology faculty, which is connected with a semester off for me. Under certain circumstances, the semester can be counted as an internship. Everything is fine with me. I am just tired. The work on the research diary was exhausting for me. I need to lie down.

Second day: I slept very well. No wild nightmares as usual. I woke up briefly once or twice at most, but went right back to sleep. Michael, who is in charge of the project as pysiotherapist, thinks that this would be a good starting point to work on my physical fitness. We both went running for an hour. I'm exhausted, I haven't moved that much since I started studying. But I feel good. Made myself a real breakfast for the first time in months according to my new nutrition plan. I'm supposed to spend the rest of the day walking on the beach. Let's see if that clears my head.

Third day: Before Michael came for the training session, I was already in the gym for an hour. I'm really enjoying the physical activity. The beach walk yesterday was great. And Michael was thrilled to see the progress I'm making in terms of fitness. Had the first session with my creativity coach today. Seems a little silly to me. But imagining what I would be doing if I weren't studying business was fun. But I have to admit, my head isn't really getting creative yet. At least writing the diary is already much easier for me.

Day four: I need new challenges. The beach run with Mike is fun, but it's not a sport. That's warming up. We discussed that I would go running alone for an hour tomorrow and that we would meet in the gym of the therapy center. I'm supposed to come without a T-shirt. Mike wants me to learn to love my body. To be honest, I already do. I've already jerked off twice today. And think about sex a lot more than usual. Mike also comes in the process. My creative trainer is also quite cute, but he's too skinny for me. I like men who have a lot of muscle on them.

Fifth day: Fuck, the workout with Mike is awesome! I love the gym from the first minute. Yes, the beach feels my home. But the gym is the place that prepares me for that home. Working out shirtless makes the workout even more intense. i can't get enough of Mike's and my sweat beading on our pecs. But I'm so horny. All the time. During the creative training with Kev it just bubbled out of me today. I would so love to be a lifeguard. Maybe not all the time. But on vacation. And on the weekends. The idea made me even hornier. Poor Kev. He's not my type, but I had to nail him during practice. No idea when I last had sex. but this first time in a long time was incredibly intense. Thank God Kev felt the same way….

Day six: Today is uh free day at da therapy center. Mike n kev are already down at da beach, I wanted to pump up da muscles beforehand. I'm looking forward to da sea n da sand. Both make my head so free. Although I wouldn't feel like my head wuz overly full right now anyway. Pumping, fucking, jogging n swimming. That's really all I'm thinking about right now. Kevin says that I certainly wouldn't have to worry about da practical entrance exams for lifeguards. But I shouldn't underestimate da theory. Shit, studying sucks. But I guess it haz to be.

Day seven: I like it when I have da early shift. Da routine of opening da station is relaxing, da beach is still quiet, da few guests are usually relaxed n in uh gud mood. Wuz one of da best ideas of my life to take uh semester off n work as uh lifeguard. My pal mikey told me to lay off this crappy journal. Somehow I thought it wuz important until now. I can't remember why, either. Anyway. Da main thing is that da surf is gud. Den you can have some fun with da surfers afta work. Hehehehe…

#male tf #muscle tf #chronivac #male transformation #muscle transformation #surfer tf

[irrevocableloves]

violent delights

twilight rewrite! edward cullen x fem!witch!reader

chapter three: was it really luck?

previous chapter ౨ৎ masterlist ౨ৎ chapter four

summary: after graciously saving your life, was it really luck that struck edward cullen's hand between you and that van?

warnings: near death experience, angst

words: 2.6k

I didn't know what to expect from Edward as I readied for our next encounter, seeing that he seemed a bit frustrated with the last question I'd asked him.

I couldn't help but blame myself for his behavior, wondering if perhaps I'd just kept the personal questions to myself, then maybe he wouldn't have left so abruptly. No. It wasn't my fault. How could it? It was only a simple question. But why did I feel the need to console him as if I was in the wrong? Why did I feel such a pull towards Edward Cullen?

I clenched my wheel, focusing more on the road rather than my invading thoughts. The road was a bit slippery from the snowfall from yesterday, so I was being extra careful on the road leading towards school. I had less of a struggle thanks to the snow chains my dad installed, but I'd rather put my thoughts away for now as a precaution.

Before getting out of my car, I looked to my left. Edward. He was standing by his silver Volvo with the company of his siblings. He glanced over at me, almost with a look of frustration and then continued a conversation with his darker haired sibling.

Not spotting any of my friends thus far, I unzipped the small pocket of my backpack and pulled out my wired headphones. Putting the buds into my ear, I let Paramore's "Decode" flood into my ears as I exited my car.

In the middle of the song, an odd sound appeared in my rearview, only for me to take out a bud to hear a high-pitched screech that became painfully loud.

I look up to see a van hurtling towards me. I couldn't move. Nothing seemed to be slowing down like it did in the films and I knew, within mere seconds, I would be crushed immediately.

Before I could close my eyes to brace the impact, Edward was in front of me, holding me, holding the car back with just one hand.

Now everything felt slow. I felt his cold hand burning my waist, my head throbbing from impact from my window, his eyes burning into my own, his gaze no longer filled with frustration, but fear, and perhaps worry? I studied his features once again, not a single flaw. His skin replicated glass, his eyes, almost glowing, and his lips as blushed as my own cheeks.

I looked down to his hand as it pushed the van, a large dent being left in place.

No words could leave my lips, only useless stutters.

"Y/N? Are you alright?" Edward breathed out.

"Uh," I sighed, "I think so?" I didn't feel any other pain other than the one at the back of my head, which was better than being crushed to death.

I tried to stand, to which Edward released, but with my dazed state, I topple over, just for Edward to place a tighter grip around my waist.

"I think you hit your head pretty hard, Y/N."

Before I could respond, everyone was swarming around the car. Yelling out multiple ARE YOU OKAY?, WHAT HAPPENED?, and ARE YOU HURT?'s, and even Tyler peeked out his van, blood on his forehead, apologizing over and over.

I could see Edward's family in the back holding no expression of concern, but rather a look of disapproval, maybe even anger, but perhaps I'd read them wrong.

Amidst the chaos, six EMTs and two teachers were finally able to shift the van away from Edward and I, but how did Edward–? I shook it off for the time being, blaming adrenaline.

I saw two stretchers being brought in. Edward was able to refuse his, but as I tried to do the same, he'd told them I hit my head, traitor. This resulted in the EMT's forcing a neck brace onto me whilst they carried me onto a stretcher and wheeling me into the back of the ambulance. I've never felt more embarrassed, especially since I was fine, mostly.

Even the unloading to the hospital was equally as embarrassing, if not more. There was not even a scratch on me, at least not one that was visible to me.

I was put into an emergency room, one that was lined with beds, separated by pastel-patterned curtains. The nurses had gone through normal procedures of a typical checkup as they checked my heart rate and temperature as they walked off. Once they were out of sight, I decided to quickly remove the unneeded neck brace and stick it under the pillows.

Not even a minute after, another stretcher was being brought to the bed next to mine. Tyler Crowley from Government and also one of Mike and Eric's few friends. He had bandages wrapped around his wounded head, blood seeping from the bandages, causing me to look towards the other side of the room. I wasn't a fan of blood. I was able to watch it in horror movies (if closing my eyes counted), but seeing it in real life had quite honestly made me a bit queasy.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry! I lost control of the car and it wouldn't stop—"

"Tyler, it's okay," I interrupted and I meant it. "Are you alright? Looks like you got it worse than me..."

I tried to make eye contact with him, facing down a bit as I conversed with him. From the corner of my eye, I could see the nurses unwinding the bandages from his head and grabbing a supply of fresh ones.

He ignored me completely, stuttering through his apologies, "I thought I was gonna kill you! I was going too fast and I hit the ice wrong and I–" He winced as one of the nurses started to clean his wounds. 

"Don't worry about it, Tyler. You missed me."

"How'd you get out the way so fast? One second you were there and then you were gone."

I wasn't even sure myself. Thinking back at it. The van had been right in front of me and before I left my car, Edward was across the lot. But, I just replied, trying hard to make it not sound questionable, "Umm... Edward, he–uh– he pulled me out of the way."

"Who?"

"Edward Cullen – he was standing right next to me." That didn't sound too convincing.

"Cullen? Wow... I didn't see him there. Guess it all happened so fast. Is he alright?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "Yeah, I think so. I'm not sure where he is, but they didn't make him use a stretcher." It all sounded insane. I couldn't believe Tyler believed me when I couldn't even believe myself. Had anyone seen what happened? Or was everything moving too fast to the point where time wasn't even comprehendible? I didn't see anything. But I knew he wasn't next to me, let alone walking towards me.

The hour so far spent at the hospital was agonizing as Tyler repeated his apologies. I was grateful that one of the doctors had stolen me for an x-ray, only to prove that I was right. Nothing was wrong with me. But, they insisted that I stayed until the main doctor had a chance to check in with me.

In the halls of the hospital, I heard my father's voice, "Y/N/N?!" He repeated my name until eventually he ended up at my wing. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Dad. It's okay." I tried to console him as my father narrowed down at Tyler, who was once again in a fit of apologies. I felt bad for him, but the apologies were getting worn down, and quite annoying actually. 

"Dad, it's not his fault, it was the ice–" 

He cut me off, "I nearly lost ya."

"Dad..." I didn't know what else to say to him. I understood where he was coming from completely, so even if I wasn't too happy about it, I let him lay it off on Tyler for the sake of his sanity.

"You can kiss your license goodbye," was his last remark.

"Hey, Edward, I'm really sorry–" Tyler began.

I looked to see Edward standing at the doorway, lifting a hand to pause Tyler's apology.

"No blood, no foul," he said as he walked over. "Chief Swan." He held his hand out to my father, giving him a nod. I didn't expect my dad to say anything to him, although I could see the valued respect in his eyes as he shook hands with Edward, and I was sure Edward could see the same.

With a few moments of silence, I cleared my throat, looking at my dad, hoping my eyes would get the hint for him to leave. He didn't. Instead, he was left in awkward silence, tapping his foot and looking anywhere but my direction.

"Dad," I cleared my throat again.

"Oh! Oh ya... for sure. I'll uh... be in the waiting room for ya, when you're ready to go," He walked back through the hall, leaving me and Edward, and of course, Tyler as well. 

"So uh, what's the verdict?" he asked me, slowly pulling the curtain between us and Tyler before sitting himself at the edge of my hospital bed.

"There's nothing wrong with me. No concussions, not a single scratch, but they won't let me go just yet," I complained. "How come you didn't come in strapped to a gurney like the rest of us?"

"My father he's–" 

As if it was on queue, Dr. Cullen sprung into the room.

"I heard the Chief's daughter was here." I looked up to see a quite handsome man, actually extremely handsome. Dr. Carlisle Cullen, Edward's father. He was pale, just like the rest of them, but blonde, and had the kindest eyes of them all.

After a couple minutes of observations, Dr. Cullen concluded, "You have a nice knot growing back there, but your x-rays show no indication of concussion. Does it hurt? Edward said you hit it pretty hard."

I glared at Edward and he only smirked, but god was that a gorgeous smirk.

"I'm good." 

"Well, your father made his way to the waiting room, so you can go home with him now if you'd like. But, if you feel dizzy or have trouble with your eyesight at all, be sure to come back alright?"

I didn't bother to ask about school, I knew it would be a definite 'no' to go back. But I was kind of glad. I knew I'd have to face the glory of a survivor, it was the one interesting thing that had happened in Forks in years, but for right now, I was glad to be heading home and to be away from the crowds of sincerities.

Getting off the bed, I seemed to have gotten up too quickly, which resulted in a dizzy spell, not enough to become unbalanced, but enough for the doctor to notice.

"I'm fine." I chuckled awkwardly.

"Make sure to take some Tylenol for the pain," he suggested.

"It doesn't really hurt that bad." And I meant that. It's not that I was the clumsiest, but even getting my head hit with a basketball in P.E. had hurt a lot more than this.

"It sounds like you were extremely lucky," Dr. Cullen smiled.

"I mean... it would've been a lot worse if Edward hadn't pushed me out of the way."

He was silent. He knows something. I looked at Edward and his head was down, avoiding any sort of eye contact.

"Oh, well, yes of course," he chuckled, then shifting his focus towards Tyler and putting his full focus on him. 

I decided not to press on, I'd got all the confirmation I needed to seem a little less crazy. But Edward on the other hand, I needed a bit more.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" I said softly, not wanting to scare him away, but he took a step back, jaw clenched.

"Your father is waiting for you." His demeanor was a lot like it was from the day I met him. Cold and distant. The only difference is that he was actually speaking to me. It didn't scare me, it only made me more frustrated. 

I tried to meet his eye line, but failed. "I'd like to speak to you alone, if you don't mind." I couldn't help the coldness in my tone. He was the one that started this.

No response. Instead he made his way out the door and into the hall, but I followed him.

"I just wanted to thank you, you know, for saving my life." I said as I caught up with him.

He turned to face me, his cold expression not yet faltering. "Is that it?" I was taken aback by his words, but even then, I didn't wanna let it go.

Before he could walk away, I grabbed his wrist... cold again.

"Before I got out of my car, you were across the lot..." I said, not exactly sure where the question was leading to.

"Y/N, I was standing right next to you." No. I could tell he was lying, I'd never heard him sound quite like this, it was as if he was taunting me, trying to manipulate me, make me seem like I was insane. 

 "No. You weren't." I was angry and I wasn't trying to let my levels of anger flare out to a point of no return, but he was making it harder.

"What do you want from me?"

"The truth, at least. I feel like I'm going crazy. I didn't see you, Tyler didn't see you. That van would've crushed us both and it didn't... Your hands, they left dents in my car and the van... you pushed it away with your bare hands at full sped and you're not even hurt." I could hear how crazy I sounded. I pushed back tears that were coming from anger, delusion, hurt, whatever it was. 

He looked at me in a way that I'd never seen before. Was it regret? Guilt? Sympathy?

"Y/N, please." I've never seen this side of him either and I wasn't expecting it.

"I'm not gonna tell anybody. I just wanna know why I'm lying for you at least."

"Can't you just thank me and try to get over it?" He wasn't harsh with this remark, but more humorous, as if he was trying hard to not let the truth slip.

"I did," I said plainly.

"You're not going to let it go, are you?"

"Nope." He didn't bother to respond back to me. Instead, he turned to walk away. He was not even inches away from the exit before I spoke up.

"Why'd you even bother?" I was curious. If he risked everything, whatever everything was, why didn't he save himself the trouble and let it crush me? I wish I could've voiced that, but for now, I couldn't bear to hear the answer to that.

"I don't know." Then he walked off.

I didn't know what was worse. Not knowing the truth of how he saved me or not knowing why he saved me. But, I was determined to find out both.

I brought myself to the waiting room where my dad was, finding out that my friends had been waiting there as well. Mike had fallen asleep, thankfully and the rest had run up to me in fits of worry before I explained to them my well condition. 

The car home was peaceful until my phone started going off with a call and multiple dings of text messages. I knew it was my mom and I mentally prepared for the screams of worry and terror once I holed up in my bedroom. And I still wasn't prepared. I told her over and over that I was fine, purposefully not mentioning how it was Edward Cullen that had saved my life only to save myself the questioning not only from my mother, but from myself. After the phone call, I found myself slowly drifting off.

My dreams that night were yet again plagued by Edward Cullen.

next chapter

a/n: hehe i made edward less of a gaslighter because honestly my anger would not be able to take that… i mixed a lot of scenes from both the book and the movie as always and added a little twist !!

#violent delights #edward cullen x reader #edward cullen x y/n #edward cullen x you #edward cullen fanfiction #edward cullen #twilight fanfiction #twilight #twilight rewrite #robert pattinson #robert pattinson x reader #violent delights fanfiction #violent delights fanfic

[togetherhearted]

Saw requests were open and decided to drop one.

May I request Vil, Ace, and Jamil with a reader who is a doctor but also skilled in toxicology?

Hi to you! And yes,of course!

This is my first TW request so I'm a bit nervous. I hope it will be fine as I am pretty sure I'll make some mistakes here and there 😅

ACE,VIL AND JAMIL WITH A TOXICOLOGIST/DOCTOR!READER

Carefully Ace was laid on the infirmary bed. He was gripping his torso and sweating profusely. His expression a pained one. -What happened?- You watched him bit his lips and averting his eyes;like he knew he did something bad and was waiting for you to scold him. -I...I think I ate the wrong mushrooms...- He winched a bit afraid of your reaction. You just rolled your eyes;at least you now knew what was wrong. -Don't worry. You'll be fine. I got this- Ace watched you rummaging a drawer; looking for a remedy. He sighed a bit relieved. He was sure you weren't happy with him but at least his stomachache was going to be cured soon.

You watched the parasites fall from the plant, to the table, in a fraction of a minute. The pesticide you were working with Vil was finally showing results. Now you just had to study the effects on the human body. Being able to use this could open the path to a new ingredient to use in dishes and everyday life. Vil wrote down the experiment passages with a proud smile. -Seems like we're on the right path- You got rid of the dead parasite on the clean surface. -Yeah...we make a good team!- There was a small smile on your face -A little push forward and then we can open the world to new possibilities!- You held the pot in your arms. You couldn't wait to show professor Crewel your results.

-I wouldn't touch that specific bottle- Jamil retract his hand and eyed you with a confused expression -You'll be itching for days-  You showed the palm of your right hand; still red from yesterday. The experiment didn't end well. -Ah...thank you- Jamil kept his eyes on your hand. -Does it..- -Itch?Burn?Yeah. A bit, but I prepared myself a balm to ease the symptoms- You winked at him as you got out the cream to apply it on.

The disgusting looking remedy fastly was absorbed in your skin. You then moved the bottle to a secluded place protecting yourself with gloves.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #tw #tw x reader #jamil viper #jamil x reader #vil schoenheit #vil x reader #ace trapolla x reader #ace trappola #x reader

[kerostarz]

love you twice. kim gyuvin

[ k.gv x f!reader]

chapter 2.

ugh. i skipped class again.

these past couple days i fell sick so i haven’t left my dorm once. my roommate left for a couple of days to visit her family, but at least before leaving she had left some medicine for me to take which was very thoughtful of her.

it’s currently 7pm and all i’ve done so far today is rot in my bed. i’ve been craving some ramen since yesterday so i think i’ll go to the convenience store (though i’m reaaally lazy).

i didn’t even think twice before walking out of my dorm. i didn’t bother changing and was still wearing my pjs, a pair of crocs and the first jacket i came across in my closet. i had a mask on so at least no one from campus could recognise me (especially with how much of a mess i looked).

🍜🧣—

buldak? no, it’s way too spicey.. maybe shin ramen? yeah okay.. i’ll take a pocari sweat as well, i need all the energy i can get.

i went to heat up my food in the microwave at the convenience store. “tss- fuck it burns,” i exclaimed whilst taking the ramen out of the microwave. “you should be more careful” i heard a voice approaching me, i turned around and the guy from the cafe (and my uni) was here, “yeah i figured, thank you” i bowed to excuse myself and rushed to sit at the window seat of the store. i really hope he didn’t recognise me.

not long after he followed and sat next to me. i tried to ignore him and covered my head with the hood of my hoodie, quickly eating my ramen. “are you from my uni?” he sparked a conversation, which i couldn’t just ignore. “yeah” i responded as i slurped the noodles. “oh cool, i asked since the convenience store is right next to it and well… you’re in pjs” he chuckled whilst he opened his pre-made meal. “yeah i haven’t really been attending classes these days, i’ve been sick,” he nodded and then began rummaging through his backpack. “here!” he handed me a vitamin drink, “vitamin drinks are good for short-term sickness, it will reduce headaches. so i hope it helps!” i turned to face him, he was smiling.

“oh! you’re the girl from the cafe!” he says with a surprised tone. oh my god. i forgot i wasn’t wearing my mask. i covered my face quickly embarrassed at the state in which i was in. he tilted his head in confusion, “i’m not trying to spread my illness.. sorry. but yes that’s me” i moved my hand away from my face slowly. he smiled softly like the time i gave him my cookie in the cafe, “it’s okay i’ve taken my supplements i should be healthier than healthy! oh and, i didn’t catch your name yet, i’m kim gyuvin from the education department!”

“you want to become a school teacher?” i couldn’t help but wonder, “well yeah! i’m studying to become a kindergarten teacher, soo.. something like that” he said and scratched the back of his neck, “i initially was studying business administration but soon realised i hated it,” my eyes widened at the difference of each degree, “i have a friend who i consider my younger brother and i’ve practically known my whole life, his name is han yujin! not that you care haha, but he made me realise how much i loved taking care of kids like babysitting and stuff…”

—🚏—

that night, me and gyuvin spoke for a good 3 hours. he ended up bringing me back to my dorm and gave me a bag of supplements to cure this sickness of mine (how kind of him~). we walked slowly as to not get caught by the night guard since we came back past curfew time.

at last, we finally acquainted ourselves.

#kim gyuvin #kim gyuvin au #zerobaseone #zb1 #zb1 au #zerobaseone x reader #zb1 gyuvin #kpop #kpop au #zb1 x reader #fluff #sfw #cute

[no6secretsanta]

A Soulmates Christmas

From: @fairysdarkestnight

To: @thane-emblem

“What?!”

The coffee shop around them buzzed with pre-Christmas energy. There was no reason to think that anyone was listening in - not even the barista was paying attention to anything besides the book his nose was in - but there was a part of Shion that just felt like everyone was now focused on this decidedly not safe for public conversation.

Safu took a sip of her herbal tea as she simply looked at Shion, even though the other couldn’t seem to meet her eyes. His own coffee sat untouched in front of him, though he kept his gloved hands wrapped around the mug. “I know your hearing is functional so I doubt that I need to repeat myself. And although your background is in ecology, I doubt you lack the most basic understanding of anatomy. So therefore I must conclude that you did in fact hear me, and are asking me to elaborate rather than repeat myself.” 

Somehow he still couldn’t quite meet her eyes even as he could hear the lightest undercurrent of humor in her words. But the roaring in his ears blocked out her actual words and she slowly trailed off into an uncomfortable silence. 

They finished their drinks without saying much, occasionally making light conversation about Safu’s upcoming study abroad program. Their time didn’t feel like it usually did, and Shion didn’t want things to feel this awkward right before she left, but he just couldn’t find it in himself to say the words she so desperately wanted to hear.

And so when they said goodbye, he gave her a tight hug and promised he would see her off at the station in a couple days. I love you Safu. Just not in the way you need me to.

Eventually they parted ways and Shion went home to help at the bakery. His mom mentioned that they’d received a large rush order for the theater by someone named Nezumi and that they’d need to get started on it before it was picked up the following morning.

And so the two of them stayed up well into the night, until they were both so exhausted that they fell asleep after putting in one of the final batches of cookies and didn’t notice when they started to burn.

Shion didn’t know what he'd done wrong to deserve the actual hell that he was experiencing. When he was woken up by Safu’s text asking to meet up at their usual cafe, he’d been nervous, but happy that maybe they’d be able to move past the awkwardness from the day before. And yet, for some reason completely beyond his understanding, Safu refused to let up on her request.

Instead of responding or letting the conversation die, Shion merely sighed and pushed back his chair. It seemed like Safu was going to continue to push, and there wasn’t anything he could do about it without hurting her. So if they were going to have that conversation, he was at least going to do it with something a little stronger than a cappuccino. 

It also didn’t help that he couldn’t remember actually making it back to his bed last night, or that he’d developed a cough. Hopefully his mom had been able to finish up the catering order and that it was picked up with no issues that morning. 

“Please tell me you sell Irish Coffee. Or espresso martinis. I’d even take a spiked hot chocolate at this point.”

The barista raised an eyebrow and let out a low chuckle that sent a shiver down his spine. “What, is that friend of yours still after you? I thought your brilliant response yesterday of ‘Oh no, not my sperm. Anything but that!’ would’ve been enough to send any woman running. And yet here you are again.”

Shion groaned and ran a tired hand through his brown hair at the other man’s teasing. “I was hoping that we’d be able to just… ignore it? I don’t know I’m not good at this kind of thing. Once she knows what she wants, there’s no one who can stand against her. She won’t let them.”

The other man simply shook his head, a derisive smirk on his lips. “She sounds like a real winner. A match made in heaven Your Majesty. With your airheadedness and her stubbornness, you’ll take the world by storm.” The barista, whose name tag only had a picture of a rat on it, shook his head and moved to start preparing a drink. “It’s not on the menu, and it’s not like we have alcohol just lying around. But I sometimes need a little extra ‘holiday cheer.’” And with that he pulled out a flask from his apron and poured some dark liquid (whiskey, maybe?) into the mug. And kept pouring.

Shion apparently looked as frazzled as he felt.

A smirk tugged at the barista’s lips as he handed the steaming mug of salvation to Shion. “Now go and confess how uninterested you are in having sex with her.”

15 minutes later and Shion was swearing that there was no way that the whiskey should’ve been strong enough to make him hallucinate. But there really wasn’t any other explanation for the fact that Safu was repeating the same conversation as the day before. Not a continuation like he’d thought when they met at the coffee shop. No, a full repetition of a topic he really didn’t want to discuss.

“I know we didn’t really talk about this yesterday, but I’m sorry. I haven’t seen you as more than a friend and I’m not ready to have sex with you.”

Safu’s eyes widened and hurt flashed across her face. But confusion settled and she took a sip of her tea - herbal, same as always - before trying to meet his eyes. “Shion. We… we didn’t talk about this yesterday. We didn’t even see each other yesterday. We were going to meet for dinner but you worked late since Yamase called in.”

The hot chocolate burned as it slid down his throat but he couldn’t tell if it was from the temperature or the whiskey. “Safu, that was Friday. We met here for coffee yesterday and we were having this exact conversation.”

A calculating look entered her eyes as she leaned forward, almost as if she was examining him. Actually scratch that, that is exactly what she was doing. “Shion, what day do you think it is?”

“What day do I think it is? I know it’s Sunday.”

Safu shook her head slowly. “No Shion, it’s Saturday. Check your phone if you don’t believe me. Have you been having other symptoms like this? Memory falsification is rare but not impossible. But it's still odd that you would have known what I wanted to talk about.”

He lifted the hot chocolate (should he even really call it that? It was more alcohol than chocolate) to his lips as he took out his phone, only slightly surprised that it read Saturday December 24th. “I don’t know Safu. But I know - or at least I think I know - that we were here together yesterday talking about this exact same thing. And then I went home and helped my mom with the bakery. Some of her regulars came in, and a catering order was called in for the theater. Apparently the guy who put in the order had a weird name - Nezumi. I can’t make something like that up. And so we stayed up late to prepare the order - he must have been really desperate for my mom to agree on such short notice.” 

There was a choked coughing sound from the coffee bar but Shion didn’t turn to look as he was too focused on trying to figure out what was going on. Maybe he just had a really vivid dream? An extreme case of deja vu? 

Shion looked down at his gloved hands and sighed. Maybe it was nothing, but there was a part of him that felt like it was something more. Something that almost felt like a pull. But to where he couldn’t figure out.

The two friends sat there for a while, and Safu kept talking, mostly about her studies and how she was hoping that she’d find something that could help Shion, but he was mostly tuning her out at that point, choosing to stare out the window and the flurries of snow. 

As they said their goodbyes and Shion watched Safu get into the taxi meant to take her home, he heard a crack from above. And then felt a searing pain that wrapped itself around his body before losing consciousness.

When Shion woke up the next morning, he was expecting to be in a hospital room. Or at the very least in severe pain. But no, he was back at home, feeling completely fine. Well-rested even. But when he picked up his phone, he barely had time to see that he’d gotten a text from Safu to meet at the cafe. When he grabbed it, his phone sparked and its screen went black, with a small wisp of smoke winding its way through the air. 

But it wasn’t until he passed a mirror that he realized the true extent of what happened. Instead of the perfectly average brown hair and eyes he was born with, he now sported snow white hair and eyes red as blood. Not to mention the pink scar across his cheek that wound its way under his clothes. He was too afraid to see exactly how far that scar went though.

He took a few minutes to hunt for a beanie he knew he had somewhere, and he raided his mother’s makeup. It took a while for him to figure out exactly the best method to hide what looked like a scar, but it was passable enough by the time he left. But as he didn’t exactly have any colored contacts just lying around, he’d had to keep his head down as he called out to his mom that he was leaving.

He didn’t want to stand Safu up, even if he didn’t exactly feel like going to the cafe again. But that barista had also remembered the first day. So if he was lucky, maybe that man would have some answers.

If Nezumi had to go through this god-forsaken Saturday again was going to hurt someone. Probably that airheaded customer if he had anything to say about it. Sundays were his day off and that brat was (probably) the only one standing between him and a day of sleeping in.

The only bright side to having to repeat the day again was that write-up he’d gotten for not coming into work on what he thought was a Sunday just magically disappeared. Almost like it never happened. But he’d (almost) take a write up over having to work at that stupid shop for the 8th time in a row. Especially when he wasn’t even technically getting paid for it.

But when he checked his phone and saw that it was in fact Saturday December 24th for the third time, Nezumi begrudgingly pulled on a pair of black jeans and a matching long sleeve shirt. It was one of the only shops he could still work at - he’d been fired for fighting with customers at all the others, and he was still getting his foot in the door at the theater here. So he really needed this job and couldn’t afford another write up. 

Not that he thought he deserved to be fired over customers’ crossing the boundaries of what’s considered “acceptable” behavior, but he was a replaceable minimum wage employee and a brush of the hand to see if he was their soulmate really shouldn't evoke such a strong reaction from him. And it really didn’t - it was the pushy ones who would grab at him because there was clearly a mistake and there’s no way this random albeit attractive barista isn’t their soulmate.

Maybe he shouldn’t be working a customer facing job. But his face makes up for his patchwork experience so he’d deal with it until he could pay rent from the theater’s paycheck.

By the time he made it to No.6 (seriously, what kind of name was that? Where were the other five locations?) Nezumi was hungry and irritated and kind of hungover despite the fact that he hadn’t had anything to drink since the launch party on Friday. Which was really unfair and just something else to blame that particular customer for.

Part of him was hoping that he was wrong, that the man who’d come in with a friend who propositioned him in public wasn’t his soulmate. But that man clearly remembered the previous day, even if he didn’t bear the marks Nezumi had come to associate with those Fate was especially cruel to. And there had been that incident the prior night…

He’d only met a handful of people whose time had noticeably stopped when meeting their soulmate, and only a handful of those bore the white hair and scars. And that man hadn’t had either of those when he saw him. So maybe it was a coincidence. 

But regardless of whether that man was his soulmate or not, he still had to go into work.

Someone was gonna die. Maybe even him. He really didn’t want to go into work.  

“What do you know about soulmates?”

Shion was surprised that the words coming out of the barista’s mouth - whose name he still didn’t know, because a rat drawing didn’t actually constitute a name - weren’t something like ‘What can I get you’ or ‘If you talk to me while I’m reading I’ll stab you.’ And given how angry he looked when asking the question… well Shion felt like he might get stabbed.

“Not much. Only that there’s no scientific basis for it, as we only have anecdotal evidence that supports the theory that time seems to stop when you touch them the first time. And since there’s no way of knowing when you touch someone the first time that they’ll be your soulmate, it’s nearly impossible to set up a controlled experiment.” 

The barista nodded, but the frown deepened and his brow furrowed. “I have people come in every day demanding to touch me to see if their time stops for a moment. And I have regulars who swear they felt it when they touched their partner’s skin the first time. And then people like you who don’t believe in soulmates at all.”

Shion cocked his head, a thoughtful look on his face. “I don’t actually not believe in soulmates. And even if I did, after the last couple of days I’ve been having, I think I’d be more inclined to believe in them. I think I’ll believe in a lot more after today.”

“Oh?”

“I… think I’ve been repeating this day. And to be honest, I think you have too. And if I’m wrong, I hope I get to repeat it again so you don’t remember this conversation.”

The barista’s lips drew up and he turned to start on a hot chocolate. Unspiked this time. “No, you’re right. I’ve seen that friend proposition you twice now. I was wondering if there would be a third time and part of me was hoping there would be. It’s the highlight of my day.”

Shion chuckled and handed over his card to pay for the drink. “I’m so glad that my misery brings you joy. I would hate for you to be bored while working. But I don’t think Safu will be here today. I fried my phone when I picked it up this morning, so I never confirmed that we could meet. I came here just in case, but mostly I wanted to talk to you.” He took a sip of his drink and sighed. There’s just something about hot chocolate during Christmastime that just soothes the soul. “So. soulmates. Are they connected to this?”

The barista hesitated for a moment but then nodded his head once. “I think it could be. But first answer one of my questions - what are you hiding under that beanie?”

Shion’s face flushed as he fidgeted with the edge of the hat. “Nothing? I was cold?”

He clearly didn’t buy it.

“Alright fine. So there may have been an…accident last night? I don’t remember for sure but I think I got electrocuted. And when I woke up I…didn’t look the same.”

The barista nodded. “There’s a group of people living on the outskirts of town. They’re an odd group, but one of the men there had gone through something similar. He’d died shortly after meeting his soulmate but hadn’t yet touched her. And he kept repeating the day until he did. Death has a funny way of messing with the soulmate bond. And if I’m right, I’d bet those changes have to do with those red eyes, and your hair is most assuredly white under that beanie of yours. And you have to have some kind of scar somewhere I’m sure”

If Shion had any surprise left in him, the fact that this man could so accurately guess the changes that he’d freaked out about that morning would’ve taken the last of it. He was talking as if it was the most normal thing. And so Shion didn’t say anything, but nodded his head all the same.

The barista came around the counter to stand in front of Shion, who put his hot chocolate on the counter. “If I’m right, then our time will correct itself and we’ll wake up on Christmas Day like nothing ever happened. But I could be wrong, and then you’d have to see who else you met today has memories of you.” He held out his hand with the palm facing up. This man whose name he didn’t even know was putting the choice in his hands. Both figuratively and literally. And that terrified him. But it was also a little exciting. 

Shion started pulling off his gloves. After all, that was part of the reason they were in that mess. If Shion hadn’t worn gloves, then even the slightest brush of their hands would’ve snapped the soulmate bond into space. But no. He just had to be cold enough to take off his gloves.

As their hands met, Shion’s eyes slid closed without his approval. And together they experienced what felt like everything all at once. Happiness, sadness, anxiety, calmness. A fraction of a moment later and the feelings passed. 

The barista’s lips pulled into a smile. He dropped Shion’s hand to reach out, pulling Shion into a heated kiss. Once they broke apart when the sound of clapping echoed through the small cafe. They’d apparently forgotten that they had an audience. “I don’t think I ever caught your name.”

“Shion.”

“Nezumi.”

“Oh my god you’re the reason I stayed up far too late that first time!”

“I was sure that my soulmate wouldn’t exist, that they’d be on the total opposite ends of the world and we’d never have the chance to meet them. Which, by the way, you and I will need to talk about the details - the world might have set us up, but I want to make sure we keep a level head. I’d like to try to make this work.”

Nezumi dropped Shion’s hands and shoved them into his pockets. “Yeah, talking would be good. But first we need to figure out how to stop you from dying. As powerful as this phenomenon is, I don’t really feel the need to watch your head be completely separated from its body again.”

“AGAIN?!”

#submission #no. 6 #no. 6 secret santa #nezushi #nezumi #shion #fairysdarkestnight #thane-emblem

[bots-and-cons]

A new year has started...

I'm going to try to post once more this week, but I have to start my school work too so I don't know if it's gonna be today or tomorrow. Next week I'll try to be more active since I've only got school on Friday for like 4 hours, and I should have time.

School started on Thursday (11th of January) and I basically went to school while being sick, because I couldn't miss it. Same thing on Friday, but I felt even worse. I didn't have a fever or anything, I just felt freaking miserable, and now I can barely talk because my voice is almost gone. So fun...

I had a 2h presentation with one of my classmates, that we had to do for the rest of our growth-group, since it was our turn. I was really nervous for it, but it went really well and I'm glad it's over. (A growth-group is this thing for professional growth, and we also have to make a learning diary during the two years we have the growth-group meetings.)

On Friday I started a "neurodivergent problems and special-ed" course. That's very roughly translated, but you get the idea. I really liked the first classes already and it's very enlightening.

VENTING BELOW, DON'T READ IF YOU DON'T WANT TO

On top of being sick, I have been feeling a bit messed up mentally. I've noticed myself thinking I want something bad to happen to me just so I could get out of uni for a while. I know what comes next too, I'm going to continue to get more and more tired, until I actually fall quickly back into deep depression, and/or have another bad psychotic episode. I've already been having very intense paranoia, and I basically stared at shadow people on the walls of the classroom during half of my swedish class yesterday, so that was fun. I haven't really lost my grip on reality for a while, like I know the things I'm seeing are not really real, but they are there 100% and I am seeing them. I don't really know how to explain it properly. It's like I know it's not real, but at the same time they are there, and I can see them and feel them.

Intrusive thoughts have not been nice either, the most frequent one I have is that I should swallow razor blades. I should probably get rid of them, but I always somehow talk myself out of it and I just can't.

I'm supposed to do practical training for three weeks this winter/spring season too, and then preferably another six-week set too. I'm terrified of that whole thing and I don't fucking want to, but I have to if I want to go forward with my studies. The three weeks thing is the orientation training and the six-week one is the first of the professional ones.

I've been toying with the idea of taking some sick leave from uni, but I also don't want to fall behind, so I'm not allowing myself to do that. I know I'm gonna end up burning out, but I feel like I would disappoint a lot of people if I took a break, so my brain won't allow me to do that either. I fucking hate being like this. I feel like a lazy piece of shit, even though my rational mind tells me I'm doing things, and going forward in life, it just doesn't FEEL like it.

#ony speaks #psychosis tw #intrusive thoughts

[redheadgleekfic]

Ficlet: Dear Elder Anderson

by @redheadgleek for @wowbright

Words: ~1400

Rating: General

Summary: Coming home isn't always easy.

A/N: written for and inspired by my dear friend @wowbright and their Mormon!Klaine universe. Several months ago, we were talking about what happened after Kurt's return from his mission and it inspired this idea. As Wow hasn't read this, think of it as an AU of an AU.

Other notes: this includes blatant descriptions of the LDS temple with direct wording from the endowment and sealing ceremonies. Along with a multitude of other sins not condoned by the church. If this offends, I encourage you to find something else to read.

*

5 August 2014

Dear Elder Anderson,

I know, it’s a little weird calling you this after so many weeks of using your first name. But now, after coming home where I can’t call you Elder Anderson to our investigators on a daily basis or hear Elder Flannigan slaughter the pronunciation, I miss it. 

I miss you.

I miss you every day. I think I miss you most in the mornings, when I think about those mornings sitting across from you as you ate your pretzel and scrambled eggs and we did companion scripture study together. But I also miss you at night when I could hear you breathe in the dark and listen to the little snort you’d make when you were just drifting off. 

It’s weird being home, weird being away from you after so many months with you constantly at my side. You’ve been my compass for so long, that now I feel adrift. I swore I wouldn’t be one of those missionaries who couldn’t have a normal conversation for months. But every time I start to share a story about my time in Germany, it always seems to feature you, and talking about you both thrills and hurts me, so I stop and I sound so awkward. 

Dad suspects something. How much I don’t know, but he asks me a lot of questions about you. He can sense something has changed. That I’m different than I was before. 

He and Carole sat down with me two nights ago. They want to be sealed in the temple next month. And they want me to do Finn’s temple work. 

I am so conflicted and I think my silence surprised them. Doing my brother’s temple work so that we could be together as a family for eternity was my primary goal for so many years. This is what I wanted. 

I feel no guilt or shame over my feelings for you or anything we did. What we have is precious and God-given. I know this with as much of a burning bosom surety as I got when I’ve prayed about the church. So I felt no guilt when I sidestepped the questions at my exit interview with the bishop and I told him I obeyed the law of chastity and was worthy to enter the temple with no hesitation. He would have disagreed with me, would have excommunicated me if I had confessed, but he is wrong. It was harder to answer the questions about sustaining the president as a seer and revelator, when I’m not sure that he really is, but I got my recommend and I’ve been determined to use it. 

And yet, when Dad brought up us spending the day at the temple, I was at a loss. Do I want to do Finn’s work any more? Will he really be lost to me for eternity if I don’t? If the church is wrong about being gay, is it wrong about the afterlife too? 

I wish you were here so I could talk to you about this. Your straightforward explanations always calmed my worries and got me out of my head. You never were afraid of any of the questions I asked. I know if I brought them up with Dad, he’d worry about it. 

On the plus side, I was able to shove all of my mission suits to the back of my closet. I went on a shopping spree and treated myself to a new waistcoat and shirts with color and jeans - jeans, Blaine, I’ve missed them so much. They look great with the bowtie you gave me - I’ll send you the pics. 

Love, Kurt

*

7 September 2014

Mein Liebling Elder Anderson,

Yesterday, Carole took out her endowment and she and Dad were sealed together for time and all eternity. And with me acting as proxy, Finn was sealed to them too. They were so happy. Carole looked radiant in her white dress and Dad kept hugging us both. 

It was a draining day, spiritually nourishing and numbing at the same time. 

Dad baptized me, confirmed me and gave me the priesthood for Finn. I wept hearing his name over and over. “Kurt E Hummel, I baptize you for and on behalf of Finn Christopher Hudson, who is dead.”

Kurt E Hummel, I confirm you a member of the Church of Jesus Christ for and on behalf of Finn Christopher Hudson, who is dead."

Who is dead. I was reminded over and over that he was dead.

I’ve always loved the symbolism of the temple. Perhaps because Dad was a convert and Mom did things her own way, but I’ve never minded the anointing or the endowment or found it weird. There’s something meaningful in the rituals, the way that we would all perform the same signs at the same time that felt powerful. I felt closer to God the few times I went to the temple before my mission and that’s why I’ve been so determined to keep my recommend. 

Elder St. James told me once that he almost walked out when he took out his endowments, certain that he was part of a cult. I don’t think I ever asked you of your experiences with the temple. Carole didn't seem too shocked, but I'm pretty sure that Dad filled her in on what to expect.

The endowment bothered me more yesterday. Finn was washed clean from his sins by someone who everybody else in the church would see as sinning. I couldn’t help that wave of worry that by lying to the lord’s anointed to get the recommend and doing Finn’s work, I would be invalidating it all and he would be in the terrestrial kingdom forever. I tried to ignore it as I pledged to refrain from loud laughter for my brother whose loud, free laugh could be heard across the school and made everybody around him happy. I took vows to obey the law of chastity with promises for his posterity when he never got to get married or have kids or any of that. 

There were beautiful moments too and those were almost harder. When the officiant reminded us about the meaning of the marks, I remembered stroking the mark of the square on your breast as I listened to your heartbeat. I love seeing you in your garments, seeing you as a son of God. 

And everything felt peaceful and familiar and right when I stood in the prayer circle next to my dad and stepmom. Carole was crying, tears that seeped out from under her veil and my dad was glowing in pride for what I was doing. His wish of having all of his family together. 

Dad took Carole through the veil. Does my mom mind sharing my dad for eternity? So many questions that I have no answer for. He also served as the officiant when I got to the veil too. I didn’t know that this was going to happen and I started crying when I heard his voice through the veil. Having my dad’s hand on my shoulder, holding my hand and giving the tokens, and hearing him say “Let him enter” - Blaine, this is all I’ve ever wanted. We sat in the celestial room afterwards, talking about Finn and cried together. For once, one of the temple workers didn’t try to shush us for talking too loudly. 

When it was time for the sealing, we all walked to the room together. It was just the three of us and the sealant. Dad and Carole were sealed first, and then I knelt next to them as Finn, who is dead. I looked into the mirror, and watched our reflections echoing, trying to picture my mom beside us and Finn and you. Because you belong there too in our circle of love. I wish I could kneel across from you and take your right hand and pledge before God, angels and witnesses to uphold the holy order of matrimony.

And I can’t. I won’t ever be able to do that. 

We took pictures outside on the temple grounds. I’ve always loved the simplicity of the Columbus temple. It was built when I was a toddler, and I have pictures of my parents and me at the open house, my dad carrying me because it had been a long day. 

Again, I imagined you holding my hand as we exited out of the front door to the cheers of all of our loved ones. 

I thought I could still make the church work after coming home. I’d be like John Gustav-Wrathall, faithfully attending church every week with you by my side, even if they disfellowshipped or excommunicated me. I don’t know if I can do that, because I ache so much for what I can’t have. 

But I know this. You are worth more than the eternity that the church offers. 

Love, Your Kurt

#mormon!klaine #redheadgleek writes #mormon!klaine verse #i hope you like it Wow! #klaine fanfiction #klaine #barole

[upthewitchypunx]

Vended at a Celtic Fantasy Faire (heavy on the fantasy) yesterday in 95F (35C) weatehr. The most amusing thing I saw was a dad carrying out a screaming toddler saying "I know buddy, we'll have to wait to burn down the village until next year" That's some good parenting.

It takes a lot of energy to sort out what kind of magic book someone wants when they don't know themselves, but give me an actual topic and I'll plop 4 books in front of you. Sold a "How to Study Magic Book" to a 14 year old boy, that sounds like a fun journey. His dad seemed like anther good father.

Had a hilarious set of twins stop by. On was trying to decide if they should buy a pendulum board. So they put their keys on a piece of string I gave them and asked the board, the board said yes.

I'm exhausted today and finishing up a rush button order that would not have been a rush order if there still wasn't still a supply chain issue with the parts factory in Wisconsin.

New temporary housemate gets here Tuesday. I got the room painted and new curtains up. S, or friend from Utah, shows up next week to move into the big room and i decided I need to paint that room now too. ugh. I didn't realize how many denizens of that room just put pushpins in the 120 year old window frames to hang things up instead of actually buying a curtain rod. Now I have to put filler in about 100 holes in the walls and window frames before painting and buy curtain rods so other folks don't think that's a good idea.

So, just me making more work for myself and trying to restock for events the next 2 weeks. Some of the books I'm holding back to have at Pagan Pride Day at Oaks Park on September 10th.

Of course 2 weeks out and the forecast predicting rain for PPD, it wouldn't PPD without some rain.

[taminoarticles]

— Tamino for Behind The Blinds, Issue 13 / Fall/Winter 2022 (x)

Tamino: The In-Between State

Antwerp, July 2022

Interview by MARTIN ONUFROWICZ Photography by ZEB DAEMEN Fashion by JONATHAN HUGUET

For Tamino, the title of his new album, Sahar, reflects his mindset while working on the record. “The literal meaning of the word is “just before dawn” and I think that perfectly captures the feeling of being in this in-between realm that I felt at the time,” explains the Belgian-Egyptian singer. Having catapulted him to fame in Belgium just after turning 20, Tamino’s debut album Amir also earned him fans from all over the globe, leading to non-stop touring for years. With instant popularity — and responsibility — at a young age, Tamino oscillates between adolescence and adulthood; this very in-between state being at the core of his latest record.

With Sahar, the musician continues to express the melancholy and vulnerability that became a signature of his artistic language. The key tool in creating the record was the Arabic lute known as the oud — an instrument that takes center stage in a ballad titled A Drop of Blood. “With this song, I wanted to accompany myself with the oud as the main instrument, just like my grandfather and father did in the past,” says Tamino. “It was very important for me to have at least one song like this on the album to honor the traditions of Egyptian and Arabic music.”

MARTIN ONUFROWICZ: Why did you decide to name your new album Sahar? What is the meaning that this title holds to you? TAMINO: The literal meaning of the word Sahar is ‘just before dawn’ and I think that perfectly captures the feeling of being in this in-between realm that I felt at the time of creating the album, and still feel a bit right now.

MO: Where is this feeling of being in an in-between state coming from? TAM: It has a lot to do with what my life has looked like in the last couple of years. I went from moving to Amsterdam to study, where I felt so out of place, to moving back to Belgium and my music career taking off, and starting to tour almost immediately for years. It felt a bit like tunnel vision — my life started to just revolve around one thing. I’m still very young, and feel like a child on so many levels, but I'm working very much like an adult.

MO: The album was written during the solitary times of the pandemic. How has that period affected you? TAM: I was always planning on having a break because my team saw that I was feeling a bit burned out. So when it came a bit earlier than expected, I was quite happy about it. That said, I always imagined that when I will have my rest, I will be able to integrate into the world again as a regular person who's not traveling all the time, but then that wasn't the case either because everyone was at home, and life as we knew it was on hold. I think that period has definitely contributed to that feeling of in-betweenness as well, and was also a very transformative and important time for me personally.

MO: You're starting touring again later this year. Having this perspective now, how are you going to try to avoid the burnout you had a couple of years ago? TAM: That was the one thing I kept saying to myself during the break, “I’m going to learn from this and take this zen feeling that I found into the busy life that awaits me again." Of course, I’m not sure how well I will do, but it definitely already affected how I approach work. For example, I’m now in New York for a couple of weeks and not just packing all the promotion stuff into one week because I thought, "I don't really have that much to do in July, so let me spend some time here and see what it’s like." I wanted to be here long enough to be able to ground myself, get to know some new people, have fun and be inspired.

MO: That sounds like a really good idea! What are your favorite places in the city so far? TAM: I’m staying in Williamsburg, which I really like. I also really enjoy the Lower East Side. I went to Central Park yesterday, which is always amazing. But I have yet to discover a bar or a restaurant that I really love — I’ll know when it will happen because I’m a creature of habit, so when I find it, I will want to return there every day. [Laughs.]

MO: Which of the songs on the album was the easiest to write and which one was the most challenging? TAM: The one that I wrote really fast was The Longing, the first song on the album. I first came up with the guitar-picking sound that I recorded on my phone and the next day while being in bed, I listened back to the recording and started humming the melody. Then, all of the verses came in one go! I was stunned because that rarely happens, so that was a very cool moment. A Drop of Blood was probably the song that was the biggest challenge for me because it was the one that I knew I wanted to write — all the other ones were improvised while I was trying out sounds with the guitar. With this song, I knew that I wanted to accompany myself with the oud as the main instrument, just like my grandfather and father did in the past. It was very important for me to have at least one song like this on the album [to honor] the traditions of Egyptian and [more broadly] Arabic music.

MO: Looking back, do you remember having a clear moment when you realized that music was something that you wanted to pursue as a career? TAM: Music was always something I did, but I never really thought about making a career out of it — I remember that while I was growing up, I never really worried about how l am going to make money later and I'm very thankful for that to my mom. We didn’t have a lot growing up — she was a single mom with three kids — but she never put pressure on us to earn a lot or anything like that. I do remember clearly writing my first song when I was fourteen and the feeling of ecstasy that I got from it — for me, it was one of the best feelings in the world and something I've been chasing ever since!

MO: What's a music album that changed your life? TAM: There’s been so many, but one that comes to mind immediately is one by Radiohead that I got when I was also around fourteen. I don’t think it was even a specific album, but rather The Best of Radiohead — I just remember being so inspired by their music when I first heard it. Now, my favorite record of theirs is In Rainbows.

MO: That's so cool! It must be a totally dream-come-true situation then for you to now be able to work with Colin Greenwood [one of Radiohead's band members] — I saw that you collaborated with him for Sahar. TAM: Yeah, it's amazing! It sometimes still feels so surreal when I think about it, but now, Colin has really become a friend to me — we have played a lot of concerts together and he did seven songs with me on the new record. He's a lovely person and it’s a dream to work with a musician of his caliber.

MO: How did you guys first meet? TAM: We had mutual friends in Antwerp — they took him to one of my shows and that’s how it started.

MO: Let’s end with a throwback question: who was the first musician you saw playing live and what impact did that make on you? TAM: It was Lenny Kravitz at Sportpaleis in Antwerp. Also, his song I’ll Be Waiting was the first song I deliberately learned by heart — I performed it at a school concert. I love Lenny, he's such a good performer!

#tamino #tamino amir #behind the blinds #article #interview #english #2022 #with photoshoot #original text #Huge thanks to taminodaily on twt and an anonymous source for sharing these photos!! :D #i can be at peace now #edit: HUGEE THANK YOU to zita @maneskinglows on twt for sending in these updated photos!!! theyre a bit clearer than the prev ones :)) #also i was going to edit out the glare for all the photos but im sorry i cannot bear it anymore i had to edit out their thumb #and if i have to do any more cutting and pasting and warping and shifting and colour matching i'm going to lose my Mind #as it is i used the smudge tool to edit out the glare just dont look too closely thank you 🫶 #maybe one day i'll come back to this and be more professional about it but umm until then

[bripops]

omg I'm so giddy I cannot decide which WIP to ask you about because they all sound flipping amazing but maybe 3 or 6, whichever you feel happiest with rn? (ps first time caller, long time listener -- just wanna say I'm a huge huge fan of all your fics)

AHH OMG I DIDN'T THINK ANYONE WOULD ACTUALLY ASK ME ANYTHING, YOU GET ALL OF THE ABOVE

3. hopeless, breathless, burning slow [horny dirk gently treatise]

So this one is actually published [ao3 link], but I put it in there because it was published recently and I thought the working title was funny lmao. It was honestly a classic example of this post that's like "yeah bro it's a character study. the 2 thousand words of blowjob is vital to the study of the character" where I wanted to write Dirk getting absolutely railed but I also wanted to talk about why getting absolutely railed is a profound, important thing to him. 5,000 words later, that was the result lol

6. it's dangerous (I'm falling) [megstiel fuckfest]

okay so I've been on the megstiel hype squad forever and got the idea a few years back for a s7 canon divergence AU. the basic plot is that after Cas takes on Sam's madness, he ends up giving his grace to the Winchesters to use as a nuke against the Leviathans, and Meg ends up in the same caretaker role for him because he's not quite human but he's also definitely not an angel and needs to be kept out of the way while they figure it all out. the two of them end up in a shitty apartment trying to figure out where Castiel's limits are, which is of course a deeply satisfying experience for Meg that turns sexual REALLY quickly. they bond over shared trauma, daddy issues, teaching Cas how to smoke a joint, and sexually charged sparring scenes. here's a snippet:

“Tell me about the stars, Clarence,” Meg said lazily, looking up at the sky. The city lights washed out a lot of them, but they could still see a few burning above the haze. 

“What would you like to know?” Castiel asked. 

Meg shrugged. “I dunno,” she said, “weren’t you there when they were created or some shit? Gimme something that’ll come in handy at trivia night.”

“You don’t go to trivia night,” Cas said, “and the stars came before I did. They were part of let there be light. I have no memory of their creation.”

“Make something up then,” Meg said. “What about that one?”

She pointed up, and Castiel was more or less able to follow to the star she was looking at. It was particularly bright, blinking in the night sky and if he focused, he could almost make out the shift in color.

“That’s a binary star,” he explained. “It looks like one point of light, but it’s two stars orbiting around a common center. In a few million years they’ll collide and be destroyed on impact.”

“Well shit,” Meg said, pulling another joint out of her pack of cigarettes. Her lighter flickered in the dark and she inhaled deeply. Wordlessly, not looking away from the sky, she held it out to Cas.

He shook his head first before realizing she wouldn’t see it. “No thank you,” he said, “I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough.” His throat was still raw from coughing his way through the first joint.

“Oh come on,” Meg said, propping herself up on her elbows and looking over at Cas. “I’m sure you have a few more hits in you.”

Castiel shook his head again now that she could see him do it, and enjoyed the way his body hummed with the movement. He was relaxed head to toe, his fingertips tingling and his skin hyper-sensitive to every shift against the blanket, every brush of the breeze on his face.

Meg took another hit, and blew the smoke into Castiel’s face. He grumbled, closing his eyes against the sting, and Meg laughed.

“How about we shotgun it,” she offered.

“I don't see what firearms have to do with this," Cas said, frowning. Now probably wasn't the best time to check if he could still shoot a gun; he hadn't even brought one.

Meg laughed. “Oh my god, you’ve been alive for thousands of years and still act like you were born yesterday. C’mere.”

Cas shifted up so he was propped on his elbows too and looked at Meg curiously.

“When I breathe out, you breathe in, okay?”

“What--” Castiel started to say, but she was already taking a drag.

Cas watched her do it, transfixed by the easy way her lips wrapped around the joint and how her chest rose as she inhaled. When she’d taken enough, Meg leaned in close until she was just a few inches from Castiel’s lips. He wondered, in a fuzzy-minded daze, if he was about to be kissed.

Instead, smoke poured out of her mouth, and remembering to do what he was told, Cas breathed in. He filled his lungs, but it burned less, and he was too distracted by Meg’s closeness to mind much.

“Better?” she asked with a smirk.

Cas exhaled, watching the smoke spiral towards the sky.

“Much,” he said, lying back down. He had a full-body buzz that felt like TV static on his brain, making his limbs heavy and his eyes close. He felt Meg shift next to him, and when Castiel opened his eyes again she was leaning over him, almost nose-to-nose.

It was a testament to the weed that he didn’t startle, just blinked up at her.

“Want another?”

#writing meme #literally you could ask me about all of them and I would tell you about all of them #I'm so stoked someone actually asked lmao

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade

Chapter 3: Trigger

Chapter 2 | Chapter 4

Sorry all for the delayed posting! Yesterday got insane and so I didn't get any time to edit and whatnot. I hope you all enjoy this new chapter! 🥰

TW: general stress, Simone is condescending as always, some not-so-fun glimpses into Lena's past, feelings of betrayal, confrontations, drinking, smoking, mentions of drugs, threats of violence (nothing graphic), panic attacks

"Get in here and give your aunt a hug."

Yeah. That happened. I took in a deep breath of Aunt Maddie's faint perfume. Light florals with hints of dirt and peony. The smell alone made me go stiff in her arms. This was definitely happening.

"What the fuck?" Sasha mumbled, eyes wide and mouth hung open, earning a glare from Howard and a slap to the arm from Ari. Everyone looked the same as he did, even those that hid it in well. Shit.

Maddie pulled back and smiled at me. "It's been a long time." With a soft sigh, she brushed the hair away from my face. "You look just like your mother when she was your age."

My hands clenched at my sides as I forced a smile on my face. "It's good to see you again, Aunt Maddie."

She looked around the room a bit, calculating but enjoying the anxious and scrambled reaction her surprise visit elicited. "I seem to have disrupted your service prep." She turned back to Howard. "Think there's still time for a quick tasting?"

I could hear Scotts quiet groan behind me as Howard nodded. "For you, of course, Chef."

"Excellent!" Maddie said, giving my cheek a light pinch. "Are you ready to show me what you've got?"

The sentence, and implications that came with it, was one I was well versed in. I knew it from the years I spent in Aunt Maddie's kitchen cooking beside her every holiday and visit, as well as the years of studying beneath her that followed once I was old enough. Plate after plate. Dish after dish. "Come on kid, show me what you've got." I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded. "Of course, Chef."

She smiled even wider and looked past me. "Simone, care to show me to my table?"

The blonde woman looked far more unhappy than I'd ever seen as she nodded. Her lips were stuck into a thin line as the stiff and poorly contained anger simmered in her eyes. That calculating mind of hers was no doubt having a field day with all the newfound information my aunt's visit was giving her. I almost felt bad that I wouldn't likely be around to witness the blow-up she was no doubt about to have. "Of course."

They walked out together, talking about wine and Howard gave me a sympathetic look before following them. He'd been new at the time, but he'd seen enough to know how complicated my relationship was with my aunt. Everyone around me remained frozen. Were they judging me? Were they all carefully preparing what malicious words they spew my way? Was tonight the last night these people would see me as their friend?

It was Scott that broke the silence. "We've got a tasting and service to prep for. If you're not kitchen staff get the fuck out and do your jobs!"

I remained glued to where I stood as they slowly funneled out of the kitchen, either sparing me a look or not even looking at all. God damn it all.

A hand settled on my shoulder. Warm and familiar, Isaac, but I stepped away from it anyway, the scar burning beneath my clothes. He understood, dropping his hand and leaning to catch my eyes. "Are you gonna be okay?"

"Yeah," I answered. "I just…" I rubbed my shoulder, desperate to alleviate the uncomfortable sensation. "I just wasn't expecting that."

"I know."

Shaking my head I gestured to the stairs. "I'm gonna get dressed. Tell Scott not to start the tasting without me?"

Isaac looked worried, and maybe he had reason to be, but he nodded. "You got it."

The locker room felt like the only place with breathable air. I sat down on the couch and greedily sucked in everything I could of it. I don't care what they think of me, I reminded myself, smoothing my hands along the leather sleeves of my dad's jacket. All that matters is what I think of me. Following my normal routine I hung my jacket, tracing the letters for a short moment before buttoning up my shirt and pulling the cook's coat over it. All that matters is me.

I hurried down the stairs and stood in front of the kitchen with my back straight. "The kitchen is no place for soft people." Maddie's voice echoed in my ears. "Back straight, head high and get your shit together Lena." 

Scott sighed when he saw me. “Fucking finally. I’m assuming you know what this shit show is all about?”

“Yeah,” I admitted. “Sorry about the unnecessary stress, Chef.”

“Maddie’s always stressful, but this… this is a whole new fucking thing.” He nodded to me. “So, what do we need to do?”

I smiled at him. “How would you feel about going off menu?”

His brows raised. “You serious?”

“Absolutely.”

“You know what she’s like when even the tiniest detail is changed right?”

“Yeah, I do.” I shrugged. “What do you say, Chef? Willing to trust me for an hour?”

Scott laughed quietly. “You’re crazy, but let's fucking do it.”

“If you don’t mind, I’ll take lead. It should keep you off the chopping block when she inevitably has an issue.”

“You sure you want to take the heat?” He questioned. “I know Howard won’t fire my ass over a dash of salt, but you're still the newbie.”

Aunt Maddie wouldn’t fire me, but that certainly didn’t save me from whatever harsh punishment she’d dish out to send a message. “I’ll be fine Chef, I’m used to her moods.”

“Yeah, I guess you are, huh?” He noted working beside me as I got the image of what I was cooking in mind. “What’s the story behind that?”

“Save it for after service,” I reminded gathering the last of the ingredients together and smiling up at him. “You ready to get in trouble?”

Scott looked around the kitchen, “We ready?”

“Yes, Chef!”

I explained the dish quickly, everyone already knew exactly what was expected of them which made it easy for me to work beside Scott as we insured all the components of the dish were perfect. If we were going to break the sacred rules Aunt Maddie placed, we may as well do it right. 

The dish I had in mind was simple, something we’d had on the menu for years but was rarely ordered anymore. I changed practically everything about it, elevating it to the new standards of the time but keeping enough components that it was still something she’d recognize. Simone stood in front of me as I plated the final product, the annoying feeling of her critical stare boring into the top of my head until I finally slid the plate toward her. “The chefs tasting.”

Her lips were pursed together as she took the plate. “This is… Interesting.”

Scott leaned back, watching the door with me while the rest of the kitchen prepared for tonight's service. “So what’s the point of this?

"Think of it like a game," I told him, my eyes still locked onto the doors.

"You ever win?"

"No."

“I don’t understand,” I said quietly, looking down at the plate of food Aunt Maddie shoveled into the garbage. “I did everything exactly like you did.”

She looked up at me and sighed. “That’s the problem, kid. I asked you to show me what YOU could do, not what I could do.”

That couldn’t be right. Aunt Maddie was strictly against anyone changing her dishes. “So, you want me to make something new?”

“I want you to showcase your talent. I want you to show me you understand the food.” She shook her head. “Maybe that’s just too much for you.”

“It’s not!” I insisted. “I can do it.”

I never did, at least not to her. The constant feeling of disappointment and failure was one of the many reasons I never finished studying under her. Howard entered gracefully, drawing in a deep breath before looking up and meeting my gaze. "You're off the line tonight. The owner suggested that you back wait at the bar." He looked at Scott. "She's cooking tonight. I trust you’ll be able to handle it."

Scott scoffed but nodded. "That'll be interesting."

"Best behavior everyone."

He nudged me. "You're off line? What the fuck does that mean?"

I shrugged my cook's coat off and sighed. "It means I win."

It didn’t feel as good as I’d wanted it to. There was no huge release of the weight that I’d been shouldering ever since I left her program. No feeling of accomplishment… there was practically nothing. I left my coat off to the side and walked out to the bar, moving behind it and jumping into work. Nicky looked over at me a smiled. “You out here tonight?”

“Looks like it.”

He nodded, refocusing on his task. “Well, hopefully, that means we’ll actually have the bar stocked tonight.”

I forced a smile. “I’m an excellent back waiter, Nic. You’ll have plenty of ice.”

Jake set the shot glass in front of me with a grin as I finished folding the napkins. “You look like you need it.”

“Thanks,” I said quietly, accepting the glass and downing the burning liquid inside quickly.

“So…”

“Save it for after service,” I reminded him, just as I did Scott.

“Do I need to save all my questions for later?”

I gave him a look. “Depends on the questions.”

He nodded, stacking a glass. “Why don’t we play twenty questions again?”

“Four.”

The sight of his wide smile made me feel a little more at ease, or maybe the shot was just starting to kick in. “That’s two more than last time.”

“Yeah, I’m in a generous mood today.”

“Alright,” he polished another glass as he thought. “Last night you said Leanin Lena was a boxing thing. Do you box?”

“Sometimes,” I answered. “I used to a lot, but just kind of stopped having time for it after a while.”

Jake nodded. “You any good?”

I smirked. “Is that your next question?”

“Again? Fine. You said you moved in with your dad and brother when you were fifteen. Where’d you live before?”

This question was one I’d always tread with caution. “A bit of everywhere. My mom traveled a lot for work and after my parents divorced she took me with her.”

“Where was your favorite?”

“Japan,” I replied with a smile. “Last question, better make it a good one.”

He nodded, looking very pleased with the answers I’d shared with him. “A good one, okay let’s see… Here’s one. How’d you get that scar on your shoulder?”

I froze entirely as my mind pulled up the faint smell of copper and distant shouting. “Ask something else.”

“What?”

“Ask something else,” I repeated coldly.

Whether or not he sensed the shift in the conversation or not didn’t matter, Jake thought for a minute longer before quietly asking, “What’s your favorite color?”

“Yellow.”

*

Service was quiet. Everyone was on their best behavior trying to avoid getting caught by the feared owner. This was the first time the restaurant felt as smothering as it had back in the day. The feeling didn’t lessen even after the guests had gone home and everyone began to filter out to the main room for drinks and answers. Aunt Maddie was still here, that was the reason all of them spoke softer and hadn’t touched any of the alcohol yet.

Howard exited the kitchen and stood beside the bar. “She wants to talk to you before she goes.”

“Wish me luck,” I grumbled as I passed him and walked into the kitchen.

She was sitting at the table, eating off a plate of leftovers or something she’d made to pass the time. “Sit down, I made enough for both of us.”

I pulled a chair up beside her and sat, quietly reaching over to take a piece of what she had. “It’s delicious.”

“A classic,” she replied. “One you’re no doubt familiar with by now.”

“I don’t think there’s a lot left I’m not familiar with.”

“You went off menu.”

There it is. "You told me to show you what I had, not what you did."

Aunt Maddie chuckled at the memory. "I guess I'm just… Disappointed. You had so much potential Lena, so much drive to be the best." 

"People change."

"I didn't expect you to be the same little girl that cooked with me at Christmas, especially not after what happened. But this… This isn't you."

Isn’t me? I wanted to scream at her, wanted to tell her that she didn’t know me… that she hadn’t for a long while now. But over that anger was my old self, timid and desperate for the approval of my aunt and the woman who had been my mentor since before I could remember. “Like I said, people change.”

Aunt Maddie nodded, with a thin and sad smile. “I trust you’ll be sticking to the menu from here on out?”

That’s all? That’s all you have to say to me after all that? “Of course, Chef.”

She stood, raising her hand to hesitantly brush my hair behind my ear. “Take care of yourself, kid. The last thing I wanna do on my next visit is see you in the hospital again.”

“I’ll be fine, Aunt Maddie,” I assured her, holding in all the hateful words I wanted to spew at the mention of the painful memory. They weren't for her, not a lot of them at least.

And just as quickly as she’d come, Aunt Maddie was gone. The kitchen was quiet and the crowd of waiting co-workers outside the doors steadily grew louder once they’d felt comfortable that she wasn’t around to hear them. I finished the plate of food and washed the dish before heading upstairs to the locker room. If I was going to face everyone I wanted to do it looking like me.

“So, Lena Glover?”

I nearly groaned at the sound of Simone’s soft voice coming from the doorway. “I was never an official Glover.” I shoved my shirt into the locker and straightened the straps of my tank top.

She only hummed, clearly disinterested in the technical side. “Still, Maddie and I have known each other for a long time. I’m surprised you never came up.”

“Maybe you weren’t as close as you thought,” I replied harshly.

“I think it made her sad,” she responded. “It seems like the two of you were close once. Having you resent her so much now was probably a lot to handle.”

Taking a deep breath and trying my best to keep from lashing out I replied, “You don’t know anything about what happened.”

Simone stepped into the room, quietly changing her clothes. “She talked about you a lot today. You are right though, I don’t know what happened, but it’s obvious that she cares about you.”

If she cared about me she would have defended me… She would have looked past herself and seen what was going on right in front of her. She would have done something. I shook my head to keep the malicious voices from taking root. “Do you want something from me?”

“Of course not.” Simone sighed and stood next to me. “I just want you to know since it looks like you’re here to stay for a while, that I’m not your enemy. You and I got off to a rocky start, but I do truly believe we could be friends.”

I looked over my shoulder at her. “You want to be friends?”

“Is that such a ridiculous thing to want?” This sounded too familiar. Simone smiled, smoothing her hand over my hair and down the scar on my shoulder. “Maybe it’s the boxer mentality that makes you think I’m out to get you, but I want nothing but the best for you and this restaurant.”

Boxer mentality? I pulled my shoulder away from her and turned back to my locker to finish getting dressed. “I have nothing against you, Simone. I just know you and I aren’t compatible to be friends.”

She nodded. “If you insist. Have a good night, Lena.”

My mind was racing as I walked down the stairs and out to the crowd of people waiting for me. Sasha smiled, clapping his hands. “How kind of you to finally grace us with your presence, your Majesty!”

I shook my head, moving behind the bar and pouring myself a drink. “Okay, let’s get this over with.”

To my surprise everyone was quiet. Scott was the one that spoke first. “So, Maddie Glover, the owner is your aunt. I’m guessing that's where you learned most of the shit you know.”

“Spot on, Chef.”

“So, if you would have stayed with it you would have my job right now?”

I shrugged. “Probably.”

He nodded with a fraction of a smile. “Thank fuck you quit then.”

The chatter picked up a bit after that, but it was mostly jokes. They asked if I was rich and made disappointed noised when I said no, but then they went about the night as if nothing had happened. “That’s it?”

Ari smiled at me. “Yeah, that’s it.”

Sasha reached over and squeezed my hand. “Who gives a shit what your last name is? You’re still our sexy and fierce Tiger Bitch!”

Isaac wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “Told you they wouldn’t give a shit.”

“Shut up,” I joked, pushing him.

Shift drinks went on as usual from there, everyone laughed and bitched about service and Maddie’s visit and then they all funneled out to head to Home Bar. Isaac stayed behind to put up all the chairs and make sure the linens got washed while Nicky, Jake, and I cleaned up the bar. Now that the majority of my stress was gone, Simone’s words in the locker room rattled around in my head as I put the glasses away.

“So, should I start calling you Glover now?” Jake teased giving me a sideways glance. Maybe another night I would have written it off as his normal jackass behavior, but his words mirrored Simone’s in a way that made it obvious I was right to be suspicious.

Simone had used information from last night to try and bring my guard down in the locker room, information only Jake could have given her. “No. I wasn’t ever an official Glover.”

His head tilted a bit as he wiped down the bar. “Why not?”

“Did you tell Simone about last night at The Ring?” I asked, brushing his prodding question aside.

“I probably mentioned it.” His demeanor barely shifted, no guilt or fear, just a plain look as if it were obvious that he’d tell her something like this. “Why was I not supposed to?”

Every inch of me was vibrating with everything the night had brought. Every inch of me wanted to lash out and tear him apart. “I just don’t see how that has anything to do with her.”

Jake shrugged. “I just figured she’d be able to help out is all.”

“Help with what?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Just kinda seemed like there was a lot of unresolved stuff there. Simone’s good with that kind of thing, she makes things like that better.”

Oh, I’m sure she does. I shook my head. “Look, I don’t know what your deal with her is and honestly I don’t care. Friends, siblings, lovers whatever, just keep my business out of it. If I need help I’d ask for it.”

He looked at me, light eyes filled with a sarcastic glimmer, and chuckled. “Are you mad at me?”

“Yes. Friends don't share each other's shit behind their backs.”

“Jesus, it was just an old boxing place.”

“I know it seems like nothing to you, but that old boxing place means a lot. It’s more than gloves and punching bags and sweaty guys Jake, and I trusted you with that piece of me. You. Not Sasha or Ari or Heather. And sure as fuck, not Simone. YOU.” The sarcasm vanished from his eyes, but what replaced it was something I couldn’t put my finger on. “I could have told you to go out front to smoke but I didn't. Hell, I could have let Dom's boys beat your ass. And you immediately went behind my back to share what you learned like it was some interesting shit you saw on the news. Either you're my friend or you're an idiotic little bird that tweets information in Simone's ear." I shook my head and grabbed my stuff, not bothering to wait for his shitty response. “Friends don’t do that.”

*

The banging on my bedroom door was what woke me from my deep sleep, but it was the two masses flopping down on top of my bed that made me open my eyes and glare at Prue and Quinn as they made themselves comfortable in my bed. “Good morning?”

“Good morning!” Quinn cheered, far too loudly.

“What the fuck are you two doing here at…” I checked my clock and groaned. “Eight.”

Prue sat up. “Isaac filled us in on what happened last night. So we figured you’d need you two badass bitches to help cheer you up!”

“I’m not upset,” I replied silently. It wasn’t a full lie, but that mattered very little when the two of them were concerned.

“Just shut up and come with us to breakfast!”

I looked between the two of them and sighed, sitting up. “Pancakes, mountains of bacon, and booze?”

Quinn nodded. “Plus a day of shopping and shit-talking.”

“I’m in.”

Prue squealed. “Go shower, I’ll pick out your outfit!”

“Nothing crazy!”

She crossed her finger over her heart and nodded, hopping over to my closet and rummaging through my clothes. Quinn waved me toward the bathroom. “Go, I’ll make sure she picks something good.”

Together my friends picked out a suitable outfit and walked a few blocks to the breakfast spot we always went to and sat down in our usual booth. They didn’t ask questions about last night, nor did they make comments about how I was still shaken by the whole thing. They knew me better than that and so they talked about anything and everything else.

Quinn went on about a few guys she’d gone on dates with a few weeks ago, while Prue prodded me for information on Will. “As much as I’d love to help you get into my co-worker's pants, I don’t know him that well.”

She whined. “Give me something Lena!”

“Why Will?” Quin signed with a shake of her head. “He looks vanilla as hell.”

“He looks like a total cutie!” Prue argued. “And I wanna jump on that massive d-”

I ran my hands down my face and groaned. “Oh my god, you two need to chill out!”

“Shut up!” Quinn kicked me from beneath the table. “Like you’re any better!”

“Don’t fuckin start with this!”

She threw herself dramatically back into the seat causing Prue to go into a fit of giggles. “He’s so tall!”

“Shut up!”

“That earring!” Prue joined in.

“The tattoos!”

“All that leather and those chains!”

I grabbed Prue’s hands and glared at Quinn. “You two are the worst.”

“Hey, you said it, not us.”

“I was drunk.”

Quinn smirked. “Doesn't mean you didn’t mean it.”

“We all know you get honest when you drink too much.”

I leaned back in my seat and rolled my eyes as our food came. “Fine. He’s hot. Sue me.”

“I don’t know why you don’t just sleep with him,” Quinn said as she drown her pancakes in syrup. “It’d be fun.”

“He looks like he’d be into some freaky shit.”

“I’m not having this conversation again,” I insisted. “He’s a co-worker and a massive asshole so I will not be sleeping with him.”

“Fine,” Quinn grumbled. “Leaves more time for me to talk about who I’m fucking.”

We spent the day walking around and occasionally trying on some clothes. It was nice, to have something else to do and think about instead of my Aunt or Simone, or Jake. When it got late we headed to the bar where we were met with a huge crowd of people and the bar practically smothered in bodies. I hurried over to help out while the girls did their best to keep people's spirits up. Ozzy sighed when he saw me. “Thank god you’re here!”

“What’s going on?” I asked grabbing a large tray of glasses.

“Ian’s late,” he answered. “Started fine but then we got hit with a wave of people. That friend of yours’ band is drawing in a crowd when they play!”

With me, Ozzy, and Max behind the bar the crowd slowly started to die down and people were finally back to their dancing and drunken rants. Quinn and Prue sat down on the stools and made light conversation with me while I worked. Quinn flirted with Max, as she always did, and Prue kept her eyes peeled for Will. Just as Ari’s band took the stage Sasha and the others filed in and shoved themselves into place by the bar. Prue smoothed her hair down and smiled at Will, doing her best to have a conversation with him with the limited knowledge of sign language he knew.

I smirked at the sight of Will’s blush as I moved in front of Sasha. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”

“I would never miss my lovely Ari’s show!” Sahsa proclaimed loudly cheering for the girl.

“What can I get you guys to drink?”

Will was the only one that bothered to answer me as the rest of them pranced off toward the dancefloor. “Just beers. Thanks, Lena.”

Prue offered to help Will carry the drinks and find a table. She winked at me as the two of them disappeared into the crowd. I served the next line of drinks and then turned to find Jake leaning against the bar watching me. “Didn’t know you came with them.”

He shrugged. “You working?”

“Kind of, one of the bartenders was late so I jumped in to help.”

“Truly inspiring acts of kindness.”

Just as I was about to ask him what he wanted Ian slid behind the bar, hood up and face down. “Fucking finally! You’re two hours late Ian!”

“Sorry, Lena,” he mumbled quietly.

I grabbed his arm when he tried to move past me. “What’s going on?” When he finally looked up to reveal his face, beaten and bruised and covered in deep scratches I yanked his hood down and began looking over his head for any signs of injuries. “What happened?” I demanded, looking over Ian’s face gently.

“I got jumped in the alley last night. One of Dom's new guys thought I was causing trouble or something.”

I stood up straighter. “Which one?”

Ian shook his head. “It’s okay Lena, I’m alright.”

“Like hell you are,” Quinn said, leaning over to look at his face. “You’re gonna need at least three stitches.”

“Which one, Ian?”

He nodded toward the table Dom and the bikers usually sat at. “Red bandana.”

I looked over at Quinn. “You and Prue get him cleaned up.” 

“On it!”

Knocking on Ozzy’s office door I hollered. “OZ, I need you to help Max cover the bar for a minute!”

Once I heard him respond I moved quickly, brushing past Jake and making my way toward the table of bikers. Isaac called out to me to wait and Patrick was on his feet in an instant. Grabbing their small tray of drinks I tipped it over right into the man in the red bandana's lap. He shot up. “What the hell?”

“Stay the fuck away from the bartenders.”

With a loud chuckle, he moved closer toward me, nostrils flaring and eyes wide. “I don’t take orders from little fucking cunts.”

I stood my ground, hands burning as I tightened them into fists. “Well if you want to keep your teeth I suggest you make an exception.”

Just as he took another step toward me, one that would have put us chest to chest Dom’s hand shot out and pushed against his chest. “That’s enough, Malcolm.”

“She’s the one you gotta tell,” he insisted. “Crazy cunt wants a fight.”

Patrick tapped my arm. “Come on Lena, let security handle this clown.”

"Put your bitch on a leash Dom or I'll do it for you,” I spat as I brushed past him.

Quinn cleared out a booth and shoved Ian into the seat, setting down the glass and filling it to the brim with tequila. “You’re gonna want to drink that.”

Prue had already donned the gloves from the first aid kit and was preparing everything she needed to take care of Ian’s injuries. Sasha blew his smoke toward me with a smile. “How glad I am to not be on the other side of the claws!”

“The night’s still young,” I replied, only half paying attention to him. Ozzy stood behind the bar, watching me with a careful gaze, one I usually saw right before he scolded me for being reckless. I got Prue’s attention with a gentle touch to her shoulder and signed, “You got this?”

“Of course I do,” she responded. “I am a professional.”

With the knowledge that Ian was safely in the hands of Quinn and Prue, I quickly excused myself to escape the overwhelming noise and Ozzy’s concerned gaze. The back hall that led to the bathrooms was always a bit crowded, but the noise was usually manageable. I just needed a minute, one quick minute to clear my head. Jake’s familiar voice called out down the hall, “Hey, you alright?”

I looked up to see him making his way through the mess of bodies, either sharing whatever drugs Dom had sold them or nearly tearing each other's clothes off. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look like it,” he insisted.

“If I need your help, I’ll ask for it.” I reminded him coldly.

Jake shook his head. “Come on, Lena, I thought you wanted to be friends.”

Rolling my eyes I leaned back against the wall. “I don’t like people that gossip about my life.”

“It wasn’t gossip.”

“You were talking about me behind my back with someone I think I’ve made it pretty clear I don’t trust.” I shrugged. “That sounds an awful lot like gossip to me.”

“I know Simone comes off strong, but I think you’d like her if you gave her a chance.”

“I don’t need to give her a chance, I already know everything I need to.”

He looked upset at my response, more so at my implication that I didn't trust her, and shook his head in frustration, lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag before speaking again, “Well, she's all I had for a long time. We tell each other everything.”

It was like talking to a wall. A really dumb, really pretty wall. “If you can’t keep my shit out of your little honesty pow-wows then just say it and move on Jake.”

"You don't get it," he said, blowing smoke out of the side of his mouth.

"Let me guess, no one does?" I finished with a scoff. "That might make a good argument against innocent little doe-eyed girls that don’t know better, but it won't cut it with me."

Jake scoffed a dark, venomous smirk spread on his lips. "You don't know anything about what we went through."

"Do you really think you're the only ones that got dealt a shitty hand?" I demanded all that rage, all that fire burning hot inside my lungs. "Cause newsflash you aren't." The floodgates opened in an instant, memories of all I'd endured… All I'd given… All I'd lost filled every inch of my being. "You weren't the only ones that got neglected or beaten or starved or that lost someone you loved. You weren't the only ones thrown off the deep end and told to sink or swim…" my voice faltered as tears stung my eyes. Jake's anger was gone, replaced by that hideous and all too familiar look. Pity. I shoved myself off the wall and pushed past him. "Go home, Jake."

His hand moved quickly, wrapping around my arm and causing a chill to run up my spine followed by the instinctual flinch I'd thought I put behind me. "Lena -"

I pulled my arm free and glared at him. "Go. Home."

Thankfully he didn't try to follow me as I made my way out the back door and across the dark alley. The Ring was quiet tonight, most of the regulars were at home sleeping to prepare for the coming fights. I moved to the back locker, dinged and dented and covered in old stickers and graffiti, and nearly ripped it open to grab the old boxing gloves with Dad and Peter's names sewn into the leather. I wrapped my hands tightly and shoved them into the gloves.

Chains created and groaned as my fists collided with the dense bag in front of me. Old faces blurred my vision. Pain ignited in my chest as my breaths grew uneven and my punches hit harder. 

"Show me what you've got."

"So, Lena Glover?”

"I guess I'm just disappointed."

"Should I be calling you Glover now?"

"This isn't you."

"Come on little one! I don’t have all day!"

Two arms wrapped around me, pulling me gently back into the familiar smell of Patrick's cheap cologne and Irish whiskey. "Breathe Lena. You need to breathe."

I could feel the water pulling me down, could feel the cold biting at my limbs, and taste the bitterness of the water on my tongue. As my vision blurred more I could see the outline of the boat, and the figure that stood on it. "Sink or swim."

“Just breathe.”

Sink or swim.

#Nightshade #sweetbitter #sweetbitter fic #sweetbitter jake #jake sweetbitter #sweetbitter jake and oc #sweetbitter jake x oc #tom sturridge fanfiction #tom sturridge jake #sweetbitter simone #sweetbitter scott #sweetbitter ari #sweetbitter sasha #sweetbitter howard #sweetbitter smut #sweetbitter maddie #sweetbitter will #jake x lena #jake and lena #Lena Harrow #Prue #Quinn #Ozzy #Patrick #sweetbitter fluff #sweetbitter angst #sweetbitter fix it #tom sturridge #tom sturridge sweetbitter #sweetbitter original characters

[inkpens-coffee]

Maruki Week 2023 - Day 1 🍎

Research / New Start / Music

Takuto’s mother was right. There really isn’t a damn thing rewarding about science. He thinks about her words as he watches years of research go up in flames. Literally.

The bonfire was Shibusawa’s idea; that burning the past would help him let go of it. Even though it’s good for him, Takuto’s heart aches as his life’s work burns in front of him; those heavily annotated books on the human mind, printed articles on cognitive psience and his beloved research paper gone for good. Takuto sheds a few tears as he brings the wine glass in his hand to his lips. This is for the better, he tells himself.

“That’s all of it, right?” Shibusawa is in the lawn chair next to him. “Every last thing?”

“Mhmm,” Takuto nods.

“Nothing else backed up on the cloud or thumb drive anywhere?”

“Uh…”

Shibusawa furrows his brow before sighing and drinking his wine. “I’m taking your computer for the night, you’ll get it back tomorrow morning.”

“Ok…” Takuto tapped his nails against the wine glass, focusing his attention on the embers floating around. Shibusawa had been nothing but supportive to him on his path to recovery. That morning after the collapse of his Palace, Shibusawa was the first person Takuto called. The second his friend arrived, Takuto collapsed into his arms sobbing hysterically. Shibusawa didn’t leave his side the entire day, even stayed the night take make sure he was safe.

“So, now that you’ve burned your past, what are you planning on doing next? You gonna go back to school?” He asked.

“No… I think I need time to do something nice for myself.”

“Hey, you could pick up one of your old hobbies! Do you still have that guitar from high school? Ladies love a music man!”

“God no, I only ever learned one song and you said it was cringe!” Takuto whined.

“Ok, ok,” Shibusawa swirled the wine in his glass around. “What about painting? You liked that didn’t you?”

“Too expensive.”

“I got it! How about being an assistant to a super cool wedding photographer?”

“Weren’t you just complaining about how stressful it was dealing with wedding parties yesterday?” Takuto laughed as his friend groaned dramatically. Shibusawa downed the rest of his wine and set the glass aside.

“Alright, so photography’s not for you. I’m just spitballing ideas here, whatever you think will be good for you is good enough for me, Takuto. Anything is better than killing yourself over cognitive psience.”

When Takuto opened his mouth to reply, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out to see the notification on the screen:

‘coffeejoker recently shared a new reel’

Takuto doesn’t remember when he followed Ren’s instagram account but he was glad he did. Recently the boy had gotten really into aerial hoops along with a couple of the former Phantom Thieves. Todays video was of him twirling upside down on the hoop, wearing a pure white leotard while the most ethereal sounding song playing. Sumire could be seen filming in the mirror in the background. Ren looked so happy, so at peace. Takuto slowly smiled.

“Remember when Rumi signed us up for couples aerial silk classes?”

“Oh yeah, didn’t she quit after the first one?” Both of them laughed.

“The second one! She tied herself in the silk wrong and got stuck upside down for almost an hour, god, she was so upset after!”

“Oh man! Fingers crossed my girl doesn’t drag me to any type of dance classes, I do not have the grace for that,” Shibusawa said through laughs.

Takuto wiped a few tears from his eyes, Ren’s video replaying on his phone. The music sounded so nice, listening to it while spinning on the hoop must’ve been such a soothing experience for Ren.

“I kinda liked the class though… being on the silk made me feel like I was flying, it was nice…”

Shibusawa studied the calm look on Takuto’s face as he watched that kid’s dance video. He’s not ashamed to admit he thinks his friend is beautiful, stunning really. He’s asked Takuto to model for his aesthetic photography more than once only for him to timidly decline, saying he didn’t have the right look. Shibusawa’s eyes darted to Ren’s video. He grinned and stood up.

“Ok then. We’ll go scout out some dance studios tomorrow when you get off work.” He said.

“Huh?” Takuto looked up from his phone.

“Dance students need photographers, right? Who knows, maybe it’s better business than weddings!”

“Wait, what are you talking about?”

Shibusawa just smiled at his friend and pat his back. “Aerial dance classes. No harm in trying them out again, right? I’m gonna go fill these back up,”

He took Takuto’s empty glass and his own before going back in the house. The doctor sat there quiet for a moment. He looked back at the dwindling fire, the books and papers reduced to ash at this point. He stared at the flame for a moment before tapping the replay button on Ren’s video one more time. Takuto cradled the phone in his hand, quietly humming along to the pleasant song.

#MARUKI ON AERIAL SILKS #leave me alone I’m obsessed with Mel’s new album right now #p5r #persona 5 royal #takuto maruki #p5r shibusawa #takutomarukiweek2023 #ren amamiya #roommates au #if you squint #Spotify

[thompsborn]

hello @ the anon whose birthday was yesterday: i’m very sorry i didn’t get hb chapter 16 done, i tried but things came up that made it so i wasn’t able to make a lot of progress on it, BUT i hope you had an incredible birthday and i will probably wish you a happy birthday in the authors note on the chapter when i do eventually post it! however, i promised that if i didn’t get the chapter done then i would post some snippets from it for you!! it’s a day late now, but here they are!!

firstly, i’m gonna tell you the chapter song!!

medicine by havelin

the chapter title:

when i first saw you i was pitiful

and the chapter lyrics:

“i hope you know

you pulled me up when i was down

you showed me love when i knew hopelessness

breathing slowly, softer sounds”

and now, a few snippets! (these are unedited as of now, so any typos and grammar errors should be fixed when the chapter is actually posted lol)

-

The song changes—BomBom transitions into Talking to Myself by Watsky.

Peter lets out a slow, shaky breath as the music washes over him, the introductory instrumental quickly giving way to the lyric heavy majority. On the next swing, he flings himself to the side, off of the street and above a nearby apartment building. Letting himself drop to the roof, he rolls onto his feet and gives himself a moment to look around for security cameras. Once he’s sure that it’s clear, he pulls his mask up—not all the way off, but just enough to hook it over the bridge of his nose, allowing the crisp late-winter air to ease the sudden ache in his lungs.

These songs mean a lot to him, even if he still struggles to understand them. Harley is pretty straightforward in a lot of ways, tends to wear his heart on his sleeve and make his cards known, but Peter’s started to realize the fact that maybe that isn’t entirely true. Harley definitely seems like an open book, but Peter had absolutely zero indication of the fact that he knew Tony, too. Thinking back on it, Tony had mentioned another kid every once in a while. Not very often, always making it clear that it was someone he knew but someone who didn’t want to be talked about, but even then, not once had Peter considered the fact that the kid Tony mentioned could have been Harley. His friend. His crush. A very fundamental part of who he is now.

Basically, Peter thought he could guess with Harley, thought he knew more than enough to be able to decipher Harley’s brain and understand the way he thinks—but then Harley gave him the burned CD. Despite it being over a month since Peter received it, he still doesn’t fully understand. Each song has a meaning, right? Harley made that clear in his note. Either the song made him think of Peter in some way, or he thought Peter would like the song, or both.

Peter is a puzzle solver. He’s a quick thinker with the brain of a chemist, a scientist, an engineer. He likes to look at inconclusive data and figure out a conclusion for it. But this? These songs?

…but as time advanced, the lovely days were covered up from view by an advancing melancholy haze that hovered near the dew…

Peter has yet to decipher them.

-

His fingers twitch at his sides and he spins around, pulling his mask back over his nose and mouth before promptly launching himself off the roof. He feels antsy. Restless. Thoughtless swinging is a good way to distract that feeling and give his brain the ability to stay on track. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, really,” Harley replies, the concern from before falling away. “I got bored. Harry and Gwen are at some study group for one of their classes and I was trying to do this essay, but it’s… I mean, it’s boring. Really easy, you know? Kinda hard to focus on ‘cause the topic is super simple and not at all interesting. I know I wasn’t gonna stop by today, but I was—I mean. I…” Here, Harley trails off, sounding uncertain of his words.

Peter launches himself over an intersection. Below him, a few cars honk as he flies over them. He waves but remains focused on the call, listening as Harley sucks in a sharp breath, lets it out slowly, almost… nervous? Anxious? Afraid? Peter frowns, parts his lips to ask—

“I was just wondering if you’d maybe wanna hang out,” Harley blurts, a bit rushed and breathy. Peter’s frown deepens, confused. “Just, like—like, a normal hang out.”

“As opposed to…?”

Harley huffs, something that’s kind of a laugh but also not his normal laugh. “No investigation stuff,” he supplies. “No Spidey stuff. No school stuff. Just… us. Hanging out. Together.” Then, almost as an afterthought, he adds, “Maybe a movie and some snacks…?”

-

(“It’s stupid,” Peter said when it was his turn, hands clasped around his cup of coffee and eyes flittering around their booth to avoid direct eye contact. “It’s kind of embarrassing, actually.”

Gwen quirked her brows. “Well, now you have to tell us. Is it Boss Baby?”

“50 First Dates?” Harry ventured. “Bring It On?”

An offended gasp ripped its way out of Gwen’s throat as she whipped around to face Harry sitting across from her. “Hey! Bring It On is a classic, okay? Don’t you dare—“

“Okay, lesbian,” Harry interrupted, rolling his eyes. Gwen parted her lips again, but slowly closed them with a glare after a moment. Peter snorted and shook his head.

“No, it’s, like—it’s not the movie that’s embarrassing, I guess? It’s more… the reason why.”

Harley was sitting across from him, head cocked slightly to the side as he peered at Peter curiously. “Mine’s The Pursuit Of Happyness,” he offered. It wasn’t his turn—he wasn’t supposed to go until after Peter—but still he spoke up, explaining, “It’s kind of fucked up, I think, but it’s, like… I mean, my dad left before I was ten, right? And I don’t really give a shit anymore—it’s basically been a decade, I’m over it for the most part, but…” He trailed off, averting his eyes away from Peter despite Peter looking back at him with surprise.

Harley has mentioned his dad a few times since they met, but only vaguely, here and there. Every time has been apathetic and deadpan, done as soon as it began, but this…

“I just—I guess I like stories where there’s a good dad, you know?” Harley shrugged, lopsided as he shrunk back in his seat a little bit. “Maybe it doesn’t make sense, but I like to see proof that there are good ones out there. Just because mine sucked doesn’t mean all of them do.”

Silence hung over their booth for a long moment. Harry looked understanding as he knocked his shoulder against Harley’s, sharing a small smile that Harley looks hesitant to return, while Gwen looked on with something a bit sad but a bit warm on her face, like she was upset about Harley having this struggle but she was glad that Harley was sharing. Peter kept his gaze on Harley, refused to move it away, waiting until Harley eventually looked back up and their eyes met across the table. Only then did Peter speak.

“Homeward Bound,” he said, gaze steady on Harley. He saw the way Harley’s brows twitched together, the way he seemed to think for a moment, before his eyes went a little bit wide, apparently realizing exactly what movie Peter was talking about. “The one with the animals.”

The booth was silent again. Harley stared back at him.

Peter found that it wasn’t as hard as he thought it would be to explain, “It was one of May’s favorites. She was a nurse for a long time, you know? Wasn’t until after we came back from those five years that she decided to change it up. Before that, she worked in an emergency room. Sometimes in the ICU, when she was needed. She saw… a lot of things.”

He heard Harry shift in his seat. Felt Gwen’s eyes on him. He didn’t look away from Harley, didn’t even want to blink, and Harley continued to look right back. Gave a small nod, barely there, hard to see—but Peter saw it and felt the encouragement coming from that small action.

“She didn’t tell me about it,” Peter continued. “Some stuff, here and there, when I got older, but for the most part she kept it to herself, but I could tell when it had been a rough day. She’d come home looking like she aged ten years. And after a really rough day, she—I mean, she wouldn’t say it, but I could tell that she just needed a chance to get the emotions out, and she’d pick a movie or a show that has a happy ending but gets pretty sad along the way. Homeward Bound was one of her go-to picks. It’s a good movie, you know? Always made her cry but had her smiling at the end. I’d always watch it with her. It became one of my favorites.”

There’s more to it than that. Peter faltered, unsure if he wanted to keep going, but something in Harley’s eyes was shining and he felt some unexpected courage bubble up in his chest.

He still hesitated, but ultimately added, “It also… I think about May when I watch it, you know? Because I always watched it with her, but it also…” He trailed off, pondered his wording for a minute, before stating, “There were reasons it got to me, too. It’s emotional in a lot of ways and May always had a soft spot for animal movies, which I think is why she always picked it, but for me, it… it was kind of nice to see a family come together like that. I didn’t have that, you know? I don’t really remember my parents. I barely remember Ben. Looking back on it, I only really remember having May, and I love her, and I’m so grateful that I had her, but it was—”

Just lay it out. It’s just me and you.

I’m right here. We’re okay. It’s just me and you.

It’s just me and you, okay?

Pulling in a shaky breath, Peter said, “It was just me and her. I wouldn’t trade that for the world, but there were times growing up where I would think about what it could have been like if I had been raised by my parents, if Ben never died. Kind of like what you said, Harley, about wanting to see proof that there are good dads out there, right? That kind of logic. I want…”

Harley looked sad. He looked heavy. He looked like he wanted to go back in time and save Peter’s parents himself. Like he wanted to use Tony’s tech to prevent Ben from dying.

“I want to have that reassurance that not everyone ends up like me,” Peter finally said.

With that, he looked away—down at the table, at his cup of coffee. He went quiet and waited until the others picked up conversation, apparently realizing that he was done talking for the time being. Even then, he didn’t look up. Not until he felt something hit his foot, and then he glanced at Harley, who was still looking at him with something horribly sad and overwhelmingly fond in his eyes. Harley hooked their ankles together under the table. Smiled.

Peter slowly, slowly, slowly smiled back.)

-

happy birthday anon!!!

#homeward bound fic #homeward bound fic spoilers #parkner #my writing

[starburstgalexies]

Falling, Fallen

Short, fluffy aether/heizou relationship study because I was too normal about them yesterday.

ao3 link or you can simply read more below. Rated M, 1786w.

“I love you.” 

It’s nonchalant, muttered into the back of Heizou’s neck like an exhale. Fitting, because it comes as natural as breathing. Clearly not planned, not up to the very moment it was out. 

Heizou’s heart stops in his chest regardless. 

Because none of that changes the fact that this is the first time Aether said it. 

Of course, Aether is a man of action, and Heizou is nothing if not observant. He’s already read ‘I love you’ in every touch, every kiss, every moment spent together on one of Heizou’s projects instead of reforming a nation, looking for a lost twin, or whatever the ‘legendary traveler’ has on his plate at the time. In theory, Heizou should not have been affected beyond yet another truth he’s inferred being acknowledged. 

In theory. 

In actuality, his breath gets caught in his lungs, and he goes stiff in Aether’s arms. 

Even then, Aether doesn’t appear to be worried. Heizou can’t see his face, but he reads patience in the way Aether’s forearms squeeze around his waist. Assurance in the way Aether further buries himself in the crook of his neck. Not a trace of vexation or concern, however.

Why would there be? The very first reason that Heizou fell in love with Aether is that he is observant enough to keep pace. He does not exactly have the same process, Heizou can tell from watching how Aether’s mind works, but he is nevertheless sharp and perceptive. He should already know that Heizou is absolutely smitten with him. It should be clear as day with how Heizou introduces him as his partner when he is notorious for not accepting any. How he trusts him with his deepest secrets, be it about a cold case or simply his past. How he keeps coming back to him - even when he desperately wants to stay away, because he knows he can never be the only one for Aether, and sometimes it is too much. 

Heizou loves him way too much. 

That’s why he is struck by a simple spoken fact. It matters little that he knows Aether loves him - the sound of it erupts in his ribcage like a flower that waited too long to bloom in the spring and burst in the summer. Even the way it is spoken solidifies that fact - casual, like Aether has said it hundreds of times before. Natural. Real.  

Lips brush against his cheek, a little too close to his eyes than usual, and that’s when he realizes-

“I did not think this was such dreadful news,” Aether jokes into his ear, melody subdued yet still evident in the lower volume of his voice. He continues kissing Heizou’s face like he intends to clear his tears with his lips, and Heizou makes a feeble attempt to push him away. Nevermind his laughter giving away his indisposition to actually stop Aether. 

“I simply feel bad for everyone else,” Heizou says, slurring with intentional nonchalance. “The abolisher of the vision hunt decree, the golden traveler desired by all… lovestruck by little old me.” 

“My, I didn’t realize you were so compassionate for others, doushin,” Aether teases. “Do you wish to set up a charity? Five minutes of some traveler’s love, courtesy of the Tenryou Commission’s own prodigal detective?”

This should be a sore subject. They should not be joking about this. Somehow, the jealousy it ignites in Heizou’s veins is no longer destructive, burning everything in its path - it’s oddly comforting, and dare Heizou say, fun. He is always going to be at least a little possessive, but now, there is acceptance that comes with it, and with it, respect. 

“Not compassionate enough, I’m afraid.” Humming, Heizou wiggles out of Aether’s hold until he can turn around and climb on his lap, knees at either side of the traveler’s hips. He cradles Aether’s face with both of his hands, and Aether leans into the touch. “I would keep you all to myself if I could, watch the world weep with you in my arms.” 

Aether doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t seem disturbed, either. He simply looks up to Heizou, a small, patient smile on his lips. 

The Traveler may have many lovers, and he may not love Heizou the way he loves them - but he will not love any of them the way he loves Heizou, either. 

His vindication is in knowing Aether also loves Heizou way too much. 

“Alas, I am but a humble detective,” Heizou whispers, smiling back at Aether’s amused smirk at the blatantly false adjective. “Who am I to stake claim on the hero of Teyvat?” 

“Only the cyclone that strikes fear in the heart of crooks all over Inazuma,” Aether retorts with a lazy ease. 

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Traveler.” 

“As long as it’s with you, detective.” 

Heizou’s heart flutters at the assertion. Is that not what anyone should want to be for a wanderer? Not someone that anchors them to the ground, but a companion they wish to keep around and share experience with. He has no reason to doubt the sincerity of that little remark, either. Despite the flirty back-and-forth their conversations tend to devolve into, Aether is not one to say things for the sake of having said them - he either speaks the truth or speaks not at all. 

It is only fair if Heizou returns the favor. 

“I love you,” he says, watching Aether’s eyes widen, lips parted with a short gasp. Heizou allows himself to appreciate the sight for a moment, to observe the surprise fading to be replaced by a softness clouding the traveler’s gaze, before circling his arms around Aether’s shoulders and dipping down for a kiss. 

Aether, as usual, is perfectly responsive - rarely initiating, but always retaliating at full force. He spreads his palm on the small of Heizou’s back, and slowly drags it up his spine, sending jolts through the thin fabric of his shirt. Heizou runs a hand through Aether’s hair, pulling at his scalp until some of the long strands start breaking free from Aether’s braid, which has the traveler huff into Heizou’s lips in frustration. Heizou simply laughs, a small, silent thing, a secret buried in the breath flowing between one another, before he kisses him again. It’s not apologetic, but from the way Aether presses further into his space, it clearly gets him forgiven, and Heizou keeps messing up Aether’s hairdo without undoing the whole thing with dignity. 

He doesn’t realize Aether’s insistence has him gradually pushed down until his back hits the mattress. Aether catches himself in time, first a hand and then an elbow next to Heizou’s ear. With the traveler hovering over him like this, Heizou can see the number he’s done on him: lips already swollen, eyes hooded yet teary, long hair sticking out everywhere, and braid a bit loose with all the volume it has lost. 

“My, my, traveler,” Heizou teases, raising his fingers so that he can trace Aether’s swollen lips. “How sentimental, getting worked up over a mere confession like that.” 

“It is no mere confession,” Aether responds, frowning, but he just can’t convey indignance. Not right now. 

“You started it.” 

“I didn’t expect you to return it.” 

“That’s a pitiful shortcoming on your part, my dear partner.” Heizou exaggerates a sigh. “I am almost disappointed.” 

“Well…” Aether breathes out, long and dare Heizou say, concerning, before he meets Heizou’s eyes again. “I suppose I didn’t have a certain detective around to keep me on my toes.” 

Heizou gulps. “Oh, Aether…” 

“Just… don’t tell me to stay away from you again. Please.” 

After everything, Heizou still can’t tell Aether that mere sight of him was enough to have him regret the break-up immediately. That he selfishly held onto the grudge, because he prided himself on it. That even when he found Aether unconscious in the Test of Courage, he was stubborn, until working together again broke Heizou’s strategically constructed dams one after another. 

Until he realized sharing him is, always, the better alternative than losing him. 

“I love you,” Heizou says again, instead, and revels in the way Aether leans down on him, stray blond strands falling on his face like a golden curtain. And he kisses him, slow and tender, yet exploring deeper the more he presses down Heizou’s body with his own. 

Clothes are discarded - not all of them, they have so many accessories and so little patience, but Heizou unclasps Aether’s cape who in turn gets rid of Heizou’s shirt, barely ridding themselves of pants before meeting each other again. Calling it not sex but making love is extremely cheesy, but man alive, there is a distinction. Heizou has been around the block quite a few times, whether it’s to relieve some stress or go the distance with an attractive stranger that guards precious information. Still, sex is always the best when love is a factor, even when uglier emotions are involved. Anger? Jealousy? Betrayal? As long as love is there, tainted it might be, intimacy beats the best of casual sex.

Perhaps Heizou is more of a romantic than he likes to pretend. 

Oh, well. What are you gonna do?

He throws his head back and chants Aether’s name like a prayer - hell, it’s not like he’s ever cared much about archons, anyway. As his neck arches, Aether catches his choker with a finger, biting down at the sensitive skin that blends into his shoulder because apparently Heizou isn’t being loud enough for him.

Heizou takes his revenge by rolling both of them out of the bed with one swift move. His family probably didn’t intend him to use their clan’s martial art prowess for such matters but tough luck. As he rides Aether out of his mind, he shoves his digits into the traveler’s mouth, just to add to the mess beneath him - just because he can. 

No one else can have this. No one can have him like this. Something similar, yes, obviously, quite often in fact - but it will never be the same. The love Aether has for Heizou is only for Heizou. 

“Say it again,” he commands, breathless - only for Aether to make an incoherent noise around his fingers, and despite himself, Heizou snorts. 

Aether chokes, something akin to a laugh. Heizou pulls his hand away, chuckling along. Maybe he’s ruined the mood a little. So what? This is what they do. Flirt a little, fuck a little, laugh a little. Repeat, a little differently, but with certainty.

That’s what makes it special. 

“You’re free,” Heizou manages, gagged around the amusement and his edging orgasm. “So say it again, now.” 

“I love you.” 

And that’s all he needs from his beloved partner. 

#inline links still dont show up in tags probably but imma try #heither #aehei #genshin impact #fic #alex has typed

[house-of-crows]

In which I am Chastened

I don't want to do this, was the first thought in my head when I felt the PULL. It was like a weird hook in my solar plexus yanking me in the direction of the kitchen. This is ridiculous, it's Pop Paganism, it goes against everything I do, my modus operandi, my academic studies- All the time and effort I put into being Historically Accurate, reconstructing how folk at home would actually pray, stand, kneel IF they knelt-

I felt more than saw Their stare. Arms crossed, gaze level. The Look I haven't seen since I disappointed Him/Them so many years ago. Inwardly I was cringing, knowing exactly how this was going to play and not wanting to walk that road. But it was already laid before me.

But... it's...

When you cringe...? came the question. A rumble of thunder. A lion's roar.

Do not kill the part of you that is cringe, kill the part of you that cringes, I recited dutifully, with a glare over my own shoulder at the statue that almost appeared to be smiling smugly down at me from Her place of pride.

FINE.

I flipped through my music first, knowing I would need a respite from the D&D game happening in the other room. That rankled as much as anything. But... needs must, and I do not get to control my space. Things happen when they are meant to happen, or not at all, all too often and this was important.

I want a 99C sponge. Their voice was implacable. Almost cold. Not angry just... cold. There, like a stone in the road.

Okay. It is still 103F without the heat index. I do not have much wiggle room on my card, and I don't think I could manage to haul my bike up and down 6 flights of stairs and make the 3 mile ride round trip and still finish the task.

I stole a look at the cabinets and suddenly the push from yesterday to order more baking supplies hit me like a truck. I followed through then- I had vanilla; GOOD vanilla since my usual brand was out of stock; I had new sugar, I had eggs... I had frozen strawberries. With a wince, I exhaled, and asked if it was an acceptable substitute.

You will make this with your own hands? Sacrifice your time, your energy, your closely-hoarded "spoons" of energy that you meant to spend on other tasks...? You will exchange the completion of this task for another? The tone was considering, His gaze still level, but a little warmer. Like sheets of ice and snow falling from a cliff into the Fjords when the sun hits them in the spring. I felt more than saw the smile, a gentle warming touch to my shoulder. It is enough. Continue. I don't have whipped cream, I muttered to myself, considering what lay in the fridge. He smirked. Isn't the TRADITIONAL offering honeycakes? You have honey yogurt. Give me that.

~*~

I left the music playing and went to the computer, looked up recipes. Most called for so many ingredients in such large measures I knew that I would never complete them, let alone be abel to consume them. And the point of the exercise is not needlessly wasting food. The point was to make it, offer part, and consume the rest myself. Sharing a moment, time and energy, and thoughtful process with a God. Repairing a bridge I had unwittingly burned behind me 9 years ago, almost to the day. The significance was not lost on me.

The Nth wave travels furthest up the beach...? came the gentle-mocking voice and I nodded.

"The price is not the same as the cost. The symbol is not the thing it represents. The seventh wave travels furthest up the beach."

Anxiety is a deity that does not answer prayers. He answered, and waved towards the ingredients laid out on the stovetop. It is the 9th wave this time, but no matter. Continue.

~*~

There was a prickle in the corner of my eyes when I paused to take a picture. Breathe. Ground myself. I had found a mug cake recipe that was deemed acceptable, I had all the ingredients for it. So, I took down a mug and began the process.

Not-quite losing myself in the process. My logical brain demanding to have proof of the moment. Proof of the process. I measured everything, checked the recipes over and over again to make sure nothing was left too long-

When I got to the point of adding the flour the tears were in full affect. It didn't fit. There was too much, despite measuring so carefully.... I poured everything into a bowl and soldiered on.

Didn't you have something for this eventuality...? The tone was that ever-gentle mockery of my hang-ups, my assumptions about the way the world, magic, GODS worked. But He was right just the same. I DID. And... wonder of wonders, the amount of batter perfectly filled both. A minor miracle.

The recipe said to fill them half full... they were perfectly filled. I baked them with a feeling of trepidation, respect, and shaking hands. What if they exploded? What if they cracked down the middle? What if-

Do you think I only accept perfect things? Knowing where this began, knowing what you Know, having seen what you have Seen? You doubt, now? He had a point. I took another deep breath, and waited for them to be done.

When the timer beeped and I slid them onto the counter, I was shocked by how golden and perfect they looked. Turned each out onto its own plate, whipped up the yogurt as much as I could, and plated them with care. More to soothe my spirit than out of genuine fear, but such is life.

I was almost too afraid to look at it, then. So I took my time cutting His, dividing it until it sat perfectly on the offering plate, the same exact mini ceramic bowls I use for my regular pantheon. Moved a tiny dish aside, and put His there right beside Their libations of wine, and water, perfumes, and incense grounds.

I re-lit the candle, and stood there, quietly, watching it flicker.

"I didn't have to wait 9 years to fix this," I muttered, rebellious. "You could have told me, you know." Nine years from your discovery that you could disappoint the gods, nine years from your discovery that you could talk to them, walk the Dreaming as you walked the Grey- Nine years of study, mistakes, penances, trial & error, and dogged pursuit of your self-betterment... and you didn't realize that til now? The gentle mocking tone was replaced with what felt like genuine pity. You stand there, cloaked and protected, with weapons in your hands and inked into your skin, God-touched, and think I needed to tell you? Truly?

"No. Not truly. I should have known and approached you to apologize much sooner than now. I should have known better, and I should have pursued it years ago. I was a child then, and I should have listened when my mentors told me you would not unduly punish a child; whether of age or inexperience.

I should have reached out then, the gate was open. But I was wrapped up in pursuit of the Morrigan. I did not truly believe I could make amends. Not to a god. Not to you."

For not recognizing a god you had never seen before, in an unfamiliar place, before you had built your Dreamscape, your personal lexicon. Before you had studied. Before you knew... anything, really. Newly awake, newly out of a horrible situation, and newly listening... it was a test, yes. But not so great a one as you thought.

I was seeing if you would pursue. If you would learn the lesson, and try again anyway.

"I am here now."

And are you willing to try....?

~*~

Well. That's the question now, isn't it?

Happy September 4/5th. Happy Spongecakegate.

I have a lot to think about..

#Loki #Spongecakegate #The Seventh Wave #The Seventh Wave Travels Furthest Up The Beach #greywalker problems #Dreaming #Greywalking #personal pantheon #In Which I Am Chastened #Pop Paganism #Pop Culture Paganism #Witchcraft #Speaking With The Gods #Beaches to Waves #Freedom and Not Peace #The Morrigan #Sayings #Anxiety is a Deity that Does Not Answer Prayers