#wanted to do something for the starter of a new generation!!!

[parkerslatte]

Overlooked | Epilogue

Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: minor injury of child. smut.

Summary: Nearly ten years after their wedding, Y/N and Eris spend time with their own small family.

Overlooked Masterlist

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Epilogue

•••

The sun was high in the sky and Y/N was wearing a thin dress, keeping as much heat from her body as possible. It was a lovely day and Y/N had forced her family out into the garden of their small cottage. Eris had moved himself and Y/N there not long after their wedding. Their room at the palace was beautiful but both Y/N and Eris wanted something that was wholly theirs. Despite being High Lord and High Lady of Autumn, they both wanted to separate their duties from their family. 

Y/N walked across the vast grass area of their garden with a book in hand. She did not know where Eris and their children were. They disappeared a while ago and Y/N couldn’t even hear them. The large tree at the edge of their garden was surrounded by an array of flowers. Y/N smiled and settled herself down in front of the tree, resting her back against the bark. 

Just as Y/N cracked open the spine to her book, loud shrieks of happiness were heard interrupting Y/N from her peaceful bubble. Y/N looked up just as her two children ran into her vision. Eris ran after them, a flower crown on top of his head. Y/N smiled fondly, already knowing that it was their daughter’s doing. 

Eris chased their son and daughter around the garden before sweeping them both up into his arms, laughing at their giggles of delight. The love Y/N sent down the bond to Eris made him look up at her, a crooked smile on his face. Eris placed their two children back on the ground and they immediately began to run around the garden once again. Instead of Eris chasing after them, he walked directly to Y/N. 

“Sporting a new look?” Y/N questioned, glancing at the flower crown on top of his head. 

Eris smiled and sat down next to Y/N on the grass, pulling her body to his. He wore a simple white tunic and trousers, a lot more relaxed than Y/N had seen him in the previous weeks dealing with some difficult court officials. 

“I was thinking of replacing my own crown with this one,” Eris said, kissing the top of Y/N’s head.

Y/N smiled. “It suits you.”

Eris scoffed. “Of course it does. It was made especially for me.”

As Eris shuffled against the tree, Y/N noticed him discreetly wipe the sweat from his forehead, breathing slightly heavy. Y/N smiled playfully. “How can you be tired after chasing your own children, Mister Former General of the Autumn Court?”

Eris rolled his eyes. “For starters, have you felt the heat? And secondly, those little monsters have too much energy then they know what to do with.”

“Your powers are literal fire? How can you find it warm?” she teased, “And you could have sat out,” Y/N replied, knowing that Eris would never deny his children anything. 

When Y/N first told Eris she was pregnant with their first child, their daughter, six years ago, he had a lot of fears about being a father. Those fears stemmed from his father. Eris would stay up all night telling Y/N that he was going to end up just like him. And in those first few months, the more Eris began to distance himself from Y/N. It was the first time since they met that he did anything of the sort. But soon enough, Y/N managed to coax him out of his own head. She even enlisted the help of her sister, Feyre. 

It had been a few years since their relationship had been repaired. When Y/N approached Feyre in asking for a favour, her youngest sister was more than happy to oblige. When Y/N returned to her home in the Autumn Court, her nephew and niece, who was just a year old, Eris had a lot to say. 

“What is this, Y/N?” he asked.

“You have fears about becoming your father,” Y/N said, passing her niece to Eris. “Well, this is the perfect way to prove to you that you aren’t. Feyre and Rhysand are having a small holiday on the continent. She asked me to look after the kids.”

“She asked you, or you kidnapped them from their home. Doesn’t your other sister live in the Night Court?”

“Nesta and Cassian are busy with their own family,” Y/N answered. “And Elain is busy travelling with Lucien right now, so I was the last option.”

“Uncle Eris!” Nyx yelled and hugged him around the waist. 

Nyx had always liked Eris, to Rhysand’s dismay, and was always excited to see him whenever he visited Autumn or he visited Night. 

“Well, Mariana and I are going out for the day,” Y/N said and picked up her bag. “I will be back after dinner so don’t wait for me.”

“Wait!” Eris exclaimed. “Y/N–”

Y/N left him alone with the two children. 

When Y/N returned that night, she found Eris asleep on the settee in their living room. Her niece asleep on his chest and Nyx sleeping soundly next to him. It was all the proof Y/N needed for him.

And it was all the proof Eris needed too, as after that night, everything seemed to change. He seemed to be more excited about having a child.

“I will never deny my children anything,” Eris said, capturing Y/N’s attention once more. “I don’t care if I spoil them.” Eris fondly watched his son and daughter play in the garden. “All I want to do is give them the childhood I never had.”

Y/N smiled and kissed his cheek. “You have already been doing that since they were born. They adore you, Eris.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” Eris said, his gaze turning to her. “For giving me our children and proving to me that I am nothing like my father.”

“You don’t need to thank me for something you prove yourself everyday,” Y/N said and pecked his lips. “But you're welcome anyway. Because I know you will only keep insisting until I say it.”

Eris smiled and pressed his lips firmly against hers, his hand cupping her face. Y/N rested her hand on his chest and smiled into the kiss. Every single time she kissed Eris, she felt giddy and light. His kisses always had that effect on her and Y/N was afraid that one day that feeling would fade. 

As Eris softly began to kiss across her jaw, loud cries were heard from their younger son. Eris and Y/N sprang apart and were up on their feet, running in the direction of the cries. 

“Mummy, Daddy, Octavian fell and scraped his knee,” their daughter, Arella, said and clutched onto Y/N’a hand. Eris scooped his son into his arms and together the family walked back into the cottage. 

“Is he going to be okay?” Arella asked, tears in her eyes.

Y/N bent down to match her height. “Of course he is, sweetheart. It is only a scratch and he will be running around again in no time.”

Arella was always a sensitive girl, with her own emotions and other people’s. If someone was hurting around her, so was she.

“Can I sit with him?” Arella asked.

“Of course,” Y/N said, holding onto her daughter’s hand. 

Together they walked into the dining room. Octavian was sitting on the table while Eris cleaned away the cuts and scrapes on his knees. 

“Ow!” Octavian exclaimed, flinching as Eris wiped at the injury. 

“I’m sorry,” Eris muttered, distress evident in his voice. “It will be over in just a second, I promise.”

Arella stood next to Eris and Y/N lingered by the doorway, simply watching her family with a hand resting on her stomach. She was not sure how her heart was big enough for three people, but it needed to expand for a fourth many months down the line. 

“All done,” Eris said and pressed a kiss to the top of his son’s head.

“I’m tired,” Octavian muttered.

“Me too,” Arella said. 

Eris only nodded and picked Octavian up in his arms before bending down to lift Arella up too. Y/N smiled at the care Eris had in his movements. Both of their children were almost a perfect replica of him, the only exception being their eyes. Instead of inheriting Eris’s amber eyes, they both inherited Y/N’s colour. But everything else about them screamed Eris. To their red hair to the freckles scattered around their faces. Y/N couldn’t ask for more perfect children. 

“Mummy, come with us,” Arella said. 

“I was planning on it,” Y/N said and followed as Eris walked into Octavian’s room first, placing him gently down in the bed. 

“Get some rest, okay?” Y/N said to her son, brushing his hair away from his eyes. 

“Okay, Mummy,” Octavian said. “But more play after.”

Both Y/N and Eris chuckled quietly at their son, whose eyes were already beginning to droop. “More play after.”

Once Octavian’s breathing became heavier and he was asleep, Y/N and Eris both exited his bedroom and entered Arella’s. Who was already fast asleep with her head on Eris’s shoulder. Eris gently lowered her down onto the bed and tucked the thin blanket over her body. It was still quite warm and he didn’t want his daughter to overheat. 

“How has she grown this big already?” Eris asked, looking down at Arella sleeping soundly. “Everything is going too fast.”

Y/N wrapped her arms around him from behind. “I know, I hate it. Even looking at Octavian, I think he is growing too fast. I swear he only began to walk yesterday.”

“Let’s go back to our room,” Eris whispered. “I am quite tired myself.”

The two entered their own bedroom, it was by no means grand. But it was cosy and just what they both wanted to get away from court for a while. Eris sat on the bed and pulled Y/N toward him until she straddled his hips. Before she could say anything, his lips were pressed against hers, continuing what they started in the garden. Y/N sighed and melted into him, her arms lazily resting around his neck. 

“Have I told you that I love you today?” Eris pulled away to mumble against her lips. 

Y/N hummed. “Only when we woke up. When we had breakfast. Just before we went outside to the garden.”

Eris smiled and gently squeezed her hips. “I love you.”

“And just now,” Y/N finished.

“I don’t tell you enough,” Eris said.

“I’m sure you tell me more than enough,” Y/N said. “It makes up over seventy percent of your vocabulary.”

Eris rolled his eyes and kissed her, pulling her down to the bed with him. “I don’t know how I got so lucky to end up with you. Out of all the males on the planet, you ended up being my mate and later my wife. And you gave me two beautiful children who literally light up my world.”

“Three,” Y/N corrected.

Eris furrowed his eyebrows, “What?”

“Three beautiful children,” Y/N confessed.

“No,” Eris said. “You’re not…?

“I am,” Y/N said. “I had it confirmed a few days ago.”

“I would be able to smell the shift in scent,” said Eris.

“There is a tonic I have been taking which hides the smell of a pregnancy,” Y/N said. “I knew that you would be able to tell straight away and I wanted to surprise you. I had a big thing planned, but it just felt right to tell you now.”

“So we are having another child?” Eris asked.

“Yes, my love. We are having another child,” Y/N answered.

The smile on Eris’s face is one of pure happiness and joy. “Oh, my love!” he exclaimed and plants his lips on hers, kissing all across her face and jaw before nuzzling his head into her neck. “You have made me the happiest male in the whole of prythian.”

“You had a part in it too,” Y/N said, rolling off him to lay beside him. Eris pulled her body to his. 

“I don’t care!” Eris said, kissing her lips. “We are having another child!”

“Shhhh,” Y/N laughed at his excitement. “We can still use the surprise I planned on Arella and Octavian.”

“They are both sleeping like the dead. I am sure nothing will wake them,” Eris said. 

Y/N looked into his eyes and saw the mischievous glint in them. “And what are you suggesting, Eris Vanserra?”

Eris shook his head, playing innocent. “I am suggesting absolutely nothing.”

As he spoke, he rolled so he was hovering above Y/N. Her legs instantly wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to her. Eris grinned wickedly and covered her lips with his own, devouring her like a starving man. They had not been able to be intimate for the past few weeks, every single time they tried, their children would always need them at that exact moment. Y/N craved him more than anything. 

The feeling of Eris touching her body was one that always took her by surprise. How well he knew her to elicit those small sounds of pleasure from her. Y/N wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, begging him to touch her. 

As soon as their clothes were thrown onto the floor, Y/N pressed her body firmly against Eris’s, feeling every part of him. It had been too long since she had time to savour the touch. Quick bouts of pleasure was all they could afford for the past few weeks. Now that their children were fast asleep, Y/N could savour everything Eris had to offer. 

“You are the most beautiful being in the universe,” Eris muttered against her lips as he slowly entered her. 

Y/N gasped as she gripped onto his shoulders. He always filled her so perfectly. “Look who’s talking,” Y/N muttered as she threaded her fingers in his hair. 

As Eris began to thrust, he kissed every part of her body he could reach. He always worshipped her. Always made sure to make her feel loved. Between each kiss and thrust he whispered words of affection that would be seared in Y/N’s brain for all eternity, the whispers of the words would be remembered every night when she went to sleep. 

“Eris,” Y/N panted as he sped up. “I need more.”

Eris’s forehead rested against hers as his thrusts sped up once more. He buried his head into her neck, no doubt leaving marks across her shoulder. Y/N couldn’t find it within herself to care as she lost herself within the pleasure. Shamelessly she moaned out loud, not not even trying to keep quiet. That coil within her was beginning to unfurl. 

“You are perfect,” Eris panted against her skin. “So perfect. You were made for me.”

“Just for you…” Y/N replied, pulling on the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Y/N,” Eris groaned as he spilled inside her. 

The feeling of Eris filling her up pushed Y/N over that edge and she moaned loud as she came, chanting Eris’s name. 

“My love,” Eris said as he slowly pulled out of her and onto the bed next to her, “you are always so perfect.”

Y/N laughed, slightly breathless. “In your eyes, is there anything about me that isn’t perfect?”

“There is absolutely nothing.”

“There has to be one thing,” Y/N insisted.

“There is not one thing about you that is not perfect– actually there is one thing. Your ability to bake, that is definitely not one of your talents,” Eris admitted.

Y/N gasped. “You said you loved the cake I made for Arella’s birthday.”

“That is because it wasn’t the cake you made,” Eris chuckled. “I brought Octavian with me to the bakery in town where I replaced yours with one that looked exactly like it.”

Y/N pushed Eris away playfully. “You diabolical male!”

Eris laughed and the sound was music to Y/N’s ears. She always enjoyed when he laughed, even if it was at her expense. 

“I’m sorry, but it was just…not good,” Eris said, still laughing. 

Y/N smiled. “Just for that, I am going to take a bath by myself.”

Before Y/N had the chance to climb out of the bed, Eris wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest. “You are not going anywhere.”

Eris caressed her body gently, allowing her a chance to leave if she wanted to. But the moment his arms wrapped around her, Y/N melted into him. It was one of her many weaknesses when it came to Eris. The two continued to lay there in silence, the only sounds coming from the occasional bird chirp through the window. 

“Thank you,” Eris mumbled against the top of her head, “for giving me the most perfect life.”

“What did I tell you about thanking me?” Y/N replied. 

Eris rolled his eyes. “I know but genuinely thank you Y/N.”

Y/N sighed. “I should be thanking you. Before that night, I hated my life. My sisters didn’t seem to care about me anymore, I had no friends, I was simply…trapped. I wasn’t living the life I wanted to live. But you, Eris, gave me the opportunity to have the life I always dreamt of. I found you, the literal other half of my soul and without you, we wouldn’t have two beautiful children and another one on the way. I wouldn’t have this life if it wasn’t for you allowing me to stay that night. This whole life we live is because you allowed me to stay that night.”

Y/N shuffled her position so she was laying face to face with Eris. “So thank you, Eris. Thank you for giving me a home and thank you for seeing me when no one else did.” 

The look of pure love on Eris’ face was one Y/N wished to have imprinted on her brain forever. The look was so tender and adoring. Y/N was sure she shared a similar expression on her face. 

Eris caressed her face. “I love you so much.”

“I am happy to hear that, otherwise what we just did not long ago would be quite awkward,” Y/N jokes, causing Eris to let out a breathy laugh. “But I love you too, Eris. I never thought I could have so much love for someone before. But for you, for Arella, for Octaivan and for our next child. I love all of you so much.”

Eris pressed his lips against Y/N’s, his fingers tangled in her hair and Y/N sighed in delight when he scratched her scalp. Y/N only pulled away to whisper something against Eris’s lips.

“You are perfect, Eris.”

“And so are you, Y/N,” Eris whispered against her lips. “The most perfect female to ever exist.”

Y/N only kissed him again.

#acotar x reader #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #eris vanserra x y/n #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra fluff #high lord eris #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra

[ofgentleresolve]

@theimpalpable asked for the left hand!

“What are you looking at?” Or so Ga-ram grumbles, the blood trickling from their arm and downwards. Which would be a logical result of say, punching one’s hand through a glass window. Hindsight tells them it was a terrible way of getting the anger out, but Ga-ram would say it felt good in the moment. That’s why they did it.

Crouching down ( which is terrible for their head, but the dizziness there is pretty normal these days anyways ), they inspect the collection of glass shards on the ground. Huh, they should go clean that up; he looks up at the stranger again. “There’s nothing to see here; go on.”

#theimpalpable #( verse: spades released. ) #( ga ram. ) #worlds that are drawn to each other ( interactions. ) #ANNNNDD here's the other starter i owe you <3 #i kept it kind of generic bc i wasn't sure which one you wanted it for #i was thinking about hae geon or boram....but it's really and truly up to you!! #however..i WOULD?? love to maybe plot something for ga ram and hae geon since you DID say hae geon could fit into a dystopian world #👀👀👀 not me also being like about new dynamics with you!! new dynamics with alex?? ALWAYS :D #anyways!! do let me know if i should change anything alex and i will do so happily <3 #and have a wonderful day as well alex my dear friend <3

[samkerrworshipper]

exhausted | barca femeni/alexia putellas x reader

reader has insomnia… but doesn’t tell her teammates alexia begins to figure it out though

was gonna make yall wait till tomorrow butttt i rlly can’t fucked lol

Sleep is something that has never come easy to you.

No matter how hard you try, no matter how much melatonin or herbal teas or meditation you tried, none of it worked.

You, quite simply, could not sleep.

It was fine when you were just a student, when you could dip out of your morning classes or sneak in a nap here and there between classes, when you didn’t have to make it through full days of work.

It was fine when you were playing for London City, when nobody cared about what you were doing, only if you could stop other players from getting past.

It had all changed though when the Barca offer had come in though.

It was known to every single footballer in the women's league that Barca had major injury problems, specifically in their backline, injuries that wouldn’t be resolved until long after the season was over.

You’d never thought though that some absences in Barcelona’s star squad would crate an opportunity for you, but for whatever reason, the Barca selectors had seen something in you, and even though it was mid season, had been desperate to sign you, it was a big move to go from England to Spain, but one you were more than happy to make for the sake of your career.

You’d never thought that the move from home would be so much more detrimental to your sleep schedule, but slowly you’d found yourself becoming more exhausted as you struggled to keep up with your new life.

There were a lot of things that were different about Spain, or more specifically the Barcelona Women’s team. When you were playing in London, training every couple of days and playing once a week, you could afford to miss some hours of sleep during the night, especially considering that nobody in London was concerned about making school a priority over there. You could take some naps during the day, laze around as much as you wanted and go to school whenever you could be bothered.

Barca was different, and not in a good way.

It was good for your football, internationally and just in general. Before Barca, you’d been more of a bench player then a starter for the England under 17s, but your game had lifted and you’d been a consistent starter in every tournament and friendly since.

You were exhausted, more than you’d ever been in your entire life, and you were sure it was starting to show.

It was hard enough being 16, in a foreign country, getting hardly any hours of sleep, training at least three hours a day as well as gym sessions and playing twice a week. Trying to be a full time student as well, it was completely unrealistic and it was starting to show.

“Nena, do you want to slow down on the energy drinks? Someone so itty bitty and young like you shouldn’t be consuming any caffeine, let alone two red bulls before noon, we’re lucky you aren’t pinging off the walls yet.”

Mapi’s hands are on your cheeks, pinching and squeezing them as if you are a baby. Instead of paying her any kind of attention you keep your eyes fixed on your laptop screen and lips pressed to the can of red bull that you’ve been tirelessly sipping at for the past couple of minutes.

Integrating into the team had been hard, but you’d actually become far closer with the crew of injured girls, mapi specifically, as well as her girlfriend Ingrid. Frido had also been one of the first people to welcome you, accompanied by two familiar English faces, Keira and Lucy.

Mapi particularly, had taken you under her wing, or had sort of adopted you in an older sister type fashion. It was sort of annoying, the older Spaniard was constantly talking, to the point where you’d learn to pretty much drown out everything that left her lips.

“If you keep touching my face then it won’t just be your knee that’ll be injured, your hands will be broken as well.”

Mapi frowns at you, her pinching fingers moving to brush loose hair from your face and rub at your temples, trying to rub away the frown lines deeply ingrained on your forehead.

“Wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning did we, nena? You know you’ll get wrinkles if you keep frowning like that, it’s not good for your little baby face.”

You shake your head in an attempt to get Mapi’s hands off of your face, it partially works, but not fully.

“María I am serious, you’ve got three seconds before I tear this can in half and use it to cut off your fingers, don’t you have rehab to do or something more entertaining than bothering me?”

Mapi’s hands fly up in surrender, something you are infinitely grateful for.

“Fine, you want to be grumpy then you can be grumpy by yourself, don’t come looking for me later when you’re bored of school and looking for some fun.”

You don’t bat an eyelid as Mapi retreats from your table.

You take another sip of your drink, praying that it’ll somehow make it easier for you to read the words on your laptop screen, even though it does absolutely nothing.

You’ve read the same page, over and over again and yet it’s done absolutely nothing to make you understand what it is you are supposed to be learning. It’s a mess of consonants and verbs, jumbled up words that just can’t seem to resonate in your brain.

Whilst Mapi has left, unbeknownst to you, you aren’t completely alone in the recovery room.

Alexia has been sitting on one of the massage tables, doing her exercises for the last hour, watching as you’ve gradually been getting far more frustrated with your work.

Alexia’s relationship with you so far has been… rocky.

The captain had made it clear from day one that whilst the club needed you, that your studies were going to be a priority alongside football. If you had known that you’d be going from doing as much school as you liked, to hours of online school everyday, you probably would have reconsidered your move to Spain, but you were here now and struggling more than you cared to admit.

Alexia knew something was up, beyond your clear hatred for school, she just wasn’t sure what yet but she was determined to find out why.

“Everything alright pequena?”

You practically jump at the sound of Alexia’s voice, hand clutching at your heart as you suddenly become aware of a presence in the room that you were unaware existed.

“Perfectly fine.”

You do well to recover from the shock, your eyes darting straight back to your screen almost as quickly as they had left it.

“You’ve been staring at the same page for the last twenty minutes.”

Alexia notices that your hands are shaking slightly, most likely due to the insane amounts of taurine that your body is processing.

“There’s a lot of writing on one page.”

You take another sip, finishing off the can and sliding it across the table.

“Mapi’s right, it’s not good for pequena’s like you to be drinking stuff like that, it’s bad for your brain cells, and don’t get me started on what it does to your body.”

Alexia moves to take a seat beside you at the table, her concern for you growing even more when she took a look at your face and realised how exhausted you looked.

“I don’t need the lecture, I’m poisoning my body, I’m aware of it, now can I please have slime peace so I can finish this off before training starts?”

Alexia isn’t anywhere near satisfied with your answer, she wants you to argue with her, not admit your wrongdoing like it’s nothing.

“Yes, you are, you aren’t an adult, you don’t need energy drinks, you will do perfectly fine without them.”

Your eyes leave the screen to look at Alexia for a second, a little exhale huffing out between your lips.

“Okay, whatever.”

Alexia can’t get past just how tired you look, so tired that you’re seemingly agreeing with her just to avoid conflict.

“Pequena, how about you take a break for a couple of minutes, go get some fresh air, I’m sure you can finish this up later.”

Alexia’s never let you finish school early, you don’t understand why she’s deciding to today.

“I need to get it done.”

Your body is so tense, Alexia’s scared that you’re going to pull a muscle just from how tight your body looks.

“I’m sure it can wait till later, you’ve been sitting here for two hours now, you need a break.”

Your hands are still shaking, and you’re as hunched over as possible without being asleep on top of your laptop.

“Alexia, I’m fine, I’ve just got to finish this and then I’ll be done.”

Alexia’s hand reaches up to meet your shaking one, somehow hoping that it’ll stop the frantic tremors.

“You’re taking a break, just go and spend some time in the team room, or go for a walk, just take fifteen minutes and I’ll next you when you need to be back. Go, now, I’m not asking.”

You slam your laptop closed with more aggression then Alexia’s seen from you all morning, your body dragging itself out of the room without any regards for your captain whatsoever.

Alexia begins to get worried when twenty minutes later, after multiple text messages, you are yet to return.

She knows you’re stressed, that school isn’t what you want to be focusing all of your energy on. But Alexia knows from personal experience how easy it is for somebody of your age with your kind of talent to disregard things like education, something that she believes is so crucial to any adult's life. You need options, Alexia is trying to give you them, even if you seem to hate them with every single fibre in your body.

Alexia decides to go looking for you once twenty five minutes have passed and you are nowhere in sight and have ignored every single one of her messages.

It doesn’t take her long to find you, although she does almost miss you.

Alexia peeks her head into the locker room, simply to ask if anyone has seen you, the room is silent and empty though.

She almost leaves, but just as she’s about to close the door, she spots your body, tucked up inside of your locker, your head tucked into your knees.

You look frightfully unrestful, you don’t look like most people look when they’re sleeping, most people look peaceful, you look bothered, like your body is fighting against the sleep that you so clearly need.

Alexia walks over to you, now more than ever she’s certain you’re sick, that you’ve caught some kind of cold that’s causing this exhaustion and the short tempered mood you’ve been in.

She brings the back of her palm up to your forehead, an action that has your eyes snapping opening immediately.

Alexia’s sort of surprised when she realises you’ve got no fever whatsoever, although she’s well aware that not all sicknesses result in fever, something about it is putting her off.

“Hola pequenita.”

It takes you a few seconds to realise where you are and what’s happening, but as soon as you do you are shaking Alexia’s hand from your face and pushing yourself out of your cube.

“Sorry, time completely slipped past me, I’ll head back now.”

Alexia’s hand grabs your forehand before you have the opportunity to slip past her, tugging you backwards until you’re standing directly in front of your captain, forced to look at her.

“Are you sick?”

Alexia isn’t sure what’s wrong, but it’s clear something is up and sickness is the clearest option. She knows that you are no stranger to energy drinks, she spends most of her time heckling at you to try and put down whatever drink you’ve got in your hands. She’s never seen you down two in such a short amount of time though and sickness would be a good explanation.

“No, I’m fine.”

Alexia can’t find any deceit in your words or mannerisms, it appears that you are being completely honest with her, something that makes Alexia even more confused. None of the tell-tale signs are there, you are telling the truth.

“I know you aren’t a stranger to a midday nap, but it’s unlike you to be so tired.”

Alexia’s arm moves from your forearm up to your face, gently tracing the deep purple bags that are sitting below your eyes. Her thumb is soft, it feels like she’s mending all of the fatigue that lies there, but as soon as her thumb moves it all comes back.

“I’m fine Capí, just stayed up a little bit later last night.”

Alexia can tell that’s a lie, a cover up from whatever it is that you’re hiding from her.

“Well see to it that you get into bed earlier tonight. The team is out on the pitch, I told Jona that you’d join them once finished up with your work that you’d head out but I think you need some fresh air. Better get moving.”

Alexia’s voice is ridged and your body reacts to it, reaching into your locker with more speed then she’s seen you work with all day, you grab your cleats and before Alexia has the chance to speak anymore you are marching out of the rooms and out towards the pitch.

It’s perplexing to Alexia, she hates being lied to, especially when it’s clear something is wrong. She waits in the locker room for a few minutes, trying to piece together the mystery yet she comes up with nothing.

Eventually she makes the decision to go out and watch the training, pitchside, maybe you’ll have perked up now that you’re out doing something you enjoy.

The first thing Alexia notices is how frantically you are playing, it’s unlike you to be sloppy and yet as she watches you it’s all she can observe.

You are sloppy, messy and uncalculated, something that you are normally the opposite of.

You are a technical player, something that has helped you settle into the Barcelona squad with ease, you adjusted to the Spanish way of playing without much fuss.

What Alexia is watching though, you look like a completely different player. You’re practically passing the ball directly to Salma, goal after goal being put through your legs and around your body. It’s embarrassing, and she’s certain other people are picking up on your abnormal behaviour, multiple people, specifically Ingrid coming to check on you and make sure everything is fine.

You shake all of them off, even though it’s clear that something is up and whatever that something is, it’s big and it’s affecting your game and mood majorly.

Alexia’s not surprised when Jona drags you from the field, already yelling at you and sending orders your way, what she is surprised by is the way that you don’t even flinch as he throws never ending criticism your way.

You just stare at him, neither nodding or trying to reply to him, Alexia’s not even sure if you’re hearing him, if you’re present enough to be listening to the words that are leaving his mouth. For a second she considers the possibility that you’re violently hungover or acting under the influence of some kind of substance, it would explain the drowsiness and weird behaviour.

The idea makes Alexia instantly filled with anger, you are 16 and she will take you to the grave if you’ve been touching any kinds of substances. She’s mad enough as it is over the energy drinks, and she’s going to express that when the two of you are in private later on, but the chance that you’ve consumed something illegal for someone of your age, it sends shivers down her spine.

Jona has you back out on the field before you can even begin to respond to his critiques, back into defence where you are brutally humbled time and time again by the likes of Aitana, Salma and Caro.

Alexia cringes every single time, she knows that you are struggling, what she’s completely unprepared for is for you to fully collapse on the field.

Caro volleys another ball over your head and for a second Alexia doesn’t even notice you crumpled up on the ground of the pitch, she’s too busy watching the sight of Caro’s ball perfectly managing to slot in behind Cata. It’s a truly beautiful goal, and truly there isn’t much you could have done about it.

She only notices you when Cata doesn’t turn around to grab the ball, instead, she rushes forwards, leaving the ball long forgotten beside the bottom right post. She’s rushing forwards, down to her knees, directly beside your crumpled up body.

Alexia jumps up from her spot immediately, running faster than she should considering the current state of her knee, it doesn’t matter to her though, seeing your tiny little body all clumped up against the grass terrifies her.

Cata’s smart, and apparently fast acting because before Alexia is sitting down next to you, Cata’s already got her shirt off, drenched it with her drink bottle and has it folded up over your forehead. The cold water seems to bring you back a little bit, your head jerking upwards in reaction to the sudden change of temperature across your skin.

Just as Alexia’s crouching down next to you, the medics are pushing everyone out of the way, kneeling down next to you and doing the same as Cata had done, placing wet towels across your skin. They’re treating it like you’ve got heat stroke and whilst Alexia is aware it’s a warmer day, she knows that whatever is wrong with you, it most definitely isn’t heat stroke.

One of the medics squirts some water onto your face, something that Alexia doesn’t like the look of, but it seems to bring you back awake, your eyes bursting open and blinking furiously as you take in your surroundings.

Alexia can see you panicking immediately, your eyes flashing to the multiple faces that are crowding your vision.

“Everyone take a step back, give her some space.”

The medics and your teammates take a step back, leaving Alexia to skoot herself closer to you. Her hand comes to rest on your face, gently brushing the water residue off.

“Hola nena, stay calm for me, you had a little fall, we’re going to get you inside now, do you think you can get up for me?”

You nod at Alexia, you can’t remember what happened but you don’t want to be on the floor any longer than you have to be.

Alexia helps you up and off the pitch, the medics leading the two of you inside.

Alexia immediately gets you situated on a table, the medics immediately getting their hands all over you.

“Test her heart for me please, and her caffeine and sugar levels. I’ll be right back nena, I’m just going to grab something from my locker, text me if you need anything.”

Alexia is inexplicably angry and she knows that if she spends any more time in a room with you she’s going to yell, or say something that she’s going to regret. If it wasn’t for all the doctors, she probably wouldn’t care but she doesn’t need to air out private situations in front of people who have no business in your private life.

So she stomps her way to the locker room, set on trying to detangle the mess of emotions that has developed deep in her gut ever since this morning.

It’s been longer than this morning, Alexia’s noticed oddities in your behaviour, ever since you’d arrived. The energy drinks, the constant eye bags, power naps whenever you could fit them in. You live by yourself, something that Alexia deeply disapproves of and after today she doesn’t think it should continue on like this. You’d requested your own apartment for two reasons, privacy and because you didn’t want to disturb the private life of your teammates.

Alexia wanted to punch a wall, or throw something. That was all that was running across her mind as she paced back and forth in the locker rooms.

All Alexia could think about was your body, crumpled up on the pitch and she had no idea why and no idea how to help you.

You were sitting in the medical room, by yourself, beside the many doctors and physios who were poking and attaching you to different things.

You were exhausted, you were finding it hard to keep your eyes open. You’d felt the same way all day, hitting the pitch had been too much, too hard, too much energy for your exhausted body.

You wished that you’d feel the same every night when you tried to go to sleep every night, but alas, it felt like as soon as you got into bed, or as soon as you tried to close your eyes sleep just avoided you.

Alexia was probably two laps of the locker room away from throwing her phone at a wall when Mapi walked in, weirded out by the sight of her best friend grinding her feet into the floor as she walked back and forth in the locker rooms.

“Ale?”

Alexia’s pacing doesn’t stop, but she does take a second to look up at María and for some reason the concernedly smiley face of her best friend seems to help the anger bubbling up inside her simmer down slightly.

“Alexia, what’s wrong?”

Alexia’s hands are fidgeting wildly in front of her, her fingers clicking and toying with each other.

“Somethings wrong with Nena, she’s exhausted and frantic and she looks like she hasn’t slept and she’s downing all those energy drinks and maybe they’re getting to her heart? Maybe that’s why she collapsed or maybe she’s sick but somethings wrong and I don’t know what and she collapsed right in front of my eyes.”

Normally, out of the two, Mapi is the one who confides in Alexia the most. Alexia isn’t an openly emotional person and when she is it’s with Olga, because for some reason that woman can get everything and anything out of her. Here though, it’s clear Alexia needs someone to de stress with and Mapi is happy to take up that role.

“It’s just her Alexia, she’s always tired and drinking energy drinks, it’s how the kids these days do it.”

Mapi’s words are supposed to soothe Alexia, honestly they do the complete opposite.

“But she shouldn’t, she’s an athlete, she shouldn’t need them. Mapi, I am telling you, something is seriously wrong, I can feel it. I know she’s always tired, but she looks like she hasn’s slept in weeks and I don’t know why.”

Mapi, for the sake of trying to calm Alexia down, decides that instead of trying to invalidate her worries, it’s best to just try and reason with Ale.

“Ale, how about we go see her, if somethings wrong I’m sure she’d tell us.”

Alexia nods at Mapi, taking the extended arm that her friend gives her and allowing the Zaragozan to lead her back to the physio room she’d previously been in.

When she returns, she’s relieved to see that you look a lot better than how you had on the pitch. There are still grass stains across your face, but you’re less pale than you were before and you’re sipping on a gatorade which somehow makes Alexia feel less guilty about the whole situation.

“Hola pequena.”

Your eyes manage to meet Alexia’s, something that kind of shocks her, considering just how weighed down your eyes seem to be by the deep purple bags underneath your eyes.

“Bon dia.”

Alexia would not call this a good morning, she couldn’t even call it an okay one.

“What’s wrong?”

Alexia’s focus is on the physios, not you, she’s saving you for later.

“Luckily, not a lot. I checked her heart and I couldn’t find any abnormalities, it’s clear that she’s tired, she’s told me she woke up a little bit earlier than normal this morning which paired with the warmer weather and some minor dehydration is probably the main cause. She’ll take today off, rest up, but I can’t find anything that would indicate any serious underlying problems so there isn’t any reason why I would say she couldn’t be back on the pitch tomorrow.”

It’s a positive sign, but not what Alexia wants to hear, she wants something to be wrong, so that she can get to the bottom of whatever is happening to you.

“Good, thank you, do you think you could give us the room for a couple of minutes, por favor?”

The physio smiles at Alexia, giving her a nod before leaving the room discreetly.

As soon as Alexia is certain he is no longer within hearing distance, she pivots on her heel, so she’s facing you directly.

“What are you hiding?”

It’s so ominous, even Mapi thinks it’s a little bit far-fetched, as a 16 year old, Mapi was probably hiding more than she was sharing, it’s not really a fair question.

“What am I hiding?”

It sounds like you're even struggling to get words out, your voice is just so tired, like it’s taking up so much energy for you to speak a few simple words.

“Somethings wrong, you’ve been drinking all these energy drinks, which are not only far too caffeinated but also extremely bad for you and you look like you haven’t slept properly in weeks.”

You want to tell Alexia that she’s right, you aren’t sleeping properly, you haven’t been your whole life, but she wouldn’t be the first person who tried to help you and has failed miserably in the process, it’s quite simple, sleep and you just simply do not work.

“Anyone from England would tell you that I just drink energy drinks, it’s not that deep Alexia.”

Mapi is teetering on the edge of having to hold Alexia back from causing you bodily harm.

“Deep? Collapsing on a pitch is not deep? It seems pretty deep to me amor, you can hardly talk, you could hardly read this morning, it’s clear something is wrong and I want to know what.”

You don’t know how to tell Alexia that something isn’t wrong, this is just you, or the new version of you in Spain. Your insomnia had always affected you, moving to Spain had seemed to make it worse but you’d always lived like this, ever since you could remember, sleep was just something that you could never have consistently.

“Nothings wrong, I am fine, I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”

Alexia’s jaw sets and for a second Mapi does truly worry for you.

“I want you to not lie to my face.”

You visibly flinch at those words, you don’t want nor mean to lie to Alexia, but you figure you are saving yourself from a merry go round of painful conversations.

“I’m not lying.”

Alexia knows you are, she’s not stupid.

“Right, well you’ve got the day off, you’ll be coming home with me and staying with Olga and I until you look less like you are on the brink of a coma. María will go get your things.”

Mapi nods quickly at Alexia, walking out of the room as quickly as she can manage, leaving just you and Alexia.

Even though Alexia is mad, she begrudgingly helps you up from the bed, draping your arm over her shoulder to give you somebody to lean on as she walks the two of you out to her car. She’s just gotten you seated in the passenger seat and closed your door when Mapi pops up with your things. Before Alexia can hop into the car and get going, Mapi stops her.

“Be easy on her, si? She’s going through something and I know you want to know, I know you want to help her but whatever is wrong, she’s not talking about it for a reason. Maybe she doesn’t need you questioning her, just take a look, a proper look at her and see if you can get a better idea. For me?”

Alexia knows that Mapi won’t let go of her shirt without some kind of acknowledgement that she’s going to agree to her.

“Okay, I’ll go easy on her.”

It’s a half truth, Mapi seems to accept it though, letting go of Alexia’s shirt so that the Catalan can take her seat in her car and begin to drive the two of you home.

The car ride home is eerily silent, Alexia keeps her eyes focused on the road, her knuckles whitening from the grip she has on the steering wheel and her jaw so set that you begin to worry that her teeth must hurt from the constant clenching.

When the two of you pull up to Alexia’s house you’re feeling a lot better, your head is clearer and you don’t feel as broken as you had earlier.

You clamber out of the car, walking your way slowly to Alexia’s front door. Alexia bothers around with the keys, twisting them in the hole before opening up the door for the two of you.

“Ale? You’re home early.”

Olga’s voice filters in from the kitchen, the two of you making your way through until you spot her.

“Nena, is that you? I didn’t know we were going to have company, if I had I would have cleaned up a little bit for you.”

You shake your head at Olga, giving her a small smile that you’ve reserved just for Alexia’s partner.

“Go sit down on the couch, get your feet up.”

Alexia’s voice is stern, it immediately makes Olga frown at her.

Alexia allows her girlfriend to drag her from the kitchen and into their pantry.

“What’s with the mood?”

Olga’s happy space is her and Ale’s house, it’s supposed to be the one place that the both of them can get away from football and stress.

“Nena is hiding something, she collapsed at training and we don’t really know why but she does and she won’t tell us.”

Olga nods her head, the somehow younger but wiser woman putting on her thinking hat and trying to rationalise what Alexia is telling her.

“Don’t you think it would be smarter to try and be nice to her? I know that she’s fucked up, but it’s clear she just needs some love right now, maybe you should be giving it to her.”

Alexia thinks that Olga doesn’t understand the whole situation, she doesn’t see you everyday, doesn’t see how ragged you are and how deep this issue stems, but she also can’t not listen to her, the woman somehow tends to always be right and she can’t see why that would change now.

“Okay, okay.”

Olga smiles at her, getting up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to Alexia’s jaw before pushing her out of the pantry and back into the kitchen.

Alexia is unsurprised to find you dead asleep on her couch, your head lulled against one of her couch pillows. She’s glad, and decides to pocket the inevitable conversation she is going to have to have with you, instead opting to help her girlfriend make lunch.

You sleep for a total of 40 minutes, something that Alexia is less glad about. As soon as she notices you’re awake she’s forcing a bottle of water into your hands and two aspirins. You take them before she shoves them down your throat, taking multiple gulps of the water so Alexia didn’t have another reason to be mad with you.

To be fair, she looked a lot less mad than she had earlier, you wouldn’t even really describe how she looked as mad, more concerned.

Alexia sat down in front of you on the couch, taking a deep breath before she started speaking.

“I’m not going to force you to tell me anything, I understand that you are going through a lot, I just need you to know that I’m here for you, anything you need nena I am here to support you and try and help you however I think best.”

Alexia’s words cut deep for you, it’s a struggle for you not to break out in tears, as much as you really want to.

“I know Ale.”

She nods at you, holding back her own tears, there’s some kind of understanding between the two of you, that you aren’t going to cry or speak, just acknowledge each other for now.

“Olga’s made up the spare room for you, you’ll stay here until you’re in a better place. You’re welcome here and you’ll be no bother for the next couple of weeks.”

You nod your head, biting down on your tongue to stop yourself from arguing back to her.

The rest of the afternoon is fairly similar, you are fed by Olga and then spend the majority of the rest of the day lounging on the couch, occasionally falling asleep, but as Alexia notices, never for longer than 40 minutes. It’s like your body refuses to properly rest.

When dinner comes around you look just as exhausted as you had this morning, you just look a little bit less dead.

After dinner, you head off to bed, alexia’s glad, she’s hoping that you’ll have a nice long proper sleep and that all of this will be solved.

She’s wrong.

Instead of hopping into bed, you pull out your laptop, knowing that if you stand a chance at getting even two hours of sleep it’s not happening any time soon.

You work at your school work, completing the things you hadn’t finished earlier. When 12 o’clock rolls around, you force yourself away from your laptop and underneath the covers of alexia’s extremely comfortable spare bed.

You stare at the roof, every now and again you’ll twitch and for some reason it’ll hurt your brain. You play your favourite song over and over again in your head, praying that it’ll somehow lull you to sleep, it neves does. You stare at the ceiling and try to focus on the sound of the fan. You stare at the ceiling and wonder if the swirl pattern in it is mobing. You think about your favourite film and how the characters used to provide you so much peace. When you remember how much they meant to you, you let a few stray tears fall.

You stare at the ceiling.

Every once and a while, you’ll roll over and press your face into the pillows and pull the covers over your head and hope that if you hide somehow you’ll fall asleep.

Eventually, you’ll fall asleep.

Sometimes it takes hours, all for you to wake up half an hour later feeling as unsatisfied as ever.

It’s how you live, it’s the same routine every night, it’s your normal.

When 4am rolls around and you’ve managed to get a measly twenty minutes or so of sleep, you climb out of the sheets, annoyed that your glass of water is empty. Your eyes are dry and itchy with the feeling of needing to cry, you push that feeling deep into your gut, ignoring the desperate need to ignore your feelings in favour of keeping a strong face.

You try to be as quiet as possible, filling up your glass and taking a seat on Alexia’s couch, looking out of the window of her lounge room at the Barcelona skyline that lights up along her back fence.

“Nena is that you?”

You nearly jump out of your skin.

Alexia is standing in the kitchen, leaning up against the island, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and staring at you inquisitively.

“What are you doing awake?”

The words trigger something in you, it’s probably the half dazed state you’re in, the complete exhaustion and annoyance you’re experiencing at your inability to sleep, but all of a sudden, tears are dripping your face and you don’t know why or how.

Alexia freezes for a second, she’d expected something obviously, but crying was not one of those things.

She’s never seen you cry, she’s never had to deal with a teenager who is breaking down right in front of her eyes. She doesn’t know what to do, or how to help you, all she knows is that you are crying a lot and she is just standing and watching.

The problem solver in Alexia tells her that she has to do something, so she paces her way over to the couch, sitting down beside you and tentatively wrapping an arm around your shoulder. She doesn’t know whether or not it’s the right way to go, but it seems to pay off when you immediately relax into her, your head craning into the pocket of her neck and shoulder. Fresh, warm tears drip down onto Alexia’s skin.

Alexia is tense, her back as straight as a board. She doesn’t normally have to deal with this kind of thing, she doesn’t have to try and sympathise with feelings. She’s not an emotional person herself, she cries once a year normally and that’s on the anniversary of her fathers death.

“Nena, it’s okay, I’m here.”

Alexia’s words are calculated, strategic, like she’s reading them off of google or something. Truly, she doesn’t intend for them to come off that way, but it’s kind of just how they do.

Alexia waits for the tears to stop coming, she figures it has to happen, you can’t just cry forever.

The two of you sit like that, crisscrossed on the couch until you manage to compose yourself, until you’ve cried out all the annoyance and grievances over your current predicament.

In the past, your insomnia would stop you from sleeping for days, but eventually the exhaustion would catch up with you and you would get a good night or a few of sleep, but it had been weeks now of you living in Barcelona and sleep had been avoiding you the whole time.

“Nena, what’s wrong?”

Right now, it feels like everything is wrong, it feels like your whole world is upside and you want it to be normal, you want to just be able to close your eyes and get some fucking sleep.

“I can’t sleep.”

Alexia’s brow furrows.

“Well maybe you shouldn’t have had so many energy drinks, no?”

It’s the kind of reply you should have expected.

“No Alexia, I can’t sleep, I have insomnia.”

Alexia struggles with the translation in her head, in-som-ni-a?

“Sorry, what?”

You take a deep shaky breath, pulling your head away from Alexia’s chest so that you can rub the tears from your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt.

“Insomnia, I can’t sleep, medically. I have a condition that stops me from being able to sleep regularly.”

Alexia’s head all of a sudden starts working, she’s a little bit behind, it’s 4am after all and she’s struggling to keep her eyes open.

“You can’t sleep?”

You shake your head, Alexia wants to tell you that you’re being silly, but when she sees the pure heart break and exhaustion in your eyes she knows that you can’t be lying. You look so young, tear tracks all over your face and body caved in on itself.

“I can’t sleep.”

It makes more sense to alexia now, all the energy drinks, the exhaustion, the power naps.

“Have you talked to the team doctors about it, I’m sure they could give you medication or something that could make it better, this can’t go on forever, nena.”

You shake your head at Alexia, your exhaustion turning to fear.

“No and you have to promise you won’t either. I’ve been through it, the sleep tests, all of it. I won’t take drugs, you can't make me and I refuse to.”

It’s like you go from being a mellowed out version of yourself to an attack dog.

“Nena, you need help, you can’t keep playing when you can hardly keep yourself standing.”

You shake your head, so fast that Alexia worries you might pass out from the sudden and frequent movements.

“I’m not taking drugs, you can’t make me, I won’t do it.”

Alexia doesn’t know where this sudden defensiveness has come from, but she knows two things. She needs to make sure that you understand that she can be there for whatever you are going through whilst also trying to figure out what is your random refusal to not take medication.

“Wouldn’t it help some?”

It’s hard to explain your complete hatred for any kinds of drugs. You’d grown up in a household where your mom might as well have been a druggie with how little she was invested in your life and where your dad was a legitimate druggie.

You struggled to take paracetamol, let alone any kind of prescribed drug.

You were scared shitless that somehow, you would turn out like your father and that was the last thing you could ever want.

You didn’t come from a loving home, you didn’t come from a place where you got the newest cleats every year and the best training. You came from a home where grocery money was spent on cocaine and any football money was spent on heroin. You’d been lucky enough that you were good enough for England teams to notice you, for academies to notice you. You were always good enough that you didn’t have to fork out the extra money and if you did it was your own money.

That’s why you’d been so eager to get out of England, to come to Spain. It saved you from the lifestyle that you had been so desperate to get away from.

“I’m not going to take medication Ale.”

For a long time, you’d blamed the insomnia on the constant partying that happened at your house as a kid. Your dad was a revolving door house kind of person, there were always people inside of your house, women, druggies, sex workers, partiers. It was never ending, and for a logn while you’d just thought you couldn’t sleep because of the constant noise inside of your house. When you went away for your first camp at 11, you realised that just simply wasn’t it, you had a serious problem. Maybe it was a byproduct of always being in a house full of noise, or maybe it was just your fucked up ness, you just knew that somewhere along the way, everything in your brain started working backwards.

“Nena, you don’t have to take medication, but can you tell me why?”

You figure that you’ve already told Alexia too much, why stop now?

“My dad has drug problems, always has, probably always will. My mom was never really home as a kid, when she was it wasn’t pretty. I don’t want to turn out like them. That’s why I didn’t go home over the break”

Alexia’s heart drops. She’s been through her own problems with her family, her fathers death and so on. But she’s always had something and that is a safe place to go if she ever needs it. Her parents loved her, they did everything to protect her as a child, Alexia grew up in a space where she could be whoever she wanted and her parents would support her. You, to some extent, clearly didn’t and it explained a lot to her. It explained why you were so hesitant to accept help from anyone, and why you were such a lone wolf, you had to be for survival.

Alexia suddenly wraps her arms around you, all of a sudden feeling an overwhelming sense that she has to protect you, that you need her to keep you safe.

You’re crying again, it hurts less this time, it comes more from a place of exhaustion than annoyance and anger.

“I just want to rest Ale, I just want some peace.”

Alexia’s grip tightens, she’s compressing your bones in the best way possible.

“It’s okay nena, I’ve got you, it’s going to be okay.”

Alexia just holds you, until you exhaust yourself so much from the crying that you fall asleep.

She doesn’t want to wake you, not after everything you’ve just confessed to her, so she lays herself down on the couch, keeping you pulled tight to her chest as she drapes a blanket over the two of you and rests down against the pillows, deciding that she might as well get a few hours in for herself.

You wake up to the sun in your eyes and the smell of bacon and pancakes.

You feel better than you have in weeks, blinking the sleep away from your eyes and slowly sitting up as you adjust to your surroundings.

Alexia and Olga are in the kitchen, talking hushedly as Alexia cooks over the stove and Olga rocks with her from behind. It feels and looks intimate and you are so tempted to sneak out of the front door to leave them to their peace and avoid all the obvious issues that are going to have to be unpacked with your captain.

You’re seriously considering, but your plotting is stopped when Olga turns around to grab something and she spots you on the couch, conscious and awake.

“Bon Dia, nena.”

Alexia pivots as well, sending a smile towards you.

“Good morning, what time is it?”

Olga detaches herself from Alexia, moving towards the fridge.

“It’s just past six.”

2 and a half hours of sleep, that’s not bad at all, it’s better than you’ve had in weeks.

“Breakfast is almost done, if you want to take a seat at the table.”

You nod at Alexia, standing up from your spot on the couch and walking over to the dining table, taking a seat at the table and trying to tame your bed head whilst Alexia plates up the food.

The plate she hands you is full of food, bacon, toast, pancakes, sausages, fruit. It reminds you of home in a weird way, it’s not a truly traditional Spanish breakfast, more English and it seems like Ale’s done it for a reason.

She waits until you’ve started to tuck into your food before she starts speaking.

“I’ve scheduled a meeting with Jona and the medical team this morning, for you.”

Your boyd goes from relaxed and at peace to tense, Alexia knows it’s breaking your trust in a way, but she also knows that she’s now obligated to protect you.

“I told you I don't want doctors or drugs.”

Alexia takes a deep breath, looking over at Olga and being reminded that sometimes she has to do hard things.

“I know nena, and i’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to, I don’t think I could if I tried, but this can’t keep going. I did some research, there are some really good drugs for people that struggle like you, that aren’t addictive and can help lots. I’m not a doctor and neither are you. We don’t know about these things, it’s not our job, but there are people who do know about this stuff and they can try to help you, really help you. You can’t live like this, it’s not sustainable in any way, we need to find some way to fix this. Whether it’s therapy or medication or resting, you need something and you can’t provide it yourself.”

Alexia words are a punch to the gut, but they also make sense, she knows what she’s talking about.

“You promise that I won’t have to do anything I don’t want to?”

Alexia nods her head, she’s shocked that you’re already sort of agreeing with her.

“I promise nena, I just want to help you somehow, however that may be.”

You take a big bite of your food, and a gulp of the orange juice that Olga has set down next to you.

“I slept better than I have in months last night, because of you, I don’t know how or why but something you did made me sleep and if you think that I need help, then I can’t really argue with that. It needs to be on my own terms though.”

Alexia nods, this is so hard for you, accepting help, accepting that you have a problem that needs fixing.

“Of course nena.”

You nod, drawing all of your thoughts together.

“I think I need help Ale, I want help.”

#woso #woso community #marry me rn #barca femeni #alexia putellas angst #alexia putellas is mom #alexia putellas x reader #barca femeni x reader #wfc barcelona #barcelona women #barcelona femeni #barca #woso smut #lucy bronze

[rottingparts]

Confessions

[Mirage x Human!AFAB!Reader]

Summary: Mirage wants to take you out, and not with a sniper.

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: SMUT!! 18+, MINORS DNI!! Human/Alien Robot Relations, mentions of clit, grinding, size difference, bruising, marking up (but not on purpose) (please let me know if i missed something! Sometimes my brain thinks it typed it out or i just miss it in general, it's not on purpose i promise!)

A/N: There is no use of pronouns! Reader is AFAB, but is written GN. This was supposed to be like, multiple characters separately, but this got a little long and i didn't wanna write the other two this long as well, so I'm posting this one by itself. I also kinda wanna do one with potentially a male reader?? Give me your thoughts🔫 -Rot

It started with a ‘I know a place’ and ended with you hopping into Mirage and going to wherever it was he wanted to take you.

The two of you wound up in some secluded area, on a hill, overlooking the sunset below you. Mirage’s door opened and you scooted out. You looked at the scenery before you and gasped. It was astounding, beautiful, and most definitely breathtaking.

“How do you know about this place?”

Mirage waved his hand, “Ah, it’s-” He seemed to not be able to come up with anything, “Noah told me about it.”

“Of course,” You smiled at Mirage, “I should have known you wouldn’t know any cool New York places on your own.”

Mirage feigned being hurt, touching his chest and giving a slight gasp. “I’m trying to spend time with you, and you say that?”

You rolled your eyes playfully and sat down in the grass, looking at the pink and orange sky above you. You lied down and closed your eyes. You sighed and heard movement beside you. You peeked over and saw Mirage sitting beside you. He was watching you, thinking. You didn’t know about what, but you could see he was thinking hard.

“Y’know…” Mirage started, shifting where he sat, “This is probably not a good time,” he rambled on, “stop me if it isn’t,” he put one of his servos up, “but, you’re really beautiful, and I can’t stop thinking about you- I think the team gets mad with how much I talk about you-”

“Mirage-”

“Now, I understand if you don’t think the same thing-”

“Mirage!” You almost shouted. He stopped. “I think- I feel the same.”

“You think you do?” His optic ridges furrowed. He sounded worried.

“No! I know I do.” You smiled at him. “Um, this is embarrassing-”

“Oh trust me,” Mirage shook his head, “It isn’t.”

You paused, “No, it is. I think about you a lot. A lot more than I, uh, probably should.”

Mirage, growing intrigued, gave you a curious look. “Oh? What do you think about? I need every detail.”

Your eyes widened. “No you don’t. All you need to know is I feel the same, and maybe then some.” You were fidgeting, playing with the grass beneath you.

Mirage’s fingers met your face, and he gently, very gently, tilted it towards him. Your eyes met his blue optics and your stomach dropped. A heat pooled between your legs and you tensed. ‘Now is not the time,’ you shouted at yourself. Your breath caught in your throat.

“I’ll tell you what I’ve been thinking, but you gotta go first.” He inched closer to you, “I don’t want my thoughts to be too weird.”

You nodded, “Okay,” your palms hit your thighs and anxiously rub down them. Mirage was still keeping you looking at him, and as soon as you closed your eyes and inhaled, Mirage was quick to ask you to keep your eyes on him. You looked back at him, “For starters, I think about you a lot at night. I think about your voice, your… servos?” You asked, pointing at them, and he nodded, “I think about what they would feel like against my skin.”

Mirage’s ego was being inflated at a speed unknown to man, “Well, you don’t have to wonder any longer.” He smirked. “I’ll share now!” He seemed excited to tell you after you shared your thoughts, “I think about how soft you would be. Your skin, oh especially your lips-”

You, without thinking, interrupted him, “Would you like to figure that out?”

Mirage cocked an optic ridge at you, “Which one?”

“Both,” You whispered, voice barely audible. Mirage was stuck. Did he think he’d get this far? Not really. “You can kiss me…”

Mirage was on you instantly. Your warm hands went to his face and cupped it. His lips pressed to yours and your stomach turned with excitement. You pulled away, faster than Mirage would have liked and he pouted at you.

“No one is gonna come up here?” There was a desire in your eyes that Mirage could not get enough of. As soon as he shook his head, you nodded. “Can I-” You motioned towards his lap. He moved back from you, sitting directly on the grass and patted his thigh. You crawled onto him and started to kiss him once more.

Mirage grabbed at your waist, dragging you up his thigh slightly, causing you to moan. Mirage took this as a chance to happily stick his tongue into your mouth. You gasped, eyes widening and fingers tensing on his face.

Mirage’s tongue explored your mouth and you rocked on his thigh. That elicited another moan from you and you felt Mirage smile. Mirage moved his leg, picking it up and dropping it, causing you to fall with it as you tried to grind against him. You whined and pulled away from Mirage. He gave you an innocent look, acting as if he didn’t just do that.

With brows furrowed, you huffed at him, “Mirage,” You whined out his name.

“Oh~” He smiled, “I can definitely get used to hearing that!”

“Come on! You’re not gonna leave me high and dry are you?” It was your turn to look at him innocently.

Mirage was melting under your stare. He could have sworn his spark stopped. “How do you wanna do this?” He was folding already. “I mean, I think you’re too small for my spike…”

You bit your lip, thinking, “I could-” You couldn’t articulate your words properly, “I want us to both feel good.”

You saying that was all Mirage needed to hear. Before you knew it you were half naked, and Mirage had his spike out. Your shirt was still on, but your bottoms were thrown by Mirage to the side. You had asked him to not destroy them. He proved to be a good listener.

Mirage positioned you against his spike. He leaned back, keeping you steady, and watching you as you started to move. Since you were quite a bit smaller than Mirage, and knew you could not feasibly take his spike, he had decided it would be best for the both of you if you just would grind against it.

You started to move, pushing yourself along the spike. As you reached the head of it, your thighs would tense together and you could feel Mirage twitching under you. You would slide back down his spike, your clit rubbing against it. You let out a loud moan and cried out Mirage’s name.

“Fuck,” You whined as you hand grabbed for Mirage’s forearm, keeping yourself upright. Your legs were going to be sore the next day. But at that moment you did not care. As you pushed yourself up and slid your way back down Mirage’s spike again, you were getting closer and closer to release. “Baby,” You whimpered, “I’m gonna-”

As soon as you said ‘baby’ Mirage was close to losing it. His hips bucked upwards and you were sure the noise he made was going to be heard a mile away. His grip on you tightened and you came hard and fast, all over his spike. You did not stop grinding against him though, not until Mirage came himself.

You watched as Mirage’s optics seemed to fizzle out, he seemed to be short circuiting momentarily. When he whimpered you were sure you could orgasm again just from that alone. Transfluid came from his spike and your grinding began to slow.

“Don’t-” Mirage’s optics were blue again, and staring straight at you, “Don’t stop.”

“Mirage,” Your voice was soft as you were growing tired, “I’m too sensitive.”

Mirage seemed to realize his grip on you was not as soft as it once was and he let go, letting you slide down onto his leg. When you felt him lift your shirt and you heard him let out a little gasp you looked down at your side.  You noticed a bruise forming, one that resembled a not so small hand, and you felt yourself snort.

“This isn’t funny!” Mirage was not laughing, “I hurt you!”

“Mirage,” You reassured him, trying to steady yourself on his thigh, “it’s a bruise, it’s gonna heal. The way you held me was kinda hot, anyway.” Mirage was conflicted. “Let’s just hope the others don’t see it…”

Something clicked, “Wait, if they do see it, they’ll know-” Mirage looked ecstatic.

“Mirage! I am not going to show off this bruise so everyone knows that I was with you.” You shook your head. “But-” You put a finger up, “If someone asks I won’t deny it…”

#valveplug #tf mirage #rotb mirage #mirage #mirage smut #mirage x reader #transformers smut #transformers x reader

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

routine vibe check: what’s the best starter pokemon and why are you right (pictures and long paragraphs of evidence welcomed and appreciated)

Gonna get a good grade in vibe check, normal to want and inevitable to achieve because I have objectively correct Pokemon opinions and will block naysayers

OKAY LET'S GO

I decided to do, like, a top 5 list or something, because I'm bad at picking a single favourite of stuff. And then even that overwhelmed me, so I found one of those tier ranking list sites and produced this:

It was done in less than a minute, so if I wanted to get really picky, I don't know if I would be fully wedded to it (not sure if maybe Sceptile should be one higher) BUT it did help to highlight the important ones.

So!

5. Bulbasaur

It's. Just. So. Nice.

Like you can find cooler, more beautiful, cuter, fancier... there's a whole bunch of ways for a Pokemon to be great. But you will never ever find a nicer Pokemon than Bulbasaur. It's so lovely. Look at it. Look at its face.

I can't put it higher, because the rest of the line is fairly bland in terms of development. It's good and logical and fun, don't get me wrong, but Ivysaur and Venusaur just look like bigger versions with More Flower and Less Cute rather than creatures in their own right. To be honest, if it weren't a starter requiring a three-stage evolution, you could do away with Ivysaur. Something I don't like about a lot of lazy three-step lines is that the middle step just looks like a transitional mid phase rather than a Proper Creacher, like they were artificially inflating the Pokemon number count. Meanwhile it took us until Paldea to get a Girafarig evo that would actually make the giraffe tall. Madness.

However my first ever Pokemon was a Bulbasaur I called Daffodil, and I have traded him forward onto every single successive generation since. He is, quite literally, my First Ever Pokemon. I love him desperately. I still have him. Not many people still have their First Ever Pokemon. But I do and I love him. So, Bulbasaur gets the fifth spot.

4. Snivy

Again, a victim of the Banal Transitional Middle Evo, but both Snivy and Serperior are incredible, and as Meatloaf took such pains to tell us, two out of three ain't bad.

But Snivy! It's so snooty! I was super lucky with mine, too, because I beat the 12.8% odds and got a female, and I loved her. Normally the initial baby starters are designed to be cute but Snivy has SO MUCH PERSONALITY, she's great. And the design of Serperior is utterly gorgeous. She keeps the expression, but rather than the Animal Crossing-style snooty-cute vibe of Snivy you get this thousand yard withering stare of an empress whose servant (you) has just turned up dripping mud in her throne room and asked her for money. Her green and gold colour scheme is exquisite. Her filigree design, including her high collar, give off the air of wealth and sophistication befitting her immaculate pedigree. And all this! In a simple snake. Incredible design work, 10 out of 10, no notes.

Begone, you miserable peasant. Have him boiled.

3. Torchic

Now I'll be real with you, lads, but Pokemon design hit its stride with Hoenn and then got better.

It's partly a fashion thing, of course - you look at some of the Kanto designs and they are remarkably 90s, because that's when the franchise launched. Others are clearly a product of what the 1990's were capable of producing in pixels on an already over-stretched cartridge medium. Like we like to clown on Red and Green/Blue now, but my god, those game designers performed a miracle with Pokemon. Every single square inch of space was used to make that game, and complex designs weren't going to cut it.

(With that said, there is still no excuse for Dragonite.)

And then Johto came about and its Pokedex sucks ass. It's mostly new evolutions for existing Kanto stars, useless babies to inflate the dex number, or poorly thought out single-evos like the inexplicably short Girafarig and the unacceptably dreary Dunsparce (our greatest thanks to Paldea for fixing both of those).

BUT THEN CAME HOENN (trumpets intensify)

And we get habitats! Biomes! A different regional climate, gifting us a brand new area of Pokecology! And therefore a brand new flush of creativity in Pokemon design across the board; less dated, and more inclined to be unique rather than a rehash of Kantonian stuff.

Which brings me nicely to this lad:

Now, I mean. Just look at him. Fucking hell. Cute starter stage, check. LOOK AT HIM FACE

AND THEN he became, at the time, a brand-new unique typing: Fire/Fighting. I realise that is now the norm for like, half of the Fire starters, but that's because of Torchic, actually. He was super popular. In fact if you ever play Ruby/Sapphire/Emerald and you do what my husband and I like to call a Mynci Dave run (use one Pokemon almost exclusively, meaning it gets all the experience points and therefore over-levels to a terrifying degree, allowing you to sweep the game; so named after the noble Primeape we first did this with, Mynci Dave), Torchic is the PERFECT Pokemon to choose, because almost everything is weak to either Fire or Fighting in that region.

Anyway, Combusken is, again, kind of mid (although props for the inverted colour scheme and the fact that it actually does look like a teenager.) But Blaziken, on the other hand... Blaziken is a six foot ninja chicken with wings for hair whose Pokedex entry describes it as able to leap tall peaks in a single bound, a feat it achieves after strengthening its legs by hoofing Geodudes down mountains like they're fucking footballs

Also an impressive bulge.

My first was called Gilgamesh, and he was fucking great. For a long time, this mad lad was my actual favourite Pokemon, not just starter. Brilliant. Love him. Five stars out of three. King.

2. Fuecoco

It would probably surprise you to know I've not actually used one. I chose Sprigatito, and I do really like Meowscarada, actually. But pretty anthro cat boys have been done in Pokemon quite a bit at this point; cats, dogs and rabbits are over-represented in terms of Poke-taxa. Possibly this is another reason for a toad, a snake and a chicken being 5, 4 and 3 so far (ooh, basilisk ingredients, I've just realised.) They're new and unusual! I like an Eeveelution as much as the next person, but they're a whole family of cat-dog-rabbits, like.

However.

Nintendo has tried its hand at Pokecrocodilians three times (Feraligatr, Krookodile, Skeledirge), and they have gotten so much better at design each time that the three of them are basically a scale proxy for ongoing design improvement. Look, I've made a diagram:

EXCEPT

(Strap in)

This one is that rare thing: a three step line that deserves to be a three step line. Let's talk Fuecoco first:

SO CUTE. It's charming, it's charismatic, it's adorable.

It also has hints of its evolutionary end goal, but not like an undeveloped middle evo. It likes singing. The white face hints at the eventual calavera, and it looks a bit like a lil chilli pepper - a ghost pepper, probably in reference to the eventual Fire/Ghost typing. But the colours and shape right now also look a bit reminiscent of a babygro, because this thing is a cute starter. Lookit them teefs. That tuft. Its lovely smile. Beautiful.

And then, at the point you expect it to turn into just the awkward teenage version of the adult, instead we get Crocator:

Oh boy. Oh there's so much to say. Okay okay:

The region it's from is based on Spain, but this thing is incorporating Hispanic elements from across the board. It's a mariachi in a sombrero, except the sombrero also looks kind of like a ring of Mexican marigolds and kind of like a Catalonian Easter cake called Mona de Pascua that has an egg (or egg-shaped confectionary) in the middle. Body shape and markings look kind of like a piñata. The white face is now on its way to a calavera, with the cheek and nostril markings more defined. And it sings, with its open mouth (also how crocodiles release heat, appropriate for a Fire type) and signified by the mariachi theme.

THAT IS A LOT.

And then it becomes Skeledirge. A Fire/Ghost crocodile.

Now the obvious design here is the calavera and the  Día de Muertos theming, which is part of it. But there are also many examples of crocodile figures in Spanish folkloric ghost stories: the Catalonian Cocollona, the Lizard of Magdalena from Jaén, or the Drac de Na Coca, or even the Cuca - that one is Portuguese, but turns up in both Brasil and the Iberian Peninsula including in parts of Spain. It's got a Gaudi vibe (like Barcelona). It's got an alebrije vibe (like Mexico).

And the bird! Nile crocs have a cleaning symbiosis with Egyptian plovers; it also sits at the tip of the snout where male gharials have a sort of bulbous bit to help them make sounds (the singing thing).

But this is what the bird does when Skeledirge uses Torch Song:

It becomes a microphone, then grows in size and attacks the opponent in Phoenix form. Phoenix: Fire/Ghost. Resurrected from the ashes.

Quite simply, your fave could never.

5. Rowlet

My god. (My god)

gasp

Look at this lovely creacher. He is so round and so soft and so lovely. He looks like that baby Yoda meme. He looks like that cat that someone's landlord said they would make an exception for because he looks very polite. Look!!! At his lil bow tie!!! He is a smartly dressed young man and he is kind and he is... well, a bit vacant behind the eyes. A himbo, if you will. But he is all the better for that. What a lovely owl.

He looks a little like a barn owl, perhaps, and those were imported to Hawai'i, where Rowlet is from. But I think he looks a little like a Pueo owl, and given that he will eventually be a Ghost type, that seems right - pueos are one of the physical forms assumed by ʻaumākua in Hawai'ian culture, as I understand it.

And then, hang onto your tits, lads, because this is another banger - THE MIDDLE EVOLUTION IS ITS OWN DESIGN!!! (confetti cannons)

I said earlier that boring middle evos are like just awkward teenagers of the adults. Here, I present to you, a very deliberate Awkward Teenager, in Dartrix:

IT'S A DANDY

I love him I love him I love him

He plays with his fringe and if you touch it without permission he has a tantrum. God, he's so charismatic. Also, that fringe further suggests the pueo - they have pronounced outer rims around their facial disks like that. Look at his bow tie and tail coat. So smart and handsome

This one is so good that it could be the final evo. This is actually my issue with the Delphox line - Braixen is amazing, and then it becomes the bland boredom of Delphox. Braixen should have been the final stop. Here, Dartrix is much the same - good enough to be a high-quality end goal.

Where they differ is that Decidueye is better again.

IT SHOOTS ARROWS MADE OF ITS OWN QUILLS

Also, fun fact - This line is the only starter to change secondary typing. Dartrix is part Flying; but on evolving a second time into Decidueye, it switches to Grass/Ghost. In this evolution, it's definitely mostly a pueo, so the ʻaumākua reference is IN, but actually barn owls also have their associations with the dead in various cultures.

The crown of feathers around its head are also reminiscent of an ayaigasa - a hat worn by Japanese samurai archers. And yet! AND YET!

It still has its lil bow tie look. Bigger now, more of a cravat; but there it is.

A perfect Pokemon, and a perfect evolutionary line. No notes.

Anyway, thank you for this chance to waste three and a half hours writing this essay

#asks #pokemon #long post #gif

[chongoblog]

My First Pokemon Playthrough

So I've noticed in my time of talking about Pokemon, I've told a lot of various anecdotes that are all a part of my very first time playing Pokemon. I was feeling nostalgic, so I figured I would share what I remember about this playthrough for everyone to enjoy. There may be a tangent or two in there and people who have followed me a while may have heard these before, but hey.

For context, I believe I was about 8 years old at the time, and after collecting some Pokemon cards, watching a kid play Crystal at summer camp, watching some of the anime, and generally being a pretty big fan (I even have Pokemon Yahtzee burned into my memory for some reason...), I finally got myself a Game Boy Advance with Super Mario Advance 2: Super Mario World, some Frogger game (after looking it up, it was Temple of the Frog), Tony Hawk Pro Skater 2, and, of course, Pokemon Sapphire.

I remember that my starter was Torchic. I don't remember why I chose that one, although I remember really liking the color red at the time (which I still do), so that was probably why.

I don't remember too much about my team or the general progress I made in most of the game, but I do remember Slateport City. For those who do not recall, in Slateport City in order to advance you need to get into the museum, which is blocked off by Team Aqua Grunts until you talk to someone in the shipyard. There are also Team Aqua grunts blocking the route ahead

Now, my 8 year old brain for some reason concluded that the only way to get past the Team Aqua Grunts was to intimidate them with a high enough level Pokemon or something like that. So one night, while I was supposed to be asleep on a family beach vacation, I beat down more poor level 13 Pokemon than I could count. I learned later what I was actually SUPPOSED to do, which led to me finally fighting the Team Aqua Grunts.....with a level 42 Blaziken.

And since the Name Rater was in Slateport City and my starter had evolved, I figured it was only appropriate to give him the new moniker "MAGMA MAN"

The rest of the playthrough went about as normally as tearing through the game with mostly Blaziken normally would go. There were a couple exceptions though. First off, at the Weather Institute, after I saved the day from Team Aqua, they were kind enough to gift me a Castform, but my party was full, so I couldn't get it. My 8 year old self did not read this. (Remember this, it will come back later). But I managed to make my way through the game, catching Kyogre with my Master Ball and giving it the nickname "LEGENDARY"

Then we come to the Elite Four where I hit a brick wall. I don't remember my team at the time exactly, but I do remember it was MAGMA MAN which had reached about level 80 or so, LEGENDARY which was about level 48, a level 36 Pelipper, two level ~35 Tentacruels, and some other sixth Pokemon I don't recall. And for some reason, I just couldn't beat the Elite Four with this team for some weird reason. The best I could ever get to was Drake. I felt I was utterly defeated.

That's when we bring a new character into the story. A member of my friend group at the time who we'll call "John" to protect the innocent. Now John had a very "uncle who works at nintendo" type energy to him. The group used to play Gauntlet: Dark Legacy together all the time, and when I got the GBA port of it, he convinced me to trade my recently obtained copy of the Pokemon Trading Card Game Boy game for a Gameboy-Gamecube cables, only for me to learn too late that it didn't work like that, and from there, there were no backsies (but then I got ahold of a copy of Pac-Man VS and Four Swords Adventure then I learned to emulate, so who's laughing now).

Anyway, John saw that I was struggling and he decided that he wanted to help me out. You see, he had come across an incredibly powerful and rare Pokemon that couldn't be found in the wild. He had gotten it exclusive, and I had never seen it before. It was called a "Castform". Now John had Ruby version, so he decided that as much as it ached him to part with it, he figured it would be a reasonable trade to trade this powerful Castform for the slightly less powerful LEGENDARY. I agreed.

And then he moved to Ohio.

To this day, Castform is my least favorite Pokemon because of this betrayal. I was so distraught at 8 years old that I completely restarted my game of Pokemon Sapphire. I don't remember much about that second playthrough, but there's a reason why.

This rival battle on Route 110 is somewhat infamous for being quite the sudden difficulty spike. And since I knew how to get past Team Aqua now, I didn't have an over-leveled starter to stomp my rival with ease. After losing to her about five or so times, I got frustrated and figured that whatever team I had wasn't cutting it. So I restarted again.

In my third playthrough, I made it all the way to the rival battle on Route 110. Then she stomped me repeatedly. So I restarted again.

This cycle would go on for, like, 15 resets. I didn't count, but it felt like there was hundreds. As I would keep on resetting and playing through the early-game of Pokemon Sapphire (which I had practically memorized at this point), I would start to take things a lot less seriously, sometimes picking the girl character, making my name random gibberish, etc.

Eventually, on one of these playthroughs where I started with Treecko, I actually managed to beat the Route 110 Rival Battle! And on my first try too! And thus began the epic journey of a girl named DE.

Now, I'd figured at this point that maybe only leveling up one Pokemon wasn't the best approach, so I was trying to balance my teams a bit better (I guess my rival taught me something). I was making my way through the game, and one day I'm checking out my best friend's Pokemon in Ruby, and who do I see in his box, but a Kyogre. I take a look at his name, and I can't believe it. It was LEGENDARY. John had traded it to my friend before he moved.

My friend didn't know that it was originally mine, so he offered to trade it back, which I accepted. LEGENDARY was a disobedient little bastard since I didn't have enough badges, but he got the job done. I don't remember the team I ended up using to finally beat the Elite Four, but it included my Sceptile starter, a Sableye that somehow knew only Fighting-type moves, and two Kyogres, LEGENDARY and LEGENDARY2.

And that's my first playthrough of Pokemon Sapphire. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it.

#pokemon #now that im done typing this all out a minor addendum #the sableye was from my emerald playthrough #because his moveset was Brick Break Focus Punch Detect and Dynamicpunch #And Dynamicpunch was only teachable through a tutor in emerald #anyway yay story time

[ichorai]

hell, yeah ; roman roy ; part three (m).

pairing ; roman roy x f!reader

synopsis ; pain was an old friend for the both of you.

words ; 14.4k

themes ; fluff, angst, drama, slowburn, suggestive, childhood friends to lovers

warnings / includes ; depictions of mental and physical abuse, talks of sexual misconduct (cruises incidents), mentions of death, a lot of sexual/suicidal jokes and general foul language, a lot of business talk, roman’s implied demisexuality, kendall is Losing it this chappie, fucked up family dynamics, imaginary dead cats & real dead sisters <3

a/n ; tumblr is being a bitch and not letting me turn off beta editor so :) what was originally going to be one massive chapter of s3 is now going to be broken down in shorter pieces!

series masterlist. main masterlist.

“Logan Roy was personally and fully aware of the crimes committed aboard Brightstar Cruises,” said the news reporter. “Kendall Roy says his father paid millions of dollars to hide and cover up criminal activity at the cruise line.”

You shut the tablet off, pinching the space between your brows as you drew out a deep exhale. 

“This is fucking insane,” Roman muttered under his breath as he scrolled through Twitter, under his brother’s trending hashtag. “He’s gone off the rocks.”

Leaning forward, you asked the twins, “You guys don’t think he’s telling the truth, right?”

Rome shot you a quizzical glance. “Kendall doesn’t know how to tell the truth. It’s against his biological nature.” After a moment, he let out a high-pitched, “But…”

“What?” asked Shiv.

“I may not be team Kenny here, but, uh… Dad isn’t exactly unsqueezable right now,” he said. His eyes met yours. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m wondering if Kendall just fucked us over. Again. I mean, obviously I didn’t want him to be the scapegoat for cruises but this is—this is just something else entirely.” Then you nudged Shiv. “What about you?”

The woman screwed her lips into a purse. “I’m thinking we just need to back Dad right now. But… what am I actually thinking?” She lowered her voice to a whisper you could only barely hear. “I’m thinking, ‘Is he toast?’”

Her brows pulled together, wondering if she should’ve divulged that information to either of you. 

“Yeah,” you said, clearing your throat. “I think there might be a chance that he could be burnt.”

The three of you stood in silence. Roman closed the stupid bird app before he could see another edit of his brother to a Lana Del Rey song, and slid his phone into his pocket. 

It was then that Hugo and Gerri strode up, expressions grim. A Kendall-shaped bomb was dropped on them, and they were all scrambling to get things together whilst Logan stared angrily out of a window.

“Hi. Listen, I’m drowning in calls,” said Hugo. “I just want to deny, you know, any kind of speculation. So, uh, I’m just checking—we’re all good if I say, for a starter, that he never hurt anyone and he never touched anyone personally?”

Roman scowled, as if it was a ludicrous question to even take into consideration, and Gerri answered on everybody’s behalf. “You can reassure on that, Hugo.”

A second later, Logan’s voice rang out from across the room. “Did you know?” he asked. “Connor? Roman? Shiv? Did you know?”

Apprehensive, the siblings crept closer to their father, who still had his back turned to them. You crossed your arms and listened on from behind Roman.

“Did you know he was going to do that?” he queried once they were all close by. “I was wondering.”

“Obviously not, dad,” Rome said.

A muscle in Logan’s jaw twitched. “Uh-huh.”

Roman scratched at the back of his head. “Kendall’s mentally ill. He’s insane.” He needs help, he wanted to say, but wisely bit down on his tongue before it could slip.

There was a long moment of silence. Shiv eyes darted from her father to her husband. 

Finally, Logan turned to face his children. “Everyone. Gather up! Battle stations—let’s go.”

The small group rounded around a table with Logan at the very head. It was Gerri who started with a proposal, all heads turned to listen to her.

“I suggest I call the DOJ, and we right away let them know how horrified we were to learn of these allegations. We can tell them we intend to form a special committee and we can inform them which white shoe law firms we are considering to thoroughly investigate and promptly report back their findings,” said the woman.

Shiv watched her godmother with mild unease. She was a woman to look up to, she was competition, she was better than anyone else here, and she was an accomplice. Then, her eyes darted to you, your fingers silently drumming along the table’s surface. There was no doubt Logan would be forced to announce his successor soon. Would you be competition for the throne, as well? You’d certainly make for a formidable CEO.

“Do we cooperate?” asked Logan.

There was a brief moment of puzzled silence.

Gerri’s brows furrowed as she replied, “With the government? Uh, yeah. I think we’re gonna have to cooperate. I mean, we were under pressure already—”

“Unless we don’t,” Roman cut in.

“That’s ridiculous. Not cooperating would be like shining the fucking spotlight right onto us. This is a public company—we tanked privatization in Turkey,” you vehemently protested.

To that, Gerri agreed. “We don’t know what they have or what they might get. There’s only one real play here.”

“What if I don’t want to pull down my panties so fast?” grumbled Logan.

“Then we pull up the draw-bridge. The story would be that he’s exploiting these poor women—and that’s very sad. Twitter would tear him apart. You were grooming him for the top and, wow, would you look at that? He relapsed, and he blew it,” Roman said. Both you and Shiv exchanged worried, distasteful glances. “He’s a bitter fuck-up that needs to be psychiatrically evaluated. Of course, you’re the big baddie, so everybody jumped on board.”

Brows cinching, Shiv asked, “What about these papers he says he has?”

“Uh… fake. Or stolen, if they even exist. Are we even worried about these papers? We’ll go after him for corporate theft, then,” he spouted off. “This is—you know—not a nice thing to say about your son, but maybe chop him up into a million pieces and throw him into the Hudson? 

You destroy Kendall, it falls apart.”

It was strange to think, just twenty-four hours ago, the two brothers were quite amicable with each other. As brotherly as people like them could be, at least. Now they were on opposite sides of the chessboard, waiting for the play.

Frank and Karl started listing off a couple stats, and Shiv sat forward in her seat.

“Kendall’s changed the game,” she said. “Noncooperation now, it wouldn’t—it’s just too hot out there. I think it’s very high risk.”

“Everything’s high risk if you’re a pussy,” Roman said, picking at his nails.

You frowned. “If we don’t cooperate, it’ll just make us look all the more guilty.”

And what if we are? The brief thought crossed your mind. What if everything Kendall said was true?

“If I stop picking at scabs and saying sorry, who knows where we’ll end up. Admissions of wrongdoing—that’s billions out the door,” Logan said. 

His words made your expression falter just a little bit. 

“Get the raisin,” your godfather told Hugo, referring to the American president. “Let’s go to the top.”

The planes heading back to New York were readied soon after. Just as you stepped out of the car that took you to the tarmac, your phone began to buzz in your pocket. To your relief, Roman was busy chattering to Gerri, and you were able to step away from the group to pull your phone out.

Kendall’s contact name stared right back up at you. You sucked at your teeth in thought, before swiftly answering.

“Hello?”

He sang your name then, in a pitch too high for his caliber. 

“What do you want?”

“What do I want?” he parroted. “I want you in, Y/N. You’ve got a premium spot right by my side, in the new company I’m going to build. You’re the glue, dude. You are.”

A shifty glance back at Roman and Shiv, Logan and Gerri. You took a few steps closer to the plane. 

“Is it true?”

“What?”

“What you said on TV. That Logan knew about cruises and paid it off.”

A brief pause.

“Obviously,” he said. “Obviously it’s true. I’d never lie to you, Y/N. You’re like—you’re like a sister to me, you know?”

“Have you called Shiv? Offered her a place, too? Roman?”

A longer silence. 

“No,” he finally said.

It was a lie, you knew it clear as day. But you didn’t know exactly which part of it was a lie.

“I can’t trust you,” you murmured into the phone, shifting the device in your palms. Roman’s eyes were now on you. He waved, and you waved back, shooting him a thumbs up when he gestured to the plane. “You understand that, right? I can’t trust you, as much as I want to.”

Before he could respond, you abruptly hung up, and quickly shoved your phone back into your pocket to jog to the rest of the group.

“Who were you talking to?” Roman asked once you caught up with him, mildly suspicious.

“Karolina,” you quickly lied. “She wanted to know what the play was.”

“Mmh. Right.” He nudged his shoulder into yours. “We’ll be okay.”

“I’m not so sure.”

Roman’s eyes searched yours, but you averted them when his dad approached the group. His sunglasses were perched high on the bridge of his nose—you could see your worried reflection in them. He asked for a lawyer: a good one, preferably a woman.

Lisa came to mind, one of the most reputable lawyers in the country, conveniently a friend of Shiv’s. 

“Shiv, Roman, Gerri, Y/N—you’ll all go back to manage New York,” said your godfather. “No need for me to go running back like a slapped girl. Looks weak.”

Pursing your lips, you offered him a nod. “We’ll take care of it.”

“Good,” he said, patting your cheek affectionately. Once, then twice, then his hand fell back down to his side. He used to do that when you were a young child, sporting pigtails and scraped knees. “Good.”

Then, he ruffled Roman’s hair. “Fuck off down there, Tumbledown Dick.”

And with that, the two of you, along with Shiv and Gerri, boarded the plane.

“As I step back temporarily…” began Logan, surveying Karl, Frank, Hugo, and Tom in front of him, “who do we like as CEO?”

They stared at him blankly. 

“I don’t give a fuck,” Logan huffed in exasperation. “It’s name plates. Come on! Brain dump. Speak, and let a hundred flowers bloom.”

Unsurprisingly, Frank and Karl didn’t hesitate to offer themselves up first. Tom watched the older men apprehensively. The two were quick to be pushed to the side, and Logan snapped his fingers.

“Who else?”

“I mean, I imagine you’re looking at a kid. Or Gerri,” said Frank. 

“Yeah. Yes. I’d like a kid, obviously. So—Shiv or Roman. But we’d love a woman. So, Shiv or Gerri. But I’d like experience. Which would be Roman or Gerri.”

Leaning forward in his seat, Hugo cleared his throat. “Well, there’s one obvious person who’s got all three of those. Y/N, she’s young, she’s a woman, and she’s experienced. A perfect candidate.”

Silence stretched thin between the men. Logan tilted his head in thought. Tom quietly excused himself to run to the bathroom.

On the plane heading to New York, Shiv’s phone began to ring, and she excused herself to the back where neither you, Roman, or Gerri could hear her. Gerri pushed her glasses further up her nose as she studied a text message on her phone. Silent, she gestured to the two of you to take a look. 

A message from Frank. They were picking a new CEO, right then and there.

When Shiv came back quiet as a mouse, Roman started up a bitchy catfight with his sister for not sharing with the group.

“How come Frank called you and how come you told them?” Shiv asked her godmother. 

Gerri shrugged. “I’m just a very straightforward person, Shiv.”

“What’d you hear?”

She glanced at her phone once more. “Just that there’s a number of names in contention.”

“All of us, probably,” you said with a mild grimace.

Roman slung his arm over your shoulders, jostling you ever so slightly. “Care to make it interesting? Throw a bit of money on the table?”

“I’m already pretty fuckin’ interested,” Shiv replied, nose wrinkling. “I think I’m good.” With that, she turned to her side to look out the window.

Drawing in a shallow breath, you loosely intertwined your hand with Roman’s. “You think you’d be ready to take on the mantle if you got the job?” you quietly asked him.

“Fuck, yeah. It should be me, right? I’m the most logical option.”

You stared at him for a moment, wondering how much of what he’d just said was utter bullshit. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

Roman tapped your nose twice and you fixed him with an exasperated look. “Like you don’t agree with me. But you do, right?”

“I don’t know, Ro. I don’t think what Kendall pulled means you should suddenly be crowned king,” you muttered. “I don’t think any of us should.”

When you eventually passed out beside Roman, your legs thrown over his, he waved a hand in front of your face, just making sure you were actually asleep. As gently as he could, Roman slid away from your legs to get up and set them back down on his seat. He bent at the waist to kiss your forehead and you murmured something in your sleep, but thankfully didn’t stir anymore than that.

He made a bee-line for the plane’s bathroom, locking the door behind him.

Then, he called his father.

“Oh, Romulus,” Logan’s voice buzzed through once he answered after the second ring.

“Hiya, Dad. Can I just—can I speak to you for a moment? You free?”

“Sure.”

Roman leaned his weight against the sink. “Well, um, it’s already getting out what you’re thinking about so… I just wanted to throw a couple things in the ol’ lobster pot.” 

“Mhm.”

Squinting at his warped reflection, Roman said, “I think it should be me. It’s my time. I can do it, I want it, and I think I can pull it off.”

A long silence. 

Roman scratched at the back of his head, a bout of nerves suddenly scratching within his chest. “Uhm, yeah, I think it should be me. But… if you don’t think I’m ready, which, uh, totally valid, I would completely understand, and I’m not saying I’d agree with that, but, you know—maybe it could be Y/N. She’s… she’s a good, fresh face for the company. She’s good at this shit. All the corporate managing shit. And if—if she doesn’t work, Gerri is a prime contender, too. A couple years under her, then maybe… maybe it could be me.” He cleared his throat and drummed his fingers along the faucet. “And, listen, I know you’ve been sweet on Shiv. I love her like a brother, seriously, but I just don’t think that it’s time for her, you know? For whatever reason it ain’t Romey time, then, uh… maybe it’s crony time.” 

He winced. 

“Mmhm,” was all Logan said.

“I hope I haven’t, uh, overstepped here.”

On the other end of the line, Logan smiled. “Nope. Thank you, son.”

“Okay. Alright. I’d love it, but, uh, you know, I’d understand if—I do want it, though. No hard feelings if, uh…” He was rambling. Logan never liked it when he did that. One time when he was thirteen, Logan gripped his cheeks so tightly that it ached and snarled out a warning that if he heard another uhm come out of him, he’d toss him to the fucking wolves. Good times. “Yeah. Love you, Dad. Bye.”

“Uh-uh,” Logan said, and hung up first. He locked eyes with Frank. “Roman’s out.”

When the plane landed, Shiv got a call from Logan.

“What?” asked Roman. “What’d he say?”

“He wants me to go get Lisa to be his lawyer,” she said. “He told me to tell you guys to wait airport adjacent, though. He might need someone to fly to Boston for investors.”

You frowned. “Fuck. I thought I’d be able to go home for a bit.”

Shiv arched a brow. “You’re more than welcome to. But, you know, Dad wouldn’t like that very much.”

That kept the rest of your complaints quiet.

Once the four of you disembarked the plane, Shiv took a car to head after Lisa, and the three of you were taken to a fancy hotel nearby. 

Gerri got her own room right beside yours, and she told you to shoot her a message if anything of importance came up. You gave her a half-hearted smile and a nod. You were rooting for her, really.

Roman took a step in the direction of your room despite having his own across the hall, shooting Gerri a smirk and a salute before she could make her way in. “If you hear the bed rocking through the walls, that’s us having wild, passionate sex. Feel free to drop in if you want.”

Rolling her eyes, Gerri shut the door in Roman’s face.

The hotel was large and spacious, and you were quick to shed your outer layers, sinking onto the bed with a groan. 

“I miss home,” you said when Roman kicked off his shoes and loosened his tie. “I’ve been held hostage in a different country and then stuck on a fucking yacht with the most dysfunctional family for way too long. I wanna go home.”

He laid down beside you. He couldn’t really understand how you were feeling. His house was mostly empty and lacked any true life. It didn’t actually feel like his home.

“Yeah, I’m fucking exhausted.” he said nonetheless. Then he tugged you closer and pressed his nose against the side of your head. “But I’m not too tired, if you catch my drift.”

“I’m not having sex with you in a random hotel with Gerri next door,” you deadpanned, though there was a slight laugh to your voice.

Roman snapped his fingers. “Would you prefer to have her here, watching? You little sicko.”

Finally, you laughed, and shoved him away. “I’m tired, Ro. I’m gonna go take a shower and knock out.”

“Hm. Can I join?”

“You tell me,” you said, knowing that Roman wasn’t ready for that just yet.

The two of you stared at each other for a few seconds. Roman shrugged. “I’ll be here if you need me.”

You kissed his cheek quickly, before pushing off of the bed. 

A steamy shower later, you stepped out of the bathroom in the comfier clothes you made sure to pack. Roman sidled past you to wash himself up next, but not without pinching your side on the way. He shut the door and locked it before you could retaliate.

You waited until you heard the spray of the shower start up. 

Only then did you grab your phone, dialing Logan’s number. You hoped he was still awake. 

To your relief, he picked up after the third ring.

“Hi, Uncle Logan.”

“Hello, dear. You and Romulus are doing well in the hotel, I hope?”

You sat down on the edge of the bed. “Yeah! Yes, he’s just in the shower right now. So, I just wanted to clarify some things.”

“Go on.”

It felt as if there was a heavy weight on your chest. “I just… I know that you’re in the middle of picking a new CEO, and I know I probably look like a pretty good option to get the company out of hot water right now. But…” You exhaled softly. “I love you, Uncle Logan, but I don’t love this company. And I—I just don’t want to be the face of it.”

You drew your knees up to your abdomen and wrapped an arm around them. 

“Mhm,” Logan said.

“I hope that doesn’t, uh, hinder your perception of me in any way, but… yeah. I don’t want it. I’m perfectly happy with the job I have now. And—if you ask me, I think Gerri is the best person for this role.”

“Hm. Thank you, Y/N. I appreciate your honesty.”

Well… that was certainly a better response than you anticipated. You half-expected him to get angry and cuss you out.

You bit down on the inside of your cheek. Did you do the right thing?

“Bye, Uncle Logan.”

“Sleep well.”

With that, the call ended. 

Five minutes later, you got a text message from Gerri. Two words, and that was it.

It’s me, it said.

Another one pinged through a minute later. 

Shiv blew it with Lisa.

Your brows raised. Roman was certainly going to have a field day once you told him.

You shot her a reply. 

Congrats, Gerri. I’m glad it’s you.

The next day, Shiv was nowhere to be seen. She wasn’t answering her phone, and she’d turned off her location. Logan was beyond furious, yelling through the phone at both you and Roman to keep a watchful eye on Gerri and to try and find Shiv. Once the call ended, the two of you gave each other meaningful glances. There was only one place Shiv would go after she felt slighted. 

She’d gone to confront Kendall. Maybe to scope out what he was doing for Logan. Or maybe just for herself. You didn’t quite know her motif just yet.

“So… we’re going to Kendall?” Roman asked you.

“That’s where she’d be,” you replied. “But let’s not… tell your dad yet.”

“Sounds good with me,” he snorted. “He’d have a fucking heart attack.”

Before the two of you got into the car, Roman mumbled something about not wanting to turn up empty-handed, and bought a box of a dozen fresh cinnamon rolls from the airport. 

The drive there was quiet and tense. Roman began anxiously drumming his fingers on the car seat, then moved to doing it on your thigh and you didn’t bother stopping him. You pulled out your phone and shot Shiv a text, though you were nearly certain she wasn’t going to answer.

Everyone’s looking for you. I hope you know what you’re doing.

Once you got to Kendall’s base—which was just his ex-wife Rava’s house, because he had nowhere else to set up—Jess was the one to greet the two of you on the lower levels.

“Kendall’s a bit busy at the moment, but he’s told me to just send the two of you up.”

“Thanks, Jess,” you told her, not unkindly. Sometimes you felt bad for the woman. She was bright and intelligent and a hard-worker, and it was clear that she had so much potential. It was a shame she was glued to Kendall’s side.

An elevator ride later, the two of you stepped into Rava’s living room. And, to none of your surprise, Shiv was right there on one of the clean grey couches.

“Oh, wow. Lookie, lookie. Alright, okay,” deadpanned Roman. “How come you’re not answering your phone?”

Shiv lifted one of her shoulders nonchalantly. “I’ve had it off. No agenda.”

“Right. No agenda.”

“How is he?” she asked.

“Fine. Worried about you,” you said. You took a seat on the couch across from her and Roman took to wandering around, touching just about every single piece of decoration he came across. 

The red-head narrowed her eyes at you. “So, uh, how are you feeling about Gerri as CEO?”

“Great. I think she was the best choice.”

“Uh-huh. And you didn’t want it for yourself?”

“No.” There was no hesitation to your answer.

“Right.” Shiv laughed as if she didn’t believe you. “Of course you didn’t.”

Roman’s lips twitched as he leaned against the backrest of the couch, leering over his sister. “What’s your fucking game? What are you even doing here?”

“Why? What are you guys doing here?” she shot back.

“Here looking for you,” said Rome. 

“Sure.”

Rolling his eyes, Roman haughtily said, “As far as you know, that’s the fucking truth.”

Before anyone could say anything else, there were echoing footsteps down the hall, and Kendall appeared, a silly smile plastered across his face.

“Here he comes,” said Roman. “The attention whore.”

“Hey, Rome. Y/N.” He stood in front of his brother, glancing back and forth between you and him. “How are you guys doing?”

Tilting his head, Roman replied, “Great. Thanks for asking. It’s just been a really—great few days. You know, being a hostage held at gunpoint, and then my brother decided to fuck the family company over on a whim. It’s been great. How about you?”

“I’ve been good!” said Kendall, propping his hands up on his hips. “Certain amount of regret, but you know—pretty cleansed.”

 It took all you had in you not to heave out a grand sigh. “Cleansed,” you mumbled. “You could’ve just gone on a spa retreat for that. Didn’t have to pull all this shit. I think a clay mask would do you good.”

Kendall shot you a mildly amused look. “I needed to do this. And yeah—I still meant every word of what I said to you.”

You frowned. He was clearly alluding to the phone call where he was offering you a spot with him. “Right. Oh, and, uh—Ro brought you those cinnamon rolls from the airport.”

“That’s so sweet. That’s kind. Thanks, Rome,” said Kendall, glancing at the blue little box on the table.

“Shut up. Just eat ‘em or don’t,” Roman said, standing behind the couch and patting your shoulders. You reached over and rubbed his hand.

Finally, Kendall rubbed his palms together and addressed all three of you. “Look, guys, can we start on a clean slate? You didn’t like how I handled things with Dad. Sure. Whatever, I’m sorry. But that’s for me and him. Here’s the thing… he’s over, so let’s work together to take the company over and help him move on out.”

Roman wrinkled his nose. “Uhm… well, I’m just here to spy on Shiv, so—”

“And I’m just here to get you to back down,” Shiv told her older brother.

The four of you fell silent when a group of Kendall’s busy worker-bees crowded into the living room, holding stacks of files and papers and binders.

Shiv blew out a sigh. “I’m sorry, I’m trying to tell you how much of an asshole you are, but can we do it somewhere we don’t have to fold in Rava’s dog-walker?”

“Yeah. Sorry, yeah. Follow me. Uh—we can go into her room. Sophie’s room.”

Roman helped you up off the couch and snorted, “I’m surprised he remembered his kid’s name. Uh, which one was she? Right! Sophie. Or was it Sophia?”

The two of you snickered under your breath, and filed into the room behind Kendall and Shiv.

“Don’t touch any of her shit,” said the oldest out of the four.

Of course, Roman reached out and brushed his hand along all the little toys and trinkets lining her desk and drawers. You were the last in the room, and you didn’t even get the chance to reach out and shut the door behind you before Kendall was rubbing his hands together.

“Okay. So… uh, it’s pretty simple, really. Let’s gang up on dad and take him down.”

“Well, fuck. At least wait until the door’s closed,” you said, just before kicking it shut. Patting Roman’s shoulder, you took a seat near the foot of Sophie’s bed while Shiv made her way to the very top.

Kendall grinned sheepishly, though you could see the apprehension in his eyes.

“Why didn’t you come to us before?” Shiv asked. “Because look—it’s a real fucking mess now.”

You thought back to the yacht. How Kendall was offered up as the sacrificial lamb, unexpectedly. Of course he’d have no time to confer with any of you.

The grin on his face seemed to taper away. “It came together in my head a bit late. And, you know—I mean, I knew what I was gonna do, but…”

Roman’s brows furrowed. “That was spontaneous?”

“Well, I spoke with a lawyer—”

“Oh, wow! He spoke with a lawyer?” Roman parroted in a mocking tone. 

“But they advised against it. I don’t wanna rehash it all but—I was effectively acting alone.”

The words made Roman roll his eyes so far into the back of his head it was a wonder he couldn’t see his brain. “Right. A spontaneous, heartfelt out-pouring of thoroughly lawyered emotion.”

“You guys can think whatever you want, in the end, of me. My offer still stands.” His eyes were on Shiv, then on you. 

You drummed your nails against Sophie’s soft blanket. “Kendall… you can’t just expect us to drop everything and trust you blindly. Do you understand how much we’d be risking? You have to give us something to work with here.”

Scoffing, Shiv said, “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m here to get him to back down.”

“On Dad’s behalf,” Roman added. Was it a question or a statement?

Kendall nodded twice. “Right. Uh-huh. So if I say that I won’t back down and I’m not interested in negotiating any deals, you’d just call him and tell him to take a hike?”

Before anybody could say anything else, there was a knock at the door, and Jess’ head popped through.

“He’s here,” said Jess.

“What? Who?” asked Roman.

“Con. Yeah, send him in,” Kendall said. The grin was back on his face.

Roman laughed under his breath. “Right. Thought I heard a clown car pulling up.”

“Ideally I’d like to make a media appearance. All of us,” Kendall told the three of you. 

Immediately, he was met with noises of protest and sour faces. 

“Sweet,” Roman droned. “Are we gonna be wearing costumes that you have designed, asshole?”

“Yeah. That’s not happening,” Shiv chimed.

More hesitantly, you added on, “That sounds like an awful idea, Kendall. No offense.”

The door opened again, and Connor came in with a wide smile. He greeted Kendall with a hug, then swung his gaze to the rest of you.

“Pop’s looking for you guys, you know,” he said. He sat down beside you and rubbed your shoulder comfortingly. “You okay? You look tired.”

“Could be better, Con. Could be better.” You spared him a half-hearted smile, then shrugged.

Shiv leaned back against the headboard. “We’re here on his behalf.”

Connor laughed, and sent his half-sister an amused glance. “Oh, sure, honey. Me too. All about Dad. That’s why we’re all here.”

Bored, Roman began wandering around the room, glancing and poking around in Sophie’s walk-in closet. He pulled out a frilly pink t-shirt and held it up to his chest. “You think this color suits me?”

“Put that back,” Kendall admonished dismissively, but didn’t bother to take it away from him. Instead, he continued right on with the topic of conversation, taking a seat on an ottoman. “Okay, can we just—can we turn off the devices and get into this? If this shit was just epiphenomenal, maybe it could be ridden out. But these incidents are symptomatic of a foundational sickness within our father and this company.”

Roman snorted. “Hmm, don’t he use that tongue prettier than a twenty-dollar whore?”

Chuckling, Shiv tilted her head. “So what’s your point?”

“My point is… the milk is going sour. You know, the great whites from politics to culture, they’re rolling off the stage. It’s our time.”

“You mean us?” Roman asked, giggling. “The multi-fucking-ethnic transgender alliance of twenty-something year-olds we got here?”

You shot the man an incredulous look. “Kendall, you’re a rich, middle-aged white man. I’m sorry if your image doesn’t exactly scream woke extravaganza.”

He waved the two of you away. “Okay, listen. Big picture, we’re at the end of the long American century. Our company is a declining empire inside of a declining empire. People are killing themselves with guns or dope so fast that we’re losing pace. We’re, uh, we’re fat-fingered fucks and we can only live on cream. US supremacy is waning—”

“Why is that a bad thing?” you cut in, nose wrinkling. 

Kendall held his hand out, as if to gesture at you to keep quiet. “What I think is, within that context, we can become omni-national and reposition. Because actually, we’re not tied to anything culturally or physically. So, we’re actually in a great position to leapfrog tech. Information is going to be more precious than water. Combine all our news operations, and become the global news information hub.”

You winced. It was a bad idea. A terrible idea. It reminded you of the Pierce acquisition but just… a hundred times worse. And what the hell does omni-national even mean?

“Amazon is twenty years old, and Gates is an old geezer. Detoxify our brand, and we can go supersonic.”

Silence. Utter silence. 

You and Roman stared at each other, as if trying to reassure each other how bullshit everything he was saying sounded.

“What do you say?” Kendall asked. “Are we interested?”

Roman hummed. “Mmh. There’s just something about betraying our father that doesn’t sit well with me.”

“He’s a central player in a rotten cabal that has basically eaten the heart out of American democracy—”

“Rotten Cabal is a good name for a band,” Roman chimed.

“Dad’s not on trial for that, though, Ken,” said Shiv. 

Hotly, Kendall defended, “Maybe he should be.”

“If he didn’t do it, it would’ve been someone else making the same dollar off the same shit,” said Roman. 

Leaning his weight onto his knees, Kendall turned to look back at his brother. “Yeah, maybe. Maybe we’re all irrelevant. Maybe there’s always going to be death camps and maybe the planet is going to fry, and there’s nothing we can do. Or maybe… maybe people make a difference. I don’t know. Do you think human beings matter, Rome?”

The conflict danced across Roman’s eyes clear as day. It disappeared quickly once he crossed his arms and said, “I’m just gonna say it now—I’m a spy and I’m gonna go back and tell him everything. I’m with Dad, so… fuck you.”

Kendall frowned. “Fine. Fine. I actually don’t give a fuck. I can perfectly well do this alone. I’m actually just trying to be open-hearted and invite you in here. I mean, it’d actually probably be simpler to go alone, but I want to offer you guys a fucking ticket to the escape pod.”

“Nice fucking guy, huh?” Rome chortled.

Finally, the ball dropped. “You’re happy he went over your head and put in Gerri?” 

Roman’s expression fell. You knew he’d wanted the job. “I think Gerri is a good choice.” Shiv laughed, and Roman defensively spat out, “What?”

“Defend Dad all you want, but Gerri can look after herself.”

“Yeah, I know that, I’m not defending Gerri, I just—”

Shiv sat up straighter. “You can’t hide under the covers with Mommy.”

Roman shifted back a step. “Oh, fuck off, Siobhan.”

“No, no, let’s talk about it. You always need someone to hold your fucking hand. You use Gerri as protection, and then you run off to Y/N every time something just barely inconveniences you. You just love showing your pee-pee to everyone but someday, you know, you’re actually gonna have to fuck something.”

His nose twitched. “Fuck you. Bitch.” With that, he made his way to the door and stormed out of the room.

You and Connor both called after him, but he was already gone. 

“Okay… that was… that was low, Shiv,” said Con, frowning. 

“That was an overreaction!” she exclaimed.

Huffing, Connor shook his head. “Can we just try to keep things nice? Yeah?” He patted your shoulder again. “I’ll go check on him.” 

“It’s not my fault he’s got a sex thing,” Shiv laughed. “Was I too harsh?”

“You kidding? He loves it. He’s probably out there jerking off, wearing my ex-wife’s panties.”

You buried your face in your hands, pulling exasperatedly. “You guys are fucking assholes. You’re fucking two-faced, Shiv, and Kendall, you’re just… you’re just using us. Fuck. “Media appearance”? Give me a fucking break.”

With that, you stood up from the bed and made your way out of the room. Worry scratched away at your chest for Roman. You stepped into the living room, expecting to see him lingering around there, but you heard Connor’s voice echoing down the hall. He was standing in front of the closed bathroom door, a hand on the gilded doorknob, the other rapping against the wood lightly.

“Rome?” he asked. “You okay?” 

“Go away,” his muffled voice replied from the other side.

You stepped forward, right next to Connor. “Hey, Romeo?”

There was a pause. Then the door swung open.

“Hi,” you said, mustering up a tired grin. 

“Hi,” he said. Roman tried his best to mirror your smile, but failed miserably.

“You okay, Rome?” Connor asked again.

He shrugged, scratching at the back of his head. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just needed to piss. Am I not allowed to do that?”

Finally, you ambled another step forward and enveloped Roman into a tight hug. “What Shiv said isn’t true, you know. I’m the one that ran to you this time.”

Roman mumbled something into your shoulder, but you didn’t quite catch it. Maybe it was an off-handed thanks. At least, that’s what you hoped he said.

Connor smiled at the two of you with a huff, clapping a hand on each of your shoulders. “Maybe it’s time to head back. I don’t think we’re done discussing things. Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

With that, you let go of Roman and nudged him back in the direction of Sophie’s bedroom. 

As soon as he made his way back in, Shiv met his gaze with a half-beam, half-grimace etched across her features. “Sorry,” she said. She didn’t really sound all that sorry.

“For what? I went to the bathroom,” Roman dismissively replied. “I don’t give a shit. You whore.”

Shiv smiled, and he grinned back. Haughtily, he snatched up your hand and crowded you into sitting down on the loveseat with him. He swung a leg up to throw over your thighs and you traced aimless circles along his shin. 

“Here’s how I see this,” Kendall started up, “Dad is complicated. But he did, or he let, bad stuff happen. Yeah? And now it’s a part of us and our sickness, and we have to take responsibility because we knew. This is our chance to pay our dues and wash our hands for absolution.

You narrowed your eyes. Knew? 

Thinking along the same lines as you, Shiv snorted out a derisive sound. “Okay, well… I didn’t know.”

“Sure, whatever, but—yeah, you did,” Kendall said. 

“No, obviously we didn’t know,” Shiv exclaimed. “Did you guys know?”

“No,” you were quick to say. “What kind of question is that?”

Roman leaned further back into the seat. “No, we didn’t know.”

Incredulous, Kendall rounded his gaze onto the two of you. “The fucking pipeline of sad dancers who got used and abused and promised some Hollywood bullshit? We all fucking knew.” 

Brows cinching together, Roman acquiesced by saying, “Yeah, well, I kinda knew about… you know, that there was some—but I didn’t know about any of the actual fucking… the fucking shit that went down. I really didn’t.”

“Come on, guys,” Connor said. “We knew.”

“Maybe you guys did,” you protested. “But I didn’t fucking know. I was a kid! We were kids!”

“But we still fucking knew! Okay? And I—I don’t like all this fucking bullshit!” Kendall propped his hands on his hips, staring down at his siblings.

“What did we fucking know?” Roman asked. 

“Yeah!” 

Leaning closer to his sister, Connor said, “Listen, I’m obviously not saying that you guys are responsible. But, come on. The guys, Dad, Mo—the wolf pack.”

“We knew,” Kendall parroted. “All those jokes and the weird vibes to the women and to the grubby fat-asses who took the cruises. The blind eyes and the pay-offs and the hush-hush about Dad’s pals or foreign workers who got crushed like—like meat in a fucking grinder with zero training! And, you know, no, it wasn’t our fault. And if you want to pretend that your shit doesn’t stink, be my guest, but we fucking knew.”

Solemn, Connor nodded. “We knew what those guys in Dad’s study were laughing about.”

Hotly, you said, “How many times do I have to say it? I didn’t know that the dancers were being sexually harassed! That—that fucking workers were being grilled under terrible work conditions! And I sure as hell didn’t know anything about these million-dollar pay-offs you love to parade around without actually showing us.”

Shiv drew in a breath. “We didn’t know what they were laughing about.”

“Don’t get in the pool with Mo?” Connor asked. “Remember that?”

“Well, yeah, that just sounds like fucking common sense,” you replied. “It was all so… grey. There were so many rumors. I just—I didn’t know if what Mo did actually happened or just a part of a huge fucking joke.”

“Yeah. And I didn’t get in the pool with any of those creeps,” said Shiv.

Kendall nodded, “Yeah, because he let those creeps run cruises.”

“No, Kendall, because I was fifteen!” Shiv finally asserted. “Y/N said it before—we were kids! Y/N was barely fourteen! We were hardly ever around them, and when we were, they were talking about shit we didn’t understand, and we didn’t want to understand. Because we were teenagers, and they were creepy old men that constantly told us about how mature we were for our age. Obviously we didn’t know what they were talking about, because we didn’t even want to know.”

Waving his sister’s words away, Kendall stressed, “Well, you know now, right?”

“Of course I fucking know now, that’s why we’re here in the first place!” Shiv yelled.

A beat of silence. 

Kendall’s shoulders squared. “This is all a sidebar. Okay? All I’m asking is for us to move forward from a position of truth.” 

“Are we excluded from this kingdom of heaven unless we accept the one true truth?” Shiv asked.

His phone dinged with a text message, and Kendall reached down to pull it out of his pocket. His kids were here.

“Look, I just wanna go hug my kids. Okay? I’ll be right back.” He started back out, making his way to the door. “We don’t even need to get into this. This is just sideshit.”

Once he was gone, Roman’s hand rested against the side of your face, gently pulling your head down to rest against his shoulder.

“We were kids,” you mumbled tiredly. Blurry memories of leering, smoking men and jaunty laughter crossed your mind. “How could I have known?”

Roman hummed, but he said nothing more.

“So… where are we at?” Shiv asked. Her question seemed to be directed at anyone in particular, but her eyes were on you.

“I don’t know. I don’t trust him. He clearly doesn’t trust us,” you said, pursing your lips.

Roman nodded. “We’re just hearing him out—then we report. It’s simple, Siobhan.”

“Right. Yeah. We gotta protect Dad… because if we knifed him now, he’d just bleed out, so…”

Roman reared his head back. “Hm. I don’t know about that.”

“Well, it’s just true. It’s a statement of fact.”

“Is it, though?” Roman wrinkled his nose. “It’s not necessarily true. This is Dad. He’s like fucking—fucking Moby Dick. He could take us all down with his back riddled with harpoons.”

Scoffing, Shiv arched a brow. “Yeah? You think he can take on all of us? If we back Ken, he’s toast. I’m not saying we should do it—we just need to decide what the fuck we’re gonna do because this is our moment.”

Finally, Roman’s features softened. He gave you a nudge. “What do you think?”

You bit down on the inside of your cheek. “If all of us back Kendall, that’d spook Karl and Frank onto our side. Gerri, maybe. The board… they’ll be split at first, but I think most of them would be swayed with enough convincing. I don’t know. It’s hard to gauge.”

“It’s very hard to imagine him surviving if we allied,” Connor agreed.

“Yeah. Sure, it’s his board, but it’s a lot of fresh blood. A lot of fear. I think if we pulled a pin today, and tomorrow, we got a spooked board. We could win.”

Tilting your head, you asked her, “I’m confused, do you or do you not want to back Kendall?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“On you guys!”

Roman shook his head. “My only concern with stabbing Dad in the back—it might actually kill him.”

You thought back to how scared and worried the two of you were when Logan was in the hospital. Certainly not something you wanted to relive.

It was then that the door opened once again, and Kendall stepped in. “So—where are we?”

“Okay. Let’s say you win, and take Dad out. I don’t see us coming through in the proxy battle. Shareholders don’t like confusion—they’ll pull out the moment they realize the condom ripped. How does the family stay in control?” Shiv asked.

“We give Dad the revolver, show him to the office, proxy battle is over,” Kendall stated matter-of-factly. “Sandy and Stewy will back down. I’ve spoken with them.”

“Busy fucking bee,” Roman snorted.

Bobbing his head, Kendall said, “If Dad went fast enough, we’d have a settlement. Look, guys, I don’t know what I think about Dad. Uh… I love him, I hate him—I’ll outsource it to my therapist. But he was going to send me to jail, you know. He’d do the same to you, Rome. Con. Shiv, I don’t know. Maybe. Don’t you guys see that? Y/N—he’ll… he’ll fucking throw you to the sharks if he needed to. I mean, how many years have you been scurrying around doing all of the yardwork for him?”

You met Kendall’s intense gaze, but you remained silent.

It was Roman who spoke instead: “Well, what would the shape of this new fucking reality be, anyway? Us leapfrogging Amazon?”

“Oh, yeah. We’re looking at 323 BC, naturally. Alexander’s dead. I take Asia, Rome takes Egypt, Shiv takes Europe, Y/N has the Americas, North and South. Con—the rest of the world.”

Connor smiled. “Thanks.”

“Separate divisions. I could oversee us as CEO on paper as we shift to these spheres of influence and evaluate what the core is. We move forward—”

A migraine began to pulse in Roman’s temple and he rubbed his head gingerly. “You’re overseeing us?”

A second of silence. “I’d offer my leadership initially as a—as a necessary part of a transformation process, yes.”

“You’d do that for us?” Roman mocked in a baby-voice. “Oh, you’re so generous! Thanks, Ken!”

“No! In your position, it just doesn’t work,” Shiv protested.

“It’s a stretch,” winced Connor in agreement.

“Stretch?” Roman scoffed. “It’s a fucking scrotum over a timpani drum!”

Shiv straightened her posture. “If I were to back you against Dad, I would need to take over.”

Both you and Rome made noises of surprise.

“What? Woah!” Roman chuckled and you drew in a cold inhale through your teeth.

“Shiv, I’m sorry, there’s absolutely no way you’d be able to steer us out of this mess—” you began.

“What? And you could?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed, thinking back to the phone call you had with Logan in the hotel. “But I’m not going to. I don’t want the fucking top job. I’m looking at this from a neutral perspective, okay? You wouldn’t work.”

Kendall nodded vehemently. “You don’t have the experience, Shiv. It wouldn’t be possible. I wish it was, but it isn’t.”

“Come on, you’re a busted flush! I’m the only person who can reform!”

“You’re too divisive,” Kendall said. Shiv’s lips parted in offense. “I mean, I don’t see you this way, but people see you as the token woman, wonk, woke, snowflake. I don’t think that, but the market does.”

“Jesus Christ,” you mumbled, pinching the space between your brows.

“What? That’s bullshit!” she bit out, volume raising a notch.

Snickering beneath his breath, Roman said, “It’s true, I just spoke to the market. That’s exactly what they think.”

“Guys, listen. We’d get new directors, and a clean broom. And then we can figure out how to split the spoils.”

Shiv pursed her lips. “I have some calls to make,” she finally said, getting up from the bed. “But this stays in here, yeah?”

“Absolutely,” Roman said.

“Yeah,” both you and Connor mumbled.

With that, she left the room.

Roman slipped away from you, saying something about taking his own call. You watched him go curiously, though you were already pretty certain he was going to call Gerri for her opinion, seeing as she was CEO now. With a nod to Kendall and Connor, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom.

You strode down the hall and shut the door behind you. The mirror above the sink’s reflection stared back at you, nearly unrecognizable. You looked so tired. Clothes wrinkled, hair disheveled, eyebags dark. All you wanted to do was go home and crawl into your own bed.

You sniffed, though you weren’t crying. You wanted to cry, though. A cry-session sounded really nice right about now. You blinked once, then twice. No tears, still.

Dejected, you went about your business, before rinsing your hands clean and stepping out to the rest of the siblings gathered in the living room now, all standing around a white box of donuts.

“Someone ordered dessert?” you asked with a mild laugh, quirking a brow at Roman. 

“Wasn’t me,” he said, jerking his head to Connor, who had a card in his hand.

“Dad sent donuts. Perfectly innocent, safe-to-eat donuts,” the oldest of the group announced. He lifted up the card. “He wants us all to have a nice tea party.”

Shiv glanced around shiftily. “What the fuck? Ken—did you tell him?”

“Shiv, come on,” he replied. “Why would I tell him?”

“To make him distrust us and force us to back you?” you offered, peering over at the donuts. Connor reached over to take out a glazed chocolate one from the center.

“I wouldn’t eat that,” Shiv told his brother. 

Incredulous, Connor said, “You really think he’d send poisoned donuts to the house of his grandchildren?”

“Yeah, I’m, like, ninety-eight percent sure those aren’t poisoned,” Roman chimed. 

Kendall shook his head. “Okay, guys. These aren’t relevant—”

“Oh, no. No, no, no, these are really relevant donuts,” Roman protested.

Ignoring him, Kendall held up his phone. “Do we wanna? Guys—are we in? I’ll make the call right now. We can say it tonight. It’ll be over. New dawn.”

A terse silence settled over the rest of you.

“Con, stop staring at the fucking donuts, man. Focus!”

With that, the eldest sibling dropped the card on top of the donuts. “I’m out,” he said.

Kendall’s eye seemed to twitch. “Alright, then. You’re irrelevant, anyway.”

“Hey, fuck you.”

“Go on. Leave. You’re not wanted. You’re not wanted, Connor! Leave!”

“Don’t be fucking mean, Kendall,” you snapped. 

Roman shook his head. “Yeah, as if he hasn’t heard that enough already.”

“I just don’t wanna destroy Dad. I’m a national figure. It’s not right to kill one’s father.”

“Yeah, you’re a prick!”

You shot Connor an apologetic glance, but he simply shook his head, gathered his jacket, and took his leave.

Kendall then rounded on his younger brother. “Roman. Come on, man. Let’s do this.”

“Uhm… pass.”

“Pass? Why?”

Roman pulled a sour face, as if he’d just licked a lemon. “A number of reasons, really.”

“Like what? You think I can’t win? Dude—we can win this together. We’ll fucking win! There’s enough for us all, Rome.”

“I told you. I’m with Dad. I always have been.”

Shaking his head, Kendall spat out, “You’re a fucking moron.”

“Don’t call him that!” You bristled. He sounded just like his father. 

Kendall looked to his sister. “Forget them, Shiv.”

“I’m with Dad,” she said, plainly. Roman laughed, and Kendall’s expression fell.

“Why?” he asked.

She crossed her arms and shrugged. “Why? I don’t need to tell you.”

“Yes, you fucking do! Is it the goddamn donuts? Have you been spooked by fucking donuts? That’s pathetic, Shiv! Why? You owe me an explanation!”

Shiv tossed her head back and laughed at the irony. “Oh, yeah! Because you’ve always been so careful to keep me informed.”

“What is it? You don’t believe me?” he asked. “Obviously, you believe me! So you’re literally doing the wrong thing over the right thing here?”

Her eyes were intense on her brother. Exhaling lowly, Shiv said, “I can see that you’re angry, but don’t project your disappointment onto me. I should go.”

“Is it cowardice or avarice? I just wanna know,” Kendall called out. “Is it because you won’t take over? Is that it? Good luck with sleeping on that, Shiv.”

“Fuck you, plastic Jesus.”

“You’re a fucking twat.”

“I was the one you wanted. Rome and Connor don’t even matter to you,” she said.

“Yeah, because you’re the fucking token girl! Girls count double now, didn’t you know?”

“No, I know.” There was a crack in her voice. “I fucking know.”

“It’s only your teats that give you any value! You’re calling it wrong, Shiv. You’re fucking over the victims. I hope you know that! Well done, you dipshit!”

She shot you and Roman narrowed glances, before sauntering out of Rava’s apartment.

Finally, Kendall turned to you. His last hope. He stepped closer to you, until he was just in front of you. “Y/N, just listen. You—we could make this work. You’d be the fucking—the fucking glue. The brains. You’re good at this. You know people, you have connections. It could work. You don’t need them.”

“I don’t trust you,” you whispered. 

And there it was. There were the tears. Stinging the corner of your eyes and just barely blurring your vision. Only this time, you didn’t want to cry. Not in front of Kendall. 

Kendall took your hands loosely, and you couldn’t find it in you to pull away just yet. Roman watched on with part caution, part disgust. 

“Remember—remember when we were kids and I told you that I would be leading the company one day? That you could be there with me? Remember that? And you made me swear to give you all the fucking strawberry popsicles you wanted. You could have it all, Y/N. It’s so fucking close.”

You remembered. Of course you did. “I don’t know, Kendall. I don’t remember.” Swallowing, you pulled your hands away from his. “You’ll just use me, Kendall. You’ll just use me and then toss me to the side.”

“That’s what Dad is doing to you right now. I’m not like him. I won’t do that.”

Your expression hardened and you wiped away the tears. “I can’t back you.”

For a moment, you wondered if Kendall was going to scream.

“Fine,” he said, eerily quiet. “You’re an asshole. Both of you.”

Roman took your hand and began to tug you to the elevator.

“You’re all pricks. Fucking idiots. You don’t know what the hell you’re doing!”

He kept calling you and his siblings a variety of colorful insults, but they all blurred into white noise when Roman hurried you into the elevator, his arm wound around your waist.

“Home?” you asked. You were so, very tired.

He nodded. “Home.”

“Will you stay over?”

He kissed your head, chaste and barely there. “Yeah. Sure.”

The company’s annual shareholding meeting started early in the morning. It’d been a few weeks since the eventful night at Rava’s place, and you’d been swamped with work ever since then. Shiv had been promoted to President of Domestic Operations—which was just a fancy title that meant little to nothing—and shortly after, the FBI had raided the company building.

Yeah. All sunshine and rainbows at Waystar right about now.

A vote would completely be slanted away from the Roys, and that only left them with the option of negotiation with Stewy and Sandi.

“We’re gonna lose the company,” said Shiv, hands propped on her hips. “We’re going to lose the fucking company today.”

The rest of you were sitting around on the couches, waiting for Logan to arrive. He was late, as he often was nowadays.

Roman tugged at the lapels of your dark blue pantsuit, wrangling your attention back to him. He offered you a wry smile. “Say, if I lose my job here, do you think I could find work behind a cash register at Target?”

“Haven’t you heard? All those jobs are being taken up by broke college students with at least two bachelor's degrees under their belt,” you dryly replied. He barked out something akin to a laugh. Since he was straightening out your suit for you, you reached out to fix his loosely-knotted tie. Once you were done, you patted his cheek fondly and pulled your hands away. 

It was then that Logan came ambling through the entrance, clutching a dark cane in one hand and Kerry right behind him. 

“There he is. The big beast,” Roman said. “Ready to kick ass with his ass-kicking boot.”

“You heard?” Shiv queried him, without bothering to even say hello. “You know where we’re at?”

Logan stared at his daughter for a good few seconds. “Uh-huh,” he finally said, stoutly. Then, he looked to senior management. “Karl? Gerri?”

The man shrugged. “Uh… I guess we have to delay the vote. Squeeze Sandy and Stewy’s airtime. Run the long versions of the speeches. ”

Gerri spoke up, “I emailed a list of assigned shareholders for last minute persuasion.”

“Good, good. Yes,” Logan said. He sounded winded.

Brows furrowing, Shiv incredulously asked, “That’s it? There’s nothing else we can do?” There was an anxious lilt to her voice.

“What about the Raisin?” Logan asked. The president.

Shiv, Tom, and Cyd scrambled to answer for him, and he barked out a few more orders, before taking a seat.

Gerri’s phone began to ring, and her eyes widened when she checked the caller ID. “It’s Stewy Hosseini,” she said. “Should I take it?”

Wordless, Logan nodded once. 

The call was short, but brief. Gerri’s eyes were narrowed and calculating when she hung up.

“They want to meet up,” she announced. “They have thoughts.”

Head tilting, Roman asked, “Thoughts? What kind of thoughts?”

“Ideas for a deal space around a settlement,” Gerri told the group.

“Fucking A! That’s great!” exclaimed Roman, before he was cut off by his father.

“Why have they suddenly decided to settle?” he asked, voice low.

Shiv replied, “Well, because they know it’s the smartest move?”

“Or they’ve had bad news,” Logan said. “What do they know that we don’t?”

You bit down on the inside of your cheek. “Well—we’d find out when we speak to them.”

Logan shook his head. “No. I’m not doing a tap dance. Shiv, Karl, Gerri, Y/N, Romulus—go and report back.”

Lifting a hand, Frank offered, “I think that’s smart. Yeah. But, uhm, Gerri should be out front helming, so should I go?”

“We nail you to the cross, Frank, alright?” Logan dismissed. “Let Sandy do the soft shoe. He’s wriggling. Let’s screw them out.”

The hotel you were meeting them at was lavish and over-the-top—you expected nothing less from Sandy and Stewy. 

Inside the elevator up, Roman queried, “Does Sandy really have syphilis? What if he has sores all over his body? What if his groin’s all eaten away and the top half of him just falls off?”

“That’s disgusting, Rome,” you said, wrinkling your nose.

He stuck his tongue out at you. “You’re disgusting, fuck-face,” he shot back, childishly.

Gerri hummed. “I think we started that syphilis rumor.”

Raising a brow, you exchanged a look with Roman, neither of you all that surprised. Gerri was a cutthroat, cold-stoned bitch (in Roman’s words), and she’s definitely done worse than starting up a few nasty rumors.

“Late stage symptom is dementia, I believe,” said Karl, tucking his phone away into his back pocket.

Roman laughed. “You been doing some late night, panicky googling, Karl?”

With that, the elevator doors slid open, and the group filed out down the hall. A hotel employee showed you into one of the larger suites, where Sandy, Sandi, and Stewy were situated amongst plush seats. 

“Hey,” Sandi greeted with a cautious smile. “Thanks for coming. My father is very excited to see you all.”

You glanced at her father, who was slumped over on a wheelchair and silent. It seemed his condition had worsened much more than you expected. You took a seat beside Gerri, and Shiv stiffly eased down next to you. Roman lingered behind, far too restless to sit.

“Look,” said Stewy, pulling your attention away from the older man to him, “after careful consideration, if we can make a deal here, we’re willing to agree to a standstill. No takeover. Provided we lead on deal-making options moving forward, we’ll accede to a continuation of combined Chairman and CEO roles, so that’d be all yours.”

“I think that sounds reasonable,” said Gerri. 

“And the three board seats?” Stewy asked. His eyes darted from the siblings, to you, to Gerri and Karl.

Nodding, Shiv said, “Including yours? We can do that right now—I have my dad’s authorization to go there.”

“Would you be willing to sign off on this?” you asked. Stewy’s gaze met yours, mildly amused. “We’d like something physical to hold onto.”

Sandi then leaned forward when her father began to mumble under his breath, too quiet for you to decipher from where you were sitting. 

“He wants our costs covered,” Sandi finally said. That was reasonable. Then, she added, “And… veto right over any Roy family member ever taking over as CEO.”

Your brows furrowed. Gerri seemed just as taken aback by this condition as you were. 

“Stewy?” she asked, hoping he’d give some sort of clarification.

“That’s what the man said,” Stewy replied languidly. “It’s a very important protection for us.”

Wincing, Roman scratched at the back of his head. “I feel like I just have to put it out there and say it, since there’s a eighty-five billion dollar baby on the table here… how do I know he’s not your… meat puppet?”

The term made you think of Kendall before he’d waged war on his own father. 

Sandi smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I just do what my dad tells me, like you guys.”

“You mind if we take a beat?” Gerri asked, standing up. You stood with her, following her to the next room. Stewy said something snarky, but you consciously chose not to listen.

Karl ducked his head and whispered, “Well, I mean, other than the new proposal, it’s a very, very attractive prospect.”

Shiv frowned and incredulously bit out, “I’m sorry, but there’s nothing to discuss. It fucks us and it’s designed to humiliate dad!”

“It’s all just optics,” Gerri defended. “I’m not sure it’d even stand up.”

“You could probably work around it if it ever came to it!” Karl piped in.

“Uhm, with all due respect, Gerri—get bent,” said Roman. 

Shaking her head, she reasoned, “I know it’s humiliating, and I’m sure your dad would agree, but given where we’re at, I have to check in with him. Sorry, excuse me.”

With that, she stepped away to call Logan.

“Is she gonna fuck us?” Shiv asked. 

Roman pulled a face. “No. I don’t know.”

“Logan’s not going to say yes,” you murmured. “He wouldn’t allow it. It’s pride over everything, no?”

Shiv shot you a sharp look, but she didn’t say anything. From farther away, Gerri hung up the phone and made her way back to Stewy.

“We will meet your costs, but… no veto,” she told them. Of course—Logan wouldn’t refuse to be the first to bend the knee.

Sandy began murmuring again, and Sandi leaned in to listen. 

“We need the veto,” she said once she backed away.

“Is there no alternative shape here?” Gerri queried, shaking her head.

Growing frustrated, Shiv said, “Come on, Sandi. We all want this to work.”

With one final lean-in, Sandi nodded her head at her father’s mumbled words.

“We’re gonna go have a think. But, uhm… it’d be a shame if all this hard work is destroyed over a small detail,” she finally concluded. “Thanks for coming to see us.”

You blew out a breath and scratched at the back of your head—a habit that you seemed to pick up from Roman.

The two of you began walking out, and Gerri caught up, just a step behind. “Sorry, about back there—”

“About what? Trying to fuck me over to consolidate your position?” 

“No. It just seemed to make sense. Business-wise.”

Roman shot her a glance over his shoulder. “Throwing me overboard to drown? You picked your prince, Gerri, don’t fuck it up now.” He began to walk faster, and you gave her an apologetic shrug. 

“We got this in the bag, Gerri. Don’t—don’t worry about Roman.” 

She patted your shoulder with a reassured smile. “I can count on you to keep him in line, right?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

With one final nod, you jogged ahead to catch up with Roman, linking your arm with his. 

“Hey, stompy,” you greeted, bumping your hip into his. “Stop pouting. Gerri was just trying to broker a deal. It’s not her fault they suddenly wanted a veto right.”

“I know. I’m just fucking—worried that I’m making the wrong choices all the time.”

“Yeah. But you’re doing okay. We’ll be fine. Everything’s going to blow over in a few months, just watch.”

The corner of Roman’s lips tilted into a lopsided smile, and hummed out that hyena-laugh of his. “You are so fucking fake. Y’know what the fucking Gen-Z’ers are calling it now? Toxic positivity. That’s what you are. A barrel of toxic, radioactive, neon-yellow smiley emojis. I love it. Never change.”

He kissed your cheek then, sounding out an obnoxious ‘mwah!’ before tugging you into the elevator.

By the time you rejoined Logan, Karolina, and Tom (hell, even Greg was there), Gerri’s phone began to ring again.

“It’s Sandi.”

“Which one?” Connor asked.

“The one that can talk,” Gerri deadpanned. She gave Logan a confirming glance, before answering it. Her expression rippled with incredulity and apprehension. “Uh… are you sure about that? Alright, but—seriously?”

With one final sigh, she hung up the call.

“They have one more proviso,” she told the group. “They want to take away the private jets.”

“What? No!” Roman protested.

“They said it’s elitist and out of touch.”

A frown crossed his face. “Duh-doy, but—no. They’re just trying to humiliate him.” He gestured to his father, who was slumped in a chair, eyes staring aimlessly at the ground.

“Was it real or were they just basting the turkey?” asked Karl.

“I don’t think Sandy’s the kind to be pulling a prank on us, Karl,” you said, pinching the space between your brows. “It’s gotta be real.”

Gesturing emphatically, Shiv said, “Let’s just eat it, Dad. You can tell them to fuck off later.”

“Yeah, we can just offer to cut personal use, or put on a mileage cap,” offered Karl.

“No!” Roman protested once more. “We give them this—first they come for the PJs and we say nothing, then they come for the outsized compensation payments, you know? This is—no. This is bullshit. They’ll back down, they won’t blow it over this. Right?”

He looked at you, and you lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. They’re fishing for something here, but we still have to take them seriously.”

“Dad?” Roman asked.

The older man was silent for a long time.

“Hm.” He paused, glancing around. His eyes were glazed over. “I need to piss.”

“Oh,” said Shiv, uncertain. “Do you… do you need some help, or should I reach out and call—?”

Logan ignored her, and pointed at Tom. “You.” He loosely gestured at the rest of you. “Stay.”

“You want to make a decision now, before you go? Dad?” Shiv called out after him, but he was already walking away.

“Is he—is he okay?” you whispered into Roman’s ear. “He doesn’t look too good.”

Roman pulled a sour face. “He’s fine. He looks fine. Why, you think something’s wrong with him?”

“Well, I don’t know, he’s just acting so weird. This is—this is a big fucking deal and he’s been shrugging it off like it’s chopped liver.” At Roman’s worried look, you gripped his arm and squeezed comfortingly. “I mean, I don’t know, though. Maybe he’s okay.”

Nearly fifteen minutes later, you were about to eat your own words. 

Logan was most certainly not okay. When he came back, he was out of breath, and his eyes were unfocused.

“What’s it gonna be, Logan?” Gerri asked. “We need an answer.”

“Uh-huh.”

“What do you think? Yes or no?”

A staggered exhale and a wild look around. “Fuck ‘em,” he finally spat out.

Shock spilled over the group. Shiv made noises of protest.

“Fuck ‘em!” he repeated, gruffer this time.

“I—are you sure, Dad? That’s… you sure you wanna do this?” Shiv asked.

His breathing was getting heavier and heavier. It was clear to you that business was the last thing Logan should be thinking about right now. You stepped forward, concern splayed over your features.

“Uncle Logan, are you okay?” you asked, under your breath. He didn’t give you an answer, but you took his arm to slowly lead him to a seat. It didn’t go past your notice that he was sweltering hot and trembling quite a bit—you could feel the heat and the quaking through the fabric of his suit. 

Despite the fact that he was in no state of mind to be negotiating, Gerri and Shiv pushed him. “Do you know something, or…? That’s a big call you’re making.”

“Pills!” Logan hissed to Colin, who came forward immediately.

“I just gave you some, sir. You need something else? Tylenol?”

Logan nodded, mumbling incoherently beneath his breath.

The rest of the group discussed what the next steps were, and a part of you wanted to join and offer your input, but you stayed by Logan’s side. 

When Colin returned with the Tylenol, you furrowed your brows and told him, “He’s, uhm, he’s really hot. Like—feels like he’s burning up. Can we—do we need to go get him a medic, or…?”

“I’m fine,” he said, waving away your words. But then he smiled at you, and that was the most surprising thing of all. “Thank you, dear.”

“Okay. Just let me know if you need anything.”

“What’s going on with the Raisin?” he asked.

Gerri, overhearing, stepped closer with cinched brows. “I’m sorry, with—with the President?”

“Can we get Ravenhead on air?” Logan queried. “Call Michelle-Anne. Tell her to get the SEC to shut this meeting down.”

It was clear that Logan was spouting out utter nonsense, and you exchanged several confused looks with the rest of the group. 

“Okay… we’ll look into that,” said Karl.

“I need a piss,” Logan announced once more. Hadn’t he gone just a few minutes ago? “Where is he?” 

Tom pointed at himself. “Who, me? Again? Yeah? Sure—okay.”

Greg, who had just returned from sending off a note to Frank on stage, came bounding back to the group, sweat and hair slightly disheveled. “You guys going off to the bathroom?” he asked Logan and Tom.

Logan stared at his grand-nephew incredulously. “What fucking business is it of yours?”

You and Roman glanced at each other. “Jesus. You were right. He’s off his rocker,” Roman whispered. 

A few minutes later, Logan staggered back with Tom helping him, and Shiv came forward to ask if he was alright. To everybody’s surprise, Logan called his daughter Marcia, and then started rambling on about a speech he was meant to give.

Tom came up to the rest of the group. “Hey, uh, hey everybody—Logan’s not really himself right now.”

Shiv rushed back after phoning Kerry. “He’s got a fucking UTI.”

“That explains it,” you said, glancing back at Logan, still murmuring something to a nodding Colin. 

“Well, is that—I mean, no, it isn’t. It’s not that fucking serious, is it?” Roman asked. He was worried, you could see it clear as day. 

“At his age? That can make you crazy!” said Connor. “Reagan had one and nearly nuked Belgium.”

“What?” Shiv asked, incredulous. “How long has he been like this? What the fuck?”

Brows furrowing, Gerri chimed in, “Was he like this when he risked the whole company?”

“Nobody hears about this,” Shiv warned, voice steely. “What do we do?”

“Get a doctor,” you said, as if it were obvious. 

“Can’t we just get him some cranberry juice and ask him about the deal again?” Roman asked.

Tom shook his head. “He was just asking for Caroline.” 

“Oh,” said Roman, mock-pouting. “Aw. He misses mom.”

“He’s gone mad,” Shiv blew out. 

“Well, we don’t actually know when he got this way. We don’t!” Roman said. 

“No, no, I think he’s been piss-mad for quite some time,” Tom interjected, glancing back at Logan. “Shiv, do you think—should you overrule him? Go back to Sandy and Stewy and say we’ve changed our minds?”

You sucked in a deep breath. “Logan’ll be furious.”

“How can he be furious when he can’t even tell me apart from his wife?” Shiv shot back. 

Haughtily, you told her, “I’m saying when he’s gotten through it, he’ll be angry that you went over his back—!”

Before you could finish, Hugo came running up. “Guys—he insists that he still has to give his speech.” He hurried off when Logan called his name. Or, a garbled version of it.

“Can he give his speech?” Karolina asked. 

“What? The demented fucking piss-mad King of England?” Roman responded with a scoff. 

“He could say anything up there. No fucking way,” Shiv asserted. “I say we drop it. Right?”

“But at the very least, he should be onstage,” persisted Gerri.

Karl nodded along. “It would be great to get the body up there.”

“Right. Like a human fucking spectacle,” you said, cocking your head. “You don’t think people would find it weird that he’s up there and not saying anything?”

“Okay, we’ll just push it as late as we can, and maybe if we can just get him on stage, that’d be enough?” Shiv proposed.

Connor laughed. “Oh, yeah, maybe send him up through a trapdoor surrounded by dry ice.”

“Where is this doctor, anyway?” Gerri asked.

With no time for anyone to reply, Hugo hustled back to the group, expression twisted with uncertainty. “Uhm… he’s concerned there is a dead cat under his chair.”

Everybody blinked, clueless. 

“Great,” said Shiv. “That’s great.”

“Well, is there anything under his chair?” Gerri whispered, ducking her head to check herself. 

You stared at your godfather from afar, watching as he vehemently gestured down below his seat. 

“He says that, uh, he doesn’t want Rose to see it,” said Hugo. “And he wants Colin to take it out.”

Rose. The name sounded familiar, something you’ve surely heard in passing, but you couldn’t quite place who she was.

Clearly, Roman was beginning to grow more and more agitated, and he gritted out, “Fine. Have Colin take it out. Jesus Christ.”

Finally, Kerry arrived, hurrying to grab her bag, mumbling something about doctors and pills and secrecy. As if to make it even worse, Kendall appeared out of nowhere, and Shiv let out a long and loud string of curses.

“Great—hey, who invited you?” Roman sneered at his older brother.

Kendall ignored him. “What the fuck is going on? He’s squashing the fucking deal?”

“It’s fine! It’s fucking fine—we got it under control,” Roman vehemently pressed, though it didn’t sound too convincing with Logan in the back yelling for the cat to be carried away. The cat that didn’t, in fact, exist.

“You have to turn this around right now!” Kendall yelled. 

“We’re figuring it out,” Shiv told him.

Logan screeched again and grumbled incoherently, shifting on his chair.

“What—what the fuck is going on with him?” asked Kendall.

“The doctor’s coming, Ken,” you tried to reassure him, but he shook his head.

“No, no, I want to know what’s wrong with him!”

Colin hurried away with an empty box—supposedly holding the dead cat. A part of you wondered if this dead cat was a distant memory from Logan’s past. Maybe he was trapped in a fragment of time he could never quite move on from.

“What is that?” Kendall took a few steps to follow after Colin, but halted to look back at his siblings in utter confusion. “Guys, what—?”

“Can you just leave, please?” Roman hissed. “That is an imaginary cat, now can you please fuck off?”

Raising his voice, Kendall addressed the entire group, voice stricken and strained, “Listen to me very carefully. This is you throwing it away. You think they’re bluffing? They’re not fucking bluffing! And you’re putting everything I have fought and bled for on the fucking edge and I am not gonna let that happen! Do you understand me?”

“You’re not welcome here,” Shiv said, cold. “You have no right to be here.”

“Fucking fix it!” he yelled. Kendall sounded like his father.

“You may go! You’re excused!” Roman told him. “Thank you very much for your concern, please go.”

You and Connor stayed silent, watching the other three scream at each other.

“Go! You’re fucking delusional!” shouted Roman. “There’s a fucking delusional man leaving here!”

Kendall began to walk away, but not without screaming back, “Figure out a fucking doctor or I’m calling mine!”

“Thank you so much for your concern, like you give a flying shit!” Roman spat back. “You probably slipped him something, Putin! You piece of shit! Fuck off!” 

It was a game of tug-of-war, and both sides were backing into a cliff’s edge.

Roman was taking out his frustrations and his fear onto his brother, and you stepped forward, placing a hand on his chest.

“Hey, Rome, that’s enough. He’s—he’s leaving, okay? Bye, Kendall.” You brushed a stray strand of his hair away from his forehead. “It’s fine. You need to… you need to take a beat.”

Roman pulled a pained expression, his features crumpling under the weight of stress. He nodded several times, before crossing his arms and walking off to get himself a swig of water. 

When the doctor finally arrived, you pointed him towards Logan, quickly explaining what he’s been like for the past half an hour. He nodded and got to work, pulling out a few medical instruments to check up on Logan.

“So—how is he?” Shiv asked the doctor.

“I’ll put him on some fluids to hydrate him—it should be pretty quick.”

“Will he definitely be okay?” Roman asked

The doctor didn’t have the chance to reply when Shiv cut in, “But how quick, exactly?”

“Well… he’s not a cup of instant noodles.”

“Sure, but can we speed it up? Like a—a blood bag or an adrenaline shot?”

Roman scowled. “Geez, take it easy. You wanna give him a fucking Tabasco suppository?”

“Fuck you! It’s what he’d want,” Shiv defensively replied.

“Fuck you, too. The main thing is that we look after him, okay?” Roman slung an arm over your waist and you leaned into him with a sigh. 

“Obviously, I agree.”

“Oh, do you, though? Sounded like you want to jumpstart our father like he’s a fucking pick-up truck!” Roman uneasily glanced at Logan, who’d fallen asleep on the chair. “Shit. Can you guys call us when he’s less… scary?”

With that, Roman dragged you away from the group. You could still feel Shiv’s angry eyes burning into your back.

“Where are we going?”

“Bathroom.”

“And do you want me to aim your penis for you?” you asked, laughing slightly. “Why are you making me come with you?”

Roman shot you a loose grin. “I could come up with twenty different sex jokes with what you just said. But I’m not going to, because I’m a gentleman.”

“He says, as he shoves me into the men’s bathroom,” you scoffed, before striding in and locking the door behind you. “I hope you’re not looking for a quickie here. I don’t think it’s very sanitary.”

Laughing nervously, Roman’s grip on your hand left so it could curl over your hip, tugging you close. 

“You don’t want a little distraction? Just give me five minutes,” he mumbled. His head dipped forward to kiss the junction between your neck and your shoulder. 

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not,” you whispered, so low that Roman only barely heard it.

In truth, he didn’t know, either.

“Besides, I don’t think we’d have the time, anyway. The floor is fucking lava out there,” you murmured. “Also, I wouldn’t want our first time together to be in a bathroom at a shareholder’s meeting.”

Roman smiled, almost shy, almost disbelieving. “First time? Wow. Is this your way of telling me you want to have sex with me?”

“As if you wouldn’t throw yourself on your knees begging for it,” you bit back, wrinkling your nose affectionately. Then, you cupped his face and kissed the side of his nose, leaving a faint mark of lip tint against his skin. You smiled at that. “You’re cute, Romeo. But I know you. If you wanted to have sex, you’d be dry-humping me against the sink as soon as we stepped foot in here. What is it you actually want to talk about?”

Roman blew out a heavy sigh. His hands fell away from you as he hoisted himself up onto the sink and leaned against the pristine mirror. “I wanted to come clean to you. No secrets right? During the plane ride back to New York, I called Dad. I told him I wanted the top job, but I also told him that… that you and Gerri would be my second choices if he didn’t think I was ready. I just—I wanted to know if you maybe gave him a call, too?”

There was a moment of silence.

“I did.” You bit down on the inside of your cheek. “I told him that I didn’t want it.”

“Oh.”

“And I told him that Gerri would be my choice.”

Roman’s eyes met yours. They twitched with incredulity. “And you didn’t—you didn’t mention me anywhere in there?”

“I didn’t.”

“Wow. Great fucking friend you are.”

“Rome—”

“You chose the croney over me?”

Your features hardened. “Rome. Fuck, I just… I told him I didn’t want it because I didn’t want to be marked as the token figure that roped the company out of hot water. And I don’t want that for you, either. Don’t you get it? Not to mention it’d ruin your relationship with your siblings.”

“So you just—you don’t think it’d ever be me?” Something in his voice broke.

“It could be,” you admitted. “But I don’t want it to. Not now, at least.”

There was a longer silence. Roman pulled at his face tiredly. 

You opened your mouth again, but he waved you away. “I know, I know, you didn’t offer me up because you love me and you’re trying to protect me. Thanks, fuck-face.”

He hopped off from the sink, cradling the back of your head so he could give you a chaste kiss on the forehead.

“You still up for that quickie?” you tried to joke, nudging him with a half-hearted smile.

“Sorry, I’m saving myself for Marcia. Nothing like fucking your father’s leftovers, I’d say.”

The two of you laughed and linked arms, unlocking the bathroom door to walk out and make your way back to the group.

It seemed that the two of you came back at the perfect time, because Shiv was worriedly telling everyone, “His moans are getting louder.”

“Okay, but can he do that on stage?” Hugo questioned.

“Is it a wheel-on and wave situation?” 

“Fuck, no. We’re not gonna make the piss-mad bear dance with fucking cattle prods!” Roman angrily put out. “We need to be looking after him.”

Shiv propped her hands up on her hips. “So he’s not gonna do his speech? Is that it, though? Do we just—does that mean we go down? We’d fucking give up?” She hurriedly turned and asked one of the analysts what the stats on the vote were. “God, okay. I think we should just go back to Sandy and Stewy and try to save the deal.”

“No, no. You can’t. Dad said no deal,” Roman reminded her. 

“Dad didn’t say shit, Rome!”

“He said no deal! Are you fucking deaf?”

“No, he didn’t! His urethra had wrestled control over his brain! I could at least talk to them, right? If we go to the vote, we’d probably… we’d lose. Karl? Frank? Tom?”

They all babbled incoherently—mostly in agreement. 

“Y/N?”

You pursed your lips. “Yeah. I think you should try.”

“Rome? You back this?”

Roman pinched the space between his brows. Sucking in a deep breath, he said, “Go on, yeah. Go fuck it up, you moron.”

With that, Shiv rushed away, pulling out her phone to give them a call.

Before the shareholder meeting ended, the President called and the group had Roman answer, since Logan was currently… unavailable. He was extremely upset with Logan and said that he wouldn’t be running for another term, which was a major blowback for the company, since he was the stilt to Waystar’s political survival.

It was safe to say that things were going to shit.

Then Shiv called to say that she’d finessed four seats out of the board, which was a good fucking deal, so—maybe things weren’t all that shit.

Roman wasn’t happy with going against Logan’s wishes, but he frustratedly nodded. “We’re good. We’re all good. Hold the voting.”

Everyone cheered and sighed in relief. 

When Logan came to, Gerri filled him in with all the details. He didn’t like what Shiv did, not at all, despite her defensive arguments that she’d saved the company. He yelled at her then, and everyone was quiet for a moment.

But Logan smiled at you, and patted Roman’s shoulder minutes later. He was fine, right? Things were fine.

Things were going to be okay.

#roman roy x reader #roman roy fanfiction #roman roy smut #roman roy fluff #roman roy series #roman roy ff #roman roy angst #roman roy x you #roman roy fanfic #succession roman #succession roman x reader #roman roy #succession fanfiction #succession x reader #roman roy imagine

[tips-from-a-tech-worker]

An overview of workplace organising

So you've started a new job and, unfortunately for you, there's no union. Not even a place where you and your co-workers can winge about work. So how do you resolve that? How do you Organise™?

Organising activities generally fall into the following (and often overlapping) groups:

Mapping and charting

You cannot even start organising without first understanding your workplace. Where do people work? Where are the break rooms? Who is friends with who? What positions and responsibilities do they have? How do you contact them? Etc, etc, etc.

Answering these questions is key - and often required before you can even begin talking to co-workers. Of course, this is a continuous process and, once you've got a few folks on your side, this can be a collaborative process.

One-on-ones

In organiser circles, there is a tendency to want to leaflet everywhere to announce your presence, and then immediately gather all workers together in a big meeting to then discuss unionisation efforts. This is an almost surefire way to get yourself fired and kill any appetite for organising among co-workers. On top of that, it is incredibly impersonal, shyer voices will get pushed to the side for more vocal, and potentially more conflict-driven voices.

In the IWW, the union I organise with, we emphasise the importance of one-on-one conversations, as you can find a lot more about your co-workers that way, and often things that might get lost in a huge meeting.

Of course, there is no harm in these larger meetings once you've got the ball rolling. But starting off, one-on-ones are key.

Identify movers and shakers

Some co-workers will be well-connected in the workplace. Some will be naturally more likeable than others. Some might have held social events or helped out a few other co-workers in the past. These people are your social "leaders" (for lack of a better word).

You usually want these co-workers on side as soon as you can. If you don't get them on your side, the boss or management will get them on theirs, which makes unionising efforts so much harder.

They are also very useful during organising efforts and can help out with one-on-one conversations.

Recruitment

Asking people to get involved in a union, especially in a workplace that is hostile to them, can be very tricky (and terrifying). But this is a crucial step.

Get people involved in the organising committee, create officer roles to carry out particular tasks, fill those roles democratically, and recruit your co-workers to the union.

You will actively have to reach out to people in this step. We cannot rely on the "self-starters" who are already interested and are bold enough to ask "How do I join?". A workplace is made up of everyone in it, even the shyer workers - especially the shyer workers in my experience! The union is for every worker.

Additionally, as time passes, it gets very difficult to ask people to join. Some people will start seeing benefits in their workplace but without actually putting in any of the work and think "Well, why bother?"

Planning

Once you've got a few co-workers together, have an active group of you mapping, charting, reaching out to members, and identifying issues, then you've got to start planning how to address these issues.

Pick something, anything, no matter how small. Sometimes it can be an issue where the workplace hasn't got enough office stock. Sometimes the door to the building jams and needs a couple of people to shove it open. Find the issue you want to organise around and plan how to resolve it, together.

The issue you identify can also be used to recruit more people to your cause.

Public actions

Finally, it's time to go public. But what does this look like?

I outlined a lot of actions in my previous post here. But a lot of these may be overkill depending on the issue. Sometimes you can get away with less aggressive action.

The typical way this is done is a march on the boss. This is a great way to start the escalation process and sometimes will get you what you want immediately. Of course, no action is perfect, and you'll have to get creative as the boss pushes back more and more.

In conclusion...

This was a general overview of the organising process. Of course, for brevity, a lot was skipped over. Before trying to carry any of this out, I'd recommend you take part in some form of organiser training with your respective union - the IWW Organiser 101 training is fantastic, just as an aside!

Best of luck in all your organising efforts!

Stay safe and solidarity, fellow workers! xox

#union organising #union #how to organising #how to organise #union organizing #organize #how to organize #march on the boss #iww #wobbly #tips and tricks

[that-one-creepy-hoe]

Here’s so Brian head canons because I have absolute brain rot right now. 

Warnings: NSFW, facial, somnophilia, fem!reader

Brian SFW Headcanons

There’s a lot I have to say about this man. 

For starters he’s like a perfect cutie. Like everyone thinks he’s at least a little cute. 

But I headcanon him as decently tall. Not like Ej or Lj tall but more like how he was in Marble Hornets. So probably like 6’0 to 6’2 depends on how bad he slouches.

He’s also like decently buff, not like raging muscles but enough that you can kinda see it and feel it on him

He most definitely gets a little southern accent when he’s angry

From first glance you would think with the way he jokes with Tim that he’s like an asshole type, but he is probably one of the most respectful proxies around. 

That’s not to say he isn’t mean, he just doesn't see the point in being needlessly mean when the situation doesn’t call for it.

I also think that he has just some autistic tendencies which is why he rarely talks to people. But most people around think he’s nice.

He is like the opposite to hoodie tbh

Also he’s very much aware of hoodie and tries to actively undo most bad impressions he gives people just because Brian finds it so exhausting to try and remember who Hoodie fucked with last.

If you were to end up being friends with him he’d probably do just about everything with you.

Not like how Toby would, more like the bff you automatically pick over everyone else.

He definitely would do just about anything with you no matter the time. Want him to dye your hair? He already bought dye. Want a new hair cut? He’s getting the clippers out.

Generally he’s just a odd guy who hangs out with too many smokers

NSFW

He definitely whimpers when he cums

He isn’t like Toby or Ben, but very much so occasionally whimpers when he is extremely worked up

he’s more of like a Service Dom, very much a giver rather an a receiver

He isn’t too big of a fan of quickies but isn’t completely against them

please tell this man how good his dick feels/how big he is because I’m telling you he will melt in seconds

speaking of dick—

this man isn’t massive but he definitely ain’t small

I would say he’s a nice 7.5 and decently girthy

Oh and did I mention he absolutely loves giving head?

Like this guy is a literal god at giving head

makes it his mission to please you in the best way possible

Hes a bit more experienced with girls but he does swing any way

He can be mean and dom hard if you really want it or if he’s irritated but immediately feels bad after the fact

He just lives to please you tbh

But that doesn’t mean he hates head, he just gets more out of pleasing you

But he sure does love the teary eyed whiny look on your face when you try to stuff all of him into your mouth

Oh and this man loves to watch your face, any position where he can watch you blissfully moan out in pleasure while he fucks you is the best for him

If he had to pick tho he would probably have to go with the classic missionary or cowgirl

Brian typically likes vanilla sex but does indulge into some more fun stuff

Like one of his guilty pleasures that he could never admit out loud is somnophilia

Like just something about either lazily fingering you while you sleep and feeling you get wetter just makes him rock hard in seconds

He also loves to get off with your underwear, you don’t even have to have worn it he just wants it

Like when you two first started dating and he happened to do your laundry once, he couldnt even look at your panties. The shame of his thoughts were too much for him

Oh and this man loves to breed you, and cum on your face

Just the feeling of him deep inside of you, unloading himself as deep as he can get while you whimper and clench on him has him rock hard in seconds

Or the sight of him just covering your face in it as you look up at him with your mouth open has him palming himself

ok That’s all this is too long now—

#brian thomas #hoodie #marble hornets #brian x reader #hoodie x reader #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta smut #tim wright #masky and hoody #brian thomas x reader #Brian Thomas x fem!reader

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Could I get an Hc for how the M6 would react to an Mc that finds out they used to eat a lot of weird creatures and monsters.

I may be obsessed with delicious in dungeon, but like maybe Mc got to try dragon meat and realized that despite it being an 'exotic' food, it tastes familiar. Only gets more surprised. The more weirder foods they end up trying that rnd up tasting familiar.

The Arcana HCs: M6 when MC eats monsters

Julian

From a scholarly point of view, he's actually quite interested in learning more and documenting your finds as medical research

Who knows what medicinal properties these creatures might contain that have gone previously ignored? You could find some miraculous cure or random medicine if you keep snacking your way through the monstrous ecosystem!

Then again, he'd be lying if he said that practice was just as easy as theory. He's pretty well traveled himself, but some of the things you seem so eager to dig into are just ... so ... off-putting

He'll push through with most things but he will draw the line at anything resembling a plague beetle. He was force-fed one of those once and he never wants to experience that again

(he'd never try to keep you from making your own decisions, but to say that watching you eat things resembling plague beetles doesn't turn his stomach and make him anxious would be a lie)

Still one of the best researchers you could have helping you

He's got the background to understand physical nutrients and the importance of a diverse diet - and he's plenty dedicated to you

Asra

They are even more enthusiastic than you are

Sometimes you wish you knew what his limits were, because if things keep going at the rate that they are you might find out that he doesn't even have any

Faust is not helping either - she can and will help distract you if you've finally come across something you're hesitant to try so Asra can sneak a mouthful without being caught

On the plus side, they've tried so many different cuisines already that they have plenty of ideas when it comes to figuring out how to cook something new - and spice combinations you wouldn't dare dream of on your own

He also happens to have plenty of tried-and-true remedies for food poisoning as well (wonder why he learned all of those ...) and is more than happy to share with you if things go south

Absurdly creative with the whole cooking process in general

Keeps trying to incorporate magic. This does occasionally backfire when the beast being cooked is also magical by nature, and the two don't mix as intended

Nadia

She's politely unconvinced, but still mildly invested

Is she personally interested in trying all manner of unconventional dishes? Sure, if it's a well-established recipe from a trustworthy source and contributes to her cultural education

Your recipes, darling MC, do not cleanly fit into that category

She'll still try some, but only after you've been able to replicate the dish multiple times to the point that it's reliably delicious and safe to eat. Otherwise, she'll happily pass her portion to you

However, once you do find a creature that can be reliably cooked as part of a nutritious diet, she is all ears

Do you know what the state of Vesuvia is right now? Any new food source is a welcome food source, especially if it's a resource that isn't being tapped into otherwise. Tell her more about its properties

Will work with you and other nutritionists, chefs, and civil engineers to find a way to introduce it to the populace so they can take advantage of it

Who knows? Maybe if it's popular enough, it can be purposefully cultivated and turned into a major food export ...

Muriel

Not remotely surprised by your habits, for multiple reasons

For starters, he spent his teens living with Asra. In the woods. Who do you think came up with all those natural remedies for food poisoning??? Not the kid picking every mushroom they saw!

Second of all, he lives off of the land himself. The reason his grocery list is so short is because he's learned to find most of his sustenance in the woods around him. You're just doing the same

Third of all (and most importantly) - if it's food, it's food. It's that simple

Will eat anything you hand him as soon as he knows it won't poison him, no hesitation in sight and no further questions asked

His only concern about the whole thing is sustainability. He knows firsthand what happens when something throws the delicate balance of an ecosystem out of whack and he wants to make sure that doesn't happen on accident because you're new to it

Never really stops to appreciate any of the good flavors at first, but eventually develops a palette for the different spices

Insanely good at assessing what kind of nutrients it'll have

Portia

Being an excellent chef herself, she doesn't see much point in eating mostly monster food once the initial excitement has worn off. It was fun for several meals, but now she wants bread

This does not change her general fascination with monsters or magical beasts in general, though, or her overall interest in helping you on your special monster cuisine endeavors

Share the monster facts - all the monster facts

Will work with you on putting together notebooks full of information on monster behaviors, nutritional values, hunting and preparation methods, and ideal flavor profiles

Unrivaled at giving good cooking advice. The meat's good to eat, but too tough? Marinate it in something acidic

It's too spongy to be a starch, but too starchy to be a vegetable? Try roasting or grilling it plain and putting sauce on top

Knows all about how to maximize the "scraps" so that nothing edible goes wasted, and knows how to do it in a way that still tastes good and fills you up

Curious enough to try most of it, smart enough to avoid poisoning

Lucio

Okay, okay, so he'll admit it - he does get squeamish (just a little bit) at the thought of eating the monsters that tried to kill him earlier and he's not particularly fond of revisiting the "eat or be eaten" mentality that was instilled in him as a small child

That said, he is curious

And he very much enjoys all the hunting (and bounties!) involved

You're telling him that he gets to chase down a rare beast, enjoy the thrill of conquering it and the bragging rights that entails, get paid for disposing of it, and then get a free meal after he forgets about it for a couple hours? Sign him up!

Just, uh. Just don't remind him what exactly he's eating if it's from one of the grosser monsters. Devouring a deadly ancient boar? Awesome! Devouring a worm monster? ... yeah, don't ruin it

Has no issues with putting more resources into what you're trying to do. It means free food, bragging rights about killing and eating monsters, and dinner not getting dull and boring

Will not-so-subtly feed anything he doesn't like to Mercedes and Melchior when he thinks you can't see him

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana game #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

[mythicalviper-fr]

hi! Thank you for making your guide, it’s been so helpful as a new skin artist. I’m still confused about how to make good festival submissions (?) I thought my submission for Rockbreaker’s Ceremony fit all the conditions you talked about but no one seemed interested in my skin. Do you have any advice on how newer artists can make a good entry?

I'm happy the guide's helped! It is less of a checklist and more on how I personally approach the contest. There are a lot of things I don’t think I described well technique-wise, so I’ve considered making step-by-step tutorials to approach each contest that would better encapsulate the win conditions I described. But for now, here’s one way you can approach a contest, particularly if you’re a new artist.

1. Pick Your Breed (and Battles)

Breed variety, as I stated in the guide, is the Number One reason I win any contest. This is where I think I should’ve gone more into why I favored the Ridgeback F base - it’s important to pick a canvas that will not impede your ability to create and more importantly, a canvas that makes you comfortable as an artist. Ridgeback F has a big wingspace that serves as a good canvas and the anatomy is easy (for me) to design on, which is why this is the canvas I default to.

Here are some of the best “starter” canvases for new artists, in my personal opinion:

Wildclaw M and F: these bases, particularly the F pose, don’t get many submissions (look at their submission rate in the Gala!) They have a standard dino anatomy that’s easy to understand and work around.

Fae M: Fae rarely get entries. The big wingspace is a great canvas, and more importantly, the M Fae canvas is pretty small compared to the others, so it’s less daunting. The shrimp posture can be a bit hard to grasp, but you can honestly just do a wingcent.

Coatl M and F: Coatl is a great base for new artists if shadows and lines are disrupting your creative process, because they don’t have as much of those. (You can also turn shadows/lines off while you’re drawing. I usually have shadows off and lineart at 30% opacity. Just remember to turn them back on when you submit!)

2. Theme Your Skin: Canonical Elements

August goes into this better in his guide, but you generally want to stick closer to canon. Think of skin contests like an art contest for a fandom. If you were submitting to, say, a Percy Jackson art contest, you’ll probably draw inspiration from Greek and Roman mythology, not Aztec or Chinese mythology. Flight Rising is the same. So, here are canonical places you can draw inspiration from:

Past festival familiars and apparel

Existing vistas, scenes, and World Map locations

Artistic interpretations of the canonical lore

If you do want to go outside of canon, my suggestion is to pick a neutral element. This means something that doesn’t have any religious/otherwise connotations, and is still related to the flight. I.e.: icy mountains for the ice flight, different types of minerals for the earth flight, different types of plants for nature. You are making an official item for the site, so work with that in mind.

3. Skin Composition: Balance

Composition is how the elements in an art piece work together. I struggle a lot with it, so I am not the best person to speak on this. What I’ve found that works for me is focusing the canvas on one big thing and putting small elements around it. That big item is usually wings, which is a great neutral component that can take on attributes of different elements. If you look at my skins, they usually follow the equation of skin = 1 big element (wings, bones, crystals) + 2 small elements (gradients, sparkles, butterflies, leaves, flowers).

[RBC 2023 = bones + crystals + rocks] [TC 2022 = wings + gradient + wispy shadow things]

4. Skin Execution: Actually Drawing the Thing

The best part of festival contests is the skill bar is quite low. I am going to contradict myself slightly by saying you do need a basic understanding of how to draw, but aside from that, contests are forgiving if you aren’t an experienced artist. I had six months of experience when I won my first contest and more recently, I was drawing with zero wrist mobility. These are some of my recent skins that were created when I could not render the way I usually do or use line weight.

[TCC 2023 & ROR 2023] 

In comparison, here are skins when I could render and line weight.

[WS 2023 & GG 2023]

Importantly, all of these skins won. So that’s why, from my perspective, whether you’re an experienced artist or not, whether you know how to render or not, is not the point.

I don’t want to imply that you don’t need any skill to win a contest… it is a contest, after all. I think what I’m trying to say is: to make the best entry you can, you need to know the skills that complement YOUR art style. It isn’t necessarily the skill difference between artists that determines who wins, it’s how you use the skills you have to bring out the most in your piece. 

There is no one way to making good art. And the hardest obstacle as a new artist is finding out what enhances your art style. You may not even have an art style yet, and that’s okay. That’s why it’s vital you continue exploring - which contests are great for.

Again, everything in this post is only what I have personally observed. This approach will not work for everyone, since everyone’s creative process is going to be different. But I hope this is a good bare-bones, structured, guide as to what I personally focus on – and I hope that it’s good for reference, even if the specific steps aren’t helpful for you ^^

#flightrising #flight rising #fr skins and accents #skins and accents #fr guides

[kelocitta]

What why??

Theres a few reasons! I do want to clarify that I do like Saint and their campaign in a bubble, and still like downpour as a whole, they're just the most 'off' in terms of overall.

This is going to be very messy, and I haven't fully yet made up my mind on a lot of things

For starters Saint themselves... Downpour is for-sure less grounded in naturalistic biology than RW vanilla- and thats fine. The base game slugcats are all relatively mundane for a reason, but that also means their overall variety is limited- so downpour mixes that up with a bit of a fantastical slant and then tries its best to re-ground it various ways (Spearmaster is genetically modified, Gourmand is just very smart and very big, Artificer is implied to have been mutated by a toxic environment, rivulet is just fast and evolved for increased flooding). The issue with Saint here is that they are, by far, the most ungrounded in any sort of reality and a bit more 'magical'- but that aspect isn't really explained past maybe a short nod in the general direction of something. This isn't exactly a flaw in itself, but it does mean we have something immensely powerful in a way that's very... contradicting to the general vibe of the world. Especially as a little animal. Something like that can work, but its hard to make work, especially in a world set up like RW is. And then the campaign itself... for starters, I think its one that naturally going to be very polarizing depending on the way you read various things about RW- the characters in it, the things it touches on, and your own personal outlook on life. I'm a nerd for evolution and 'life finds a way' type stuff, and for me Saint goes a little too far in direction I don't really vibe with. Its really hard to explain here, but I'll try. For probably the most minor thing, the environment. There's a sort of undercurrent that the frozen over tundra of world as is a 'dying' environment. The undergrowth echo does add a counter to this mindset (By pointing out there is still life and beautiful blooming in a increasingly barren world) so its not the biggest thing, but its a outlook a lot of people tend to hold to begin with, so the ways it reinforces this is a little... sour? I suppose. Deserts and tundras and areas of low life are not dead or dying environments- they are their own ecosystems. They exist and are needed. Many things can not survive them. Many things can. Worlds and ecosystems are naturally always shifting and changing, and ecosystems like deserts and arctics stand equal to rainforests and coral reefs. We see some creatures have failed to adapt and died off, but so many others have begun to carve out their niches and are changing with the world- I think a tundra is a great metaphorical 'the world is shifting away from its old self' type thing. Everything being broken down and changed once more and a lot of things aren't surviving, some are, but changed. Metaphorically that is great. But Saint is there as a big, literal kill switch on the world (Small aside that yes, kill is an inaccurate descriptor. Ascension is by nature 'something else' than dying.) Its just a little... wrong, that the implied shift in what the world is- the last stains of the Ancient's being washed away into something new and independent, is being done with the literal removal of those remains rather than the natural clockwork of the world. Even without Saint there things would die and shift, iterators would crumple into nothing, buildings would break and become dust and rust- and from all that things would still claw their way to the next day. Their offspring and offspring's offspring would grow ever more different from them, until they hardly match. Something new would be borne from the dusts of an old one forgotten. Tundras would freeze over into something else, a change in the atmosphere would trigger a shift, and ice would melt into water once more. Thats another great big thing everything is a small part of. (For some reason if this space isn't here this whole post breaks?)

Its sad, but theres a beauty in the way things lead into each other- erased in anyway meaningful way but their ghosts still etched imprinted into the shell of the new. Both insignificant and yet strangely important. I don't think Saint is implied to 'succeed' at all, of course. I think its very much hinted at that they'll be at whatever mission they have forever. But is also feels implied that this mission is supposed to be the intended end of the Ancients' 'era', pieces bit by bit ascended, finally removed from this cycle they can't perceive themselves as even a part of- and that even with this there will still be something new that takes their place. Their whole goal is ascension, so it makes sense ultimately. But it just feels... something is off about it, and maybe thats entirely on me. There's something I just don't like about it. A long time ago I was asked about Saint and the void worms (you can read that here, although note this was pretty early into DP's release) and I do think at least part of that is the idea that Saint pulls control from things. The worms, buried deep in the void sea, the last step to ascension... Crossing yourself out feels like a weighty choice, but one you have to seek. So a sort of mobile ascension that does it for you, these lizards and bugs that couldn't possibly comprehend what ascension is, creatures that mostly just know survival and all its ills... it feels like it skips all that weight behind that choice. The underground Ancient, stuck midway, says it was never something they really wanted anyway, seemly contended to be in the in-between. An outlier for sure, but an outlier none the less- one that makes it clear that things can comprehend the weight of ascension and what it offers and understand the world and its ills and still want to be a part of it. What does that mean of Saint, a system that brings that to you, without say? Sure most of the creatures they ascend are simple things, the others are iterators- Beings designed to seek that solution and even want it for themselves but to barred from being able to achieve it. These are all things that it should feel good to grant the blessings of ascension too, that final peace that is neither living nor dying, but I just think about that echo and the way it makes it clear that many, if given the choice, would not want to be crossed out. I like it in a bubble, removed from those things, but I don't know how I feel about it in the greater scheme of things, as a sort of end to rain world. If there is one thing I do like a lot though, its the finale- with the worm. It gives Saint's place in the world a distinct sense of wrongness, something capped at the void worms. The void worms are just... still at the center. Something ancient and unbreakable. A rule of existence Saint doesn't- can't, bypass.

#theres a couple other things but this is already long and ramble-y and i dont really have my thoughts in that much order to explain anything #well here to begin with. things like rubicon and what it represents and means and all that #I dont think about saint all that much cause it just kinda is in that weird spot for me anyway so im just like #okay whatever ill focus on the ones i do like with all their flaws #ask #sorry for any weird formatting tumblr hated this post!! i narrowed it down to it for some reason forcing me to have a giant gap #in the middle for no reason. if i deleted it at all it just broke the whole thing

[magicdefendorwolf]

what if Yanqing with a (s/o or crush) whos the complete opposite of him, they are very sleepy and no energy

Opposites attract

Description:Yanqing with a s/o who is the complete opposite of him

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

So for starters let me say this,everyone wonders how you two got together,i mean you're complete opposites,how did you even get to know eachother?

Well thats a mystery to them for sure

But,moving on

He always wakes up early,he's a morning person no doubt about it,but he also loves sleeping in on days when he is free,but otherwise he wakes up super early

And when he tries waking you up you always want ateast 5 more hours of sleep

He always has to carry you or drag you out of bed

Whenever you two walk around the stores or just hang out in general he's always looking around and excited to go new places,and you're just there holding onto his arm so you wont lose him in the crowd

Really you dont care where you go,you just want to sleep

But nope,your dear Yanqing has to go to atleast each store to see what they have and even then he isnt out of energy

He's the chaotic and energetic orange cat and you're the black cat who would sleep all day if they could

Whenever people see you two together its always Yanqing being all happy and smiley and your slouched figure holding pinkies with him and following him like a lost puppy

Your lack of energy doesnt bother him at all,he actually finds it cute and is willing to carry you back home if you end up falling asleep while you're out and about

He's the lalalalala and you're the okokokok

He loves ranting to you and you just love hearing him rant and talk

Sometimes he wishes he would hear you rant just to hear your voice,but he doesnt mind

On days when you both have nothing to do he has no problem staying in bed with you for hours while you sleep in

Istg you're eachothers protectors,whenever someone comments on how low energy you are and speculates that you're lazy Yanqing jumps into action,like nope you are not going to talk about his s/o that way

And when you hear someone say something bad suddenly you're a bundle of energy ready to shut the person up

And since you're not the most vocal person about their love and arent the most expressive about it Yanqing absolutely appreciates the small gestures you do to show your love

For example defending him,always letting him rant to you no matter how long or boring the rant is,and you're still listening even if you look like you're sleeping,or your attempts at showing affection better that sometimes fail,he appreciates it all

He also loves the way you hold his hand in public in fear of losing him in the crowd

Or the way you fall asleep on his shoulder when sitting down

And whenever you do any affectionate jestures Yanqing treasures those gestures so much

Or when you give him small gifts,no matter how small or low effort the gift is he appreciates it

As i said before Yanqing finds your low energy and sleepiness very cute

Even if you're half asleep most of the time he adores you for you and every single part of you

Even if you once fell asleep on a bench and he had to carry you home

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Here you go i hope you enjoy it🫶

#yanqing hsr #yanqing x reader #yanqing #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #x reader #headcannons #hcs

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Belief in one’s self

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)  

Human bartender: What’s your poison?

Alien: Excuse me?

Bartender: Sorry, Earth expression.

Bartender: Whatchya buying?

Alien: Do you have something to make sadness go away?

Bartender: Depends on the sadness I suppose.

Alien: What does that have to do with anything?

Bartender: *Shrugs* Different things fix different problems.

Alien: *groans*

Alien: Something to make me feel like I’m not a failure.

Bartender: *nods and begins making drink*

Bartender: If you don’t mind me asking, what’s got you thinking you’re a failure?

Alien: Are all humans this talkative?

Bartender: Mostly.

Alien: *groans again*

Alien: I feel like I am trapped at my work because I can’t reach any higher than where I am.

Bartender: If you wanted an arm extension I could tell you about these nifty claw things I got off sky mall.

Alien: What?

Alien: I didn’t mean physically reach things you idiot.

Bartender: Shoot and a miss then.

Alien: I mean that every time I try and do something better for myself I start feeling like I won’t be able to achieve it.

Alien: Then the next thing you know I feel like I shouldn’t even try and then finally I just give up and accept that I’m not going anywhere.

Bartender: Sounds like you’ve got a bit of a self-confidence problem.

Alien: I asked you to make me a drink, not psychoanalyze me.

Bartender: You’d be surprised how often in my career I can do both.

Alien: If you’re so good at it why didn’t you become a doctor then?

Alien: *Mockingly* Mr. smarty human.

Bartender: Fees and expenses for starters; but that’s beside the point.

Bartender: *Place drink down in front of alien.*

Alien: What is that and why is it yellow?

Bartender: It’s called a John Daly.

Alien: Why in Zuels name would you name a drink after a person?

Bartender: The same reason we give out nicknames like “the impaler”; we run out of good ideas and just go with the obvious.

Alien: *Sips drink*

Alien: It’s not entirely bad.

Bartender: Good, because I don’t get paid if it was.

Bartender: *reaches behind counter and pulls out a cd*

Alien: What’s that?

Bartender: Some music I think you should listen to.

Alien: If I wanted to listen to music I would be getting intoxicated back home.

Bartender: I think you’d like this one.

Bartender: *Inserts cd and “Ode to Joy” begins playing*

Alien: That’s not bad either; who wrote it?

Bartender: A human called Beethoven.

Alien: He must have had an amazing ear for music to write this.

Bartender: Actually he was deaf as a doornail when he wrote this.

Alien: You jest.

Bartender: I certainly do not.

Bartender: He couldn’t hear a single thing when he wrote this song.

Alien: If he could not hear how could he write such wonder?

Bartender: Because he didn’t need his ears to hear it; he could hear it in here. *Taps chest*

Alien: In your lungs?

Bartender: What? No; in here. *Taps chest again*

Alien: Your liver?

Bartender: No.

Alien: Your spleen?

Bartender: Still no.

Alien: *Pauses*

Alien: Your liver?

Bartender: Oh for gods sakes…

Bartender: He could hear it in his heart; in his very soul.

Bartender: It didn’t matter that he could no longer hear his music, he believed in himself that he could still create such wonders the likes of which are still debated and listened to generations after his body has turned to dust.

Alien: So this is meant to be some motivational speech to get me to believe in myself?  

Bartender: If I had laid it on any thicker you’d be covered in it.

Alien: Well excuse me, I’m drunk.

Bartender: Dude, come on.

Bartender: I gave you a John Daly, not an Aunt Roberta.

Bartender: You might as well be drinking that out of a sippy cup.

Alien: Well if it was so weak why in Zuel’s name did you give it to me?

Bartender: Because I could tell the moment you walked in what you needed wasn’t to get drunk, but a friend to tell you things are going to be alright.

Alien: *looks and drinks and sniffles*

Bartender: We’ve all had shitty days, but if a deaf man can write music that has defied the ages you can find a way to get yourself where you want to be.

Alien: You would have made a great doctor.

Bartender: Don’t I know it.

Bartender: By the way that’s $18.50 for the drink.

Alien: What?!

Bartender: Well I need to pay those bills for doctor school somehow.

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #scifi #story #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01

[lullabyes22-blog]

Snippet - Rotten to the Core - Forward, but Never Forget/XOXO

Young Silco meets Margot in Stillwater.

Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

TW: exploitative dynamics, power imbalances, threats of violence, physical assault, oral sex.

Snippet:

 Notes:

- Inmate to be assigned to solitary for duration of his sentence.

- Inmate's cell door has been reinforced with additional layers of steel.

- Inmate must remain muzzled at all times outside of his cell.

- All personnel are advised not to engage in direct contact with Inmate 238453 for any reason, excepting the administration of food and water, and the necessary maintenance of his physical needs.

- All guards are instructed to use maximum force against the inmate.

- Guards are not permitted to engage in conversation with the inmate.

Transcript from audio recording made at 1201, 11-13-1949, in the Stillwater Correctional Facility

Location: Solitary confinement cell

Inmate: (singing)

Guard: You've got a lovely voice.

Inmate: (scoffs)

Guard: It's not just flattery. You have a really beautiful voice.

Inmate: ...

Guard: Are you sure I can't give you anything to make the time go faster?

Inmate: ...

Guard: Anything I can bring you? Something to eat? A drink?

Inmate: (chuckles)

Guard: You know, there's nothing I can't get.

Inmate: I know.

Guard: What's that supposed to mean?

Inmate: You know.

Guard: No, I don't know.

Inmate: You're new here, aren't you?

Guard: How can you tell?

Inmate: A few reasons. First, because I haven't seen you before.

Guard: ...

Inmate: And second, because you're talking to me.

Guard: Why wouldn't I talk to you?

Inmate: Because the Warden ordered the guards not to.

Guard: Yeah, well. Fuck the Warden.

Inmate: Sssh. Don't let him hear you say that.

Guard: I can't stand the bastard. He treats everyone like dirt.

Inmate: I've noticed.

Guard: Is it true what they say? You beat up Dr. Madden, on the day of his visit, just to get moved here.

Inmate: ...

Guard: Because I can see why. You've got privacy. Space. A nice soft mattress and a clean toilet.

Inmate: And the best view in the house.

Guard: (laughs) What view?

Inmate: Oh, I don't know. Yours, for starters.

Guard: Yeah, you can't go wrong with a girl in uniform.

Inmate: Definitely not.

Guard: You got a real smart mouth, you know that?

Inmate: Do I?

Guard: I've had plenty of prisoners try to charm me. But you're the first one who acts like he already has.

Inmate: I hope it's a good thing.

Guard: It depends.

Inmate: On what?

Guard: What else you can do with your smart mouth.

Inmate: Oh?

Guard: Oh, yeah.

Inmate: Well. Maybe there's a thing or two I could show you.

Guard: Maybe you could.

Inmate: You'd have to open the door, first.

Guard: ...

Inmate: You won't regret it.

Guard: What makes you think I'd do such a thing?

Inmate: You want to.

Guard: Oh, do I?

Inmate: You're interested already, aren't you?

Guard: (breathing).

Inmate: Come a little closer.

Guard: I'm not supposed to.

Inmate: Just for a second.

Guard: Okay.

(Footsteps).

Inmate: Hmm. You've got the most gorgeous lips.

Guard: Thanks.

Inmate: And such a sweet smile.

Guard: Yeah?

Inmate: What kind of girl wears red lipstick under a guard's visor?

Guard: (laughs) A bad one.

Inmate: Very bad.

Guard: What about you?

Inmate: Oh, I'm already bad.

Guard: That's not what I meant.

Inmate: What then? You want to find out how bad?

Guard: ...

Inmate: Open the door.

Guard: (whispers) I can't.

Inmate: Oh, yes, you can.

Guard: The cameras.

Inmate: Nobody watches them.

Guard: You don't know that.

Inmate: I do. Solitary is a dead zone. Everyone's attention is on the cameras in the general population wing.

Guard: I can't risk it.

Inmate: What have you got to lose?

Guard: My job.

Inmate: They won't fire you.

Guard: Why wouldn't they?

Inmate: The place is short-staffed. They need every name on the roster, and then some.

Guard: But they might dock my pay.

Inmate: Or transfer you to a cushier spot.

Guard: Cushier?

Inmate: They're starting a parole program for tracking inmates. Check in on their progress after they've left the facility. It pays well.

Guard: How do you know?

Inmate: The new psychicker told me.

Guard: The psychicker?

Inmate: The jolly fellow from Bandle. The one with the paunchy jowl and buck teeth.

Guard: O'Neil?

Inmate: That's the one.

Guard: But they've been offering that job for weeks, and nobody's taken it.

Inmate: Why's that?

Guard: It's dangerous. Most of the parolees are from the Undercity. They'd sooner slit your throat than take orders.

Inmate: Only a small fraction. Most are low-level criminals. They're harmless.

Guard: Still. I don't like it.

Inmate: You're bored here, aren't you?

Guard: ...

Inmate: Admit it. You are.

Guard: Maybe.

Inmate: I'd hate to think that a sweet girl like you had to go all day and night, bored and lonely.

Guard: I'm not lonely.

Inmate: You're not?

Guard: Of course not. I'm surrounded by men. Trapped, and feisty, ready to explode.

Inmate: That gets you hot, huh?

Guard: Yeah.

Inmate: You can waltz up to any man's cage. Get up close and whisper in his ear. Let him get a whiff of your perfume. Tell him what's going to happen, watch him squirm, then walk away. Does it turn you on?

Guard: Yeah.

Inmate: So what's stopping you?

Guard: Nothing.

Inmate: Unlock the door.

Guard:  ...

Inmate: You won't regret it.

Guard: You've said that.

Inmate: And still, you're afraid.

Guard: I'm not afraid.

Inmate: No?

Guard: Of course not. You're locked up. You can't touch me.

Inmate: I could, if you let me.

Guard: If you think I'll fall for that—

Inmate: I won't lay a finger on you, unless you ask me to.

Guard: That's easy to say.

Inmate: I never make promises I can't keep.

Guard: And if you can't keep that one?

Inmate: You'll have my balls in a vice.

Guard: Yeah, I will.

Inmate: (sings)

Guard: You have a pretty voice.

Inmate: And a dirty mouth.

Guard: ...

Inmate: You could have my mouth, if you wanted.

Guard: ...

Inmate: (sings)

Guard: Fine. I'll let open the door. But we're going to do this on my terms.

Inmate: Anything you want.

Guard: Anything?

Inmate: Yes.

Guard: So, you'll do exactly what I say.

Inmate: Yes.

Guard: Get down on your knees.

Inmate: Alright.

Guard: Put your hands behind your back.

Inmate: Okay.

Guard: Now, I'm going to unlock the door. I'll put the key in my pocket. If you make a single move, or touch me without my permission, I'll pull out my baton, and break every bone in your body.

Inmate: I promise. I won't lay a finger on you.

Guard: ...

Inmate: ...

(sound of a key turning in a lock, and a door opening.)

Guard: Crawl over here.

Guard: On my knees?

Guard: That's right. Keep those hands behind your back.

Inmate: Like a good little doggie, hm?

Guard: Yeah, you've really got a smart mouth.

Inmate: And you've done this before.

Guard: Have I?

Inmate: Oh, I can tell. You like the Fissure-boys, don't you?

Guard: The girls, too.

Inmate: Of course you do. It's all about the filth. Rolling in it, then grinding it under your heel. Knowing it can never be more than a spot of fun. After, you can lock it right back in its cage.

Guard: You're pretty dirty yourself, aren't you?

Inmate: You've no idea.

Guard: I've had a few of your kind. They're all the same. All teeth, and empty stomachs.

Inmate: And a tongue that knows its way around a cunt.

Guard: Fuck, yeah.

Inmate: You like that, don't you? Putting the dirty ones to use.

Guard: That's what they're good for. Licking our boots, and crawling around on the floor, like dogs. 

Inmate:  You've done that before too, eh?

Guard: Maybe.

Inmate: Yeah, you have. And more than once. Gulled a desperate prisoner, and made him into a toy. Whored him out to the other guards for kicks. And a little extra clink of coin in your purse.

Guard: Yeah, it's a real rush.

Inmate: Is it?

Guard: Having total control.

Inmate: You can have that again.

Guard: Oh, yeah?

Inmate: I'm here, aren't I? At your feet. Hands behind my back. Ready to do anything you ask.

Guard:  I'm going to ask you to do a lot of things.

Inmate: (chuckles) I'll enjoy every one.

Guard: Take my skirt off.

Inmate: Alright.

(Sound of a belt being undone, and fabric rustling.)

Guard: Nice and slow.

Inmate: Like this?

Guard: Yeah, like that.

Inmate: Oh my. Not a stitch under that little uniform.

Guard: No.

Inmate: And such a soft, smooth cunt.

Guard: (breathing heavily)

Inmate: So wet already. Is that for me?

Guard: Don't flatter yourself.

Inmate: Do I need to? Your thighs are trembling.

Guard: Lick me.

Inmate: Like that?

Guard: Oh, fuck, yes.

Inmate: Mm.

Guard:  Gods, that mouth...

Inmate: Mmmmmm.

Guard: ...oh, fuck, I love that...

Inmate: What's your name?

Guard: I'm not—not supposed to tell you.

Inmate: It's only fair, since I'm lapping up every inch of your juicy little box.

Guard: Fuck, you are dirty.

Inmate: What's your name, peach?

Guard: Mar-Margot.

Inmate: Mmm. That's a sweet name. Sweet as you are.  

Guard: Keep licking. Fuck. Don't stop.

Inmate: Like that?

Guard: Yes! Oh, yeah, lick me, just like that. Fuck, oh fuck.

(sound of heavy breathing. sound of moaning.)

(sound of a blow, and a cry.)

Guard: Fucking hell!

Inmate: Poor peach. Did that hurt?

Guard: Let go of me, you fucking bastard!

Inmate: No, I don't think so.

Guard: You son of a bitch. You said—

Inmate: Yes, and I'm a lying sump-rat. Anyway, I don't make promises to your kind.

Guard: What's that supposed to mean?

Inmate: (sings)

Guard: Stop it. If I scream—

Inmate: Who will hear? I told you already. The wing's a dead zone. Nobody watches the cameras.

Guard: I'll report you—

Inmate: You'll report yourself. After all, it was your key that got you inside, wasn't it?

(silence and heavy breathing.)

Guard: What the fuck do you want?

Inmate: I have an itch, sweet peach. An itch I've had for a very, very, very long time. And you're going to scratch it.

Guard:  Oh gods. Please. No—

Inmate: Sssh. Nothing so indelicate. We're going to stay right here. With my hand wrapped around your pretty throat, and your back pressed up against the wall. And we'll have ourselves a little talk.

Guard: I—

Inmate: Ssssh. What did you think was going to happen, when you opened that door?

Guard: I thought—

Inmate: What? You'd let the sump-raker out of his cell, and he'd fall all over himself to please you. 

Guard: No, I—

Inmate: Yes, you did. You thought I'd eat your cunt like a starved man, and thank you for the chance. After all, that's where Fissure-trash belong, don't we? Kneeling, with your boot on our necks.

Guard: ...no, please, I'm sorry...!

Inmate:  Hush. I'm not angry. I'd grateful.

Guard: G-Grateful?

Inmate: The Kindred could've sent me a hundred guards. Each one old, and dumb, and ugly as boiled arse. And none of them would've been able to help me. Not the way a clever girl like you can.

Guard: H-how can I help you?

Inmate: You can start by listening.

Guard: O-Okay.

Inmate: Good. Tonight, you'll complete your rounds. Same as usual. You'll say nothing of our encounter. Tomorrow, and every day after, you'll visit my cell. Bring me what I ask.

Guard: What do you want?

Inmate: Books. Ink. Paper. I've a few messages to pass on.

Guard: What's to stop me from ratting you out?

Inmate: My hand at your throat.

Guard: ...

Inmate: That, and I'm right. You are bored. So bored you took a chance on a caged animal locked behind bars. Now, I'm giving you a purpose. Something exciting. Something fun.

Guard: ...

Inmate: There's a place for you, peach. A place where a clever, greedy, restless girl like you can be more than a cog. You like Fissure-boys on their knees, and Fissure-girls on a string, do you? You like to yank, and watch them dance. Well, there's a whole city of puppets down below. And I'm offering you the key. All you need to do is to leave my lock ajar.

Guard: I can't—

Inmate: Not often. Just now and then.

Guard: ...

Inmate: I've told you. I'm not angry. But the Kindred might be. If you refuse me.

Guard: (breathing heavily).

Inmate: Well?

Guard: I'll... I'll do it.

Inmate: (sings)

Guard: Stop singing. Gods, just stop!

Inmate: I always sing when I'm out of smokes.

Guard: I—I can get you cigarettes.

Inmate: Good. I'll expect a carton every night.

Guard: Okay.

Inmate: And books. And whiskey. And canned sardines.

Guard: Alright.

Inmate: And a knife, too.

Guard: Shit! No—I can't get a weapon in here.

Inmate: A letter opener, then.

Guard: Fuck, I don't like this.

Inmate: No. I imagine you don't. But you like a lot of other things, don't you?

Guard: ...

Inmate: I do think, when the time's right, you should transfer to that parole program.

Guard: Why?

Inmate: Because I'll be eligible in a year's time. And I've a feeling we'll get along better, when we're both outside Stillwater’s walls.

Guard: Fuck. You're crazy.

Inmate: So why are you nodding?

Guard: Because...

Inmate: You like that I'm crazy. And you know we can help each other.

Guard: ...

Inmate: Now, how about I let go of your neck? And you slip your skirt back on.

Guard: And then what?

Inmate: Oh, we'll see about it tomorrow.

Guard: (breathing heavily).

Inmate: You'll be back, peach. And, I suspect, you'll have a little something extra for me.

Guard: Maybe.

Inmate: That's a good girl. Now, go on. Get dressed.

(sound of rustling clothes.)

Guard: Bastard.

Inmate: Have a nice shift, peach.

(sound of door closing, and footsteps, and the key turning in a lock.)

(inmate resumes singing)

End recording.

Notes:

- Inmate is showing marked improvement in his behavior.

- Inmate shows receptiveness to toward rehabilitation.

- Inmate has requested to work with Doctor O'Neil.

- Inmate should remain muzzled at all times.

- All guards are advised not to engage in direct contact with Inmate 238453 for any reason.

Petition to Piltover Parole Board

Subject: Parole application for Inmate #238453.

Requestor: Stillwater Correctional Facility - Psych Ward - Dr. O'Neil

Summary:

After extensive study, we can conclude that Inmate 238453 exhibits excellent progress, both cognitively and socially. He has demonstrated a strong desire for rehabilitation, and has successfully engaged with our psychotherapy programs. He has not had any altercations or incidents for the past twelve months, has engaged constructively with other inmates, and shown a high interest in group-therapy. In his private sessions with me, he has expressed remorse for his actions, and a wish to contribute to society.  

Recommendation:

In light of Inmate 238453's good behavior and outstanding progress, we recommend his application for parole be accepted.

Attachment:

Stillwater Correctional Facility Case History

- Psychological Evaluation:

- Behavioral Evaluation:

- Medical Evaluation:

- Letters of Recommendation:

1. From Doctor O'Neil, Stillwater Correctional Facility:

2. From Margot Baffier, Stillwater Correctional Facility:

Reply from Piltover Parole Board to requestor

Summary:

We have reviewed your recommendation for parole. Based on our own analysis, we have approved your recommendation.

Inmate 238453 will be released from custody on the following conditions:

1. He is not permitted to be in contact with any of his former associates in the Undercity.

2. He is not permitted to leave the Fissures, nor may he travel without an official permit.

3. He must reside at a registered parole address.

4. He must refrain from using, distributing, or being in the company of narcotics or alcohol.

5. He is prohibited from possessing weapons or sharp objects, and must not enter establishments where weapons are allowed.

6. He is required to obtain employment within two weeks of his release.

7. He must remain in good standing, and cannot have any violations of parole, or else he will be returned to Stillwater.

8. He is required to check in with his parole officer on a weekly basis, and must present proof of his residence, employment, and personal effects.

Assigned Parole Officer:

Margot Baffier

Assigned Parole Address:

7803 Old Cannery

Entresol

Zone 3

Release Date:

23/10/1950

End report.

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