#THIS is my volcano shake em up this is everything to me....

[girlblocker]

if you want to understand the way i am u have to watch lady gaga as jo calderone sing at the 2011 vmas (start at 3:30)

[smashalltheguitars]

this is not a call out. this is not a call to action. rbs are fine if you want for whatever reason but please do not tag people or signal boost, this is so i can get everything in the open and people can make their own decisions about hen and about me.

in september, i helped write volcano shake em up. i joined a server for my chemical romance - the gerard way pussy indulgence - and i made fast friends with people i still care about so much it hurts. one of them was Hen.

Hen moderated the gwpi. i liked her. she's smart, funny, confident. i wanted to be her friend. in the early days of the gwpi, i had a brief disagreement with another server member. i literally cannot remember what we disagreed about. it was small and resolved itself quickly, but not before hen messaged me to tell me her thoughts on the situation: that i was in the right, and she liked that i stood up for myself.

this is when i fucked up, and i kept fucking up for a while. i made a group chat. hen, myself, and several others i roped in without really discussing anything. i wanted their approval. i wanted to be in the right. i felt like i was getting a good grade in discord. i had friends for the first time in years.

none of that justifies it. i was cruel, about people i disagreed with, about strangers, about people i called friends to their face. and when the people in the server weren't annoying me, hen and i went looking for other targets. we were never outright insulting to their face, or at least i kept telling myself we weren't - just little things, jumping into arguments to defend each other, venting privately to let off steam, and of course saying unbelievably vile things about people who did not deserve it.

as time went on, the group chat started to get used less and less often. hen and i tended to be the ringleaders, and as winter set in and i started struggling more with seasonal depression i was just online less often and muted a lot of servers and chats. slowly it started getting more and more frequent that close friends would message me along the lines of "am i overreacting for being upset, or was hen really rude in the server." it was always small things, a meme she didn't like had to be spoilered, someone's special interest was insulted, she was snappy and dismissive about a conversation she joined in the middle of. it was always small things, like she was just having a bad day or upset at something unrelated, and i hoped she was doing okay.

what was, for me, the first thing that was big enough for me to talk to her about how she was acting, happened when we were goofing off in gwpi. hen came online in the middle of it, immediately told us to stop, threatened to delete the server, and left quickly - leaving a brief wake of other people, people who were usually inactive in gwpi, who agreed with her and told us off.

it felt VERY familiar, and it made all the small things feel just as familiar. i just hadn't been on that side of it before. i thought to check a different server, one i'd had muted, and sure enough, we were now the ones being vented about. once i spoke up in that thread, i got heartfelt apologies from most people in that server. one person in particular took steps to reach out, work with the server mod, add new rules, and lock the thread since it was breeding such negativity. i am not a forgiving person and apologies mean almost nothing to me; their actions made me think that could change.

hen apologized for forgetting i was in the server she was venting to. she said nothing about what was said to my face or behind my back.

to be blunt, i let that resolve too quickly. i did self-reflect long enough to admit i was being a hypocrite for asking for kindness and to leave the old group chat, but i had trusted hen and considered her one of my favorite people, despite everything. i was still deep in a mental health episode, had just lost someone i considered a close friend, and didn't feel like i could handle losing another. again that does not justify it. i refused to do what i had just demanded of others. i stood by and did what was easiest instead of what was right, and i said it would all be okay and did nothing about the rest of the server members she had been hurting.

i thought everything had been resolved, even if i was not happy with the resolution, until back in that same server she had been venting to. in the middle of a conversation, hen made a joke about changing the name of gwpi 'to see how long it would take them to notice,' with the followup of, verbatim, "Why get a discord full of people if not to perform experiments on them." up to this point, however she acted behind our backs, she had still claimed the gwpi members as her friends; additionally, being watched, experimented on, or gaslit like that can very easily be a psychosis or paranoia trigger. hen knew that that is something i (and a few others in the server) struggle with, as i had previously trusted her to the point of letting her know i was having a psychotic episode and asking her to sit on voice call with me until i could ground myself. that is a HUGE act of trust.

the response i got when i expressed why i was not okay with this, after several instances of 'it was a joke,' was "I’m sorry that you took it that way but I would personally not be offended if someone said that about a group I was a part of." again, verbatim. that conversation ended unresolved and a few days later, she left every server we share with very little warning. i wished her as well as i could bring myself to and tried to move on with my life and hopefully do better going forward. that was the last i had heard from or about her until this afternoon when paramoreworld's post came to light and showed that apparently the pattern is continuing.

i don't have a real reason for posting this except that i am tired of dealing with it in fragments. this is only what i was personally involved in, it says nothing about what other people have dealt with from either or both of us, but at least now it's in one place.

[altarboysalteredboys]

I posted 20,277 times in 2022

That's 1,246 more posts than 2021!

113 posts created (1%)

20,164 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@sirensongster

@autisticandroids

@inneskeeper

@raytorotits

@midnightsdestiel

I tagged 1,086 of my posts in 2022

#greenie.txt - 118 posts

#me and who - 64 posts

#relapsed - 58 posts

#they are friends - 30 posts

#poetry - 28 posts

#girlposting - 26 posts

#exercises in character building - 18 posts

#for my jesse pinkman mutual - 15 posts

#greenie's vent tag - 12 posts

#stupid idiot ratboy - 9 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#he's a wizard and a chef he's a fully realized creation he's got an accidental son his boyfriend is death he has cats he hates his neighbor

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

sorry folks but gerard way is wearing an outfit that i would wear and their body type is the same as mine i will never recover from this

5 notes - Posted September 18, 2022

#4

anyway the mongoose has specialized acetylcholine receptors that make it impervious to venom so they're known for killing snakes. very surprisingly dangerous, like you know rikki-tikki-tavi? yknow, yknow not everything has to be a joke. sometimes you can just be honest about your feelings, and that's how i see myself, you know? i may not be the most threatening silhouette but i like to think of myself as somebody who can stand up for- yknow it doesn't always have to be goof-goof dildo machines over here, okay? i'm traveling around with the boner squad, and i never get to just say what i'm feeling. i have emotions! it's not all abraca-fuck you and what have you! i have a beating heart! i'm- i'm multidimensional! i'm a fully realized creation! fuck! if you even care

6 notes - Posted July 16, 2022

#3

best fucking exchange i've had at work recently is seeing a camper with a red handprint painted on the shoulder of their battle jacket, i pointed at it and asked them "is that...?" and the. the absolute defeat and despair in their voice when they said "i think you know"

7 notes - Posted October 14, 2022

#2

please please somebody write and record volcano shake em up volcano shake em up will fix me i am sure of it

16 notes - Posted September 22, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

hello mcr fans. did u know i found out about nurse gerard while i was 1) high 2) <- for the first time ever 3) while in a discord call with a girl i'm into

27 notes - Posted December 2, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[dexvoan]

I posted 640 times in 2022

That's 517 more posts than 2021!

14 posts created (2%)

626 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@smiletwt

@piercinghorizons

@daydreamz618

@geekgirles

@lonely-boiii

I tagged 312 of my posts in 2022

#everything i queue is bittersweet - 3 posts

#/j - 3 posts

#apple juice is the nectar of the gods - 3 posts

#yeah - 3 posts

#good post - 3 posts

#&lt;3 - 3 posts

#also lee i still think you're cool for having a degree in english - 2 posts

#no literally - 2 posts

#zane core - 2 posts

#literally me - 2 posts

Longest Tag: 132 characters

#tho to be fair i am in react ridiculously touched starved and getting to cuddle my stuffed animal again was the best fucking feeling

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

24 and 75 for your spotify wrapped :D

I FINALLY GRABBED MY COMPUTER SO I CAN ANSWER THIS 24 is oh calamity by all time low and 75 is peach (lobotomy) by waterparks

1 note - Posted December 1, 2022

#4

ancient artifact

the way this has just been sitting in my ask box for months now… who's the ancient artifact now

1 note - Posted November 3, 2022

#3

holy SHIT i can follow osdd blogs

1 note - Posted November 3, 2022

#2

shoutout to my high school friends that still follow me on tumblr. we don't talk anymore but i see u in my notes

4 notes - Posted June 14, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

y'all my friend posted a cover of volcano shake em up holy shit it's amazing

13 notes - Posted September 26, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[morganaspendragonss]

when the dust settles

Tommy grins, arching an eyebrow as she looks back at TK. "Shall we go rescue your man from my girls then?"

TK has to prepare himself before entering the house, but his resolve to stay calm and composed immediately crumbles as he sees what's waiting for him—Carlos, meticulously stacking Jenga pieces back in the box while the girls colour quietly at the kitchen table.

ao3 | 1.5k | 2.14

It’s late by the time they finish their impromptu shift, all piling into Nancy’s car after returning the rig to the garage. A tense silence falls over them as they head back to Tommy’s place, both TK and Nancy still reeling from the bombshell she dropped on them this morning. The sense of finality that comes with leaving the ambulance behind is almost too much to bear.

It’s Nancy who breaks it eventually as they pull to a stop outside the Vega household. “Well,” she says, turning to look at Tommy, “if this was our last ride all together, then… Thank you, for being such an amazing captain. There’s no-one I’d rather go through volcanoes, kidnappings, and dust storms with.”

“Agreed,” TK chimes in from the back seat. He doesn’t have as close a connection with Tommy as Nancy does, but the thought of her leaving still sends a sharp pain through his chest. She’d been the first captain he’s truly felt free and comfortable under, and he can’t picture the job without her steady leadership guiding them through. “And, thank you for giving me a chance, Cap. You, uh, these months with EMS have been the best of my career, and I know most of that is down to you. So, um… Yeah.”

He trails off awkwardly, flushing slightly as he stares down at his hands. There’s an awful pressure behind his eyes, a sure sign he’s about to cry again, but he tries — unsuccessfully — to force the tears back.

“I think we’ve all cried enough for one day, huh, Strand?” Tommy asks, but there’s a smile in her suspiciously thick voice. TK looks up at her, met with a warm gaze and, yep, the undeniable shine in both her and Nancy’s eyes.

She breathes out shakily, then reaches a hand back to TK, the other going across Nancy. “I’m not sure I deserve such high praise, but thank you both. I meant what I said earlier; it has truly been a gift to work alongside two incredibly talented paramedics, and I could not have asked for a better reintroduction to the job.”

Nancy arches a brow, looking at her in disbelief.

Tommy laughs. “Maybe I could have gone without being kidnapped and having my firehouse blow up.”

“For starters,” Nancy mutters.

“Point is, I’m grateful. And… I think that maybe I was a little too hasty in my decision earlier.”

TK straightens in his seat, sharing a hopeful glance with Nancy. “You mean you’re coming back?”

“I’m not sure my girls would have it any other way,” Tommy admits wryly. Her smile turns a little sad, and she casts her eyes skyward, squeezing their hands tightly. “Then I think about what Charles would say,” she continues softly. “He would tell me to do what I want to do, not what I think I should do, and that’s my job. Don’t get me wrong, the girls will always come first, and I still need to do a lot of thinking to make sure it’s actually doable. But, hopefully, when the 126 reopens, I will be back in that ambulance with you two.”

Nancy doesn’t waste a second in launching herself forward to hug Tommy. TK grins at them, his eyes more than a little wet, and he feels a weight lifting from his chest.

“That’s awesome, Cap,” he says, squeezing her hand once more before letting go to surreptitiously wipe at his face.

“I can’t believe you almost left me alone with him,” Nancy adds, pulling back from Tommy and jerking her thumb towards TK. He makes a token protest, as is his role in this relationship, but the ribbing is worth it to see Tommy smile and roll her eyes at them, like she’s done so many times before.

“Alright, kids.” She opens the car door and climbs out, leaning back in to raise an eyebrow at TK. “Shall we go rescue your man from my girls?”

TK laughs and gets out too, hearing Nancy do the same. He has to take a moment to prepare himself before Tommy lets them in; seeing Carlos with the girls earlier had put all sorts of thoughts in his head—thoughts he should not be having after only a year of dating. Not that he wants to have those thoughts about anyone else, but still.

Slow and steady; that’s what they agreed. So TK takes a deep breath, tells himself to keep his head, no matter what’s waiting inside, and follows Nancy into the house.

His resolve crumbles immediately, his heart doing a funny little flip at the sight of Carlos meticulously stacking Jenga pieces back in the box while the girls colour quietly at the kitchen table. TK doesn’t know why it’s this, of all things, that’s making him so giddy, but there’s something about Carlos taking such care over something so small, whereas TK himself would have just thrown the pieces in the box until the lid had to be forced on.

It takes a second for his brain to reboot, and by that time, Carlos has abandoned his task. He smiles at them as Tommy hugs her girls, and TK goes over to greet him, wrapping an arm around his waist and pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

He leans his head down on Carlos’s shoulder, letting some of the exhaustion finally catch up with him. “Have fun?” he mumbles.

Carlos covers the hand TK has on his waist with his own. “Not as much as you, I’m sure.”

“Nine-year olds versus a dust storm?” TK hums as if in thought and wiggles his hand in the air. “Tough choice.”

Carlos laughs, gently knocking their heads together before pulling away from TK as Tommy returns from putting the girls to bed. He doesn’t let Tommy get a word out before he approaches her, an adorably worried look on his face. “I know you said they usually go to sleep much earlier than this,” he says, apologetic, “but they wanted to stay up and wait for you, and I figured they’d do that anyway so I said it was alright. I’m sorry if it wasn’t, I shouldn’t have assumed —”

“Carlos!” Tommy holds up a hand, very obviously fighting back laughter. “It’s okay, really. That was absolutely the right call; I’d probably have woken them up anyway. I can’t thank you enough for agreeing to look after them so last minute.”

He shakes his head, waving her off. “It was nothing.”

“It was everything,” she corrects. “I hope they didn’t torture you too much?”

“They were no trouble at all, I assure you.”

“Well.” Tommy sends him another grateful look, then glances round at all three of them. “Thank you, again. All of you. Now, go home and get some rest — you guys deserve it.”

TK steps forward to hug Tommy, then moves back to Carlos’s side. “Night, Cap,” he says, lifting a hand in one last wave goodbye, before he and Carlos step outside together.

They linger on the curb, waiting for Nancy, who stayed back to talk to Tommy some more. TK hooks his pinky around Carlos’s, leaning on him again. “You were really good with them,” he says quietly, keeping his voice carefully devoid of implication.

Carlos shrugs. “I’ve got five nieces and nephews, and my sisters have taken full advantage of my childless status to turn me into the family babysitter. Trust me, once you’ve had a toddler screaming in your ear for four hours straight, you can handle anything. Besides, apart from repeatedly kicking my ass at Jenga, Izzy and Evie really were totally fine.”

TK snorts. “Yeah, you’d think a cop would have steadier hands than that.”

He grins up at Carlos, receiving a pinch in the side for the comment, which only makes him laugh more.

“They cheated!”

“You can’t cheat at Jenga, Carlos.”

“For once, he has a point,” Nancy says, making them both jump as she appears from, seemingly, nowhere. She levels a finger at the two of them, eyes narrowed. “Technically, I am obligated to drive you home, but if either of you start with the lovey-dovey shit, I will not hesitate to abandon you on the side of the road.”

“Then I will not hesitate to turn you in to Cap,” TK counters, but Nancy just rolls her eyes and gets in the car.

“Please. She’d be on my side and you know it,” she says, which—point. “You coming or not?”

TK grumbles but gets in, immediately retaking Carlos’s hand when they’re both settled. They share a soft smile, making Nancy groan, but she doesn’t make good on her threat, which is a win. This entire day has felt like a win, minus the rocky start, and TK can’t help but feel like things are finally falling into place.

There’s a light at the end of the tunnel, and it’s getting closer with every second.

[homestucksongcomics]

Masterpost of Song Comics Part I (A-K)

*Unfortunately, due to a peculiarity of tumblr, a post containing too many links will not have any of them function. Thus, the masterpost has been broken into two parts.*

Organized by musician alphabetically

Last updated on 07/18/2021

See Part II here: Masterpost of Homestuck Song Comics Part II (L-Z)

#:

Kryptonite - 3 Doors Down by absinthianlyunheroic

This is War - 30 Seconds to Mars by caffieneandcarpaltunnel

I’m Not Your Boyfriend Baby - 3HO!3 by awildcale

A:

Almost Lover - A Fine Frenzy by irlmako

New Tomorrow - A Friend In London by maria-artz

Hand Over Mouth, Over and Over - A Lot Like Birds by binart

Skyfall - Adele by stormfather

Song of Healing - Adriana Figueroa by talkshitnojutsu

Everything Stays - Adventure Time by starchip-one

Kiss my Eyes and Lay Me to Sleep - AFI by 413art

Prelude 12/21 - AFI by toastyhat

Another Day - Air by chubsintubs

A Whole New World - Aladdin by copper-fish

Mercy Me - Alkaline Trio by brainbent

Hothouse - Aly & AJ by dristr

Evelyn, Evelyn - Amanda Palmer by p-pamda

Luck - The American Authors by timehwimeh

21 Guns - American Idiot Cast by jankyweeaboo

Pittsburgh - The Amity Affliction by anafigreen

Inevitable - Anberlin by suchirolle

Ready to Die - Andrew W. K. by askherroyalcondesce

The Age of Not Believing - Angela Lansbury by toastyhat

Director - The Antlers by gin-and-djinn

Kettering - The Antlers by cloudymew

My Mamma Said - Aqua by xamag-homestuck

Suburbs - Arcade Fire by porrim-maryam and collaborators

Wake Up - Arcade Fire by catprinx

We Used to Wait - Arcade Fire by drawingspecibus

R U Mine? - Arctic Monkeys by dacadaca

The Ballad Of Love And Hate - The Avett Brothers by umjulikins

Hey Brother - Avicii by esmeblaise

Wake Me Up - Avicii by a-vodka-mutini

Sail - AWOLNATION by theamazingzombiegirl

B:

If I Die Young - The Band Perry by japhers

Memory - Barbra Strisand by toastyhat

Glitter and Gold - Barns Courtney by chibigaia-art

Daniel in the Den - Bastille by tomato-bird

Pompeii - Bastille by maria-artz Broken

Pompeii - Bastille by toastyhat and oskarna

Above the Clouds of Pompeii - Bear’s Den by groveofsketches

Let it Be - Beatles by toastyhat

The Fool on the Hill - The Beatles by robotoucan

All the Pretty Little Horses - Becky Jean Williams by purplecalamity

Pieces of Sky - Beth Orton by awildcale

Sweet Dreams - Beyoncé by dacadaca

River Below - Billy Talent by kamdensl

Rusted from the Rain - Billy Talent by crispychocolate

Just a Game - Birdy by redwordsoncavewalls

Kill the Lights - The Birthday Massacre by xamag-homestuck

Red Stars - The Birthday Massacre by lord-caliborn and tricotee

These Days - The Black Keys by digitallyimpaired

In the End - Black Veil Brides by rinasart

Let it Be - Blackmill (feat. Veela) by awildcale

Bad Sun - The Bravery by crashtest-therapist

Dear Agony - Breaking Benjamin by yukishii-chan

Diary of Jane - Breaking Benjamin by nevernoahh

Give Me a Sign - Breaking Benjamin by perceptur

I Will Not Bow - Breaking Benjamin by themockingcrows

First Day of My Life - Bright Eyes by usatoria

Can you feel my heart? - Bring me the horizon by domingoos and Yumegurren

Seeds - Brooke Fraser by anno-bannano Broken

Kodaline - Brother by zzpopzz

When I Was Your Man - Bruno Mars by babynarwalshineyeyes

P.O.W. - Bullet for My Valentine by anafigreen

C:

Angel with a Shotgun - The Cab by dawngyocry

How Are You - Cage the Elephant by facetiousfanatic Part 1

How Are You - Cage the Elephant by facetiousfanatic Part 2

How Are You - Cage the Elephant by facetiousfanatic Part 3

The loneliest Girl - Carol and Tuesday by cassandraooc

Morning Has Broken - Cat Stevens by thlange

Star Spangled Banner - Chase Holfelder by chillybuns

Between the Bars - Chris Garneau by roselalondee

Dirty Night Clown - Chris Garneau by idontevenknow-anymore

Dirty Night Clown - Chris Garneau by immabananana

Enter the Circus - Christina Aguilera by askinsanegamzee Broken

A Thousand Years - Christina Perii by angstyelf

A Thousand Years - Christina Perii by mari-victal

Burning Gold - Christina Perri by raspberrylemonhead

Fall - Cider Sky by nevernoahh

Falling (Demo) - The Civil Wars by zomdi

Safe and Sound - The Civil Wars by karaokekarkat

Hum - Clara C by nymphicus

3 Foot Tall - Classifed by kyrah-art

Summer Day - Coconut Records by kathysbrotherssister

Fondu au Noir - Coeur de Pirate by derperistical

Fix You - Coldplay by absinthianlyunheroic

Paradise - Coldplay by Moonpaw

The Scientist - Coldplay by ikimaru

Up with the Birds - Coldplay by the-rag-tag-earl

Viva la Vida - Coldplay by raspberrylemonhead

Viva La Vida - Coldplay by rozeart

Yellow - Coldplay by mariedisgrace

Young Volcanos - Coldplay by kawo-shin

Princess of China - Coldplay (feat. Rihanna) by sora-la

Chin Up - Copeland by vriskamidfangserket

Accidentally in Love - Counting Crows by hopelesslyblithe Broken

Crywank are posers - Crywank by p-666t

D:

Thrice - Daedalus by foramen-magnum

Something About Us - Daft Punk by moxel

Something About Us - Daft Punk by yazzdonut

Emotion - Daft Punk (MissingNo remix) by doomzy

The Spine - Darren Korb (Transistor) by rose-ebottles Broken

Youth - Daughter by zelpixel

Raise Your Weapon - Deadmau5 by marintan

Go Get Your Gun - The Dear Hunter by mcsiggy

Whisper - The Dear Hunter by prospt and collaborators

I Will Follow You Into the Dark - Death Cab for Cutie by davsturdur

I Will Follow You into the Dark - Death Cab for Cutie by inusushi

I Will Follow You Into the Dark - Death Cab for Cutie by kawaiifarts

Bottom of the River - Delta Rae by wwhatevven

Perfect Insanity - Disturbed by vasheren

Just Be Friends (Instrumental) - Dixie Flatline by cheese3d Inspired by Litlte Red Riding Hood

Pity Dance - Dn Stith by jazzango

Venus Hum - Do You Want to Fight Me by shubbabang

Everything You Ever - Doctor Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog by thesassylorax

My Eyes - Doctor Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog by equiu5

Close Every Door - Donny Osmond by allegro-designs

Baby Mine - Dumbo by gayrupunzel

E:

I See Fire - Ed Sheeran by arachnerdsgri

I See Fire - Ed Sheeran by themockingcrows

Small Bump - Ed Sheeran by janecrockeyre

Cosmic Castaway - Electrasy by themockingcrows

Telephone Line - Electric Light Orchestra by daily-beta

You are my Sunshine - Elizabeth Mitchell by the-rag-tag-earl

Goodnight Sweet Ladies - Emilie Autumn by amporasexual

Asleep - Emily Browning (originally by The Smiths) by joker-ace

O Come O Come Emmanuel - Enya by pseudocon

One for the Money - Escape the Fate by ikimaru

Follow the Sun - Evermore by ladygrit

Fever Dreamless - fadeintocase by peregr1ne

F:

Centuries - Fall Out Boy by sixofclovers

Immortals - Fall Out Boy by etcterrayellowmoon

Immortals - Fall Out Boy by mari-victal

Immortals - Fall Out Boy by quiversarrow

My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark (Light Em Up) - Fall Out Boy by toastyhat

The Kids Aren’t All Right - Fall Out Boy by i-am-a-riceball

The Kids Aren’t All Right - Fall Out Boy by scarlettheknight

The Last of the Real Ones - Fall Out Boy by dopingues

The Phoenix - Fall Out Boy by orangelemonart

Caught Like a Fly - Falling in Reverse by viria

Tragic Magic - Falling in Reverse by elasticitymudflap

Heavy Storm - First Aid Kit by moxel

Wolf - First Aid Kit by spooneaterarts

100 years - Five for Fighting by orangelemonart

Superman - Five for Fighting by grimbarke

Hurt Feelings - Flight of the Conchords by koroke

Rise - Flobots by lyricstuckbeatdown

Blinding - Florence + the Machine by collaborative

Cosmic Love - Florence + the Machine by rosemaryserver

Cosmic Love - Florence + the Machine by starkthirdeye

Cosmic Love - Florence + the Machine by toastyhat

Dog Days Are Over - Florence + the Machine by greatbiglyricstuck

Dog Days are Over - Florence + the Machine by m0thboy

Girl With One Eye - Florence + the Machine by kingdomzombified

Kiss With a Fist - Florence + the Machine by miraculoustang

No Light, No Light - Florence + the Machine by dacadaca

No Light, No Light - Florence + the Machine by nappotuna

Only If for a Night - Florence + the Machine by glueball

Seven Devils - Florence + the Machine by fangirlinginleatherboots

Seven Devils - Florence + the Machine by themockingcrows

Shake it Out - Florence + the Machine by cod-tier

Tear out my Tongue - Florence + the Machine by wheresmyhamlet

What the Water Gave Me - Florence + the Machine by colonoscolypseart

With an Axe - Foxy Shazam by oldshiel

Something Stupid - Frank and Nancy Sinatra by toastyhat

Some Nights - Fun. by greatbiglyricstuck

G:

Mad World - Gary Jules by ahabsiconoclast

Mad World - Gary Jules by prospitheir and aze

Mad World - Gary Jules by synnesai

Where Everybody Knows Your Name - Gary Portnoy by calliotp

Child of Light - The Getaway Plan by dingohugs

It All Dies Anyway - The Gits by skittykitty55

Take Me Away - Globus by toastyhat and splickedylit

You’re the One That I Want - Grease by doodlebonez

Top of the World - Greek Fire by eggsand-santoast

Song of the Century - Green Day by babakinkin

Song of the Century - Green Day by delinked

Song of the century - Green Day by the-rogue-0f-light

Boats and Birds - Gregory and the Hawk by striderprovider

Hard Knocks - Griffinilla and Alex Cole by colouredteapot

H:

Colors - Hasley by innocuoussketches

Anything - Hedley by valeriannnn

The Unquiet Grave - Hellen McCrocry by madreamcanular

Coming Back Down - Hollywood Undead by flynnagan

Coming Back Down - Hollywood Undead by skittykitty55

Levitate - Hollywood Undead by anafigreen

SCAVA - Hollywood Undead by scarlettheknight

Temporal Shenanigans - Homestuck ost - Rachel Macwhirter by arachnerdsgrip:

Almost (Sweet Music) - Hozier by metaname

Take Me To Church - Hozier by sailerscrimshaw Broken

God Help the Outcasts - Hunchback of Notre Dame by velocitiestrumpet

The Court of Miracles - Hunchback of Notre Dame by moc-tod-ffuts-modnar

That’s Okay - The Hush Sound by porcupet

Where We Went Wrong - The Hush Sound by canni8al

Wine Red - The Hush Sound by zeborah

I:

Volatile Times - IAMX by xamag-homestuck

Bad Karma - Ida Maria by margarethours

Amsterdam - Imagine Dragons by paperseverywhere

Bleeding Out - Imagine Dragons by rapidopatter

Demons - Imagine Dragons by muraokami Broken

Demons - Imagine Dragons by rapidopatter

Fallen - Imagine Dragons by maria-artz Broken

I'm So Sorry - Imagine Dragons by abbiwhozit

I'm So Sorry - Imagine Dragons by catkindness Part 1

I'm So Sorry - Imagine Dragons by catkindness Part 2

Nothing Left to Say - Imagine Dragons by paperseverywhere

On Top of the World - Imagine Dragons by lickfoot

Radioactive - Imagine Dragons by falloutboyonboy

Radioactive - Imagine Dragons by rachelhungry

Thief - Imagine Dragons by mikimosh

Warriors - Imagine Dragons by turretsyndr0me

Hide and Seek - Imogen Heap by kingdomzelaybli

The Devil’s Carnival - In all My Dreams I Drown by artblogofminji

Don’t Stop - InnerPartySystem by spocktalia Broken

What We Will Never Know - InnerPartySystem by lets-lyricstuck

Cinders and Smoke - Iron & Wine by laughingandgrief

Walk the Moon - Iscariot by cissaisthisyou

The Weekend - Islands by daily-beta

J:

R.I.P. Everyone - J.J. Demon by trickstercarlos

Fallin’ - Jake Bugg by awildcale

I Won’t Give Up - Jason Mraz by impudentkid

I’ll Be Good - Jaymes Young by asexualls Broken

Sufferer’s Final Sermon - jbriner by sketchloft

Be Thou My Vision - jbriner (originally a hymn) by mrdespondency

O Death - Jen Titus by canni8al

Oh Death - Jen Titus by artweaver5

If the World Should End - Jennifer Damiano by atrueenglishman

The Hanging Tree - Jennifer Lawrence by sixofclovers

Highwayman - Johnny Cash by toastyhat

What A Wonderful World - Joseph William Morgan ft. Shadow Royale by jayspants

The Stars - Jukebox the Ghost by innocuoussketches

K:

Die Young - Ke$ha by gelasticat

[S] Ke$ha: Enter - Ke$ha (Die Young Remix by captaincrapster) by ket3

Because of You - Kelly Clarkson by timehost

Breakaway - Kelly Clarkson by karaokeoctoberkat

Britland City Theme - Kenashcorp by stormfather

Animals - Kids in Glass Houses by faun-songs

Dustland Fairytale - The Killers by spiritleaf

Mr. Brightside - The Killers by mlle-annette

Sam´s Town - The Killers by gei-may

Smile Like You Mean It - The Killers by toastyhat

I Will Never Forget - Kimya Dawson by moxel

All I Want - Kodaline by godtier8itch

[thedistrictsleepsalonetonight]

A goddamn blaze in the dark

The first time Emily sees Sue, the first thing she does is drop a cup of steaming hot coffee onto the floor, slip on it and land flat on her back behind the counter. And then she thinks — Oh. Found you.

To be fair, even without the pesky niggling at the back of her head, very helpfully pointing out that this was the girl, her soulmate, the love of her life, her forever and beyond, the sight of Sue would have knocked her down anyways. What else are you supposed to do when a pretty girl, dressed in tweed, with her hair tied up in a braid, walks into the coffee shop where you work with that smile on her face? That damned smile that doesn’t ask you so as much as inform you that you’re going to be haunted by it in your dreams tonight? With 10 am sunlight filtering in through the sides, casting half of her features in sharp, glorious light, Emily might as well have just signed away her breath for eternity.

Lavinia bends, looks her right in her eye from above her. “You’re in love, aren’t you?”

She wants to open her mouth to say something along the lines of – It's her! It’s her! What comes out, however is a garbled groan.

“Emily, buddy,” Austin rollerblades over to her, bends over her from the other side. “You gotta get up before there are complaints of unprofessionalism in the workplace.”

“Oh, because you’re the pinnacle of workplace niceties, I assume,” Lavinia shoots him a contemptuous look. “Only last week, wasn’t it? Those two young ladies in here fighting over who you were going to take to the mixer—”

“Guys,” she manages, before Austin can respond with something equally snarky, or god forbid, lascivious. “Is anyone minding the counter?”

And for exactly thirty seconds, the amount of time it takes Austin to slide over and ask for the orders of the disgruntled customers, and before she stretches out her arm and lets herself get pulled up to her feet, she hears a sweet voice enquire if everything’s quite alright back there. Emily closes her eyes, breathes it in, and wishes, not for the first time that hour, that she had her notepad near her to scribble a snippet of a poem that is now rapidly forming in her head.

*****

It is only sometimes that Sue looks at Emily and thinks that if Emily were to say the word, she would get down on her knees and hand over the entire world to her. Most of the time what she is thinking is goddamn it, Emily.

That’s what is going through her head as they’re kicked out of the lecture of the old man droning on about volcanoes. She can hear Emily giggling from behind her, and though her heart’s beating loud — the result of embarrassment and pure adrenaline — the sound makes her want to turn around and regard the idiot making it. So she does.

They’re alone in the deserted staircase; all the students, she guesses, are probably in that abysmally monotonous lecture. Emily leans against the banister, bent over at the waist from the sheer force of her mirth, and Sue takes it all in — her laugh, her gentle hands clutching at the wooden surface, and those intense, sparkling eyes looking right into hers. The next Goddamn it, Emily isn’t exasperated. It stays right there in her throat, accompanied by other, tender platitudes she’s never been brave enough to let herself say.

You’re beautiful. You make me ache inside.

(At night, Emily would talk to her about pressure, an acute force that demands to be released within her, and unable to help herself, the words — I think I know what a volcano feels like — would bubble up from her lips. And when Emily moves against her, a writhing mass of soft, bundled up wanting, Sue thinks she understands Pompeii a lot better as well; understands being frozen in time, brought to your knees by the sheer majesty of beauty and violence.)

*****

Listen, Emily has never claimed to be an expert on love.

(Austin has, on several occasions. Sauntered into the café, placed his elbow on the counter, and grinned roguishly. “Emily,” he’d started, once. “You know what the”—

“Is it that time of the month again?” Lavinia, who had been mopping up the floor, drawled. “Too much time since your last breakup but not quite enough that you can start going out with another girl and still maintain that image of the soft, sensitive manchild you’ve carefully cultivated. So you’re stuck in that weird limbo of no dates to go on, and subsequently are here to bore us.”

He’d chucked a tissue in her direction, continued smoothly. “As I was saying, do you, my dear Emily know what girls like best?”

“My sunny disposition?” she’d asked.

“No,” he replied flatly. “What girls want is someone who is cool. Indifferent. Somebody who displays absolutely zero interest in them. In fact—”

“That is horseshit,” Lavinia cut in.

Emily faux-gasped, continued leaning the espresso machine.

“Don’t you listen to him, Em. Girls like sweet, sensitive people who express an interest in wanting to get to know them.”

“I am an expert on women.”

“I am a woman!”

Emily half-listened to the sound of their bickering, and wished that she were a cat)

She considers both approaches briefly as she faces the girl, wondering why time hasn’t at least done them the decency of slowing down. It’s only polite, isn’t it, for the universe to cooperate when two eternal lovers meet. Emily has no justification as to why the universe should be so invested in the meeting of her and this woman who she’d decided was her intended, except it just makes sense.

(Intended. The word feels like it bears the weight of a hundred years. Like a woman back in the 19th century was whispering it to another woman she was in love with, as they lay in bed playing with each other’s hands.)

(It fits. She doesn’t care to find out why)

The girl opens her mouth. Emily holds her breath.

“You’ve got foam in your hair.”

The words — “It makes them bounce” — are out of her mouth before she can think. And then she wishes she’d picked up another cup of coffee in her hand so she could drop it on her head again.  

Thankfully, the girl laughs. Rests both her elbows on the counter and assesses the menu above Emily’s head. Emily doesn’t mind the reprieve from eye-contact. There’s something about looking right at this.... angel, for lack of a better word, that makes breathing cumbersome. And yet there’s another part of her that wants to raise her arms above her head and bounce like a little child, all “Hey! Look at me! It’s me!”.

(It’s a very strange day)

“What would you recommend?”

“Me?” Emily startles a little. Turns back to the menu, then back to the girl. Blinks. “That depends on your name.”

“How does my coffee order depend on my name?” the girl sounds amused.

Emily shrugs. “Eh. It’s a process. Can’t give away all my secrets.”

There’s prolonged eye contact, again, before the answer comes. “Sue.”

It rings in her head. Sue. Sue. Sue. There’s no prettier word in the English language. Saying it over and over in her head feels like a prayer. She tells Sue to wait a moment, and then turns to make her a caramel freakshow, all the while acutely aware of eyes on her. Her clothes are drenched in coffee, and she’d picked out the most faded of her t-shirts to wear today. God only knows what she looks like from behind.

The drink is her very best effort, though. Topped with the best slices of fresh fruit, and she’s made the swirls on the cream topping extra carefully. “Coffee for,” she pauses, pushes at the glass gently till it’s on Sue’s side, “Sue.”

“Can I ask what’s in this.... concoction?”

“My hear—” Emily knows she’s turning red, and desperately look away. “Um, coffee?”

Sue fumbles in her bag, and she wrestles with the urge to say — “Nevermind, it’s on me!” — which would not be the wisest. Emily hates the idea of taking money from Sue, that too, for something as measly as a coffee. Probably because she knows that if Sue were only to ask once, she would make her coffee every day, unprompted.

(She cannot reiterate enough – It's a very strange day)

When Sue steps away, Emily feels loss. It’s an unusual nudge to her sternum, a tingle in her hands that wants her to call Sue back. Before she has the time to dwell on it too much, Sue does.

“Do I,” she starts, frowning a little “Do I know you from somewhere?”

Yes.  

Yes.

I can’t explain it but we know each other somehow, the same way artists know their muses, and flowers know their bees, and my hands know how to write poems — and maybe a hundred years ago you and I were neighboring trees in the woods, or two seeds in the same tangerine; I’m pretty sure my knowledge of your existence was probably coded in my blood.

“Do you?”  

Sue seems to consider that for a while before shaking her head, and then walking over to take a seat by the window.

(And if she catches Emily stealing a glance every five minutes, she’s nice enough to not mention it)

*****

The day of her wedding is the happiest day of her life so far, and yet, the wedding has very little to do with it.

It’s a tiny, foolish fact that this is the first smile she sees on Emily after Ben’s tragic death, and yet, it makes her feel unreasonably pleased with herself. If her life were split into days she could see and touch Emily, and dreary days — the former were made significantly better if Emily smiled in them. Not to be dramatic, but the sun shines better, the skies glow prettier, and the ground is a little easier to run on.

Emily points out somewhere in the middle of their frolicking, for back of a better word, in the woods, that her dress is getting ruined. And then flings a flower onto her face. Goddamn it, Emily, she says, and then is struck dumb by the sound of her loud, exuberant laugh.

(And even quieter still when she holds the magnifying glass over the tiny piece of paper Emily had handed her earlier, the words washing over her like some tidal wave, drowning her in emotions too terrifying to admit. I held her hand the tighter, she reads and she smiles; Still in her Eye, the Violets lie, she reads and punctuates with a deep breath and when she reaches the end, the Sue – Forevermore, she’s aware of an awful keening in her throat, of the sob waiting to make its way out. Emily, Emily, her heart sings, and she is sure it will never shut up again)

She thinks of Emily the whole time, through the vows and the subsequent cheers, as they make their way into the house; thinks of her when Austin holds her tight and tells her that he loves her. A quiet voice, the sound of her guilt crawls up from inside her to tell him that she loves him too. She may be his in name, but her heart isn’t hers to give away anymore.

*****

Seven. That’s how many days she steals glances at Sue in the library before they talk again.

Monday, 9 am: The librarian’s just gotten started with her morning coffee, which means that Emily can sneak her own breakfast past her bleary eyes without being detected. She gets the books that she wants off the shelf, makes her way to her usual chair at the very back of the room and settles in. Her bag gets hooked to her chair by the straps, the tiny diary, her faithful companion, finds a place beside the humongous book, and the coffee sits next to her breakfast burrito. After the entire process is done, she stretches her legs, leans back, looks up and freezes.

Sue is seated on a nearby desk, staring at her.

Emily looks away, on reflex. Her heartrate’s up, and her palms suddenly feel clammy. She takes a deep breath, takes in the floor, and tells herself she’s seeing things. Surely, there’s no way the girl of her dreams also goes to her college and it absolutely isn’t possible that she’s sitting in front of her, in the flesh. She readies herself, looks again.

Sue’s still looking at her, now amused as well.

Well. There go her studies.

Tuesday, 8:50 am: Her plan is foolproof. There is no way she will be caught off guard again. She will be first to the library this time, and she will be prepared when Sue walks in, ready to impress her with her overall charm and chill-ness. There will — not — be a repeat of yesterday when she’d spent the better part of two hours hyperventilating, stealing secret looks or straight up going red every time Sue caught her eye and smiled at her.

The librarian hasn’t even started eating yet. Her head’s resting on the desk, and her eyes are tiny slits, when Emily runs in, makes her way to her own seat. Sue’s seat is empty, thankfully.

(Emily totally does not punch the air in celebration, startling a few other sleepy students)

She stretches out her arms, places them behind her head and waits.

And then jumps about a feet in the air when a hand brushes her shoulder.

There are multiple things happening all at once — the gentle hand resting on her shoulder for a moment, a hand whose warmth she instinctively recognizes as being a familiar one, despite never having felt it before (she knows it’s her. There’s no other option. Nothing else could make the skin at the back of her neck prickle in anticipation), a faint, teasing whisper of “I thought we weren’t allowed to eat in here”, and the realization that her plan has woefully failed.

(Why, then, does she feel so happy about it?)

Sue passes by, turning back once to shoot her a quick grin, and then settles into her usual chair, opening the book already present on the desk in front of her.

Emily’s jaw stays on the floor. The state of her heart stays up in the air.

Wednesday, 9:00 am: Sue opens the note Emily’s just chucked her, reads it, and smirks.

Emily waits. It had been an impetuous decision to scribble “Waffle?” onto a scrap of paper she’d torn out of her notebook, when Sue had looked at her earlier, but it’s alright. These are matters of the heart, and matters of the heart require at least 25 percent an attitude of ‘Ah, fuck it’, another 25 percent of run-of-the-mill stupidity, and 45 percent the ability to laugh at your own shenanigans.

Oh, and about 6 percent bad math.

She catches the crumpled-up note that comes sailing through the air in return and opens it up. “I was taught not to accept food from strangers”, is written in beautiful cursive, along with a smiley face.

(A smiley face. A smiley face!)

Thursday, 9:10 am: She writes — “You know, I am named after one of the best American poets, and your name coincides with the name of her ultimate love and muse. Some would say we’ve known each other a long time” — and slides it over to Sue, heart in her throat.

Twenty seconds later, the sound of Sue’s clear laughter rings out in the otherwise quiet place, and Emily is so enchanted she nearly falls off her chair.

(She hands off half of the breakfast burrito to Sue when she passes by to grab another book, and Sue’s grateful smile just about makes her day)

Friday, 9:00 am: The book she usually grabs to pore over is already sitting on the desk in front of her usual chair. After Emily’s done waving hi to Sue, and has settled down, she notices the tiny flap of paper poking out of the first page. Tucked in the corner is a tiny note.

“As an English major, this is your game, isn’t it? Using words to impress people? :P”

It doesn’t take her long to compose a reply.  

“First of all, how dare you? Second, is it working?”

Sue covers her face with her hands when she opens it. Emily counts it as a win.

Saturday, 8:50 am: The poor boy who has been sitting in the next row all week finally loses it after they’ve exchanged their fifteenth et of notes for the day.

“Can you people, like, just text like the rest of us, for fuck’s sake?”

When the rest of the people surrounding them nod in agreement, Emily sinks into her chair, catches Sue’s equally embarrassed gaze from across the room, and resists the urge to laugh like an idiot.

Sunday, 10 am: The morning’s been hell.

Austin had been panicking about some test he had on Monday, and so she’d come in to help out at the café, early morning. Between quizzing him on his flashcards and making sure every customer had a full cup in front of them, Emily completely lost track of time until Lavinia dragged her apron off her.

“What?” she’d asked, bewildered.

The clock was pointed out to her.

(No, she does not leave an outline of her body behind when she dashes out of the café. There is, however, a mad moment when she’s pretty sure her legs are scrambling with her body still at rest. It is pretty comical nonetheless)

From the entrance she sees a couple of things on her desk, and is a little miffed. Clearly, somebody else has claimed this prime spot with a vantage point from where she could stare at the most interesting woman in the world all day. And yet, she approaches it, because the chair is empty.

The book catches her eye first. It’s a copy of Hope is the thing with feathers by her namesake, and it’s got a note with a familiar handwriting peeking out of the top. She reads, delighted, a haiku about fruit and tenderness that’s been scribbled on it. And then she gets to what’s lying next to the book — what seems to be a sandwich, wrapped carefully in foil. She touches it. It’s cold, as though it’s been waiting there a while.

The smile on her face is definitely a permanent fixture now, she decides, as she walks over to where Sue is sitting and pretending to not look over. Her heart’s tripping over with delight, with gratitude with something tender that she’s absolutely sure she hasn’t felt before. Hope is the thing with feathers, indeed and it is perched in her soul. She pulls out the chair next to hers, and sits down.

“Thank you,” she says, quietly, and swears to god she can hear the entire table go Fucking finally — before Sue shoots her a small smile.

*****

“Only you would show up at a party looking like a raccoon,” she tells Emily, exasperated.

(And enamored. And besotted. Emily makes an adorable raccoon)

“I’m not here for the party — I’m here for you,” Emily shoots back, defiant. “As long as I can still see, I wanna look at you.”

And oh, there it is. There’s the Emily she knows, saying words that slide into her chest as easily as their hands go together. Words are Emily’s deadliest weapons, and she wields them to inflict sheer havoc.

Isn’t that just it, though? Emily has no idea. No idea what it does to her to have her this close — with their foreheads pressed to each other’s, their noses a whisper away, with Emily surrounding her, taking every one of her senses and carving her name on them. Sue feels a hand on her hair, then on her cheek, and knows she’s this close to losing any bit of self-control she might have had.

She steps away, composes herself, and thinks, Shakespeare was right. Parting is such sweet sorrow.

*****

“You might as well have ditched us,” Lavinia grumps.

“What?” Emily blinks, momentarily distracted from whatever text she was in the middle of shooting off to Sue. “Oh.”

“Not cool, dude,” Austin chimes in from the other side. They’re smushed into the couch together, planted in front of the screen where some 80s movie is on. It’s a weekend, which means movie nights filled with chicken wings and some dreadful drink that Austin’s invented that he calls the Faustinator, because.... reasons, apparently. And Emily’s just now realizing that she has no idea what the movie even is because she’s spent most of her time texting Sue. “You’re texting your sweetheart lameass cringy shit.”

“How do you know what I’m texti— Austin, stop reading over my shoulder!”

(She conveniently ignores the sweetheart thing. It’s easier than the alternative, which would be to dwell too much on the possibility of Sue being her sweetheart, and Emily being Sue’s and oh — she can feel herself smiling again.)

“Believe me, it isn’t easy on me,” he snarks. “Two months of talking our heads off about Sue, Sue, Sue and free drinks for Sue, Sue, Sue and pining over—”

“It has not been that long!”

“Lavinia?” he asks.

“Two months, two weeks and four days,” Lavinia tells her, flatly. “That’s how long we’ve had to hear about how you know her and that you’re convinced she is the love of your life.”

“I do.... know her,” she trails off, uncertain. It’s one matter to think it and feel it, like she’s felt the absurd familiarity in her bones every time she hears Sue’s voice, or Sue touches her skin, and sets it on fire. Another matter entirely to set about explaining it. Plus, other, unrelated things, like how reading Emily Dickinson’s poems feel like a friendly little nudge someone’s giving her, an inside joke, or why sometimes she feels so, so much that she would burst if she didn’t write that very moment.

“She walks you to class most days from the library.”

“And she’s been coming to the café every other day, and listening to you rant about random things,” Austin chimes in.

“Didn’t she write Emily a couple of poems as well?”

“Hey, that’s,” she starts, pauses, smiles. “Yeah. I, uh, told her nobody had ever written me anything before, and she — she’s really sweet.”

“Honey,” Lavinia says, gently, “the woman’s in love with you.”

“Oh-kay!” Emily jumps up from the couch and announces her intention to get more popcorn. And the pokes her head out from around the corner, and asks, in the tiniest voice.

“Really?”

Two chips come flying in her direction, and then they can’t stop laughing.

*****

There’s a kind of truth in the life she lives when she’s alone; no one to defer to, no one to explain to why she doesn’t want children or why, even after a couple of months of a blissful wedlock with Amherst’s most eligible ex-bachelor, the smile slides off her face as easily as the fruit punch in her parties off the plates. And then there’s the second kind that has to be dragged out of her — with heaving breath and shaking hands and salt dripped out of her eyes. Honesty that scalds and tears up her inside as it makes its way out of her.

(It’s a particular bit of irony in the fact that Emily is both the cause, and the only one who ever gets to witness the fallout, of the second one)

“Emily, I love you.” she says, like Emily’s put her arms down her throat and is ripping the words out of her. “I love you, and, and I felt you in the library — because you’re always with me.”

There’s a moment of complete, utter silence, when she stares at Emily and Emily stares back at her and the space between them is filled with the distance of lies and fury — and then they crash together. It’s an impossible push and pull, and Sue feels, for the first time in weeks, this complete surrender, abandon of all inhibition. Love tastes like Emily, and it feels like drowning and sounds like the tiny noise Emily makes when they part, like she can’t stand to be away even a second longer. All of what she knows about love is Emily.

If Sue could write, this is what she’d put down on paper: the feel of Emily’s neck beneath her hand, the way she melts when Sue wraps an arm around her. This yearning to be closer, the hunger to consume and the reluctance towards stopping. She wants, so badly to do Emily the same honor of immortalizing her in the form of words — she deserves it. The world deserves to know how she felt about this.... miracle, this angel in her arms. More than anything else, Emily deserves to know how Sue feels about her.

She turns to her side, kisses Emily’s hand once, twice. “I will never let go of you again.”

*****

Life is an endless sea of pain.

“Emily, she’s just a girl,” Austin tells her, then immediately flinches as Lavinia whacks him on the head.

Emily wipes away the moisture from her face with the sleeve of her favorite oversized hoodie, sniffles, and sticks her spoon in the tub of ice-cream again.

“Not to pry,” Lavinia starts, hesitantly, “but we still have no idea what happened. You came running into my room a week ago and haven’t stopped crying since. I guess — I guess we just want to know what’s up.”

Emily sighs. “It’s Sue.”

Austin blinks at her. “Yeah I — I mean, we know that.”

She thinks back to Sunday morning when she’d come upon her favorite restaurant while out on a run. The sight of Sue, sitting there with some.... dude. It was a cozy booth, and the way the guy seemed to be smiling in Sue’s direction couldn’t be construed as anything but romantic.  

“A date?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re telling us this is because you thought Sue was on a date?”

What wasn’t clicking? “Sue was on a date. There were flowers on the table and everything.”

“And that’s why you haven’t been returning her calls or texts? And have expressly forbidden us to tell her where you are when she comes into the café, like, everyday?”

Emily shifts. “Yes?”

Lavinia whacks her on the head.  

“Ow,” Emily groans. “What’s with all the violence?”

“Oh, stop it, you big baby. Now,” she took a deep breath, and Emily knew instinctively a huge lecture was incoming, “let’s examine the facts, shall we?”

“Is there any point in refus—”

“No. So, you like this girl, and it seems like she likes you too. But you refuse to do anything about it, like, you know, maybe admitting it to her. Then, you come upon her having lunch with some random dude and you assume it’s a date, and then freak out about it and cut her off.”

“But I’m pretty sure it was a date!”

“Fine! Okay! It was a date! So what? You expect her to hang around waiting for you to get your shit together, what, forever? And what if she doesn’t like you, god, Emily! I—”

“Okay, okay, wait!” she cuts in, holds up a hand to gather her thoughts. “I — I get what you’re saying, okay? I really do.”

“I know I have no right to be angry. She doesn’t owe me anything — I just. I dunno. I thought we had something. But even if that wasn’t the case,” she scrambles to add, “I guess I’m just taking pre-emptive action. To not get hurt. I can’t stick around and watch her fall in love with someone else, okay? I just. I can’t.”

Austin pats her on the back, and she sinks into his arm. This, of all things, is true. There are a multitude of things in life she has had to bear, and that she has borne, but this — watching Sue slowly fall in love with someone else, would be unbearable.  

She has another spoonful of ice cream. “I’m being an asshole, aren’t I?”

“A little bit, yeah,” Lavinia agrees. “But give yourself a break — you’re in love. It turns everyone a little bonkers.”

“It’s fucked.”

“No!” Austin and Lavinia tell her, together, before Lavinia continues, “Listen, I think you should talk to Sue.”

“Pretty sure she hates me now.”

“If she does, then go and face it. Honestly, though, I think you owe it to her, and also to yourself, to explain your side of things.”

“I’d literally rather die.”

“Then go do your dying in the fucking library. It’s almost ten, anyways.”

*****

She can still feel Emily’s teeth on her collarbone, can still wrap an arm around herself and trace the marks Emily’s fingers have left on her, when Sue announces that she’s trying to write a poem.

Emily throws off the sheets from her body, and turns so their heads are close. Sue’s sitting at the end of the bed, wrapped in sheets herself, eyes closed. She opens them when Emily’s nose nudges against her cheek.

“You are?” she asks, hand already playing with Sue’s hair, and Sue nods. “What’s it about?”

Sue cannot stop herself rolling her eyes. “Guess.”

“Is it,” Emily asks, teasingly, “about me?”

“Maybe.”

There’s a delighted gasp from her paramour, and she can feel a small kiss pressed to her temple. “I want to read it.”

“Only when it’s done.”

“And when will it be done?”

She turns to look right at Emily now. “I’m not sure it ever will.”

When Emily kisses her — every time Emily kisses her, Sue adds a line to the poem in her head. She’s running out of words to express joy, passion and beauty, at this point.

“The romance of it all,” Emily remarks, pretending to swoon. “This way I will live on through your words as well, after I die.”

Sue frowns, feels her lips automatically pull down at the corners. “No talking about death.”

“But we will die, darling,” Emily explains, patiently. “I can only hope that I die first.”

“How — how dare you?” she asks, indignant. “I’m going to try my very best to be the one to go.”

(That one spurs an argument that goes on four rounds before either of the participants admit defeat)

“How about,” Emily starts, ponderously. “Whoever dies first comes back around the next time and finds the other?”

Sue can’t stop the smile. The thought is so whimsical, it drives their previous non-argument right out of her head.

“You think we’ll come back someday, years after our deaths?”

“Try and stop me,” Emily declares, fondly. “Susan Gilbert, I will always — always find you.”

Sue closes her eyes, feels Emily’s lips ghost over her cheek and tries to imagine the thought of the two of them, years from now, sitting side by side, hand in hand. Breathes deeply to stop the sudden onslaught of tears the image evokes.

“My foolish sweetheart,” she says, after she’s composed herself. “I love you.”

This is what she’ll put in words — Emily next to her, head tilted downwards, turned towards her. In about a minute, she’ll start complaining of the blood rushing to her brain, and Sue, exasperated, will tell her to sit straight. She’ll write about the light that falls on the edge of Emily’s nose, the one crooked tooth all the way in the corner, the tiny scar on her brow. About the way their hands lock into each other’s, how there’s a space on her neck made perfectly in the mould of Emily’s head — two girls, sitting next to each other, together into an eternity, and beyond.

*****

The first time Emily sees Sue after a week-long absence, she’s just run into the library and crashed into a nearby bench, thus bringing down a student, two books, and herself. She gets up almost immediately, sees Sue staring at the sight of her, wide-eyed, and thinks — Oh. Found you.

There’s an empty seat next to Sue, and on the desk lies an apple. Emily approaches her, and touches the back of her shoulder lightly.

“Can I sit here?” she asks.

“I don’t know.” Sue answers, not looking at her. “Can you?”

Emily has to bite at her lip to keep in the wild laughter that threatens to erupt. It’s not just the quip, either. It’s Sue — seeing her after these many days of zero contact feels like a drug, and she breathes it in, greedily. She pulls the chair out, and sits down on it.

“So,” she starts, then trails off.

“So,” Sue mimics, not unkindly.

“It may have been brought to my attention that I’ve been a bit of an idiot.”

“Only a bit?” Sue raises an eyebrow, leans back where she’s sitting.

Well. “More than a bit,” she amends. “I’ve been an idiot. A dumbass. An utter fool. A rake. A rogue of the highest order.”

Sue tells her she agrees. Then — “You wanna tell me why?”

“I saw you and, um, some guy. On your date that day over at the Plantain Leaf?”

Sue stares. For the longest time. “You ghosted me for a week because you saw me out to lunch with a guy? Emily that is so—”

“I know!” she says, then gets shushed by the people sitting around them. She consciously lowers her voice when she speaks next. “I know, Sue. I was being an asshole, I just — felt complicated about.... things.”

“Things?”

“Yeah. Like — feelings. And stuff.”

She sees Sue stifle a smile, and feels a little bit of life come back into her hands.

“What about your feelings?”

“Well,” Emily says, pauses, then comes out with a masterpiece of an explanation, “I have them.”  

Then covers her face with her hands, because why? It hasn’t even been ten minutes, and she’s already started messing things up.

“I mean — I have feelings. For you.”

She chances a look up at Sue, after a minute of that incredibly earth-shattering revelation, and stays held in place by the intensity of her gaze. Sue’s eyes are soft, large, and Emily wants to do something stupid, like bury her face in her hands again.

“You do?” Sue asks her, in the tiniest voice possible. Like she can’t believe it. Like Emily has done an awful job of wearing her whole heart out on her sleeve the past couple of months.

“Yeah,” she replies, and finds her voice is equally tiny. “Good ones.” The kind that have me convinced we knew each other a couple decades ago, that I have heard your voice in my dreams all my life, that I’ve been waiting for you for turn a corner and walk into my life this whole while. And if not this time, I’ll wait a couple decades more for you to love me back. “And it’s okay if you’re dating that guy, I just — I thought you should know. That’s all.”

Sue lets out a shuddering breath. “I’m not dating Sam.”

Oh.

So turns out Emily had been holding her breath.

Ants are crawling all over her body. To combat them, Emily picks up the object nearest to her, which happens to be the apple.

“Is that for me?”

Sue nods. “You owe me the six sandwiches I got you this entire week,” she adds, teasingly.

Elation fills Emily until she imagines she’s probably floating a few inches above the ground, buoyed by this tiny admission of caring on Sue’s part. Whoever had said all those things about love had been right. It really was.... something different altogether.

“You’re telling me you sat here and read Emily Dickinson all week, waiting for a girl to show up?”

A light blush lights up Sue, and she leans forward a little bit. “Not just a girl,” she tells her, seriously. “I waited for Emily, who was named after this poet whose work I’ve really come to like. Emily, who I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with.”

Oh dear God.

They’re closer together now, their heads almost touching; Emily imagines them in a world of their own, separate from the rest of this library. She pretends to scoff.

“What? You don’t think a lot of Emily?”

“I think I can write better,” she declares.

“You think you can—” Sue starts, then lets out a laugh. “Emily, shut up.”

And then they’re suddenly kissing, and each and every cell in Emily gathers somewhere near her chest to rejoice together, every beat of her heart falls and arranges in the shape of a song, and time just kind of. Slows down. Pauses. Stops.

Emily thinks she knows what a volcano feels like, now. When she’ll go home, later, she’ll sit at her writing desk, pen down a poem about lovers and hands and two women sitting with their heads close together; maybe put in a fruit or two. And tiny pieces will come together in her head, just like the ones in her chest that crumble every time Sue looks at her.  

But right now, she closes her eyes, feels poetry on her lips, and it is good enough.

[strabbyshortcake]

the truth about snaktooth

Gramble finally tells his partners what befell him and everybody else on the island.

“Whatcha doin’, Gram?”

The screen door clatters as it shuts behind Boots. It’s a nice summer night, one of the rare ones they got with little humidity, so Gramble had left the main door open, the sound of katydids and crickets drifting through from the outdoors. He looks up from the hand towel in his paws, shoulders hunched guiltily.

There’s a large cardboard box sitting on the floor, full of bits of kitchen décor. Ceramic plates with fruit stenciled on them, prints of vintage ads for bread and desserts, towels with produce embroidered on them. All the kitschy things Boots knew he liked decorating his spaces with, and Gramble spent more time in the kitchen than either her or Piesha, with how much he enjoyed cooking.

“Oh, evenin’ Boots,” he greets her, expression softening into a smile. “You remember we talked about Lizbert and Egg visitin?”

“Yeah…?” She pads over, frowning a little at the bare spots on the walls and shelves. Boots was acquainted with the two from attending expedition reunions with Gramble, and while she made it no mystery that she disliked Lizbert’s invasive style of exploration, it was all in the past. Liz had retired from that life after the whole Snaktooth stunt to become a museum curator. “What’s the matter, they allergic to tackiness?”

Gramble laughs at her affectionate teasing. “No, well… Actually, funny you should say that. Egg’s fine, but Liz has got… I guess you could say she’s got kind of a hang-up over food imagery. And while she’s doin’ well these days, might just make her a lil’ more comfortable to not feel so surrounded, y’know?”

“Yeah, yeah, I get you.” Boots nods, reaching up to take the clock off the wall. It’s a piece of painted wood in the shape of a strawberry. Nollie had made it in an art class. “Place is a little dusty, anyway.”

Together he and Boots work to mostly strip the place of any food-related decoration, leaving only a couple little accents up so the place didn’t seem too bare. Gramble sighs at the empty walls, leaning into Boots’ touch as she places a paw on his shoulder.

She and Pie had always been so understanding when he told them he couldn’t talk about what had happened on the island, but he hated to keep his loved ones in the dark. Not simply for the fact that there might still be danger lurking out there, but that he knew he could trust them, and yet, just telling them what had happened was almost as terrifying as the thought of being back there. The idea that just speaking of it would somehow make it manifest, bring it back into his life when he’d worked so hard to escape it, haunted him, but so did keeping it bottled up inside.

“…I need to tell you both what really happened,” he says quietly. “It’s been long enough. Just, after Liz and Egg are gone. Then we’ll talk about it.”

Boots blinks down at him in surprise. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

--

The visit went well. This was the first time Lizbert and Eggabell had seen the new house and the refurbished barn, the first they’d met Cardi and Dember, and Nollie had only been a year old when they’d last come around. They’d caught up, shared stories, enjoyed Gramble’s cooking and chatted about where their lives were going and where they’d been.

After they’d waved goodbye, gotten in Eggabell’s car and driven off to see Wambus and Triffany, after the dishes had been cleared and cleaned and the kids were all in bed, Gramble sat Boots and Piesha down on the porch swing in the back while he took the rocking chair.

“I need to tell you,” he says, fidgeting with his paws where they rested on his chest. “about what happened on Snaktooth.”

“Alright.” Pie nods slowly, leaning into Boots’ cushy side. Boots gives him an encouraging smile, rocking the swing back and forth slightly with her heel.

Gramble swallows, licking his lips. “So… Not all of what I told you was a cover-up. We did run outta food and I did almost starve to death. But… Geez, I dunno where to even start.”

“Why’d you go in the first place?” Boots asks.

“Oh, that I didn’t lie about either. My mama really did up and leave while I was at college. I went cuz… Cuz I guess I felt like I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I saw Liz on TV say she was gatherin’ people up for her team and I just… I wanted somewhere to go that wasn’t home.”

She nods solemnly, gesturing for him to go on.

“Well, Snaktooth… Liz said she found somethin’ there. These creatures she was documenting. D’you… Have either of you ever heard of bugsnax?” Gramble nearly whispers the last word, even though it’s just the three of them out here, just the three of them and the crickets and fireflies, the kids sound asleep.

Piesha tilts her head, thoughtful. “Mm… Maybe a long time ago,” Pie says. “One of those things they got lots of fairy tales about. Critters made of food, right?”

“Right.” Gramble nods. “But they’re real. And please- I know how it sounds,” he stammers, even though neither of them looked skeptical. “But I swear. I saw them, I picked them up and held them, I had a whole barn full of them that Liz and Buddy caught for me. I had names for them, and… and everybody said they were the most delicious things they’d ever eaten. B-but there’s a reason for that. Sorry, lemme go back a bit and explain.

“When we got there, we thought we’d be able to farm. That was Wambus’s thing, but no matter what he tried, the crops would wither, or the bugsnax would get in and destroy them. The only thing he could grow was the sauce that grew on the island, and that wasn’t anywhere near enough to live on. Pretty soon we ran outta food, but that wasn’t a problem for most folks. They’d just eat the bugsnax.”

“And I’m guessin’ you didn’t?” Boots asks.

He shakes his head. “No, I didn’t want to. I already didn’t eat meat, and the snax were always so cute and friendly and I couldn’t bear the thought of hurtin’ them. So I just… didn’t. I tried to live off the sauce, and I ate dandelions and weeds, I ate damn near anything that was edible, but it was never enough.”

“That’s awful, Gram.” Boots says, her brows knitted. “Why didn’t you leave?”

“Well, I… I thought about it,” Gramble wraps his arms around himself. “Even though I didn’t have nowhere to return to, I figured it might be better than starving. But it wasn’t too long after that Lizbert up and disappeared. Her and Egg, there was an earthquake and after that they never came back to town. Some folks thought they died, others thought they ran off, but without her nobody was bringin’ in bugsnax to eat and they started to eat mine, so I ran off with the rest of ‘em and that made everybody mad and I really did start to think there was nobody who cared about me but the snax and Wiggle, and… and even she was eatin’ them too, but I let her cuz I didn’t have nobody else... I was so afraid she’d leave me too that I put up with it.”

He pauses, taking a deep breath. “So, um… I guess a couple weeks after that, Buddy finally showed up. We’d been on the island almost a year at that point. They wanted to interview Liz, figure out what happened, and they managed to get all of us back into town within a week or two. I was really doin’ poorly though.” His claws absently scratch at his belly over the scar that the rake had left, concealed beneath his fur but never fully faded.  “Didn’t care much whether I lived or died. Nothin’ I tried worked, and one of the big snax I asked Buddy for nearly killed me. And then…”

Boots holds Pie’s paw between both of hers, stroking it, both of them patiently waiting for him to gather his racing thoughts. It had been so long since he’d even thought about all this, and much of the events were a haze of hunger and pain, he was amazed he could keep the basic timeline coherent.

“Then, one night… When we were all back in town, Filbo decided he wanted to throw a party. That was when everything… That’s when it all fell apart. There was an active volcano on the island, and it erupted. Eggabell suddenly showed up back in town and told us she knew where Liz was, and she and Buddy and Filbo ran off to get her while the rest of us tried to get to safety. B-but… You remember what I said before, about the bugsnax?” He lifts his gaze to the two of them.

Pie nods at him. “Yeah. They taste good, right?”

“They also…” Gramble holds his paws out, curling his fingers into fists. “They change you. Whenever you eat one, your body parts become it. I know it sounds silly, but everybody was walkin’ around with arms and legs made of strawberries and corn and cinnamon rolls and you kinda just… got used to it. I only ever ate one when I was sleepwalkin’, and I don’t even remember what it was like, but everybody else except Shelda ate ‘em all the time. You get used to it and then you start believin’ that they’re the only thing that can make you feel good anymore. Sorta like drugs, but sorta like… Wiggle used to say they inspired her, and Chandlo thought he could get stronger with them, it was whatever you wanted. I guess even I was fallin’ for it, thinkin’ they could replace my family, and I never even had to eat ‘em.

“But that’s the trick. You get dependent, but you don’t realize that… That they’re parasites. And I’m kinda fuzzy on the details, but according to Buddy, Liz was somehow stuck down in the main… meat of the hive,” Gramble brings his paws together, looking down at his intertwined fingers. “And that’s where she’d been all along, down in the darkness with all those food bugs crawlin’ all over her and into her mouth and… that’s why she’s got such a thing about food.”

“Ah…” He can’t blame Boots for looking a little numb, covering her mouth with her paw as Pie stares blankly at him. It was a lot to take in. “Yeah, I guess that’d do it.”

Gramble goes on. “They attacked us not long after Buddy and the others left, tryin’ to force themselves into our mouths, or kill us, either or. I guess they knew the jig was up, then and there. No comin’ back from that. But we all got away, in the end… And that’s what happened.”

He falls silent. The porch swing creaks slightly as Boots lets it come to a stop, letting the singing of the insects fill the air between them for a long moment.

“S’this place still out there…?” Piesha speaks up softly, glancing out into the darkness as if the snax might be watching from the trees.

“Far as I know,” Gramble says, slipping off the chair to walk over and take one of their paws in each of his. “But you gotta promise me you will never, ever go there.” His expression is grim as he peers up at them. “And you’ll never breathe a word to any of the kids about it, or to anybody else. Nobody should ever step foot on that awful place again.”  

“Gram,” Boots squeezes his paw in return, then leans over to scoop him up and pull him into her lap, the swing groaning in complaint as yet another grumpus is piled upon it. “…there’s gotta be somethin’ we can do-”

“No.” Gramble shakes his head, desperation creeping into his voice. “I- I don’t know. Maybe there is somethin’ that someone out there can do, but it can’t be any of us. I don’t want nothin’ to do with it ever again and if word gets out, it’s just gonna be more people goin’ there and that’s exactly what it wants. Please,” he tilts his head up at her, the porch light glimmering in his eyes. “Just leave it alone. It can’t get us here and I want it to stay that way. Promise me.”

When she hesitates, he repeats himself, teeth glinting as his lips peel back. “Promise me, please-”

“I promise.” Boots leans down to kiss him on the nose, wrapping her arm around him as the other draws Pie in closer. “I won’t tell nobody if that’s what you want.”

“That’s all that I want,” he murmurs into her fluffy chest, suddenly very tired despite the mental weight that had lifted. He’d spoken Snaktooth’s name aloud, finally uncorked what he’d kept bottled up for nearly two decades now. He should feel better-prepared, now that they were all on the same page, so why did he still feel like he was only summoning the beast? Perhaps he just needed to sleep, let this new information digest, and they’d face whatever came tomorrow together.

Hundreds of miles away, the island remembers them too.

[xplrvibes]

Sprung | Sam and Colby Story

Title: Sprung

Summary: They had never been torn apart like that before.  Nobody had ever dared try it. 

Pairing: None 

Warnings: Sam and Colby’s arrest rehashed, brief talk of the jail system, mentions of anxiety 

Author’s Note: This is based on an ask someone sent me last night, about how Sam being one who bottles his emotions up until they explode in these sweeping declarations of love and tears.  Also, since it’s the jailaversary, and I always wanted to hear more about that saga from Sam’s POV, I just went ahead and did...this. I’m not a writer, so don’t judge me too harshly-but I’d love to know if you liked!

A/N 2: Now on AO3!

***

Sam has never seen a better sight than a disheveled, tired Colby Brock waiting for him outside of the police station.

The preceding 14 hours since Sam had last watched Colby disappear behind an ominous steel door with a painful smirk forced across his face and a tremor in his handcuffed hands had been some of the worst he had ever experienced in his life.  He had stood outside the police station in the muggy Florida air with no cell phone, no car, no idea of where he was or how to get to where he needed to be.

No Colby at his side.

They had never been torn apart like that before.  Nobody had ever dared try it.  Sam felt like a piece of him had been taken; a fundamental piece, like his liver or some shit.  He felt wrong in his skin without Colby by his side; especially knowing where he had left him, and that all of the responsibility of getting him out of there rested on his shoulders.

To say Sam was stressed, would be an understatement.

But Sam was nothing if not determined, and he made it work.  He sucked in a breath, steeled his spine, and made his way to a gas station pay phone to call the Irelands.

He had work to do.

***

Fourteen hours and multiple phone calls to worried parents and terrified friends and one extremely exasperated lawyer (”On a construction site in Florida? Sam...”) and management team later, Sam was finally told that Colby’s bail had been posted and he was being released.  Sam could go and get him.

He was never planning on letting anyone separate them like that again.

“Hey,” Colby muttered as Sam walked up to where he sat with a couple of fans outside the doors to the precinct, bail paperwork and a bag of his possessions in his shaking hand.  He looked distinctly un-Colby like at the moment; rattled, definitely and it showed.  He was pale, his hair was in a state of disarray, his Justin Bieber shirt-and God, who else but Colby would go to jail in a Justin Bieber fit?-was wrinkled and stretched at the collar.  He had a smile plastered to his face, but his eyes were shining bright with barely concealed anxiety.  He wanted out of this place, asap.

Sam let out the breath he had been holding since Colby had first been walked away from him by those damn guards.  He felt the missing piece of his soul settle back in to place.  His world realigned itself. 

Colby was back with him.

“Hey,” he responded back, and held out a hand to take Colby’s possession bag for him.  “Ready to head out?”

“Totally.”

***

After saying goodbye and taking a photo with the fans who had waited outside the police station with Colby, they got back in the rental car that Sam had gone to pick up from the abandoned school a few hours earlier and headed back towards the hotel.

“So, the fans said that everyone knows?” Colby asked quietly from the passenger seat.  His ring-less hands were flexing in his lap.  His voice was shaking.

Sam gripped the steering wheel a little tighter and cleared his throat.  “Um, yea,” he responded slowly.  “Yea, they found out and made it trend on twitter for like, a whole day.  Number one trending topic,” he added.

Colby whistled.  “Shit.”  He reached up to play with his earring-a nervous habit he had developed since getting his ears pierced the year prior-and winced when he realized the earring was no longer there.  His hand fell back to his lap, trembling.

“Yea,” Sam replied.  “By the time I got out last night, word was already everywhere.”  He swallowed and briefly glanced over at Colby.  “Our parents already knew.”

Colby glanced back.  “Did you talk to them?” He whispered.

Sam nodded.  “I talked to your mom, too.  Told her I wasn’t gonna let you rot in a jail cell.  She made me promise to get you out,” he smiled.  Colby didn’t smile back. “Dude, she’s ok, I promise.  Just worried about you.”

“She’s not mad?” Colby asked in a small voice.

“I mean, probably, but...” Sam shrugged.  Colby said nothing else.  What else was there to say?

The rest of the drive was in silence.

***

Although Sam had stayed with the Irelands while working tirelessly on getting Colby back, he didn’t think Colby would be up to going there and seeing everyone right now.  So, he took them back to their original hotel, which had thankfully been paid up for another day before the arrest.

Colby hadn’t questioned it.  He walked into their room and looked around at the mess they had left behind 30 hours prior before dropping his jail paperwork in a heap on the hotel table and heading over to his bed.  He slumped down on the bed with a tired sigh, turning to lean himself against the headboard and drawing his knees up in front of him. 

Sam sighed, and came to sit down next to Colby.  He bumped his shoulder into Colby’s in solidarity, and Colby huffed and leaned his head onto Sam’s shoulder.

The silence stretched out between them for a moment, comfortable and sure.  They didn’t need words.  They both always just knew.  It was a thing that their friends and even family would tease them for sometimes, their ability to just sit and be together, with no words, and draw some kind of silent strength from one another.  They didn’t care what anyone had to say about it, really.  It gave them both peace and reassurance, and that was what mattered.

“What do we do now?” Colby asked after a moment, exhaustion threaded in his voice.

Sam shifted slightly, and bumped his knee again Colby’s.  “Our lawyer’s working on it,” he replied quietly.  “She yelled at me for a while, but she’s gonna make it so we can go back home until the court date.”

“Oh, good,” Colby responded.  “Cause like, I don’t wanna be here anymore.”

Sam reached out a hand, and clasped Colby’s shaking one in his.  “You’re ok, though...right?” He asked in a quiet voice.

Colby nodded.  “Just like, it was scary, you know?” He responded.  “I didn’t like being alone, and everyone in there was nice to me and shit, but...”

Sam smiled.  Trust Colby to declare that everyone he shared jail space with was nice.  

“Dude, you are never allowed to go to jail without me again,” Sam declared, squeezing Colby’s hand.

Colby squeezed back.  “Don’t pay your bail next time, and join me,” he responded.  

He was joking, Sam knew, but he felt the panic and fear and guilt of the last 14 hours bubble up his throat anyway, and tears began to prick at his eyes. “Dude,” he gasped, “I’m never going to let anyone separate us like that ever again.”

Colby lifted his head to look in Sam’s eyes.  “I know, brother,” he replied slowly.

Sam shook his head.  The tears were brimming now, he could feel it.  The dam was bursting.  “No,” he sniffled, “Like, they walked you into the back and I saw how scared you were, brother, like I felt it and there was nothing I could do about it!  And then I had to go out there, alone, and leave you there!  Like, I never wanted that-”

“I know, Sam-”

“-Like, leaving you behind, or losing you, is my worst nightmare, dude!  Like, I can’t do it again, I don’t ever want anyone to do that to us again-”

“-Sam, they won’t-”

“-And like, I just love you so much, brother, you know that, right?”  Sam’s mini-tirade ended on a sob, as Sam turned and pulled Colby into his arms.  He didn’t hug Colby near enough, or articulate into words how much he loved him.  It wasn’t Sam’s style; he was never good with outward displays of emotions.  Of the two of them, Colby was always the one who wore his heart on his sleeve, and did so effortlessly.  Sam struggled with displays of affection and emotion.

He knew, in his more rational moments, that Colby knew him better than anyone else on the planet.  That Colby understand how much he meant to Sam, that Colby knew how much Sam loved him.  That words weren’t needed between them; that his actions were felt and deciphered and understood. 

But sometimes, it all just came bubbling out, spilling all over the place like a volcano.  When Sam got emotional, he went all in with said emotion, and Colby understood that, too.

Colby understood everything, when it came to Sam.

“I know, Sam,” Colby responded, arms wrapped tightly around Sam’s shoulders.  Sam turned his head into Colby’s neck and breathed deep.  He smelled like sweat, and jail, and fear...but underneath all of that was the distinctive smell of Colby Brock.  The smell Sam had come to associate with home, many years ago.

“They’ll never take you away from me again,” Sam whispered, and Colby chuckled.

“I’d like to see ‘em try,” He responded.

[fanfalc-616]

(Master of Emotion) Can you write the ninja, Garmadon and other EMs meet Chen on his island {Garm is mad that his son has been kidnapped} (You don't need to go detail in season 4 , you can add or change as you like} and Kai's first match with his powers

Ok so I worked on this and failed and eventually gave up on it but I think I can write at least the last part now- even though this ask is from November-

Also oh my god I wrote something with writer’s block something that wasn’t even RoaN I should not be this impressed with myself but I am anyway-

Jay and Cole are still fighting. The annoying emotions coming off of them is damn near giving Kai a headache, but he ignores them in favor of starting to eat.

Thankfully, Chen speaks up over the speakers, giving him a break from the bickering.

“The tournament of Elements continues. Fun time!” He begins, and Kai almost scoffs at it. Fun? Yeah, okay. They’re here to rescue Lloyd, not play in fighting rings.

“Would the following Masters please make their way to their assigned arena? Speed, Gravity, Smoke, Nature, Mind, oh, and last and hopefully not least…”

He pauses a moment, and Jay takes the chance to speak up.

“Huh, maybe we all got the day off!”

“Emotion!” Chen finishes cheerfully, before the intercom abruptly shuts off.

Kai flashes Jay a glare. “Way to jinx it.” He grumbles.

The other winces, and as Cole seems to be about to insult him about it, Kai can hear opponent- Ash, his name was?- scoff as he looks over him.

“The Master of Emotion? Really? That’s a thing?” He shakes his head. “That much easier for me, I guess.”

A mix of anger and frustration builds up inside of him. This again? Sure, he knows that it’s not a classic element, but he had assumed that at least other elemental masters would understand it!

His clothes shift to a dark, orangey-red as he speaks. “That much more embarrassing when I kick your ass without even touching my fire!” He shoots back, crossing his arms.

Zane tenses up beside him, and so do the others. He knows that he’ll probably get a lecture over this later, but at the moment, he couldn’t care less.

The other elementals have started to watch around, seeming interested in the argument.

“Fire?” Ash frowns. “Now you’re claiming to have two elements? Everyone knows that’s not a…”

Kai takes in some smug satisfaction at the way his eyes widen when he stares at the flame that he lit in his hand.

The emotion bleeds over into his clothes, the red fading as the orange turns slightly yellow. “You were saying?” He mocks, staring the other down.

Ash seems startled, and there’s murmurs breaking out among the other masters- probably because they’re not sure what to do with him now.

The Master of Smoke opens his mouth to speak, but Zane steps between them, a tired expression on his face.

“Perhaps the two of you should save this for your battle.” He recommends, giving Kai a disapproving look.

Alright, alright, he’ll stop. Not because Zane wants him to, though. It’s because he wants to. Yeah. That’s totally it.

He shakes his head. “Whatever you say, Frosty.” He adds a casual shrug to his words, noticing the orange fade completely into a mirage of red and yellow- a difference in color that only people who actually know him can really see.

Turning around, Kai goes back to his food, ignoring the harsh whispers echoing around them.

“You need to be careful, Kai.” Sensei Garmadon warns. “Your elements are powerful, and the combination of them even more. But letting your anger get the better of you will-“

Kai takes a deep breath, tuning out the rest of what he’s saying. Lloyd is captured, Jay and Cole won’t stop bickering over his sister, Zane’s already exhausted, and he’s gonna be all cryptic? Yeah, sorry, Kai’s got enough on his plate.

As they finish eating, he takes a deep breath. Impulsive words or not, he’s gonna stick to them.

No fire. Just feelings.

How hard can it be?

——————————-

Kai stands on his end of the wooden bridge, glaring at Ash on the opposite side. The Jade Blade is in the middle of it, and oh, yeah, they’re on top of a volcano, so there’s kinda lava everywhere.

Even with his resistance to heat, Kai would really rather not test if he could survive molten rock.

“Kai, Master of Emotion…” Chen begins, and Kai takes that as his chance to pull his mask up over his nose. It’s about to get serious.

“Versus Ash, Master of Smoke!” As he speaks, Kai once again braces his feet, preparing to move the moment he’s given his cue.

“FIGHT!”

With the word, Kai takes off running, hand reaching out for the green weapon.

But before he even gets close, Ash throws himself at the rope on one side and flips the entire bridge upside down, dropping the blade onto a rock below and making Kai desperately grasp for purchase as the bridge rights itself while he’s still beneath it.

He manages to grab onto the bottom, but a quiet curse escapes him as he realizes that the fight is definitely not in his favor here. Ash has the high ground, and-

Except Kai’s beneath the bridge! He could use the wood panels as a horizontal ladder and get in close!

And that’s exactly what he does, and once he’s close enough, he bursts through the bottom of the bridge, throwing a kick midair.

But much to his dismay, Ash turns into smoke, making Kai stumble as he lands.

He quickly regains his footing and makes another attack, and another, and another, and another, but annoyingly enough, Ash just keeps turning into smoke whenever he tries to land a hit!

Another brief stumble gives the Master of Smoke the chance to fully solidify and kick Kai in the stomach, hard enough to send him flying backwards and even breaking part of the bridge.

A quiet curse escapes him as he finds himself once again hanging above the lava, this time suspended only by one hand holding onto a broken piece of wood.

A spark of fear hits him, only for a moment, but it’s enough for him to create a force field below him, and use that as a springboard to push himself back up onto the bridge.

The fear fades, replaced by anger. Clothes a bright orange, he dives into spinjitzu- but even then, he can’t land a single hit!

As he steadies himself again, Kai taps into his rage, letting the emotion support him.

Super strength isn’t really the best power to have here, but hey, he’ll take what he can get.

Fists clenched tight, Kai runs back to where he started on the bridge, a smirk crossing his face. “Let’s see you phase through this!”

He uproots the bridge from where it’s held, yanking it upwards. The unsteadiness makes Ash stumble, and as he stares in what looks like shock, Kai pulls up the other side.

The bridge starts to fall to the side where it’s still held down, and Kai uses the momentum it gives him to swing forwards and land on a rock near the Jade Blade.

Much to his annoyance, Ash manages to land on one too.

Well. That’s actually a good thing. If he landed in the lava he probably would’ve died, and as annoying as the guy is, Kai doesn’t want to murder him- or anyone, actually.

He shakes his head, trying to redirect his focus. No, annoyance isn’t helpful, he said he wouldn’t use his fire powers, so having them enhanced isn’t gonna help.

They both jump for the blade at the same time, causing them to collide midair. They grapple at each other, landing on another rock. Kai throws a punch, and seeing as the little space they have and midair combat, he actually manages to land a few hits!

But Ash manages to wrestle free from his grasp, and Kai feels his eyes widen as he jumps for the blade.

Kai jumps after him, but he knows then and there that the second it took for him to process it will be the second it takes for him to lose.

Fear takes a hold in his gut as everything seems to move in slow motion. Midair, he watches as Ash starts to grab the Jade Blade-

But then a purple bubble forms around it, throwing him off.

His hand smacks on the force field, and the sudden loss of grip makes his jump go wonky.

Kai lands on the rock and snags the blade, a triumphant grin starting to form, his clothes a bright yellow. He did it! He won! He-

Then he looks down, and he sees that Ash’s jump being thrown off sent him falling not onto another rock-

But towards the lava below.

Fear grips him once again, but this time, the force field isn’t formed subconsciously.

Still with the Jade Blade in his grasp, he uses his power to create a plate large enough for Ash to land on, the field almost touching the lava below.

Thankfully, Ash takes his chance to jump off it and onto another rock. He stares at Kai for a moment as the field vanishes, his fear fading and replaced with confidence.

The Master of Smoke opens his mouth to speak, seeming stunned by Kai’s actions- but before he gets the chance, Chen’s voice rings out from above.

“Winner!” He proclaims, and Kai can feel his grin widen and clothes turn a bright yellow as he sees his teammates and even the others in the crowd cheering.

“Loser!” Chen continues, seeming pretty happy with himself. “Master of Emotion moves on.”

Holding the Jade Blade up, Kai almost doesn’t feel bad about the way his opponent is dropped into a trapdoor below.

Kai just needs to stay in this tournament long enough to find and rescue Lloyd- not to mention stop whatever plans Chen has with their powers.

But for now, he’s going to feel good about himself. He worked hard for this victory, damn it, so he’s going to have good emotions for a little bit.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

Probably not.

… ugh. Why did he get stuck with the magical mood swings?

[sunareii]

petrichor — rintarou s.

suna rintarou x fem!reader

sypnosis: suna was grown to hate everything within the castle or most likely everything else but when a simple commoner came into the picture.. well.. tags: royal au, TRAGICALLY RUSHED ENDING, fluff and a little angst sunareii is writing . . . this has been in my drafts for almost a month and decided to finish it despite hating it halfway but since it was already in 3k words i had too. i'll proofread this later, i'n tired and in need of shower

word count: 4.3k

suna was never fond of big parties or parties in general, there were countless of times where he told his parents, the king and queen, that there are no need to have some lavish gatherings for something so simple as his own birthday

the two majestys however couldn't fathom of how could their own son that they raised isn't accustomed to the events they hold yearly despite the fact they've been doing that before he was even born

well, maybe because they aren't the ones who practically raised him, the long-time servant of theirs took genuine care for him as a child and as a adolescent more then his parents could possibly give.

suna was never fond of big parties or parties in general, there were countless of times where he told his parents, the king and queen, that there are no need to have some lavish gatherings for something so simple as his own birthday

the two majestys however couldn't fathom of how could their own son that they raised isn't accustomed to the events they hold yearly despite the fact they've been doing that before he was even born

well, maybe because they aren't the ones who practically raised him, the long-time servant of theirs took genuine care for him as a child and as a adolescent more then his parents could possibly give.

he could only frown as he hears the heavy doors swung open from his upstairs bedroom, which was seven floors away from the ballroom where the celebration was being held. at that point he doesn't even desire to celebrate his date of birth if it were to be as mediocre as this. royal gatherings are always so extravagant, too extravagant yet so uninteresting and repetitive, why even waste the time and effort someone worked hard for?

suna rolled his eyes as he finally reached the ballroom and sat down on his own throne. the entire room was covered in gold decorations, chandeliers that only ever bright in a occasion such as this, the guests wore ravashing gowns and suits with silver rings as if they're the host(tess). a few rustles can be heard from the guests then the enormous door slam shut everyone became silent and the day begins but first a long unnecessary speech from the king.

'is the twenty foot tall entrance mandatory for every palace is there?'              he thought to himself

ting ting ting ting

his father who sat beside him created a noise, loud enough to get everybody's attention with the use of his steel fork and well-made glass just for him. suna grunted silently at him before the king stood up and spoke "welcome and thank you all for coming, we are incredibly delighted for you to be able to come at our only son or as you may know prince rintarou's seventeenth birthday"

suna could feel his father eyeing him in the side as if saying that he should have been the one to speak at that moment, but then why would he be taking responsibility when he didn't wanted this party to begin with

suna shifts his body on the seat uncomfortably as his father continues his fabricated discourse. no, suna was certainly not happy of them coming, how many times does he have to say it? the prince gawped at every side of the room to see many familiar faces, he could only deadpan repulsively—if that's even a thing—the guests looked far too chummy in spite of not even being in a deep relation with his family. suna wanted nothing but to run away from everything.

"yer look down in the dumps for your birthday" atsumu started to babble, his booming of a voice resonates moderately at the empty halls, the only hall that's completely clear, no noisy pigs or bodyguards whatsoever

"yeah, atleast you don't have to share your birthday with this idiot" osamu groused eating the pudding he unquestionably slipped with him, "hey! where did ya get that?" ginjima asked, suna wouldn't confess this to anyone but he particularly like time like these where he doesn't have to use any baffling mannerism along with some close acquaintances that couldn't care less of how he talks.

however unlike the three close acquaintances he doesn't have any brawny accents, suna sighs deeply before looking at them in the eye, "isn't it obvious, the parties get boring overtime, not like it was already boring to begin with" he explains

"and the champagnes got old too, don't they have anything else to drink?" ginjima questions "what's a champagne?" atsumu bewildered "i like parties, one of the only times i get 'ter eat delicious food" "yeah, cause ma puts ya in a healthy diet especially when you started sneaking in some baked goodies from a commoners bakery" osamus twin said who got sunas senses and attention all to atsumu, unbeknownst to him.

"how'd ya find a way to get out, we literally share the same room"

"ever found out yer a deep sleeper?"

"so ya ran away at night then!"

"i wouldn't say 'ran away'"

"the bakery is open even after hours? "

"nah, i made a deal with the baker, he's a good man i'm tellin' ya"

"do you have a royal guard with ya? ya could have been killed not that i would care but— "

"unlike you 'tsumu i am an independent prince, thank you very much!" "and yer exchange his food for what?"

"golds, hundred of them if you have to ask"

"like ma and pa would let ya have that much"

"who said they let me have 'em in the first place?"

"... you didn't!"

"i did!"

"i'm disappointed osamu, thought yer were the better twin" ginjima shakes his head in dissatisfaction.

"see, 'samu? you're a disappointment, snitching in some riches from ma when you possibly know better! just wait 'till aran and even kita hears about this!"

"what'r ya? a tattletale little brat!?"

"let's go back there so i could tell ma ya've been stealin and get yer ass grounded!"

"wait-!" suna cuts in as the blond twin stood with his left foot forward ready to disclose information and see his brothers downfall.

"what is it suna?"

"... you look stupid today" suna says before walking away, leaving atsumu rather astonished in a way. "told ya green tunic doesn't suit ya"

"the least you could do is give lady shiozaki a bit of courtesy" his father taunts at him, pointing at him as if accusing him of something vile, take osamus thieving for example. suna knows that by courtesy he meant kiss the top of her hand, his face grimace at that as his father puts his finger down looking at him with a offended look,

'it's my birthday, if anything they could kiss my— '

"rintarou!" his father shouted in rage, even the platters and cups on the table that laid so still tottered from the kings petty action

"you— you ungrateful child!"

"what did i do?" suna questions, his face stays in a blase even when the royal whatever is about to erupt like a volcano after years in the waiting line

"rintarou, my dear.." the mother finally has spoken through all the sore talk of a father and his son. "you're way too nonchalant but heedless" she says softly like a woman singing a lullaby to her baby, but suna is no baby

to make long story short, the father could only threw a fit as he watched his son, nod at his complaints with an expected apathetic look that irked the king of a guy even more than before, provoked he sends suna to go to his room and lock him there 'till he learns his lessons 'cause you know, parenting 101 logic and stuff.

they wouldn't know but suna is peeved at all completeness and abundance of insignificant orders, sweet cakes that now tastes like stale bread and bogus geniality that even he, had done formerly to many suna would have fought him if he wanted too but he just couldn't bring himself to do it because of hallow reasons

but that didn't matter, he watches from outside as he sees his father soothes himself whilst with his wife brush his hand, trying to cool him down most likely. yes, instead of being in his bedroom he's out there off the foot of the castle grounds. unfortunately for him though, he didn't had the chance to grab any lantern's or candles for him to use as the sun plummet and the blue moon had took a rise.

'now what' he says to himself, there were barely even stars to guide him his way tonight but only the dusky moon ray could help him. he figured it's enough to accompany him for the night since he didn't have any sort of options. he walks forward to southeast with the knowledge that it has the nearest town he could go to before sunrise, atleast he hopes so.

he trails down the bulky grounds of the forest, allowing the eerie sounds of calm or danger to surround him. now's the only time that he begun to contemplate what will he do once he gets to his destination, start a new life maybe or go back after.

'no, i'm sure father eh.. knights will come fetch me soon after they realize i was gone, sadly.. '

the dark element of the skies covered the rain to watch for, thus suna's taken by surprise, the forest surely didn't have any hut or any of the kind, so he lets the droplets patter around him, from his hair down to his chest the raindrop go.

he sits down by the old tree that slope downward, he exhales deeply from frustration, 'i couldn't even go as far as this, the guards probably notice my absence by now and—’  his thoughts were cut off short by a flicker of light coming from behind him.

"there it is! i knew you'd be here!" then came a voice, a figure in the distance not too further away from him moves around in the trees that seems to almost close at them.

"is someone there?" the feminine voice say, the voice sounded silvery-like perhaps fluttery is a better word for it. the girl pulls out her lantern to suna's spot where he sits, the rain grew cold and strong as minutes passes, wind brushed off their exposed skin fiercely. "why are you here all alone, it's dangerous here of all places!" she shouted as she runs towards him not letting the frightening storm throw her body down. "are you okay?" before he could even answer, a tree not that far infront of them went down,falling onto the grass, without letting him answer, she immediately grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him out of the woodland where all sorts of danger could occur

he wakes up with shivering bones, his blanket or what seemed just a rug to him gave him little heat from the cold he was exposed in. "are you awake?" a voice asked in worry, his eyes fixated at the woman infront of him wearing simple dress, length just below her knee along with a stained white apron holding a small basin

'is there two of her?'

he thought as the sight of her doubles suna attempts to stand up but the heat burns his skin all around his body. "you shouldn't stand up yet!" she exclaimed, rushing towards his side, setting the basin to the ground, dipping a piece of cloth before placing it ontop forehead, "you shuld rest then —" her words couldn't be heard anymore as suna could only faint.

subsequently, the fog that enveloped in his head has eased, he's fever isn't gone but he surely gotten better by just a few hours and yet the rain hasn't ceased

"What.. where?" he murmurs rewinding everything that happened the night before. suna finds himself in a strangers house, the living room is combined with the kitchen, no doors or walls to separate both rooms. the living room doesn't have a big fireplace where he used to keep himself warm in during the cold season, there is nothing much to be seen in the kitchen just a few plates and condiments and then a table with a flower vase ontop right by it, suna assumed that that is already the dining area.

he's at the couch with the blanket and wet cloth draped over him, the bowl of water is still beside the him, suna manages to move his arms to take care of himself. just then the door infront of him swings open revealing the same person he saw before, her tangled hair in loose braids that's pinned behind her head, a bit of her hair sticking out of every direction. regardless of her poor housing and clothing suna thought she was pure and alluring

"hi" she greeted rather bashfully

"hello" suna said back with a blank expression

"are you feeling better?" she inquires as she puts the basket she was holding down on the table "better thanks to you" he answers earnestly, she smiles "dont mention it"

"you must be hungry" she says, a bit like a whisper, she starts grabbing the pan and eggs from the basket, getting the stove ready. "no, no. you've done enough, i'm not really that hungry" he claims intensely, but the sound of his stomach grumbling contradicts what he had just said.

she giggles silently before continuing  what she was just doing. the sound of sizzling and occasional water splash engulfs the room, suna proceeds to treat himself 'till when she have finished

"say.. what were you doing out there in the wilds, all alone in the night?"she inquires hesitantly as plates clatter around the kitchen "did you run away?" she asks more

"sort of.."

"here" she says handing him his plate with eggs, bread and pieces of grapes, 'that's a weird match of food' he thoughts but chose to not question it as she already helped him enough already and also because he doesn't have much choice

suna could feel her eyes analyzing him up and down while he eats, growing uncomfortable he stares back

"sorry, i haven't catched your name yet"

"oh.. its..  su..--hibiki.. katsuo"he answers the last minute, he knows that his palace is pretty popular in quite a few places and knowing from some prior experience the person infront of him could give him a threat for money or sell him for ransom which is very unlikely.

his white lie didn't go through and naturally she knew he was lying even so she played along just because.

"i'm y/n l/n, feel free to call me whatever hibiki"

the smile she sent him tug a string to his heart, feeling sheepish with the tense atmosphere around him, they shortly finished their meal.

"y/n, what were you doing there in the middle of the night?" suna asks, the rain slowly winding away as she opens the window from the kitchen side and suna does the other.

"hmm, i lost my house key"

"why would it be in the forest of all places?"

"well, i do pick fruits and berries from trees and such for a living, sometimes i help carry lumber from tree cutters" she explains, tiny droplets of water falling leisurely from her house roof, the rain had passed but on the flip side the clouds are still dyed grey

y/n inhales lively, taking in the good fresh air after the rain. "don't you just love the smell the rain leaves behind?" she asks avidly, suna doesn't know what to say and opted to stay quiet and whiffs the scent y/n was talking about

"do you plan to come back yet, hibiki?"

"uh, no, not really"

"great!" she beams with a smile before walking towards the front door and opening it for him. "you still haven't changed your... quite fancy attire from last night" her words trails down inaudibly as she looks up and down at suna's choice of clothing which was the same dress robe he wore from his birthday partyas

they step foot out of the house, the village is already packed with people. girls chatting, kids playing and men working. the place is productive and conscientious something that his palace guards lack, his bodyguards were anything but a bunch of old drunkards once they have their break and though they are some younger ones just a few years older than him that works as a protector but there's rarely any of them

"hey! daisy, who's that little fella with you?" a elderly man said as they reached a small bakery with great goods. "goro this is hibiki, hibiki this is goro, he owns the bakery shop and has the best one around here" she explains, "well, the others are certainly not all bad" suna has never heard of such a heavy accent before,

'and i thought the twins dialect was the worst'

"so what brings you here today?" goro asked with a deep voice, "he's kinda lost and doesn't have a spare clothes, i was wondering if we could borrow some"

"well of course! happy to lend some help for the new guy, my son has a loads of clothes to spare for a life time!" the mans voice was defeaning to say the least, "haruto can-!" as if his son had already heard him a small pile of clothes is thrown at the stairs that is built just at the side of their house

"here ya go! you can go change at the back room" goro says then another voice chimed in the conversation

"what's the occasion? wearing glamourous outfit in a place like this?" the son sneered as he stood at a narrow terrace attached to the wooden stairs. he looks down at mockingly mocking him for his appearance

"don't let him blow yer gasket" goro says reassuringly while patting his shoulder

"thanks" he deadpans but with a little more emotion than he used to display with his father.

afterwards, y/n gave him a little tour around places, he used to see this small town from his library window pane but diving inside upclose feels alot bigger than he anticipated. saying suna had fun would be an understatement, he feels something larger than just joy.

safety, vulnerability and mostly freedom. he wasn't necessarily held captive inside the castle like the backstory of every damsel in distress, the tables may have turned in this story, the prince who was trained with a sword have been the helpless damsel during the thunderous night whilst dearest y/n being his knight in just a dirty old dress. but what was he gonna do with his sword skills at the stormy evening? battle zeus?

needless to say he doesn't even have his mighty sword with him, how naive.

"when do you plan to go back?" y/n questions randomly at their peaceful stroll back to her residence, "i'm not too sure" he answers back hoping to change the subject.

"your parents are bound to notice your absence being the prince and all" she enunciated casually, suna stops in his tracks

"you.. knew?" he croaked

"from your princely outfit and the place i found you, i stick two and two together"

his mouth curved down in exasperation, his fist clench tightly, his nails almost digging his palms

"your royal highness, i request nothing of you than you might think, to be quite frank i didn't knew how to approach you first-"

"it's okay.. i'm not mad" he soothes with the softet voice he could master, the tight grip of his hands decreased and he exhales slowly to calm himself down

"i mean after today, i never assumed you were the type" and he partially knew his dishonesty was noticeable with just how he stood but he left that part out 'cause he couldn't handle the shame he felt

"are you going back though?" she fretted with a begging tone as if she doesn't want him to go

"do you want me to?" he teased

"no! i mean if you really need too"

"is it okay for me to stay at yours for a little while?"

"of course! you're welcome at my place anytime!" she immediately answered cheerfully

"it just feels nice to have some company again" she mumbles discreetly but suna heard it loud an clear.

and he did stay, longer than he should've, it's like he left his royal crown behind his bedroom and also like his parents have forgotten about him, he learned and loved many knew things such as wood cutting and though he doesn't have much experience but he's working on it

suna had insisted to work for y/n seeing as she was letting him sleep in her house unpaid. he surprisingly have very strong stamina. for most of the week, suna made sure to pay her back for her kindness and hospitality every single day regardless of her resistance

he felt butterflies in his stomach as he recollects the warmth he felt when she suggested him to sleep in the same bed as her and though at first he thought nothing much of it except the berth had little no space between them and he could feel her soft breathing beneath his skin, he possibly spent half the night admiring her face as disturbing as it sounds

oh, and the splinter he had by some means on his first try of using an axe, y/n was there for his aid although it was just a splinter he was bleeding alot. suna had enjoyable memories there and most of it was literally every interaction he has with herhe loves everything about her from her kindess to her boldness even

but of course, suna knew he would be found anytime by now

it was a nice morning whereas suna was alone in the house when suddenly the door bursted open harshly breaking it,

"your royal highness, we have finally located you, the king and queen are worried sick!" the knight explained, "you must return home immediately" he said grabbing into his wrist while suna resisted, "i dont want to!" suna keeps saying but to no avail, the guard buckled him up on the horse between two other guards

this knight was extreme loyal to his father and he follows his commands more than anyone else, suna would admit his father treated him more as a son and loved him more than him but he didn't wanted to leave just yet without seeing her for the last time knowing that he'll most likely forever be locked in the castleand despite suna having to take his fathers place sooner, the knight somehow had power over him.

"let's go back on the road, hiyah!"                                                                    the lead went up into the air before smacking onto his white horse, the animal hurriedly went west eith just one slap of the rope, suna looked back at the city behind him, many people crowded to watch the prince leave their home waving at him merrily presumbly knowing he was royalty all along

suna did wanted to see y/n for the final time however seeing her beside the audiences watching his leave was indescribable, he couldn't tell what she was feeling from the distance he was in but he certainly felt isolated again and so were she. the continuous sound of a horses hoof racing towards sounded annoying to him and he wanted nothing more but to dismount it

when he finally came home he was only greeted by his mother and a few other maid and butlers to welcome him back. of course, what did he expect from his father. suna went straight to his room without a word, his mind stuck to the question of how was she doing and how did the guards found out where he was, she couldn't have told them.. right?

that night is certainly eventful, when suna walks down the corridor to get a little fresh air only to receive a heavy news once he hears his fathers voice from the dining hall talking to his soldiers and it seems to him the king will send them for battle between another kingdom"but his majesty, the king you are aware that we'll also ambush a town with no involvement into this matter”

"they don't matter having to govern an extra land is even better, the decision has been decided the night before, you'll leave within the next minutes and go straight forward to invade the southeast!" he yells, his plan is rather reckless and is relying to brute strength. knowing his father, suna didn't say anything and hides back to his room

thunder strikes loudly ringing his ear as he tries to cautiously open the stable, he could feel the rain slowly dropping one by one by the second, grabbing his horse before he disappears away from the castle.

sad to say, the fighters on both sides have beaten him to it. even with the rainwater going down suna could still make out a bit of smoke from the town

he grips the lead tightly, it's almost unrecognizable, everything was demolished, burned down and he hopes to atleast see someone alive other than the soldiers who was ordered to fight

"y/n!" he screams piercingly and as if on cue lightning struck feets away from him, almost blinding him. instantly making a beeline to her house that was also gone and burned to ashes

suna dismounts his horse and started yelling like he'd lose his voice by tomorrow while also picking up the wooden pieces of the house

"y/n! goro! haruto!"

rather than the sound of thunderbolt like earlier he heard a gunshot that scares off his great horse away to the darkness

"wait-"

in his mind, he knew he was done for when he hears the rapid footsteps towards his direction, then it stops as the person halted catching their breaths but suna couldn't hear them stopping from the heavy rain that's almost drowning his ears. he takes a step back to turn around and face them only to see the face he loves so much

he may have did lost his voice and could only run towards her, their lips touching each other then and there and the place around them is not the most beautiful place to get your first kiss but when the two finally gets who they truly needed nothing else matters

[ramseyesscom]

Issue One Hundred and Six

Subscribe to Sincere, Positive Things already! It’s free, ya know!

"What should be in the newsletter next week?" I asked my wife Mo. "Well," she said after thinking for a moment, "It's tomato season." She's right. Welcome, one and all, to tomato season. Thought to be poisonous in England in the 16th century (despite their popularity in nearby Italy), and completely avoided by Tom Brady, tomatoes are as delicious as they are versatile. Let's look just at the little guys: your grape and cherry tomatoes. First of all, they're probably they arrive in the best packaging to be found in the produce aisle. Those lightweight plastic containers protect, but they also allow you to inspect. (The volcano shaped containers with the sticker covering the lid look cool but are actually terrible because that sticker will never successfully cover that container again). You can drop those in a salad for little flavor bombs that explode like nature's Gushers fruit snacks. You can dip them in a tub of ranch dressing for a taste overload (the good kind). Cut 'em in half and put 'em on a taco! So good! I've already written too much about tomatoes and I've only discussed one kind. I'm not going to pretend to know all the names, but I didn't even scratch the surface of the vine ones, the beefsteak ones, the oval ones, the heirloom ones, the multicolored ones, the sun-dried ones, the green ones and all the other ones I've never heard of. Two things I must address before I get to my top three: - Fruit or vegetable? I truly don't care. This doesn't matter to me. - "I don't like tomatoes." I get it. You can't like everything. We make up our minds on vegetables so early, there's really nothing I can write that's going to change your mind, so I appreciate you reading this far about a vegetable you dislike. (Even pizza, though? See... You like tomatoes.) And now, my personal top three tomato uses: 3. marinara sauce 2. salsa 1. a perfect, not-to-thick slice on a sandwich Give me your top three! If I get enough interest, I'll publish the most popular tomato usage in a future installment! If there's not, I'll read your tomato faves and tell you which one surprised me the most! Top Tomatoes!

A few weeks back we talked about AI Audio and how creepy (but kind of cool) it is. This week saw the release of a music video for "Find My Way," a song from Paul's McCartney III album, remixed by Beck. It features a deep fake of a much younger Paul McCartney that simultaneously feels real, but also completely fake. Whether you like the music of modern McCartney or not, the video is definitely worth a peek for a look at how far we've come technologically. Is it going to fool anyone into thinking that this is rare footage of 1960s Paul lip-synching to a brand new song? Nope. But we're a long way from Tom Hanks shaking hands with vintage footage of LBJ.

"Find My Way"

[unicyclehippo]

for a prompt like. jes goes to bed early and beau figures she’s just talking to the traveler, when she goes up she hears her talking to marion about beau and she’s just like oh. in my head it was sending but more content if they’re in nicodranas.,, idk u decide! idk how to sign this off so.,, may your microwave work for the foreseeable future :) okaybye!

they’ve been in town for a couple days and it’s great, it’s really great. nott is veth again and she’s all but disappeared with yeza and luc, spending all her time with them on the beach and in their rooms, hearing all the stories luc has about everything he has seen—twice. jester is likewise absorbed in spending time with her mum and so it’s just beau, caleb, fjord, yasha and cad. which is actually most of them but it feels odd, missing their loudest members. they spent the day—last of the three they set aside for a small vacation before orly is set to take them east to the volcano—at the beach, mostly, and then in a bookstore for a faintly smiling caleb, even though they all smell of seaweed and salt and they’re leaving sand behind them wherever they go. when he’s content and the books hidden in fjord’s bag of holding, they lose themselves in the warren of winding streets and find the diviest of bars to drink in until the whole world is warm and slightly blurred and they fling arms over shoulders and walk in a stumbling lockstep back to the chateau, not nearly drunk enough to forget the way back, not drunk at all. just—content.

jester meets them at the bottom of the steps, her hair in a new style that makes beau blink and then wink each eye in case that’ll help her focus.

‘you - changed your hair,’ she blurts.

caleb, whose shoulders her arm hangs around, staggers when she lurches forward a step.

jester lifts her hand to the short ends, runs it through the shorter curls. it’s been cut into a sweet bob, one that frames her heart-shaped face and—

‘is it bad?’ she asks, nose crinkling with worry.

beau blinks stupidly at her. ‘no,’ she says.

jester waits. then, ‘oh. okay.’

‘looks good, jessie,’ fjord calls. he looks suspiciously put together and beau wonders if it’s a paladin thing or if he’d been smart to let her win their drinking contest. she’s still thinking about it, and grinning because it had been a good, fun night, when he asks gently, ‘ready for tomorrow morning?’

‘oh. well, yes and no. i’m excited to go to traveller con of course but,’ she catches her bottom lip between her teeth. shrugs delicately. ‘i always miss my mama.’

there’s a round of nods.

beau stares at jester’s curls. her fingers burn to touch them, to feel if the curls are actually heavy or if it’s just the way they fall, if they’re as soft as they look.

‘we should—get to sleep,’ caleb says, and the words slur the slightest bit with alcohol and a weighted accent. ‘jester, the hairdresser must be a transmutation wizard. they have changed you,’ he says, and then laughs a quick laugh, which he quickly contains. but his eyes are happy and that has everyone laughing too.

‘that’s a terrible joke,’ jester tells him. ‘go to bed, all of you. and caleb—teleportation circle for tomorrow’s spells.’

‘ja, ja, i will remember.’ he taps the side of his long nose. ‘i remember.’

he and fjord and caduceus begin to climb the steps to their room. yasha makes excuses oddly fast to follow, and beau catches her eyes as she slides behind jester. yasha shoots her a look beau can’t decipher and the woman must realise that because she sighs, smiles, and continues on up the steps.

‘did you have fun tonight, beau?’

‘i missed you.’ jester eyes widen slightly. beau hurries to explain. ‘not that it’s not cool that you spent it with your mum, of course you should do that, we all know you miss her heaps which is - wow - really nice, actually? and she loves you so, duh. it’s just,’ beau shrugs, and she thinks maybe she’s a little more drunk than she originally thought because the slow clumsiness of it is catching up, makes her feel a little awkward in her own feet. ‘it’s different without you an’ nott. veth. i guess it’s not as fun for you ‘cause you don’t drink but there were card games you woulda liked. and it’s—we were just hanging out, y’know? ‘s’not the same without you. nicer when you’re there.’ she smiles then, and when jester just stares at her, she smiles wider, trying to push all the sincerity as she can into it. jester loves nicodranas and her mum, beau knows, and she’s not afraid that jester will stay behind, certainly not so close to traveller con, but beau thinks it’s not a bad time to remind jester that actually they all really, really adore her and she was missed.

the re-doubled smile must work because jester blinks a few times and then returns the smile.

‘beau,’ she says teasingly, ‘you’re so sweet when you’re drunk.’

‘i’m not that drunk.’

‘you’re pretty drunk,’ jester tells her with faux solemnity. ‘want me to take you to bed? i mean, to bed! like, to your bed to sleep.’

beau grins. ‘you’re blushing.’

jester scowls. ‘no.’

‘mhm.’ she steps closer. taps jester’s cheek. she’s gentle about it, pushes all her attention to it so she doesn’t drunkenly jab her hard. it has the effect she intended—soft, not painful—and one she didn’t, in that she feels with perfect clarity how soft jester’s cheek is, the warmth of her flush. she lets her finger drop. wavers a little where she stands only a few inches from jester. ‘um. i can make it,’ she tells jester. ‘you came down for cookies, right?’

jester frowns. ‘how did you—‘

‘not as drunk as i look,’ beau tells her cheerfully. ‘we definitely caught you out, you were trying to be sneaky ‘bout it. it’s after dinner and you’re better about sweets when you’re with your mum. an’ you were talking about ‘em this morning.’ jester stares up at her, shakes her head slowly. she looks confused, and really pretty, and beau is filled with sudden warmth at the idea of knowing someone as well as she knows jester. ‘have fun, drink some good milk. you would’ve hated the bar, the milk was bad.’

‘you had some?’

beau shrugs. ‘i ordered one for you, forgot you weren’t there. we all drank some.’ she pulls a face. then kisses jester’s cheek, presses her own flushed cheek to jester’s, who holds very still.

then, beau carries herself happily up the stairs and to jester’s room, collapsing boneless to the bed.

//

her head feels like it’s been filled with angry bees when she wakes. that might be the dream she’d had. her mouth tastes like she licked a dirty boot, too. disgusting.

if she holds herself very still, though, she can ignore all of that and maybe, maybe, fall back to sleep.

just as she thinks about it, beau knows it’s not gonna happen. her neck cricks and her bladder screams from the pressure and so with a groan she rolls to the side and carefully stands. her headache pounds a little more forcefully but it’s far from the worst she’s ever had. a little water and she’ll be grand.

speaking of water.

beau adjusts her pants back into place, wipes wet hands absently on her shirt as she leaves the washroom, steps out into the hall. it’s early still and the chateau is still. quiet. faint music and conversation lifts up to jester’s level from the one below and beau follows it like she’s caught.

by the time she has come down the stairs, she knows it’s marion’s room, and knows the voices are hers and jester’s. she thinks about turning away but the sun has started to lift and she knows jester hasn’t started to pack. how she had managed to scatter her things literally everywhere across the room beau can’t begin to understand. she’ll peek in, remind jester about it, head down for an early run on the beach maybe. and breakfast. the chateau does a damn good breakfast.

‘—don’t know what to do about it.’ jester, beau’s mind supplies. distressed.

‘what do you want to do about it?’ marion. decidedly not at all distressed. amused?

‘i don’t know,’ jester wails. ‘why can’t this be easy?’

‘the worthwhile things in life rarely are, little sapphire.’

beau grins. jester will hate being told that. her grin widens when she hears jester grumble a reluctant agreement; in her mind’s eye she can see her clearly, nose crinkled, grumpy face on, strewn over one of her mother’s fainting couches maybe.

‘can’t you just tell me what to do?’ jester wheedles. ‘you know everything!’

‘about sex, perhaps. about love? not as much as i would like.’ the room is quiet for a moment, and beau thinks her suddenly racing heart will give her away. love? they’re talking about love? ‘matters of the heart always seem simple from the outside. when you’re the one tangled in it, it seems impossible, doesn’t it?’

jester makes a pitiful sound of agreement.

beau nearly does too.

‘well, what do you think then? even if you’re on the outside?’

‘i think... that you could do far worse.’

‘mama.’

‘what do you want me to say, jester?’

‘the truth!’

‘the truth?’ marion asks in an arch tone, and oh beau is less familiar with her but jester is not so removed from her mother that she can’t imagine it. the cool look, the raised brows, the pursed lips as the expression coalesces into one simple question—are you sure?

‘please, mama.’

‘very well. i don’t think you would have come to me all in a flutter if you weren’t feeling something. and you obviously hold her in high regard, or you wouldn’t have spent all of the last two days talking about her.’

‘i didnt—not all,’ jester denies, weakly.

‘you spoke of her a lot, my darling,’ marion tells her gently. a moment passes, then, ‘i think you enjoy her attention. i think you care for her very much. and i think you know how she cares for you. didn’t you tell me you thought she was going to kiss you?’

‘you should have seen the way she smiled,’ jester whispers. ‘beau was—‘

the mention of her name breaks the spell beau was held by, frozen in place listening to the conversation play out. guilt mingles hot with hope and fear, churning in her gut, but she manages to step back softly, and again until she reaches the stairs. she takes the next flight quietly before all but sprinting down the rest, flying out the door.

a run. a run along the beach. she’ll forget all about this and when she comes back to breakfast, she’ll be ready. she won’t encroach on jester, she won’t upset her with what she had hoped had been subtle. she’ll be better about it.

the sand crunches beneath her boots, the tide washing it harder underfoot than the soft white dunes, and beau runs.

[ears-awake-eyes-opened]

A thin line

(Hayffie ❤️🔥. NSFW. A lot of angsty sexual content, per the prompt. I don’t see Haymitch and Effie taking their trauma histories out on one another with intention. I see them arguing often and getting off on their volatile chemistry. I see them loving each other with ferocity, tender care, playfulness, and a mix of selfishness and devotion which they both struggle to balance. I responded to the prompt with this character analysis in mind. This was exhausting to write and really stretched me.)

***

ONE

“The last word. YOU think I always have to have the last word?!”

“EVERY argument. You walk away mutttering it under your breath or saying it in your head!”

“How could you know what’s in my head, and how is that even having the last word?!”

“I just KNOW. And it just IS!”

“Why shouldn’t I have the last word when you take ALL the others?”

“I don’t take ALL the others. You’re talking right now!”

“Because you’re arguing with me about arguing. For once, would you just shut up.”

“Ha! Like THAT’S going to happen. ...Try and make me.”

Her words were a dare. He picked her up and draped her over his shoulder with his arms around her legs and a hand on her ass.

“Haymitch! This is barbaric.” She squirmed without conviction.

He flopped her onto the bed, and she landed face up alongside the pillows. In a huff, she propped up on her elbows. He rested his palm on her chest.

“WHAT do you think you’re doing?”

“Be still, sweetheart.” He caressed along her sternum until she lay back. He pulled off his shirt and unzipped his pants.

“You told me to ‘shut up,’ and now you want sex?”

He inched up her dress and brushed his fingers over her panties. For a moment everything stopped except his fingertips. “Got any objections?”

She shook her head ‘no.’ “Be careful, honey. Don’t snag the lace.”

Controlling as ever.

He considered doing that just to spite her, but had a better idea. He let go and walked to the foot of the bed.

“You’re leaving NOW!?”

He moved around the other side to where her head draped slightly over the edge. She gazed up at him with fiery uncertainty, and he dropped his pants.

“So you’re not leaving...”

This time he was the one to shake his head. Without a word, he turned her onto her stomach, unzipped her dress, then rolled her back.

“I said be careful... I’m not a rag doll!”

“Shhh.” He knelt on the floor and kissed her forehead as he peeled the bodice of her dress down to her waist. Her corset cupped below her breasts, leaving them mostly exposed.

He stood up and slid his hands down from her collarbones. “Mmm... I like this one.”

“I can tell.” With her head tilted back, his dick hovered near her mouth. “You think this is going to *shut me up*?”

“Depends.”

She took the tip between her lips, swirled her tongue around him, then let go. This was HER game, and she wanted him to know it. He stifled a groan, trying not to seem too invested in this.

“You want to go deep and come in my throat?”

Fuck, yes. “Are you gonna bite my dick off if I do?”

“Only if you’re not pleasuring me too. Don’t make me do it myself.”

“We’ll see...” He followed the stays of her corset over her stomach, and slipped a hand inside her panties.

In one fluid motion, she sucked him beyond the back of her throat.

“Oh, fuck.” He thrust once. Sure he’d been angry when they’d started this, but he didn’t want to choke her. Not like this anyway.

She reached for his hips, and encouraged him to keep going.

“Jesus, Effie...” He’d never been so deep in anybody’s mouth before.

He dipped his fingers in her and stroked with his thumb. The sound she made vibratied around him, and his pace quickened in response.

Is this alright? He might have thought to ask, but the feeling of her mouth was too much for thought.

His touch was primal, instinctual. She lifted her hips and swelled like the tide. She was already close.

He held the edge between wanting to make this last and needing release. He held it as tightly as the knife he clutched in sleep. He was so alive with her. So goddamn alive.

***

TWO

“Are you seeing her?” Effie asked about the dark haired woman whose eyes had been fixed on them in the market.

Haymitch took a bite of supper, answering slowly and without evasion. “Sometimes.”

“How often?”

“Why does it matter? You see other people, and I don’t ask about ‘em.”

“You don’t ask because you don’t want to know.”

“You’re right. I don’t wanna know.” Whenever he thought about some other guy’s hands on her body, he couldn’t even see straight.

“Well, I want to know.”

Shit. This conversation wasn’t going anywhere good. “...A few times a month maybe.”

She recognized he probably spent more time with that girl than he did with her. Living 2000 miles apart kept getting harder.

“Where do you *see* her?”

“Her place, mostly.”

Effie set down her fork, having lost her appetite. “You sleep there?”

“You know I don’t.”

“Does she sleep here?”

“Why are you asking questions when you know you’re not gonna like the answers?”

Imagining him in other women’s homes was maddening enough, but it was a knife in her chest to picture them in this place where SHE hung curtains, and swept out dust and goose feathers, and drank coffee, and ate supper, and had sex in front of the fireplace... and in his bed — their bed.

“Does she sleep here?!” She needed to hear it.

“Sometimes.”

Her cheeks flushed with rage. “Do you fall asleep with her?!”

“You KNOW I don’t!”

“I don’t want her here.” The words came out quiet, like lava seeping from a volcano before the whole mountain explodes.

“That’s not your call. I don’t get a say about what dicks come and go from YOUR place.”

“Do you even want a say?!”

He didn’t want any of those men there, but what would it mean to admit that? “Shit, honey, I don’t know.”

“How do you not know! How does it feel picturing me having sex with someone else?”

“I’m NOT gonna picture that, and I don’t wanna talk about how I FEEL!” His tone was mocking.

She pushed her chair back from the table and unhooked the top of her sweater. It was a soft thing, pale blue like the sky, made from rabbit fur and tiny pearl buttons.

“What are you doing?”

She unfastened the rest, and her sweater gaped open. There was nothing underneath except her. Her skin, her body.

“How does it feel picturing me doing this with someone else?”

She was pressing him to a place where his mind didn’t want to go. If she weren’t so intoxicating, he’d tell her to fuck off.

She moved from her chair and straddled his lap in a flowy skirt that she often wore around the house. He pushed the table forward and slid his hands up her back.

“And how does it feel picturing someone else doing this with me?”

“I HATE it,” he surrendered, resting his forehead against her neck and caressing every inch of her beneath the sweater. This is MY girl. She’s mine. ...And I can’t stop it.

Effie reached for the pins that held her hair up in a twist. When she slipped them out, her hair fell to her shoulders.

“What are you doing to me?” he pleaded.

“I’m gonna fuck you, honey. So good that it’ll make you forget about her. Because I HATE picturing her doing this with you.”

“Stop talking about her.” He threaded his fingers in Effie’s hair and drew her into a kiss. She melted into his mouth, letting the connection be for a moment whatever he needed.

She held his face and slid her thumbs to the pulse at the sides of his throat. The most terrifying aspects of intimacy are the things we can’t hide, even when we want to. His heart was thrumming.

He broke the kiss to tell her what she already knew. “You make me crazy.”

She tugged up his shirt, and he let her strip it off so he could feel her breasts against him.

She opened his pants and freed him. He reached up her skirt and slid her thong to the side. She stood on tiptoes to shift her position in his lap, then came down hard and he slipped inside her.

God... The first thrust was always the best. Reunion.

She sighed nonsensical words, growing louder as she fucked him. There was an urgency about it. He made her want things she wasn’t ready for. “Crazy...” she echoed, “I feel it.”

He gripped her ass and rocked with her. The insistence was real, bordering on desperation. “Oh, hell. I want a say. I say nobody. ...Nobody but you and me, sweetheart.”

The mountain shattered in the words.

***

THREE

“We aren’t leaving until you change that shirt.”

“I’ll wear what I damn well please.”

“The collar is frayed, and it’s missing a button.”

“A missing button? For Christ sake, it must be the apocalypse.”

“I REFUSE to be seen in public with you wearing that old thing! Take it off.”

Haymitch plopped down on the couch. “Going out was your idea anyway. If you want it off, then YOU take it off.”

She moved behind the sofa and slid her fingers along the back of his neck. Whenever she did that, his eyes closed like those plastic dolls she’d played with as a child. She enjoyed the subtle power. She traced along the frayed edge of the collar and unhooked the top few buttons. Grasping the shirt on both sides, she yanked it apart.

His eyes shot open as the cloth ripped and buttons scattered on the floor. “What the hell?!”

“Oops.” Her tone oozed sarcasm as she played over his chest like piano keys.

“I LIKED that shirt.” He seethed.

“I’ve bought you at least a dozen decent shirts. Go put on one of those.”

“Fine.” He stood up and made as if to head to the bedroom. Then he scooped her up, dropped her onto the couch, hopped over it and straddled her.

“Haymitch! That shirt was an affront to fashion. I did you a favor.” She tried to wriggle her pelvis out from under him. When the pressure started feeling good, she moved more deliberately at a slower pace.

He kept time with her movements. “I could do YOU a favor...”

“We’ll miss our reservation...” Her protest was unconvincing.

He traced the neckline of her dress. It was V shaped and dipped low between her breasts. The dress was one of her favorites. He positioned himself more directly against the soft flesh below her pubic bone. “I can be quick, honey.”

“I know...” Her breath caught in her throat. She wanted more, and unfastened his pants.

He slipped his fingers into her dress. No corset. ...Even better. He yanked the fabric, and the bodice ripped open. Her gaping mouth was a match.

“Was that quick enough?”

“Damn you! This is SATIN! I loved this dress!”

“I like it better now.” He unhooked the front clasp of her bra and folded it open.

Her heart beat up her neck, igniting fire in her cheeks. “Am I supposed to thank you for not defiling my bra too?”

Effie’s breasts were timeless things that really hadn’t aged in the years he’d been looking at them. He wanted them in his mouth, but he couldn’t do that unless he was willing to let her move.

“You started this, sweetheart. You want me to finish it?” He brushed his thumbs across her nipples.

She was angry about the dress, but she had indeed been the one to initiate the clothing massacre. “...I suppose it would be a shame to waste a ruined dress...”

“I’m gonna get up. Don’t move. Since I killed your dress, I don’t trust you not to rip something else off me.”

She laughed. “Afraid I might wax hair off places you want to keep it?”

“Wax anything off my body, and ALL your dresses will be dead.”

“Truce?” She unzipped his pants.

When he got off of her, she drew her dress up to her waist and slipped off her panties.

“What? Don’t trust me not to rip those too?” He grinned.

“Will you shut up and fuck me?”

“Only because you asked so *nice*.” He kicked off his pants and eased onto her, into her.

“Make me come fast, and we might still make that reservation.”

With the reservation in mind, he planned to do this as slowly as possible.

***

FOUR

She found him after midnight in a bar across town. She stood on the sidewalk, peering through the window. The place was nearly deserted. Haymitch was a shadow in dim lighting at a booth in back. She’d recognize him anywhere, so why did he keep walking away and hiding within himself? Finding him each time was a cocktail of relief and infuriation injected in her veins. He made her high.

She opened the door and marched straight back, ignoring the bartender who told her he’d be closing in an hour.

“Nine hours, Haymitch. Nine!!” They’d fought that afternoon, and he stormed out. Since he left his bag in the apartment, she knew he hadn’t taken the train home, but she didn’t know where he’d gone.

“I can tell time, sweetheart.” He was sitting with the companionship of an empty liquor bottle, a glass, a bowl of peanuts, and their shells scattered across the table.

“I searched four other bars before this one!” She was frazzled. In a heavy coat, a long skirt and boots, she hadn’t taken the time to dress fancy before heading out.

“Nobody asked you to come looking.“ As angry as he’d been earlier, he’d mellowed with drinks and time. It scared him to think about her walking alone through the Capitol streets at night. That fear agitated him again.

“You have no idea how uncomfortable it is to walk for hours in heels!”

“Then buy some regular shoes. You shouldn’t be out here this late alone anyway.”

“Then don’t leave me alone without a word. And don’t make me wonder if you’re dead somewhere! Don’t do that to me! After all this time, are you really that blind about what you mean to me?”

He didn’t know what to say. He scooted over to make room for her to sit beside him. She stood obstinately for another minute, but her aching feet won out over her frustration.

“I’ll sit with you, but I’m too irate to look at you right now!” She sat with perfect posture, as close to the edge of the booth as possible.

“You’re free to leave...”

“I’m not leaving!”

“Then you’re free to close your eyes.”

“Fine!” She closed her eyes and took a long breath.

Her hair was windblown and her makeup worn out ...and she was so beautiful. She could be with anybody. Why the hell did she chase after him each time he was a jackass?

He moved closer to her. She felt the warmth of his thigh against hers and his breath above her ear. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“I’m not ready for an apology.”

Fine. “Then what do you want from me?”

She touched his leg. “I want you to stay. I want you to let me be angry until I’m not.” She turned her head slightly, and his mouth brushed her temple, accidentally, and neither of them moved.

Then he moved — just his mouth — kissing her temple, her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks... and bracing for her to smack him.

The hit didn’t come. She slid her hand up the inside of his thigh and stroked his crotch with the nail of her pinky.

“Are you gonna maul my dick?” His lips were on her ear now.

“Not maul.” She slipped off her coat and laid it across his lap... and hers too.

“Is this an invitation?”

“Since when do you wait for an invitation to finger me in the back of a bar?”

“You’re pissed, Effie. How should I know?”

“Because I’m telling you. ...Touch me.” Her hand was back on his groin, using all her nails now to stir him.

If he was gonna get a hand job here after being a jerk to her all day, then he needed to reevaluate his understanding of the world. Her touch felt incredible, and he regretted the wasted hours. “I wanna kiss you.”

“I’m not ready to kiss you. And I don’t want to be kicked out of here for being overtly indecent. ...Just touch me, like you’re telling a secret.”

He lifted her skirt, drew a line along her inner thigh, and caressed her through her panties. “You’re wet, honey.”

“Since the moment I found you.”

Did she mean tonight? Or years ago. He didn’t ask.

She opened his pants and took his dick in her hand. She stroked the tip to slicken her palm. Wrapping her hand around him, she tugged and stroked and tugged again. Relentless.

“Fuck... You’re really doing this.” He slipped a finger inside her and drew moisture up her folds. He rubbed her clit from the inside and out, slowly at first, then faster as intensity surged inside him.

“Ohh...” she started.

“You gotta be quiet, honey. Give me the sounds ...like you’re telling a secret.”

She spilled them into his mouth as she kissed him. Decent or not, she was ready to offer this much forgiveness.

She tasted like coffee and cinnamon gum — and her. He forgot about their argument from the afternoon. He forgot about the bartender and where they were. Understanding the world in that moment was simple. It was her — his girl, his gorgeous girl.

She opened her eyes. His were already on her. It was like pouring whiskey on fire.

“Why is it like this between us?” she panted.

“Now?”

“Always.”

***

FIVE

Some days she questioned moving to 12. Her desire to share a life with Haymitch had become more compelling than the reasons not to. She’d known what she was getting into, but she hadn’t anticipated everything she’d feel once she was existing in that reality.

Some days he wondered why he’d asked her to move in with him. The choice to live together had been a long time coming. He was relieved to stop feigning indifference about having a life with her. He’d wanted it without question. But in the thick of it, he was questioning.

He startled awake at 6am by dishes clanging in the sink, the faucet spraying, and cupboards opening. Rolling onto his side, he covered his head with her pillow, but there was no falling back to sleep, especially without her next to him.

He dragged himself out of bed and threw on his bathrobe. “Damn it, Effie, the sky is BLACK!” he hollered.

“Am I supposed to do something about that?” she yelled back.

“SLEEPING is what *normal* people do when the sky is black.” He followed the fragrance of coffee down the staircase.

“You’re saying I’m ABNORMAL?! Tell that to your birds who have been honking at each other for an hour!”

“Maybe they’re trying to hear each other over the racket in the kitchen!”

Effie faced him with her hands on her hips. The sleeves of his sweater were rolled up to her elbows. Her nightgown peeked out underneath, and her legs were bare from mid thigh to her slippers. Touching her suddenly seemed more appealing than picking a fight, but he’d already started the latter.

“If YOU washed dishes when you used them, then they wouldn’t pile up on the counter! And if you oiled the hinges on these doors, they wouldn’t creak as if this place is haunted!” She opened and closed one several times as an annoying demonstration.

“You’re wearing my sweater. Why do you borrow my clothes when yours fill the entire closet?! You’ve got a hundred pairs of shoes that you never wear!”

She pulled off the sweater and threw it in his face. “I can’t even walk to the street without stepping through mud and goose shit! I refuse to ruin those shoes. If you were willing to hire a landscaper, this wouldn’t be an issue.”

“Never needed a landscaper before. It’s a waste of money.” He took a step toward her. Looking at her in that nightgown took some of the punch out of arguing. He wanted other things, like feeling her breasts through silk.

“The dirt you track into this house is ridiculous! I need to vacuum twice each day. Imagine the savings on the electric bill if you’d fix the yard, or even just leave your shoes at the door when you come inside.” She took a step toward him. She was shivering now without his sweater, and she knew how warm she’d be if she opened that bathrobe and held him.

“I ain’t taking off my shoes in my own house! And I can’t relax around here with you cleaning all the time!”

“Your OWN house? What happened to this being OUR house? And if you’d remember to close the door, there would be less to clean. There was a LIZARD on the floor this morning! It scurried somewhere when I turned on the lights. Now it’s waiting for me in a closet or something. I DON’T live with reptiles!”

“Clearly it’s OUR house because your hair keeps clogging the bathroom sink. I’m TIRED of having to snake the drain.” He immediately regretted the comment because she slipped a band from her wrist and tied her hair up. He loved her hair. What the fuck was he doing complaining about it?

“You’re TIRED because you stay up half the night drinking...” Taking the fight to this place was a risk. His drinking was what unsettled her most. She hadn’t seen him drink this much in years. Not since the Games.

“I’m using a goddamn COASTER. What more do you want from me?! I’m not gonna stop drinking. That’s NOT part of the deal, sweetheart.”

“I’m not asking you to. I just want to understand...” She took another step. She could reach out and touch him, but she held back. “...Do you even want me here?”

He gathered a bit of her nightgown between his thumb and fingers. He held onto that much of her. “Do you even want to be here?”

She leaned into his touch. It raised goosebumps on her arms. “This is me, honey... I wake up early. I need things to be clean and orderly. I like my clothes from my old life. I like the shoes I can’t wear here on the gravel streets. I keep busy because I don’t know who I’ll be here if I stop...” She asked him again, “Do you want me here?”

He slipped the band from her hair. “I’ve been on my own a long time. I’m used to things being the ways they’ve been for longer than I care to think about. I’m trying. I sleep late. I wash dishes when I run out of clean ones. I don’t mind dirt on the floor or rings on the coffee table. I’m a drunk. You know all this shit.” He asked her again, “Do you want to be here?”

She untied the belt of his robe. Inside he was naked and aroused, and she wanted to be with him, just as he was. She closed the distance between them and slipped inside with him, silk against skin.

She slid her tongue along the seam of his lips, and he opened, taking her in like a starving person. He lifted her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. She wasn’t wearing panties, and he was tempted to fuck her right there.

“Let’s go to bed,” she murmured into his mouth.

“Are you gonna make me carry you up the damn staircase when we could do this right here?”

“I want you in our bed.”

That’s all he needed to hear. He was already climbing the stairs. “...Fortunately you’re not a cow.”

“Fortunately you’re not a lizard, otherwise I’d have to squash you.”

He fell back on the bed with her on top of him. He groaned in jest and in the relief of simply having her.

They shifted toward the pillows. He sat up with her in his lap and kissed her as he shook the robe off. She lifted the hem of her nightgown.

“Leave it. I wanna take it off you when you’re riding me.”

She slid along the length of him three times. “Do you want to come fast or slow?”

“Sweetheart, I don’t think we’re gonna have a choice.”

She laughed as she drew him inside her.

“God... I want you here. I don’t want to screw this up.”

“I want to be here, honey. I’m not going anywhere.”

***

SIX

On a blanket in a meadow, he’d made love to his girl — his first one — the day before the Reaping. They were 16. He told her he loved her, in case it was his only chance. But what did he know then of love? Only the way it filled him, not yet what a thief it would be. His girl was killed because he’d loved her. His family too, and he hadn’t said the words since then.

Haymitch spent a quarter of a century evading love entirely — filling the void with liquor, fucking sometimes but dodging intimacy. He had enough blood on his hands for a hundred lifetimes. He’d wanted nothing to do with the thief — until love filled him again in a way that defied evasion.

So what could he say now to his girl — this one who met him in the void in the middle of his life and refused to leave? The soulful part of him that he’d thought dead was feeling again. What could he say to his stubborn girl on a blanket in a meadow as they were creating again and again the thing that fills and steals.

‘I love you’? ...No way. Calling it by its name would give it too much power. He wasn’t ready.

He was deep inside her with his hands in her hair. Intensity welled up like a wave about to crest. He wanted the words. Ready or not, he NEEDED them.

“Wait,” she demanded, pushing his hips away, single handedly holding back the tide, “I want to be on top.”

“Effie, I’m right at the edge. Are you trying to kill me?”

“The grass is poking my back.”

“We’re on a goddamn blanket!”

“I have sensitive skin!”

He rolled over, swapping places with her, and the words came, “I... hate you, you know. ...Your skin...” He traced her spine. “...Your neck...” He sucked her throat hard enough to leave a mark. “...Your breasts...” He caressed the curves along her sides. “...These eyes that keep seeing me... I hate you so damn much.”

His hair was damp with sweat. She brushed it away from from his eyes, overcome with emotion. “I hate you too, honey. I’ve hated you for so long... I can hardly remember who I was before you.”

Her breasts grazed his chest in a rush of sensation. He held her, warm from the sun as they swayed and their bodies thrust together, making unfathomable beauty. She kissed him until she shuddered.

“Oh, God... I’m right there... Right there... I’m coming now... Ohhh...” She cried out long and sweet enough for mockingjays to start singing.

The pulsing of her body set him off. “Ahh, holy shit...” The wave swelled and crested and crashed. “Fuck, honey... It’s so good... So good.”

They filled each other. Like laughter and tears, feeling everything and coming undone. There was no stopping it.

[leoswritingcorner]

an oracle in olympus - pt 6 1/2

first i need to thank @headcanonsfromanelfblossom who beta’d the HECK out of this. this chapter was going to take a nosedive before she stepped in and gave me the idea to split it into two parts! name twin, you’re the mandalorian to my baby yoda. <3 <3 <3 beach episode will be coming up next! 

Sicily, Italy

It’s another night of feasting and celebrating a bountiful harvest. Eric has nearly forgotten his troubles as his cup is filled with fresh mead and a plate of delicious food is set before him. Savory meat drenched in sauce, potatoes roasted to a perfect crisp and seasoned with the freshest spices that he himself had grown and gathered earlier. He grins in satisfaction and brings the cup to his lips, the sweet liquid just barely grazing them when the air rocks with a terrible tremble and the sound of deep groaning.

In the distance the scorching mountain of Etna glows menacingly against the starlit sky. Eric rolls his eyes at the dramatic work of Hephaestus, who’s always trying to show him up. He raises his cup once more for another sip, but on the table his phone lights up with a new message and all at once, his troubles return.

I’m here. Meet me. Now.

Eric coughs into his drink, sputtering as the liquid flies out in different directions, staining his clothing. A few nymphs puzzledly glance his way and he turns their attention away with a scowl.

“Eat,” he commands offhandedly, waving at the food as he stands from the table. At the other end of the grand table, Demeter watches her son curiously. Her hands begin to tremble, and she folds them tightly on her lap. 

“Would he really leave again so soon?” She asks them worriedly, her eyes watching her son.“Persie-Poo?” She calls gently. He glances at her only for a second before he looks to Etna. Even Demeter’s watchful eyes miss the dark figure he watches slip away into a crevice of the mountain. 

“I’ll be right back,” Eric mutters. “I just need to take a walk,” he adds, giving her a fake smile, one he knew that would ease her over and allow him to do whatever he wanted. He doesn’t wait for her approval and heads off. Each step he takes towards Etna fills his nerves with apprehension. How did he find him so quickly? Eric still didn’t have his story straight, or his next step worked out. He stops walking and turns his head back to his mother’s village. He takes a step back. He can run. Yeah, yeah! He can run and go- where the hell could he even go? Swearing under his breath, and against his better judgment, he continues on towards the volcano. His chest begins to tighten, and sweat begins to cake his skin when Etna’s shadow falls over him. Damn it all. He thinks he has a solid lie when he finally reaches the crevice, but when he sees red eyes, harder and deeper than the magma that flowed just behind the wall of stone, glaring at him, Eric feels his throat go dry.

“She’s still alive.” The voice is so rough, it nearly shakes the volcano. “You really screwed everything up now.”

Eric shakes his head, waving his hands as if to ward off the blame that was being flung at him. “It wasn’t me! Jerkcules and those two bone-headed Olympians showed up,” he explains quickly, his voice swelling with fear, “It’s probably not even her, you know-”

“Shut up!” The second man barks. Etna shudders around them. The cavern is dank and rich with the putrid smell of sulfur, while jagged bits of stalactite crack and tumble down. Eric flinches and breathes in sharply when a rough grip comes around his neck. “Don’t give me your damn excuses. It’s been twenty five years since…” He trails off with a feral snarl and shoves Eric away. The vegetation god tumbles back with a pained yelp. The hulking figure paces before turning on Eric again. “It is her. She won’t ruin this for me, not again. Now I have to fix up your mess,” he says furiously, leaning down. Eric swears he could feel the heat of the lava on his breath, as he spoke more lowly. “Go enjoy your last days of summer, Persephone. Be ready, as there won’t be any more waiting.” His warning is dark, and Eric knows he means it. Etna thunders once more, and Eric finds himself alone in the crevice. 

He slams a thick fist to the wall and swears loudly, his voice echoing around the cavern. He hated this deal, he hated him, and how weak all of this made him. But if he was going to live, if Cherry was going to be spared...he’d deal. He’d get his revenge in the end. Right now, he just had to play along.

*

Lucy’s head pokes through the museum's break room door and spies Lucky slumped on the couch, her uniform wrinkled and messy. The wino goddess winces at the sight. “Hey, Charms,” she greets gently, walking over. The maybe-oracle looks up quickly, and nods in a silent greeting. “So, I hear it’s been a busy week so far,” Lucy says, trying to converse, settling by her. 

“Cherry was right,” Lucky says with dry amusement, dropping her head back with a tired groan. “Everyone in Olympus, and their mother, wants to know if I’m really Tyche, or not.” 

Minor gods, spirits, and all creatures between nymphs and giants had come to Lucky to make her acquaintance. Or kill her. Whatever they felt like at that moment. Fortunately, any attempts to kill her all backfired in ironic ways. Today hadn’t been any different.

Koalemos made his appearance and let his influence spread through practically everyone in the museum, mainly a group of teenagers who decided the best way to make a viral video was to climb the mammoth exhibits and throw priceless artifacts around. Lucky surprised herself with the strength she had to drop kick the stupid spirit out. But the damage had been done - she didn’t even want to think of all the meetings and paperwork that was about to come her way.

“At least it’s your birthday this weekend,” Lucy points out, hoping to change the mood. “Didn’t you have something planned?”

“I did, I thought about spendin’ the weekend in Aspen,” Lucky scoffs with a frown,. “But everyone I invited either declined or ignored me,” She slumps against Lucy. “My twenty-fifth birthday is shot.”

It was Lucy’s turn to frown. “Those are your mortal friends,” she says, shaking her head. “You’re gonna see how we party on Olympus. Much better than As...oh,” Her brown eyes light up, and Lucky catches a flash of neon colors swirling in them. An idea had struck. “Oh my Gaia, I got it,” Lucy snaps her fingers, a wide grin crossing her lips. 

“What?” Lucky asks puzzled, tilting her head. Lucy doesn’t answer her right away and instead, pulls out her phone, her long fingers quickly writing out a text. “Luce, what is goin’ through your head?”

“Shh! Just trust me,” Lucy finally replies with a carefree smile. “Lucky, get ready- you’re going on vacation for your birthday.” 

*

When Jamie got word that Lucy had spontaneously planned a surprise getaway for Lucky’s birthday, the love goddess insisted she handle the guest list and get some quick shopping in. That’s how Lucky found herself in Amphitrite’s Beach Shop, one of the thousands of department stores to be found in The Mall of Olympus. 

“I like this one,” Jamie says, holding up a bikini set up to Lucky. Skimpy and shiny, Lucky knew it would not do in covering very much. She shakes her head and gives Jamie a ‘really now?’ look. Jamie pouts her pink painted lips and puts the bikini down. “That’s, like, the fourth one. You haven’t really, like, even tried any on,” she points out. “And we’re leaving, like, in a few hours!”

“Well where are we goin’?” Lucky asks, toying with the sheer fabric of a sarong, her eyes peeking over to the tall blonde. It’d been a long couple of hours of questioning and probing, and she almost had Jamie worn down to revealing the surprise.

Jamie perks up and picks up the sarong. “Cute! We’ll, like, go off this,” she says, quickly nodding. She begins to walk down the aisle but stops short and turns to Lucky. “Nice, like, try Lucky I’m not spilling the beans,” she says with the finality of a goddess and tugs Lucky along. “Now, try on this bikini, you have, like, adorable curves and you gotta show em off!” Jamie insists, pressing a bikini set into her arms. 

When Lucky walks off to the fitting room grumbling under her breath, Jamie sighs and leans against the wall. “Gawds that was, like, close,” she sighs, dramatically pressing a hand to her head. Her phone chimes and Jamie smiles brightly when she sees the name A❤️💖 💝💘💗💞💕💓😍 pop up in a text message and their reply.

‘...fine I’ll go. Only for you.’

Jamie squeals. Now this trip would be a blast.

*

“Everyone is going to, like, meet up at my place,” Jamie explains between sips of her smoothie as she and Lucky wander down the sidewalk through town back towards her house. “We’re gonna leave from there,” she continues happily. 

“To head off to…” Lucky prompts sneakily. She bites on the straw of her smoothie and waits for Jamie’s slip up. But she doesn’t respond. Instead, Lucky hears a soft gasp come from her instead. “Jamie?” She asks worriedly, looking up to her friend. Jamie’s eyes stay across the street, and Lucky follows her gaze.

A tall young man with messy blonde hair laughs along with a child who appears to be his daughter. A small girl, barely older than five years old, her own hair a mix of blonde and a shade of red. Lucky feels Jamie’s body tremble, and it’s then that she notices the gathering tears in her eyes. Jamie fingers twitch slightly, as if wishing to reach out to them.

The man’s eyes slide over to meet them. There’s a brief moment where he looks taken aback before a hard glare narrows his eyes. A stunned gasp leaves Lucky when in a flash, wings appear on his back. With his daughter in his arms, he gives Jamie one last long look before he’s gone in a flurry of white feathers.

Jamie swallows hard and closes her eyes, while tears stained with mascara glide down her cheeks. “C’mon,” she says, her voice too soft, too quiet. 

Lucky shakes her head in disbelief. “Jamie, was...was that, um-”

Jamie doesn’t look at her, being careful to wipe her tears away. “Eros,” she confirms sadly. “It’s a, like, a really long story,” she says, a distressed expression settling over her. She takes a shaky sip of her smoothie and cringes. She tosses it away quickly into a trashcan. “Ugh, like, sorry,” Jamie apologizes, shaking her head with a sigh. 

“Ya don’t have to apologize for anythin’,” Lucky replies gently, giving her a reassuring smile. “Ya don’t have to explain either if ya don’t wanna,” She adds. 

Jamie nods, as they finally reach her house, pausing at the sight of another young man stepping outside. He was just as tall, his hair a mop of red curls and his eyes widened slightly at the sight of Jamie and Lucky. “Oh,” he says “Sorry, just swung by for the rest of my things,”  he speaks mainly to Jamie, with hands full of bags of tools and other trinkets. Lucky tilts her head. Was this Hephestus? Not the image she had in mind. But then again, was anyone in Olympus really what she had imagined?

“It’s, like, okay Kyle,” Jamie says with a small shrug. “Did you get what you needed?”

“Not all of it,” Kyle says. “But I’ll come by later on for the rest,” He nods to the door. “I’ll see you around,” He finishes, walking past them. Lucky watches as the god of forges leaves, then turns back to Jamie with an amused but questioning gaze. 

Jamie lets out a good natured huff. “It’s, like, a long story,” she explains, waving a hand. “To make it, like, short we’re not really married anymore. It’s, like, an act for Zeus. He thinks he’s, like, the best matchmaker or whatever,” She rolls her eyes a bit but smiles, walking into her house. “Enough though, everyone is on their way and we need to pack!”

Lucky doesn’t get a chance to ask another question before Jamie pulls her to the room. Through the whole afternoon, Jamie didn’t crack once like Lucky had hoped. It looked like it really would be a surprise.

*

Lucy is the first to arrive. Her bags obviously packed hastily and shoved into the back of her Volkswagen, as she adds in Lucky’s and Jamie’s. A pair of oversized sunglasses cover Lucy’s eyes, and a two sizes too big shirt that said ‘It’s Five O’Clock Somewhere’ with a pair of cocktail glasses below hung on her slender body.

“Operation Oracle Birthday Surprise Bash is GO!” Lucy declares loudly, shutting the trunk doors. 

Jamie cheers, bouncing excitedly, clapping her hands. The skirt of her pink sundress waving with each motion she makes.“And I didn’t, like, ruin the surprise!”

“Proud of you, babe” Lucy nods, finger gunning towards the blonde. “Now we just need everyone else to show up so we can head out,” 

Lucky tugs on the hem of the shorts of her sunflower print romper, pulling down her own sunglasses over her eyes. The same ones Lucas had lent her from before. “So who is all comin’?” She asks, looking to the two goddesses.

“Uh, Lucas, Isaac, Rylee,” Lucy lists off, she turns to Jamie. “Bee?” She asks her. Jamie perks up, nodding. “Bee, maybe Craig, and Clyde,” Lucy wraps up. Lucky pauses at Clyde’s name and feels her face warm, even with the sun hidden in the slightly overcast sky.

A loud and rhythmic beeeeeeeeep beep beep beeeeeeeeeeeep of a car horn echoes in the air and Lucas’s yellow Camaro screeches to a halt before them. The window rolls down to reveal Lucas’s grinning face, and another young man with dark hair, only instead of sunglasses, he wore a thick pair of eyeglasses, and did not copy Lucas’s happy expression. 

“Bout time,” Lucy says, leaning against the Camaro.  She waves Lucky over, and motions quickly to the second passenger in the car. “Charms, come meet Isaac, otherwise known as Artemis.” 

Lucky blinks and leans down a bit, peering to Isaac. He nods his head to her in a quiet greeting. He was someone Lucky could picture on the cover of a prestigious science magazine, not the goddess, uh, god of the hunt.

“Don’t mind him,” Lucas says, rolling his shoulders, leaning back against the seat. “He’s pissy I dragged him into this, but he needs to get out once in a while,” He finishes more pointedly, his eyes on his twin. 

“Lucas, the more you speak, the more stupidity plagues us,” Isaac retorts shortly, his face is easy and his eyes barely narrow into a glare anyone would’ve expected. Lucas instead is the one to scowl and glare.

“They’re a riot,” Lucy chuckles, jabbing a thumb at them. Glancing over, Lucy’s eyes light up at the sight of two figures walking over. “Craig, Clyde!” She calls, waving to them. Lucky turns her head, and feels her heart jump into a flutter at the sight of Clyde. Dressed as casually as everyone else, an oversized gym bag slung over his shoulder. The few buttons of his shirt left undone, showing off his strong chest and-

Lucky squeaks when Lucy drags her over. “Charms, this is Craig. You might know him better as Morpheus,” she introduces. Lucky looks to the dark haired young man next to Clyde, who gives her a passive glance over, his periwinkle colored eyes narrow slightly. He was tall, and appeared to be fit, which was surprising for the deity of sleep.

“This is Tyche?” Craig asks no one in particular. “I remember her being taller.” He shrugs. 

Clyde shakes his head. “Dude, you can’t even remember what you ate for breakfast,” He counters. Craig silently lifts his hand and holds his middle finger into clear view in front of Clyde’s face.

“Settle down,” Lucy drawls, rolling her eyes. “We’re still missing two people,” She points out, looking around. “Jamie, where’s-”

A loud rumble shakes the air, and the ground. With a blinding flash of light, the tall figure of a woman stands before them. She stood at the height Jamie and Lucy stood at in their half godly forms. Next to her, a more human sized figure stood by her boredly. But Lucky couldn’t tear her eyes away from the woman clad in silver armor, a red cape billowing around her, a long spear gripped tightly in her hand. A sharp looking helmet rests atop her head. From the shadow of her helmet, golden eyes stare down at them with an intimidating gaze.

“Bee!” Jamie calls excitedly. “Don’t, like, scare Lucky. C’mon we, like, gotta go!” She says, tapping her wrist. 

“Hmf.” The woman’s voice rumbles. There’s another flash of light, and ‘Bee’ was normal sized, perhaps only an inch or two taller than Lucky. Gone was her armor, replaced now by everyday looking clothes; jean shorts, and dark t-shirt with boots. Her blonde hair is cut short and her spear now appeared to be a cane, with a point at the bottom, and still deadly-looking. Jamie flounces over, wrapping her arms around her pressing a long kiss to her cheek. The shorter woman finally smiles.

“That’s Bee, also known as Athena,” Lucy leans down slightly, whispering by Lucky’s ear. “The sleepy looking doll with her is Rylee, or Hypnos as mortals like to call her.” She stands straight, grinning at the stunned look that covers Lucky’s face as she takes in the two new goddesses.  

“Athena…” Lucky starts in a soft mumble, and her mental gears go into work. “Jamie, is always textin’ someone named A on her phone,” She tilts her head when Jamie nuzzles her nose lovingly to Bee’s and finally the realization bell dings loudly.  “OH.” Lucky gasps, nodding. “Wait-”

“Long story,” Lucy cuts off, waving a hand. “Jamie will explain sooner or later.” She says, bumping her hip to Lucky towards the Volkswagen. “Everyone pick your ride, let's get going!” She calls out. 

“Jamie sure has a lotta explainin’ t’do…” Lucky sighs. “So um, hey y’all where are we goin’?” She asks hopefully, climbing into the Volkswagen. 

“Nice try,” Lucy and Jamie chime together.

[eene-fangirl]

Out (An EddEddy Fanfiction)

“What if I don’t want to get out?” Eddy proudly stood his ground against the immense football player.

Turning his nose up, the guy tried to resemble some kind of fierce animal, though he was only making a humorous face like he was trying to hold back diarrhea. 

“Then you’re going to end up with a pile of teeth under your pillow for the tooth fairy,” he threatened, shaking his fist near Eddy’s face. 

Eddy turned up his brow as if to say, ‘Really?’ Edd was watching the scene from a safe sideline, his hands folded, hoping that everything wouldn’t get hectic. The black and blue marks still covered Edd’s cheek.

“You’re really usin’ a threat with a mystical creature that doesn’t exist?”

The young man’s nostrils flared, letting Eddy see the inside of his nose. Wasn’t that a pretty sight. “You tryin’ to be smart?”

“Are you?” Eddy retorted. “Guess you need to buy in those A’s to stay on the football team!”

His eyes panicked. Yeah, caught you! “You don’t have a clue to what you’re talkin’ about!”

“Do I?”

“Is that all you have? Short comebacks?”

“Is all you have is a set of teeth with fillings to get the ladies to pay attention to you?”

Edd, and even some of his football player friends, laughed. With one threatening look, all his friends stopped laughing. It was a rather humorous scene.

“So, what’s it to yah?”

“You ever punch Double Dee again and you’re really going to be sorry!” Eddy pointed right into his face.

“Who the heck are you talkin’ about?!”

“See the guy with the bruise? He’s got enough on his shoulders!”

The young man sneered. “What shoulders?”

Just like that, the jock was on the ground, holding his jaw in pain. The entire school ground immediately stopped what they were doing, aghast. Even Edd’s face pale. Ed looked as if he were trying to keep his celebration to himself.

“Did you just punch me?!” The guy hollered, his voice cracking.

“That’s why you are on the ground!”

“I-I can’t believe you just punched me!”

“Believe it! ‘Cause if you ever hurt one of my friends then you’re going to end up with all your teeth in a plastic bag for the destinist to repair!” Eddy screamed, his entire face flaring like a volcano as spit flew off his mouth.

The football player nodded, recoiling.

“Good shot, Eddy!” Ed congratulated his friend.

“Eddy, what were you thinking?! Do you realize that you could get a detention, or worse, suspended for your actions?” Edd exploded. 

“Hey, do you remember what he did to you? He deserved it! I don’t care what happens! ‘Sides, I gotta protect you,” Eddy said putting a hand around Edd’s waist and pulling them closer. Edd smiled, liking the affection, even wrapping his arms around Eddy’s neck. “Can’t forget about you. You’d do the same for me, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course I would, Eddy,” Edd nuzzled against his nose like a bunny. “Minus the physical assault.”

“And what would you do? Talk ‘em down with every big word and knew until they pass out from boredom?”

Edd smiled, shaking his head slightly, but staring at Eddy in pure adoration. “Precisely.”