#but I've been feeling a rise in muse lately so

[vagabond-umlaut]

paper planes

brother to fushiguro tsumiki. (unofficially adopted) son to gojo satoru and you. nephew to a host of sorcerer uncles and aunts. (unwilling) assistant to the white-haired idiot. and, finally, ringbearer at your and gojo's still-undetermined wedding.

one teeny-tiny boy with one too many identity is what fushiguro megumi is - until he isn't. with lots and lots of sniffles and sniggers...

▸ gojo satoru x fem! reader; established relationship; post hidden inventory arc; manga spoilers; proposals; adoptions; alternate universe happy for everyone except toji lovers (sorry ＞︿＜)

▸ two fics in a week, wow. guess this is what is called a brainrot, huh? read this post by @/mintmatcha on tumblr and started writing this lol. but the plot of this story is miles, tons, eons away from that post, i swear. also, this fic is set in the same universe as blue hawaii but you need not read that first to read this. treat this as a stand-alone if you wanna! 😊 anyways, gif, divider and characters ain't mine. please don't plagiarize, translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

"yeah, yeah, i've got it all planned."

a discreet eye roll is all megumi gives as he goes through the menu card in his hands. a little distance away, he can spy tsumiki and you seated at a table, you tying his sister's long hair into braids while the latter laughs, probably at a joke you cracked.

a tiny smile rests on the little boy's face at the sight - which vanishes when he feels a large hand tousle his hair. you had spent hours and hours righting his hair into a proper shape; why must this idiot always mess everything up?

megumi looks up to find his guardian looking down at him with a shit-eating grin; though he can clearly see the nerves it's covering.

idiot.

phone wedged in between his ear and shoulder, gojo mutters a "one sec, suguru," and crouches down to the boy's eye level. the latter gives back an unimpressed stare.

"decided what you wanna have, 'gumi? remember mom and sis there asked you to choose for them today."

megumi feels an urge to say you two aren't his real parents - but stamps it down instantly. the both of you have been as good as real parents can be to their kids - or maybe even better. the boy has read books, watched movies and listened to his classmates talk about their families; the tiny urchin-head knows.

with a huff, he points at the double chicken fillet burger box - it's tsumiki's favourite and you too don't seem to dislike it. with a nod, gojo rises and placing his orders, returns to the call, beaming expression again directed at megumi.

"yeah, yeah, don't worry, man," he speaks into the phone, then drops his volume to a mere whisper, "'my little kiddo here is a born actor. he remembers the entire plan, step by step - don't you, buddy?"

megumi gives an imperceptible nod, itching back to get back to the table. he already would have - needless to say, the little munchkin prefers your company to gojo's, way way more - but their orders have not been delivered yet and the boy promised to be-

a little tap on the shoulder draws him from his musings and he cranes his neck up to find gojo frowning. "no, megumi didn't want to discuss the plan with me before leaving. no, he doesn't like you better- hey," the man looks at him, sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose revealing his indignant gaze, "you wanna discuss with uncle suguru one last time?"

an indifferent shrug is all the reply he gives.

while uncle suguru isn't the best uncle he has, he isn't the worst either. the others are- oh, wait. the others include uncle kento and uncle yu. they are literal angels compared to him. so... maybe... he is the worst... never mind. it's too late to back out anyways.

grumbling, gojo hands him the phone. "hello uncle," megumi greets just like you and tsumiki have taught him to. the man behind mutters something along the lines of ''traitor" or something; the boy pays him no mind.

"hey champ," the voice floats over the line, pleasant, kind and the way people talk to babbling babies. megumi's bored face turns irritated. "let's discuss the semantics one last time before boarding your flight, okay?"

"yeah, okay," megumi says, and casting a sideways glance at his bundle-of-nerves guardian, continues, "we're going to reykjavik," he looks at gojo, silently asking if he pronounced it correctly. the man sends him a thumbs-up with an encouraging grin.

the kid continues, "the plane will land at noon day after tomorrow, which is mom's birthday. first, we will go to the hotel. then, after resting, in the evening, we will head out in a car to watch the northern lights. and then-"

"-when it's the right moment, your dad will pop the question to your mom and you'll click the camera. got it, mr. future ringbearer?" finishing the rest of the sentence for him, the man at the other end asks, sounds of pans clacking and food sizzling in the background. nana-chan and mimi-chan must have woken up.

megumi nods. "yeah, got it, mr. future best man."

a chuckle comes in response to his comment. "you're a lot like your mom, y'know?"

"yeah," he mumbles, waving back to you and tsumiki, a little smile on his otherwise-impassive-but-always-adorable face, "i know."

"good," the man says, then pauses when a loud crash booms through the air and through the phone, a set of two wailing voices following it not soon after. megumi can quite literally picture the wincing frown his uncle is wearing as he says the next words in a hurry, "okay, 'gumi. talk to you later. bye, and best of luck! satoru's counting on his little assistant."

"yeah, thanks," he responds but is too late - the call is already cut by then.

giving the phone back to gojo, who's tapping his sneakers-clad feet on the floor, he looks back ahead, wondering when the hell heck their token number will be displayed and when they will get their food.

to the kid's great relief, it doesn't take a lot of time.

before long, the four of you are seated around the table, gojo stealing a sip from your drink and you stealing fries from him, all the while tsumiki giggles loudly at your antics. megumi smiles, before he hides it behind the burger which he takes a bite from.

the four of you really look like a family, don't you?

"hey, guys, can i have your attention for a sec, please?" your sudden question startles him from his mind. the boy turns to find you with your usual grin, albeit a smidgen of anxiety can be found in the way your fingers drum on the table.

megumi shares a look with tsumiki and gojo. they look as confused as he feels. "do i have your attention, people?" you ask again, manner growing a tad solemn unlike your usual, though the affection is still evident in your tone.

gojo and tsumiki nod immediately. you turn to him, gently smiling, "can i have your attention too, 'gumi? please?"

the boy nods his head instantly. "yeah, yeah. sure," he replies, scooting his chair closer to yours. you send him a relieved smile. "good, 'cause what i'm going to say next is very important. so, listen to me carefully, 'kay?"

all three of them are eager to nod in affirmation and anticipation.

scouring through your backpack, you retrieve a couple of pretty important-looking papers, and placing them back on the table, clasp your hands atop them. the kid spots gojo shoot you a worried look to which you respond with a reassuring smile.

the man's frown fades a little.

gaze now darting from one kid to another, you begin, "you two know, right, we love you very much?"

"yeah!" tsumiki exclaims, but is quick to fall silent when megumi shoots her a glare. you proceed, lips pressing into a thin line, "but we cannot adopt you two, in spite of how much all us want it to happen. we tried to, many, many times. but those higher-ups just won't let us do that."

a second passes - one wherein his young brain registers your words - before, lower lip wobbling, the boy casts his gaze down upon his light-up sneakers.

is this where you'll say he'll be sent to those zen'ins? away from his sister? away from you and gojo? away from all his uncles, aunts, nana-chan and mimi-chan?

megumi feels a hand card through his locks gently. looking up, he finds you with a soft smile. "but the thing is 'toru and i didn't let them defeat our purpose. we thought, you two can choose to be my clan's wards. not 'toru's, because of fucking - sorry, please forget i said that word - i meant, idiotic clan politics. so, what do you think?"

megumi turns to his sister, a pensive look plastered on her face the way it is on his. gojo adds, a tender smile in place of his usual stupid grin, "no pressure, kids. the both of us won't love you two any less and will be equally fine in case you choose not to."

"you guys can take how much ever time you need to think. there's no hurry," megumi hears you say, your warm hand rubbing circles on his back, as he turns back to his half-eaten burger.

a long moment passes.

passengers enter the cafeteria, they leave the cafeteria. the four of you remain seated, quietly munching on your food.

the boy finally removes his gaze from his now-empty tray and sends an inquiring, confused, hopeful look to his sister. tsumiki smiles back with a tiny nod. the little kid feels his heart burst with joy.

"we want to," the two of them answer in unison, and within a fraction of a second, megumi finds himself swept up in a warm hug alongside his sister, by you. "thank you for giving me, for giving us a chance," he hears you mutter quietly in a tear-choked voice. the boy simply pats your back the way you do to him. he soon feels another set of arms wrap around the three of you.

megumi thinks he has never felt happier or safer than in this moment.

a while passes with the four of you in this manner, enwrapped in an embrace, before you all finally pull away from each other.

the boy returns to his seat, rubbing his eyes. a minute passes in composing all of yourselves before you state, munching on another fry, "so, step one, including tsumiki and megumi into my legal family is done and successful. thank you, my loves."

tsumiki beams back at you; megumi returns a tiny smile. you grin at them - which, the kid watches, turns slyer as you switch your focus to your boyfriend.

the little boy stares at you, then stifles a snicker - he thinks he has a pretty good idea of what's gonna happen next. his gut instincts are rarely wrong, after all.

"but, 'toru..." you drawl, grin giving way to a smirk as gojo smiles back - perplexed but loving all the same. "for the step two, making you my legal family too, guess i need to wait to say 'yes' until the northern lights viewing two days later... don't i?"

a beat passes, then another, and another.

a loud gasp sounds from tsumiki. megumi turns to his dad - who's gaping wide-eyed at his mom now, the man's face whiter than his ugly hair - and smirks. just like the imp the goggles-wearing idiot always calls him at home, despite you repeatedly telling him not to.

gojo looks back at him, shock written on, engraved into his features.

"though i didn't really help you propose, i'm still the ringbearer, right?"

▸ masterlist

[calliesmemes]

RISE OF THE GUARDIANS (2012)

A SET OF SENTENCE STARTERS PULLED FROM THE DIALOGUE FEATURED IN DREAMWORKS’ ANIMATED FILM RISE OF THE GUARDIANS

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“   Why I am here and what I am meant to do, that I've never known. A part of me wonders if I ever will. ”

“   Oh, uh, excuse me. Can you tell me where I am? ”

“   How many times have I told you to knock? ”

“   We are going to have company. ”

“   It is our job to watch over the children of the world and keep them safe. ”

“   The children are in danger. ”

“   An enemy we have kept at bay for centuries has finally decided to strike back. ”

“   We alone can stop him. ”

“   I obviously wouldn't have called you all here unless it was serious. ”

“   Look, he's up to something very bad. I feel it in my belly. ”

“   I don't have time for this! ”

“   We have a serious situation. ”

“   It's been a long time, old friend. ”

“   Since when do we need help? ”

“   He doesn't care about children! ”

“   Oh, that looks interesting. Good book? ”

“   Come on! You guys will believe anything. ”

“   Okay, who threw that? ”

“   Did you guys see that? It was amazing! ”

“   What's a guy got to do to get a little attention around here? ”

“   But I can do it this time! ”

“   Straight to bed now, mister. ”

“   If there's something I'm doing wrong, can you just tell me what it is? ”

“   Why, there's only one thing missing. ”

“   Feel your fear. Come on. Come on, that's right. ”

“   Don't look at me like that, old friend. ”

“   You must have known this day would come. ”

“   You're not still mad about that, are you? ”

“   You got to be kidding me. ”

“   Oh, yeah, I love being shoved in a sack and tossed through a magic portal. ”

“  I've heard a lot about you. ”

“   Hey, ho, anyone want to tell me why I'm here? ”

“   I must've done something really bad to get you four together. ”

“   What are you doing? Get off of me! ”

“   What makes you think I want to be a Guardian? ”

“   This is all very flattering, but, uh, you don't want me. ”

“   I don't think you understand what it is we do. ”

“   All the more reason to pick someone more qualified. ”

“   You were chosen! Like we were all chosen. ”

“   You see, you cannot say no. It is destiny. ”

“   No, no. That's not for me! No offense. ”

“   None of them believe in you, do they? ”

“   It's like you don't even exist. ”

“   It's nothing personal. But what you all do, it's just not my thing. ”

“   You must have something very special inside yourself. ”

“   I told you I'm not going with you guys! ”

“   Hold on, everyone! I know a shortcut. ”

“   Oh, thank goodness. One of you is all right. ”

“   I have to say, this is very, very exciting. ”

“   I'm a little starstruck. ”

“   Maybe I want what you have. ”

“   Since when are you all so chummy? ”

“   Oh, good. A neutral party. ”

“   I'm going to ignore you. But you must be used to that by now. ”

“   You shadow-sneaking ratbag, come here! ”

“   Took me a while to perfect this little trick. ”

“   They smell fear, you know. ”

“   Such happy times for me. Oh, the power I wielded. ”

“   Oh, there's nothing to be afraid of. ”

“   They... They don't believe in me anymore. ”

“   There will be nothing but fear and darkness. ”

“   It's your turn not to be believed in. ”

“   You should have seen them. They put up such a fight. ”

“   When someone needs to remember what's important, we help them. ”

“   Are you saying I had a life before that, with a home and a family? ”

“   You really don't remember? ”

“   All these years, the answers were right here. ”

“   No such thing as too late! ”

“   Look, I'd tell you to stay out of my way, but, really, what's the point? ”

“   Whoa, whoa, whoa! Take it easy there, champ. ”

“   Why did I ever stop doing this? ”

“   All right, nobody panic. ”

“   You know, for a neutral party, you spend an awful lot of time with those weirdos. ”

“   This isn’t your fight. ”

“   Remind me not to get on your bad side. ”

“   Don't fight the fear! ”

“   How did you do that? ”

“   Finally! Someone who knows how to have a little fun! ”

“   I just... I wish I could've done something. ”

“   I don't know who you were in your past life. ”

“   How can I know who I am until I find out who I was? ”

“   He's tipped the balance. ”

“   Crikey! Somebody do something. ”

“   When was the last time you guys actually hung out with kids? ”

“   How much time do we have? ”

“   All right, troops, it's time to push back. ”

“   Don't be afraid. I'm not gonna hurt you. ”

“   It's the one thing I always know. People's greatest fears. ”

“   Why were you chosen to be like this? ”

“   They'll never accept you. Not really. ”

“   You make a mess wherever you go. ”

“   You should be happy you still get dreams like that and not nightmares. ”

“   They never really believed in you. ”

“   All those years in the shadows I thought no one else knows what this feels like. But now I see I was wrong. ”

“   We don’t have to be alone. ”

“   Look at what we can do. ”

“   They'll fear both of us. And that's not what I want. ”

“   You have a bad habit of interfering. ”

“   You can't have fun all the time. ”

“   It's okay. It's okay. Don't look down. Just look at me. ”

“   I promise, I promise. You're gonna be... You're gonna be fine. You have to believe in me. ”

“   You and I are obviously at what they call a crossroads. ”

“   He told me you were real. Just when I started to think that maybe you weren't. ”

“   That little trick doesn't work on me anymore. ”

“   All this fuss over one little boy. ”

“   There are other ways to snuff out a light. ”

“   If you want him, you're gonna have to go through me. ”

“   I can't tell you how happy it makes me to see you all like this. ”

“   I'm just not afraid of you. ”

“   Mate, you are a sight for sore eyes. ”

“   You dare have fun in my presence ”

“   Leaving the party so soon? You didn't even say goodbye. ”

“   You can't get rid of me! Not forever. ”

“   There will always be fear. ”

“   It is time that you take the Oath. ”

[boygiwrites]

Harley D. Dixon 5

An amazing edit inspired by this story! (Cred to Cora_Line99) Harley D. Dixon's Pinterest Board! Harley D. Dixon's Playlist!

📖Chapter List.

Author's Note. This is our CDC chapter, so TW for mention of suicide in this one. It's a little graphic.

And it might be better to go in blind, but if you'd like the second TW, please check the first tag on this post.

Other than that, please enjoy reading!

Glenn exhales, "Would you look at that?"

The sun is rising.

Last night I was a dying dog and today I am Harley Dixon.

Me, Dad and Glenn are on the roof of the parked RV, watching the sky give birth to the sun, knowing that I got hundreds more sunrises waiting for me; that the worst is over, like Rick said. The morning is as fresh as peeled summer fruit, and it's all ours. I'm reminded of special breakfasts on our old porch, where my Uncle Merle and my Dad would be scooping burnt scrambled eggs into their mouths, and I'd be in Dad's lap, sipping on a box of orange juice. We had them whenever I won an award at school. I feel like I've won every award in the world.

Glenn is the one sitting next to us, now, in this new version of day-break. He fills the outline of where a ghost of a brother and an Uncle used to be. We're sharing a secret bag of old freeze-dried cherries, while everyone else sleeps. They're a small luxury, like the sun. We can make happiness out of anything.

It all feels right.

"One hundred percent mold free, this time. I swear," Glenn says, ripping the bag open and pouring me the first cherries.

"They better be," Dad jokes. "First time was free."

"Next time, you'll beat my ass?" Glenn guesses.

He looks like he's realizing his legacy is always gonna be the guy who can't make jerky.

"Damn straight."

We knock our plastic bowls together, smiling.

"To Harley."

"To Harley."

"To me!"

"What a mess this whole thing was." Glenn shakes his head, chewing. "I know I already said it, but... I'm really sorry."

"Ain't your fault you can't cook." I giggle.

"Gee, thanks." He laughs. "I guess I deserve that."

"Just learn to salt the damn meat, China." Dad says. "Then we can talk."

"Okay, okay, okay." Glenn puts his hands up, but he's still grinning. "I suck at cooking. I get it. Are Dixons always this mean?"

Me and my Daddy answer, yes, at the same time.

"Good to know." Mumbles Glenn.

"The night I got scratched," I muse, my fingers painted with crayon-red cherry juice. "You was the first person after my Dad to reach the tent."

I remember people saying that Glenn could outrun a cheetah if there were enough supplies behind the finish line. The thought makes me laugh again. When you ain't big, you gotta find other ways to elbow your way through danger. Sometimes a good brain and better legs are all you need. Sometimes people like me and Glenn get to win, too.

"I guess so." Glenn's smiling shyly. "But only because Rick was too busy reloading. And Shane was up the back. And, well, I guess— When we first got back to camp, people were saying that you were gone. That you were missing, or dead, or— We didn't know. Your Dad, he just took off into the woods. Just, vroom, y'know? Like, gone. I thought if I was gonna be like anyone, it should be him. So, I went running, too."

Dad leans over and grips Glenn's shoulder; shakes it. A gesture that says, Man to man, I respect you. Maybe even, Brother to brother.

It takes a lot to earn my Dad's respect, if you ain't his blood.

"You all looked like you was boutta faint." I snicker, 'cause it's funny now.

"W-we all thought it was too late." Glenn tries to laugh. It's been hard, I guess, bottling up that night until now. "When we first saw the tent."

I see flashes of wet eyes, and teeth, and spiders.

"I did too," I confess.

My Dad turns me around in his lap, then, and bounces his knee a little. "But I woulda never let that happen, chicken, y'hear? And I ain't never gonna let that happen. I'd have to be dead, 'fore a walker laid his hands on you." He frowns, looking me dead in the eye.

"I hear." I nod. "It was just really scary."

"C'mere, babe."

He pulls me down to his chest — his heart — and I curl up there, where I know nothin' will ever get me.

"For the record, I was about to faint." Glenn mutters.

I throw a cherry at him and he dodges it, grinning.

"I knew it!"

We all sit like this for a long while, with the sun and the rustling wheat as our friends, snacking on our sour fruit. Then they start talking again, a notch deeper, a notch outta my league. Adult to adult. I realize they must think I'm asleep — It is the ass-crack of dawn, after all — so I don't interrupt.

"I didn't mean it like that, you know." Glenn tells my Dad. "You can protect your own. I get that."

"Don't tell me what I already know, kid."

"I just..." Glenn starts, but then there's nothing.

In this long moment, I think Glenn is going to leave down the ladder, 'cause it's what anyone else would do.

People like me and my Dad — People who hoard supermarket coupons, and talk real nasty, and get called hillbillies — don't mix well with people like Glenn. People pretend there isn't, but there's an invisible cut-off on who deserves what in life, and it ends right after people who only gotta work one job. Glenn's smart, and he prolly ain't never had to go hungry to pay his water bills, not once in his life. He prolly ain't never been to jail, or snapped a squirrel's neck, or re-used the same bottle of hand soap forty times over. He's like the rest of 'em. Rick and Lori. Shane. The kids in my old classes. Their parents on parent-night. We can work well together but anything else is askin' too much.

But we're family now, right? I think Glenn might leave, but—

"Well, for what it's worth, I couldn't do it." Is all Glenn says.

He doesn't leave. In fact, I hear him settling further into his chair. It's what Uncle Merle would have done.

My Dad pauses. "Do what?"

"Look over my shoulder all the time. Worry about someone else every time I hear a gunshot. Walk around knowing I have that much to lose." Glenn sounds lost in thought, but then he surfaces. He ends his list with a simple, "Be a parent."

My Dad sighs, debating whether or not to go along with this.

"That ain't all there is to it." He eventually says.

"No?"

"Nah. It ain't some curse." Dad says. "I hear a gunshot? Sure, first thing I'm thinkin' 'bout is Harley. But that's the way it's meant to be."

"I just don't think I'd be able to handle it." I imagine Glenn gazing out at the sky. "These past few days have been stressful enough."

"Yeah, well that's why I got a kid 'n you don't." Dad's being a bit of a smart-ass. Then, he answers seriously. "You got a kid? You gotta be ready to die for 'em. But it ain't just sittin' around, waitin' to do it. It's the opposite. Every day I wake up, and I do it for her. I do everythin' I do for her. After that baby's born, who you were, what you liked doin', any plans you had — That's over. Suddenly, yer life ain't the most important thing you got, no more."

I've never heard my Dad talk like this. I wish our lives were worth the same, but I guess it don't work that way.

"And who were you?" Glenn asks, knocking back a cherry. "Before Harley?"

"A nobody. Drunk bastard with drunk-bastard friends." Dad scoffs.

"Well... That's good, then?" Glenn's guessing. "Sounds like she changed you for the better, man."

I can't imagine my Dad being anybody other than my Dad. The day I came into the world, so did he. There's nothin' before that.

"It's hard." Dad admits, prolly for the first time ever, to Glenn. "I love 'er, but it's hard as shit. Some days I wanna pull my damn hair out."

"You must have been going crazy during... everything."

"Oh, you think?" Dad jokes. "You ain't seen me fuck up that walkie?"

Glenn bursts out laughing. "It hit the RV when you threw it out the window. Scared the shit out of Dale."

I have to try really hard not to laugh. I'm meant to be pretend-asleep!

"You got any nieces, or anythin'?" Dad asks.

"No." Glenn answers. "My sisters were either too interested in their careers to have kids, or... Too young."

Glenn's sisters aren't here. Blood does everything it can to stay together. Dad taught me that. That means his sisters are both young and dead.

"That's gotta be tough, man." Dad sighs.

"No, it's alright. Sometimes I can pretend they're out there, together. Happy." He pauses. "What about you? Nieces? Nephews?"

Dad actually laughs a little. "Fuck no. Not from my side, at least. Guy like my brother ain't meant to spread his seed around. Ain't right."

Glenn starts laughing, too. "I guess not."

"Nah, Harley's my only girl." My Dad says. I feel him start playing with the end of my ponytail.

"You know, when you first showed up in camp, I thought she was Merle's." Glenn says, then quickly, "No offence."

"No shit?" Dad scoffs.

"No shit. I thought you looked too young to have a kid."

An unspoken joke makes them both laugh all over again.

"Yeah, well, I was real busy in my teen years."

I got no idea what that means, but it must be funny. Their conversation tapers from chuckling into a warm silence, and then it's just us and the sun again. It clips over a candy-colored cloud, and I can hear car doors opening and shutting, and loud yawns from down below. We're gonna be on the road again soon. I might not need a cure anymore, but we still need water, food, and walls, and the CDC's got it all. I hear someone shouting, alright, people, time to start heading out, and then a whole bunch of shuffling. The day isn't just ours, anymore.

My Dad stretches, groaning, and I pretend to be woken up by it.

He pinches my cheek. "Look who's here."

"Hey, Harley." Glenn smiles, packing up. "You enjoy the cherries?"

"Uh-huh," I smile back. "Thank you."

"No problem." He says. "There's actually some left over, if you want it."

He holds out the bag while I dig my hand into it.

I think it's funny how me, the man who made me, and the man who almost killed me are all friends, now. I learnt in science class that the more pressure you put on a rock, the more compact the molecules get. I think we're the molecules. It's bittersweet.

"Not too many." Dad warns. "You're still sick, remember? Don't want you messin' up my truck again."

"I remember," I promise, shoving a handful of cherries into my mouth. I also remember him sayin' he don't give a damn 'bout the truck.

Someone shouts out the radio channel again.

"Time to see this thing through, then." Rallies Glenn, but he looks nervous.

We say goodbye to the sunrise.

"Dad, is that—?"

"That's the CDC, alright."

We reach it by early morning. It's a monster of a building. It's like a big, white buoy in the middle of the ocean, saying, Come here, I'll keep you afloat. We ease to a stop and then we just look at it, 'cause it's all we can do. The CDC, right before our eyes. It's really there.

"It's bigger than I thought." I think aloud.

Dad just grunts, wary. "Stay close to me."

Our new walkie chimes, and Rick speaks to everyone when he says, "This is it, people. Leave your things. We're gonna walk up."

Why does the air feel so cold?

My Dad pulls both me and his crossbow out the truck, and then the whole group — one tired, beaten, hopeful force — are slowly making our way to the building. We walk through a silent field. I wish it could speak to us; tell us what it's been through.

We pass torn bags of sand and littered bullet shells. I think there's something here that we're not seeing, not yet, like a sleeping beast at the back of a cave, and when we find it, we're gonna be sorry we ever looked. We weave through big, black piles of clothes. The clothes are full, I realize. Full of hands, and legs; all white, all dead. They're bodies. They still have their human faces; they're still them, just dead, and they're studded with the bullets that the shells came from. The story tells itself, on behalf of the ghosts. They give their blood back to mother nature, dripping into the grass. I gasp. From head to toe, I go cold. My Dad shields my face, but I've already seen 'em. They're already nightmares.

Rick leads us. He leads us past trucks and barriers and blockades. Every sign the universe gives him to turn back, he ploughs through, chin up.

Maybe he's brave. Maybe he's stupid. Maybe he was designed to be both. Maybe we're walking to our deaths.

Nobody speaks. If they do, the bodies might wake up, and the graveyard we're intruding on will realize it doesn't want us here.

A crow squawks from its post on a dead soldier's helmet. If I spoke bird, I'd hear, Turn back.

We have to do this. It's what everyone's thinking, as they manage one foot in front of the other. Just one more step, and after that, just one more step. I take in the group, 'cause they ain't dead, and it's a little less awful to look at.

Morales, rifle up. Eliza, Louis and Sophia, three baby ducklings under their Mommas' shaking wings. Dale and Shane, polar opposites but in this moment, exactly the same; with their steely gaze and steady hands. Jacqui and Andrea, holding hands; two girls in women's bodies, walking through a world that wants to eat them. I catch Carl's eye. He catches mine, over the violence spread out before us. I watch him send me a thumbs up, which does nothing but turn me colder — colder than ice, colder than I've ever been — before my view is blocked for a second time, by Glenn. I'm sandwiched in; hidden, protected. I squeeze my eyes shut and hope I'll get to open them again. My Dad leads me by the shirt over the grass. I trust him.

My shoes hit something tougher, louder — Cement. Rock? Our footsteps echo, now. Are we really in a cave?

It goes double-dark, through my eyelids. Please don't leave us, I beg the sun nicely, We need you.

I squeeze my Dad's hand. He squeezes back.

Then I hear a rumble, like thunder, and I peek out from behind my Dad. It's Rick, banging on roller shutters. We all clench closer together, a fist ready to fight. Nobody does it on purpose, but me and all the other kids are pushed toward the middle. Rumble, rumble, rumble. Rick goes from one door to another to another, until he's shook down the entire row.

Guns are raised. We step back, together.

It's like knockin' on doors on Halloween. We don't know what creature's gonna answer. Maybe nobody.

"Anybody home?" Glenn mutters.

We stretch our silence for as long as we can stand it. There is no answer.

Newly determined, or maybe offended, or scared, or maybe all three, Rick beats down all the doors again like he hates 'em.

"Hey!" He calls out. "Whoever's in there, open up!"

"Nobody's here, man!" T-Dog shakes his head, but he ain't got no proof.

"Then tell me why you think all the damn shutters are down?" Rick snarls, and it's like we're in the parking lot again, and I'm scared.

And I should be.

"Walkers incoming!" Shane shouts.

Suddenly, my Dad and Glenn are whirling the other way, facing our new enemy. I grab onto the back of Dad's belt, and when I peer out between their elbows, I see one, two, six, twelve dead bodies lumbering to their feet, all dressed in military green, and dented helmets, and layers and layers of crusty black blood and loose skin. The other kids start to cry, but not me. I can't cry, 'cause I can't breathe. I hear a slicing fwip, and then one of the dead soldiers drop to the ground like the only thing holding him up were strings. An arrow marks his second deathbed.

"We can't fuckin' stay here, Rick!" My Dad's yelling. "You led us into a death-trap!"

I'm grabbing onto the back of Glenn's shirt, now, 'cause my Dad's stomping off to confront Rick and Shane. I hide my nose in my knuckles. Death-trap, I'm panicking, Death-trap. A week ago, I'd be standing here alone, but I got Glenn now. I don't know how I know that, but I do. I got Glenn.

"Glenn, I'm scared." I whine to him, and there it is, I'm crying. I think of happier things, like cherries and the sun.

"I— I know." Glenn puffs, 'cause he's scared, too. "I know."

He lets me grab his hand. It's what Uncle Merle would have done.

"Death trap or not, we're here for a reason!" Dale's arguing. "Rick made a call! We all did!"

"You want us to phase through the fuckin' doors, old man?" Dad spits. "We're stuck out here! My daughter's stuck out here!"

"Running out of time here, guys!" Jacqui's worrying.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Are those gunshots, now? Bullets are last resorts. Last resorts are only for when you're gonna die. Are we gonna—?

"Are we gonna die, Glenn?"

"No." He hurries to answer, gripping me tighter. "N—No."

"We need to leave!" A woman — Carol? — cries.

"She's right." Lori. That's Lori. "This close to the city? It's too dangerous!"

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Fort Benning." Shane looks like he's 'bout ready to bolt, bouncin' from foot to foot. A trapped animal. "We can do it. It's still an option, Rick."

"Is it?" Glenn's shouting. "It's a hundred twenty-five miles away!"

"No fuel? Two sick kids?" Morales is shakin' his head, no, no, no. "It's impossible!"

What do we do? No, no, no. We can't leave, but no, no, no, we can't stay, neither.

"What do you wanna do, then?" Shane argues back. "What you wanna do?"

"That's it! We're done here!"

My Dad shuts the whole thing down with one angry shout, locking his hand around my wrist. He tugs me away, and for a moment, the group is tugging itself along behind us, back to the street and the cars. We're a unit again — in the wind, goin' anywhere; scared, flimsy. We take one step, and then two, and we make it all the way back to the grass, before—

"Wait!"

It's Rick.

He ain't budged. Brave or stupid? Is he nuts?

"The camera." He tells us, breathless. "It moved."

All three.

"You imagined it." Dale decides, 'cause he'll say anything to get Rick to move. "How could it have moved?"

It's a lost cause — a last-ditch attempt.

The arguing re-ignites. I hide myself again, 'cause I'd rather be anywhere else.

Rick's shouting that he saw it, he saw the camera move, and his voice hits the concrete and closes in on us, just like the field. Fwip. Bang. Bang. Bang. Each burst of noise is a ticking hand on a dyin' clock. The bodies are picking themselves up faster than we're dropping 'em. Glenn's got a knife out, now, and Shane's pleading with Rick, who's gone nuts, Man, listen, the place is gone, it's gone, it's gone, it's gone. Rumble, rumble, rumble. Fwip. Bang. Crying; shrieking, from me, from the other kids, from Lori, and Jacqui, and the air as it's cut in half by bullet after bullet after bullet. Please, we have two sick kids out here, someone's begging.

"You're killing us!" Rick tells the camera. "You're killing us!"

My Dad fists the back of my shirt and he's pullin' me away, stronger than before. I think he's saying, Fuck it, we can make it on our own; leave the bastard. This must really be rock bottom. We were on our own for weeks. He must be thinking that we can do it again. I can see Glenn struggling to decide whether he should stay with the group or follow his feet, which are already trying to run after me and my Dad. I see Jacqui doin' it, too, and then Andrea, and then Carol.

A body topples over in our path, arrow up its nose. This is chaos.

Cherries and sunlight. Cherries and sunlight.

Then—

Behind us.

A gentle rumble, rumble.

We all whip around.

The doors — They're opening. They really are.

Even Rick looks like he can't believe it. We watch them open, mouths agape, like a bunch of idiots — A portal, to another world.

At first, we think there's a catch. Nothing comes without a catch. Do we go in?

But then there's another bang, and we're reminded that we're as good as dead if we stay out here any longer. We're on the move again, but this time, we're walking into the big, white mouth of the big, white monster, praying, Please don't be worse than it is out here, please don't make us regret this. We stay close together as the doors roll back down, sealing us in. We can breathe again, but only slightly. Would I rather take my chances with the dead soldiers, or with the unknown? I'm not sure. Now it's really happening, I don't think any of us are.

"Electricity." Jacqui whispers in cautious wonder. Electricity is like a myth.

Rick nods toward an archway. "Let's keep moving."

We trickle into the belly of the beast — Down a hallway, and into a lobby with the tallest damn ceiling I ever saw. Papers are thrown all over the floor and the computers at the reception desk are all upturned, but it's pin-drop silent. It's like being in a museum for an old extinction event.

"Hello?" Rick calls out, and if there's a scary creature in here, I sure hope it eats him first. "Who's in here? Who opened the doors?"

The silence answers.

"I did."

I jump outta my skin. Dad gets himself in front of me, but I peek around his waist. There's a man at the top of the stairs. He looks like he's been here for a long, long time. Like those lonely boys in Lord of the Flies, where they'd been on an island for so long that they started going a little crazy. He's wearing a regular t-shirt. I wonder where his lab coat is, if he's a scientist. This is a building for scientists.

"What did you mean by 'sick'?" The lonely-crazy-man calls down to us. "You said you had two sick kids. Is anybody infected?"

The whole group hardens at this question. They all glance back at me. I can see our journey in their eyes.

Rick's smiling, and this time, it looks right.

"You don't know the half of it." He turns back around, chin up, like always. "No. Nobody's infected. Thank God."

Dad puts a hand my shoulder.

The scientist doesn't share the same enthusiasm.

"I'm not sure He's around, anymore." He muses, vaguely sad. Then, "Why are you here? What do you want?"

I've never been good at words, but Rick is, 'cause he comes up with the perfect answer. One he knows we'd all agree on.

"A chance."

And maybe some water. After all we been through, that can't be too much to ask. We must look like a pathetic, begging mess, 'cause that's what we are. I know I am. My hair's made outta knots and grease, just like Lori and Andrea's. We're covered in beatings from the road, like bruises from Jim's fists and eyebags from sleepless nights. We left our quarry for this. We left our fish, and our tyre swing, and we left Jim. This can't be for nothing.

The man, who stands high above us, a judging eye, takes us in. "That's asking an awful lot, these days."

All Rick can say is, "I know," and pray it works.

I think of wet eyes, teeth, and spiders while we wait for his decision.

"You'll submit to a blood test." The scientist tells us. "That's the price of admission."

A breath leaves us all.

"We can—" Rick's nodding. "We can manage that."

That's it? A blood test?

I find myself grinning, and I tug on my Dad's hand. We look at each other. He's smiling, too, just a little. We all are. The scientist doesn't know it, but he's just saved our lives. We're tired and we're dirty and we've been through Hell these past couple days, but a blood test — We can manage that. We can manage anything.

"I left one door open. If you have stuff to bring in, do it now." He says, from his perch. "Once these doors shut, they don't open."

We tell him we understand.

This place is like a magical castle.

After we give up our blood, the scientist takes us on a tour. 

Jacqui was right. We got electricity. But apparently, we also got hot water.

If electricity's a myth, then hot water is a damn hoax. I can't wait to have a shower tonight. I used to hate showers, but that's just one of them things now that I can't believe I ever hated, like spinach. I been so hungry before that I'd dream about spinach. Glenn and Lori groan like they've bitten into a big, juicy steak when they hear 'bout the showers, and we all laugh. When I ask him, the scientist says that he isn't wearing his lab coat because he only wears it to make himself look cool. He says that now that we're here, he'll have to put it back on. It makes me giggle.

I run ahead with the other kids, and we all reach a long line of doors, where the scientist says we'll be staying.

The tour is complete!

We all pick rooms to stay in and then we unpack, like we're in a hotel, and it's exciting. None of us have been to a hotel in years.

"Hey, Harley!" Sophia pops her head out the next room over, holding a bar of soap. "Look! Soap!"

I hold out mine. "I got one, too!"

Behind Sophia, Carl pops his head out. "Me too!"

And behind him, like two little owls, Eliza and Louis appear. "Us, too!"

We dash back into our rooms. Me and my Dad's room got two double beds, and I ain't never had a double bed before, so I climb on it, and I jump up and down to test it out. It don't even squeak or nothin'. Dad watches me from where he's emptying one of our back packs.

As I try touch the ceiling, I tell him, "This place is awesome!"

"Harley, come down from there 'fore you crack yer head open." He orders, like a party-pooper.

I do what he says, 'cause I don't wanna ruin the day by getting spanked. "I'm gonna have a real-life shower."

"That's right." He shakes out the yellow shirt with the dinosaurs on it. He chucks it at my head, smirking. "Get ready, then."

I grab the brush that Sophia's letting me use first and a pair of purple pyjama pants from my Dad. I take myself into the bathroom. At first, the water's like straight lava on my skin, and I yelp. Dad asks if I'm alright, and then he comes in to fix the water for me. The lava settles back down, and I scrub and wash and sud myself up until I'm almost as red as a lobster. It's the best shower I've ever had. I was getting so sick of using baby wipes and river water to wash myself. When I step out of the real-life shower, the whole room is steamed up. I draw a smiley face into the mirror just 'cause I can, and then I brush out all my hair. I smell like strawberries. I dress in my cozy pyjamas and socks.

When I come out, my Dad re-does my buttons, 'cause apparently I did 'em all wrong. I stand between his knees while he re-orders 'em.

"He said there's a games room here." I smile.

"Maybe you can scope it out after dinner." Dad says. "You gotta be hungry by now, right?"

"Oh, I forgot 'bout dinner!" There's just too many wonders to keep track of in this place! "We gotta hurry!"

My Dad loops the last button.

"Come on, come on, come on!" I nag, pulling him off the bed and out the door.

"Damn." He chuckles. "People are gonna start thinkin' I ain't feedin' you."

"I bet there's gonna be steak!"

This is the best day ever.

We reach the CDC's little cafeteria, which is in total darkness to save energy, except for a spotlight above the biggest table. Makes it feel even more special. I hear clinking forks and plates, and I think these are the two happiest days I've ever had. Me and Dad take seats next to Carol and Sophia. As potato salad — Yes, potato salad. That's almost as good as soap — and greens and meat get passed around, I'm reminded of our fish fry. My Dad is here with me to enjoy it this time, and there are walls to protect us, instead of trees. We're clean. We're safe. We're alive.

"Just tell me when." Carol tells T-Dog as she pours him some wine, while everyone is getting settled in at the table.

Carol pours for a long time and T-Dog does not say when.

People start laughing.

T-Dog gives in and goes, "Okay, when, when, when."

"Thought I was gonna be there all night." Carol scoff-chuckles, sitting back down.

When I look around, I see one big family having dinner together, and I see people I'd almost forgotten about under all that dirt.

"Hey, after the past few days we've had, I think we deserve it." Rick's smiling, holding up his hands.

"I'll say." Lori snickers.

Dale suddenly stands, glass in hand. "How about we dedicate this meal to Harley?"

Rick puts down his napkin. "I think that's a perfect idea."

I giggle under all the attention as everyone rushes to agree, finding their glasses. I hide my face behind my Dad's arm. He peels himself away, smirking, and everyone's got something to say about my red face when I'm no longer hidden. I smack Carl when he tells me I look like a tomato, and everyone's doubled over with laughter, again. It's my favorite sound ever, I decide.

Before we can toast, my Dad butts in.

"Hang on. Old man, how's about that watch you carry around?" He asks. "It got a date on it?"

"I wish," Dale smiles, "But the battery died yesterday. Why? Is there something I'm missing?"

"I reckon it's almost July, right?" Dad looks around.

Is he gonna say what I think he's gonna say?

I start grinning.

Rick nods, "I reckon so. It's probably been about a month since everything went down."

"Harley was born in July. Twenty-second. Eight years ago. Ain't that right?" Dad ruffles my hair, and I giggle, 'cause I'm just so full of happiness that I feel like I'll never be anything else again. He raises his glass; wraps a hand around my shoulders. "Close enough, am I right?"

"Absolutely, that's close enough!" Lori shouts, clapping her hands; rushing for her glass. "My God, this is perfect!"

"We got ourselves a birthday dinner, here, people!" T-Dog whoops, raising his, too.

Rick lifts his glass above his head, and it's official. "To the birthday girl!"

"To the birthday girl!"

Clink, clink, clink.

More cheering. Two toasts in one day. I must be the luckiest girl in the whole, wide world. I bump my glass of water into Dad's glass on my right, and Sophia's on my left. After the scare with the scratches, this celebration means ten times more than a regular birthday would. There's no cake here, or number-candles, but I don't need any of that to make this moment special. I got Glenn singing an off-key Happy Birthday, and I got Jacqui giggling, God, shut that boy up, and I got Sophia hugging me, and I got another year and a whole lotta more days I get to live, with everyone at this table; with my Dad. And when Rick leans over the table, I even let him give me a high-five!

"Eight." Rick raises his eyebrows at me while he sits back down, pointing at me. "Almost double digits."

"You're almost my age!" Grins Carl.

"Good luck." Lori dramatically whispers to my Dad.

He gives me a look. "Listen to me, you ain't allowed to grow any more after this, okay?"

I can't help if I grow!

"Okay, Dad." I laugh. "I promise to be eight forever."

"Good girl." He says, gulping down more wine.

"Hold up." T-Dog sticks his palm out. "This is a birthday party. You know what that means, right? We need to hear at least one embarrassing story."

"Good idea." Jacqui gasps.

Dad makes a big show of scoffing. "Damn, which one you want? I got thousands."

What a traitor!

"I mean, we have all night, here." Shane shrugs, grinning like a little smart-ass. "I'm up for a story-time. How 'bout y'all?"

"Let's hear it," Morales gestures at my Dad.

"Alright." Dad sits back in his chair, crossing his arms. I try leaning over to cover his mouth, but he bats me away, and everyone is already laughing and the story ain't even started yet. "How 'bout— Okay. Okay. Damn, this is a good one. 'Bout when she was five, we bought Harley this skateboard—" Everybody's going, Oh God, 'cause they see where this is going. "Uh-huh. We took 'er down to the skatepark near our house, and there was a bunch of other lil' kids there — 'bout her age — and I'on know how she did it, but these kids were all convinced she was this master skater who was gonna show 'em how it's done. She was coachin' 'em, I think. Showin' off her new board. End of the day, she finally goes to show 'em a trick — 'Member, first day at this damn park — and everyone's watching and—" He claps his hands, smack. "Falls flat on 'er fuckin' face, in front of all of 'em."

Ugh, why'd he have to go and tell that story?

Rick covers his mouth 'cause he's trying not to laugh, 'cause I guess he values whatever dignity I got left but Shane, he's clappin' and trying not to spit his food out, 'cause he's actually a big smart-ass. I'm laughing behind my hands, like Sophia. Glenn's resting his forehead on the table, and he's shakin', so I guess he's laughing, too. When he sits upright, he's crying, and Jacqui's gotta beat his back 'cause he's choking a little bit.

"I'm alri—" He coughs. Then he keeps laughin', which makes it worse. "I'm alright."

"Hey, I ain't even fall that bad!" I defend myself.

He chugs Jacqui's water to save himself.

"Wait—" Lori's chuckling. "Five years old?"

"Yep," Dad goes back to eating. He's satisfied with the damage he's done.

"Pretty brave for that age." Lori tells me, putting on an I'm impressed face.

"Damn, that's pretty bad." T-Dog's shaking his head. "Sorry, girl, but I'm glad I asked, 'cause shit!"

"Leave the poor girl alone." Carol giggles, quietly.

Shane looks off into the darkness, pretending there's a crowd. "Anybody got a skateboard?"

"Oh, shut up." Andrea smiles. "Settle down, or Lori's gonna have to pull that photo out."

"May I ask a question?"

We're all so isolated in this pocket of happiness, celebrating the end of our troubles, that when the scientist speaks, I think we're all a little spooked. Smiles freeze and fade. Glasses lower. Heads turn. We're not the only people in the world, we're all realizing. We'd forgotten all about the reason we came here. That's what potato salad does to people, I guess.

The conversation dies off like a guillotine sliced it in half.

"What were you going to toast to?" The scientist asks, and his voice is like a soft, chilly breeze in a forest. I'm not even sure he was sitting there the whole time. Maybe he's supernatural, and he teleported. That makes me scared. "Before you figured out it was her birthday?"

And just like that, the dinner turns awkward. 

Rick clears his throat. "Well, if I'm being completely honest, here, Harley is the reason we came out to the city in the first place. I know I told you that nobody here was infected, but there were a couple days where... we weren't sure. Harley got scratched. We left looking for a cure."

The scientist's eyes roam over to my face, but then they don't leave.

"Now we're on the subject," Shane decides to break the silence, frowning, "How about you tell us what exactly happened here, doc?"

Rick mutters, "We don't have to do this right now, Shane."

"Wait a second." Shane sighs. "You said it yourself, just now. This is why we came all the way out here, right? Figure out what happened? Put all our eggs in one basket, and uh—" He laughs a laugh that tells me nothing is funny here. "Instead we found him. We found one man, talking in riddles. Why is that, you think?"

The scientist tanks the insult. "When things got bad, people just... left, to be with their families. The rest bolted."

I remember just how shocked I was at the size of this building when I first saw it creeping up the windows. It's way too much space for one man. There must have been hundreds of scientists working in here, and now it's just a shell. A cave for a lonely monster.

"Every last one?" Shane whispers, squinting; disbelieving.

The scientist falters, for just a moment, and I can see old pains on his face. "No. Some couldn't face leaving. They... opted out."

The tables goes from quiet to silent. Opted out. I know what that means. It's another one of them things adults say to butter up the truth, and it means killing yourself. I squeak, then, like I've been kicked in the ribs. I hide behind my Dad, who cradles the back of my damp hair, but you can't hide from words once they're in your head. Suicide. Dead, but not an accident — On purpose, with pills, or a gun, or a— a— a bridge. Something snotty gets caught in my throat like a fish-hook, and I'm crying now, at my own birthday dinner. Somebody drops their fork in defeat.

"There was a rash of suicides." Mutters the scientist, immune to his own story; numb. "In a matter of days, I was alone."

"Why didn't you leave?" Asks Andrea.

Carl is crying too, now. I wish I could make him feel better, just for a moment, but I can't.

"I just kept working." Smiles the scientist, but it's not right— It's just muscles, pulling his droopy face upward. "I just wanted to do some good."

Good.

The word reaches up into the ceiling, and leaves us at the bottom, sitting in its echo.

"There is no cure here." The scientist says.

The dinner is over.

Everything comes crashing down as fast as it went flying up.

We were on top of the world just a few hours ago. We were invincible. We had the news that I wasn't going to die in our veins, and then we had hot water and soap and potato salad, and each other. We had hotel rooms and a birthday dinner. But now we just have a dead end and a long list of regrets. There is nothing here for us besides showers, lights, and ghosts. I feel like a trapped animal. I'm a hamster in a maze, going around and around and around, and I can't get out. A rash of suicides. That thing I thought was hiding somewhere, it's this, and it's out, and I'm sorry we ever looked. Please don't let it be worse than it is out here, I remember, Please don't make us regret this.

After what feels like hours, the hallways I'm running down end. I see the game room.

I run inside and corner myself under the table. A cloth hides me from the world outside, and if I pretend hard enough, I can take myself right out of here and into a nice, safe pillow fort, instead. Like the ones I used to make back home. I can be someone else. If I'm in my head, I'm not here.

But then I hear the door open, and it's just a wooden table again, and I'm in the CDC.

"Harley?" It's my Dad, 'cause of course it is. I moan into my hands, crying so hard I'm not getting enough air. "You in here?"

I don't want to be found. I want to be lost.

The cloth lifts.

"Baby, what's wrong?" My Dad asks, but I know he already knows. How could he not know?

There are lots of words that remind me of my Momma, like sunshine, and cigarettes, and the worst — Suicide.

"Get out." I tell him, using my feet to push him away. "Get out."

I should've learnt my lesson back at the quarry, on that night I hit my Dad, but I don't care. I just wanna hurt something. I'm hurting. A rash of suicides. I can't stop hearing it, and I can't stop seeing it — Over and over again, the night on the bridge. Opted out. Suicide. Killing yourself. 

Pills, guns, ropes.

Bridges.

"Baby, I know." Dad's saying, grabbing my kicking feet. "I know. Come out. I don't want you thinkin' 'bout this, so come on out."

"I can't help it!" I sob, 'cause I really can't. Something that is too big for my body is happening to me, and I can't stop it.

"H— I know. Just come out." He's begging, and now he's not just holding my feet, he's pulling 'em; pulling me, out from underneath my hidey hole and into the world, even though I want to stay in here forever. He's trying so hard to bury something that's still alive; something that has teeth and jaws, and is eating me from the inside out. He don't wanna see it, and he don't wanna hear it, and he don't wanna deal with it. I wish he'd curl up in my make-believe pillow fort, and hide from the world with me. I wish he'd understand. "You don't gotta be under there. Come out, right now."

Some days I wanna pull my damn hair out.

He's getting angry again. He's holding himself back from something very nasty that lives inside him.

"No," I'm begging him back; begging him to just listen. "No, I don't wanna come out. I don't wanna—!"

I anchor myself to the table leg. We're an unstoppable force and an immovable object, colliding head on for the first time, ever, and it's a disaster. That night at the quarry was nothing.

Furious, my Dad rips the cloth off the table and boxes of puzzles go toppling over onto the floor, breaking into a million little pieces that used to be happily fused. Newly exposed, he easily ducks under and locks his hand around my wrist. I scream, and I close my eyes so I don't have to see my Daddy like this, 'cause it ain't him anymore. He pries my little fingers off the table, one by one by one, and ow, ow, ow, it really hurts. I'm yanked away, and then he's dragging me out by the ankles, shouting—

"Stop actin' like this. You ain't a baby." I hook myself onto a second leg, and he's wrestling with me all over again. "Stop! Mind yer damn father, girl!"

I'm not a baby, but I wish I was, 'cause we were happy back then.

"Stop!" I sob, kicking at him. "J— Leav— Just leave me alone!"

"I ain't leavin' you alone — You know why?" He's seething down to me. "'Cause you need a damn spanking. That's why."

I think back to an hour ago, when I thought I'd only ever be happy for the rest of my life. What a stupid thing to think.

Don't make it any worse, his voice is warning me, from all the times he's done this before.

But it can't get any worse.

In one big pull of strength, I'm forced out from underneath the table once and for all, where I felt safe and small and alone, into the light of the game room where I feel naked, again, for all to see. My face is raw and wet and hurt, and I think one of my buttons got torn off by my Daddy when he was grabbing for me, even though he was the one to fix them before dinner, and on that night in the RV, to show me he loves me. He yanks me to my feet by the armpits, 'cause I can't stand on my own no more, and he crouches to get in my face.

"This is your last fuckin' chance, and then I'm gonna have to take my belt off." He warns me.

"I miss Momma." I whimper.

His face softens, but it's gone so quick I'm sure I imagined it. "Harley," He grinds out, "Stop this."

"You killed her!" I cry, scared, but braver than I ever been at the same time. "You made Momma kill 'erself! You made 'er jump off that bridge!"

I tried so hard to be like my Daddy, but I can't. I can't hide things like he can.

I don't care if he belts me after. I just want him to know. I want him to know that I know, and that I ain't never gonna forgive him. I'd take a thousand beatings just so I could scream the same thing up at him, until my throat bleeds, until I'm nothin' but a voice, until my Momma comes back. People who kill themselves don't wanna come back, but maybe this time, if I was a good enough girl, she might want to. I'd get on my knees, and I'd beg her, and I'd say, Please Momma, I need you. Please Momma, please. Me and Daddy can't do it on our own. She didn't love my Daddy, and my Daddy hated my Momma. He never said it, but I always knew he did. I saw it when he dropped me off at her house; how he didn't wanna leave me with her. I heard people say my Momma was sick in the brain, and that she was a bad Mom, but I loved her.

My parents might be forever separated, but on my face, they are still together. I got my Daddy's flat mouth and my Momma's green eyes. I am proof that hate can create love. I don't feel so loved right now, though. I feel like I'm nothing. I feel like when my Daddy said he loved me, he was lying.

And there it is, my Daddy's hand going for his belt, 'cause I chose to say the worst thing I could think of.

I don't wanna get beat, but sometimes it don't matter what little girls want.

"I want you to think about the way you're speakin' to me." My Dad, the same one that was crying in my baby photo, shouts in my face. "I don't know why you gotta be like this, Harley. I don't know why you gotta make me do this. You were havin' such a good day."

"I'm sorry—" I'm sayin' now. "I'm sorry, Dad."

"You shoulda thought about that before you started bringing this shit back up again. After this, never again, okay?"

He pulls me down into his chest, yanking the back of my shirt up to the base of my neck. I wait for the whip, and the burning sting afterwards.

I can take it. I'll just close my eyes and wait for it to be over.

But before it can come—

"Woah! Hey!" A man's shout. "Hey, hey! Stop!"

The whip doesn't come. I can catch my breath. 

Under my Dad's arm, the one that's in the air, poised to beat me, I see a man in the doorway. I almost can't make him out, but there he is — It's officer Shane. The room seems to slap him in the face, like he can't believe what he's just walked into. He's scared to step inside, in case the moment breaks and my Dad chooses to beat me, anyway. Shane's a bastard cop, and it's his job to save people. I never thought I'd be needing saved from my Dad. I still don't think I need saving. I brought this on myself. I wish he'd go away, so it could be over with.

My Dad stands up, his whole body clenched with muscle ready to punch.

"I'm gonna ask you put that down, man." This is the first time I'm hearing Shane's police-man voice. "And to step away from her, okay?"

I feel embarrassed.

I'm kneeling on the floor, grabbing onto the side of the sofa, tryna hide myself again. I don't belong here. I don't want Shane to see me like this. I wanna be the little girl he caught frogs with, not a ball of hurt and tears. Suddenly, this isn't a games room anymore. It's a wolf's den, and I got two of 'em right in front of me, circling each other, ready to bite. I scuttle further into the corner, like if I shrink myself enough, I can just disappear into the floor.

"You ain't askin' me shit, officer." Dad whispers, real nasty. "Ain't no rules, no more. Not so tough, now."

"I'm not gonna ask you again, man." Officer Shane warns, stepping very slowly into room.

He moves toward us, inch by inch, like a man inside a lion enclosure.

"You don't gotta." Dad spits. "Door's right there."

"You're hittin' on little girls, now, Daryl." Shane huffs that mean laugh again. "Sorry, buddy, but that's my business. Come on. Step away."

If Shane had his gun in his holster, his hand would be on it. But we left all our weapons in the bedrooms before dinner. He stretches his fingers; tilts his head. I realize he don't need a gun. He's gonna fist-fight my Dad if he don't do what he says. My Dad, sensing this, chucks his belt on top of the broken puzzles, and stretches out his fingers, too. They're one wrong word away from beating each other to a pulp.

I wanna beg 'em to stop, but my voice is burrowed somewhere deep inside my body, and I can't reach it. 

"We don't have to do this, Daryl." Shane's half-way into the room, now. When did he get that close?

"Sure we don't." Dad snarls. "You gonna hit me? Go ahead."

Shane shakes his head. "That's not somethin' I wanna do, man. But you know I will. Step away."

A hiccup I didn't give permission to leave my mouth cuts through the room. Shane glances at me. I don't know who I'm supposed to root for.

"'Step away', huh? Step away from my own daughter?" My Dad scoffs.

Shane glances from me to my Dad, and I can see him start to realize that this angle won't work on my Dad. He holds out his hand. Something about the way he's looking at me is saying, You don't have to be afraid, but I am, and I don't wanna move. I feel like this is my fault. I watch as he flicks his fingers a little, brows raised. "How 'boutchu come over here, Harley, huh?"

Dad blocks me with his body before I can even think about it. "Hey, don't you fuckin' speak to her."

His eyes are back on my Dad. "Just tryna do what's best for everybody, here, Daryl."

My Dad cracks one of his knuckles. "Nah. Nah, I don't think you are. You got it all twisted."

"Don't think I do."

"Yeah?" Dad goads, and every second, I wait for one of them to swing. I can't stand it. "What is it you think you walked in on, then, huh?"

I think my Dad's waiting for the swing, too, 'cause he's so confident that he'll win that he wants officer Shane to try him. He wants to punish him. He wants to show him what happens when you insult a Dixon, 'cause protecting the name is more important than protecting his own body. I think about the way my Dad busted Rick's cheek; How Ronnie's Momma ain't recognise him when my Daddy was done with him.

Shane must be thinkin' the exact same thing, 'cause he starts goading my Dad right back.

"I think I walked in on you beatin' the shit outta your own kid, first of all." Shane shrugs, like it ain't his fault it's fact, and he keeps going when he notices my Dad's breathing get heavy. He's enjoying this. A smile splits his face. "I think we been worrying 'bout Jim this whole time, we been worrying 'bout the wrong man. How 'bout that? You wanted us to be so focused on him, we forget about the real monster."

"That right?" Dad side-steps Shane when he reaches the edge of the coffee-table.

"Sounds right to me, man." Shane says. "Lemme ask you this, Daryl. What is it you think I walked in on?"

I wonder where everyone else is. I wonder if at any second, one of them is gonna walk in.

"It don't matter what I think." Dad shouts, suddenly, and I shriek like I've been struck by the belt. "It's my damn business. It's my damn daughter."

"Yeah, I betchu wish it was." Shane huffs out a chuckle. "Don't want your secret gettin' out, right?"

Shane's like a wriggly little worm, needling my Dad where he don't wanna be needled.

My Dad's patience finally runs out.

He rears back to swing at Shane's head, and his fist is caught and twisted, and I hear Shane grunt in pain, and this is it, so I close my eyes—

Wait.

My eyes are open. That don't make no sense. Why is it so dark? Why can't I see?

I realize that the fight has stopped, and I feel like we've all forgotten about it and are waiting for something to happen.

There's a single murmur throughout the room.

"Was that the power?"

Author's Note.

Cliff-hanger! Mwahahha.

So, obviously, the last scene in this chapter is pretty brutal. I'd like to share why I made the decision to have Daryl act this way, because it could be a shock for some.

For starters, I think it's plausible for a number of reasons. Merle being a bad influence on Daryl, his unhealed childhood trauma and how that affects how he parents his child, and his unhealthy habit of bottling up his emotions, etc.

It's not pretty, I know, and I kind of hated writing that scene, but that brings up my second point. For the sake of the themes and arcs I want to give this story, it was necessary. This story just couldn't exist if it didn't have this scene. I've got, like, three different key subplots linked to it. Maybe you can even guess what they are, because two of them have been hinted at/set up already. They're only going to get more prominent from here on out.

So that's the explanation for anybody who wanted or needed it. You'll see all this play out in the coming chapters, anyway, but I just wanted to provide this in the mean time. :)

Rant over! Phew. Everybody take a sigh of relief.

On a more positive note, everything else in this chapter was a total joy to write! These poor guys deserve some happiness 😌

Hope you enjoyed reading, and as always, please consider sharing your thoughts! Sending love :)

[somethingmissingthiswaycomes]

I just read a post I would have liked to reblog for some points, but not for others — so I think I'll just muse about it in my own post.

The post was about the dichotomy of TME and TMA — terms I at first accepted without thought and then began to criticize and eventually grew annoyed with, then saw them as a straight up red flag because of how big the center circle of the Venn diagram seems to be between people who use those terms regularly online and people who use them to disparage trans people who were assigned female at birth. The crossover with people who use insults like "theyfab" seemed to be pretty big too. And it's inaccurate of course; you can't say anyone is transmisogyny exempt based on an innate aspect of their identity. And people who use TME as an insult (seemingly anyone who used it at all) seem to all be hateful about transmascs having terms like transandrophobia to describe their experiences.

But the post that made me muse right now started out saying that yes, it's not precise, it's not fully accurate, but there's something experienced in perpetuity by transfemmes, assigned male at birth, that isn't experienced by anyone who can convincingly assert that they're not trans women — and TMA is trying to reach for that, and transmisogynists wouldn't grant us any language to describe our experiences.

I've been wrong a lot about fundamental things, and realizing where I've been wrong tends to start with a feeling that there's something I'm trying to reject, because it's uncomfortable to me or violates my previous worldview. Learning I was trans, learning about plurality, the process of noticing transandrophobia within the trans community... and long before that, when I lost the faith I'd been raised in and came to recognize it as highly damaging. It's deeply unpleasant for these shifts to happen.

I've been getting a feeling like that lately, but I wasn't sure where it was placed exactly. Each time I notice a problem with my worldview, I get more cautious about what possible new problems could crop up. It makes things, well, more uncomfortable.

Anyway, this one post I'm mulling over phrased things in a way that made me start looking more closely at what it is I've been avoiding. Because my mistrust of people who talk about TMAs and TMEs came alongside a rising pride and solidarity in transmasculinity, and a frustration with people who deny the trans community language by calling us "transandrophobia truthers" and other closed-minded, bigoted nonsense. (It's so fucking frustrating.) So... I haven't been looking for discussions about the terms TMA/TME outside of the hateful context it was showing up for me in.

And this post I'm mulling over mentioned requiring language to talk about experiences, and that clicked. It clicked with me that, while there are a whole lot of people playing boys v girls 2.0 in all this, there's an underlying need to be able to discuss the unique experiences that come with every aspect of who and what we are — and we're trying to categorize, categorize, categorize.

Part of what made me decide not to engage with the post that made me start talking about this is that the OP brought up the idea of transfeminine people who were assigned female at birth... and how that's, to them, a ridiculous idea. The thing is, it's not, and accepting that is part of not overcategorizing. It's an unusual thing, but it's real, and it can mean different things. You can't restrict the type of people who can exist.

But it's true that there are experiences specific to one's assigned gender (like AMAB) and to one's physiological reality associated with it that, in an intersection with a specific or adjacent actual gender (like trans woman, transfeminine, or transneutral with perceived femininity), are important to recognize as, for the most part, unique.

My ability to be specific here breaks down, though, because I know from reading the words of certain intersex people that a lot of the intersection of transfeminine and perisex AMAB isn't actually unique unless you ignore intersex people. I don't think I can say more than that. I don't think I can get nuanced enough.

But I can use an "opposite" example to try to draw a parallel. Because there is an AFAB trans experience that isn't shared by perisex trans people who were assigned male at birth: the risk of pregnancy, and specifically restrictions on bodies with uteruses. That's a difference that TERFs like to prey on to drive a wedge in the trans community. They like to convince us that they're the only ones who care about that part of our lived experiences. That is wrong. And we shouldn't let that difference divide us.

In the same vein, we shouldn't let that difference being something that could divide us turn the topic into one that trans people who have uteruses need to sacrifice in order to stand together with trans people who don't. I think that's contributed to transmasculine erasure. The assertion that it must be so would fall under the umbrella of transandrophobia, a much needed term for the sake of discussing that.

Now back to transmisogyny affected/exempt. An argument I've often shared and agreed with and been fervent about is that it's just recreating the AFAB/AMAB binary. And I have seen people argue that no it's not, it's different, but in recognizing how often it's used that way by bad actors, I decided to ignore that argument. I'd say it doesn't matter; it may as well be that.

I think I've been wrong. And I've known I was wrong, in the back of my mind, for a while. My initial acceptance of the TMA/TME dichotomy had me making that same argument, so it felt like something I had moved beyond. Now I'm letting myself look at it more closely, I'm coming to a less accepting-it-on-faith understanding of the argument.

I'm also forming a new way of explaining my own experiences as a genderfluid person. Hopefully doing so will help to articulate what I'm thinking;

I am, currently, TME. Not in the literal sense that I don't experience transmisogyny at all, but in the sense of, "I have a body that allows me to avoid and avert transmisogyny directed explicitly at my person." I'm affected by transmisogyny in a lot of ways I've been working through for some time now, and it's for that reason that I still await better terms for this concept—but using these terms as I believe good faith actors do, while I'm not exempt from transmisogyny in general, I am TME.

But I won't always be.

I am a genderfluid person who was assigned female at birth. I started testosterone a few years back, and then I stopped because I wasn't sure how far I wanted to take it. I've been coming to terms with the fact that I need to go further and I may have to be on HRT indefinably to be able to be my full, real self... but I'm still also a woman. And it will cause me dysphoria if I can't present as a woman at times when my body has been fully affected by testosterone.

I don't know if I'll be able to be stealth in any direction. I will be affected by transmisogyny in a way I'm not right now. The difference between how I'm affected by transmisogyny now and how I will be then can, at the moment, be communicated with "I'm TME now, but I'll be TMA when I transition."

And that terrifies me, honestly. I had recognized that terror as being me internalizing transmisogyny, but not as me being afraid of it. I know I'll be more comfortable with myself, but...

The forms of transmisogyny experienced specifically by people who are perpetually perceived as male (or "supposed to be male") while presenting as female are more scary than what I experience now.

And that is worth being able to talk about.

And that is worth having a term for.

And I suppose "TME" and "TMA" are the terms people are using right now, at least online. Imprecise language is something we have to work around sometimes.

I do hope that the discussion can evolve language that doesn't so easily allow bad actors to use otherwise potentially useful terms as a weapon of lateral bigotry.

And, in general, I hope the discussion can move in a direction that discourages that more by rejecting separation of trans people into boxes based on AGAB without erasing experiences that come with AGAB. Categories are good and useful to a point — but not as boxes so much as colors we're painted with. You can't split people into groups based on any one category they're colored with without forcing some people within those groups to de-prioritize something else they are.

...

This feels like it could be a draft for a real good blog post, but I know I won't post it if I wait and try to rewrite things later, so it'll have to be the finished thing.

It's been a while since I tried to add to the conversation like this. Gonna turn my anons off in case of problems. I am OUT of spoons and won't be able to respond to any opinion about this, but feel free to say things anyway if you're nice.

[yoonia]

Last Line Tag

Tagged by @lo1k-diamonds | thank you so much, love! And I know that I was tagged by a few others before while I was offline or on break so I guess here it is lol

Rules: Share the last line you wrote and tag the same number of people as the words in the line.

I have a few WIPs opened which I've been working on back and forth today, so I'll share from each one. Maybe I should share a bunch of snippets/longer lines instead while I'm at it to make up for my absence lately:

From Bedroom Hymns [myg]

“There you are, little dove.”  You briefly close your eyes, relishing on the shudder that his deep voice brings. This isn’t an imagination, you muse to yourself as you open your eyes to see Yoongi walking across the bridge. The white mist formed by the flowing water beneath him breaks away with each step that he makes.   “You’re late.” Too many long days, three different trips late. “I almost believed that I wouldn’t be so lucky to see you today before I leave.”

From Ever A Never After [ksj; jjk]

You suck a deep breath, and Seokjin has no idea why the sound you make pierces straight deeply into his chest. Then you make it worse when you speak with an innocent, helpless voice of yours, “Anyway, you are right, Sir. I don’t have anything with me. I left all my gold coins back home, since I thought I wouldn’t be needing it today with the ceremony and all.”  Again, dread fills his chest. “Gold coins,” he groans under his breath with a grimace. He closes his eyes, trying to find that sense of calmness deep inside him once again before it slips away. “All right. Breathe.” 

From Hot Mess [kth]

“Thank you for your concern,” he says, “though I’d much prefer to discuss them with you. Preferably in private, where we can be thorough.”  Somehow, his request unpleasantly tickles your brain, and the sour mood you felt returns. But you hide it with a forced smile and an overly sweet voice when you speak to him again. “I wish I could. Unfortunately, I’m going to need to do some minor adjustments with our setup today and I would like to get things ready before we can start taking photos.”  “I see. That’s a shame,” he mutters with feigned remorse. “Then I guess I’ll have to wait until later to see you.” 

From Chance Encounter [DPR Ian]

“What are you doing to me?”  “Returning the favour,” he says, giving you a quick kiss on the lips before turning away. “You’ve been driving me crazy lately, so it’s time to make you feel how I’ve been feeling.” His words fade into a deep grunt as his lips descend, pressing against your chin before he starts kissing down the column of your throat. 

From Blood Moon Rising [pjm]

“You—”  Pulling himself up from the crashing waves, Hyun positions himself behind a pointy rock to hide as he shifts back to his human form. Only partly, however, as only his long legs appear to replace the fishtail, leaving the twin rows of his sharp fins still visible on his skin, blending into the skin of his thighs.  Lowering one knee on the ground, Hyun remains behind the rock to conceal his nudity. A brief moment passes before he slowly lifts his head. His eyes are glowing in silver as he returns Lani’s soft gaze, the gill slits appearing on the sides of his neck and lower ribcage are pumping with every breath that he takes as he slowly adjusts being on land. His hands, still in the form of a pair of talons, rest over his bent knee as he formally greets the Vampire before him.  “My name is Hyun, the son of Hirae, the former head priest of Siren’s Den,” he introduces himself with a deep voice, soft snarls coming out with each word. His sharp dagger-like teeth peek through the seams of his lips as he speaks. “I was sent here by Lord Jimin to retrieve you, Lady Lani.” 

From Alpha's Inferno [knj]

A mate bond is maddening simply by being present. This bond, awakened after a long period of time, has continued to grow stronger, binding their souls together before they even have any chance to fight against it.  “Why are you fighting it, Alpha?” the pretty vampire asks him, and Namjoon can already feel his resolve dwindling at the sound of her voice. He makes no move as Lani steps closer, her movement graceful and slick. Like a predator, yet enticing and captivating at the same time that he cannot look away. “Is it because I’m one with the enemy?”

(from the two last snippets, I think it becomes obvious why I keep saying I needed to write these two together lol)

Tagging some friends: @beomcoups @shadowkoo @caelesjjk @taegularities @bangtans-momma and whoever wants to do this. tag me so I can see what you're working on :')

[tinababeh]

My name is Brutalism!

I'm going to play a paused and ongoing free thought, letting one of my active daydreams and shower musings flow aloud.

~Becoming unbound~

When I say I long for someone with wanderlust, perhaps what I truly mean is that I am ready to embrace a profound connection in a new way. Having been disillusioned before, which is sometimes necessary for growth, I have evolved into someone who can open herself to the complex capacity of an new level of intimacy while freely paving an individual path to happiness. I secretly yearn to take off with someone who works from home like I do or is able to travel and expand their horizons as I can. Together, we could visit the most beautiful places and explore each other, ourselves, and the rich cultures around us while embracing individual expansion. However, this travel dream is only a small part of what I truly desire. I want my partner to metaphorically grow wings and flies alongside me—freely loving and taking up space with bliss. I seek those who genuinely appreciates deep colors and expression. Financially secure and ready to awaken further, I often ask myself why I don't just pursue this subset of my dream. It feels like I'm one gentle shove away from embracing this adventure. Perhaps this someone would even be the instigator or the nudge I need. Maybe I long to be found, but I know the best of us always appear when we are not looking.

I've started many passion projects that are evolving well, bringing me joy, but my dreams continue to expand. My dear friend and one of my true soulmates, Raven (Julia), embodies innovation, emotion, and honesty—inspiring me to take larger risks lately. Surrounding myself with like-minded individuals has allowed me to grow in ways I never imagined. People like her have opened my mind in ways I haven't felt in so long, and I am starting to better trust my own niche desires and aspirations. The image of my dreams is becoming much clearer and I've healed in places I had no idea were wounded until I met someone like her. She looks at me and holds a mirror for me. She is so brilliant and successful that I can only be honored to have her look at me with such love and admiration. She is helping me see that I am worthy, that I do radiate beautifully, and she has truly helped me heal on this self-love journey of mine. I confidently crave to rise to the occasion and reach my full potential now—ever-changing, ever-learning, and growing. All I want is to radiate warmth, love, and kindness with everyone around me. The world is cruel enough, so I want to be brave and fight back by embracing myself unapologetically for the first time fully like this.

We often exchange hours of philosophical voice memos, imagining ourselves embodying the pirating free adventure and exploration mindset, taking on the journey jokingly like pirates to find better worlds. She possesses greatness and passion in a way that inspires me endlessly. She not only holds double full-time positions as a VP and lead scientist at two major companies, but she is also creating patents to start her own company soon, where she will be the CEO (what a badass). Despite all her achievements, she speaks of love, passion, and leaving a kind mark on this world. She has restored my faith in people of her caliber and has truly reminded me of the beauty of being on a curious path toward one's own unique voice.

She introduced me to the architectural style of brutalism, encouraging me to embody its strength and resilience. We often remind each other that we are not 'eto nado sn'esti,' but that our name is BRUTALISM! This mantra goes much deeper than my free-flow would elaborate on at this time.

For so long, I felt the need to be smaller or destroy parts of my essence to make others happy because my greatness was often seen as 'painful', or I was told it was painful by some who claimed to love me and want to 'fix' me. When I look back, I am not mad, but I realize and ask, why was that painful? It was because they wanted control and did not reflect with empathetic eyes-their feelings always were first and their mistakes always forgotten to them. When I realized this, I was not mad or angry. I forgive them in the way I forgive my own mistakes too. How can I ever expect change and deep love if I latch on to anger? They too are living for the first time and if anything, it wasn't always bad. I know they all must have cared deeply about me as well as I did for them. I just don't need to choose that negativity anymore and will not choose that willingly ever again. I will always love them and wish them well. We are not all just bad or good; we are complex beings. I find peace in loving from afar, and those I am up close with, we expand beautifully. There is no room for refracting insecurities from a mirror not seen. I no longer allow attraction to those who wish me harm or at least now my eyes are wide to them. It is freeing. I feel so blessed to experience firsthand what kindness and love looks like and blessed that I now can give that to myself too.

My light, my greatness, and my radiating passions should have never been seen as a bad thing. I am learning that I just didn't have the right people around me who loved themselves. I understand wanting to create a safe, loving haven with someone, and I too crave a safe, loving place which I create often. But to label toxicity and pressures to be molded into someone's fantasies of you as love is blasphemous. That is not very deep or brave; it is cowardice and weak. We are all one step away from letting our best side take over or succumbing to our insecurities. This is a choice we all need to evolve to a level of self-awareness to make clearly.

My path has been riddled with mistakes and loss, but I choose to live in my truest and kindest nature. This is my favorite version of myself, and I finally feel brave enough to be me at my fullest. I used to feel like I had to shadow myself or cover myself with shame, but now I want to embrace the mess and the embarrassment. I want to be my most human loudly. Lately, I have just wanted to genuinely express more and walk with less stoic paces. Expressing myself in all these ways while being embraced for it—well it feels so fucking good. I am vibrating with my own energy and could not be more grateful to be alive.

Having experienced wells of darkness, I now deeply crave to hold on to and explore the goodness in life. I feel myself blooming and taking space in a way I have always wanted. I only want to love someone in a way that frees them rather than cages them—this is the only version of love or friendship I'll ever accept again or want to provide. Growth mindsets and the freedom to grow in love are incredibly attractive to me. Greatness, gentleness, and kindness are so unbelievably sexy.

I have many people I love already in my life, but only a handful have the capacity to let me expand alongside them. I cherish these individuals and am fiercely loyal to them and their desired growth. I see their genuine light, and I am inspired to be my own light as well. There is never any jealousy or bitterness—there is no place for that in true greatness. Life has been so chaotically beautiful and unhinged lately despite the continuous parallel pains. Honestly, my favorite memories have always been full of deep laughter, tears, and bright smiles (even sometimes through the tears). I choose to keep evolving, growing, and remaining steadfast in my unique expression. I believe if I do this, I can further saturate the bliss I seek.

I still love those who have mistreated me and I do not plague my mind with thoughts of revenge or pain ever. I truly miss them and still hold a place within myself that creates a safe space to connect if they ever truly change and evolve. I still see their potential and I am thankful for our time together. Although I don't linger on this mindset, I instead place that spot away in the back of my mind and focus on lighting my own path without restrictions. The world is cruel enough, so I want to be brave and fight back by embracing myself unapologetically for the first time along with those around me. I have changed, or more so, I feel awakened. I have woken up to so much that was left dormant for too long and I am excited to see where this enlightenment will take me next.

I have never been happier to be the me that I am now. I look forward to this next chapter with a heart full of promise, confidence, and love. The little me would be proud of the woman I am now. Here's to the journey ahead, embracing every moment and every possibility.

It feels so good to be unbound and let thoughts come out more freely. A small glimpse and release. Assume that I am still learning and assume it is safe to do so as well.

[troutfur]

Tonight is Writer's Choice night because I said so and because I binged the whole of the new book over the course of my day off and it gave me ideas.

Tomorrow we're back to taking prompts from the audience, in accordance with my guidelines, but as a clarification since I've got more than a handful: Mapleshade's Vengeance is in fact one of the books I haven't read. And I'm not sure it's a book I even want to read. After the whole "yeah it's totally a good idea to write an article telling kids that if they don't jump into a flooding river to save someone else they're going to Hell, just get social media to shut up" fiasco from last year it just has left a sour taste in my mouth.

Preamble out of the way, enjoy Sunbeam's ThunderClan polycule, feat. pfurr dynamic worldbuilding:

On the night Nightheart went missing, Sunbeam went into her new nest feeling dejected. The whole of ThunderClan had been buzzing with a celebratory atmosphere but hearing her mate had left had her double-guessing herself at her decisions so far. The cryptic reassurances from StarClan Squirrelstar conveyed to to her had for sure not had remotely close to the intended effect. With no clear reason why he was gone she was left wondering if Nightheart’s wenwi --his maternal grandmother-- was even telling the truth or just trying to save face for her awbyyo --her bloodline.

As she settled in to sleep, Sunbeam felt a paw prodding at her side. “Hey.” Sunbeam raised her face to see the tortoiseshell face of Nightheart’s sister.“I know you haven’t officially joined the pfurr, but... would you like to sleep with us? At least until my brother’s back.”

“I...” Sunbeam was a bit taken aback. She turned her face towards two other cats cuddled with each other, their faces expectantly towards her. Those must be her empf --her nestmates-- Sunbeam guessed. “I thought Nightheart slept alone. He did mention you but with how he spoke I thought he was a--”

“Oh no, no!” the molly was quick to interject. “StarClan no, he’s not nearly bad enough to be a hug’koo.” In their language that was a word meant ‘cuckoo’, but it could also mean a cat that had been expelled from a nest. “He just has fallen into the habit of sleeping on his own. Being made a warrior late and all.”

“But he left his Clan to court me,” Sunbeam protested. Having let that slip out she wanted to swallow back her tongue. Berryheart would certainly have thought that an offense grave enough and she hoped upon reconsidering Finchlight wouldn’t agree with that view.

“And he’s not going to lose his place in his birth pfurr from that,” Finchlight said with a shrug. “You just try again the other way ‘round. The elders may say it’s disrespectful but I’ve always thought it was jus the smart thing to do.”

“It’s not like I have a sibling to share a nest with who I care about offending,” Sunbeam mused, rising to her paws as she followed Finchlight back to her nest.

“Really?” she asked. “An ul-arramew? You don’t very much act like one.”

“No, it’s not like that,” Sunbeam said. “I have two brothers in fact. But one of them took a SkyClan mate and the other was not very pleased. And so...”

“Oh,” Finchlight said. “I’m sorry I pried.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Sunbeam said. “What’s the courtship period for if not for meeting your soon-to-be mate?” The word she used there was empf for in their language there’s no distinction between one’s romantic partner and any other cat one share a nest with.

“Settle in,” Finchlight offered as she carved her space between alongside the other two cats, a golden tabby tom and a pale brown molly, who were already settled on their nest. “It should be enough for all four. We had it expanded for Nightheart forever ago but since he insists on being by his lonesome.”

“Hey,” Sunbeam greeted with a flick of her tail which the other cats responded to in kind. Though everyone in the nest was cozy and fit rather neatly the atmosphere didnt’ seem yet conducive for actually going to sleep. “So... Nightheart never mentioned any other empf other than her sister. When did you all start courting?”

Myrtlebloom and Bayshine went wide-eyed in surprise for a moment before clarity dawned on them and they gave an amused purr.

“We didn’t court,” Bayshine --the tom-- clarified. “We’ve just... kinda always shared a nest.”

“Pryyp?” Sunbeam piped up.

“Our wipfurrs” --that means mothers-- “were always close. And Sparkpelt had not been in the right mindset to nurse or take care of Finchy or Nighty towards their first moon or so. So they nursed with us and the habit of sharing a nest just kinda stuck.”

“Did he never tell you?” Finchlight asked.

“No, he didn’t,” Sunbeam said in surprise. “That’s lovely of her and lovely of you. When he spoke of ThunderClan he always stressed other things.”

“Typical,” Bayshine said with an eyeroll. “Such a complainer that Nightheart. There was once towards the beginning of our apprenticeship when he...”

The nest continued gossiping about their missing member until sleep overtook them. As she drifted off into sleep, with her head rested on the soft fur of her soon-to-be empf she began to give off a purr. There may be a piece of their nest missing but now she could work on loving and being loved by the rest of them.

[akolnoix]

I've been following for a bit and I was wondering about your p4 au(?)/rewrite that you have going on honestly seeing you p4 posting has been making me think about it a lot more recently. Also you have a lovely art style!

thank you! it's honestly nothing very concrete, just an assortment of musings that i play around with in my mind for fun... might as well post some of my ramblings (apologies that it's long and a mess)

-im kinda obsessed with trying to make accomplice ending work? the ending itself in p4g is pretty great (seeing the "yu has forged a bond that cannot be broken" text you get for max social link is sooooo good) and fits thematically, it's just that it has like NO proper buildup to it to make it feel even remotely plausible.

so i'm thinking you'd have to really go out of your way to get it. like in addition to maxing out adachi's SL, you can't advance any other characters' SL past like rank 3 or something early on, and you have to select certain dialogue options (like the original game has so many mean/detached responses you can pick to be a dickhead lol), you have to refuse optional hangouts with your friends. and Then you have to choose to not reveal him. so through consistently refusing to truly connect with/care about the people around you, the protag can somewhat reach a similar worldview to adachi, and conceivably relate to him.

-izanami brings up the tv world also being a product of outside perception, but the actual implementation of it in the game feels messy and often like it's just there as a way to give reason for the shadows desiring transgressive things for shock value without committing to them being real aspects of the characters (like, how kanji's shadow is extremely stereotypically gay not just in mannerisms but in overtly showing interest in men, but in kanji's acceptance+future appearances they make sure to assert that the real kanji is not actually gay)

so i've been kinda toying with the idea that instead of the shadows as presented in p4, there would be like multiple fractured shadows in conflict? like i think it would be neat to play more off the tension between how the characters are perceived by the town vs their repressed selves, idk

-i've been turning naoto's arc around in my head a lot over the years... like the easiest thing to do would be transplant the existing (attempted) narrative to a trans woman naoto. but i also want to do right by canon naoto, who sees himself as a man, desires to be one, only gives up on that because he believes he can't become one, and gets treated like dogshit by the narrative for it. so lately i've drifted to the harder challenge of working out the logistics to make a satisfying+believable arc for trans man naoto. i've got concepts but i don't have enough worked out in this regard yet to talk about here.

-im autistic and rise has always read as such to me, so i'm being self-indulgent and making that an overt aspect of her arc. i grew up subconsciously masking my autism, and it wasn't until i experienced autistic burnout just after graduating highschool that i discovered just how much of myself i had been suppressing, and how much was constructed. it was like i had never known my true self until age 18, or noticed just how badly that repression hurt me.

so um. you might say i saw a lot of myself in rise. she's got a slightly different scenario, but still a pretty autistic one. a child with no friends because everyone thinks they're strange, who decides to learn how to be Normal in hopes of obtaining any human connection. but because she can't be herself, the connections she does make don't feel genuine. her becoming an idol specifically is really fantastic thematically, a career all about commodifying not just your body or talents but your very personality, for a girl highly manufactured on every level to appear Normal.

for the brief period you see her in person before her shadow, rise practically has a flat affect and monotone, with everyone commenting on how different she is from her idol persona, and i'd like to actually retain that as an aspect of her character. i'd like to shift her arc to being about relearning that aspect of herself, and allowing herself to be that. even if just among friends. her idol persona is still part of her (she made it after all, and it can be useful), but she was harming herself by thinking it was all she should be.

i've always hated her going back to being an idol (especially the way they executed it ugh) but it might be nice if she stuck with music...

-yosuke internalized homophobia arc is a gimme

-naturally a major aspect is in the differences btw a playthrough as yu narukami vs femc. as an ex-delinquent she experiences more hostility from the general populace and dojima. oh and i don't care for super self-inserty protags so yu and masami have more established personalities+history+etc.

i imagine the narukami sibling dichotomy is that yu tries to be perfect and masami intentionally disappoints (opposite attention-seeking responses to their ambiguously distant parents), and in their trip to inaba yu takes the opportunity to let loose, while masami reigns in the delinquent behavior (because dojima will actually react to what she does). and they both benefit from the power of friendship etc etc

-sometimes i enjoy daydreaming about a "cross-dressing" sequence that's actually fun. where the crew hang out in yu's room or something and try on each other's stuff for fun. and chie gets a buzz cut

-while it's very true that women can be bigots, that p4 claims that kanji would think that men are more accepting of gender nonconformity in men than women is something just. utterly detached from reality. it makes more sense that he thought there was no possibility of acceptance from boys so he never tried, but he thought there was a chance with girls but was rejected by them too, so he distances himself from everyone.

and i think kanji can be gnc AND gay. for many people there is a real fear of stereotype, of reinforcing them, but that repulsion is misplaced. stereotypes are bad when they are used to dehumanize, but to be a effeminate gay man, a fat butch lesbian, a trans woman with a beard, are not bad things to be. and i think it'd suit kanji to have that sort of conflict, and metatextually to take those aspects of canon that were so negatively presented and transform them

and i think it would suit his love of cute things to eventually start dressing cutesy.

-i've definitely got more in my brain i could say or i forgor but this post is long enough

[hockeylvr59]

Here With Me Part 32 || Taylor Makar

Author’s Note: Taylor and Kelsey have an enjoyable morning before Tracy and Cale arrive at the lake and Cale being a drama-king leads to an evening dock talk for Taylor and Kelsey. FC: Marina Laswick (@marooshk on instagram).

A/N2: It's my birthday and though I've had no muse to write lately I've had this one banked so why not.

Warnings: smut, past emotional abuse // Word Count: 6,479

~~~~~~

Thirty One

The bedrooms in the lake house did not have room darkening curtains so Kelsey stirred as soon as the sun started rising above the horizon. Unlike when they had gone to sleep, only Kelsey was still on her side, her head on Taylor’s shoulder as he sprawled out on his back. Her arm was still draped across his body and her palm rested lightly over his abs. Unconsciously her brain sought out her favorite spot, even if there wasn’t going to be hair growth back quite yet, and instead was greeted by the tented fabric of his boxers. 

A spark of curiosity filled her and she carefully lifted the covers to see that Taylor’s dick was indeed awake even if he was not. Letting the blankets fall, she slowly slid her hand back down, grazing her fingers against the soft skin of his stomach along his waistband. Slipping her fingers under the elastic, she continued to tease gently, gradually sliding further south. 

Hearing a groan fall from Taylor’s lips, Kelsey paused her movements waiting to see if she would get any other reaction from her boyfriend. When she didn’t, her fingers continued their teasing movements, grazing against the growing stubble of Taylor’s pubic hair. Exploring a few inches further south caused her fingers to bump lightly against the base of his dick and Kelsey didn’t hesitate in wrapping her fingers around his length, jerking slowly. 

He was so warm, solid, and heavy in her palm and Kelsey closed her eyes just focusing on the feel of him. 

Suddenly, the shoulder that had been propped up by Taylor’s body hit the bed as her boyfriend rolled from being partially under her, to slumped over her, his dick now trapped between their bodies since her hand had released him with the shock of the movement. For a moment he didn’t move but then he raised his head, his mouth connecting with hers in a series of sloppy, lazy kisses. As they kissed, Taylor ground his hips down into her body, his dick rubbing against her where she wanted him most. 

Needing more contact, Kelsey slipped her hands under Taylor’s boxers again, this time palming the firm ass all his hockey training had given him. She hadn’t intended any of this when she had aimlessly started touching him, however, she couldn’t deny the way her underwear was becoming soaked with arousal, feeling him between her hips and kissing her with full tongue. 

With her whole body tingling, Kelsey needed more and twisted her hands to try and push the boxers from Taylor’s body unsuccessfully. Frustrated, Kelsey whined into Taylor’s mouth, wordlessly expressing her need for him. Pulling back just a breath, Taylor spoke against her lips. 

“Should I get a condom?” 

“Please.” Kelsey agreed, needing him inside her. 

Kissing her for another thirty seconds or so, Taylor pressed up off of her and slipped out from under the covers. As he moved toward his bag, he slipped the boxers from his hips, letting them pool on the floor at his feet. Revealed fully to her eyes, Kelsey admired every inch of him as he bent over to dig through his bag. She had to be the luckiest girl on the planet. 

That sentiment only grew as he turned to face her showing off exactly what she was about to get. 

“Want you.” Kelsey murmured, shifting up onto her knees to face him as he stood at the side of the bed. Though they shared a few need filled kisses, Kelsey realized that she was missing the additional intimacy of skin to skin contact and reached down, quickly pulling her sleep shirt off over her head. Now when she kissed him, her breasts pressed against his bare chest making everything feel just that much better. 

After tossing the condom packet and a bottle of lube further onto the bed, Taylor's hands slipped to the back of Kelsey’s thighs. In the blink of an eye, he had lifted her to wrap her legs around his waist and had carefully laid her back on the bed. That quick flash of speed was replaced by the languid pace he’d been moving at all morning and he kissed her again, occasionally leaving her lips to tease his way across her upper body. 

Seemingly getting his fill of just kissing, Taylor slipped his hands down to Kelsey’s waist to carefully pull her underwear from her body, removing the last item of clothing separating them. Then he reached for the condom he’d tossed onto the bed, tearing the wrapper and sheathing himself in the latex before applying a generous amount of lube. All of that situated, he settled himself back between Kelsey’s thighs. 

“All good?” He questioned softly, his eyes warm as he looked at her. 

“All good.” Kelsey echoed, reaching up to tangle her fingers in his hair as he pressed into her slowly. Absolutely nothing compared to the stretch of him inside her and a moan started to rise in her throat. It was then that her brain remembered where they were and how his parents could literally be two feet outside the door. Biting back the moan, Kelsey let out a shaky breath instead. They could do this but they had to be quiet. It was one thing for his parents to know they’d had sex, it was another for them to hear them in the midst of it. 

Kissing him again to help silence herself, Kelsey focused on how it felt to be intimate with him. 

Still maintaining the languid morning mood, Taylor moved slowly in his thrusts, movements that allowed Kelsey to feel every inch of him. It also kept things quieter, an added benefit but not really the intention. 

Gradually, the coil in Kelsey’s stomach wound tighter as Taylor pressed into her over and over again. But as his movements started becoming less steady, Kelsey knew that this alone wasn’t going to push her over the edge even if she was enjoying it tremendously. Thankfully, Taylor seemed to make the same observation and so he adjusted himself slightly, shifting a hand to slide between their bodies and rub his thumb against her clit. 

It may not have seemed like much but it sent sparks flying through her body and Kelsey gasped into his mouth. This was exactly what she needed. Now confident that she was going to get there right behind him, Kelsey tugged Taylor’s hair gently. 

“You can cum Tay, I’m right behind you.” She murmured against his lips. Still stroking her clit, Taylor’s movements became more erratic and she felt his body draw taut above her before relaxing as he released into the condom after just a few more thrusts. As he came down from his high, Kelsey hit her own, spasming around him and whining softly in the back of her throat. 

Panting as Taylor pulled out, Kelsey watched as he got up to dispose of the condom before returning to her side. Both knew they could only cuddle for a moment before Kelsey needed to get up to pee and clean up but she was going to bask in that moment and Taylor’s hug, his fingers trailing lightly over her back. 

“Well that was unexpected.” Kelsey said lightly, a slight giggle in her voice. 

“Unexpected for you?” Taylor joked. “Last I checked I’m the one that woke up to your hand around my dick.” 

“It was right there.” Kelsey added, still playful. “What was I supposed to do?” 

Rolling his eyes fondly, Taylor tickled her sides. 

“Go pee Kels.” He instructed a minute later, stopping his teasing and kissing her lips softly. 

Stealing a second kiss, Kelsey reluctantly got out of bed, reaching for clothes to throw on to get her to the bathroom in case his parents were in fact awake. Without a mirror in the room, Kelsey couldn’t tell how she looked but even if her hair was messy she at least had clothes on her body. Once Taylor at least had boxers back on, Kelsey opened the door to cross the living space toward the bathroom. She was immediately grateful she was decent because his parents were both present in the kitchen discussing what to make for breakfast. 

“Good morning Kelsey.” Gary greeted. 

“Morning.” She murmured, her cheeks flushing a bit unconsciously as she made her way into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. 

After peeing, Kelsey wiped herself clean of her bodily fluids and any lubricant that had been left behind. Then she combed her fingers through her hair trying to make it look a little less tangled and splashed some water on her face. Deciding that was as good as it was going to get until she officially got dressed for the day, Kelsey moved to step out of the bathroom only to bump into Taylor who was standing outside the door already dressed for his workout. His presence made her jump and she cursed under her breath causing him to laugh as he moved her forward so he could step into the bathroom behind her. 

Crossing back to their room, Kelsey closed that door behind her as well and then lifted her suitcase up to find something to wear for the day. A quick check of her phone revealed that although today was going to be one of the warmer days, it was still going to be chilly, so she pulled out the single pair of pants she had brought and a t-shirt along with clean undergarments. She’d have to borrow one of the hoodies T had packed for her if she was going to spend any time outside today. And she’d definitely have to figure out how to make her wardrobe work given that she had not packed for the weather to be this chilly.

Dressing herself in at least the lighter layer, Kelsey ran a brush through her hair and put deodorant on, deciding she’d brush her teeth and do a light layer of makeup after having her coffee and breakfast. 

Feeling more put together, Kelsey left the bedroom once more, making her way into the kitchen to make up a cup of coffee to actually get her brain working. With Taylor already standing making coffee, Kelsey moved over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. 

“When you’re done with yours can you get one started for me?” She questioned. 

“This one is yours.” Taylor declared, his tone hinting at the unspoken ‘who do you think I am’. 

“Tay. I can wait for a second one to be made, I’m not gonna take yours.” Kelsey murmured. 

Turning slightly, Taylor glared at her softly, his look communicating for her to take the coffee because he had made it for her not himself. 

“Okay, fine. Thank you.” Kelsey murmured. “I love you.” 

Immediately Taylor’s facial expression softened and he pressed his lips to her forehead in a quick kiss before sliding the mug of coffee over to her as his parents shared an unseen look. 

Taking the mug, Kelsey stepped out from Taylor’s proximity to get the cream from the fridge and a little bit of sugar to make it more palatable before moving to the living room to get out of everyone’s way as breakfast was made. Honestly, she couldn’t have asked for a better start to the morning and she smiled to herself as she sipped at her coffee. 

It didn’t take long before Kelsey was summoned to make herself a plate for breakfast and she loaded it up with eggs and bacon, thanking Laura and Gary for the food. Devouring everything on her plate and finishing her coffee, Kelsey got up to take care of her dishes. Seeing Taylor also finish as she moved to get the rest of the things she needed to get ready, Kelsey asked if he could grab one of the sweatshirts he’d packed for her before he left to go workout. 

Said hoodie was laying on the bed by the time she finished and Kelsey put all her things away, grabbing the first of the two books she had packed. Though it might be too cool to sit out for long, Kelsey was going to try to get some fresh air and read while Taylor trained. Throwing the hoodie on, Kelsey smiled at how huge it was on her body, making her feel warm and safe. Then she padded out to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water before making her way onto the porch with her book in hand. 

Laura and Gary must have been getting themselves ready for the day because she hadn’t seen either of them but that didn’t matter much as she settled herself into one of the comfy chairs before cracking her book open to sit and read. It definitely was chilly out but it was manageable, especially curled into a ball with a book in her lap.

Losing herself in the words on the page, Kelsey barely noticed when Laura came out, settling into one of the other chairs with a book of her own. They read silently until voices came from the hill beside the house. 

“Those two never can be quiet.” Laura murmured, raising an eyebrow at the sound. 

“Of course not.” Kelsey added, shaking her head softly. It wasn’t exactly easy to block out the sounds of Gary and Taylor going back and forth with each other, but Kelsey did her best and focused on the words on the page in front of her. She only had to reread paragraphs a few times which overall was a success. 

Eventually, Laura got up and moved back inside as it became clear that Taylor was wrapping up his training for the day. When her boyfriend appeared over her, he was dripping in sweat and had a smoothie in hand. 

“Cozy Kels?” He questioned, adjusting his ball cap over his sweaty hair. 

“Just chilling…” She shrugged. “Good workout?” 

A simple nod of the head was his answer as he chugged more of the smoothie. 

“Gonna shower but then I was thinking I’d take you out on the lake…” 

“Sure T. I’m down but there’s no rush.” 

Taylor paced around the porch for a minute while he finished his smoothie before he slipped back inside. Judging by how long it usually took Taylor to shower, Kelsey read for another ten minutes before marking her spot and closing her book. Then she headed inside herself to put her book away and grab shoes to go out on a boat with him. 

Once all that was done, and just to be safe, she threw her phone in the waterproof floating pouch she had brought and sealed it shut before sliding it back into her pocket. 

Taylor was out of the shower not long after that and after putting her shoes on Kelsey followed him downstairs and outside where they met up with his dad who was giving the boat a quick hose down before they took it out onto the water. 

“How can we help?” Kelsey asked. 

“Once T and I flip it to drain the water you can towel it down.” Gary directed, tossing the hose aside now that he was finished with it. Together the boys flipped it over to pour the water out and then flipped it back onto its bottom. Taking her cue, Kelsey grabbed the towel from the ground where Gary had put it and started to dry off the inside of the boat starting with the seats. 

When she was finished, Gary and Taylor carried it down to the water, carefully setting it into the lake alongside the dock and tying it in place. While they hooked up the engine to it, Kelsey retrieved the life jackets from the storage shed where Gary had said they were located and carried them down to the dock. 

With everything situated, Kelsey put her lifejacket on before climbing into the boat with Taylor’s help. Sitting down, she waited for him to climb in too, his lifejacket getting tossed under his seat, before he untied the boat from the dock and pushed off slightly before giving the engine a start. 

It wasn’t a very powerful engine but it did the job of motoring them around the lake steadily. Out on the water, Kelsey could see the houses scattered around the shoreline but it was the view of the mountains in the distance that took her breath away. It really couldn’t get much prettier than this. 

“Pretty huh?” Taylor mused, watching the expression on her face as he steered the boat slowly around the lake. 

“Gorgeous Tay.” Kelsey agreed, just taking it all in. “You know…any trip I’ve ever taken basically anywhere was to a beach…” She reflected. “But I think you’re converting me into a mountain and lake girl instead. It’s so peaceful.” 

A pleased grin crossed Taylor’s face and he slowed the boat to just drift through the water. 

“You’ll like Colorado then.” He murmured. 

Kelsey’s heart jumped and then fluttered in her chest hearing Taylor reference Colorado. Moreover, referencing her being in Colorado. Never before had he connected those two thoughts and it caught her slightly off guard. He’d talked about wanting forever with her but he’d never given that forever any context before and she couldn’t help the giddy grin that spilled onto her face. 

“Yeah?” She questioned, wanting to hear what other thoughts he had on the topic. 

“Yeah.” Taylor affirmed. “It’s a fun place to be. Great people, lots to explore. Plenty of beautiful places I can show you.” 

“Sounds amazing.” Kelsey murmured honestly. After all, there was a reason she had applied to med school in Colorado in the first place. That reason just so happened to be sitting across from her praising the state he’d only been in a few dozen times. Admittedly, it was their shared smiles that said everything that they hadn’t in words and made her heart flutter once more. 

Taking in a deep breath of the fresh mountain air, Kelsey just let herself relax fully. She was here with the boy she loves with glimmers of their future together being presented to her. His parents had welcomed her with open arms quashing each fear she’d had one after another. Things were good. 

As they continued drifting around the lake, Taylor told her stories of his memories on the lake itself, where the best fishing spots were, the antics and trouble they’d gotten up to over the years and it only made her smile more. 

“Would you mind if I came and kept you company when you go out fishing?” Kelsey questioned.

“It’s kinda boring Kels…” Taylor mused. “But sure…if you want to.” 

“I do.” Kelsey affirmed. It didn’t matter if she was just sitting and reading while he fished, it was time with him and Kelsey wanted to soak up as much of it as she could. 

Conversation faded a bit and Kelsey just basked in the view. She really never had been anywhere like this before and it was stunning. If Colorado was anything like this she knew at least scenic wise she could be very comfortable there. 

Boating around the lake for a little while longer, Taylor eventually started back toward the dock as lunchtime approached. Cutting the engine as they approached, Taylor drifted the boat alongside the dock with precision before hooking the tether around one of the dock’s poles to secure it in place. Then he climbed out, careful not to rock the boat too much before reaching a hand out to help Kelsey back onto dry land. 

She wobbled slightly as she tried to regain her legs but quickly balanced herself, laughing softly at how she had gotten sea legs after just a short boat ride. 

“You good?” Taylor questioned as he checked his work in securing the boat.  

“Yep.” Kelsey murmured. “My equilibrium just needed a second there.” 

Taking off her life jacket to leave with the boat, Kelsey slipped her hand into Taylor’s as they headed back up to the house. 

“Thanks for that T.” She murmured, stepping sideways to bump into him gently and playfully. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, Kels.” He replied, squeezing her hand, his voice soft. 

Kicking their shoes off at the door, they climbed the stairs to the kitchen where his mom was already working on pulling things for sandwiches from the fridge. 

“Good boat ride?” She asked, smiling at them. 

“Yeah it was.” Kelsey agreed. “The lake is beautiful.” She leaned against the island as Taylor moved to the fridge, tossing her another bottle of water. “Anything I can help with?” She asked not wanting Laura to feel like she was ungrateful. 

“No, just getting things out so you guys can make your own sandwiches.” Laura replied. “And I think that’s it so have at it.” 

Both thanking Laura, Taylor moved to get food and Kelsey rounded the island following behind. Making herself a sandwich she added some chips onto her plate before taking it and her water out onto the back deck to sit and eat. 

“Would it bother you if I did some homework after lunch?” Taylor asked softly while sitting across from her. 

“What no of course not!” Kelsey exclaimed after swallowing. “Have you been putting off homework for me? Taylor…” 

“I worked ahead, it’s fine. But I should probably do some soon.” He shrugged, his body language showing that he wasn’t at all stressed about it which helped Kelsey relax a little. 

“Do your homework Tay, I’ll be fine.” Kelsey assured him. “I can read or see if your parents want to play some games or something.” 

“We’d happily play some games with you Kelsey.” Gary declared walking through the backdoor with his own lunch. 

“See I’ll be fine.” Kelsey assured Taylor, nudging his leg under the table. 

Finishing her lunch, Kelsey moved back inside to dispose of her plate and maybe take another look at what games they had. In the kitchen, she saw Laura working to clean up, her food still sitting on its plate. 

“I can clean up.” Kelsey declared as she tossed her plate into the trash. 

“Thanks Kelsey.” Laura declared, picking up her plate to go sit and eat. Nodding, Kelsey moved to finish putting everything from lunch away. She really didn’t mind, after all they were feeding her and everything else for these two weeks. Once everything in the kitchen was dealt with, Kelsey resumed her quest to look through the cabinet of games again to try and figure out what she’d play with Taylor’s parents after they finished eating. 

Ultimately, they settled on starting with another round of Catan without Taylor there to swoop in and beat them all. Then they walked her through a game of Ticket to Ride since Kelsey had never played it before. Thankfully, the concept was simple enough that Kelsey was able to pick it up easily and she enjoyed jockeying with Taylor’s parents for prime train routes. Finishing that game as well, they cleaned up and Kelsey thanked them for playing with her. 

“I think I’m going to go lay down for a bit if you don’t mind.” Kelsey added, partly feeling tired from having gotten up really early and partly feeling some anxiety creep in at Cale and Tracy’s pending arrival. 

“Of course we don’t mind.” Laura insisted and after refilling her water Kelsey headed into the bedroom she was sharing with Taylor, shutting the door behind her. Though she scrolled on her phone for a while, unsurprised by a lack of contact from her parents, eventually Kelsey closed her eyes and after tossing and turning for less time than she expected she fell asleep. 

Waking with a start, Kelsey’s brain first processed the sound of activity in the kitchen. Groaning softly, she forced herself to sit up before checking her phone. 4:51 p.m. It had been nearly two hours since she’d come to lay down and she definitely hadn’t anticipated sleeping that long. 

Through the door she could hear a mix of voices including two that were more unfamiliar than the rest. Cale and Tracy.  Over all of them boomed Taylor’s as he seemingly chirped his brother for something that Kelsey couldn’t quite pick up. 

Slipping out of bed, Kelsey fixed the covers before running a brush through her newly messy hair, attempting to not look like she had just spent over an hour sleeping. Then she made her way to the door, opening it quietly. With her eyes landing on Taylor standing and animatedly talking, she moved over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and tucking herself into his side. 

After a moment, Taylor squeezed her tight and dropped a kiss to her head. 

“Oh hey Kelsey” Cale commented before Taylor fired back at his brother regarding whatever they had been talking about. Still tucked in his side, Kelsey nodded at Cale and tried to fight off the remnants of sleep while Taylor’s thumb stroked her side absentmindedly. 

With her body more settled from the contact, Kelsey looked toward the kitchen where Tracy and Laura were getting things out to start on dinner. As Tracy turned from pulling something from the fridge her eyes met Kelsey’s and a smile spread across her face. 

“Hi Kelsey.” She stated warmly. Putting down what she had in her hands, Tracy scurried across the kitchen toward Kelsey. Doing her best to mask her discomfort, Kelsey squeezed Taylor tight for a moment before releasing to accept Tracy’s hug. Hugging was something that Kelsey was only used to doing with people she was close to, yet she didn’t want to seem rude when Tracy was clearly trying to make her feel welcome. The excitement was just a little much. 

After hugging her, Tracy turned to head back into the kitchen and taking a deep breath, Kelsey followed asking what she could do to help. Really she just wanted to have something to busy her hands before the anxiety sank too far into her mind. Cutting up vegetables for a salad would go a long way to keeping her mind busy and calm. 

After a minute more of bickering, the boys headed outside with Gary to prep the grill and likely continue their antics. While they worked on readying the food, Laura and Tracy chatted talking about everything from what Cale and Tracy had been up to during the week to the weather.

 “It’s going to be a cooler week that’s for sure.” Laura said, agreeing with Tracy’s prior statement. 

“Great…I did not pack for that.” Kelsey mumbled, her quiet voice still audible from a few feet away. 

“We have a washing machine.” Laura started.

“I packed extra.” Tracy chimed in, cutting Laura off. “You can borrow whatever you need. We’re probably about the same size.” 

Half nodding, Kelsey mumbled a ‘thanks’ as her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She hadn’t meant for anyone to hear her. 

Conversation dipped for a moment but as Tracy moved to grab something from one of the drawers next to Kelsey, she gave her shoulder a quick squeeze before returning to her task. 

After that, Laura and Tracy resumed talking but Kelsey kind of just blocked it out, focusing on making the salad for dinner. She heard the door open as the food was taken to the grill but she just focused on her own breathing as she worked. The sounds of the rest of the things used for prep being cleaned and other things being taken outside followed, just barely registering in the back of Kelsey’s mind. 

Once the salad was finished, Kelsey switched to cleaning up the scraps along with the knife and cutting board she’d used. 

“Looks great Kelsey, thanks.” Laura declared, taking the salad bowl and salad spoon outside to the table. 

“What do you want to drink Kelsey?” Tracy questioned while standing at the fridge. 

“Water is fine.” Kelsey stated softly as she dried her hands, her items now clean. 

With everything inside taken care of, they headed out onto the deck where Taylor was once again manning the grill while Gary supervised and Cale glowered. Kelsey followed behind waiting for Laura and Tracy to claim seats. Gary’s was also obvious based on where his drink was located. Quickly surveying the table, Kelsey slid into the seat across from Tracy waiting for the boys to finish cooking dinner. 

Thankfully it didn’t take long before they were pulling the food off the grill onto platters and heading over to the table. Sliding in beside her, Taylor sat down and gently brushed his hand over her thigh before reaching for food as they all started to serve themselves. 

Dinner passed by fairly smoothly, snippets of conversation proceeding though everyone was mostly occupied with the food on their plates. Even as plates were cleared, no one moved to get up, just sitting and relaxing instead as conversation picked up a bit more. As Taylor and Cale talked about their training in the morning, Gary piped in. 

“Tomorrow is the first day for the Farmer’s Market.” 

“You guys should go and show Kelsey.” Laura added quickly. “Pick up some things for the rest of the week.” 

“We can definitely do that.” Tracy declared, smiling. Neither Cale nor Taylor seemed to care much one way or the other so apparently they were going to the farmer’s market though Kelsey had no real idea what that entailed. “Was thinking about taking Kels on a hike tomorrow since it should be nice ” Taylor added, glancing over at Kelsey. “Can do that after the farmer’s market and lunch though.” 

“Wigwam Rim Trail or Sheep’s mountain?” Cale suggested, listing a few of what Kelsey assumed were local hikes. 

“Silver Springs Lakes” Taylor declared having already decided where he wanted to go. 

“You guys can come with us if you want.” Kelsey stated, speaking for the first time. While she would love a hike with just Taylor, she knew that the likelihood of that happening was small so she might as well be the one to put the invitation out there instead of being upset by the inevitable. 

The smiles she received told Kelsey that it was the right call but it didn’t make her not wish for time alone with Taylor. Needing a moment, Kelsey pushed her chair back to stand and started to gather up dishes, deciding to take them inside to load the dishwasher. She could only handle about half on her own so she knew that someone would end up following but even ten seconds  to herself was something. 

Almost everyone ended up following her inside. Gary brought the remainder of the dishes while everyone else moved to ready the table inside for playing games as evening took hold making it harder to see outside. 

“We’re playing crib right?” Cale questioned, though the tone was more of a statement. 

“Nope.” Taylor said dryly. “We can play Uno, Apples to Apples, Catan, or Yahtzee.” 

“Why not crib?” Cale grumbled, his face showing he was clearly not pleased at being told no. “I don’t want to play those games.” 

“It’s fine. You guys can play cribbage.” Kelsey said, trying to defuse the situation. “I wanted to go watch the sunset over the lake anyway.” 

Finishing loading the dishwasher with all the items from dinner, Kelsey moved around the island sending Taylor a smile as she descended down the stairs to get her shoes and head down to the dock. 

After sliding her shoes on, Kelsey stepped outside, closing the door behind her. Immediately a deep breath spilled from her as the cool air enveloped her along with the simple noises of nature. The quiet was a welcome contrast to the noise that surrounded Taylor’s family. She loved Taylor so much but she had to admit she was struggling to adapt to the chaos. 

Making her way down to the dock, Kelsey picked a spot and sat down, leaning back on her palms as her legs stretched out before her. Breathing slowly, Kelsey just took in the view of the trees and mountains in the evening light. There were a few boats on the water but it was still peaceful and Kelsey attempted to let her stress bleed out of her body as she enjoyed this moment alone. 

It was crazy how she had only been here a day and already this dock was where she felt most comfortable. There was just something about it that she couldn’t put into words. 

Kelsey was unsure how long she’d been sitting there when she heard the sound of one of the doors of the house opening. Not bothering to look up, Kelsey just continued enjoying her quiet time. After a minute or so she felt someone approach before moving to sit down beside her. Again, Kelsey didn’t need to look to know that it was Taylor and she shifted a bit closer to him. 

“Who won?” She asked softly as to not break the overall peacefulness of the moment. 

“Mom and me.” Taylor replied just as quietly. “How’s everything down here?” 

“Beautiful.” Kelsey murmured. “I think this is my favorite spot.” After pausing a moment, Kelsey continued. “But if you’re asking how I’m feeling, I’m fine T…just didn’t want to cause a conflict.”

“You sure you’re okay?” Taylor mumbled. “Because you promised to tell me if you aren’t and it seems like you have a lot on your mind.” 

Sighing softly, Kelsey glanced over at her boyfriend. 

“I promise I’m okay.” She assured him reaching over to brush her fingers over his thigh. “But yeah, just stuff I’m dealing with.” 

Taylor’s expression shifted to look even more concerned and Kelsey bit her lip. 

“Like I was just getting used to your parents and now there’s two more personalities in the picture…two more extremely intense personalities…and it’s just a bit overwhelming.” She explained. “Tracy is sweet…she’s just a bit much. And your brother…well it doesn't seem like he really wants to get to know me or that he doesn’t like me or something…I don’t know.” 

Breathing, Kelsey squeezed Taylor’s thigh again to reassure him. 

“It’s nothing I can’t handle, it's just…it’s a lot and Cale was getting upset so I figured it would be better for me to give everyone some space and come breathe.” 

Pausing again, Kelsey glanced out at the lake and mountains in front of them as the sun sank further in the sky. 

“Your family loves you so much Tay…” She started. “Just…I’m an only child. An only child who has never been loved like your family loves you. I mean….your mom hugged you last night…I don’t think mine has ever hugged me like that even when I was little. And she’s pissed at me for being here, neither her nor my dad have even tried to check to make sure I’m still alive.” 

Sighing softly Kelsey finished her rambling. 

“So yeah it’s just…I’m overwhelmed but I’m okay Taylor. I’m so glad I get to be here with you and get to know the people that love you, it’s just sometimes a lot for me.” 

Having just dropped a lot on him, Kelsey stopped to let it all sink in. After a moment, Taylor’s arm draped over her shoulders and she leaned against his side. 

“I can see if I can get Tracy to chill out a little.” Taylor murmured. “I know she came on a little strong but she is genuinely excited to get to know you.” Nodding, Kelsey tipped her head back to kiss Taylor’s jaw. 

“Cale is…he’s just protective. It’s not that he doesn’t like you or want to get to know you, he just…” Taylor paused, letting out a deep breath of his own. 

“My highschool girlfriend was emotionally abusive.” Taylor admitted. “She would question why I even bothered with hockey because I wasn’t good enough to make it. She would find a way to be unhappy about every single thing I did and blame me for her unhappiness. Our entire relationship was based around her needs…I…mine didn’t matter.” 

“Cale saw it all and just…you’re the first person I’ve been with seriously since then and he’s just concerned about me even if you’re nothing like her. It’s nothing you’ve done and he’ll come around.” 

With Taylor seemingly finished, Kelsey twisted to kneel beside him, wrapping him in a tight hug. 

“Thank you for telling me.” She whispered, a fierce sense of love rushing through her as he hugged her back just as tightly. 

“I’m in a pretty good spot with all of it now.” Taylor assured her. “Just...that’s why my family is the way it is when it comes to you. Cale most of all.” 

Pulling back just enough, Kelsey kissed him gently, trying to pour her love for him into the kiss. 

When she stopped she teased at the hairs on the back of his neck gently. 

“For the record. You are good enough. You make me so fucking happy and I just want to make you as happy as you make me so I need you to speak up if there’s something you need that I’m not doing.” 

“I know.” Taylor replied, his nose dipping into her neck for a moment as small tremors rolled through his body. 

For a while they stayed just like that, but eventually Taylor nudged her softly. 

“You’re going to miss the sunset you came down for if you stay like this.” He teased. 

Kissing him softly once more, Kelsey settled back onto her butt, her knees stinging slightly from kneeling on the hard wood of the dock for so long. They didn’t bother her for long though as she took in the orange sky as it turned to pinks, blues, and purples. 

“It’s so beautiful.” Kelsey murmured, voice in awe. “I feel like I could watch this every night and still be awestruck.” 

“Why don’t we?” Taylor suggested causing Kelsey to turn her head, expression mildly confused. 

“I mean I guess we could.” Kelsey replied though she felt like she was missing something. 

“I mean why don’t we come down for a few minutes every day, be it sunrise, sunset, or to look at the stars. We can touch base with each other about the day and just talk.” Taylor elaborated. 

It clicked that Taylor was offering her a daily escape from the chaos of his family. Those precious moments with just the two of them. 

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s do it.” Kelsey agreed, the remaining tension in her body melting away. 

With the sun finally sinking below the horizon, Kelsey tipped her head back to kiss Taylor once more. 

“I love you Tay.” 

“And I love you.” He echoed as they exchanged soft short kisses. Soon they would have to go back up to the house and rejoin the chaos but this time on the dock…that was theirs. 

[hawkerights]

TAV (WHIMSY) X ASTARION

Spoilers: Moonrise Towers Act 2. Interpretation of the confession scene after the encounter with Araj. PG13. Angsty drabble because I've been obsessed w/ them for years

   The gloom of Moonrise Towers lingered in the distance. What a glum, horrific visit that the party had to swallow- right upon the clutches of their enemies, and yet walking among the other followers of the Absolute as if it were as natural as rain. Every step in front of the other that Whimsy took of late felt heavy- every second was a choice she wasn't sure she was supposed to be making. And to make matters worse, it felt like they were no closer to destroying Ketheric Thorm whatsoever. 

   There was a bit of hope there at camp the night they celebrated with the Groove. But all of that seemed like a distant, foolish memory. A light snuffed out by the uncertainty of it all. By the despair of finding those same hopeful people trapped in the gloom of Moonrise. Somehow, Whimsy felt responsible for their fates.

   All this time, she did a decent job of keeping her nerves bottled, contained- but this? It was beginning to be too much. She was in over her head and the pressure was rising, searing- shaking in her chest and rattling her ribs.

   Okay, she thought. Everything was fine, for now. She was here, safe at camp. The danger and them had enough distance. Whimsy could cleanse the fear from her bones if but for a moment- she could give the others a peace of mind, and in doing so give some to herself. Like she always did. Just- pick up her instrument and let the sound waft into camp to lull her friends to a restful evening. So why was it so hard?

   The tiefling found herself on the edge of the shoreline, letting the water lap across the bottom of her boots. The wind was fell and cold, yet still a welcome feeling on her skin. She closed her eyes, moving her fingers towards her strings and took a deep breath.

   “There you are- I was looking for you.” Called a voice from behind.

   Whimsy let out a frightened yelp, dropping her lute as she turned to the sound, unable to stop herself from reacting before the realization of familiarity settled. It was Astarion, her fair-faced lover, who stopped in his tracks upon Whimsy’s reaction. He seemed to have a look of bewilderment that curled into amusement at the sight of an easily startled hero.

   “Well come now, I know I’m good at sneaking up on people but I wasn’t even trying that time,” He mused, crossing his arms. The vampire stood slightly overlooking her, upon the ledge of the path that came down to the shore. 

   Astarion watched as Whimsy sighed and retrieved her harp, turning to him with a frown, though relieved it was just him. It was a bit unlike her, she usually greeted him with a smile or something more, but she clearly wasn’t expecting anyone to bother her again for the evening.

   “Sorry, I just wasn’t listening for anyone. Uh, did you need something?” Whimsy asked, but Astarion wasn’t focusing on the stammer in her words.

   “I just wanted to thank you. For earlier.”

   The bard rose a brow, placing her instrument against a larger rock. “You’re…welcome?” 

   “It was for what you said- while I was before that vile drow.” Astarion sneered, the mere reckon of her on his lips was enough to recall his detest. He could recollect the smell of her putrid blood trapped behind cold, darkwater skin.

  And of course, how could Whimsy forget. Araj’Oblodra, a potions master who was trading in Moonrise Towers. They ran into her after their meeting with Ketheric Thorm. At first, she seemed like any other shady trader who had no regard for the company they kept if only it meant business. It mattered not to Whimsy- if Araj were to stay around when the time to invade Moonrise came, she would fall with all the rest. Otherwise, she was free to slink back to whatever rank shadow she emerged from.

   It only became personal when Araj demanded that Astarion sank his teeth into her wimbly, toxic neck at her pleasure. Perhaps it was a bit embarrassing in retrospect, but Whimsy had gotten a tad possessive in the moment. Astarion had pulled Whimsy to the side, to beg her not to bid him do this. Much to his surprise, Whimsy told Araj where to stick her demands before declaring Astarion off limits. They spoke not of it again until this moment, but Whimsy hadn’t considered it worthy of gratitude.

    Whimsy nodded, having eased a bit. “Well sure, she was wretched. Pissant sort.”

   She would usually get a chuckle out of Astarion with her colorful vocabulary, but he hopped from his ledge and moved closer to her instead. “It’s just- I spent two hundred years, using my body to lure pretty things back for my Master. What I wanted, how I felt about what I was doing…It never mattered.”

   Whimsy lowered her head in thought. With everything that was happening, she hadn’t considered how it would have affected Astarion. No- she didn’t feel as though she would have needed too. In the moment, he said ‘no’. That had been enough, and it would have always been. Whimsy was a bit surprised in the moment that he did not want to feast upon a willing victim, but to be quite honest- the way Araj only wanted Astarion’s bite for thrills bothered her. She wouldn’t have been happy even if Astarion obliged her.

   When Astarion gently lifted her chin, Whimsy looked up at him softly. Her eyes were wide with anticipation at his next words, though there was a pang of hurt in her heart for what he was sharing with her. “You could have asked me to do the same- to throw myself at her, and what I wanted be damned. But you didn’t. And I’m grateful.”

   The tiefling frowned, pushing his hand away slowly. She turned away from him, her eyes lurking towards the foggy horizon past the water. “You don’t need to thank me for something like that. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

   Although perplexed by her reaction, Astarion shifted beside her. “A novel concept, I’d admit. And a little intimidating.”

   There was some silence, as Whimsy said nothing. Her eyes wandered to him for a moment when he moved to her left, mimicking her direction towards the lake. Astarion, unsure of the air between them, pushed on. He wanted her to know how he felt, what it meant, and she was being unusually unresponsive to his affection. Afterall, he was trying to give her a token of appreciation. He was trying to connect.

   “It would have been easy to bite her. To just go along with what I was being told to do,” Astarion started again, though this time with a bit more vulnerability in his voice. “A moment of disgust to force myself through- and then, I could have carried on, just like before.”

   He didn’t look at her for a moment- perhaps it was out of shame. He tensed, hugging himself. The thought had crossed him again, filling him with a regret for the centuries he spent sleeping with countless targets against his will- names all forgotten and faces ablur. A night of pleasure, then he would lead them to their doom. It had been so long…further back than he could even recall anymore, that he had someone on his side.

   “So why sleep with me, then? Did you think you’d get something out of that, too?” Whimsy said through her teeth, her voice faltering but terse. 

   Astarion whipped his head to look at her, finding Whimsy struggling to hold back hot tears. Her face was on fire and her gut was in her chest. Everything was culminating in her head and this was enough to tip her over the edge. Sure, perhaps their relationship had always been somewhat transactional- it was fun, exciting in the beginning. The sneaking off, the sweet nothings- dancing around the idea of anything serious and just enjoying one another. But that began to change the moment Astarion dared to play with words “I love you”.

She...she couldn't get it out of her head after that. And anything else felt like rejection.

   “Whimsy-” Astarion began with a jovial, “surely-your-joking” tone- which was his first mistake.

   “Don’t “Whimsy”, me. Tell me the truth. Am I just another moment of disgust?”

   In a second, Astarion’s walls had erected themselves. His expression went sour as he looked down at her, his eyes rolled at her outburst. “I needed protection, of course. People don’t trust vampires- perhaps understandably- so I needed to get someone on my side.” He scoffed. “And seducing you was easy, frankly.”

   Of course. How could she be so stupid? She had fallen harder than she meant to. It was just a game for him, to gain some advantage. Whimsy went quiet, a sickness seeping in. Without meaning too, Gale crossed her mind. His easy nature, the way he made her feel safe. It was different with him. She longed for that understanding and safety with Astarion, enough to pull away from Gale at every turn despite an unspoken something between them.

   Perhaps it had all been a waste of her time. But now, maybe she could finally be sure. Though even as she turned to leave, Astarion grabbed her wrist.

   Little did Whimsy know that the regret of his words bittered on his tongue the moment they left his wretched lips. He didn’t mean to spurn her, it wasn’t his intention of coming. “Wait. I wasn’t finished. Yes, I had selfish motives. I was just doing the only thing I knew how. So imagine how…how stupid I felt when I started to feel something for you.”

   He could see the tears beating down Whimsy’s face, even as her back was turned to him. She didn’t force his grip away, but neither could she face him.

  Astarion continued, trying not to sound as desperate on the outside as he surely was within. “Trust me, Whimsy. I wasn’t happy about it. You- you complicated everything. I didn’t see it coming- I didn’t see you coming. I didn’t know I could have something like this before. And yet…”

   Whimsy turned around, her fiery eyes gleamed with the tears caught on the surface of them. “I love you,” she whispered- it was sudden, reactive, but there was no going back. She had to close the distance between him and her feelings or forever regret it.

   “You do?” Astarion replied, as Whimsy embraced him. 

   He froze, taken by surprise by her sudden hold upon him. When she bore her face into his chest, the warmth of her weeping seeped into his blouse.

   They had held one another times before. Making love, nights of drunken messes. But mostly, there were only the awkward goodnights, or childish teasing. They fronted and tried to play it cool, affection only reserved for nights of passion. But this was different- this was comfort.

   Astarion’s fingers quaked. His body was so unsure, but his mind wanted something else. Slowly, he slipped his fingers around her back before reciprocating her tight embrace. Now that he was here, it felt impossible to want to let go. His knuckles went white as he gripped her clothes, rocking her back and forth. Gods, it was unlike anything he’d felt in longer than he knew.

   Then, a pang of something in his chest. Something adjacent to uncertainty- life grief that had yet to come to pass. How could this possibly last for a mere moment? How could the future look so unrecognizable for the first time? Whimsy’s voice brought him back to reality for a moment.

   “...What?” Astarion asked, having lost the moment to his thoughts.

   “Can I kiss you?” She asked again. 

   Astarion, still embracing her tightly, caressed the side of her face. He leaned into her and shared a moment of genuine warmth. Just enough to let her pluck at his lips with hers, before pulling away. They paused, sharing a deep glance and kissed again, deeply. This time, however, neither yearned for something more at the end. At last, it seemed to be enough. He was enough. She was enough.

   “You’re full of surprises,” Astarion said, through a nervous laugh. “Honestly, I have no idea what we're doing, or what comes next.” He looked down at her, carefully adjusting strands of her hair. 

   “But this? This is nice.”

[tj-dragonblade]

WIP Share tag game

Tagged by @honeyteacakes - thank you!

Rules: Post snippets/screenshots/etc. from three of your WIPs!  Art or Fic!

Late Mer-Hob AU for the Dreamling Week prompt 'ocean'

In the depths below, a flash of orange.  Then, rising nearer, a very human face takes shape, coming to a stop half a meter below the surface.  Brown hair floats like kelp around his friend's head, dark eyes crinkle with delight at the sight of him, and then his friend is arcing backwards into a happy loop, the bright orange of his tail with its vivid blue spots curving gracefully after.  The sunny yellow of his primary fin rises out of the water smoothly, barely making a splash as it follows back under, and then his face is breaking the surface, tipped up, smiling like the sun.

Beautiful, Dream thinks, and again thanks whatever cosmic force he may or may not believe in that his near-drowning six months ago had led him here.

"Hello, my friend," he says, and the other beams at him, shakes water from his hair and smooths it back again.

"Hello to you, Dream," he says, dimpling prettily, crossing his arms to rest on the edge of the cave floor, tail fin flicking lazily up out of the water behind him and splashing gently back.  Tendrils of wet hair fall loose to frame his face despite the smoothing-back he gave them, and Dream likes to think that perhaps one day he'll be bold enough to reach out, tuck them behind his friend's ear affectionately.

But today is not that day.

Tentatively titled Inspiration (Smune day 2 prompt 'paper')

"Guys…I'm so sorry, not tonight, I can't.  I have to get this paper done."  Hob pushed up his glasses and dragged his hands over his face, the picture of academic exhaustion.  "The deadline for submission is noon tomorrow and I've been working on it for ages, and it's almost done but I just.  I can't get the conclusion to come together right and it's making me absolutely bananas."

A frown creased Calliope's brow; leaving Dream to shut Hob's front door, she moved across the room to hover over Hob, glancing at his laptop screen.  "How long have you been working?"

"Hours.  All day," Hob groaned.  "I'm so close but I just can't get there and it's driving me mad."

"Perhaps a break—" Dream started, but Calliope held up a hand to cut him off; when she spoke, it was still to Hob.

"You are favored of one of the muses; you struggle to capture your thoughts in inspiring words, yet you do not call upon her for her gifts?"  Her tone was somewhere between teasing, disappointed, and disapproving, and Hob blanched, just a little.

"I—no!  I would never!  You can't possibly think I'd presume to take advantage—?"

"There is no presumption in accepting a gift freely offered, Hob."

Ambrosia (Dream appreciating Hob's messy humanness/born of several Smurch and one Smapril prompt) (mildly spicy)

"Ugh," he says, poking at the wet smears on his chest.  "Wow.  That's…a lot."

Dream smirks from where he’s laying atop him.  "I enjoy the sight of you wearing it."

"Clearly."  Hob makes a face, wiping his fingers clean in a bit of chest hair that's still dry.  "Well, if we're going to make a habit of it.  Maybe I should shave all this off."

Dream stiffens, pushes up further, gives him the most affronted look possible.  "You will not."

"Oh, I won't?"

"Hob Gadling.  I will not allow it."

Hob is ready to say something lightheartedly over-dramatic about 'you DARE presume to tell me what I can or can't shave', but something in Dream's tone stays him.  There's a note of flagrant alarm underneath the imperiousness, and Hob smirks as the lightbulb goes on.

"Got a real weakness for body hair, haven't you."

Tagging, no obligation, but I would love to see if you feel like sharing:  @galacticstingray , @rooftopwreck , @chaosheadspace , @staroftheendless , @teejaystumbles

[missamyrisa2]

Hey there~ ^^ I was never much into tickle writings or fictions until I came across yours a few years back. Your teasy style and attention to detail really drew me in and kept me wanting more. It also further inspired me to take up the practice myself; and needless to say I've been having an absolute blast writing ticklish fantasies. So thank you for the influence! ❤ With that said, could you write a set up where I'm hogtied and you both tickle my feet as well as tease me with yours? 👀

Hiii~<33 I am soo flattered that my words could have such an effect, especially because the one and only thing I ever wanted to do with my writings was to spread tummy tingles and silly giggles ~<3

But alsoo~ I don't do well with flattery ~ and my dear, inspiring such a hot blush in my cheeks comes with quite a toll. You'll certainly see my expression fluctuate from flattered to wicked tickly intent, the little knowing smirk curling on my purpley lips and my eyes alight with feathery insight ~ and it's far too late for subterfuge, my wiggly fingers have already ensnared your ankle as you try to squirm away. "What do we have here? It's a silly girl with a ticklish foot~" I pluck away your footwear with a gentle sneer, tossing it aside and ceremoniously wriggling my fingers for you before raking them down the sole. "Hmmm. Ticklish foot!" I muse, making kissy faces at your reactions. "Ahh, another cute footsy" I ensnare your other leg, keeping both wrapped around my arm over my lap. Another shoe goes flying and nails are raking under your toes. I reach back to tease behind your knee for good measure too. "Coochie coooo. Does that tickle? Are you a ticklish little flatterer? You silly gigglebug. I'm gonna make you melt, oh yesss I am. Silly girl. Listen to you squeak! Is it just so bad under your toes? Hmmm? How about this inner curve. Yeah? How much does it tiiickle? On a scale from one to ten. Tell me, tell me how much it tickles~" I taunt and coo, mimicking your ticklish sounds as I wear you down. "Ticklish ticklish ticklish? Is that what you're saying? You're ticklish! Why, I never would have guessed!"

With your resistance thoroughly diminished, I rise up and playfully start tickling your sides. "Gotta work the giggles out here too. You need to be nice and exhausted if we're gonna get to the main event. Let it all out now, all those giggles for me. Oooh, I'm good at tickling? Flattery just gets you more tickles!" I taunt, squeezing and massaging at your midsection. I move up and start gliding my nails along your ribs briskly, working up to flutter in your underarms until you are a giggle goo pile under me. "There we go, just breathe now. Let Amy take care of you, sweet girl." With a jingle and a shuffle you hear me breaking out my equipment for the next round. I position your legs to point skyward, playfully stroking my fingers down your rump and thighs. "Don't try to fight me now, if you would juuust cooperate~ ahh" I lock your feet together with padded cuffs, then turn and start bringing your arms back, lovingly running my nail tips over your inner elbows. "Pretty tickly girl, you're in soo much trouble, you know that? There's no escape for you now. You're allll mine~". With a snap, I have your wrists together. I dangle the metal chain in front of you, the shiny links are all heart-shaped, and start humming happily as I bind your ends together completing my work.

I let you wiggle in your hogtie for a bit, feeling the helplessness. I pace around your bound form like a cat, pausing to rest my dark purple painted toes right by your face. “Y’know, my toes are ticklish too. Especially right under the bottoms, like that little valley? Just the tiniest touch, the tiniest touch, will make me scream like crazy. I want you to think about that my gigglebug, think about that while you writhe and squirm in my little heart-shaped web, think about it while I tickle you to bits. You could make it all stop if you could just get a single solitary finger under my toes~” I murmur, leaning over to start scratching at your helpless feet. “Think about it, think about now.” I giggle, dancing my nails over every wrinkle on your sole, testing their shape and curve, probing for reactions. “Oooh good spot there. You still thinking about it? Why, I can wriggle my lil finger just back and forth, back and forth on this line and you melt with giggles don’t you? Does it tickle so much? Tell me all about it. Tell me about your ticklish feet.” I make my toes wiggle before you, occasionally letting them brush your cheek even as I stand domineering over your ticklish body. “How often do fantasize about me tickling your feet?” My fingers earnestly skitter up the insides of your feet while I question and chat away, moving up to grasp your big toes playfully. “When do you try to tickle yourself? Because you’re such a tickle bug. You can’t help it, can you? Touching these cute little toes. Naughty thing. I know a self tickler when I see one. I think a naughty ticklish thing like you needs teases. Oh yes. Plenty of teases.”

I give my fingers a rest and pick up a bottle of oil, showing it to you as I kneel down. “Yes, yes. Definitely this.” I hold my hand out in front of your giggly face and let the oil drip out slowly, showing you with agonizing slowness how I test it in my palm, rubbing it slowly with girlish excited squeaks. “Mmmhmm. Mmmh. Oily oily tickles for you.” I bounce up and start merrily rubbing your feet, massaging in the slippery oil. With loving strokes I make your ticklish skin so shiny over your helplessly wriggling bound body. “My, my, look at how pretty these feet are. And your toes, so wiggly~ how much do you love it when I tickle these toes? Tell me know. Let’s hear it giggle girl. And call me mama too, come on ~ call me your tickle mommy~” I snicker and laugh at my own silliness, repositioning to make sure my polished toes and feet are wiggling right by your face, before moving to let them poke and caress your giggly sides. “And now, we polish. Brusha brusha booooo~” I coo out, equipping my palms with nubbly scrubby brushes. The soft tips work their magic over your slick shiny soles, excitedly rubbing up and down, back and forth, and digging in under your toes too. “Laugh it all out now. Laughter is so good for the soul. Esepcially ticklish laughter. I think I read a book about that. Chicken soup for the ticklish ticklee? The art of tickle war? Tickle, love, tickle? I dunno. I’m just gabbing now. How about those toe kisses? Those toe kisses?” I’m leaning in, letting you feel the hardness of my teeth touching on the pillow surface of your toe before laying a muah on each one. I kiss down the line, giving each wiggly ticklish toe its time as my thumbs continue to rub lovingly on each sole. 

With you nice and wiggly giggly gaspy and weak, I plop myself down and start taunting you again with my toes, holding them close to your face. “Now then, some kisses for your tickly Amy Amy?”

[noliaert]

NOLIAERT'S IWTV WIPS

Okay so I thought to show off some of my WIPs for IWTV (amc), especially since I've not managed to finish off most of my WIPS regardless of how excited I have been for them :/ IWTV in 2022 was like a muse to me! I had so many wips! But little or nothing to show for it (cause extensive projects got overwhelming) 😔 I have however finished off 2 loumand pieces since S2 started off, 1 that had too been a wip from 2022 (I'll edit in a link once I post it, I've done so on twitter, but I feel the need to fix on some things... majorly is the issue one of the louis-es as it was a 3, initially 4,-in-1 piece :/ was rushing cause of the looming loumand divorce and doom, otherwise known as S2 "trial" finality, was approaching... and I was feeling 😅 about the reception of softer loumand kisses at the time. Like- timing!)!

1. Batnight: I worked out this timeglass composition to symbolise Louis' transformation into vampirism after he entered that church one fateful night. The trifecta of the vampfam, the time encapsulated by death and by blood, something which Louis seemingly has a different relationship to than most living vampires as the "tortured vampire". All focusing on the drop of blood, but with different expressions. Idk if i should do anything with the background of the bottom half of the timeglass though 🤔I'm meant to sketch out Louis' family and community from the wedding on the top half, as the sun sets (or rise...) behind the family home (sorry), a life now closed off to him. Vampires and bats- uncontested. The church? It is one from New Orleans S1 and I remember asking for the ref, but I am uncertain that it is the correct church when thinking back on it. Which is 🧍 Also as I started on this late 2022, I had only Bailey!Claudia to go off of, which I'll probably stick to for this one. Would be cool with both! But idk if I can extend that energy. I do need to figure out which of her hairstyles to do though 🤔 and I've been learning more about how to draw black hair so that's fun too

CLAUDIA WIPS! (Both from late 2022)

2: For the first one? Something about the tragedy of claudia, for S1, leaning towards the middle, Claudia the child, the eternal teenager, but a breaking into maturity and adulthood, on... the child witnessing the troubles of their parents, and of the child failed by their parents. Claudia standing in ashes alone (oh not the born from ashes turned to ashes 😭 at least she wasn't entirely alone by the end but had someone choose to face the same fate with her over her own living ♡), looked down upon from our pov to showcase her continued positions of disadvantage. Not the most thought out composition or anything, just wanted to draw Claudia, but these were the things I was thinking about while doing so. Also just really want to try make more dynamic compositions. Try that is.

3: The second one is me wanting to either do a 3-piece with smaller edits, or a 3(+?)-in-1, showing off a little vaguely different stages in Claudia's life back in S1. Or maybe a combined 1 if I figure it out. Combining the cutesy and the horror ✌️ Since these were majorly just sketches, I should be able to try draw Delainey!Claudia! And though S2 makes for SO MUCH inspo too, I'm scared to start on more new things. An irony. But I'd like to finish some more ideas.

4 & 5: Lestat wips! First one is really just a sketch trying to capture his face, buuut the second one? My attempts at a gorier more horrific looking corpsestat since I was feeling robbed by the S1 finale? Oh certainly 🙏 gotta figure out how best to pose Claudia and Louis though, to make sure I make the right impression I wanted 🤔 may have to flip him over too... idk just... extensive work, but I've been especially excited about this one as well as batnight (and the soon-to-be-posted loumands)!! Both from late 2022.

6: St. Paul! Ah the brothers! 🙏 the impact his family, and specifically Paul, has on Louis cannot be understated (S2E8 final dubai scene 😊). Kinda get so emotional when I've been rewatching S1E1 too ;-; another wip from 2022! I so rarely have seen pieces of Louis' family, or human family, which is a shame. I really wanted to do one for Louis and Paul though, and so I ended up with this wip meant to symbolically (far from vague though hah) capture some of that "confessional relationship" (can't escape the catholism) they had, but in a more playful youthful setting. Lowkey pointing towards an elevated sainthood of the future dead too. Paul being Louis' closest confidante, and someone who wanted to be a priest. Many thoughts on Paul really. Paul practicing I suppose, during their teenage years, Louis happily entertaining him and then glancing over his shoulder at- I am thinking Grace, their sister. I found the angle of Louis' head challenging though (been feeling intimately on my limitations), and as it is, I need some refs of Jacob to actually capture HIM too, and not just the angle.

Now unfinished iwtv wips from 2024...

Armand wips! But yea, I already had ideas, but I've felt prompted during S2 to draw more Armand due to the whole Assad Zaman fanbook thing that I thought could be nice to join in on. I've struggled to draw though, even if I have finished the 3-in-1 loumand thing and the spontaneous loumand cig-kiss piece, so I was really damn rushing 😅

7: It's possible I'm mixing ideas... different intents. So I'll have to review it again. I wanted one more bitey one, I was thinking of the "easeful death" scene of E5, but with a different angle. Was initially thinking active feeding I think, with half-lidded eyes or direct eye contact... to put emphasis on the darkening of his eyes in those moments. It's funky and I really wanted to draw it, though I guess this is getting too distant to really see it much. Something something generally about vampirism, a general victim, putting emphasis on the blood that they provide. First by extended blood dripping down the throat, now by the body being the blood fully visually. Something classy, yet... I want to reposition the arms and have the head burrowed further into the neck to actively feed as first intended. I also think I am certainly thinking about an intimate art piece for the whole gentlemanly death feel, so maybe i should try actually find the piece for reference. Also, it's not exactly in this sketch, but I too want to have him in that E2 or E3 coven suit, with vague coven/cult figures in the background. We never really see him feed (properly, of a human), but I've been thinking about the... parent providing food for his children thing (motorbike scene E2), or the "let me teach you" of E3... So a "lead by example" sort of thing, like pre of the picture of the mountain lion and her cub feeding of a carcass sort of thing XD leant too much into the whole typical romantic imagery as I kept going and finally got some of that posture right (and so I tought). But these are the ideas ✨️

8: Armand too got ahold of a switch btw <3 Armand and electronics huh, or... not necessarily only electronics and technology. There's a general almost manic curiosity, which is especially found in that one DM chapter that I kind of adore (smh to private island and blabla tho). A mood, though I'm not making ratshakes 🫢 Assad was talking about it too in an interview though, relating to that fascination, so I kinda wanted to make a piece leaning in on that. Had a few vague compositions, some with more of that almost cold intensity of E5, but here he's more just chilling (doesnt mean it doesnt get intense) ^^ I also wanted to display an evolution of technologies, at least within a certain timeframe, so physically stacking a room with different stuff? Like that works XD because I was rushing for the deadline, I fear I only got to send in the wip (one in an even earlier stage than this one)... which is a real shame 😔 I am excited to finish it though!

Anyway 👍

[maria021015]

SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 41 AHEAD!

On a dark desert highway - cool wind in my hair, warm smell of colitas rising up through the air. Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light. My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim. I had to stop for the night.

There she stood in the doorway. I heard the mission bell, and I was thinkin' to myself, ‘This could be heaven or this could be hell’. Then she lit up a candle, and she showed me the way. There were voices down the corridor. I thought I heard them say…

‘Welcome to the Hotel California! Such a lovely place - such a lovely face. Plenty of room at the Hotel California! Any time of year, you can find it here’

Her mind is Tiffany-twisted. She got the Mercedes-Benz. She got a lot of pretty, pretty boys that she calls friends. How they dance in the courtyard - sweet summer sweat. Some dance to remember, some dance to forget. So I called up the Captain, ‘Please bring me my wine. He said, ‘We haven't had that spirit here since 1969. And still, those voices are calling from far away. Wake you up in the middle of the night just to hear them say…

‘Welcome to the Hotel California! Such a lovely place - such a lovely face. They're livin' it up at the Hotel California! What a nice surprise - bring your alibis.’

Mirrors on the ceiling, the pink champagne on ice, and she said, ‘We are all just prisoners here of our own device’. And in the master's chambers, they gathered for the feast. They stab it with their steely knives, but they just can't kill the beast. Last thing I remember, I was running for the door. I had to find the passage back to the place I was before.

‘Relax’, said the night man, ‘We are programmed to receive. You can check out any time you like but you can never leave!’

The breaks squealed eerily as the bus pulled into the front lot of an old motel. A brightly-lit, flickering neon sign notified them that this particular establishment was called ‘Motel Glen Capri’. Unfortunately, it seemed as though a more fitting name would have been ‘Motel California’, after the similarly-named song ‘Hotel California’. ‘Intertextuality’ - Zaida mused internally, remembering another one of her flashcards. As the brunette peered out the window to the almost completely empty parking lot, she felt ghostly fingers trail a path down her spine, sending goosebumps rippling over her skin. Out of all of the motels Finstock could have chosen to stay for the night, it had to be here. At least their luck of late had been consistent. Consistently awful , that was. She didn’t know why she had expected anything more when hearing that the meet was pushed back due to the extreme weather warning.

“There’s only one other car parked - and it’s probably the person who works here.” She mumbled to the werewolf beside her. There were multiple echoes of slightly-differing but equally strong emotions that knocked against those tightly shut doors in her mind. Something bad had happened here. She could feel the imprint of it, left behind like fossilised tracks. "Maybe there’s a reason."

“It’s not like we have a choice,” Isaac shrugged and rose from his seat to follow the stream of students fast-emptying the bus. “Come on princess, you can put up with it for one night.”

She rolled her eyes at his teasing but followed him regardless, slinging her duffel bag up and over her shoulder. The moment her sneaker-enclosed feet landed on the solid ground, that knocking grew louder.

“...I've seen worse.” Scott tried to be positive as he stood on the asphalt overlooking the dungy building.

“Where have you seen worse?” Stiles scoffed in exasperation, hating the look of the place almost as much as Zaida.

“Listen up! The meet's been pushed 'til tomorrow. This is the closest motel with the most vacancies and the least amount of good judgment when it comes to accepting a bunch of degenerates like yourselves!” Finstock announced in his booming voice as he addressed them all. Ah, so that was why they were here instead of the forest down the road - which would have been a better place to stay in comparison. Maybe the forest animals decided they didn’t have enough room. “You'll be pairing up - girls with girls and boys with boys - so choose wisely. And I'll have no sexual perversions perpetrated by you little deviants! Got that? Keep your dirty little hands to your dirty little selves!”

“Coach, there are an odd number of girls!” Zaida pointed out. The man narrowed his eyes, scanning over the group as if he was counting to make sure she was telling the truth.

“Right,” He nodded when he had finished. “You can pair up with Danny then, thanks for volunteering.”

“Making Danny pair up with a girl just because he’s gay is clear discrimination.” She pointed out mischievously for the sake of arguing with the man. Truth be told, she was grateful it was at least Danny and not Ethan.

“Don’t you start with me, missy.” He pointed a finger at her. “The last time somebody suggested such a thing - thanks McCall - I proved everybody wrong! I love the gays! The man I slept with to prove I wasn’t homophobic was gay - and he was a great guy, bought me dinner and everything.”

“Coach-” Stiles began with a snicker but Finatock blew his shrill whistle to shut him up once more.

“That’s enough!” The man glared at them all and held out the keys he had collected from the front desk for them to take. “Everybody take your keys and leave me alone! If somebody wakes me up from my court-mandated eight hours of NyQuil-induced sleep, there better be a fire. Except for you, Greenberg! Even if the sky was raining down army tanks filled with the living dead, I wouldn’t want you to wake me.”

The group quickly dispersed, undoubtedly discussing amongst themselves how they were going to sneak into each others’ rooms and whatnot. It left Zaida and Lydia standing beside each other, both girls unsure about approaching any closer.

“Lydia...?” Allison turned back to frown at them in questioning. “Zaida?”

“I don't like this place.” The redhead pursed her lips into a thin line with wary green eyes.

“I don't think the people who own this place like this place.” Allison chuckled, brushing off the girl’s concerns for a superficial dislike of a hotel that was anything less than five stars. Normally Zaida would make the same joke, but Lydia was right. The thick and palpable negative energy that shrouded the motel only seemed to grow stronger the closer she got. Maybe it was best if she didn’t admit to that aloud though, considering Lydia was already concerned and they’d have to stay here through the night either way. “It's just for a night.”

“A lot can happen in one night…” Lydia murmured and Zaida drew the girl’s hand into hers, giving her a reassuring squeeze before tugging her forward. Inwardly, she reinforced those doors in her head until the knocking quietened and faded.

“Come on, Lyds. I want to get to my room and freshen up before Danny claims the shower. I have a feeling he has a rigorous pampering routine.” Zaida grinned, attempting to make light of the situation for her friend’s sake.

“With skin as clear and hydrated as his?” She arched a delicate brow. “Definitely.”

As it turned out, Zaida should have been more worried about Ethan and Danny claiming the room to ‘catch-up’. She had walked in, screamed an uncomfortable apology, and walked straight back out with her cheeks burning. Well, so much for claiming the bathroom. After what she witnessed she was sure she didn’t want to touch anything in that room.

Allison and Lydia had both expressed their desires to shower (though the latter may have changed her mind when she saw the state of the facilities), leaving Zaida with two options. She could seek out Isaac’s room and undoubtedly face many teasing jokes and be subjected to Boyd’s deadly mood, or she could swallow her pride and hope that Scott and Stiles would allow her to use their shower. She went with the latter. Her stomach twisted with dread as she knocked on their door and waited for one of them to answer. The blood in her ears beat to the thundering of her pulse, quickening as her thoughts ran rampant uncontrollably. She couldn’t shake the image of Stiles and Lydia sat beside each other with Scott and Allison behind them.

Zaida had never seen the sense in Lydia and Stiles as a match, but now that she knew her own feelings for the boy, perhaps it was always just a subconscious hope that they would never eventuate. One thing was for certain, she held a biased opinion. Coming from an outsider's perspective, she supposed it made sense. The boy had been pining over Lydia for years, and the girl was finally shedding her shallow and vapid self in favour of a new and improved version. In the movies, that kind of a redemption arc would guarantee the boy finally getting the girl. Hearing them work things out together on the bus made Zaida realise that maybe one of the best things about herself and Stiles - their investigative bond - wasn’t only unique to them. The feelings of betrayal, inadequacy and jealousy only rose to the surface once more. Looking on at all four of her friends together and knowing Lydia could easily replace her role in the quartet planted the worry that things wouldn’t have been all that different had Zaida never moved to Beacon Hills. Maybe one day they would realise that too. That they didn’t need her. That she didn’t matter anymore…and maybe she never had.

Her spiralling thoughts and churning guts were silenced by Stiles opening the door to the motel room. The sight of Stiles with wet hair and only a towel wrapped around him, hanging low on his hips, stirred a swarm of butterflies in her stomach. Her lips parted in surprise and she couldn’t stop her eyes from roving the planes of defined muscle of his torso.

“Zaida? Hey, what are you doing here?” The boy's brows furrowed slightly in questioning and her heart only thumped louder in her chest when he leaned against the door frame with his forearm, displaying the veins that webbed prominently beneath the skin.

“Oh, uh…I was just going to ask if you guys were using your shower - which, clearly you were, and are not currently.” She stumbled over her words at a far faster pace than usual in her flustered state.

“Scott already had one and I just finished. Why, did Danny hog all the hot water?” He jested, unaware of her current predicament.

“He never made it to the bathroom, actually. But from the looks of what he and Ethan were getting up to, he will definitely be needing one later.” She raised her brows and swallowed her rising disgust at the memory of what she’d walked in on.

“Oh God, my condolences.” Stiles wrinkled his nose in an expression mirroring how she felt. “You can use ours.”

He finally stepped aside, moving those distracting muscles away from her line of sight and allowing her to function normally again - or semi-normally, at least. When she stepped further into the room Scott shot her a knowing look and she glared at him. Damn those werewolf senses. Dragging her duffel bag with her into the bathroom, Zaida peeled off her musty bus clothes and stepped beneath the hot shower spray. The water pressure wasn’t great, and most of the tiles were edged in pink mold that climbed from the grouting, but at least she felt a bit cleaner when she stepped out. She hadn’t packed any pyjamas - having not planned on staying the night - but she had packed an extra outfit for after the cross country, anticipating how awful it would feel to endure the five hour bus ride back in her sweaty clothes.

When she exited the bathroom Stiles and Scott were lying down on their twin single beds, staring up at the peeled and cracked ceiling. Stiles was fully dressed this time in dark-wash jeans, a grey T-shirt and a maroon jacket that clung to his biceps in a way that made Zaida flush.

“Hey, come here,” Stiles beckoned her over, patting on the thin mattress beneath him. She tentatively took a seat at the end of his bed. “We need your brain.”

“To hell with the rest of me, right?” She snorted sarcastically, though it was only partially a joke. A headache was beginning to play behind her eyes like a drumming in her brain.

“All right, so I have four.” Stiles returned to the conversation he had been previously having with Scott, leaving Zaida to guess at the subject matter. “Lydia and I think that the Darach and the alpha pack are preparing for war against each other. The alphas are expanding their pack, and the Darach is committing human sacrifices for power - however that works.”

“Four? You have four suspects?” Scott raised a brow towards his hairline. So that’s what they were talking about. Scott finally allowed his best friend to discuss the identity of the Darach.

“Yeah, it was originally ten. Well, nine, technically, I guess - I had Derek on there twice.” Stiles lifted his shoulders into a half-shrug.

“Well, I guess we can cross him off, now that he’s… you know.” Zaida muttered. She was still bitter about Stiles and Lydia working together without her.

“So, who's number one? Harris?” Scott brushed off her comment.

“Just because he's missing, doesn't mean he's dead.” Stiles nodded in confirmation.

“So, if he's not dead, our chemistry teacher is out secretly committing human sacrifices...?” Scott added skeptically.

“Yeah, I guess that just sounded way better in my head.” Stiles winced when he realised how far-fetched his theory sounded aloud.

“Harrris is definitely sketchy, but why would he write ‘Darach’ on his graded papers and leave them on his desk if it was him? That’s self-incrimination at the most , and giving us crucial information the Darach wouldn’t want people knowing at the least.” Zaida pointed out.

“Maybe he was trying to throw suspicion off, or maybe the alphas got to him before he could clean it up?” The Sheriff’s son suggested.

“I don’t think so. He was leaving a message - like he knew he was going to be taken. Maybe he knew who the Darach was.” Zaida offered.

“Well, what if it's someone else from school? Like, you remember Matt? We didn't know that he was killing people…” Scott interjected, trying to be helpful.

“Excuse me? I'm sorry, what? I-“ Stiles craned his neck, leaning up to look at his friend with an appalled expression. “Yes, we did! I called that from day one , actually.”

“Yeah, but we never really thought that it was Matt…” Scott chuckled lightly.

“I was serious! I was quite serious, actually! Deadly serious! No one listened to me!” Stiles scoffed and got to his feet in his outrage.

“I listened to you,” Zaida mumbled under her breath. Between his comment just then and how he had only validated her earlier theory of Scott’s injury-origins when Lydia had said it, she felt entirely overlooked.

“Who were the other three?” The werewolf pulled them back on track.

“Derek's sister, Cora - no one knows anything about her, and she's Derek's sister.” Stiles tucked down another finger as he demonstrated the list on his hand. “Next, your boss.”

“My boss?” Scott repeated in surprise, sitting up.

“Yeah, your boss. I don't really like the whole Obi-Wan thing he's got going on, you know? It freaks me out.” Stiles explained and at Scott’s confounded look his jaw dropped. “...Oh, my God! Have you still not seen Star Wars?!”

“I swear, if we make it back alive, I will watch the movie.” Scott sighed in defeat.

“That’s ‘movies’ plural, Scotty boy.” Zaida corrected.

“How many are there?” He questioned with a clueless frown.

“Three in the original trilogy, three in the prequels, three in the sequels, three non-canon Ewok spin offs, two standalone spin offs, then the Clone Wars film and tv show, and most recently, the Kenobi and Ashoka spin-off shows. Plus the holiday special, Star Wars Rebels, The Mandelorian, Andor, The Book of Boba Fett, Lego Star Wars, the upcoming Droid Story film...” Zaida listed them as Scott’s eyes only grew wider and wider along with Stiles’ broad smile. “Do you want me to keep going?”

“No!” Scott shook his head definitively and changed the subject. “Stiles, you said you had four. Who was the last suspect?”

“...Lydia. She was totally controlled by Peter, and she had no idea, so…” The boy admitted with a grim expression.

“What? My best friend is not going around committing human sacrifices!” Zaida blurted in defence of the girl, in disbelief that he had even suggested such a thing.

“I’m not saying she’s doing it on purpose. When Peter controlled her, she had no clue what she was doing. He could be doing it again. Think about it, Lydia found one of the bodies and has no idea how she ended up there.” Stiles elaborated on his theory, and when he put it that way Zaida supposed it was an undeniable possibility. “Maybe she didn’t just find the body.”

“I need some food.” She rubbed at her temples, easing the tension there as she got to her feet.

“I’ll come with you. I saw a vending machine on our way in.” Stiles offered, though it was more of a demand than a question. He was up and leading the way out of the door in only a few moments.

“You coming, Scotty boy?” Zaida looked to the werewolf hopefully, not quite wanting to be alone with Stiles right now.

“No, you guys go.” Scott was too zoned-out to pick up on her silent plea for his company, leaving a disappointed Zaida to trail after Stiles.

“Maybe this isn’t the best idea - you and vending machines don’t exactly have a long-standing history of a good relationship.” The brunette pointed out in a sarcastic drawl as she followed after the boy outside, walking along the balcony that was lined with other room numbers.

“That was ages ago. I’m a changed man, Zaida.” He winked at her. Certainly he was a changed man. Compared to that hyperactive little boy and self-assured, strong-willed girl they were back then, both of them had changed. He was a bit calmer now - though still chaotic - and more confident. As for herself? Well she wasn’t so sure anymore. She’d thought that she’d found her place in Beacon Hills - that she meant something, and that she made a difference. She’d thought that now that she was in more control of her abilities, she was powerful. Last night at the mall only proved to her how wrong she had been. She was completely worthless, her ice shards discarded in a split second by a blind man. If it weren’t for Allison and her flash arrows, them being there would have been a disaster. There was nothing Zaida could do to help her friends, or her brother for that matter. In fact, all she had done was force Xander to paint a target on his back to protect her. The only difference she had made was that she’d somehow managed to make the situation entirely worse.

“You’re uncharacteristically quiet. What’s going on in that brilliant mind of yours?” Stiles wondered, his analytical amber eyes arrowing on her - able to see right through her to the turmoil within. ‘Brilliant’ - she snorted audibly. Not so brilliant that she could figure out the Darach and alphas were opposing sides in an upcoming battle. Not so brilliant that she could find a way to save her brother from the fate she bestowed upon him. Not so brilliant that Stiles would believe her theories before Lydia confirmed them.

“I’m fine, Stiles.” She spat back with more venom in her tone than she intended.

“Okay, now I definitely know something is wrong. When you say you’re fine, you’re not fine. Ever .” He shook his head. “Is it about Deucalion? About what happened last night? Everyone’s been fussing over if Scott’s okay because his mental anguish manifested in a physical injury, but no one’s asked if you’re okay, have they?”

“You did,” She answered in quiet realisation. He’d cared enough to question if she was up to this trip even before getting on the bus. That small gesture kept that tiny flame of hope burning in her chest, and it was enough to light up the consuming darkness.

“How are you holding up with it all?” He asked with sympathy softening his molten-honey eyes.

“Well, the werewolf who murdered my parents is just waltzing around Beacon Hills, and Xander is next on his hit-list because of me. Yet I’m here on a Cross Country meet while he’s probably running - or fighting - for his life. If he even still has it. So I’d say I’m doing fabulously.” Her lips pulled into a tight and sarcastic smile.

“You know it’s not your fault, right? There was no way for you to have known any of that was going to happen.” Stiles attempted to reason with her, but guilt was far stronger than logic. It clawed at her insides, raking deep scrapes into her very bones.

“But it is my fault, whether I meant for it to happen or not. I’m the reason my brother might be dead right now.” She swallowed hard, her self-disgust and inadequacy rising thickly in her throat. It was sickening.

“You…you don’t know that. Xander could be safe.” The boy tried - the way she was speaking was entirely foreign. He’d never heard her talk like that before. Zaida always had a plan B, and then a plan C, or D, all the way through to Z. She always seemed to know what to do. Always appeared two steps ahead of the rest of them. Zaida Callis never gave up. But right now, she sounded entirely hopeless, and it struck fear into his gut. “Your brother knows what he’s doing - he’s police trained and he’s a Hunter trained by the Argents - the oldest Hunter family ever! He’ll be okay.”

“I hope so,” She muttered, not wanting to talk about this anymore. Not even with him. Talking about it only meant she had to think about it, and she was already thinking about it enough. Zaida was thankful when the two of them descended the noisy metal staircase and reached the vending machine beneath it, effectively cutting off their conversation. Boyd was standing and staring at the glass with another one of his famous deadpan expressions as he punched in the buttons on the keypad to select Peanut Butter Crackers.

“Hey! That was the same thing I was gonna get.” Stiles grinned in a friendly fashion as he peered nosily from next to the beta. The metal swirl holding the snacks rotated, but not enough to release the packet into the drop-chute. “Oh, hang on...You know what? I got a patented method for this, don't worry-”

“Stiles,” Zaida let out an exhausted sigh as the boy gripped the machine from its top, preparing to shake it. Boyd interrupted them both, punching straight through the glass with a closed fist, the rest of him not moving so much as an inch. He snatched his snack from the machine and turned on his heel, leaving without so much as a word. “Oh my God…” She frowned as her eyes followed the werewolf. What was it with people in Beacon Hills breaking vending machines?

Stiles, on the other hand, took the opportunity to grab as many items as he could hold, cautious eyes darting about for anyone who might see him committing vending machine theft. “How are you the son of the Sheriff?” Zaida tutted at his law-breaking tendencies.

“It’s because I'm the son of the Sheriff,” He assured her and ushered her away from the scene of the crime, back up the stairs and towards him and Scott’s room.

“Oh no, I’m not going to get caught for you pillaging the motel vending machine. You’re on your own, buddy.” She held up her hands and shook her head, splitting off in the opposite direction with a lazy salute.

“I thought you were hungry?” Stiles called out as she turned back.

“Not anymore. Crime makes me lose my appetite,” She jested dryly. In truth, she really couldn’t bear being around him right now - not when every time she looked at him, she only saw him sitting beside Lydia in that bus.

Unfortunately Danny and Ethan were not yet ‘finished’ in her own room. Zaida discovered that the hard way, and was left with yet another dilemma - she could retreat to Stiles and Scott’s room with her proverbial tail between her legs, or she could seek out Lydia and Allison. She went with the lesser of the two evils and ventured a bit further down the upstairs walkway to where she knew the redhead and huntress were situated. When Lydia opened the door for her and ushered her inside, Zaida wasn’t expecting the vile and acrid taste of jealousy to bubble over and leave a bitter taste in her mouth - but it did. How did the girl still look so beautiful after five hours in a car - over two of those hours spent in a crowded bus? She hadn’t even had a shower or changed her clothes. She looked exactly as perfect as she had looked when she was seated next to Stiles, having him gaze at her with his amber-eyes.

“Come on in, you can sit anywhere you like, although I wouldn’t recommend it,” The redhead wrinkled her nose in disgust at the state of the accommodation they were put up in.

Even that somehow looked adorable on her small button nose. When Zaida did that, she always thought her straight-bridged European nose simply looked like a wrinkled beak. That feeling of inadequacy boiled once again within Zaida. In all of their friendship, she’d tried hard to not compare herself with Lydia, knowing it would never end well. But now she couldn’t help it. Zaida was suddenly very aware of the differences between her and her best friend. The redhead had captured Stiles Stilinski’s heart, for starters, without even trying to do so. She was much prettier as well. In fact, in more ways than not Zaida paled in comparison to the redhead’s beauty and other talents. She wasn’t musical enough, wasn’t artistic enough, wasn’t as intelligent. It was as if all of the things Zaida had prided herself for, Lydia could do better.

“Oh, hey Zaida,” Allison flashed her a bright smile from where she was kicked back on her bed, typing away at her phone.

With a jolt Zaida realised it was not just Lydia, but Allison as well who was better than her. Zaida had been utterly powerless the night before, but Allison had held her own, likely saving Scott and Isaac along with the other members of Derek’s pack with her flash-bomb arrows. Zaida wasn’t that skilful, or that calm in the face of danger. She wasn’t calculated enough, wasn’t knowledgeable enough. Zaida simply wasn’t enough. Not enough of anything.

“What are you guys up to?” Zaida took a seat on the end of Lydia’s untouched bed in what she hoped was a casual manner.

“Lydia was just filling me in.” Allison nodded towards the still-standing redhead.

“Stiles and I think that the Darach and the alpha pack are related, just not in the way we first believed. In ancient cultures, ritualistic sacrifices in preparation for battle were quite common. The Darach could be committing these sacrifices for the same reason the alphas are recruiting - they’re preparing for battle. Likely against each other.” Lydia’s lips drew into a tight line as revealed what she thought was new information. Little did she know that Zaida had heard it twice before - once on the bus and once from Stiles’ own mouth.

“Yeah, I heard,” She nodded, trying and failing to keep the bitterness from her tone. Thankfully, neither of the girls picked up on its true origins, attributing it to the stress of the challenges before them.

“Now that you mention it, I was going to ask about that,” Allison put her phone away and leaned forwards against her propped up knees.

“About what?” Lydia arched a perfectly shaped brow. Zaida could already tell she wouldn’t like where this was going at all. She’d pretty much reached boiling point already and was not prepared to hold herself back from the edge much longer.

“About you and Stiles,” The huntress prodded purposefully, waiting for a reaction to confirm her suspicions, yet not the ones Zaida immediately assumed they were. The huntress had noticed a change in the way Stiles interacted with Lydia - a change that she thought might mean the boy had moved on. “You two seemed like you were getting along pretty well on the bus. I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you guys have a one-on-one conversation without him bumbling over his words or making a pass at you.”

“Yeah, well hopefully that means his pathetic little crush on me is a thing of the past,” The redhead rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. “Seriously, what did he think was going to happen? A girl says ‘no’ enough times and you’d think he’d catch the hint.”

“It isn’t some ‘pathetic little crush’,” Zaida snapped and Allison’s eyes shot towards her, widening slightly. Her friend’s dismissive attitude towards Stiles’ feelings only made Zaida’s growing frustration and agitation spike, tipping her over the edge.

“Following me around like a stray puppy-dog begging for scraps is pretty pathetic, if you ask me.” The redhead joked with an amused hum, so used to haughtily brushing off his affections that she did so mindlessly. It only propelled Zaida further down the emotional spiral she’d been descending all afternoon.

“Don’t you realise just how incredibly lucky you are?!” Zaida’s face flushed with anger and it was only then that Lydia recognised something was wrong. “That boy would do anything for you. He cares about you so much and you don’t even have to look twice at him. He’s never pushed you, he’s never asked for anything more than what you were willing to give him. He is so unbelievably loyal and devoted that he knew you were never interested and he still hasn’t moved on for the slim chance that one day you might want him back.”

“Zay, I didn’t mean-” The redhead swiftly tried to backtrack when she opened her eyes to how she’d offended the girl. “He’s just not my type…”

“He is hilarious, and selfless, and thoughtful, and a complete genius! I don’t know what else you could want from him. He’s perfect, Lydia, and I’m hopelessly falling for him when all he can see is you!” Zaida was yelling now, her chest heaving when she realised the reality of what she had just blurted. Her hands flew to cup her mouth and she let out a strangled sob of surprise, tears welling. For a brief period of silence everyone was frozen, not knowing what to do or say in reaction to her outburst.

“...I’m sorry. I…I don’t know where that came from.” Zaida cleared her throat with a quiet voice. Lydia took a step towards her, green eyes wide in shock and sympathy, but Zaida held an arm out to stop the girl in her tracks. She just needed some space for a moment to deal with the overwhelming wave of anxiety that washed over her. “Don’t…just…don’t.”

“Zaida…I had no idea.” Lydia slowly and tentatively took a seat on the bed beside the brunette. She inwardly scolded herself. Of course she’d had no idea - she was so self-absorbed that she’d neglected to notice how her best friend was feeling when now that she thought about it, it had been so obvious. Those lingering looks during training before summer break, and the way her eyes would light up when talking about something stupid he’d said or done. It had been in the way she’d gone silent when the three of them would hang out together and Stiles would make a flirty joke that Lydia would ignore. “How…how long?”

Zaida didn’t answer. Her head hung low, heavy from the weight of her shame. This was not how she’d intended to inform her friends of her feelings. In fact, she hadn't wanted to tell them at all, afraid of how things might change between her and Lydia. She’d never wanted the redhead to feel guilty - after all, it wasn’t her fault that Stiles had chosen her. It wasn’t her fault that Zaida wasn’t enough. She could see from the girl’s wide green eyes that it was too late to prevent that now. “I don’t know…” She finally ground out in a hoarse voice. “A while?”

Allison scooted over her bed to sit on the edge, coming closer to offer her support. “How long have you known ?” She reframed Lydia’s question, remembering how Zaida had brushed it off when she’d last suggested such a thing - the night that they’d hunted Cora and Boyd. The warmth and compassion behind her dark brown doe eyes softened the pounding in Zaida’s temples, like the steady rhythm of a song beating against the walls of her mind.

“The beginning of summer, when we went to the beach house.” She admitted, releasing some of the built-up tension within her with her confession.

“But that was months ago?” Lydia exclaimed. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“There was no point - Stiles has made his feelings for you pretty damn clear. There’s nothing you could have done. There’s still nothing that you can do.” The brunette shook her head. “Stiles likes you, Lydia. He knows that you might not ever like him back, but he can’t help how he feels - the same way that I can’t help how I feel. And I can’t blame him for not liking me, just like I can’t blame you for his feelings.” Now that everything was out in the open, that knocking in her mind had quietened, allowing her to calm her raging storm of emotions. Five things. “I’m honestly surprised that you didn’t notice - everyone else did.”

Lydia turned to Allison for confirmation and the huntress answered with a sad smile. “Even you?” The redhead raised her brows in surprise.

“I suspected it for a while, but when I teased Zaida about it she immediately turned the subject around onto me…” Allison trailed off as she recalled the moment she had known it to be true.

“Who else knew?” Lydia questioned. The fact that she was the last one to figure it out when Zaida was her best friend only added to her growing sense of guilt.

“I thought Scott was the first - he could smell it in my chemo-signals. But now that I think about it, Danny and Isaac were making comments from months before that…” Zaida thought back to all of Danny’s jokes that she’d brushed off, and that one time Isaac had pointed out to her that all of the qualities that had attracted her to him , Stiles also possessed. Four things.

“Oh my God, I’m the worst friend ever,” Lydia shook her head in disbelief. How could she have been so blind - so self-absorbed - that she hadn’t seen it?

“You are not the worst friend ever - in fact you’re far from it.” Zaida rushed to defend Lydia from her self-criticism, reaching to squeeze her hand supportively. Three things. “You were going through everything with Jackson, and on top of that you were helping me with training, and my parents’ murder, and finding out what I am. It’s not your fault that I didn’t tell you.”

“I just wish that you would have said something,” Lydia mumbled, tilting her head in an empathetic expression and gripping Zaida’s hand tightly.

“I knew that telling you about it would have only made you feel bad for something you couldn’t control.” Zaida sighed deeply. “I didn’t want you to feel like that, and I didn’t want to let it come between us.”

“It doesn’t have to,” Lydia promised determinedly. “We’re not going to let it.”

Zaida responded with the warmest smile she could muster despite the cold creeping further into her bones.

After a while of hanging out in the girls’ motel room, thoroughly avoiding the subject of Stiles Stilinski and talking about anything and everything else, Allison decided to have a shower. The huntress looked up from where she was rifling through the bathroom cupboards, pulling out a stack of towels, carrying them over to where the other girls were laying side by side on Lydia’s bed.

“I don’t think these towels are clean…” The taller girl trailed off, looking at the items with an unsure expression while Zaida and Lydia drew their attention away from taking selfies on the redhead’s phone.

“No kidding,” Lydia took a short sniff and pulled back quickly. “That smells like a chronic smoker hid their cancerous lungs in it.”

“Maybe they forgot to change them,” Allison attempted to brush it off kindly, whereas Lydia looked pissed off.

“Or maybe, they just never change them. Maybe these bed sheets are years old. Maybe, they never clean anything.” The redhead prattled on with her hands crossed over her chest in a sassy pose.

“Ugh, I really need a shower though,” Allison pulled at her slightly-oily brown hair with an apprehensive expression.

“Don’t you even think about it,” Lydia snatched the towels from her so the brunette couldn’t use them and bounced to her feet. “I’m going to go down to the office and give these people a piece of my mind. This place is in violation of like a hundred health safety laws.”

“I’ll go with her to make sure she doesn’t cuss anyone out.” Zaida rolled her eyes fondly at the redhead and followed her out of the room.

There was no stopping Lydia when she was on a mission. The girl’s heeled boots clacked against the metal staircase as she strutted her way to the management office window, dropping the towels down on the bench and addressing the older lady there, who had her back to them. “Be nice,” Zaida whispered a reminder to the girl.

“Excuse me? The card on the dresser says we have a non-smoking room, but somehow…all our towels reek of nicotine.” The redhead muttered and the woman turned only for them to see a transparent rubber tube embedded in her throat. A tracheotomy tube, Zaida recognised with a shiver.

“Sorry about that, sweetheart.” The woman rasped in a hoarse voice, clearly damaged from years of heavy smoking. Zaida shot Lydia a stern look and the girl’s lips thinned guiltily for her attitude. As they waited for the lady to return with fresh towels, Lydia’s eyes were drawn to a number framed on the office’s wall.

“What's that? That number?” The redhead questioned, unable to help satiating her curiosity once the lady returned with clean towels.

“It's kind of an inside thing for the motel. My husband insists on keeping it up.” The woman chuckled darkly and the sound sent goosebumps rippling down Zaida’s spine.

“What do you mean?” Lydia prodded further.

“It's a little bit morbid, to be honest…” The owner admitted. “You sure you want to know?”

“Well, with a preface like that,” Zaida raised a brow.

“Tell me.” Lydia nodded impatiently.

“We're not gonna make the top of anyone's list when it comes to customer satisfaction…” The lady began.

“Obviously.” The redhead interjected with a rude scoff and Zaida sent her a reprimanding expression.

“But we are number one in California when it comes to one disturbing little detail. Since opening - more than any other motel in California - we have the most guest suicides.” The woman’s face twisted into a slight smile, a glint in her eyes that was almost disturbing.

“One hundred and ninety-eight?” Lydia confirmed with wide green eyes, double-checking the number as if she didn’t believe she’d seen it correctly now that she knew what it represented.

“And counting!” The woman cackled. If Zaida wasn’t creeped out before, she sure as hell was now.

[headstrongblake]

[ hips ] your muse pulling mine in close by the hips & 'don't look at me like that.' / grant & octavia / @thewholecrew

with the end of the year looming closer, grant's apartment is nearly packed up for his move to a new condo. she's happy for him because he deserves this. deserves some place to start over and perhaps even allow himself to be happy. but as she takes a look around the emptying apartment, all octavia sees are all the moments they've spent together here. the good, the bad, and all the in-between moments played for her as she looked around, following the noise of grant taping together another box. "a lot happened here didn't it..." she said softly, a reminiscing smile on her face as she neared him.

"everything feels like it's changing," she said, her smile fading just a touch, "kass moved in with nick, you're going to move into your kickass condo, i'm going to move into the dorms..." these were good changes, save the reason kassy had to leave her apartment, and yet, it felt just like when she'd been afraid nothing would be the same after graduation. in some ways, nothing had been.

octavia felt a little lost in her reminiscing, fingers trailing along different pieces of furniture in grant's bedroom when his hands on her hips gently pulled her back to him. not everything's changing. octavia smiled a little at that, goosebumps rising at the way his lips grazed against the skin below her ear. "better not," she replied with a smirk, turning towards grant as she leaned up to kiss him. it's easy to lose her thoughts, and herself in these moments with grant. easy to tap into the happy bubble they've been living in recently and so when grant pulls her in, despite the fact she'd come over to help him pack, octavia has no issues deepening their kisses. no issues sliding her hand up his chest before gripping some of his shirt. but as his hands smooth down her back, she can feel the confusion in his kiss that hesitates a little as his hand slips beneath her jacket and shirt. her closed eyes tighten as the warm metal leaves its spot in the waistband of her jeans before she sighs, lashes fluttering open to him. octavia...

although she can't make out the look on his face, unsure if it's surprise, sadness, confusion or, uncertainty as he holds her new choice of weapon and protection in his hand. "what?" she challenges, suddenly feeling a prickle of defensiveness wash over her as octavia created some distance between the two. "it's a gun...anyone can get one." she replied, narrowing her eyes at him. don't look at me like that...

"then don't look at me like you're surprised by this." octavia shot back with a huff, "i almost died, grant...so many things could've happened to kassy, she could've di--" octavia cut herself off then. unwilling to finish her sentence despite the fact that lately, it's all she thinks about. the attacks. the kidnappings. the shooting. kassy's stalker. what if nick hadn't shown up when he did? what if kassy hadn't had her taser or access to knives? "we have to start facing the facts, it's not just your guy's world...this whole city is fucked and you guys can't be everywhere all the time. i can't..." her head shakes. she can't keep being a bystander in all this, waiting for the next tragic thing to happen to her, or anyone else she loves. "grant, i've done the training with rev but..." her eyes lower to the gun grant now held in his hand before slowly lifting to him. it's not enough. the fighting, the blades. they don't bring enough comfort. "the next time something or someone comes at any one of us, i intend to be ready." kassy could have died and knowing that has octavia spiralling for a bit of control.

[stocky2016]

"Scar Tissue"

Kissing the scars from the bruising I've seen

these secrets that whisper your healing I need

My sorrows still haunt me, until I break free,

this heart will mend but when tenderly released.

I'd been badly broken, shattered pieces on the ground

It was only your embrace, that could bring me round.

I felt the healing take hold, soothing was never too late,

reminding me of the world I'd forgotten, needed to re-create

The soul in your eyes, made such a mysterious sight,

along with the energetic passion soaring, free as a kite,

your longing and caress, both ignite my desire;

your attentive presence will forever, light my fire.

You inspire courage when I'm feeling most bereft,

I'll never give up; and mustn't be left...

Give me the strength to carry on, weather the test,

and I'll blossom in your arms , and be nearer my best.

Unforgettable moments, you help me re-live them

each reminder so perfect, I try to relieve, the

residual scar-tissue and a memory that won't easily deceive,

my heart becomes happier, I gently again breathe.

The love that you show me, I swear was so healing

my heart in your hand's a most delightful feeling

Your caring was my special bliss, and so sensitive

forever with you I'll relax again and still want to give.

Novel feelings now fill me, so sweet and so rare,

'cause you love without judgement, without a care.

A love that's unconditional from near and far

peace and joy abound from where ever you are.

Let's open up the curtains and look at the view,

transform every feeling that I thought was through.

Beauty from pain at its darkest once again I'll rise

nothing's ever that hopeless, I can only ever apologise.

In moonlit grace, her scars unfold,

A tale of battles fought, stories untold.

Many eyes have glimpsed the marks she bears,

Yet his was the touch that banished her cares.

With tender lips, he traced each line,

A symphony of healing, love entwined.

In the canvas of her flaws, he found art,

A masterpiece of resilience, a beating heart.

Beyond the surface, where scars reside,

He discovered beauty in wounds that hide.

For every mark whispered a tale of might,

A testament to strength, an emblem of light.

In the quiet moments, his kisses spoke,

A language of love, a vow never broke.

He became the poet of her healing song,

The one who kissed the scars, where she belonged.

© Geoff Stockton  in close collaboration with his co-writing Muse and poetess. © Myriam Ghezaïl Ben Brahim, let's do it all again next year my dear "M"

Graphic courtesy of Google Images Geoff Stockton  in close collaboration with his co-writing Muse and poetess

© Myriam Ghezaïl Ben Brahim, let's do it all again next year my dear "M"

Graphic courtesy of Google Images

(Graphic courtesy of Tumblr Images)

https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.youtube.com/watch%3Fv%3DdRLXZVojdhQ%26vidve%3D5727%26autoplay%3D1&sa=U&sqi=2&ved=2ahUKEwjMp-G2mbeDAxXTTEEAHVnCBrgQyCl6BAgcEAM&usg=AOvVaw0dTcF-CXXaXm0gcjywT5r7