#and did I remember to pack more socks? No I am

[mossywizard]

Cinderella but it’s a gay guy who lost one of his socks

[celiastjamesoscar]

Sweat and Serendipity

Pairings: Sam Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: While working out at your local gym, you run into someone you haven’t seen before.

Warnings: R and Sam both being horn dogs

Word Count: 4.9K

AN: this was from a request a couple days ago and I hope you enjoy it! It’s a little bit shorter than my other work but I didn’t want to stray too far from the request

The upbeat melody of ‘Funky Town’ rang throughout the pitch-black room, causing Y/N to stir in her sleep. The woman groaned as she rolled over and fumbled around the end table by her bed before finally grabbing her phone. She shut off her alarm and then checked the time, 4:30 am. She let out another groan as she forced herself up in bed.

She stared blankly at the wall with a zombie-like expression on her face. She needed to go to the gym this morning, fearing she might break her cycle of going at the ass-crack of dawn. And she also knew that if she didn’t go just this one time, she would never go back again this early.

After a few minutes of blank staring, she swung her legs over to the side and pushed herself off the bed. Her bare feet met with the cold wooden floor, sending shivers up her spine. She stumbled into her bathroom and flicked on the lights, instantly shutting her eyes as she covered them while mumbling a curse word.

Once her eyes had adjusted to the blinding lights, she moved her hands and slowly opened her eyes. She looked just as she felt: a soldier who was returning half her weight, or much like a zombie who had been stuck in a mall listening to ‘Dance Monkey’ on repeat since the start of the apocalypse.

When she saw the bags under her eyes, the memories from last night flooded her mind.

She was staying at her friend Anika’s house, and they were celebrating the release of Speak Now (Taylor’s Version). The worst part about the night was that she was so wasted she couldn’t remember any songs from the album. Hell, she doesn’t even know how she got home. The few things she could recall were faint memories of Anika violently sobbing during ‘Last Kiss,’ and she also vaguely remembered herself talking about Rhea Ripley and wanting to get pinned by her.

Shaking off the bad memories, Y/N put in her contacts and brushed her teeth. When she finished up in the bathroom, she turned off the lights and went back into her room. She opened up a dresser drawer and grabbed a pair of socks and a sports bra, along with some shorts. She sat on her bed and put her socks on, then stood up and quickly changed into her shorts. She took off her shirt and put on her bra, and then put the shirt back on. She raised her left and smelled herself, “smells fine,” she mumbled as she packed her gym bag; it was just a spare change of clothes and some shampoo and condition. She hated showering at the gym, but she also hated driving home sweaty. She swung her bag over her shoulder and grabbed her phone and earbuds, and walked toward her bedroom door. She did one final sweep to make sure she didn’t forget anything before she left the room and shut her door.

Y/N made her way into the kitchen and grabbed her jug of water that she left on the island. She filled it with some ice and then filled it up with water. Once it was full, Y/N put the lid back on and grabbed a protein shake from the fridge. She made her way to the door with her water jug and her ‘breakfast’ drink in hand as she held her car keys and went out the door. Y/N locked the door and walked down the stairs into the lobby, and left the apartment building. She walked across the street to the parking garage, found her car, got in, and started it.

Y/N sat in her car for a few minutes, debating if she really wanted to go to the gym today, and decided that if she did go today, that would mean she could eat more cake at her cousin’s birthday party that was later today. Y/N smiled to herself at that thought, backing her car up and driving towards the gym, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel with excitement. She opened her protein shake and drank it throughout the drive as The Killers filled the silence. The sky was still dark with dusk hours, but Y/N appreciated the beauty of the early morning. The Big Apple was always hectic, but the morning hours always seemed peaceful.

As she pulled into the gym’s parking lot, she noticed a single car, and it immediately caught her attention. At most, there were three people at the gym this early; herself, a shy dude in his early twenties but shredded, and a decently attractive soccer mom. But this car didn’t belong to either of them, so that meant someone new was here, and it sparked her interest.

Frattini’s was a small gym and not a popular one at all, so the people that worked out there were either locals or people who hated crowded gyms. Y/N was the latter; she hated working out with many people around, and she also had a personal vendetta against Planet Fitness, but not that that mattered. The gym was an old one and had been around long before Y/N was born, but she loved it nonetheless. The building was old, and the metal roof sometimes leaked when it rained. The machines were old, and the padding was worn down on almost all of them, and sometimes the treadmills didn’t work, but Y/N would rather die a death by a thousand cuts than ever step inside a Planet Fitness or any other gym for that matter. This place was like Y/N’s second wife, falling short of Cate Blanchett, and she would never leave her for a younger, more modern gym, no way.

She finished off her shake, grabbed her bag along with her phone, water jug, and earbuds, stepped out of her car, and walked towards the doors. She used her green key fob to unlock the door and walked inside. She could hear the faint sound of Guns N Roses playing over the speakers as she walked up to the front desk and scanned her key fob again. Y/N didn’t know why she had to scan it-she believed it was a way of checking in-but she was a rule follower and did what she was supposed to.

After she checked in, Y/N walked past the desk and opened up the door to the actual gym. She didn’t see who was there with her, but she knew she would find them eventually. She walked about ten feet from the door and stopped before the red cubby holes. Y/N lightly laughed as she saw a light pink gym bag in a cubby towards the middle. She was slightly glad that the stranger didn’t take the one on the end of the right side, as that one was hers, and she hated it when someone would place their stuff in it. Well, it wasn’t technically hers, but everyone who came here throughout the day had their own personal cubby, so she naturally got defensive over it.

When Y/N walked past the door, to the left, there was a wall that was lined with treadmills, and that wall cut back into a smaller section of the gym that’s used for, well, Y/N didn’t quite know what that side was for, she just knew that the flooring was turf and it slightly agitated her. On the same wall that had the cubbies, it was lined up with three stair masters that Y/N hated, along with a pull-up machine, two different hip abduction machines, and some weird core machine you twisted on that scared Y/N. The second row included more machines; a couple of ellipticals, two bikes, a lat pulldown, one chest press, one tricep extension, and a bicep curl. There was a third row, but Y/N didn’t mess with that stuff too much except for the linear leg press. On the right wall was a full-length mirror that took up the entire width of the wall, with a rack of dumbbells toward the left side of the wall and leg machines with a squat rack towards the right. On the wall across the cubbies was the deadlift bar with another full-length mirror in front of it. And if Y/N walked to the left of the deadlift set, she would enter that turf area she hated.

Y/N placed her bag in her cubby and put her earbuds in as she walked over to the linear leg press with her water jug. She put the right amount of weighted plates on it and moved to lie down on the backrest. Y/N pushed the bars out that kept it locked, and when she brought it down and went to push up, her left eye caught something. She turned her head to see what had caught her eye, and her knees buckled, causing the leg press to come down quickly. Luckily, her legs didn’t go inward, and they just slammed into her chest, causing her to lose her breath.

Over on the turf was a captivating Latina doing pull-ups. She wore leggings with just a bra, and Y/N had to wipe the drool off her chin as her eyes ogled the woman’s back muscles. However, when her legs buckled, and the press came down on her, it caused a loud bang to echo throughout the vaguely empty gym, which caused the woman to drop down from the bar and face Y/N.

Y/N sent the woman an awkward smile followed by an awkward wave, and she mentally cursed herself for it. But she changed her mind when the woman let out a small laugh and wiggled her fingers at Y/N, giving her a playful wave before returning to her pull-ups.

When the woman turned around, a giant grin overtook Y/N’s face while she did a fist pump, clearly amazed at herself. Y/N then decided to continue her workout and began doing proper leg presses.

After she finished her first set, she started listening to music while subtly moving her eyes over to the turf side. She probably would have checked the woman out by now, but the turf also had mirrors on its wall that you could see the rest of the gym out of. So if Y/N had checked the woman out, the Latina would have seen Y/N nearly kill herself because she had tried to. The alluring woman had moved to cable rows, and Y/N had to pry her eyes away from the woman’s biceps, which were glistening with sweat.

‘I just wanna lick-ouch!’ Y/N thought as she continued her creepy staring but was cut off when her legs gave out again, causing the woman to look over at Y/N. This time, Y/N didn’t meet her gaze as she pushed up on the press and locked it. She got up from the seat and re-racked her weights. She refused to do leg stuff simply because she needed her leg strength to mow down children at her cousin’s birthday and not because the woman of her dreams kept making them weak.

Y/N grabbed her jug and phone and moved to the lat pull-down. She decided she would do her pull again, and also because she wanted her back to look good in case the beautiful woman decided to leave scratches on it.

Ten minutes had passed, and Y/N finally finished her set. She had started to work up a sweat and wiped it off with her shirt. Unbeknownst to her, the woman from earlier had caught the action and stared at Y/N’s abs. Sam felt she had looked at the stranger’s abs, but she couldn’t help. She thought the woman was a little awkward just based on their interaction from earlier, and against her better judgment, Sam wanted to know her better. She waited until Y/N moved to the chest press before walking toward her.

Y/N had been so focused on not embarrassing herself anymore that she didn’t see the woman approach her until she was standing in front of her. She took one earbud out to listen to the woman. “Are you done with this?” Aphrodite asked while gesturing to the lat pull-down machine. “Oh, yeah. Go ahead,” Y/N said while looking at the woman, “hey, I am sorry about earlier.”

Sam looked at Y/N with a raised eyebrow before she released what the woman was apologizing about. “Don’t worry about it; I’m just glad you aren’t hurt too bad,” Sam says in a gentle tone as she sits down on the seat of the machine. Y/N nods her head at Sam’s words and continues with her workout.

Twenty minutes had passed since their short conversion, and Y/N was done for the day. She was getting ready to leave when Sam asked her for help. “Would you mind spotting me?” Sam asked quietly, almost as if she was afraid to ask for help.

Y/N took a drink from her jug before nodding, “Of course.” She followed Sam to the bench press and stood at the head of the seat. She watched Sam add her plates to the bar and made a look of shock as she realized that Sam might be stronger than her, and she had to ignore the fire she felt in her core.

Sam lay on the bench and gripped the bar before slightly pushing it off the rack and bringing it down to her chest. Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as she watched Sam push up on the bar like it was easy work, and she continued to do 12 reps. Y/N helped Sam re-rack the bar as she took a break and sat up. “I never got your name,” Sam stated breathlessly, but she couldn't tell if it was from the bench press or the attractive woman in front of her.

“Oh, I’m Y/N. It's nice to officially meet you,” Y/N says with a smile as she extends her hand toward Sam. Sam accepts Y/N’s hand and slides her own into the woman’s. Y/N nearly melted onto the floor at the feeling of Sam’s rough hand against hers and had to hold back her rated-R thoughts when Sam gave her hand a gentle yet firm shake.

On the other hand, Sam felt something she had never felt before when her skin had made contact with Y/N. She felt that spark you only hear about in movies or books, the type of spark you feel when you find the one, and it shocked her. Instead of being an asshole like she wanted, Sam gave Y/N’s hand a firm shake, not meaning to be gentle about it. “I’m Sam, and it's nice to meet you as well,” Sam replied with a smile as she dropped Y/N’s hand. She then moved to lie down on the bench again and finish out her sets.

After her third and final set, Y/N helped her re-rack the bar again and the weights. When Y/N looked at Sam, she finally noticed that she was a couple of inches shorter than her, and for some reason, it boosted Y/N’s confidence. But that confidence quickly died when Y/N saw a small bead of sweat trail down Sam’s abdomen. Her face became red, and her tongue dry as her mind was filled with raunchy thoughts again. So she pretended she wasn’t in the middle of a gay panic and drank some water, trying to calm herself down while keeping her tongue wet for talking purposes and no other reason.

The two walked together toward the cubbies and grabbed their things. Sam pretended to look for something when Y/N asked, “How come I’ve never seen you here before?”

Sam chuckled at the question and looked over her right shoulder, “I moved here a few months ago, and I decided I needed a good gym to work out at. I tried a few different ones, but none of them stuck,” Sam said with a shrug of her shoulders.

“So why give Frattini’s a try?” Y/N asked with a playful smile before adding, “Not that I’m complaining, though.”

Sam rolled her eyes at the comment but returned the playful smile, “I prefer quality over quantity; I’m not a fan of chain gyms, and I like supporting the smaller ones.”

“Well, I don’t think you’ll find too much quality here, but it's a small gym, and everyone is nice here. And I also prefer smaller gyms,” Y/N said as she slung her bag over her shoulder. Sam copied the woman’s actions with her own bag and started walking toward the door with the woman. Y/N opened the door and held it for Sam, and Sam did the same thing with the front door.

The two walked out to their separate cars as the early morning sun barely peeked above the horizon. “I hope to see you around sometime, Sam,” Y/N said with a smile and hopeful eyes. She didn't know why, but she wanted to see Sam again soon.

“You will. And thank you for helping me, Y/N,” Sam replied as she opened her car door as well.

“Anytime,” Y/N said as she gave Sam one final smile before getting into her car and shutting the door. Sam smiled as she watched Y/N drive off before getting into her car, looking forward to seeing Y/N again soon.

Y/N shifted uncomfortably as she drove home; she regretted not showering, but again, she was glad she got to walk out with Sam. Her mind drifted off with thoughts of Sam, and she wondered when she would see the beautiful woman. She regretted not asking her for her number, but she felt that it might have been too forward.

When the next morning arrived, instead of moping around in bed, Y/N sprang out of bed with excitement. She quickly brushed her teeth and put in her contacts while she eagerly got dressed. She grabbed her phone, earbuds, and water jug before entering the kitchen. Y/N refilled her jug and put the lid back on as she moved toward the door. She grabbed her keys, locked the door, and basically skipped out to her car. She turned on her car and pulled out of the garage as excitement overtook her body.

Y/N knew it was crazy to be this excited at 4:45 in the morning, but she couldn’t help it. Her mind had been plagued with thoughts of Sam so much that during her cousin’s birthday party, she forgot to get a piece of cake she had worked so hard for.

As Y/N pulled up to the gym, she almost screamed with happiness; it would be just her and Sam again today. She parked her car, turned it off, and flew out of the car with all her things. She scanned her key fob twice and acted calm and collected as she placed her things in her cubby. Y/N never liked working on Saturdays, but she would force herself to like it if she got Sam all to herself. She walked over to the leg press and hoped she could get leg day in, but just as she laid down, Sam walked out of the bathroom and stopped right in front of Y/N. “Hey, sailor,” Sam said with a flirty tone, and Y/N almost did a repeat of yesterday morning, but she caught herself and started her workout.

“Missed me already?” Y/N questioned as she pushed up with her legs, trying her best to focus on building her leg strength and not the gorgeous woman currently towering over her. Sam wore the same outfit from yesterday but in a different color, and Y/N had to fight back a bark.

Sam scoffed at Y/N’s words, “Of course not; I just happened to see you struggling, and I decided to offer you my support.”

Y/N finished up her set and locked the machine before sitting up slightly. “You wound me, Sam,” Y/N said with a hurt expression that quickly turned into a playful one.

“Well, if I wound you so much, I guess you wouldn’t want to work out with me then,” Sam suggested with a sigh before she pretended to walk off.

When Y/N saw Sam turn away from her and begin to walk off, she quickly stood up. “I’d like to work out with you,” Y/N spewed out quickly, causing Sam to turn around and raise her eyes rows, “only if you want me to, though.”

Sam laughed at the woman’s nervousness as she walked toward the girl and gently slapped her arm, “come on, let’s do some legs.” Y/N smiled at Sam’s words and followed the Latina to the squat rack, her heartbeat picking up for an unknown reason.

Y/N helplessly watched as Sam added her weights to the bar and ducked under it, and stood up, resting it on her shoulders as she gripped the bar. “Spot me?” She asked, snapping Y/N out of her thoughts. She nodded her head as her hands ghosted over Sam’s hips. She knew this wasn’t the proper way to spot someone, but she saw an opportunity and took it.

Sam’s body heated up when she felt Y/N’s hands close to her hips. She knew that this wasn’t the correct way to have a spotter, but she enjoyed having Y/N’s hands on her hips and didn’t want to lose contact.

When Sam would squat down with the bar, Y/N slightly copied the woman’s movements, ensuring everything was appropriately aligned. Sam suddenly felt nervous when Y/N copied her moves, and when she stood back up, her eyes locked with Y/N’s in the mirror.

Y/N gave Sam a polite smile with her hands still resting on the woman’s hips. “Hi,” Y/N breathlessly said.

“Hi,” San replied with a faint smile. She couldn’t tell if her heartbeat was going a mile a minute because of the squats or if she was simply flustered due to the attractive woman standing behind her. She refused to believe it was the latter.

Sam continued the rest of her set, and when she was done, she and Y/N would trade places. Sam tried her best to make sure that Y/N’s legs didn’t dip inward, but she was too distracted. Every time Y/N would stand up, she would let out a small groan, and Sam hated the way it made her feel.

When the two finished with squats, they started on the leg press. Sam watched with hooded eyes as Y/N’s quads flexed every time the woman straightened her legs. By the time Y/N had finished all three of her sets, Sam had got speechless.

“Sam? You okay?” Y/N asked as she got up from the seat and stood before Sam, gently placing her hands on Sam’s forearms. The contact pulled Sam out of whatever trenches they were, and she shook her head, “No, yeah, I’m good. Sorry about that; I was just distracted.”

Y/N nodded at Sam’s words, gave the woman’s forearms a soft squeeze, and dropped her hands down to her sides. “Alright then, what next?” Y/N asked with a gentle smile.

Almost an hour later, the two women had completed their workout, and Sam somehow managed to avoid going into cardiac arrest. Y/N was glad she got to spend more time with the pretty woman. “So, do you work out on Sundays?” Y/N asked when they got to their cubbies. She was messing around with her bag and refused to look at Sam.

“No, that’s my only day off. Why do you ask?” Sam questioned as her heart thumped steadily against her ribcage; she hoped that Y/N would ask her out, either in a platonic or friendly way. She didn’t care which one it was; just as long as she was with Y/N, she was ecstatic.

Y/N stopped messing with her hand and turned to face Sam. Any previous nerves were gone, nowhere to be seen. The woman's confident smile lit up the gym, and her eyes danced across Sam’s body. On the other hand, Sam seemed to absorb Y/N’s nervousness; her face began to heat up, her palms started to sweat, and for the life of her, she could not look the taller woman directly in the eye.

“I was hoping you would want to do something with me tomorrow? You know, outside of the gym,” Y/N asked as she put her bag over her shoulder, getting ready to head to the showers.

“Why does it have to be tomorrow and not today?” Sam asked when she finally made eye contact with Y/N. She noticed how the woman’s cheeks pulled with her smile, indicating that her confidence was a facade to hide her nerves.

Y/N perked up when she heard Sam’s request, and she instantly beamed. “Oh, I didn’t know if you had plans for today. But if you don’t, I would love to go do something with you later,” Y/N said as she shuffled from one foot to another but maintained a smile.

“I don’t have anything else to do today, so I’m free whenever,” Sam responded while matching Y/N’s smile. She had just met the other girl yesterday, but she couldn’t help the gravitational pull she felt towards the taller woman.

Y/N nodded her head at Sam’s words and slightly pulled on the strap that was across her chest, “Sweet! I mean, okay. We can get breakfast or something once I finish my shower.”

A small laughter rang throughout the gym when Y/N mentioned her shower. “You’re seriously taking a shower here?” Sam asked with a small laugh.

“Of course, I can’t smell bad for our date,” Y/N replied but froze as she called it a date. She hadn’t meant to call it one, but she couldn’t help but yearn for a date with the beautiful woman before her. Y/N noticed how Sam caught her slip up and the way she froze, so she decided to direct the attention away from her. “Unless you would want to join me?” She asked with a smirk that surprised Sam.

The remark flew through Sam’s ear and out the other as embarrassment overtook her. She was never flustered easily, but there was something about Y/N that caused her entire body to act out of line. “You aren’t that slick, Y/N. I’ll just wait for you out here,” Sam said with a smile as she tried her best to hide her evident excitement. She would storm into heaven and hell if it meant she could see Y/N naked in her bed, but she kept those thoughts to herself. The last thing Y/N needed to know was that Sam had been thinking about fornicating with her since they started working out together.

“Are you sure? This is a once-in-a-lifetime offer, and it expires in ten seconds,” Y/N said as she walked backward to the showers, and both women ignored how she almost tripped.

“I’m sure, Y/N, you won’t win me over that easily. Just hurry up,” Sam replied with a small smile as she grabbed her things. She watched as Y/N asked again if she wanted to join her before the taller woman disappeared into the shower room.

Y/N practically ran into the closest shower and stripped in record time. She did a quick rinse with soap and water; Sam told her to be quick about it, and she listened. She finished up her shower and threw on her clothes, and calmly walked out of the shower room with a smile, but her grin dropped as she saw that Sam was nowhere to be seen.

She walked to the cubbies and saw that Sam’s bag was gone, but she found a small note in her own cubby.

‘My sister cut herself with a knife trying to cut an apple, and I have to take her to the hospital. I’m still looking forward to our breakfast later today. Call me!

Sam ;)

XXX-XXX-XXXX’

Y/N smiled at the note as she pushed the door to the lobby open with her back. She pulled out her phone and sent Sam a quick text message asking if her sister was alright, to which she got an immediate reply of a picture of Sam and her little sister sitting in her car together. The sister had her right hand wrapped in a bloody bandage resting in her lap while her left hand was flipping the camera off. She had no smile as opposed to her older sister, who had a giant one on her face and gave the camera a slight thumbs up.

She was going to ask if she needed to reschedule their date, but Y/N erased the message when Sam sent, ‘I’ll drop the child off at the ER, and we can eat shitty hospital food while she gets stitches, my treat!’ Y/N smiled at the message and returned a picture of herself with a thumbs up, eager to see Sam again, even if it was in an awful hospital cafeteria.

[leiascully]

X-Files OctoberFicFest Day 2: Eat

This year, I'm using the 2022 prompts from @artpromptcal.

Fox Mulder can't remember his mother telling him to eat. Strange, for a Jewish mother. Everyone else showed up to camp with snacks tucked underneath the socks in their trunk. But Mulder's mother didn't pack his things, didn't leave him little treats. Most of them got confiscated anyway, under threat of bears, and redistributed by the dining hall. Still, he had none. He gnawed his way through other mothers' stashes of beef jerky and stale cookies.

Not even after Sam's abduction, when the neighborhood women banded together to bring wave after wave of casseroles and stews, did Teena Mulder heap her son's plate. He can't remember her ever pushing another serving of anything at him. She barely ate. Neither did his father. Dinners at their house were a sad affair. He thinks they scraped more leftovers into the trash in those years than they ever ate. Meanwhile, he hunched over his plate, scraping every morsel into his mouth, unable to satisfy the hurt that gnawed inside him.

"Fox, will you eat something?" Maggie Scully says as he keeps vigil beside Scully's bed. She's all right now, only sleeping, but he sits anyway, in the waning hours that the hospital will tolerate visitors. She fell asleep mid-conversation, and it's strange to be here, but comforting too.

"I am a little hungry," he admits. Maggie produces a sandwich from her purse: peanut butter and grape jelly, squashy but serviceable. "Thank you."

"You need to keep your strength up too," Maggie tells him, smiling gently.

"For her." Mulder nods to the angelic shape in the bed.

"For both of you." Maggie puts a hand on his shoulder.

Somewhere deep inside him, some hunger eases.

[mmelancholicdaze]

drabble #2: one month.

PAIRINGS. hwang hyunjin x fem!reader.

GENRES. fluff, smut, failed attempt at crack.

SUMMARY. hyunjin would soon be leaving to jeju for a month for his yearly family reunion, but he’s not leaving without ensuring he has every last piece of you engraved in his mind.

WORD COUNT. 3.2K

WARNINGS. unprotected sex (this is fiction!!), oral (f. receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms.

A/N. this was actually supposed to be posted in late july, but life seemed to have other plans. this is just a little scenario that takes place before chapter one of my ‘like the movies’ fic. it’s not super important to know, but it’ll help make the references to hyunjin and yeji’s holiday in jeju make more sense. while this is connected to a series, it can be read as a standalone! i hope you enjoy. xx

Rain splattered the window pane, blurring the outside world on the other side as the storm showed no signs of stopping soon. Thunder rumbled in the distance every now and then, followed by flashes of lightening. Though it was all but forgotten, your full attention on Hyunjin as he ran back and forth around his room like a lunatic.

“Sketchbook? Pencils? Paints? Paint brushes?” Yeji’s voice came through the speaker of Hyunjin’s phone, listing off everything he needed to remember to pack.

“Yes, yes…” Hyunjin shifted through the chaos of clothes he had just thrown into his suitcase, groaning in annoyance before he finally spotted what he was looking for at the bottom. “Yes and yes.”

“Laptop?”

“Packed.”

“Phone charger? Because if you steal mine again,” Yeji grew serious, the volume of her voice raising. “I will shove your dirty socks down your throat until you choke. Sorry, Y/N.”

You didn’t even try to stop the inevitable giggle that bubbled in your stomach from Yeji’s petty threat, your lips spreading into a grin at Hyunjin’s eye roll.

In the morning, Hyunjin and Yeji would leave to go on holiday for a month. First meeting their parents in Jeonju before leaving to Jeju to join the rest of their family. Something their grandparents liked to call their yearly ‘pretend there’s no animosity and we’re all just one big happy family’ trip. It was no surprise that Hyunjin had waited until last minute to pack, now on the phone with Yeji to make sure he didn’t forget anything. Like he most definitely would do, had he been left to manage things on his own.

So here you were, sitting cross-legged in the middle of Hyunjin’s bed and surrounded by a plethora of clothes and other various items. His drawers and closet door hung open, every surface practically covered and he rushed to get everything packed.

“And Hyunjin, I swear on your precious little painting of Kkami, that if your ass is late in the morning, I am leaving without you.” Knowing Yeji and her no-nonsense attitude, you didn’t have a single doubt that she wasn’t bluffing. “If you are even so much as two seconds—”

She was abruptly cut off, Hyunjin snatching the phone from your hand and hanging up on her. You gasped, your mouth agape as you watched his back as he left the room, incredulous that he actually just up and hung up on her like that. You unfolded your feet from beneath you, climbing around the miscellaneous clothes to the edge of the bed. Just as you planted your feet on the floor, Hyunjin walked back in with his toiletry bag and tossed it on top of the pile that dominated his suitcase.

You really hoped he wasn’t going to just shove it all in there without folding or organizing any of it.

“Hwang Hyunjin,” you said in an assertive tone, placing your hands on your hips. “Did you just hang up on your sister while she was mid-sentence?”

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow, resting his hands on his hips and mimicking your pose. “Yes. And?”

“That was rude!” You scoffed, moving your arms to cross them over your chest. “You should call her back and apologize.”

“Now why would I do that?” Hyunjin was impassive as he turned to his suitcase, beginning to sort through the heap of clothing and fold them. Thank god.

“Um, to be a good brother?” You moved to stand beside him, beginning to help fold and pack them into the suitcase neatly. “You know, you do that too much. Too often. How would you feel if they did that to you? Consecutively? You can’t just keep hanging up on people while they’re talking just because you don’t want to listen—”

You didn’t have time to finish your lecture, suddenly lying on your back on Hyunjin’s bed as he hovered above you, grabbing onto his shoulders for a sense of stability. His lips centimeters from yours, his nose a flutter away from touching yours. A warm feeling spread through your chest, a tingling sensation shooting down your spine and spreading down your arms, confused as to whether you should kiss him or push him away.

“Sorry,” Hyunjin breathed out a laugh, a smirking tugging up one side of his lips. “Were you talking?”

It took your brain a few seconds to catch up, but once you did, you weren’t surprised. Of course Hyunjin was deflecting — a.k.a., the entire reason you were chiding him in the first place. It was his worst habit. One you were determined to help rehabilitate into communicating.

You shouldn’t let him get away with this.

Giving in would only encourage his constant pattern of walking away every time he finds something to be an inconvenience.

If only your thoughts were more convincing to the rest of your body. Butterflies filled your belly, fluttering against your heart that was now pounding against your chest at such a rapid pace you were worried it might explode. Warmth spread through your veins, collecting between your thighs and burning at your core.

Arousal is definitely not what you should be feeling right now, nor should you be thinking of every way Hyunjin could brand his touch into your skin until he had to leave for the airport.

Though, the feeling was unsurprising and definitely not foreign. Somehow, you always ended up in a similar predicament every time you and Hyunjin were alone.

Or any time he came around, really — regardless if there were other people in the room.

“Hyunjin.” Your voice came out scratchy, clearing your throat and trying not to focus on the intense lust flooding your brain. “You can’t just—”

Once Hyunjin’s lips brushed the skin on your neck, what you were going to say completely disappearing. With feather light kisses and a lick here and there, Hyunjin made his way across your jaw to your lips. They molded perfectly into yours, a soft whimper working its way out at the simple action.

“Hyunjin,” you tried against once he pulled away, coming out breathlessly.

Hyunjin shook his head, giving a faint ‘shh’ before pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips then trailing his lips across your cheek. “Don’t speak,” he whispered into your ear, his hand now caressing up and down the length of your left thigh, goosebumps pricking from his barely there touch. “Please just let me enjoy you tonight.”

Fuck.

Hyunjin’s lips came to yours, and that was all it took for you to succumb. This boy was going to be the death of you, you were sure.

It started off slow and sweet, his lips soft against yours as they moved in a rhythmic tandem, fitting together like puzzle pieces. His hand had moved from stroking your thigh to the back of your head, his fingers threading in your hair and holding you in place like he was afraid you would disappear.

You whimpered in protest when Hyunjin pulled away, opening your eyes and meeting his dark ones. At first, they were soft and shining. He looked at you like you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, and he truly thought you were. Ever since he first laid eyes on you on that playground all those years ago.

If anything, he thought you’ve only became more beautiful.

The adoration he held for you was insurmountable. All he wanted to do was protect you, and there was nothing he wouldn’t do if it meant making you happy.

But in this moment, all he wanted was to devour you.

You watched the lust glaze over his eyes, his expression growing dark as he breaths became harder. The hand on the back of your head tightened, your scalp stinging from his grip. He only had the next six hours, until he wouldn’t see you for a whole month. He wasn’t going to take advantage of it, until he had engraved every inch of your skin into his mind, so deep that he’d never forget how you felt beneath him.

Hyunjin’s lips are back on yours in a split second, now with more strength and passion.

His hands roamed all over your body, as if he was urgent and needed to touch every inch of your skin at once. He moved to your neck, immediately kissing and sucking hard enough that you knew there would be marks in the morning. You tilted your head to give him more access, a soft moan of bliss slipping passed your lips.

You barely noticed when his hands slipped underneath your shirt, gripping and pulling at your waist until you were flush against him. Fireworks erupted beneath his touch, spreading like wildfire as they moved up your sides to your ribs, his hands cupping around your breasts with your bra being the only remaining barrier. The bulge pressing into your core was hard to ignore, pressing perfectly against your clit. If only you were able to move your hips, or Hyunjin would move his, something.

“Hyunjin,” you whispered in a whine, sliding your hands down his chest and over his beautifully defined abs, tugging at his shirt in such desperation you probably looked pathetic. But you didn’t care. You’d already lost all sense.

Finally, he pressed his hips down into yours, brushing against your clit enough that it immediately had your pussy clenching around nothing while something fiery consumed your core. Cool air abruptly wrapped around you, opening your eyes to see Hyunjin was now sitting back on his heels as his eyes prowled down your body with something you could only describe as something like an inferno.

“If I have to go an entire month without being able to touch you,” he said as he reached behind his head and pulled his shirt off, carelessly tossing it aside without a second thought. “Then I’m not stopping until we have to walk out that door.”

For a moment, you’re positive your heart stopped beating.

Contrary to the intense atmosphere and his not so silent promise that the only thing you were going to remember when he was finished was his name, he was gentle in his movements as he rid you of your clothes. All you wore was one of Hyunjin’s shirts and a pair of panties, having expected that you would be going to sleep after Hyunjin finished packing.

Which was a silly thing to assume, this boy didn’t know what it meant to keep his hands to himself.

His eyes never stop roaming over your body when he trails his fingers from your ankles to your knees, wrapping around the inside of your thighs to push your legs further apart.

“Fuck.” mumbles in a low, gravely tone when your already sodden pussy came into view. His thumb easily glided over your wet folds as he stared in fascination and fervor. “This wet for me already?”

You barely registered the question before Hyunjin was already on his stomach, wrapping his arms around the backs of your thighs and pulling you flush against his face. There was no warning, instantly licking from entrance to clit. It sent tingles up your spine, fisting at the sheets as pleasure rolled through your body like waves with each lick.

It quickly became aggravating, how slow and unhurried he went. Like he had all the time in the world. As if he wasn’t driving you to the brink of insanity every time he lazily swirled his tongue around your clit, tenderly sucking before continuing the languid strokes of his tongue.

“Jinnie,” you mewled, running your fingers into his hair, your not so blunt nails digging into his scalp. If it caused him any pain, he didn’t show it.

With one last quick flick to your clit, Hyunjin reluctantly pulled away, but only by a few inches. His scorching gaze found yours, his panting breaths hot on your skin.

“Yes, baby girl?” He feigned innocence, a wicked smirk lifting at one side of his lips when you blubbered in frustration. His tongue poked out to slide across his upper lip, stopping at the corner briefly. One of your favorite habits he did, even though it was such a simple motion that others always overlooked.

“Please.” You were so close to crying. Begging him to stop teasing, to just finally fuck you and relieve both of your lust driven hazes. He had to be dying for it too, you just knew. “Please, please, please!”

“Since you ask so nicely,” he condescendingly chuckled, finally giving you what you wanted.

He returned back to your clit, now sucking harder and licking faster, swiftly inserting two fingers and curling them to hit that perfect little spot. He was relentless, every little movement sending a fire through your bloodstream. The sounds coming from your mouth were nearly pornographic, complete nonsense to your ears. Various curses were all your brain could form, along with screams of his name.

After one more hard thrust of his fingers, the pressure that had been building and building deep inside your belly snaps. Your eyes squeezed shut as you let out what was most likely the loudest scream you’d ever managed. All of your muscles tense, your legs closing around Hyunjin’s head as you uncontrollably continued to clench around his fingers.

Seconds pass, and you’re unsure how long your blinding high lasted. The only thing you’re able to register is the touch of Hyunjin’s hands and lips as he trailed back up, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, placing a hand on top of your head with his fingers scratching at your scalp.

“Too much?” He whispered beside your ear, all traces of the wanton beast he was only moments ago gone.

You were in complete bliss. Thoroughly sated, limbs and mind as relaxed as they could get. But there was still a throbbing heat between your legs. Oversensitivity, mixed with the devastating sensation of wanting more. Needing more.

The air surrounding you was calm. Serene, almost.

You felt safe.

With Hyunjin, you always did.

He lifts his head and begins pressing kisses over your cheeks, to your forehead, to your nose, then your chin before landing on your lips. It seemed like Hyunjin’s favorite thing to do, plant kisses all over your face until there wasn’t a single piece of skin left feeling unloved.

If you were being honest, it was your favorite, too.

When he pulled back to look at you, there was only a hint of lust amongst something you weren’t ready to recognize quite yet. He looked ready to do whatever you decided, whether that be to continue or simply go to sleep. He looked at you like you held the world in the palm of your hands, which only helped to intensify the growing warmth and flutter in your chest.

“Let me return the favor?” You finally found your voice, your deft fingers starting to rid him of his own pajama pants before he grabbed your wrists.

“Later.” He promised, chuckling when you pouted. “Right now, I need to feel you.”

Shifting himself between your legs, he positioned his tip at your entrance, eyes flicking to yours for confirmation. Only after you gave a nod did he ease himself in, slowly inch by inch until he bottomed out. A soft moan echoed in the back of your throat as Hyunjin groaned loudly, resting his forehead on your shoulder as you got accustomed to his size.

You felt full, so full. Perfectly so, almost like you were made for each other.

No. You immediately pushed that thought to the back of your mind, telling yourself you’ll confront it later.

Right now, the only thing you can focus on is the firm rolls of Hyunjin’s hips, his thrusts starting shallow and slow. The slight discomfort gradually turned into pleasure, a soft tap on his side letting him know he doesn’t need to keep holding back.

With a relieved groan, Hyunjin sat up and grabbed your hips, pulling out to the tip then slamming back in. A sound that was something between a whimper and a moan slipped past your lips, then he did it again.

And again.

And again.

Until his hips were snapping into yours, with such sharpness and vigor you weren’t sure you were going to be able to walk out of this room without some sort of help.

You were so far gone, it took you longer than necessary to realize the screams filling the small apartment were yours. When you started, you weren’t sure, and you could only hope his neighbors didn’t file some sort of complaint. But you were passed the point of being able to care.

Hyunjin thrived as he watched you writhe beneath him, your volume only encouraging him. His pace had turned viscous, his headboard banging against the wall with every thrust. There wasn’t a single break in his merciless thrusts, your cunt pulsing and fluttering around him as the coil inside you twisted tighter and tighter.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes when Hyunjin grabbed one of your legs and threw it over his shoulder, creating a whole new angle and allowing him in much deeper. Your mind ultimately blanks, a mantra of what you think is his name leaving your lips. You’re so close, your core that’s tighter than a drum begging for release.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

It’s such an innocent statement, not even close to being sexual, but it’s still the tipping point that pushed you over the edge. Euphoria rushes through your veins, grabbing at the sheets as you tried to find anything to hold onto while your mind entirely blacked out in pleasure.

Hyunjin followed seconds after, releasing a guttural drawn-out groan as his body collapsed on top of you. His forearms landed on either side of your head, making sure his entire body weight didn’t crush you beneath him. Once you were finally able to control your limbs again, you wrapped your arms around his waist, tracing your fingertips in mindless patterns while you both got ahold of reality again.

It isn’t until Hyunjin moves that you realize he was still inside you, wincing as he pulls out. He mutters something about how he’d be right back, and you mentally praise him for even being able to move. Your eyes were heavy, and it took every ounce of energy you had left just to squint.

A minute later, there’s a soft, warm towel between your legs, his movements so soft and gentle as he cleaned you up. After he’s done, you don’t see what he does with the towel, just sensing him move you up the bed until your head hit the pillow and the warm blankets wrap around you like a cocoon.

When did you close your eyes again?

The bed shifts as Hyunjin slips in beside you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. Naturally, your head went to lay on his chest, an arm draping over his waist while your legs intertwined with his. The last thing you remember is a gentle kiss on your forehead, quickly drifting off to dreamland while Hyunjin whispered sweet nothings into your ear about how good you were for him, how wonderful and beautiful you are, and that he’d be here when you wake up.

You were wrong.

Sex isn’t euphoria.

This is.

© all rights reserved to mmelancholicdaze, 2021. do NOT copy or modify any part of my stories. do NOT translate or repost my works on any platform.

constructive criticism and feedback is welcome! xx

[autumnslance]

Year of the OTP - August 2023 - Snowstorm

(Whoops, fell off with this thanks to Other Writing Projects, but let's get back into the swing with 2500 words of Heavensward pre-relationship and a draft I have sat on for years and am finally reworking and yeeting out here...Original prompt list here! Something of a sequel, or at least a similar situation, to Sandstorm.)

“This seems familiar,” Aeryn said as they shoved the old door closed against the howling winds.

“In some ways,” Thancred agreed, unable to stop his teeth from chattering. “Should we worry about heretics or creatures?”

“Durendaire cleared this hamlet recently,” Aeryn said. “I remember talking to Redwald about it, so figured it was safe enough for shelter.”

Thancred nodded and stamped his feet, following her from the foyer to the cramped sitting room of the abandoned house, one of many dotted across the icy countryside after the Calamity. The farmhouse wasn’t large, nor had it seen recent upkeep from weather such as the blizzard winding up outside.

It didn’t help that Thancred was soaked up to his thighs, having slid off an embankment and onto ice thinner than it had looked while they had fought their quarry for Clan Centurio, a rogue aevis of unusual size. It was a part of Nidhogg’s emboldened brood and had been terrorizing the supply lines from Falcon’s Nest to the Convictory and Tailfeather.

The dragon was dead—but they would be too, if they didn’t get a fire going soon. The temperature was noticeably dropping.

“Been awhile since we outpaced a storm like that,” Thancred said while they did their best to shut themselves into a single room. “Not sure if I wish to be in a sandstorm instead, though.”

“This is much too cold for my Thavnairian blood,” Aeryn sniffed. A quick check showed some remnant firewood made of broken furnishings. She got the fire going, using magic to speed the process.

“You’re half-Coerthan,” Thancred replied. “Surely that affords you some acclimation.”

“I left when this place still had proper seasons,” she countered. “You have to get those boots off.” She dug into her pack for blankets or anything else to help. Despite the spellwork making it capable of carrying quite a lot without burdening the wearer, Thancred knew what a crowded mess her bag was, and shuddered.

Or maybe that was just the cold.

“Working on it,” he replied, shrugging off the winter coat he had donned for this venture. He hung it over a nearby chair that yet survived, turning it to the fireplace to help dry the fabric, his gloves left on the seat. Then he sat heavily on the large, fuzzy rug—it was ragged, but at least in this cold there probably weren’t fleas or other vilekin—and began fumbling at the buckles and laces of his boots, fingers not as nimble as usual.

“Let me help,” Aeryn said, dropping a blanket next to him as she knelt on the rug.

“I’ve got—” He growled in frustration as his fingers slipped past a buckle again. Her hands caught his, pressing his fingers between her warm palms. “Fine, I don’t have it,” he admitted, breath caught at the feeling. At least there was a feeling.

“You’re colder than I thought,” Aeryn said, frowning. She let go of his hand, and it was an effort for him to not whimper at the loss. She quickly got his boots off, and the socks beneath them, pulling the wet fabric carefully. The feel of her fingers on his legs sent more shocks through him. “Um. Your pants are soaked, too,” she said.

“Then they’ll have to go,” he replied. “I can manage that, as entertaining the idea of you further undressing me is,” Thancred joked. He couldn’t help but grin at her expected blush.

“Well, you’re not so far gone as I’d feared,” she replied dryly. But she smiled in return, relieved he had the energy for his usual teasing demeanor.

“You’re not rid of me that easily,” he said. “And you should remove your own damp layers, Aeryn.”

She nodded in response, turning away from him as she removed her coat and boots. While she did, he managed to unlace and unbutton his pants and wriggle them off, dropping them aside while keeping the blanket over his lap for her sense of modesty more than his own. At least he had smalls on; while staying with the Vath, that hadn’t been an option. He pulled his sweat-damp top off while at it.

He distantly watched her hang up their gear to dry, over random old furnishings or even carefully off the mantle. She dug through his pack, too, for anything to help with the cold. He ought to help, but mostly wanted to sit and doze by the fire. She knelt by him again, and he thought the way the firelight framed her was rather pretty. “How are you feeling, Thancred?”

“Cold and tired, and my feet still feel number than I like.”

“May I?” At his nod, she pushed up the blanket and began examining and massaging his feet and calves to stimulate circulation, her skin warm and soft against his and gods. He swallowed hard and watched as her shoulders relaxed. “I don’t think you’re in danger of frostbite, just cold—”

“Could you keep massaging just a bit longer?” he blurted. “It’s helping.” He didn’t want to try to explain how much he didn’t want to lose the sensation of another’s skin on his, the simple touch of another person. He kept his eyes down as she studied him briefly, but then she nodded and continued for a few more minutes.

It was heavenly.

“It’s still getting colder,” she noted, finally moving away to look for more fuel for the fire; there wasn’t much left in the room. “We’ll have to strip down and sleep next to each other for warmth.”

He raised a brow, surprised she had been the one to suggest such. Then again, she had been living in Coerthas for moons now and had learned from her hosts. That was what he meant to say. What slipped out was an attempted jape: “Is that how things started with Lord Haurchefant?”

Aeryn’s face reddened as she fumbled with an old, broken set of shelves. “No!” she snapped, focusing on the fallen bits of wood to carry to the fire.

“I’m sorry, I’m not thinking clearly,” Thancred said, rubbing his arms. “I know his loss is still recent and naught to joke about. I do admit to a bit of confusion, as I recall you not caring for romantic matters and yet—”

“Stop.” Her tone was sharp, her back to him as she tried to busy herself by the fire. “Please,” she added after a moment.

He frowned at her back, more irate than he perhaps should have been. Probably just the cold.

“It wasn’t like that,” she finally said so quietly that he almost missed it. “I know about the gossip, and the godsdamned songs and poems the local bards have spun up since that day in the Vault, and since my return upon Midgardsormr.”

Which was how Thancred had first heard; he wouldn’t have given such the tavern bawds credence, however, if he hadn’t also spoken to the Fortemps servants about how besotted the young lord had been with their guest, and how she was so carefully interested in return, and wasn’t it all just so terribly tragic, she had been so aggrieved…

“If I could stop all those rumors, I would,” she practically growled. “Haurchefant was…a friend. That’s…that’s all.”

Thancred peered at her. She was still turned away, staring into the fire. “You’re still a bad liar,” he pointed out.

Aeryn did turn now, to scowl at him. She looked about to say something, then blinked, her irritation turning to concern. “Hells, Thancred, you’re freezing.”

“There is a blizzard out there.”

She shook her head, finishing removing her own clothes until she was just in her band and smalls, then dove under the blanket with him. He expected back to back, but she wrapped her limbs around him and was not only warm, but the close contact with another person again left him heady.

Thancred thought for a moment. How long had it been since he had touched, and been touched, by another person so intimately? Moons, certainly, even counting his brief tryst with Hilda on his first arriving in Ishgard. That had been...different, than this; more desperation than anything, sating an immediate need for carnal contact with willing company (and that wasn’t insectoid).

All right then; how long since he had experienced an innocently friendly, intimate touch with no other expectations? He really couldn’t say, as he wrapped his arms around Aeryn in return.

“I’d…tried to reciprocate his affections,” Aeryn said after a moment. Thancred frowned. Her head rested on his shoulder, dark strands of hair tickling his cheek while her breath was warm on his collarbone when she spoke. “He was my friend, and I cared for him as such—and realized, too late, that was how it was. He wanted something else. Then everything happened and I never got—never took—the chance to clear the air with him before…everything happened.”

“I’m sorry,” Thancred said, wincing. “For how that turned out, for that loss of a friend, and for my thoughtlessness and heeding of base rumors.”

He could imagine the little thinking crease between her brows as she took a long moment to respond. “Thank you,” she said eventually, not elaborating. Then she sighed. “Not the first time I’ve made such an error. I thought I’d grown past such, knew myself better. I hate feeling like I led the man on, or used him.”

“Knowing you, I doubt that’s what happened,” Thancred said. “Still, nice to know our Warrior of Light’s yet fallible,” he teased gently, jostling her.

She whined a little. “Keep that up and I’ll kick you all night.”

“Ah, is that the danger I face?”

“Only if you listen to my sisters. Or Yda. Or Y’shtola. Or—just go to sleep.”

He chuckled, watching the fire and listening to the wind howl outside. It was as cold as the Hell of Ice outside of their little nest of blankets. So stay put and don’t examine any other reason besides staying warm as to why that seemed like a nice idea.

Thancred shut the mental door firmly there. Aeryn was a friend and colleague, and they’d both been through too much hell in recent moons. His time of isolation had affected his mind and physical reactions when he was literally freezing and she only did what was necessary to keep him in good health, despite his acting like an ass. Had their positions been reversed, he’d have done the same with no thought of anything but her safety.

Well, he may still have made a few jokes, just to make her scoff and smile and snark back the way she usually did when he teased. He had truly missed that, and was truly sorry for causing distress by bringing up those rumors.

He merely wanted to look out for her interests and her own bruised heart. That was all.

—

He was alone. The plain was unending, empty but for the buzzing of insects and the distant roar of dragons. The wind howled, sounding like the shouts and screams of men in blue uniforms. Their ghosts sliced at his bare flesh as he ran, calling out the names of the Scions until he was hoarse while cold shadows blotted out his vision and Ultima burned through his veins as Lahabrea laughed…

—

“Thancred!” Aeryn’s voice jolted him awake. It was soon followed by the warmth of her hand on his face, checking his temperature. “Are you all right?”

“Bad dream,” he rasped, clearing his throat. “Apologies if my thrashing woke you.”

“More your clinging,” she said. She was one to talk, given how she had latched on like a barnacle. Aeryn started to remove her hand, but he caught it, holding it against his cheek, needing to keep that gentle touch, noting her scars and calluses, letting that reality ground him in time and place. “Thancred?”

“Apologies,” he said. “I simply…” Am acting a fool.

“You were alone for a while,” she said gently.

He smiled wanly, finally lifting his gaze to her. She was propped on her elbow, watching him. His eye covering had slipped off in his restless slumber; his left eye was beginning to throb from the aetherial underlay it showed, a result of the damage he had taken from the Flow before being spat into the Dravanian wilderness. He temporarily forgot the discomfort it caused as he finally looked at Aeryn with his eye uncovered. She glowed with bright aether, sparking across every ilm in shimmering blue, tracing her limbs, outlining each muscle, every scar, the well of brilliant strength within her possibly fathomless...

“The Vath are not the best company for a fleshling, unfortunately,” he admitted after too long spent staring. “I didn’t realize how lonely I had been until...well, until you all found me again.”

She pulled him close, letting him lean on her this time in a simple embrace. “You’re here,” she said quietly. “You’re all right.”

He let out a heavy sigh and listened to the steadiness of her heartbeat, breathed in the hint of her violas mixed with the tang of earlier activity sweat. “Do you ever tire of taking care of people?” he asked, only half joking.

“Sometimes,” she admitted, like it was a recent realization she was still parsing through. “But not right now.” Another pause, and a slight squeeze. “I’ve spent too long worried for all of you. Wanting to find everyone, and we still haven’t—“ She stopped.

“I’m glad you found me,” he said. “And with your good luck, it won’t be long until we find the others.” Until we find Minfilia.

He thought to wait until Aeryn was asleep again before adjusting to a more appropriate position— he was aware of exactly where her thigh was despite the innocence of their situation—but then her fingertips brushed his bare left cheek, startling him. “I just realized your bandana fell off.”

“It’s fine, didn’t mean to sleep with it on at all,” he muttered, reveling in the sensation of her fingers tracing along his cheekbone. Ever-caring, their Aeryn; she was simply helping him (again, a part of him hissed, a part he told to shut up) after so long on his own.

“No scarring; I thought you were injured?” she sounded like she wasn’t certain if she should be annoyed or not.

“Not physically, as such,” he answered. Her fingers ghosted over his eye, and there was an ever-so-slight bit of warmth and light; the only indication of magic used. He could no longer feel the shift in the aether, but he kept that annoying fact to himself.

“Aetheric damage,” she said, resting that hand on his shoulder.

“One does not traverse the Lifestream unscathed,” Thancred answered. “Even as a passenger.”

“Any pain?”

How to explain it? In the end, he simply said: “Not especially; eye strain headaches, hence keeping it covered most of the time. Nothing I can’t manage.”

“You try to manage much by yourself.”

He chuckled wryly at that. “But honestly, it’s mostly an inconvenience, I promise you.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” she replied.

“I don’t doubt that you shall.”

They faded off into sleep again, and this time there were no nightmares. Tomorrow they would dig themselves out and return to Ishgard, job done, and not speak of the details. Tonight, however, was friendly warmth and comfort while the storm raged outside.

[romanarose]

You Are Not Alone

fem!Reader x The Moon Boys

Summary: After a halfhearted attempt, you check yourself into the hospital for a stay in the psychiatric unit, and as always, your boys are there to help you.

WARNINGS: Suicide attempt (not shown), self-harm (not shown just talked about), blood mentions, depression, bulimia, eating disorders, food mentions and eating is shown, some self-ableist language from Marc and reader (marc calling himself crazy, reader saying she didn't 'do' and eating disorder right). neither of these are correct, but sometimes mentally ill (including myself) have these thoughts. Marc is kinda anti-treatment. not like, completely but he's hesitant, got trauma from the duat. shitty medical professionals, so much fucking crying, sex jokes, dark humor, mentions of rough sex/ass eating in joking context. If I missed anything lmk.

a/n: In my head Marc is a secret Star Wars nerd and I only have one single piece of evidence for this, but it's my Marc Spector and he and I are the same so I'll make him however I want to

*******************

“Hey baby” Marc gently nudged you as you slept on his lap. “They got a room for you.”

You stir, forgetting for a moment where you were. The white room, bright lights and exam bed confused you until you remember. God, what time was it? How long had you been out? You remember falling asleep on Marc’s shoulder as the ER room you were in tried to find you a bed to stay in on your mandatory hold. You look up at Marc’s tired, sad face, and knew he must’ve moved you, staying up while you slept on him, and you felt the pang of guilt you had been feeling in different forms all month. Of course he was tired, dumbass, you woke him up at 1 am halfway through an half-hearted attempt at suicide.

The panic on his face was seared into the back of your head, as were his frantic rambling of ‘fuck, fuck, fuck’ ‘Show me everywhereyou hurt yourself’ and ‘Baby, why?’ That he didn’t really give you a chance to answer. You simply stood there crying as he took care of you, wrapping you up in a few bandages, a few more than probably necessarily, telling him you were sorry, over and over and over until Jake took Marc’s panicking body to hold you, steady you. Steven insisted on the hospital stay. They had all noticed you spiraling lately, and had tried to help; picking up your slack on the cleaning and cooking, dragging you outside to get air, showering you in affection, but it didn’t help, as much as you were grateful. Steven packed a bag as you silently continued crying as you laid on the bed. Your favorite squishmellow, lots of fuzzy socks since your feet get cold, baby Yoda pj bottoms (with the drawstring taken out), and Carrie by Stephan King, which he did not look at but was the first book he grabbed. 

They had taken you into the ER, helping you filling out the paper worker and telling you how proud they were of you for coming to them for help, Steven a bit more frantic and rambling, and Marc quieter than usual but you couldn’t stop feeling bad. Were you just being dramatic? Over reacting? You had barely done anything, you could’ve just wrapped yourself up and stuck to long sleeves for a while. You thought about the first time you tried. Highschool, in the bathtub, listening to a P!nk album on the CD player. It didn’t work. You had just sat there, waiting… waiting… waiting… and it didn’t work. You hadn’t done enough. But by that point, you were just exhausted, too exhausted to make a second go of things. So you cleaned up, and walked out into the living room like nothing happened, and watched Community with your mom and brother. You had felt rather stupid then, as you did now. 

“Baby?” Marc started, as you didn’t reply to him. “Are you…” he almost said ‘are you okay?’ but considering where you were, the answer was pretty obvious. 

You get up, looking at the EMT’s, then back at Marc confused.

He clarified for you. “They have to take you in the ambulance, it’s just procedure”

“Oh… can you come with me?”

He looked at the EMT’s and got his answer brushing your messy hair down. “‘fraid not, honey. But we’ll be in first thing visiting hours okay?”

You are suddenly very nervous, very tired, and very overwhelmed. You want to be asleep in your own bed, with Marc holding you. “Marc” You mumble, turning into him. “I wanna go home”

You hear Jake’s calm, assured voice. “I know, bebita. But I think this is what you need right now. We’ll get you the help you need, you just need to rest for a bit, okay? We’ll call your work, take care of everything.” He sounded to sure, you trusted your Jake.

You nod, too tired to fight it “Okay”

Marc held your hand as you sat on the stretcher, feeling ridiculous, but you had convinced them you didn’t need to be restrained, thank god. When you got to the ambulance, one got in the drivers seat and the other took a few steps back to allow you a moment. Marc held your head, his beautiful brown eyes shining at you as he tried to smile and hold back tears. “It’s gonna be alright. Do whatever they need you to do here, and you’ll be out in a few days, a brand new start, okay”

“You’re gonna visit me, right?”

Marc looked a little broken when he heard that. “Baby, of course we’re gonna visit, we’d never leave you alone like this, ever”

“It’s just… when I went in college… no one visited me, the whole time…”

He cradled you close to his chest, the EMT motioning they needed to get going. “That was before. You have us now, and you’ll never be alone.”

But riding in the ambulance, checking into the bright hospital, having the sympathetic nurse checking you for weapons or other injuries… you hadn’t felt so alone in a long time.

Marc was not thrilled about Steven insisting on the hospital. He had never liked hospitals much, and after his time in the duat, the thoughts he had of psychiatric hospitals weren’t great. Steven had to tell him again and again, the duat was not in a real psych ward, real psych wards aren’t like that. ‘Frankly mate, I’m not entirely sure psych ward is politically correct anymore’. Marc insisted they were all you needed, he didn’t want to leave you alone, and he certainly didn’t think these people knew better about taking care of you than he did, and he told you as such when he visited.

“Places like this are meant for people a lot worse off than you.” He grumbled, holding you on the bed you in a room you thankfully got alone. 

Idiota, that’s not what you’re suppuosed to say!

Marc, please, places like this can help a lot of people, at least allow her to try.

“I’m sorry” You mumble, still tired from the previous night, where they had woken you up to take a blood sample and you had fallen back asleep with the needle in your arm. You start crying again, something you had done on and off all day. 

Marc quickly realized his mistake, holding you tighter and turning you to him. “No, no baby I don’t mean it like that, it’s not a bother, it’s just… these places are for crazy people, like me”

Your eyes widen at that, face drastically changing to serious. “Marc, stop that, you know I don’t like you talking about yourself like that” You may be a mess, but you will not stand for your precious boyfriend to call himself names. “You are not crazy”

Marc wouldn’t let up. “If they heard me talking to Jake and Steven, they’d throw me in a straight jacket and toss me on that empty bed” He smiled, trying to joke.

“No” You shake your head. “Don’t talk like that, I mean it. Other people might think that, but that’s because they don’t get it. I know you, and I know Jake and Steven, and none of you are crazy, so please stop saying that.” You pleaded with him.

His face softened, kissing you on the forehead. “I’m sorry, I’ll stop.”

You nuzzle into his chest. “And straitjacket, Marc? What is this, American Horror Story: Asylum? I don’t think they use those anymore” But you’re smiling now.

“Of course, how silly of me.” He laid with you for a while, just to take you in. He missed you.

“It’s probably a good thing I’m here” You say quietly, and he looks at you again. “I’ve been thinking about doing it all day.”

When it was Steven’s turn, your favorite nurse printed out some free Star Wars coloring pages for you and Steven to color on. 

“I feel like a child” You say, but you're secretly enjoying yourself.

“Healing your inner child, that’s what they say, innit?” Steven was very very carefully drawing Luke Skywalker on Dagobah. 

“I don’t think it’s my inner child that needs healing, I think it’s my inner teen. I had a fun childhood, even if it was a bit crazy. I never really got to be a teen”

“Well love, if you want to be a crazy teenager, we can go drink vodka in a corn field if that will make you happy”

You laugh, remembering the stories your classmates would beguile you with on Monday mornings, wishing that was you. “Sounds good darling. I’ll call my friend next time we visit, she’ll be happy to let us live out my teenage dream on her farm.”

“Think she’ll let us have a quickie in her tractor?” Steven smiles cheekily at you.

“Steven!” You giggle, wondering if anyone heard you. “And the answer is gonna be no.” you lean to him over the table “but we don’t have to tell her”

Steven holds up his drawing "I'm making it for Marc, think he'll like it?"

You giggle, holding up yours "Oh my god baby, im making mine for Marc too!"

Jake laid on the bed with you, reading Carrie, she was just going batshit on the prom night. “Dios mio princessa” He checked the cover “This is what Steven packed you to read? You’re supposed to be relaxing.”

“Keep going!”

“I’ll bring you a new book tomorrow, something more appropriate” he grumbled, before finding the page again.

“Honey, most of my books are depressing YA John Green books, Steven King, or depressing adult books, none of them are fitting”

“The Handmaid’s Tale?”

“Literally about government sanctioned sex slaves”

“Count of Monte Christo?”

“Baby that books depressing as hell”

“The Fault in Our Stars?”

“Jake!” You laugh. “How can you even say that, I made you watch that movie with me!”

Jake rolled his eyes. “You know I feel asleep half way through”

“He dies in the end!”

“Can’t you just… read up until that part?”

You rest your head on Jake’s chest. “No, now read to me about the mass murder of a bunch of high schoolers to relax me”

You felt Jake chuckle, but he continued.

Due to covid regulations, visiting hours were shorter than usual, and they had to leave before diner time. “We’ll be back tomorrow, I promise. Same time.” Marc swore.

“And you’ll call tonight?”

“Of course. Make sure to call the numbers we gave you, if you’re feeling up to it.” Marc had been put in charge of letting your mom, brother, Layla, and a few close friends know. Everyone, unfortunately, lived in different parts of the county, but they wanted to talk during your stay so he wrote down the phone numbers if you wanted to call.

“Thank you, baby“ But you stayed wrapped around his chest. You couldn’t help but feel you were disappointing him still by being in here. 

“Love, we have to go, you call us any time you want to talk, okay?” Steven assured you.

Slowly, you pull off of them. “Okay.”

You get a phone from the nurse and call him as soon as the door closes. An The Office marathon was on ABC, so Jake turned the channel on the home TV to ABC. You didn’t talk, simply laying the phone beside you as you watched, knowing they were there “watching” with you.

“I think my psychiatrist thinks I’m lazy” You say the next day as Marc rubs your back.

He pauses, looking at you, concerned. “What do you mean?”

“Baaaabbbeeeee don’t stop that”

Marc couldn’t help chuckle, continuing his back rub. “Okay, now continue”

“Well, the first morning here, it was like 9 when he woke me up and he said ‘you’re still asleep’ all judgy”

Frown deepening, Marc fought the urge to march up to the desk and cause a scene like a helicopter parent. “You got in there at, what, 4 am?”

You nod. “And he did it again this morning. I just said ‘Oh, I’m sorry, do I have somewhere to be?’”

Despite his annoyance with your psych, he laughed. “Good one, sweetheart”

You smile “not my best work. I’ll come up with something better in a few days and call back”

“I’ll help you brainstorm” Marc promised.

“We’ll get him good. Jake and Steven can help”

“Oooohhhh no. Jake’s version of help is murder, and Steven would emotionally devastate him so bad he’d never recover”

You laugh, and it feels good… You wait for a moment before speaking. “I’m diebetic”

He stops at that, and you whine, but it doesn’t work this time. He looks at you with worry. “What? Baby, sit up, please?”

You comply, sitting up to look at him, and you can help but feel like you messed up again. “I’m sorry”

“No” Marc moved in on the bed, taking you in for a comforting hug. “You didn’t do anything wrong”

“But I did” You start to cry, and jesus christ how much are you going to cry in these three days. “I got it because I eat too much-”

“No” Jake cuts in before you can finish. “You do not eat too much. Please, don’t go down this road, we just got you to a healthy place with food, please don’t undo all your progress”

You had put in a lot of work into recovering from your eating disorder, and you could tell they were worried this would make you spiral.

Still, you argue. “If I was better at having an eating disorder, I wouldn’t have this problem.”

Jake looked horrified. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It mean I ate too fucking much Jake, if I had more control, I wouldn’t have!” You scoot away from him, annoyed at yourself. “Did I have an eating disroder or did I just eat too much?”

“Amor, bulimia is an eating disorder” He spoke carefully, but you were too angry at yourself to let him in.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a child!”

“Then stop acting like one!”

A pregnant silence hangs in the air before you speak. “Get out.”

“No” Jake was firm.

“Go! I know you’re all mad at me anyway so just leave me here!”

His face softened, and you felt sick at his pity. “Mi vida… you think we’re mad at you?”

“Yes!” You all-but sob out.

Steven broke through. “Heavens, love, why would you ever think such a thing?”

“Because I woke you up and you guys need your sleep and I scared the shit out of Marc and now you have to deal with me and now you have to deal with a diabetic girlfriend and-”

Steven interrupted you with a hug that nearly knocked you over. He let you cry in his arms until you calmed down. “My darling, you scared all of us, but we’d rather be woken up every night than for you to have to deal with this alone, we swear. You aren’t a burdon, you aren’t a problem. I’m no doctor, I don’t know if your bulimia had an effect on your diabeties, but if it did, then that is a symptom of an illness you suffered for years.”

“My psych… he told me to lose 20 pounds and then sent me on my way…”

I’m going to fucking kill him

“Tell Jake he can’t kill him”

God dammit

“Darling” Steven pulled back to look at you. “It was not okay that he said that. He is a psychiatrist, not a dietitian or a nutritionist, and he is not your doctor. He shouldn’t say those things, especially given your history with eating disorders.”

“You don’t… you don’t think I need to lose weight?”

“No.” Marc said firmly. “We don’t. Let’s get you set up with a specialist and see what you need to do to manage this, but we’re not letting you fall back into bulimia if we can help it”

“Okay.” You flop back on the bed, becoming him to massage you again. ”I’m gonna have so many fucking appointments. A permanant psych” you glance up at Marc “One who isn’t that guy, and a therapist”

“That’s good, you’re getting the help you need.” Marc affirms.

You wait for a moment. “I thought… I thought you were against all this…” 

Marc flops down on the bed beside you “Listen, I’m sorry if I was… unenthusatic. It’s hard for me to accept help, and sometimes I think I can just… if I love you enough and am there enough, I can fix everything”

Yo touch his pretty, stubbled face, you can tell he didn’t sleep much last night either. “You’re enough for me, enough for my love. My mind just needs a little extra help.”

“I just gotta… look at it different. The meds, the therapy, it’s not the enemy”

“It’s a sidekick” You smile at him.

He laughed. “Yeah, they can be or sidekick”

“I love you guys”

“And we love you”

You squeal, jumping into Jake’s arms as he came to pick you up the next day. “Jakey!!!”

He grinned at you, scooping you up. “Hola, muneca, como estas?”

“Bien!” You kiss him as he sets you down. “Y tu?”

“Bien, ahora que estoy contigo. Now, do you have everything?”

You open your backpack to double check. “Discharge papers, safety plan, prescription, appointments, doctors notes for work, grippy socks I get to keep, yup all here!”

Jake smiled, you seemed to be doing better. “And you finished the book?”

After the Carrie fiasco, Jake stopped by Barnes and Noble and picked up a copy of Jurassic Park for you too read.

“Yes! Can we watch Jurassic Park when we get home?”

Jake knew this would happen. You’d want to watch Jurassic Park. Again. You always made him put it on when you were drunk. On the plus side, Dr. Alan Grant would inevitably make you insanely horny. 

“Of course we can. AFTER, we safety proof the apartment”

You groan, loudly. “We don’t actually have to do all that”

“We most definitely do.” Marc had been there with your social worker, promised to de-suicide the apartment, as you called it. No one thought you were funny. “No ropes-”

“How will you tie me up?”

“No razors-”

“How will I shave my asshole for you?”

“No belts-”

“But what will you whip me with”

“No- Cielos! I never whipped you!”

“Not for my lack of trying” You wink.

“Hostia, what am I going to do with you?”

You take his hand as you walk, Jake carrying your backpack. “Fuck me right and make me food”

“And drive you to therapy” He teases you, giving your hand a squeeze.

You nudge him “I was born to sit pretty in the passenger seat”

Jake gave you a tender kiss on the forehead. “And sit pretty you do”

You wave to your favorite nurse. “Bye, see you next time!”

The nurse was not thrilled.

Marc kissed rought your hand to his mouth, kissing the knuckles. “There’s my girl” Your hands were dry. You must not have gotten any lotion. You giggle, swinging his hand while you walked. “Are you feeling better, sweetheart?”

You turn to look at him, smiling softly. “I am, actually. Not perfect, but I think the break is what I needed.”

“How are the new meds?”

You shrug “Probably won't be able to tell for a while, on the anti-depressants. The anti-anxiety is great, haven't felt this relaxed in ages.”

“What was the other one?”

“Mood stabilizer. We’ll have to see on that one too.”

“Hm.” Marc opened the door for you, before letting Jake take over, since Marc hated driving.

You sit one the couch, eating your Taco Bell and drinking your McDonalds iced coffee. God you missed iced coffee. Jake grumbled the whole time at Taco Bell. He must really love you if he said the words “One mexican pizza, one crunch wrap supreme, and a baja blast, please” without dry heaving, and paid for it too. 

“Missed one” You point at a belt thrown in the corner of the studio apartment, taking a massive bite of your mexican pizza.

“This would be a lot easier if you put your clothes away” Marc said, with no real malice.

You take a big ole sip of your iced coffee. “This would be a lot easier if you didn’t undress me and bend me over every surface of the apartment”

“How can you wash down fake mexican food with iced coffee? That’s disgusting”

“How can you eat my ass, that’s disgusting”

Marc paused, holding the belt he was gathering. He turned to you with a rare, wide grin on his mouth, lips curled up a bit. “God I’ve missed you”

You talk with your mouth full. “I’ve been gone three days”

“No… I mean…” He looked a little sad. “You’ve been here but not… here. God that doesn’t make sense.” Steven took over, better with words. “You were different. Like you had mentally checked out, were just going through the motions. We were really worried about you, darling.”

You put down your Mexican pizza, fighting the urge to take another giant bite but knowing this isn’t the time.

“I’m sorry”

Steven set down the items, and joined you on the couch. He was going to take your hand, but you were double fisting a baja blast and iced coffee. “Don’t be sorry. We’re not going to make you promise to come to us if you are feeling down, I know it can be hard just… just know we’d rather be woken up before you hurt yourself, okay? We’re always here for you. You aren't alone anymore.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder. “I know baby, I’ll try.”

Steven rested his head on yours and closed his eyes, taking in a peaceful, quiet moment for you. 

Well, quiet until he heard the loud slurp of you finishing your pop.

***************

A/N: I was hositalized summer of 2020. It was voluntary, and I didn't attempt yet. It had been a hard time as it was for everyone, im not special. I moved out of my grandparents basement and a week later lost both jobs to covid. My friend had already suggested I make a go bag (she had been hospitalized before). I got into a fight with my sister over BLM and her shit ass boyfriend, and that was the last straw. For various reasons, no one visited me in the hospital. My parents lived in another state (not that my dad would come anyway) my aunt who lived in town thought that visits were closed due to covid, and my grandparents in town absolutely could not leave the house since this was prevaccine. I texted my aunt to please let my mom know where i was going as I drove over there. she emmidetly called me and said she was on her way, and helped me check in. She picked me up when I got out and had me stay with her family for a few days to keep an extra eye out.

My uncle and little cousins all were so nice and sweet sharing their space, mom came and visited, as did my other aunt (my dad, interestingly, did not). At the psych ward i called a childhood bestie whose number i have memorized, and when i got out, another friend called me as soon as she heard. Had a lot of love an d support many don't have. but none of that is going to take away how lonely I felt in the psych ward. So i just wanted to write something to redue that expiernce.

Also, all the stuff the psych said to the reader in this, my psych said to me. yeah, just told me to lose 20 pounds and acted like i was wierd for sleepin in past 9. i deadass did ask him if i had somewhere to be. like wtf.

anyway, self indulgent as always. Hope you enjoy anyway.

taggging the usuals.

@howaboutcastiel @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @welcometostayingawake @in-between-the-cafes @lucianadraven32 @ninebluehearts @ahookedheroespureheart @jake-g-lockley

[angelfrommontgomery]

Being in ur 20s is torture. I never go out I go out too much why wasn’t I invited I don’t know what I’ll eat for dinner I always forget to make ice should an oil change really cost that much I’m the cleanest woman alive the dishes can wait until the morning I love my life I’m too tired to talk when my dad calls me I sleep too much I never get enough sleep I’m right where god wants me did I make a huge mistake will I remember this year when it’s over yay my favorite pajamas are out of the dryer I can’t believe a guy I used to be friends with two summers ago is dead it’s almost spring I heard the birds chirping yesterday it’s dark when I go home I put my wool gloves away for the year is there any chocolate left in this apartment i remember more from history class than I thought is my tap water safe to drink I have a presentation in two weeks the fog looks cool outside I keep waking up cold my bed is so comfy should I sleep on the couch tonight fuck I stubbed my toe my code doesn’t make any sense everybody at work is weirded out by me I could pack up and leave tomorrow and it’s them who’d be worse off I have to see this through do I have a normal amount of friends I’ll be a different person in a few years am I really a natural blonde still I should start lifting again doesnt burning a candle just waste my other air fresheners in the room I’m glad I matched my socks today when did I get so many thongs is there a run in my tights yet my lunch is going to be so tasty today ugh I pulled a muscle is my acne getting worse it doesn’t even matter I should get out for more walks how much yogurt is left in the fridge what time should I get up tomorrow

[autisticlancemcclain]

Young Love Murdered (That Is What This Must Be)

Keith/Lance (Voltron), Angst With A Happy Ending, Season 4-6 Fix-It, Break-Up and Make-Up, 4.8k Words

Summary: Keith leaves, and their relationship falls apart. Maybe, though, both of them want it back. 

--- --- ---

“Why are you packing a bag? Did Allura have a mission for you?”

Keith tenses, but doesn’t turn around. He continues stuffing clothes into a duffel. “Not exactly.”

Lance is tense, too. There’s an air in the room, something crackly. Something dangerous.

“…Okay, then. What are you picking for?”

Keith doesn’t answer, not for several moments. He grips a pair of socks in his hands, so tightly his knuckles go white. Lance swallows, but it’s hard. His throat is dry. His heart pounds in his ears.

“I’m leaving for the Blades,” Keith admits gruffly. “I talked to Kolivan. They have some missions for me.”

It feels like the room tilts around him, and Lance’s head spins.

“What?” he asks weakly.

Keith clears his throat. He tries to speak, can’t, and clears it again.

“I’m resigning.”

“You can’t fucking resign!”

The sharpness in Lance’s voice startles them both, and Keith whips around to face Lance fully.

“Yes, I am.”

“No the fuck you are not. You can’t just leave Voltron! You said so yourself when we started this thing!”

“I’m not just fucking ditching, Lance. There are five Lions, six paladins. That’s what you said, remember? I’m doing everyone a favour!”

Lance clenches his fists, if only to hide them shaking.

“You’re not doing everyone a favour, you’re doing yourself a favour. You’re a goddamn coward, Keith Kogane, and you’re running away.”

Keith inhales sharply, glaring at Lance. “I’m no fucking coward,” he spits.

“You are! You so are. You’re afraid of leading the team, you’re afraid of being in a family, you’re afraid of us, of me, because you’re a coward, a fucking coward —“

“Shut the fuck up! You don’t know what you’re talking about! You don’t know a goddamn thing!”

“Then fucking tell me what I don’t know, Keith, because all I’m seeing is you running away!”

Keith spins back towards his duffel bag, shoving a few more clothes into the bag before hefting it on his shoulder and turning to face the door.

“I’m not arguing with you. I’m resigning. I’ll talk to you when I land on the base.”

“No, you won’t.” Lance stands to the side of the door, fists clenched as tightly as Keith’s were earlier. His face is neutral, cold, except for his eyes. His eyes are wet and there are tear tracks dripping down his face, and his voice shakes and his shoulders shake but he stands as tall as ever. “Don’t call me if you walk out that door, Kogane. I won’t be waiting for you when you get back.”

Keith blinks at him, shocked. He can feel something sharp prick in his chest, something painful and destructive.

Lance won’t wait for him?

Suddenly he’s angry. Fuck Lance, and fuck his lack of support. He won’t wait for Keith? Fine.

“Fine,” Keith snarls, storming past him. “I don’t want you to wait, either.”

—

Keith hugs the team tightly as they wish him farewell, promising to call as often as he’s able.

Lance doesn’t come to say goodbye. Keith pretends it doesn’t bother him.

He waits until he’s in his pod, watching the Castle wormhole away, to break down.

—

Lance presses the nozzle on the can of shaving cream rapid-fire, hoping some will magically squeeze out. When none appears from the nether, he sighs, digging around in his cabinet for another can. He doesn’t need to shave too often, his hair doesn’t grow very fast, but he’s been neglecting it a bit and doesn’t want to go walk all around the castle to get a new can. There has to be some buried in here somewhere — aha!

He pulls out a bottle that was hiding behind a box of new toothpaste, triumphantly shaking it in the air. He squeezes a dollop onto his hands, and goes to rub it on his face —

His knees buckle, and he collapses to the floor so quickly he almost brains himself on the edge of the sink. The shaving cream smells so intensely of Keith that if Lance closes his eyes, he can pretend Keith is standing behind him, rubbing his prickly cheek on Lance’s because he knows it drives him insane.

He clutches the can until his knuckles turn white, and his vision goes blurry as his eyes fill with tears. He tries to breath through it, to swallow the lump in is throat. He hasn’t let himself cry since — since that day.

Keith left. He choose to leave. He wanted to leave. Why should Lance cry over him? Why should Lance miss him? Miss his hands, miss his smile, miss his heart, because that’s what Keith is, the very fucking heart beating in Lance’s chest —

The tears finally fall, and they don’t stop falling, and the smell of Keith is still so strong but he’s not fucking here, and Lance sobs until he throws up.

—

Keith stares blankly at the ceiling ahead of him, counting the seconds. It’s currently nearly four hours since he went to bed. He’s been entirely unable to sleep, even a little bit. He’s not used to the sleep schedule here, he’s hot, the sheets feel like fucking sandpaper, and worst of all no pillow clutched to his chest will never be a substitute for —

Yeah, he just misses Lance. He’s never slept as well as he has with Lance. He somehow has the softest sheets in the world, even though they were all given the same stuff when they first came to space. The two of them are also the perfect cuddling pair — Lance is always freezing, and Keith is always hot, so cuddling is always ideal.

Well, was. They were the perfect pair. Cuddling was always ideal.

They’re not anything anymore.

The thought doesn’t help Keith sleep.

—

The rest of the team does their best to stay in contact with Keith, but they don’t have much luck. Keith is sent on what seems to be dozens of missions a month, always in a different galaxy and seemingly without signal. They’re upset, but there’s nothing they can do.

Lance pretends he’s unaffected.

He is not.

In the middle of handing out supplies to refugees on one of the many planets Zarkon’s Empire has torn to shreds, Lance sees a flash of purple and black in the corner of his eye. He turns around so fast he feels like he might pull something, but he doesn’t care, because all he can see is a Blade that’s short for a Galra and their posture is defensive and their shoulders are broad and Lance forgets about his anger, about his hurt, and the only thought in his head is Keith, Keith, Keith —

“Keith!”

Before he knows it he’s sprinting for the Blade, calling Keith’s name over and over, desperation getting worse each time. He forgets that Keith doesn’t want anything to do with him, forgets that Keith left, that Keith doesn’t love him anymore —

“Keith! It’s me! It’s Lance!”

He stretches out a hand, because yes, maybe Keith’s still mad, hell, Lance is still mad, but they’ve fought before and they’ll fight again but they’ll be fighting together and that’s all that matters —

“Keith!”

He finally catches up to the Blade, curling an arm around their bicep, and he immediately knows something is wrong. The Blade deactivates their mask, and they’re not Keith. They’re not even humanoid. Lance feels his heart drop to his feet, feels the burn of tears that has been his constant companion for months make a reappearance.

“I — I’m sorry,” he stutters, “I mistook you for someone else. Sorry.” He runs off, not even back to the job he fucking needs to be doing, but his head hurts and his stomach hurts and his heart hurts and Keith is gone and he’s never coming back and —

Lance wants Keith to come back.

Lance needs Keith to come back.

—

Keith knows he shouldn’t, but he watches the Coalition Show live. He watches the whole team, proudly, but he pays special attention to Lance. Loverboy Lance, rather. He watches the team do their best to promote Voltron, even if they have to play characters they hate, but Lance seems to thrive. He captivates the crowd, laughing and shooting finger guns and having everyone watching swooning. He’s magnetizing, as he always is.

Keith hates it. He hates it so much. How is Lance fine? How is Lance just moving on, with no issues? Where is his heartbreak? Did Lance ever love Keith like Keith loved him? Or did he lose all his feelings when Keith walked out that door? Is that even possible?

Keith watches the paladins’ individual acts with a tight chest, angry and miserable. He can’t pay full attention, thinking over and over again about Lance and his smile and his complete lack of the same ache Keith feels every second of every day.

Lance’s individual act is last, leaving the audience on a high note. Keith should turn it off. He has no need to watch it. But he can’t, because it’s the closest he’s been to Lance in months, and Keith misses him just as fiercely as he did when he left.

Lance climbs up the ropes, back to the camera, the audience watching with bated breath. Then the music starts, and instead of the upbeat pop song Keith’s expecting, something slow plays — something sad.

Lance finally turns to face the camera and Keith gasps as he sees the raw pain in Lance’s dark eyes. Lance has never been good at keeping his eyes free of emotion, every feeling he’s having displayed clearly in the beautiful brown orbs, and today is no exception. His eyes are anguished, wet.

Lance dances to the song, and his misery is unmistakable. Every movement is wracked with pain and vulnerability, every curl and flip looks like he’s seconds away from letting himself drop to his death. Keith grips his holopad, heart pounding, terrified and strangely hopeful.

Lance is just as heartbroken as he is.

Maybe there’s a chance, for them. Maybe they haven’t reached their end.

Keith watches his show until the end, thinking hard. Maybe… maybe Lance is waiting for him. Maybe Lance wants to see him again. He pulls up his schedule, looking at all his upcoming missions. He has one big mission starting tomorrow, with someone named Krolia, to go scope out some old base. He’s got a fair bit of time off, after. Maybe he’ll go see the team.

Yeah. He’ll go with Krolia to the base, and then he’ll go talk to Lance.

Maybe they’ll fix things.

—

Keith doesn’t get to see Lance.

He doesn’t get to see anyone, actually. Not for years.

—

Lance has been neglecting his friends because of his mopefest, and he’s not having it. It’s been nearly half a year, since he’s been with Keith, and he still can’t sleep right. It’s ridiculous, is what it is. Being this heartbroken over some boy.

(Even if that boy was kind. Was brave. Was sweet, and smart, and thoughtful, and strong, and even if that boy what Keith, the love of his life —)

Lance needs to get his shit together.

He messages Hunk and Pidge, asking if they want to have a sleepover. They respond enthusiastically, agreeing to set up in Hunk’s room in an hour. Lance rushes through his skincare routine, because he knows he won’t have a chance to do the whole thing with his dorky best friends distracting him ever three seconds, and drags four blankets and two pillows over to Hunk’s room.

They set everything up in a nest on the floor, sitting in a cuddle pile together and talking and chatting and gossiping and generally having a good time. Lance almost forgets the constant ache of missing Keith.

Almost.

Eventually, though, Lance’s eyes begin to droop. It’s always been easier for him to sleep with someone else, so he can feel his exhaustion finally breaking as he snuggles up next to Hunk with Pidge leaning on his back. The last thing he hears are Pidge and Hunk dropping their voices to whispers.

He snaps awake and indeterminate amount of time later to the same two whispering voices dissolving into giggles.

“Wha’s funny?” he asks around a yawn, stretching out his arms. He’s still tired, he can’t have been out long.

“You were saying Keith’s name in your sleep,” Hunk teases.

“Yeah,” Pidge joins in, “I bet you guys have been talking nonstop. I bet you miss him so much. Your crush on him getting worse, huh, Loverboy?”

Lance freezes mid stretch.

They don’t know.

They can’t know, how much Lance misses Keith. Desperately. Painfully. Constantly.

“…Lance? You okay?”

Like clockwork, Lance feels the lump build in his throat, stubbornly sitting there even as he tries to swallow around it.

“I — I’m fine,” he assures, shooting them a weak smile. They don’t look convinced.

“Is there… something going on? Between you and Keith?”

Is there something going on between you and Keith?

Is there, Lance?

Is there?

Lance feels the lump get bigger, and the tears finally drop down his face. He recognizes the pain spreading through his chest, and he can’t break down in front of them.

“I have to go,” he chokes out, and rushes back to his room. He leaves his blankets and pillows, too panicked to care, and collapses on his bare mattress, the stuffed fabric muffling his sobs. He cries himself to sleep, again, and wakes up to his blankets carefully folded beside him and a pillow tucked under his head.

Pidge and Hunk walk on eggshells around him for weeks. Lance pretends not to notice.

—

The space whale is the worst place in the universe, Keith thinks. It’s a constant survival situation, he’s never safe, he’s fucking bored all the time, and worst of all he’s stuck with the woman who abandoned him when he was a baby.

Yeah. Not ideal.

He doesn’t know how to talk to Krolia. What the fuck is he supposed to stay? It’s bad enough that the damn whale projects scenes of Keith’s private life for Krolia to see, but what? Is he supposed to talk to her about it? Hash out their issues? Talk about Keith’s dad?

No. Keith’s not that desperate, yet. If he’s stuck on the stupid fucking whale much longer, he might be, but for now he fuels himself on rage and the reassurance that he’s gonna talk to Lance as soon as he gets off this piece of shit time dilation, or whatever.

Of course, it’s not like Keith ignores her. They need to rely on each other a little, after all. It would be stupid not to. But Keith ensures all their conversations are strictly business related, at least until she gives him a reason to treat her as anything other than a coworker.

“You wanna take first sleep?” Krolia offers. Maybe she’s trying to win his trust. It’s not working. Keith only accepts because he’s fucking tired, not because he’s accepting her olive branch.

He lies down on a grass-woven mat he made, curling his arms around his stomach and imagining he’s back on the Castle, in Lance’s bed, holding him close. It works well enough, knocking him out fairly quickly.

He dreams of Lance, as always. Of their time together, of the future they dreamed of.

“As soon as this stupid war is over, I’m gonna take you home, Keith. Straight to Varadero.”

“Yeah?” Keith asked, trailing his fingers down Lance’s face. Lance leaned into his touch, eyes closed in bliss.

“Yeah,” he sighed, “my family’s gonna love you. And then we’re gonna buy a little house, right on the beach, and spend every day with no stress and nothing but love.”

Keith smiled, eyes crinkling. “Tell me more.”

Lance turned his head to press a kiss to Keith’s palm, before snuggling closer and leaving his head on Keith’s chest. Right about his heart.

“Mm, okay. You’re gonna get that fixer upper bike you’ve always wanted, spend your mornings doing that. I’m gonna take up scrapbooking, maybe. Or gardening. Something pretty.”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah. Then we’ll spend the afternoons together, in the ocean.”

“Of course.”

“Mhm.” Lance’s breathing evened out, mumbling about their future right into dreamland.

“We’ll have that beach house, Lance,” Keith whispered into his hair, just before he nodded off himself. “I promise.”

Keith flinches as Lance’s cold hand brushes across the back of his neck, but his lips quirk up. Lance’s shitty circulation really never fails.

“Mph, s’too early, Lance,” he mumbles. “Come back to sleep.”

“Keith, it’s your turn on watch.”

Keith shoots up, tendrils of sleep falling away immediately at Krolia’s voice.

Right. He’s on the stupid fucking space whale. Not in bed with Lance.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

He gets comfortable as he can on the rocky ground of the cave floor, looking morosely out the entrance.

I hope you’re waiting anyways, Lance.

I miss you.

—

“Wait, you haven’t heard from Keith either?”

“Not as of yet,” Kolivan says carefully. “It is unusual for him, but not so unusual for the Blade he is currently working with. I have full confidence that we will hear an update from them shortly.”

Shiro nods, as if that is at all an acceptable answer. “Good. Let us know when you hear something. Now, for the —”

“That’s it?” Lance demands. Shiro turns towards him, eyebrows raised and disappointed, but Lance holds his gaze. “‘We’ll keep you updated’? You’re satisfied with that?”

Shiro narrows his eyes at Lance, obviously annoyed with the interruption. “Kolivan has given us the information he has, Lance. No need to start something.”

“Keith is apparently fucking missing! Missing! And you’re just gonna lie there and accept it? Keith tore the fucking universe apart looking for you, Shiro, and you suddenly don’t care? He could be dead! He’s your brother, and —”

“Oh, so now you decide to care?” Shiro asks coldly. Lance rears back as if slapped, and Shiro smirks at him.

“Yeah, don’t give me that. I was there when he said goodbye, Lance, and you sure weren’t. You’ve claimed to hate him from day one.”

“T — that’s not true, I —”

“Oh? ‘Rivalry’ doesn’t ring a bell? C’mon, Lance,” Shiro attempts to sound reassuring, but all Lance can hear is condescension. “You’ve got your second to shine in the conversation, it’s time to drop it. Keith will turn up when he wants to turn up. You know how he is.” Shiro turns back towards Kolivan, back to Lance. A clear dismissal.

Lance gapes at Shiro’s back. What the shit was that? Shiro’s changed since he came back, sure, but in no universe did Lance ever expect to see Shiro dismiss the possibility that his little brother could be dead.

Lance clenches his hands together, blinking rapidly to clear his eyes. Keith — Keith could be dead. And the last thing that Lance said to him was that he didn’t want him to come back.

All Lance wants if for Keith to come back.

—

The relief of finally being free of the fucking space whale is as overwhelming as it would have been two years ago.

Keith is different, now. He’s taller, for starters. Bigger. He has a dog, now, and a mom. A relationship with his mom, even. He’s had a lot of time to think, a lot of time to reflect, a lot of time to forgive himself and forgive others. A lot of time to grow and change.

One thing that has not changed, or even waned or lessened, is his love for Lance.

He knows, now, that he made a mistake. He wasn’t wrong, exactly — he needed to go. He needed to figure himself out. But he could have figured himself out and kept Lance, but he rushed, and he regrets it. He regrets how he left, the pain he knows he left with Lance. Now, he has to fix it. As he flies off the stupid whale, Kosmo and Krolia and Romelle and the fate of the Universe tucked safely in the pod with him, Keith thinks of Lance.

“Oh, hey, I think that’s the Neflexxer nebula,” Romelle comments, pointing out a swirling mass of turquoise and pink and spots of bright white stars. Keith gasps, almost doubling over.

“What the fuck are we doing, Lance?” Keith demanded, rough and annoyed. He had to look for his brother, and Lance was insisting on some frivolous joyride.

“You need to bond with Black,” Lance said matter-of-factly, voice tinny from Black’s speakers but no less firm. “You’re the only one of us who hasn’t spent any time with her. You’re wondering why you’re struggling so badly? It’s because y’all don’t talk.”

Keith glared through his window at Red, imagining he was glaring a hole right through to Lance’s stupid face. Why couldn’t he have gotten Hunk as a right hand, or something?

“Black and I are fine.”

“See, you speak, and it’s like all I hear is ‘Lance, please convince me I’m wrong’. It’s fun for me.”

“Can you just get to the fucking point so we can go back,” Keith snapped.

He couldn’t see it, but he knew that Lance rolled his eyes.

“Fine, fine. Jesus. See that nebula to your left?”

Keith glanced over, seeing a swirling and colourful nebula. A new one, by the looks of it.

“Yeah.”

“That’s Neflexxer. You know what it’s notorious for?”

“Get to the point, Lance.”

“Yeesh, okay. It’s got a lot of rock storms, asteroid belts. We’re gonna play a little game.”

Red twirled suddenly, facing the galaxy, looking ready to bolt.

“Think of it as a training exercise! And a way to get out your aggression! You’re gonna chase me and Red through the nebula, and if you catch us, well.” Keith could hear the grin in Lance’s voice, the competitive flair, and he found himself grinning a little, too. “If you catch me, you can do what you want with me. But you won’t.”

“I wouldn’t be so cocky, Cargo Pilot.”

“We’ll see, Dropout. See ya!”

Red fired off, a blur of red and silver in the dark backdrop of space.

“Hey!” Keith called, shooting after them.

Lance cackled, and the sound made Keith smirk.

“Oh, it’s on, you little fucker.”

“Come get me, Keith! Betcha can’t! In fact, Keith —”

“Keith!”

Keith startles out of his memories, only to see everyone looking at him in concern.

“Sorry. My bad. Let’s go.”

He pushes heavily on the thrusters, flying them as fast as they can go.

I’m coming, Lance.

Please still be waiting.

—

As much as Lance tends to enjoy himself at parties, or at least use them as a distraction, there’s nothing he wants less to be at this one, in the arms of some random stranger.

“You’re very beautiful,” compliments the stranger, who’s name Lance does not remember even slightly.

“Thank you,” Lance says tersely, pointedly avoiding eye contact. This feels wrong. Being in someone else’s arms, especially in a dance — Lance feels gross. It feels like a betrayal. Like cheating.

And that doesn’t make sense, because he doesn’t even know if Keith’s alive, let alone if Keith still wants him. Just the thought of what Lance said to him — Lance wouldn’t take himself back, either.

Regardless, Lance does his best to keep himself at arm’s distance, trying desperately to imagine that these stranger’s hands are rougher, covered in leather, touching him gently.

“You look bored,” Keith whispered.

“Of course I’m bored. This planet it boring.”

Keith snorted, turning it quickly into a cough lest they both get in shit.

“You know,” he said quietly after a moment, “I heard this planet has pretty good music, actually.”

“Not for us,” Lance whispered back. “They have some really expensive concerts open, I checked, but they’re all heavily gated. Most of them are happening right now, actually. We can’t go.”

“Huh.”

Keith turned back to the meeting, and Lance thought that was the end of the conversation. A half hour later, Keith stood abruptly, making a loud gasping noise.

“Oh, Lance, you’re feeling sick?” he asked, in a voice so clearly fake and practiced Lance would bash his head against the table if he didn’t want to laugh so hard.

“Oh, yes,” he said, playing along immediately. He pressed a hand to my stomach. “So sick. I need to leave immediately, I’m so sorry.”

The head of the meeting blinked worriedly at him, exchanging a look with the rest of the aliens. “You’re feeling unwell, Red Paladin?”

Lance nodded, doing his best to look pitiful. “Yes, terribly ill. So ill I might not be able to walk myself out of here. Very sudden.”

The head alien person pursed their lips, gesturing for the door. “Please, then, make haste for medical attention.”

“I’ll help him,” Keith announced, standing again and grabbing Lance gingerly by the shoulder. Lance bit back a giggle.

“Yes, much obliged, Black Paladin,” the alien agreed. “We shall continue when your paladin is at full health.”

Keith and Lance rushed out the door, barely holding in their laughter.

“You snake!” Lance teased, as Keith led him through a back path to a large, chain link fence. Keith leaned over, pressing a quick kiss to Lance’s cheek.

“My baby wants to go dancing,” he responded, eyes twinkling. “I can’t very well withhold such a humble request!”

Lance rolled his eyes fondly, and the two hopped the fence as quickly as they could, sprinting towards the sound of music. They stopped just outside the venue, music plenty loud enough to hear. Keith turned to Lance, bowing playfully.

“May I have this dance?”

Lance yanked him back up, laughing, and the two twirl around, silly and offbeat, to songs that are barely meant to be danced to. They spend hours spinning around, dipping each other to their hearts’ content, and all Lance could think was how much he never wanted Keith to let him go.

“…which is why I think you would be an excellent mate,” the stranger continues, and Lance blinks. He glances subtly at his watch, and yikes. He’s had his head in the clouds for a couple hours, now, ignoring whatever the hell this rando is spewing. Time to ditch before this guy really gets some ideas.

“I’ll have to regrettably decline,” Lance says lightly, gracefully twirling away, and booking it for the door as soon as he’s out of sight.

Please be alive, Keith. I can’t do this without you.

—

Keith’s landing on the castle is a mess. It’s rushed. There’s a crisis, they have a homicidal prince to stop, but when Keith and Lance make eye contact on the bridge, for the first time in either eight months or two years, it’s like time slows to a stop. Like the world narrows to the two of them, everything and everyone else dropping off of it.

Lance takes the first step forward, reaching out like he’s not in control of his own hand, to cup Keith’s face like he always does. Like he always did.

But he hesitates, millimetres in front of Keith’s cheek, like he’s not sure if he’s allowed. There’s fear in his eyes.

“Lance,” Keith breaths, and slumps forward. Lance hand finally touches his face, and he doesn’t hesitate, this time, before rubbing a gentle thumb over his cheekbone.

“Keith,” he whispers, just as reverent. Keith brings up his hand to Lance’s, just to hold. Just to touch.

They stare at each other for what feels like decades, hungry eyes drinking in the sight they’ve missed and missed like you might miss the air when you’re too deep under water.

“I missed you,” Lance says, voice so quiet it’s barely audible. “Every day. All day. I missed you, and I waited for you.” A tear slips down his face. “I never stopped.”

Keith huffs a quiet laugh, eyelashes wet and salty. “I missed you too. I — I never meant to leave, Lance. Not like that. I’m sorry, I just —”

Lance brings up his other hand, cupping Keith’s face wholly, now. He wipes his tears, gently, slowly.

“I shouldn’t’ve said what I said. I didn’t mean it. I don’t think you’re a coward. You’re the bravest man I’ve ever known, and I loved you for it. I still do.”

Keith leans down, pressing his forehead to Lance’s. He closes his eyes, feeling joy for the first time in days. Weeks. Months. Years.

“And you’re the most loyal. I love you too, Lance. I never stopped.”

Lance sobs, arms moving to wrap around Keith’s neck. He presses kiss after desperate kiss to Keith’s lip, muttering apologies and ‘I-love-yous’ between every peck. Keith does the same, arms tight around Lance waist, kissing back just as hard.

“We’ll try again, okay? Take two. No more running away.”

Lance nods quickly, breath hitching. “No more accusations. Take two. This one’ll be it, Keith. To the end. You and me.”

“You and me, Lance, always.”

[sob-sister]

Do you think jack still wants this as his career? Because I’m genuinely confused on whether he gives a shit at this point if this stays as his career. I saw a article headline saying how on some sites his tickets for this tour are as low as $5. 5 dollars? 5 dollars as in it costs the same to get a pack of socks as it does to go to a jack Harlow concert. And I looked out curiosity how much his show were actually sold and all of them are not only not sold out but most of them are still half full with unsold seats. That’s with him not promoting it or talking about it. I remember when I first discovered him and in some of his older interviews he would talk about how tough it was to do shows where there were like 10 people there and how there were as many people on stage as there were in the crowd. He prided himself on how he had to go through those shows and they were Character builders. And I’m just so confused he got so far in his career and now he’s almost going backwards. I can’t tell if he doesn’t care that this is the direction his career is going or if he just doesn’t care that this is his career at all.

that's a big question you got for me there friend. i don't know if i can give you answer, but i will try and as always others are welcome to add in their 2 cents. i feel like there is something going on, because a person who apparently wants this would not be doing the things he is. more on that later. i have seen this cheap ticket thing for a while now, so this isn't a last attempt at getting folks to come out. i guess that could be telling. however, i also do have to bring up the fact that this tour is local to his home town and not international, so that will make a difference and fans also did not feel comfortable attending his shows as some were located in sun down towns, which is totally understandable.

lack of promotion is one issue. i know he doesn't like doing press / promo in general, which makes no sense in regards to getting his work out further, but it especially doesn't make sense for him to not do promo for this tour, because it's his hometown and what, the "home town hero" can't sell out some stadiums? if i was him, i for sure would feel some type of way.

we obviously don't know what is going on behind the scenes with his team, but i kind of seems like they are not pushing him further. i understand with the nature of the industry all things can't revealed straight away and are months in the making, but it feels like lately we only get announcements when it comes to music and that's it. i will not be including the interviews, because one interview is all of them. on the other hand, he might just not be doing it for the industry folks and he's not getting booked like he used to. he was everywhere when "first class" was around, so …

i think he took criticism of chtkmy hard, and i am not sure why it was a decent album and sounds wise it was great. i think he just sees criticism as an attack instead of something to work on. i think his biggest problem when it comes to music is the lack of content and general repetition of themes. we get it money, women, you're rich, but it just sounds the same and it's getting boring and unrelatable. i think just repetition in itself is a theme for jack an not a good one. that's why i always say he needs to "get away" from his friends. it's clear that they are a security feature for him, but at what point does that security hinder you? when he's back home, all he does is hang out with his friends. is that getting him new writing material, when all you're doing is whole up in your crib playing games? no. he doesn't like leaving kentucky either. i think that being located in kentucky is affecting his career. i don't think anyone sees it as a music hot spot, despite what he may tell himself.

honestly, i don't know what he wants and that's for him to figure out. i guess he can start by listening to comments people make. a lot of us feel the same way in regards to improvements he could make and i feel like that is his untapped resource. your fans are literally telling you we want this, that and the other and i would so be taking advantage of that and delivering people what they want. i know it's the industry and you're not only trying to please the fans, but also the label, but i think there needs to be balance where he can do both.

thank you for stopping by.

[mirastark]

Overcoming Fears

Darth Vader x Reader

Chapter Eleven

-Hey guys, sorry for the wait lol, been swamped with school and stuff and a massive writers block on top of that. So anyway enjoy.

—————————————————————

Two days had passed, and you had finally received your assignments… or just when to be ready to leave for Hoth- It was a start. You and Perseus had planned to pack a weeks worth of uniforms into a very small duffel bag. No one knew how long you would be there- and really, neither did the Sith…

That Hoth Facility held the best Medics of the Galaxy. Besides the Tie Fighter accident, the Emperor had practically destroyed Lord Mira’s leg. Terra couldn’t help her, but they could.

Your boss decided to show up today, and made it his mission to aggravate you as much as he possibly could. You were tired almost all day. When you could finally leave you practically ran out of the office and to your room. Quickly showering and jumping into bed. It was hardly a few minutes before you were dead alseep. You knew you had to leave tomorrow and had to finish packing, but at this point you decided to figure it out later.

Only hours later you heard faint knocking from down the hall. Half asleep you listened to the knocking continue until the door opened. Relived the noise had been eliminated, you drifted back to sleep. Suddenly the door to your room slid open, the bright light of the hallway beamed into the room and onto your face. You groaned, rolling over towards the wall, attempting to hide from the light.

“Get up, we’re leaving.” A voice called demandingly from the doorway. You rolled back over, propping yourself up on your elbow, squinting towards the door at the figure leaning against it. “I said get up, and hurry.” Mira spoke as your eyes finally adjusted to the light. She was dressed more comfortably than normal. She had simple black robes instead of her chest plate. Only one of her sabers hung from her belt. Her cloak still hung over her arms, and white bandages wrapped tightly around her wounded leg.

“What’s going on?” You groaned, sliding out of bed.

“We are leaving for Hoth. There is a time difference and we are on a tight schedule. Lord Vader is already waiting on the ship.” She turned, pushing herself off the doorframe, “Get ready, I’m walking Perseus to the bay.” She took a step, her knee bending down to a kneel in response to the pain of her leg. She grasped the other side of the door frame, quickly pushing herself back up. “or maybe he’ll walk me-“ she mumbled unintelligibly, limping back down the hall.

You gathered the last of your things, stuffing them in your small bag. Mira arrived back to your room just when you had finished. She held onto the door frame just as always, keeping the pressure off of her leg. She had been using the force to walk to make sure she didn’t injure herself further.

“Okay,” you said, slinging your bag over your shoulder and turning back to the Sith, “I wouldn’t want to keep you and Lord Vader waiting, so I am ready.” She starred silently at you for a moment as a grin overtook her lips. “Wh- what is it?” You asked, confused at her expression.

“I don’t think the Generals on Hoth will think very highly of you wearing Pajamas as a new Uniform…” she laughed. You glanced down, remembering you had not changed into your uniform yet. Wow you were tired.

“Oh,” you chuckled, “right- I’ll uh, change then.”

She nodded, smiling again, as she turned back to the hallway, shutting the door through the force for you. Embarrassed, you quickly changed into a uniform from your bag. Ironically, it turned out to be the same blood stained uniform she had marked a few days earlier after the “Stormtrooper Explosion.” You stepped back out the door, turning back to the pad to lock it before you left. Mira leaned against the wall on the opposite side of the door, in between you and Perseus’.

“Boots, General.” She chuckled right before you could lock the door. You glanced down once again. Yep, still in socks. You dropped the bag at your side, sighing as you walked back inside, sliding on your boots next to the door. You were positive you had everything now, and if not, she would notice. You stepped back out the door, locking it behind you. The Sith stepped off the wall as you grabbed your bag, following her down the hall.

As you entered the docking bay, you could hear the low hum of the shuttle’s engine, echoed through the silent bay as it prepared to take off. Side by side, the two of you climbed the ramp. When you reached the top, she grabbed a handle next to a control panel. Perseus and Terra were already seated across from each other in the small cabin. You stepped to a seat, one away from Perseus, slinging your bag in the cargo slot overhead. Mira pressed a button on the pad, which pulled the ramp back up, locking it into place just as you sat down. She stepped back over the ramp, taking the place of the hole in the floor, sitting down in the Co-Pilot seat next to Vader.

“Alright, let’s go-“ Mira sighed, glancing up to Vader. After pressing a few buttons, and returning his hand to the control wheel, within moments you were in the atmosphere, flying at the speed of light.

The journey was quiet, besides the occasional low chatting of the Sith. Curious, and mainly bored, you decided to work up enough courage to listen to their conversation, the best you could of course. You did not wish to be caught, or sensed, no one eavesdropping on Sith would.

“The Emperor will be meeting us at the facility once we arrive.” You could hear Lord Vader announce, a few moments later.

“What!?” Lord Mira exclaimed, louder than her original tone, standing next to her seat, gazing down at Vader, hardly visible to you anymore.

“You are not supposed to put much pressure on your leg, sit down.”

“You don’t even have legs, don’t tell me to sit down.” Mira snapped. You forced your laugh back down, only letting a fairly loud exhale escape.

“Sit down,” He repeated, his voice, loud and stern, “or you may loose a leg.” She scoffed, slowly sitting back in her seat, her eyes still fixed to his mask.

“He is the reason this has happened, why is he still involving himself?” She motioned to her leg, and the beginning and end of the scar over her eye. Her voice was calmer now, and more controlled.

“Would you rather he finish what he began?” Vader questioned, “You were not the only one harmed for the General’s incompetence.”

‘Was that where the scars on his chest plate came from?’ You thought to yourself. ‘And the one across Mira’s eye?’

Vader and Mira’s conversation continued unintelligible to you anymore. Almost half an hour later the ship shifted as it existed hyperspace. The large, white planet appeared ahead of its course. Entering the atmosphere, the ship lowered into the hangar of the large facility.

Mira, followed by Lord Vader, entered the seating room that you, Perseus, and Terra were in just as the ship landed. The ramp extended into the snow as the hatch of the hanger closed overhead. The three of you gathered your things, quickly following the sith out and down the rows of awaiting snow troopers. Mira walked carefully on Vader’s right side. It was freezing. You hated it and assumed Mira did also as she was somehow limping quicker than Vader’s powerful strides. Most likely trying to hurry this interaction so she could get out of the cold.

Eventually they reached the Emperor and his red-armour guards. You, Perseus and Terra did your best to kept your distance as they spoke. Not being able to hear very much of their conversation so you couldn’t be accused of eavesdropping.

———————————————————

“Master” Mira bowed briefly along with Vader.

“Greetings, Lord Mira…” the emperor responded, practically ignoring Vader, “I hope your trip and extra individuals have not caused you any inconvenience.”

“They have not, Master.” Her voice was low, and her stance seemed uneasy. She was obviously uncomfortable and anxious.

“Good…” he replied, sensing her discomfort, yet choosing to ignore it. “Lord Vader, will you escort our Lord Mira inside..”

“Yes, Master.” Vader replied before swiftly guiding Mira around the Emperor’s guards and into the facility.

The older man stepped slightly forward, toward your misplaced group.

“General L/n… the reason we were summoned to this dreadful place.” he spoke. You had now concluded everyone here despised Hoth and the cold. He continued, sensing your confusion, “Your original strategies caused Lord Mira to loose a majority of her troops. She was then blamed by Lord Vader for your mistake…”

“I apologise my Lord, I am still unsure of what caused that.” You replied quickly. His tone along with his bright yellow eyes could intimidate anyone, especially you.

“Now is too late for apologise. Lord Vader has already informed you you will be learning from a General with less fatal mistakes than you have. We expect your skills, and those of your companions to improve on this visit.” The Emperor waved his hand to his guards as he spoke.

After bowing to the emperor, and excusing your group, the three of you hurried into the facility. As you all warmed yourself in the heat of the hallway, a mouse droid delivered Holopads to you all, which consisted of your assignments for the next few days.

Terra then left you and Perseus to go find the medical bay. As you two wandered the halls, passing numerous other generals and troopers along the way, you tried to act as if you knew where you were going. The holopad included a map of the facility which was very handy for you to use. Other officers and generals there had much different uniforms than you. Theirs was designed to keep its wearer warm in the frigid temperatures. While yours kept you cooler in the heat of Mustafar, which was the complete opposite of what you needed.

After quickly touring the facility, you and Perseus met Terra to find your rooms. Conveniently, the three were directly next to each other in the corner of the living quarters. The rooms were as large as a suite in a lodging cabin, much larger than your room on Mustafar. These consisted of a large bathroom, less cramped than the other, a bigger bed, and a small kitchen area in the far corner.

The three of you felt luxurious as you got ready for bed that night, and ready to tackle the day tomorrow.

[highwaytothedangerzone502]

Foxtrot Alpha Alpha - Chapter 9

Pairing: Hangman x Female OC

Word Count: 2212

Warnings: Discussion of violence, bad home life

Summary: Hangman learned his lesson a long time ago to never show his true feelings when someone's words or actions hurt him. To do so showed weakness that could be exploited, and Seresin men couldn't show weakness. Of course, there was an exception to every rule, and Jake's always came in the form of women, three in particular: his mom, Juliette Kazansky, and the girl whose name he could no longer bring himself to speak. She was the girl that got away; she was his biggest 'what if' and his biggest regret; she would forever be the ghost that haunted his dreams. Jake believed that's where she'd stay, for he would surely never see her again after what he did.

Or so he thought.

Notes: This is the sequel to India Lima Yankee; I'm using the same callsign for the Female OC as in Ghost Story because I just really like it, but they are different characters; chapters in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: I'm Only Me When I'm With You Life As We Know It

****

Hangman

He sat by the pond reading a book on fighter jets, trying to take his mind off the scrabble with his brother's best friend, Kyle, earlier. It'd left him sporting a black eye, although that'd actually come from Nick. The fight would've continued- and possibly have gotten much worse- had Michael Seresin not stepped in and broken it up. Of course, when Jake tried to explain what happened, it was his word versus Nick's. Michael believed the latter and grounded Jake for two weeks. This didn't stop Jake from sneaking out of his bedroom through his window, though. He had to get away from the stifling atmosphere and, more importantly, away from his brothers, mainly Nick.

"Jake?" Annalise's voice, which typically calmed Jake, sent his nerves spiking. He'd kept his unstable home life from her since he'd met her in June of that year. With Christmas this week, he wanted to maintain the cheerful ambiance. Thankfully, she approached from his good side, so he kept his focus on his book but smiled.

"Fancy meeting you here," he said, flipping to the next page. "What are you doing here?"

"Walking Kory," Annalise replied, scratching the head of her golden retriever. "What the hell are you doing out here? It's freezing."

"Wanted to get out of the house."

"And sitting in the frigid temperatures on the frozen ground to read your book was the best place you could come up with?" Annalise crouched next to him, and Jake realized he couldn't escape the situation without telling her the truth. Sighing, he turned his head to look at her. Her eyes immediately widened at the sight. "Who did that to you?"

"Nick. I caught his friend Kyle stealing money from my wallet and confronted him about it. When I tried to take it back, we started fighting. Nick joined in and socked me. Now I have this shiner," Jake explained, motioning at the injury. "My dad broke up the fight but believed Nick instead of me when we told him what happened. Got grounded for two weeks. I snuck out my window because I didn't want to be in the house."

"Those dicks!" Annalise exclaimed, fury alight in her eyes. 

"Yeah, well, that's my brother and my dad. I swear Dad hates me. Always takes my brothers' sides in everything, regardless of whether it's Nick or Matt."

"How come?"

Jake shrugged. "No idea. It's been like that for as long as I can remember. Why do you think I want to get out of this town so badly when we graduate?"

"I figured you're ready to get out in the real world like I am..." Annalise said, standing up. She offered her hand. "Come on. Let's head to my house and get you an ice pack."

"I don't want your parents to see me like this."

"Mom and Dad won't be home until tomorrow, and Jackie is at a friend's house tonight. They won't know," Annalise assured, wiggling her fingers to silently insist he join her. Jake relented, taking her hand and allowing her to help him stand. The pair strolled back to her house with Kory trotting happily between them. 

Upon entering the Blackwood household, Jake knelt down to pet Kory while Annalise grabbed an ice pack. She handed it to Jake and sat next to him. "I'm sorry," she said.

"For what?" Jake replied, placing the ice pack to his eye.

"For what happened with your family and for making you feel like you couldn't come to me about it."

"No, no, that's not- that's not why I didn't tell you. I know I could've told you; I just didn't want to. You can't do anything to stop it, and I didn't want to burden you."

"Nothing you tell me is ever a burden to me, Jake," Annalise assured, placing a hand on his knee. "Besides, burdens are too heavy for one to carry alone. You should have someone to come to about this."

The sincerity in her voice and in her words broke the dam of everything he'd held back from telling her. He told her about the fights between his parents, how his mom would end up in tears after each one, and how she would never leave Michael Seresin for the sake of her sons because she worried about losing the custody battle that would ensue from a divorce. Jake told Annalise how his mom was his only ally in the house and that Matt had slowly been getting nicer since he left for college, but Nick brought out the worst in him, and Matt would often slip back into his bullying habits when he returned home. Jake confessed that the first day he ran into Annalise, he'd gotten into an argument with his dad because he didn't want to join the family business, and Michael Seresin lost his damn mind over it. Jake admitted he'd thought about running away on numerous occasions and that the only thing keeping him here was his mom and-

"You," Jake finished. "Don't get me wrong, I've always had friends, but I've never felt as close to them as I do you. I get that that's cheesy, and maybe I'm saying this because I got a small concussion or something in the fight earlier, but... yeah. It sounds stupid coming out of my mouth now..."

"No, no, it's not stupid at all," Annalise said, shifting so she sat cross-legged. She dropped her gaze from his. "I've never really had close friends before. I used to when I was little, but we moved so often, and I hated how much it hurt when I left that I decided to avoid making friends entirely. I'd be friendly, sure, but not have friends. That way, I wouldn't be upset when I inevitably moved again. I tried not to get too close to you, and I even prepared myself for us to never speak again once school started-"

Jake frowned at the admission. "Why did you think we wouldn't speak after school started?"

"Because you were Mr. Popular, and I was invisible. Except for when I'm around you, I'm a ghost, whether I intend to be or not. But you proved me wrong, and I'm really glad you did. You're the only close friend I've ever had. So... thank you."

"I'm not sure if I should be honored that I'm the only person you've allowed to be a close friend or if I should be insulted that you thought I'd stop talking to you because of my popularity," Jake joked lightly, although the latter did, in fact, concern him.

"No, it wasn't because of your- it was just that you were a somebody, and I was a nobody. I thought: why would you want anything to do with me once you were with all your friends back at school?"

Jake chuckled. "I never told you this, but my friends weren't busy the entire summer, you know. They were the first day I met you but after that? They invited me to all kinds of things, and I skipped hanging out with them to be with you."

Annalise stared at him in bewilderment. "Why would you do that?"

"Because I liked being around you more than I did them."

She shook her head, still apparently unable to believe his words. "But why? All I do is play guitar and talk fighter jets."

"And nearly decapitate me with said guitar."

"That was one time!"

"Which I will never let you live down," Jake replied, shooting her a cheeky grin. She swatted playfully at his arm in return. "In all seriousness, I love that you found your interests and what you want to do already. You have a path to follow, a future that you have all planned out. I had no idea what I wanted until you came along. You helped me realize that I want to be a part of something bigger than myself. I want to do something no one in my family has done before and make a name for myself."

"I get it, but I also know you, Jake. Part of you choosing the Navy is because you also want to fly badass jets, don't you?"

"I really want to fly badass jets," Jake whined. "Can you imagine being up in an F-18 flying at almost Mach 2? Or an F-35?"

Annalise pursed her lips. "Will you hate me if I say yes?"

Jake narrowed his eyes at her. "Say 'yes' to what?"

"That I can imagine? Because I've been up in one?"

His mouth dropped slightly open, stunned at the response and insanely jealous. Deciding he had to give her hell for it, he declared, "We can't be friends anymore. Nope. We're done!"

"It was my birthday present this year... I asked for it again for Christmas. Don't know if it's going to happen, but if it's any consolation-" a bashfulness seemingly overcame Annalise- "I, uh, I might've asked my parents if we could swing having you go up with me too. As your Christmas present from me."

Jake blinked, processing her words. "... But- but all I got you was a new guitar-"

"You did?" Annalise perked up instantly.

"Yeah, but that doesn't even come close to going up in a fighter jet! My present game is weak compared to yours!"

"Are you kidding? Guitars aren't cheap, Jake! The fact that you got me one is amazing!"

Jake scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, but-"

"No 'buts.' The guitar is perfect. I can't wait to see it!"

"Might have to wait until after Christmas since I'm grounded..."

"Speaking of which-" Annalise checked the time- "how long before your dad finds out you're not home?"

"He probably won't notice I'm gone until dinner, so I have a couple more hours."

"Do you want to risk getting in more trouble by not being home?"

"What's another week of being grounded? Besides, you're worth it," Jake said, unsure of where his sentimentality and borderline flirtatious remarks stemmed from. "Want to watch a movie?"

"Uh, only if you want to watch The Notebook because that's the only option you're getting."

"I need to see what the big deal is about the movie anyway, so why not?"

"It's romantic, and it has Ryan Gosling."

"What's with the letters thing?" Jake asked as he followed Annalise into the living room. They sat on the couch while she pulled out the movie and put it into the DVD player.

"You'll have to wait and find out, but it's super sweet," Annalise said with a wistful smile. She then added, "If a guy ever did that for me, I might marry him on the spot."

"Noted."

"What? You planning on marrying me or something?"

"No, I'm just making sure no other guy finds out your weakness and exploits it."

"Please, my one true love is fighter jets, so no need to worry about that." Annalise patted his shoulder, and he ignored the twinge of pain in his heart at her words. While she most likely meant it as a joke, the thought he might never have a chance with her hurt more than he cared to admit. Of course, it was probably for the better. What did he have to offer her? Now or in the future? Annalise came from a strong, stable family. She had goals and had the means to reach them. Jake was the polar opposite. Sure, he had the same goals as Annalise, but if his dad caught wind that his son wanted to join the Navy, his head might actually explode from fury. Besides, Jake's home life was anything but stable. Why would a girl like Annalise ever date him? She wouldn't, and he doubted her parents would let her either, so Jake decided being her best friend would be the only thing he'd ever be to her, and that was okay. As long as he had her in his life, that's all that mattered. Annalise had swiftly turned into his rock, his anchor, and he feared what he might become without her to keep him grounded. Jake could do nothing to risk losing her.

"Hey, Annie?"

"Annie?" she echoed, giving him a curious look. "That's new."

Jake cocked his head, confused himself. "Sorry. I didn't- I don't know where that came from. I won't call you that again."

"No... it's fine."

"But no one else calls you Annie?"

"I know," Annalise responded, smiling shyly at him. "I'm only allowing you."

"Why?"

"Because you're you." Jake couldn't help but smile cheekily, prompting Annalise to add, "Don't let that give you a big head. Otherwise, you'll lose the privilege."

"Understood."

"So, what were you trying to tell me before I interrupted you?"

"I just wanted to thank you for earlier and for letting me escape that hellhole for a bit."

"I've got your back, Jake. You made the mistake of getting close to me, so now you're stuck with me. You know that, right?"

Jake raised an eyebrow at her. "Forever?"

"And always."

"Sounds good to me." Jake slung his arm around her shoulders, and Annalise rested her head on his shoulders. They settled in to watch the movie, both finding comfort in each other's presence.

****

Tags: @lgg5989 @shanimallina87 @polikszena @summ3rlotus @icemansgirl1999 @supernaturaldawning @thedarkinmansfield @lyannaforpresident @lapilark @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth @simpofthecentury @shadeops21 @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @double-j @bradshawsandbridgetons @catsandgeekyandnerd @peachiicherries @multifandomcnova @fandomsstolemylife00 @bookloverhorses @mak-32 @midnightmagpiemama @luckyladycreator2 @ellamae021 @genius2050

Chapters: Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8 Chp 9

If you're not on the tag list and want to be, just let me know :)

[imfluentinfangirlandgay]

Surprise Adoption - Ch 7

Ingo held the crying Dawn in his arms, considering his options. He decided right then and there. She would stay with him and Emmet for the time being.

Word Count: ~1200

if someone drew emmet and ingos outfits from this chap i think id actually die of laughter because they look so stupid i love them

Emmet was the first awake this time, bouncing on his heels like a child on the first morning of a family vacation. He poked Ingo and Dawn awake, his grin reaching his ears. “Get up, we must not be late!” he said flatly as he hopped into the bedroom to change his clothes. The other two groaned as they sat up from the nest in the front room, rubbing sleep from their eyes. 

“Where are we going today?” Dawn asked sleepily. “He sure seems excited about it.” 

“It will be a surprise. I am sure you will enjoy it as well.” Ingo stood up and lifted her to her feet, retreating to their shared room as well to find some clothing. Emmet was whirling around the room, grabbing some cargo shorts and a random t-shirt and this and that. “You appear excited, Emmet.” Ingo raised an eyebrow at his brother mirthfully. 

“This will be the first time you have gone since your reappearance!” Emmet grinned. “They have added new things. I believe you will enjoy yourself. I am Emmet. I do not like heights. If she wants to go on-”

Ingo covered Emmet’s mouth with his hand. “Emmet! It is a surprise, remember?” 

“She is not in the cabin currently!” 

“She can still hear, though. She is preparing. We will depart shortly.”

They quickly dressed, Ingo managing to convince Emmet to wear something slightly more appropriate for the weather (including a fanny pack and a polo shirt) as he himself put on some denim shorts and a collared shirt that he tucked in slightly. He also grabbed some sunglasses for himself and Emmet. He ducked into the bathroom to brush his teeth and comb his hair before he emerged finally into the kitchen. Dawn was preparing some toast and eggs as Emmet was pulling on his socks and shoes, grinning still. Galvantula and a couple Joltik were stationed nearby. 

“Emmet-”

“Ingo, I am wearing them like this and you cannot stop me.” Emmet finished pulling his long socks up his thighs, the stark white contrasting with the black shoes he wore. He also had a waist pack on the table, which he was filling with things. Sunscreen, Poffins, his wallet, his Xtrans, and other things they may need for the day trip. Ingo toed on the black shoes he had. 

“Uncle Emmet, why are you wearing those socks?” “Me and Ingo burn verrry easily. I like to cover my calves.” 

“Then why the fanny pack?” she asked, trying not to laugh.

“It is convenient! I do not have to hold it.” 

“Elesa would throw a fit if she saw you right now,” Ingo said merrily as he sat down with a mug of coffee. “I thought she got rid of all of those types of shorts.” 

“Nnope! She did not! I hid some. They are comfy.” 

They ate breakfast quickly, the trio stashing away their Pokemon into their balls and bringing them along for the day. 

They took the Subway there. Some of the Depot Agents had to hold back their laughter when they saw what the twins were wearing, but they managed. Dawn, however, did not. She said that they really rocked the ‘dad look’. What that meant, Ingo had no clue. 

Emmet led them off the train, swinging his arms as they approached the destination. He grinned widely as he swept his arms wide and announced, “Welcome, passengers, to Poke-Fun Park!” They entered the gates and Dawn looked around, her eyes wide. Roller coasters looped around the park, the Rendez-Vous prominent and in the center. Other rides were whirling and moving, creating a rumble in the background. Sometimes screams of joy permeated the area. 

“This is what that meant last night?” Dawn asked, stunned.

Emmet nodded enthusiastically. “This,” he demonstrated the clawing hand motion again, “is Unovan sign for ‘amusement park’. Me and Ingo have been coming since we were verrry tiny.” 

“I’ve never been to a real theme park before,” Dawn breathed. Her smile was widening. “I don’t even know what half these rides do.”

“We have the entire day to simply try them out, Akari,” Ingo said excitedly. He hadn’t felt this type of giddiness in years. “Emmet here is-”

“-not a huge fan of all of them!” he cut in, glaring at Ingo. “So you can ride them with Ingo. If they are too high. Which many of them are.” 

“You’re afraid of heights, aren’t you?” Dawn asked, a small grin on her lips. 

Emmet glanced away. “No. I just do not like being up that high. Nope. Not good.” 

“He’s afraid of heights,” Ingo said loudly. Emmet smacked Ingo on the shoulder and frowned at him. 

“You said you wouldn’t tell anyone,” he whined. 

“I did not tell her, she figured it out herself. Now come on, you big Budew, let us find some rides.” 

—-----------

Ingo opened the door, motioning for Dawn to enter first. She did so, wearing a pair of plush Emolga ears on her head and smiling tiredly. She clutched a plush Minccino to her chest. Emmet entered next, holding a bag by his side and wearing matching ears to her. He also carried a comically large Joltik plush. Dawn flopped onto the couch with her plush as Ingo entered last and locked the door, wearing a ball cap with similar Emolga ears and a few more bags. Of course, he had been the designated Mudsdale for all their items. He set the bags on the ground and shooed away the Joltik coming to investigate. 

Emmet sat on the ground and immediately held the Joltik plush to his face, nuzzling it. “Look, babies, I got you a new cuddly! What should I call it?” Some of the Joltik swarmed to him and examined the plush. It was longer than his torso. 

Ingo sat on the couch last, taking off his shoes and resting his aching feet. Today was lots of fun. Even after Emmet had almost hurled on the Rendez-vous because he wanted to prove he wasn’t scared of heights, they had managed to have fun with it. Dawn had definitely had the time of her life and seemed to have a huge appreciation for roller coasters now. Ingo wondered if it reminded her of riding Lord Braviary back in Hisui. 

The twins prepped things for bedtime. Dawn got changed into her pajamas as the brothers fluffed up the nest and put away all their souvenirs and other purchases. Emmet caught Ingo sneaking some of the cotton candy and had to wrestle it from him so that Ingo could properly sleep tonight. 

They cuddled up together with their partner Pokemon, a big huddle on the ground. Dawn yawned widely and snuggled in between the brothers. She was very sleepy. “Thanks for the fun day today, guys,” she murmured. Ingo kissed her  forehead softly as Emmet grinned. 

“Of course, Dawn. We had fun as well.”

“I love you guys,” she murmured as she fell asleep, a smell grin on her face as she began to snore lightly. 

Both of the brothers stiffened momentarily, looking at each other with sparkling eyes. Emmet’s smile was blinding. They both slung an arm over the sleeping girl between them, rumbling in unison, “We love you, too.” 

[Start] - [Previous] - [Next]

[innocentlymacabre]

Anna, Version One

tw: suicide mention (not acted on), alcohol, OD mention (not acted on)

Before we begin, I should make it clear that this story takes place in the early 1960s, when aeroplane rules were a lot laxer. One could brandish a cigar, or holster a pistol, or even brandish a cigar while holstering a pistol. Now, consider if you will, the thoughts of one James Augustus McCoy, as he goes airborne in a helm of metal, held together by nothing more than nuts and bolts, and is rocketed to well over twenty thousand feet in the sky, at speeds faster than any other passenger vehicle can even attempt. His nightmare treads the razor edge between the possibility that it’s merely James’ psyche feeling especially cruel, or that what he thinks he sees hanging off the edge of the plane is real.

ONE

“Okay men, we have a problem,” Jerry Cramer began, addressing the room of three carefully selected candidates: Phil Digby, Luke Kendrick, and James McCoy. “The Swiss are backing out of the deal. Staying neutral as ever, those tricky bastards.”

“Of course they are,” Digby chimed in. James had never particularly liked him. Kind of a kiss-ass and didn’t do his job particularly well. Digby didn’t know it, but the only reason he was on this little team was because they needed a fall guy if everything went belly-up.

“Goes against who they are or some other crap probably,” Kendrick barked through a cigarette. “Knew it was risky to go into business with them.” James didn’t fall for his gangster façade, but he liked the man. He did his job and was bloody good at it.

“Be that as it may,” Cramer said, regaining control of the room, “we’ve got to get this sorted out. James, I need you on the next flight to Switzerland. Talk to Meyer, get this sorted.”

“Fuck, you got me flying again? Kendrick. Kendrick will go, he’ll get it done. He knows the deal basically as well as I do. I am not getting on a plane again. I went when we started this thing. My flying is done.”

“Said it yourself, James – you started it, we need you to finish it. “Basically as well” isn’t the same as as well. Nothing’s going to happen to you. Just get there.”

“Fuck me,” James sighed. “I’m flying first class and not paying for anything. The company’s paying for the entire trip.”

“Done,” Cramer said looking satisfied with himself.

“Can’t believe I’ve got to go back. Damn Swiss need to learn how to finally pick a side.”

“Hey, hey, it won’t be that bad. Just get on the plane and try to go to sleep. You can’t be scared if you’re not awake,” Anna suggested.

“I don’t know.”

“Look, it’s not as if you’ve got much of a choice anyway. Best to just get it done and over with.”

James snorted but ultimately resigned to his fate.

“Good man. Call me when you land. And hey, remember to pack socks – you always forget to take them and end up with one pair for the entire trip.”

“Oh, good one. Thanks, honey,” James said, breaking away from selecting a shirt to reach for his sock drawer.

“Oh, and take a few cigars from the bar – the good ones – for your meeting. You don’t want to show up to one of these things empty handed. They’ll chew you up and send you packing.”

James nodded, not stopping to question his wife’s advice for a moment. He wasn’t sure what knowledge she drew on when she gave him advice, but she was never wrong. She was also a lot more confident and open than most other women. She spoke her mind and she spoke frankly and didn’t give a damn about who knew. It was one of the best things about her and was what made James fall in love with her all those years ago.

He made a mental note to grab the cigars on his way out and headed into the bathroom to pack his toothbrush. He very well could have used the one in the hotel, but James preferred his own. He took it out of the cabinet and placed it in a small pouch, then cleared the rest of the cabinet out and took a step back. James took a deep breath, then quietly locked the door before turning back to face the cabinet once again.

Another deep breath later, he reached forward and carefully scaled the back of the cabinet, feeling for the loose part of the wood where the back gave away to reveal a small, secret compartment. This was the one thing in his life that Anna didn’t know about. They shared everything else with each other, but this compartment was only his. And it had to be. If Anna knew what he kept in there, all she would do is worry.

James wiped the unconscious sweat starting to form on his temple, then reached for the 9mm. He checked to make sure the safety was on and that it wasn’t loaded, then placed it at the bottom of the pouch along with its clip. He replaced the false back and quickly restocked the cabinet, then sat down on the toilet seat.

He didn’t know why he carried it every time he flew. Maybe it was because he wanted to go out on his own terms. If the plane was going down, he was damned if he was going to let the fire get him – he’d shoot himself and that would be the end of it. But then again, Anna always liked to point out that things are often more complicated than they seem; maybe there was some other reason he took it with him. Either way, the 9mm was James’ constant companion throughout his aerial adventures.

TWO

James walked out onto the tarmac, dragging a suitcase behind him. Donning a bespoke black suit, he did his best to give off his signature don’t-fuck-with-me look, but a million alarms were going off inside his head. He gingerly ascended the steps, pausing at the top and leaned against the frame, taking deep breathes to calm himself down.

An old man in line behind him tapped him on the shoulder, “Scared of flying?”

“Yep.”

“Me too. But my daughter’s getting married, so,” the man replied with a shrug.

“Congratulations,” came James’ warbled reply.

“Don’t worry, take your time. I get it.”

James gave the old man a smile from over his shoulder by way of reply. He took a few more deep breathes to steady himself, then entered the plane. He clambered over to his seat, helpfully in the front, and began furiously strapping himself in, tightening the seat belt as far as it would go. He clung nervously to both armrests, staring out of the window at the men loading the luggage into the cargo hold below.

He wondered what would happen to the poor soul who accidentally wound up stranded in the hold, perhaps adjusting a bag at the back or correcting the fastening on one he noticed on his way out, the others oblivious to his absence. The hold door would shut and he would scream and shout, trying to alert the others to the situation, but no one would hear him over the roar of the plane engines. Then the plane would take off and he would hold on to some strap, some bag, something, for a while, but his arms would eventually grow tired and he would succumb to his fate. He would be tossed around from side to side, smashing into the cargo as he went. When the plane finally lands, they’d find him dead in a pool of his own blood, his body and bones shattered beyond hope of creating even a semblance of the man before.

James shook his head clear; he mustn't think of such things. Especially when there was so much else that could much more easily go wrong. The plane could lose connection with ground control, their frequency could be hijacked, turbulence might toss them abou-

No!

He stopped his thoughts midway once again, turning his attention to the other passengers filing in. James had a habit of making short mental notes of the people he was going to be around for any extended period; it made him feel more secure.

Naturally, first class was mostly solitary Swiss and Britons, most likely travelling for work. James could make out a banker by the way he was reading the business section of the newspaper and a lawyer who was working on the contents of a manilla file labelled HARVEY SAWYER VS KURT WAGNER. Other than that, it was anyone’s guess. There was one couple, but thankfully no child. James absolutely detested crying infants, and more so on planes. Their accents sounded like they were Polish. Oh, Poland – a tragedy if there ever was one. Bet no one saw that coming.

James caught himself drifting to death once again and decided there was nothing more he could do. He drained the small plastic bottle from the seat pocket in front of him and pulled his nightcap down. If things were going to go wrong, he'd rather go in his sleep, instead of having to face the danger head-on. With that in mind, he popped another one of Anna’s sleeping pills in, hoping he wouldn't hit the OD limit, and swallowed it dry.

Ten minutes later he wasn't feeling any sleepier, so he resigned to his fate and reached for the Daily Mirror dutifully placed in front of him. He glanced fleetingly at the date — Thursday, February 16th, 1961 — as if to confirm that he really was having to suffer through this nightmare and read the front page.

Bad move.

The top story read "Eight Hours to Live" and was about the United States ice-skating team. Their plane crashed and exploded, killing all seventy-two passengers and crew. James's stomach tightened at the same time as the rest of his muscles loosened, almost as if they were giving up.

They were just kids, none of them more than twenty years old. Their entire lives ahead of them. But they had been snatched up by the brethren of the very thing he now entrusted his life to.

When his body finally reverted to normal, James got up to go to the bathroom, thinking a cold splash of water would help him. He picked out a small kit from his bag in the overhead compartment and made his way down the aisle.

He walked slowly, each step taken deliberately after due forethought. He was quivering with fright, with half his body poised to jump right back into his seat at a moment’s notice the entire time.

James stood by the sink and gripped the edges with both hands, staring directly at his reflection. His eyes, while usually brown, were now a disorienting shade of red. The shock sent him back a few stumbled paces, knocking him into the toilet. He steadied himself with an outreached arm, leaning on the counter, once again staring at the red-eyed lookalike in front of him. James could see the veins popping out of his forehead, crossing over and under each other, throbbing dangerously hard, feeling like they were about to rip themselves out of his body. He shuddered, suddenly feeling very cold, and wrapped his arms around his body tightly, trying to drown out the noise of the cabin and focus on his own breathing.

He doused his face with water and looked up again. His face seemed back to normal. No more red eyes. He took slow, deep breaths as he stood in the small, closet-like cabin in a contraption held together by nuts and bolts at a lethally scary height, desperately trying to forget the fact.

He opened his kit and pushed the toothbrush to the side, his hand curling around the 9mm. He sat on the toilet and stared at its pure black body gleaming in the drowsy yellow light of the cubicle. It would be so easy to just pull down on the little piece of metal and end this misery. He’d never have to fly again, never have to endure this twisted form of torture again. He quickly shook his head clear of these thoughts though and put it back.

He had performed this routine every time he'd flown, never once going beyond just looking at the gun. Sometimes he wondered why he simply didn't leave it at home if he was never going to use it. For reasons he didn't really know himself though, he always kept it back in.

He had actually made it all the way to the taxi without it once, and as he sat in the car, James breathed a sigh of relief, thinking his fear had finally been washed away. But the moment he could no longer see his house in the rear-view mirror, he told the driver to turn back around and had dashed in to grab it.

The moment James returned to his seat, the seat belt sign lit up, and the captain's voice came crackling through the PA system.

"Passengers, this is your captain speaking. We seem to be experiencing some mild turbulence. Nothing to be afraid of, but I'm going to have to ask you all to return to your seats and strap in, nevertheless.” Then, after a beep, “Cabin crew, please take your positions."

"Nothing to be afraid of..." James muttered under his breath. He'd decide that for himself, thank you very much. And he decided there was something to be afraid of and tightened the seat belt until it was pressing into his stomach, set his seat upright, and pulled up the window shade. His head lolled to the side as he stared unseeingly out of the window, his mind wandering all over the place. The pills seemed to finally be working and James did nothing to stop it — he needed to at least mentally get out of there.

The flash from a jolt of lightning snapped him back to the present. He jerked his head towards the window and froze almost instantly. There was a man hanging onto the wing, clinging for his life.

He swayed up and down and side to side, slamming into the wing over and over again. The man feverishly clawed his way forward, as if he saw the tiny window as some form of solace. His mouth opened and closed repeatedly but James couldn't make out any of the words he was saying.

James frantically called the air hostess over.

"Man... wing... lightning... window."

He had trouble forming full sentences, producing only fragments accompanied by frenzied arm movements. When the air hostess finally came to his side, the only thing there was to see outside the window were a few clouds, lazily drifting along the night sky. The steward looked at him with a mixture of concern and confusion and asked if James wanted anything.

"A gin and tonic,” he decided. “Four parts gin." If drugs didn't cut it, alcohol would have to.

Lightning flashed outside again, and the figure had re-appeared. Only this time it wasn't the same person. He took a closer look at the figure in peril and paled when he realised who he was.

"Anna..."

No. No, it couldn't be. Not his Anna. James inched closer to the window, hoping, praying, pleading it wasn't her. Oh, but it was.

No. No, it wasn't. It was just a figment of his imagination. He wouldn't call for help again. He watched helplessly as she was tossed around like the man before her; he watched with desperation as she too tried to make her way forward. But the winds were not as merciful as last time. They did not allow her to make her way to the window as her predecessor had. James was even ready to break it himself and tug her in. But no. The winds picked her up, bashed her against the body of the plane, and sent her downwards, barrelling towards the ground to grant her a fate much like that of the lost cargo man.

Desperately, James called for the air hostess again but didn't even try to offer an explanation this time. He just sat there, curled up in his seat, clinging to his sides. The air hostess — Claudia, her name was — draped a blanket over him and brought him a warm cup of tea, telling him it would help with the nerves.

Needless to say, it didn't, but James fell asleep soon after that, his body finally buckling under the stress it had been handling.

Just under an hour later, Claudia gently woke James up from his pool of sweat and told him they were preparing for landing. He had made it, but felt like some part of him had died up there anyway.

THREE

He checked in at the reception and asked for his bag to be sent up to his room. He told the receptionist he was expecting someone by the name of Leon Meyer and to send him to the rooftop restaurant when he came, then headed there himself. James had been to loads of these meetings-that-weren’t-really-meetings, but he never failed to enjoy one. He never really had a taste for boring board room meetings with drab presentations and subpar food. As soon as James hit the big leagues, he went exclusively to these ones at lavish restaurants with expensive champaign and caviar and clever segues into business deals.

“No clever segues this time,” he corrected himself. This meeting was purely about getting the Swiss back on board as soon as they could.

The lift dinged and opened right onto the restaurant, greeting James with the overwhelming scents of sausages, meatballs, pastas, and beers. It was a purposely small place, designed to look and feel ultra-exclusive, only five tables across. James was shown to the one he had reserved from back home, then began taking in his surroundings, repeating his exercise of making mental notes of who he was sharing a room with.

He decided to start at the far end of the restaurant and work his way towards himself, then beyond. At the very end, overlooking the city below, sat a man that looked like he belonged in a Roald Dahl book. A rather heavyset man, he was stirring a cup of tea with his left hand and riffling through a paper set on the table with the other. He boasted a thick moustache and gave his left hand the occasional break to twirl its end. James watched him for about five minutes but didn't once see him take a sip of the tea.

At the table next to him, sat a man of quite the opposite build. He was tall and wiry, as if the wind may carry him away at a moment's notice. He had a large pitcher next to him, but regarded it with a certain air of suspicion, as if he didn't trust the waiter that brought it to him. Instead, he focused his attention on the fish in front of him. James scowled at the appalling pairing.

The next table was him. He had arrived a bit earlier than their meeting time, but Meyer was now ten minutes late and he didn't particularly like his lack of professionalism. He noted that with some bitterness, then continued with his observations.

Next to him sat a couple on their honeymoon by the looks of it. James guessed either rich parents or incredible luck, or perhaps some combination of the two. They ate out of each other’s plates and settled in an eternal embrace that they didn't seem to be coming out of any time soon.

Finally, with a view of the other end of the city, sat two men thoroughly engrossed in their conversation. They spoke in hushed tones and had barely touched the food in front of them; by the looks of it, weren't planning on at all.

James had just made this last observation when Leon Meyer finally walked in. Dressed in a crisp blue suit, he walked quickly, maintaining his air of bravado nonetheless. James saw him and waved him over.

"Sorry I'm late, James. There was a mess at the office I had to deal with."

James had long learned the art of fake politesse and called upon it once more. "No problem, Leon." Then, reaching into the inner pocket of his coat, "Gave these a little more time to mature," he said, placing a wooden cigar box engraved with his initials on the table.

Meyer gave James a look of appreciation and eagerly took one, chopping the end off with the cutter also from the box, and produced a lighter from his pocket for the two of them.

"Look, Leon," James began. "I respect you and your company enough to skip the usual formalities and just get right to it. What's the problem with the deal? We drafted it after weeks of meetings and made it beneficial to both companies. Yours actually stands to benefit more than ours." Most of what he said wasn't true, but James saw no harm in slipping the little details in. Anything to tip the scales.

"James, I like you. I do. But the boss changed his mind. Here," he said, opening his briefcase and pulling out a file. "We've drafted another deal." He pushed the folder across the table.

James took it and pulled a pen out from his coat, ready to amend the document. They went back and forth for a while, each cancelling out the other's changes until they reached a mutually agreeable middle ground.

The technical term for what conspired would be “price fixing”, but James preferred to think of it as simply allowing British products complete freedom in the British market. They celebrated their new agreement with expensive champaign and admittedly fantastic lobster.

“Thank god the company's paying for everything,” James thought.

Thanks for reading! You can read the full story for as little as $0.86! Why not a full dollar? Because my sense of humour is in need of serious medical attention and I think this would be funny.

This is my first pay-what-you-want project and I really, truly hope it goes well! With the holiday season upon us, it would make a great (print-ready) gift too. Thanks for all your support :)

taglist (ask to be added/removed!): @caspersgraveyard @zephsthings @mujhe-rone-do @shikayatein

[wolfiemcwolferson]

Reflections on Grief

When I was 13, my mom went through my email (something she learned about in her Women’s Bible Study group) and she found my emails with my “girlfriend”. I only use quotes here because we lived one hour away, saw each other a total of three times in public and neither of us identify as girl’s at this stage in our lives.

But, overnight I became her greatest fear. The devil. Someone who would ruin her other children and so it was determined that I would go away. 

She called my aunt, but determined that California was too dangerous for me when I had already strayed so far from God.

She found out about one of those camps - the ones in the mountains where we hike daily and live outside and have to earn our freedom or whatever and the only thing that kept me from being put on a plane was my grandparents refusal to give my parents the money for this.

So, I went to live with them instead.

I won’t bore you with what happened from there, but I found a love and acceptance with my grandparents that allowed me to become the person I am today because they taught me what love and devotion and kindness are.

Today, I sit in my house on a Wednesday night in March and I eat ice cream from a coffee mug.

Because when I lived with my grandparents, they went to play dominos with a group of friends on Wednesday nights and I got 20 dollars to order myself a pizza and then I watched a movie and ate ice cream out of a coffee mug.

And sometimes it is not enough to hold them in my mind. 

Sometimes I go and dig a tin of pipe tobacco from my sock drawer and open it up on my coffee table because it smells like love.

Sometimes I go to the store and I buy a jigsaw puzzle that I’ll never finish just to lay it across the table for two days because it was our rainy day activity.

Sometimes I hold a mug of hot tea between my hands and I remember how my grandmother looked me in the face at 14 while we sat on her back porch and told me that it didn’t matter who I was or what I did or where I went, she would love me until I was nothing more than a memory to the world. How she was the first person who ever said that to me. 

Because sometimes.

Sometimes, the grief bowls me over so suddenly that I’m clutching my kitchen sink and thinking about how I wasn’t there when my grandfather died. How he called out for my grandmother in the end and how I had to watch it through FaceTime.

Sometimes I write a series of words that are so starkly my grandmother that I have to close my laptop and sit down and think about the last conversation we had before she was unconscious - about how I wanted her to die at home.

Because I was selfish and thinking about how I wanted to stand in the kitchen in 20 years and make the rice pudding she taught me to make and I could tell myself that she was peaceful in the end - and at home. 

Sometimes I hear an Elvis song and I think about the bake sale she helped me with when she and I stayed up until 4 AM baking and singing and my grandfather drove 30 minutes in one direction to get us hamburgers at 1 AM because we were hungry.

And it doesn’t feel like enough to eat the ice cream or smell the pipe tobacco or play Elvis in the house when I bake or carry the name that i took from my grandfather.

But then I look across the living room to my own children who have been told from the time they took their first breath that I will be the one going to war for them and that nothing they ever do will make me love them less and I know that my grandmother’s words are living through me.

I get up at 4 AM to pack my partner a warm muffin for work and I think about the countless mornings my grandpa brought me a cup of coffee from the gas station because I like crappy burnt coffee with that overly sweet syrup that comes from that machine.

I cry sometimes when it starts to ache right under my ribs and I know that the best bits of me are the bits of them and that nothing i do will ever be completely devoid of their spirits, yet I still mourn.

Grief is an all-encompassing thing and it comes and goes at the strangest times and I am desperate for others to not feel alone in their grief.

Anyway, I say all of this because I started writing a silly little fic recently that was meant to scratch a fandom itch and it’s gotten away from me in a massive way and I am still writing it, I’m just taking it slow.

I’m being respectful of my grief and the desire to do right by the story and the characters and also to all of you who will someday read it and understand and feel what I’m saying through my words.

[alpaca-clouds]

Fluffcember Day 15: You (Don't) Choose Family

Today's prompt was Wool Socks.

Fandom: The Owl House

Characters: Amity, Hunter, Edric, Emira, Alador, Darius

Genre: Fluff and Humor

Length: 983

[Ao3 Link]

The logic of the world was still not quite clear to Amity. How had Emperor Belos trying to kill all the witches ended her in this situation.

“Just take an extra pair of socks,” her father beckoned. “It's cold out at the Knee.”

“Dad.” She groaned, her fingers at the bridge of her nose. “I've been out at the knee before. You remember. With Ed and Em?”

Her father blinked, looking at her with an empty expression. He did not remember. Of course, he didn't. But until everything had gone down, he had barely ever noticed anything going on outside of his laboratory, did he?

Now Darius walked through the living room, too. “Ah, don't worry, Alador. The kids will be fine!”

This prompted her father to mirror her expression, fingers at the bridge of the nose. “The kids will get themselves in trouble. I am telling you. The next thing we'll know…”

Darius came over to him, putting a hand onto his shoulder. “Relax, Alador. The kids will be just fine.”

“We will be out there for only two days. I mean, come on, dad. I can fight for myself.” And she would make sure that this time nobody would accidently wake any wild beasts while they were out there. No, this was just a little excursion. Just her, Luz, Gus, Willow – and Hunter of course. Speaking of which. “Where's Hunter?”

“Still packing,” Darius replied with a shrug.

Amity groaned. One should think one additional brother would not make that much of a difference, but somehow it did. While Hunter had the appearance of a teen maybe a year or two older than her, he was still like a child in many regards. Leaving her dad – and whatever Darius was meant to become – alone, she stormed off to Hunter's room, only to find her worst fears confirmed.

Hunter was sitting there on a bag way too big for a two day trip surrounded by the twins, who were now leaning onto him, brabbling along.

“See, Hunter,” Emira said, “if you want to win the heart of a lady, the best way to access it is through her stomach! So what you want to do…”

Edric interrupted her. “Quite literally, actually. So if you try to go and open up her mouth.”

“Ugh. El. Now you're getting disgusting.”

Edric laughed. “I am just saying. There is more than one way to win a heart.” He cast another illusion, summoning a beating heart into his hand.

Even Emira chuckled at this. “What I was saying, Hunter. You need to woo her. Somehow. Like, just bring her some nice food. Or maybe, I don't know… That girl, Willow, she likes flowers, right?”

Amity cleared her throat. “Hunter, we wanted to leave now, didn't we?”

He stared at her, his eyes wide with desperation. “Uhm. Err. Yes. Leaving. We wanted to…” He tried to hoist up his bag – and failed.

Seeing his desperation Amity went over to him. She cast a simple spell as well, changing the bag into a much smaller one. “You won't need all that stuff. Trust me.”

“Are you sure? I mean, what if something happens and we end up…”

“Don't worry.” She put a hand onto his shoulder and smiled.

There was still glee on her sister's expression. “Don't forget what I was telling you! To win her heart…”

Amity turned around to her. “He'll figure that out on his own.”

 A little sigh escaped Hunter, as they made their way down the stairs. She was not even sure what to say to him. After all everything was quite new for him, wasn't it? So she just put one hand onto his shoulder. “I know Em and Ed can be a lot, but you'll get used to this.”

His smile was faint, but still there. “I guess I will.”

“Are you sure you don't want to pack an extra pair of socks? I had the abominations make two pairs just for you!” Her father got out two pairs dripping with abomination goo, just as they were crossing the living room.

She stopped herself from sighing as well, thankful for Darius' hand on her father's shoulders.

In a way she got it. Her father was trying to make up for the time he had been mostly an absentee dad. But still… This was a bit much. She went over to him, taking his hand with a smile. “Really, dad. We will be fine. We will just go out there, have a nice evening around the fireplace, enjoy nature and sleep in tents.” She would share a tent with Luz! “Nothing major is going to happen.” She gave him an encouraging smile. “Or how big do you think the chance for another egomaniacal maniac trying to destroy the world just showing up months after the last one is?”

Her father frowned. “Well, I do not quite know the exact formular, but with probabilities there is always the thing that even one beneath 1% is never quite zero. So…”

“I think she was being hyperbolic, Alador,” Darius muttered.

“I was,” Amity replied and smiled at her father. “Really, dad. Nothing is gonna happen. You just... relax and build some new abomination or something. And we will be back by tomorrow evening, alright?”

A deep and tired sigh came over her father's lips. “Yes. Yes. Alright. I am sorry, Amity. I am just…” Now he put both hands onto her shoulders. “Take care, will you?” He looked over to Hunter. “Both of you.”

Even now Hunter did clearly feel awkward about their little family. “Sure,” he muttered.

Now she allowed herself to break apart from her dad, picked up her own back and turned towards the door. “You take care as well.”

“We will.”

With that Ghost turned into her staff, allowing for her and Hunter to sit on it. Before they both took off.

[pbandjesse]

I feel a little out of sorts. A little frustrated. I am trying not to fall into anger but it's hard. It's mostly about tomorrow. But at least most of today was really nice.

I woke up after an alright sleep. James came and laid with me for a few minutes before we had to get up. They made the bed and I got dressed.

I was excited to wear my valentine's Halloween sweater. But really I should have put another shirt on under it because I was cold!! It was so chilly today!! I ended up wearing socks and leggings and boots. And was still a little chilly. I would be fine but man. It was surprising.

We left here and got me breakfast before heading to the museum. It was drizzling. And would be on and off rain all morning. The wind was pretty strong as well. James and Stanley would come out and put the sides down and that helped a lot. Made the day a lot more pleasant and a lot less blustery.

I was pretty focused on my knitting today. But I would spend a good amount of time talking to Ginny. She apparently loves to travel and we were just talking about that and wedding stuff and she is so nice. I got a pumpkin roll and an apple cider donut. I would jokingly run away and tell her James would come out and pay later. And of course they did come out to get their pastries and we laughed about me running away. And later one Ginny would be one of my 3 sales. She bought my beaded "have a nice day!" totebag. Made me feel good and I gave her a little discount.

I had some nice conversations and got to see cute babies. I did my knitting and had lots of people watch me and compliment me and it is very easy to make me feel all proud of myself and my work when that happens. It's nice to share this type of knitting too.

I would space it out well and would finish my last row right around 12. I had had a nice chat with Helen about possible alternatives to flowers because she is going to be cleared out because of another wedding she's doing. And I talked to Stanley for a bit about my fiber works. And I chatted with Bob the blacksmith for a long time. Got to tell him about my bronze casting background and I think I impressed him with my patina knowledge.

Around 11 Anne decided, based on vender feedback, that we should close early. Didn't have to tell me twice. So at noon we all packed up. My stuff takes like 2 minutes to put away so I waited until I saw someone else putting things away. And then I was off.

I got all my stuff in my box and loaded up the wagon and over to the car. I went in to say goodbye to James and remind them to print our stickers. And then I headed home.

When I got back here I brought my knitting up. Grabbed the mail. And pet Sweetp for a bit. I have a heating pad in the couch for him because I'm worried he will be cold.

And then I changed and got in bed.

I spent a while brushing out my bear. The little windbreaker I got him came and so I wanted him to not look as scrungly. It's not perfect. But using a file card and a cat brush got most of the mats out. And the little windbreaker looks so cute. I did end up ordering a black hoodie off of Etsy since I couldn't find one anywhere else. I will later the two so he can have a hood again. Which I think looks better.

I still stand by the colts being funny because that used to be the football team in Baltimore before they were stolen in the night. James looked at the shirt and said that it was a funny way to spell Baltimore. Which is fair enough.

I worked on some knitting stuff. Experimenting with the yarns I have. A lot of mine are either to thick or to loose. I was able to make a few more tubes I will attempt to make into plushies. It's fun to try stuff.

I would start trying to sleep. I ended up looking at advent calendars and I am excited that this year I actually was able to order the jam Advent calendar!! It is usually sold out by the time I remember it but I used the Amazon gift card the dentist gave me and the Cashback I had on my credit card so it's basically free. I'm really excited.

And then I slept. I slept to long honestly. James was home from work when I woke up and we laid in bed together. Which was very nice. They felt very cold so I hope I warmed them up a little.

Then we had dinner in bed. And watched videos. Eventually I went to work on cutting out the stickers they printed but the ink didn't stick to the paper and just flaked off and I was so upset. At first I thought they just didn't dry and had rub off because of that but if I ran my finger on them it just came right off. Super disappointed. So I ordered a different brand of paper to try out. We'll see what happens I guess.

I was really uspset then. And then got more upset when the street fair tomorrow still hadn't emailed me. The last one I did have me a 72 hour out email and a 24 hour out, and then a day off. This fair started on Friday and they never even confirmed they got my application!! The only reason I know they did is because my name is on the website. But I don't know anything. I had emailed them twice this week but no answer. So I finally set them a Facebook message since they had been posting photos. And whoever runs it did message me back but just said the vender coordinator would take care of it in the morning. What does that mean?? I don't even have an address. Or a spot number. Or anything!! I don't even feel comfortable with going with how the rain is going to be. And I'm going to be alone.

I have basically decided that I will wake up at 8 tomorrow. And if they don't send an email by 9 when load in is supposed to start I won't go. I really don't want to go anyway but I feel bad wasting $60 on the table fee. It basically wipes out my profit from today. But like also. It's a really long market, 9 am load in, goes until 6pm. And it is going to rain literally all day.

So I am just not feeling my best. I feel just this side of angry. It isn't a nice feeling.

I did get to test more yarn tonight. And hang out with James. And I got a shower. But I have a lot of tension in my jaw. And I don't know how to make it stop.

I hope you all feel okay and are taking care of yourself. Stay safe. And be careful. Goodnight everyone.