#i was cooking giving breakdown gauges

[2-eeillustration]

Finished Earthspark Bumblebee!! Easily my favorite humanization yet- I'm so glad people seem to catch his vibe🐝💕

[borderlandsthirst]

Flame Angel au

Koetai  

Physical 

Has a long gash going down her back at a slanted angle, it’s decorated with the twins’ snake symbol and a pair of dragon wings. 

Triple pierced ears, a small hoop for the earlobe and studs for the other holes. 

Long kinky hair kept in a ponytail, left side of her hair shaved around the ears. 

Has smaller scars over her body from years of abuse, use to try and cover them but now wears them with pride. 

Fashion since is nonexistent, just like the twins she wears an inconsistent color scheme. 

Has her own symbol she wears on the back of her jacket. A dark orange, six-winged serpent surrounded by flames. 

Has a pet Spiderantling name Natty who grows up to be a badass Spiderant Queen. 

I LIKE BIG BUTTS AND I CANNOT LIE!! 

Long post under the cut along with psychological destress and dark thoughts.

Mental 

Mostly shattered, years of mental and physical abuse has left Koetai in a state of numbness that only eases when the twins are around. 

It’s a bit unstable, can fly off the handle sometimes and takes it out on the followers.  

Has accidentally scratched Tyreen once while having a fit, it didn’t really affect her physically but emotionally she understands what it means to be treated poorly by your parents. Even if it’s not the same kind of trauma. 

Sometimes she’ll just shut down while in the safety of the Cathedral, while working with a saint or one of the twins she just stops and stare into the distance. Takes a while to bring her back 

Has stolen small unimportant items from the twins to take with her while she’s in the field so it feels like they’re with her. She needs them with her. 

Feels empty when the twins aren’t around or isn’t being praised by the followers, she’s the right hand of the twin Gods, she’s the enforcer. How can nobody see how powerful and important she is? 

Is a bit sadistic, will toy with Crimson Raider soldiers like a cat and then kill them in the most gruesome way imagine with her bare hands or a weapon that’s either her’s or theirs. All with a smile on her face. 

Takes pleasure in all pain, mostly people she knows are innocent and not fighters. Why should she care about the pain of children when nobody cared about her’s? 

Personality 

Crazy, that’s to be expected after everything that’s happened to her. 

Will fake you out in a heartbeat, one second she’s quiet and smiling real menacingly in your face, the next you’re lying on the ground bleeding while she walks off with your money and loot. 

Only when she’s with the twins can the girl she could have grown into is revealed, kinda shy in interested in music and crafting. And yoga, she has to be at ease to keep the twins at ease when they’re about to snap. 

Loves Troy and Tyreen but would never tell them (they’ll figure it out on their own eventually), because to her they are real Gods. 

When she’s focused on something she’ll get real quiet so her concentration isn’t broken. Sometime she’ll stick her tongue out the side of her mouth, Troy and Tyreen have many pictures. 

Gets along with the twins amazingly well, it’s almost like they’ve been together forever. Will let Tyreen do her hair and makeup, will let Troy do her nails. All three of them will sleep in a pile. 

Is standoffish towards literally everyone else, the bandits of Pandora remind her too much of a crazy, shitty father. 

See the cultist as demons, they aren’t even lost souls, just ants on the surface of a dry ass planet, but the twins have given them a chance to seek out salvation. She just loves the part where the follows fall out of line, although she hates seeing the twins angry, she loves the killing part.

Troy 

Physical 

Has a pretty nasty scar on his right shoulder leading down to the area across from his ribs. 

Troy protects his damaged area with a skin friendly and cushiony gel liner filled with medical beads. It hugs his shoulder and keeps his bracer in place without causing more harm to his body. 

Wishes for nothing more than to be normal like his sister, he constructs a prosthetic using stolen Hyperion tech that (surprisingly) still works and sprays it his skin tone. 

He has built up muscle mass (but is still skinny around his ribs) still has his eight pack (or is it a six pack?) 

Will cake on so much eye shadow you wonder if it's just a part of his face. And wears more eyeliner that is necessary when in front of a crowd. 

Has nipple piercings, gauges, a lip piercing, and a di- 

Still has the things in his arm (because Idk what they are) that are medical ports the pump nutrition into him. And so does his spinel connecter.  

THICK THIGHS AND ASS!! 

Mental 

Hates his body, even though he has an eight pack he loses weight at a dangerous rate, he has to eat lots of meat every day. 

Has night terrors often and usually wakes up with a knife in his hand. He wishes he could muster his powers to heal himself a real right arm. 

Tyreen usually has to come and calm him enough to get him back in bed, on especially terrible nights she’ll have him sleep with her for comfort.  

When alone he mumbles his mother’s name like a mantra, Leda Calypso. Like saying her name with keep him from going insane. 

Is angry at Tyreen for latching onto him as a fetus and almost killing him, but knows that she obviously didn’t mean to, this kind of thing happens sometimes to twins. And it’s not like she could do anything about the Leech, she was a fetus. 

Doesn’t stop him from hating what happened. Even though he loves his only family member. 

Has found himself thinking about very dark things involving Tyreen and blood. 

Making his prosthetic look like a real arm only broke him more, but even if it looks real, he knows it’s not. 

Personality 

A mask of channeled angsty goth teen energy, not as dramatic as Tyreen, but when he is it’s a fucking show. Overconfident in himself and cocky. 

Doesn’t like when the followers get too close to him, Tyreen, or Koetai. Will act like he gives a damn about his followers at a distance, but if they get too close? He crushes they’re skull with his cybernetic. 

Is a cold and viscous beast with no remorse for anyone, will stump in your ribcage just for looking at him. 

Keeps his personal saints at an arm's length, on Koetai can get close, anyone who steps out of line is, well, dead. 

Behind closed doors he’s all over his machines, he loves to tinker and build. He created the blueprints for the COV’s guns, Koetai’s buzzaxe, and countless other knickknacks across the camps of Pandora. 

Loves beatboxing, will make up some horrible beat in hopes that Tyreen or Koetai will rap or sing to it, can actually sing himself. Has sung the girls to sleep before. 

Records personal logs for himself whenever he’s in the mood, it can be about anything, personal issues, how being the GodKing makes him feel, how there’s really only one asset in his life that’s keeping him together. 

Love to bake, surprising to someone who doesn’t know him. But Troy loves sweets and it’s hard to get that on Pandora, so he makes them himself. 

Tyreen 

Physical 

Tyreen has a matching scar on her left shoulder blade where she was connected to Troy. 

She wears at least two layers of clothing to ensure it stays hidden, it doesn’t matter if it’s hot out, if her scar is covered then she’s satisfied.  

Has perfected a balanced look of dark makeup to make her look grown and sexy since she has a baby face. Sharp eyeliner, dark blue or black eyeshadow, and variety of dark lip-glosses.  

Works out with Troy (but not too much, just enough to stay in shape) so she has a nice four pack. 

Also has piercings, cute little studs for her ears, a nose piercing, nipples too, and a cl- 

Has her mother’s last name tattooed across her lower back. And has the COV logo tattooed on her right shoulder (really to match the eye on Troy’s shoulder.) 

Doesn’t wear a glove on her left had (since it doesn’t do anything nor does it really match the outfit.) 

THICK THIGHS SAVE LIVES, while big booties end them. 

Mental 

Can HEAR the Leech talking to her, trying to convince her to consume more, feed more, TAKE MORE. Has even told her to leech her brother more times than one. 

Was once teetering on the edge of insanity because of the constant whispering in the back of her head, but over the years she’s managed to push it back. But sometimes the voice breaks through again. 

Because of the voice she barely sleeps, it’s not like she needs to, but she can’t even if she needed to. 

Loves her brother with all her heart but feels like he hates her for what she’s done. Sure, she wasn’t even born yet, but she almost killed him before he was even born. 

Actually despises the fact she’s a siren, if she wasn’t a siren Troy would messed up, mom would still be alive, and dad wouldn’t have treated us so coldly. 

Doesn’t have it together as much as she likes to think, would have a mental breakdown behind closed door, Troy has only seen it once and spent hours with Tyreen as she sobbed uncontrollably into his arms. She made sure to never let him witness that again. 

Tyreen has clawed at her tattooed arm a few times, scratched thick deep cuts that immediately heal close, just to be scratched open again. 

Only perusing the Grant Vault for Troy’s sake, hopefully all that power will keep his stable for the rest of their lives. 

Personality 

Egotistical and shamelessly smug. Thinks she’s big shit and that she’s on top of the world. Lives with a shit-eating grin on her face while in front of the camera. 

Actually convinces everyone around her that she truly does care about of her followers (but is really still afraid of them.) Wouldn’t hesitate to punt-kick one in private though.  

Enjoys followers throwing themselves at her feet to offer gifts and praise, but if anyone touches her, even accidently, they’re dead. They’re not even allowed to kiss her boots, she doesn’t want their saliva on her clothes. 

When away from public she is extremely soft and sweet, kisses? She gives kisses to her brother and to Koetai, she is also pretty chill. 

While Troy bakes, Tyreen cooks. She may not need to eat real food but that doesn’t mean she can’t if she wants to. Pasta, sandwiches, a fucking baked potato? You name it, she can make it.  

Loves to sing, her mother said she had the voice of an angel, will perform a little concert for Troy and Koetai and feel flushed and proud afterwards. 

Enjoys painting like no one would believe, has a painting station in the corner of her room where she spends a good amount of time painting pictures of her loved ones, which is only three people, not including her father. 

Enjoys just, sitting outside on her balcony with the fresh air, even if the air is dry and smells like skag shit.  

First time I’ve ever written anything like this and I’m sure I did it badly, still more to come, should work on a position structure or something. Also need to make a layout of the common and working rooms.

[ambereyesandwine]

We’ve Got Soul: Chapter 7

WC: 3239

Warnings: Cussing, Sass, Trauma Denial, Nothing too crazy this time

Beta’d By: @teaspacebar

Notes: Tasia is having a hard time, okay? Gavin continues thriving in his lovely and delicate balance between being the best friend anyone could ever ask for and a complete asshole all the time. Fantasia finally meets Connor, the android sent by Cyberlife! You’ll notice date stamps are significantly closer together now, this is because there is high content density and things are getting spicy. Have fun :)

Chapter 7:

November 6, 2038

7:08 A.M.

           Gavin woke slowly, confusion creeping over his features as the smell of bacon reached him. He squinted as he sat up and looked over the back of the couch to find Fantasia in the kitchen, sipping coffee and frying bacon and eggs. He took a moment to think, trying to recall if the way she broke down last night was just some horrible dream. But it wasn’t. He was on the couch, and if Fantasia had been coherent, she’d have fought him tooth-and-nail to make him sleep in his own bed. He got up to approach her carefully, not wanting to startle her. “Hey Tasia…” He spoke softly and drew out his words a little, trying to gauge her reaction, “What’re you doing?”

           “Making breakfast,” She replied without looking up from the pan she was over. Her tone was even and cool, like it normally was when they’d talk while she cooked.

           “Yeah…” Gavin was still hesitant, “I can see that. But, why?”

           She continued to stare at the food as she answered, “I always make breakfast when I spend the night.”

           “Yeah, but this time is a little different, and I didn’t really expect you to-”

           “Why not?” Her reply sounded confused, like she genuinely had no idea to what he was referring.

           “What is happening right now?”

           “What do you mean?”

           “I mean which ‘Body Snatchers’ movie am I in right now? Do you not remember anything that happened last night? Cause you’re acting like everything’s fine this morning after I watched you almost take Chris down in the process of a breakdown that had you screaming and crying and then totally shut down. I’d expect this after you being pissed or upset but you shut down last night. You being so far gone you won’t even talk to me is the scariest I’ve ever seen you. And now you’re totally normal? I’m not buying it.”

           Fantasia rolled her eyes and scoffed. “I’m fine.”

           “Are you?” He questioned, irritation steadily growing.

           “Yes.”

           “Are you?”

           She turned to him with a fake smile, “I’m fine.” But the tears prickling at her eyes betrayed her.

           “You sure?” He said, crossing his arms and leaning back against the counter, “Cause those say otherwise.” He referred to her tears as he motioned vaguely toward her face.

           “I…” She started, “I don’t know, I’m just-” Her voice cracked and when she tried to take another breath, it came as a sob.

           “Okay.” Gavin stood up and pulled Fantasia into his chest. He stayed as steady as he could to support her while she shook and sobbed into his shirt. “Take your time.” He rubbed her back slowly as he held her until Fantasia’s breathing evened out most of the way. “Do you want to talk about it?”

           “You’re gonna think I’m stupid for being upset. You don’t even like androids.”

           “Yeah, cause they’re fucking robots who think they’re better than us and-” He stopped himself, knowing right now was not the time for that particular rant. “But I know that android meant a lot to you, so if you want to talk, I’m here to listen.”

           Fantasia took a deep breath before she spoke, “He didn’t attack the Manfreds. He wouldn’t have. Markus was always so gentle, and Carl loved him, there’s no way he would have done something like that.”

           “The officers on site said he did, though.”

           Fantasia pulled away from him enough to look Gavin in the eyes. “Did they watch it happen?”

           “No, but the android was roughed up and Carl was on the ground over his son’s unconscious body when my guys went in.”

           She shook her head. “Markus didn’t start that fight. He wouldn’t. Last time I was there, Leo shoved him and Markus didn’t even try to fight back, he just took it. He wouldn’t have hurt Carl on purpose.”

           “Maybe he got tired of it and snapped.”

           “No.” She pulled away from him the rest of the way and leaned against the counter across from him.

           Gavin sighed, “Well-”

           “And even if he did,” Fantasia interrupted, “Even if it was a fight, why was he shot? You arrest people all the time for fights, you never kill them, why is it different?”

           “Because androids are significantly stronger than the elderly people they take care of, Tasia, and they’re not alive.”

           “They’re just as alive as you and I are.”

           Gavin scoffed, “I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that.”

           “What makes us alive that they don’t have?”

           “A heart, for one.”

           “They do, though, it’s called a thirium pump.”

           “Then feelings, and free will.”

           “They have those.” She crossed her arms angrily. “You call it deviancy and think they should be shut down for it.”

           Gavin inhaled like he was going to reply, but the words died in his throat. “Oh.”

           Fantasia nodded. “Yeah, “Oh.””

           Gavin stayed silent for a moment in contemplation before responding, “So they’re alive. That doesn’t mean I have to like them.”

           “You don’t like anybody.”

           “Yeah, so?”

           She sighed. “So, it’s a start. Thank you.”

           “Yeah, whatever.” Gavin mumbled grumpily to himself; he didn’t like being wrong.

           Fantasia closed the space between them and wrapped her arms around her best friend again.

           “I’m sorry about the android. I know he was important to you.”

           “Thank you,” Fantasia sighed.

           “Yeah,” Gavin squeezed Fantasia reassuringly, “How’re you feeling?”

           “Better.” Fantasia’s smile could be heard in her voice.

           “Good, then go take a shower. You reek like rich people booze and old hairspray.”

           “Fuck you!” Fantasia shouted as she pushed Gavin away from her. “I had a rough night, asshole!”

           “Whatever, you stink, go wash.”

           Fantasia rolled her eyes and walked away, flipping her best friend the bird as she entered the bathroom. When Gavin heard the water start running, he got to work on cleaning up the kitchen. He ate as many pieces of bacon as he put in the fridge, but eventually, the only trace left of breakfast was a bacon-egg-and-cheese sandwich that he’d made for Fantasia. Not long after, Gavin heard the bathroom door open, and Fantasia digging around in her drawer of left-behind clothes to find something to wear. She came out in a pair of jeans and a tank top.

           “You’re gonna get cold.”

           “Why would I get cold? I’m not going anywhere.”

           “You’re coming to work with me, I have paperwork to do.” Gavin pushed the plate with the breakfast sandwich toward her.

           “You could always go without me.”

           “And leave you here? Alone with my kitchen knives? Hilarious. Get in the car.”

           “Wait you were serious?” She questioned around a mouthful of food.

           Gavin grabbed his keys from the counter and threw his bomber jacket at Fantasia. “No shit, Sherlock. Let’s go.”

           Fantasia slid the jacket on and swallowed her bite of food. “I love this jacket.”

           “I know.”

November 6, 2038

9:57 A.M.

           Fantasia sat at Gavin’s desk, as per the usual, and doodled on the notepad he kept there for her as she waited for him to be done with his paperwork and meetings. She froze partway through a line when she realized there was a large figure hovering in her peripheral. She turned to face the person and was quickly greeted.

           “Hello. I’m Connor, the android sent by Cyberlife.”

           “Hello, Connor of Cyberlife,” She smiled gently, “I’m Fantasia.”

           “I’m looking for Lieutenant Anderson’s desk. Where is it?” His tone was even and calculated.

           “It’s right over there,” Fantasia pointed toward Hank’s desk. “Why are you looking for him?”

           “We’re working together on a case, but that’s all the information I can give you.”

           Fantasia chuckled lightly, “I get it, no worries. If you need anything, just let me know.”

           Connor approached Hank’s desk and stood for a moment before turning back toward Fantasia. “Excuse me, do you know what time Lieutenant Anderson usually arrives?”

           An officer across the room piped up before Fantasia had the chance to answer, “Depends on where he was the night before. If we’re lucky, we’ll see him before noon.”

           “Thanks.” Was Connor’s static reply.

           Fantasia shook her head, “He’s a good guy, he’s just rough around the edges. You’ll be fine once you get to know him.”

           Connor only nodded slightly. He sat down in the chair by Hank’s desk and looked around the room, then got up and explored the contents of Hank’s desk.

           “Hey, Hank,” Fantasia called out with a small wave.

           “Eh,” He grunted with a nod.

           Connor turned toward the man. “It’s good to see you again, Lieutenant.”

           “Oh, Jesus…” Hank looked less than pleased to see the android.

           “Hank!” Captain Fowler came out of his office and yelled, “In my office.”

           When Hank began to walk away, Connor stayed behind for a moment, as if unsure of what to do.

           “You better go after him,” Fantasia said, gesturing toward the Captain’s office door. “If Fowler has questions, your memory is probably better than Hank’s right now.”

           “Of course.” Connor followed Hank into the Captain’s office and Fantasia was once again left in relative quiet.

           “Hey, you ready?” Gavin questioned, walking up to his desk with a foam cup in his hand.

           “I’ve been ready for an hour.”

           He rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I got you coffee, let’s go.”

           Fantasia stood up and gratefully took the cup. “Cool.” She took a sip as they started to walk out of the station. “Oh, hey, I met the new guy, the investigation android?” Her voice inclined in question of whether Gavin knew him. “He said his name was Connor, he seems sweet.”

           Gavin scoffed. “That android has about as much personality as a wet paper bag. He can do an interrogation though I’ll give him that.”

           “Aww,” She stopped walking and pressed her hand over her heart, cooing at him with a pout on her face, “I forgot.”

           “What?”

           “Well it’s just been so long,” She reached up and played with the hair falling slightly into his face, “I forgot how much of a dick you can be to people you meet in the workplace.”

           Gavin swatted her hand away from his face. “Don’t patronize me.” He said and continued the walk out of the police station.

           “But it’s so fun!” Fantasia said, speed-walking to catch up with the man.

           “You’re a dick.” Gavin said once she was by his side again.

           “How can I be a dick if I don’t have one?”

           “You seem to make it work just fine.”

           “I learned from the best,” She joked as she elbowed him lightly in the side.

           “Yeah, you did,” Gavin smiled at the insinuation that the development of her mean side was entirely his fault. “What do you want to do today?”

           “Go to the studio, I think.” She sighed, sitting down in the passenger seat of Gavin’s car.

           “Have some stuff you need to work out?”

           “Need I recap the last day and a half?”

           “No,” He shook his head, pulling out of the parking lot. “No, of course not. I’ll drive you over there.”

           “Thank you.”

November 7, 2038

11:48 A.M.

           Fantasia woke with a sharp inhale to the sound of her phone ringing loudly. “Hello?” She questioned; eyes still pressed shut as though in protest of her being awake.

           “Fantasia, it’s Carl.”

           She sat up and opened her eyes a little, “Oh, hey Carl,” Fantasia’s voice was thick with disuse, but her tone noticeably perked up upon hearing who was on the other line. “What’s up?”

           “I just wanted to check in with you; see what you’re up to. Did you just get up?” His question was not one of judgement.

           “Yeah, uh, I’m not really sure what time I passed out last night, I was just working on…” Fantasia’s sentence trailed off as she looked over at the wall the housed her project from the previous night. “Woah…”

           “Is something wrong?”

           “I- No, nothings wrong, I was just working on a project last night and I don’t remember getting very far, but now it’s done.” She was still staring at the wall in awe and confusion.

           “Mm,” Carl hummed, “I can’t say I haven’t done that before, but it’s certainly been a while. Why don’t you bring it over? We can take a look.”

           “Okay, I just need to straighten myself out a little first.”

           “Take your time, I’ll send a car for you.”

           “Thanks, Carl.”

           “You’re welcome. I’ll see you soon.”

           Fantasia heard the line click and sighed, setting her phone down nest to her on the futon. “Okay,” She spoke aloud to herself. “I have no idea how I’m going to get this over there.” She shook her head and decided she’d deal with it later. Fantasia rose from the couch and went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and change into fresh underwear, fixing her hair into a messy bun, but ignoring the paint in it before leaving the bathroom to stare at the painting on the wall. “If I just…” She trailed off as she looked around the room for a large enough box. “That’ll work.” She pulled a shipping box from the corner of the room and began to carefully take the project off the wall, one canvas at a time, until all nine of them were in the box. Just then, she saw a car park in front of the studio, so she slid the stolen bomber jacket over her shoulders and pulled her boots onto her feet. She grabbed the box and locked the studio door on her way out, pushing the box into the back seat of the car and sitting down beside it.

           “Miss Jacobs,” The driver nodded to her in the rear-view mirror.

           “Hey, Will. Thank you for picking me up.” She gave a soft smile as she spoke.

           “Of course, it’s what Mr. Manfred pays me for.”

           “Right.” Fantasia nodded slightly, still not used to the idea that this was normal for wealthy people, or that she now had the money to hire a driver herself. “How’s your day so far?”

           “Going well,” He was used to the small talk from Fantasia, though most of the other clients he’d ever worked with preferred not to talk to the driver. “Yours?”

           “I actually just woke up not long ago, but Carl wanted to see me, so here we are.”

           “Well I hope it goes well for you.”

           “Thank you, Will.”

           The two sat in comfortable silence for the remainder of the ride, only speaking again when the car pulled into Carl’s driveway.

           “Have a good one, Miss Jacobs.” Will called, nodding his head to her again.

           “You too,” She said with a smile before the man drove away.

           Fantasia approached the door of the Manfred house with the box of canvases resting on her hip. As usual, when she reached the porch, the alarm system scanned her and parroted the familiar phrase, “Welcome, Fantasia.” The door unlocked and opened to a very confused person that looked as though he was reaching for the door handle. Fantasia quickly realized he was an android. He wore a white uniform without a model number or name. It stung Fantasia more than she thought it would. She knew, realistically, that Carl would need a new android to take care of him but seeing someone other than Markus at the door made Fantasia freeze on her feet.

           “I’m sorry, I was just coming to get the door for you.” He immediately moved out of the entryway. “I didn’t realize you were programmed in the system.”

           “I-uh-” Fantasia’s words caught in her throat and her eyes began to water.

           “Are you alright?” The android asked. “Please, come in.”

           Fantasia snapped out of it a little and smiled half-heartedly at him. “Thank you,” She said, voice cracking. “Where is Carl?”

           “Mr. Manfred is in the sitting room. He is not well, but he insists he doesn’t need the bedrest he was ordered.”

           She chuckled slightly, glad to hear that somethings hadn’t changed. “He is a stubborn man.” She walked to the sitting room and found Carl sitting idly in the middle of the room, staring out the large windows. “Carl?”

           “Hmm?” He seemed broken out of his trance and slowly turned to face Fantasia. He looked like his energy was being syphoned, but he smiled when he saw her. “Fantasia, it’s good to see you.”

           “Hi,” the smile she gave him in return was weak at best, but she approached him anyway.

           “You said project, as in one.” He said pointing to the box Fantasia still held on her hip.

           Fantasia chuckled and nodded. “It is all one though. I’ll lay it out for you,” She said as she began taking canvases out of the box and setting them down in the 3x3 grid they were meant to be arranged in. The eight on the outside acted like a frame of four pictures, surrounding a black and grey silhouette of Fantasia on the center canvas.

           “You did this all in one night?” Carl seemed in awe.

           “Yeah,” Fantasia breathed. “They’re all different parts of my life. This one,” She gestured to the canvas in the top left corner and the one below it, “Is Gavin.” The higher canvas was the painted as the skyline of Detroit at night, with a small park on the canvas below it, with a pond and a bench. Gavin was sitting on the bench, with his arm up over the back like there was room for another person. “This one,” She lightly tapped the two remaining in the top row, “Is meant to be my art career, and my relationship with you.” Across the two canvases stretched a multi-colored world map over a paint palette, with a silhouette of Carl on the right side. “This,” Fantasia pulled the focus to the canvases in the bottom-left and bottom-center positions, “Is my family.” It was a pristine family photo; A set parents standing behind their young and well-dressed sons, looking incredibly proud of the boys on the couch in front of them. Fantasia was positioned sitting on the floor off to the other side of the couch, wearing jeans and a t-shirt, covered in paint, separate from the rest of the family. “And this,” She looked to the last of the outer canvases. It was a path, lit with afternoon sunshine on the lower canvas, while the higher of the two housed a man walking with his back turned, toward an end to the path that the viewer could not see. The canvas that housed the man was covered in burn marks that distorted but did not destroy the picture, and a golden yellow handprint that dragged down the image and matched the color dripping from the center silhouettes hand.

           “Markus,” Carl said knowingly.

           Fantasia nodded soberly as tears came to her eyes. “I miss him.”

           “Me too, kiddo.”

           She sniffled and couldn’t help but smile slightly. “I wish you’d stop calling me that.”

           Carl laughed, “I’m always going to call you that.”

           Fantasia turned to hug him, and the two just held each other for a moment before Carl’s caretaker came into the room.

           “Would you like me to prepare lunch, Mr. Manfred?”

           Carl sighed and let Fantasia go, “Yes, thank you.”

           “For how many?” The android looked to Carl, but Carl looked to Fantasia for an answer.

           She smiled at him politely, though faintly, before replying, “Two.”

[trashforhockeyguys]

Wholeheartedly /7/ Auston Matthews

The Leafs lost round three, and so their playoff run ended for the year. You thought both of your boys were going to cry when the clock ran out and the loss was official. Truth be told, you thought you might cry too. It was the way that Auston looked up at you that broke your heart.

Watching him go through the handshake line and hug people he’d known for years, hurt more than you wanted it to. Watching the Leafs all hug on the ice hurt even more. The end of the season always brought a lot of uncertainty that you weren’t prepared for. You didn’t know who’d be back next year and who wouldn’t.

Getting the boy’s down to the locker room without either of them having a breakdown was hard. They hated the end of the season more than you or Auston, and they knew that if they lost tonight then it was all over.  

The first thing B and Jakey did when they got to the locker room was run right to Auston and hugged him. He had one boy in each arm, you could see his whole body visibly relax as he held both of them. You could see him sag a little as he gripped both boys tighter.

Jake grabbed Auston’s face, smashing his cheeks together a little, “It’s okay Daddy! I think you played great, even if you didn’t fight.”

Auston smiled slightly, “Thanks bud. Why don’t you go and give Uncle Willy a hug?”

Jake quickly kissed Auston’s cheek and ran over to Willy, who’d knelt down and had his arms spread wide for the little there year old. Brian squeezed Auston one more time before going over to Mitchy. Auston slowly stood up and made his way over towards you.

You wrapped your arms tightly around him. He buried his head into the crook of your neck. You could feel your heart break a little as he held onto you tightly. Across the locker room, Jakey was now sitting in Willy’s lap, talking about something other than hockey. Brian had now made his way towards Freddie, and was trying to give the goalie the biggest hug he could manage.

You’d be going back to Arizona in just a little over a week now. They’d have locker clean out day by the end of the week, and then all that was left wad for all of you to pack up and say goodbye to your family for the summer. The boys were more than excited to go back to Arizona, they loved it there. Mostly because they finally got to spend time with all of Auston’s family.

“I thought we had it this year,” Auston mumbled.

You ran a hand through his wet hair, “I know baby. I know.”

You knew he’d pull it together for the boys’ sake, but once they went to bed, you weren't exactly sure what he was going to be like. After nine years of being together, you’d been around him when they’ve lost before, so you knew how to handle it. You were normally able to gauge his reaction and then know where to go from there, but he’d gotten good at hiding it from the boys. So good in fact, that half the time you couldn’t even tell anymore.

You didn’t know if he was going to be so dejected that all he’d want to do was have you hold him, or so mad that he couldn’t speak and would go sleep on the couch. You didn’t know if he’d just want to stay in the shower, under the burning hot water, for hours, or instantly want some of his mom’s cooking.

He suddenly let go of you, taking a few steps back. He looked broken, you did know that. But you watched as he tried to put a smile on his face for the boys. You were sure the whole locker room could hear your heart snap then. It didn’t matter what was going on, Auston would never let his boys see how upset he was.

“Alright, c’mon you two, it’s time to go,” Auston told them.

“But Daddy!” Brian complained.

“Nope, it’s passed your bedtime,” He replied, holding his hands out for them, “Don’t worry, you’ll see everyone before we leave for Arizona.”

Both boys sighed before reluctantly walking towards Auston. They both waved and said goodbye and goodnight to everyone before you both lead them out of the locker room. They were both asleep in the back seat before you even got out of the parking lot.

Auston didn’t say anything on the ride home. The radio was playing so low you could barely hear it. You were almost worried, he was never this quiet, even after a bad loss. He wasn’t even this quiet when he’d gotten hurt, a little while before he proposed, and couldn’t play for a couple of weeks.

You didn’t know how to handle the quiet, so you just let it be. You figured that he'd talk when he was ready. You couldn't push him to talk, because you knew it wouldn’t  go well. He would just end up getting mad and sleep on the couch anyway.

The boys were still asleep when you got home, so you both carefully carried them upstairs and put them in bed. Brian stirred slightly as you tucked him in, mumbling a soft ‘I love you’ before rolling over and falling back asleep.

Auston was already in the shower by the time you made it into the bedroom. He’d already showered once while at the rink, so you figured it was going to be one of those nights. You didn’t expect him to be out anytime soon, so you changed and got into bed. You even turned off all of the lights, save for the small lamp on his bedside table.

You were more than surprised however, when Auston emerged from the bathroom only a few minutes later. He’d thrown on a pair of sweatpants and quickly tried to towel dry his hair. You watched as he tossed the towel in the hamper in the closet and then slowly made his way over the bed.

You figured he’d just say on his side of the bed, with his back to you, and call it a night. You’d accepted the fact that he didn’t want to talk, and you were fine with that. You’d gotten used to it by this point.

But you didn’t expect him to lie on top of you. He wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his head in your chest, practically using your boobs as pillows. He tangled his legs around yours. He didn’t say anything, nor did he move again once he got situated.

“Auston? Baby?” You asked quietly.

His shoulders started to shake, he was crying. You quickly wrapped your arms around him, and started to slowly rub his back. It had been years since Auston had cried like this after a loss. You were shocked to say the least, but your eyes couldn’t help but water.

“It’s okay,” You whispered, “It’s just a game Auston. You still have what’s really important.”

You continued to hold him and try to comfort him. You weren’t exactly sure what you could do. You’d become used to comforting B and Jakey, or having Auston comfort you. You hadn’t had to comfort Auston like this in years.

“I wanted it, for the boys. I wanted them to be able to say that their dad was a champion.”

“Auston, honey,” You sighed, “The boys don’t really care if you win or not, they just love to watch you play. You’re already so much more than just a champion to them.”

“It was my job to get us the cup. I failed, Y/N.”

You wanted to pull him up to look at you, but you knew that you wouldn’t be able to move him more than an inch. It’s been a joke for years whenever you tried to actually pull him or move him.

Instead you scratched his head, “Look at me Auston,” You begged him, “Please.”

He finally picked up his head enough so that he could made eye contact with you. You smiled softly, feeling your heart ache. You stroked his cheek gently. You wanted nothing more than to make him smile, but you understood what he was feeling. Maybe not on this scale, but you understood what it was like to lose something important like this.

“You didn’t fail Auston. Go look at those two boys down the hall if you don’t believe me,” You told him, “You’re far from a failure, okay? You couldn’t single handedly carry that team into the championships, no matter how hard you wanted to. It’s not your fault.”

“I should’ve played harder.”

“Stop right there. You did the best you could, okay? You’re allowed to be upset. But don’t start blaming yourself, because you weren’t the only one in blue on the ice tonight,” You explained.

He shook his head before resting it on your chest again. You sighed and started to run your fingers through his hair again. You knew he’d need a couple of days to bounce back, and you were okay with that. You’d already made arrangements for the boys because you knew it would be a rough week.

“Look, my parents are coming to take the boys for a few days, so they can spend time with them before we head back. They figured that way we can get the house together for the cookout at the end of the week, and have some alone time.”

“They didn’t have to do that,” He mumbled.

“I know,” You replied, “But they called right after the game and made a very compelling argument. After all, this is the last time they’ll see the boy’s until we come back.”

Three days later, your backyard was full of all the Leafs players and their families. You and Auston had started the tradition of having a cookout on Locker Cleanout Day when you’d first moved in together eight years ago.

Since then, it was the best part about the season just ending. Everyone got together one last time before summer, and just had fun. Most of the kids played mini hockey while the adults chatted in the corner.

Honestly, it was just nice to all be together without having to think about hockey. Auston normally manned the grill, unless someone tried to take it away from him, which normally happened more than once after he almost burned all of the burgers one year.

You had to dodge kids as you brought out more food. Jake was off running around somewhere with his hockey stick. Brian was playing NHL on the xbox with one of the Marleau boys. Meanwhile, Auston looked like he was ready to hit both Mitch and Willy, who were trying to tell him he wasn’t grilling right.

Summers had always been about spending time with family. But one thing you’d learned over the years was that, the hockey season was also about spending time with a different family. Your kids considered everyone here to be their family. They didn’t stop to think if it was true or not, everyone here was an uncle, or an aunt, or a cousin.

This team was just as much your family as your actual blood. They’d been there for everything. They were there when Brian was born, in fact Mitch and Steph had been at the hospital with you the day he was born. The whole team came to see Jake just hours after he was born, bringing more followers and stuffed animals for both boys than they’d ever need. Brian’s first steps were taken at the ACC, and Jake’s were taken at just before an outdoor game. Jake’s first word was even hockey, even though it sounded like ‘ikey’.

“So, are we going to have another Matthews on the way by the time the next season starts?” Willy asked once you walked towards the grill.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if there already is one,” Mitch said, wiggling his eyebrows a bit, “How many times have you had someone watch the kids in the last few weeks?”

“Shut up,” Auston said, shoving Mitch to the side.

“I’m just speaking the truth!” Mitch defended.

“If that’s your way of asking if I’m currently pregnant, then the answer is no,” You stated, “So you can shut up about that. And as far as everything else goes, it’s none of your business what we do behind closed doors.”

“Except for that time the door wasn’t closed!” Mitch argued.

“Mitchell, that was years ago. Get over it,” Auston groaned, “Besides, you shouldn’t just barge into other people’s houses.”

“You gave me a key!” Mitch yelled.

You laughed and started to walk away, “Doesn’t mean you should use it Mitch.”

You could hear Auston and Willy laughing as you slipped back into the house. Kappy was now chasing Jakey around, because Jake stole his hat. Brian was bating them, yelling for Jakey to run one way or the other. The other Baby Leafs started to join in on the fun as well.

“Hey! Stay away from the lamp please!” You yelled to your boys, “C’mon Kasperi, you’re supposed to be the adult in this situation.”

“He took my hat!” Kappy whined.

“Not my problem, he’s three, you can get it back,” You shrugged.

You grabbed a glass of wine, and gave Kappy one more warning glance, before going back outside to join the girls. A few hours later, you’d all finished dinner and were sitting around the firepit.

Jakey was asleep in Willy’s arms, while Brian was barely awake in Freddie’s. You knew your boys would miss all of the guys over the summer, but a few of them had already planned visits. Either you’d go to them or they’d come to Arizona. It was funny really, you’d think after spending almost everyday together for months, that some of you would want a break. But that wasn’t always the case, but you loved that.

You loved that everyone still wanted to see each other. You loved the chemistry of the team and the way that you were all a family. Auston had talked about it so many times. They were a family on and off the ice, and that’s what made them so great.

“Another season in the books,” Auston sighed, tucking you under his arm.

“We’ll get them next year Matts,” Mitch stated.

“Daddy’s gonna kick ass,” Jake mumbled.

Everyone started laughing. No matter how hard you and Auston tried to keep them from saying that, it still slipped out every now and then. Willy smiled down to the toddler in his arms and gently patted his shoulder.

“Well, the child has spoken,” You joked, “You’ll have to kick ass next season.”

[theresnosafeharbor4myships]

Wow, guys....so I realized last week there was a story I had on 9L that I’d never written the fourth and final chapter for...whoops!! So if anyone cares, here’s the completion of Better Together (also on 9L) 

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 2) (Chapter 3) 

“What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?”

After so much silence, the question, monotonous but weighty, surprised him, and he turned to look at her, trying to gauge the purpose of it.

She sat on the bed propped against the wall, her head tilted back and unseeing eyes staring at the ceiling, legs crossed in front of her, holding her arm close to shelter her wounded side.

In the four days since she’d broken down, she hadn’t once initiated conversation, though she had started responding to him in reserved kindness.

Most of their conversations had focused on him coaxing her to eat and drink, explaining his plan for the few runs he’d gone on, discussing the things he’d found when he returned, and updating her on the healing progress of her wound. When the external silence and the internal worry rang too loud, he’d just talk. He always tried to keep the topic and his mood light, hoping to keep drawing her out of the mire she stumbled through. She remained stoic, maudlin even, but she hadn’t tried sending him away again since she’d cried in his arms.  

At night, when he lay on the floor next to her bed, replaying those minutes in Technicolor, he swore he could still feel her against him. Her hot tears scorching his neck and branding his shoulder with her heartache. Her body shaking in his arms as she sought to expel her waking nightmares. The sound of her sobs making tears burn in his own eyes at the amount of pain she felt. Her hands gripping the front of his shirt as though she could squeeze the demons out through osmosis.

After several minutes, she’d pulled slowly away from him, her face averted as she took a few calming but shaky breaths. She exhaled a sigh, whispered an estranged “thank you,” and laid back down on the bed facing the wall.

If he hadn’t known how much it’d cost her to fall apart in his arms like that, he’d have been angry at her easy dismissal. But he did know, and so he’d granted her the dignity and privacy she desired, even though his chest ached while doing it.

He rose slowly, knees creaking after kneeling for so long, and set his hand tenderly on her shoulder. “I’ll just be in the front room,” he murmured, his hand regretfully sliding down her arm and away as he left.

It pained him to leave her, and he’d nearly turned back, ready to beg her to talk to him, to tell him all that had transpired since he’d left on that medicine run so many eons ago, to let him share her pain, to allow him to hold her close until the demons ceased their ravaging torments of her.

He’d stayed away until the night swallowed the dusk, then by flashlight slipped back into the room. Her steady breathing told him she slept. Grateful for her respite and praying it lasted through the night, he laid down on his makeshift bed, staring into the black night of the room, worrying the situation over and over in his mind.

Had her breakdown initiated a hint of healing or would it make her more determined to shut him out? Would she leave him again? How could he make her see she didn’t need to traverse the treacherous future and haunting memories alone? What made her think she needed to? Did having him here help her at all? How would they travel if she wanted to work against him? Didn’t she know he’d never give up? give her up? That there wasn’t a distance he wouldn’t go? He would never leave her. He couldn’t.

He’d found no answers to the questions gnawing at his heart, and it had taken several restless hours for him to find sleep that night.

She’d gotten stronger the past few days, her color returning with sustenance and the doctoring of her stab wound. The injury had started to heal nicely, but it would take at least another week until she could move without gasping at the twinges pulling at her side.

But while her wound healed, she’d continued masking her emotions behind that listless stare she’d mastered. Only because he knew her so well did he recognize the slight change in her since that night. The loss of some of her anger and the nuances in her voice, the light he sometimes saw shining out from her eyes told him that something had confronted the unleashed darkness inside of her. It cowered but still clung to her with vicious tenacity.  

What he wouldn’t give to break its hold for good.

Maybe answering her question would vanquish it.

Sitting on the floor with his back to the bed, he considered his answer. “Don’t know,” he finally admitted. “Before or After? Either way, I got a lotta shit against my name.” He paused, waiting for her response, but she gave none, her gaze still fixed on the ceiling.  

He swallowed hard, wondering if he should continue. Or ask her a question. Or just drop it. The path of deft conversation eluded him.

He returned to his task of cleaning their weapons but kept an eye on her through the fringe of his hair.

“We all do now,” he stated gently.

She huffed. “Some more than others,” she mumbled.

Though she gave no indication she noticed his presence, he set the gun parts on the floor, half-turned to better see her, and looked at her intently. “Like you…?” he finally asked. His tone left no doubt that he didn’t for one second believe it, but she’d left him the opening and—path or no path—he’d take it.

She moved her head until her piercing eyes met his. “Like me,” she bit out, though he didn’t know if she directed the hatred in her tone at herself or at him.

He nodded once to let her know he heard her, but no way in hell he’d let her think he agreed. The urge to scream—about anything, everything, all the injustices that had occurred to and around them, at the wall between them, about all he wanted them to be but didn’t know how to show or tell her—or even if she wanted it too—overwhelmed him, and he took a moment to compose himself.

“You don’t know…” He didn’t quite know what he’d intended to say—the mountain of things he wanted to tell her grew every day—so he let the sentence trail off.

“I know enough,” she countered, her frustration palpable.

“Then you know no one’s got a clean slate,” he told her, using that gentle tone he saved just for her. “Maybe never did. But now...” He let the thought hang there. “Rick said it in that barn, remember? We do what we need to do, and then we get to live.”

“Not—” Her voice wavered, and she stopped short.

He felt his throat close, sure she’d nearly spoken the words he dreaded. Not me. The cavern in his chest overflowed with anticipation and ache as he waited for her to continue. The more she expelled the less she held inside where suffocating wounds festered and swelled, threatening to drown her, but it took all his will power to stay seated on the floor, to not gather her in his arms again.

“Not everyone,” she finally stated.

“No,” he agreed softly. “Not everyone.”  

The faces of the people they’d lost since Rick had sent her away flashed through his brain, the sheer number of them nearly causing him to collapse in on himself. That she’d been privy to just as many, including the children she’d adopted as her own—including her own—left him shuddering for breath.

“When I thought I’d lost you….and the others…after the prison—” He nearly choked on his own words, loathe to admit his Merle-esque behavior, but he forced himself to tell her. “I was a dick. Like how I was when you first met me…aggressive and mean, antagonistic, not knowin’ how to care. All I knew was…you were gone. Everyone was gone. I regressed. Just fell back into bein’ like Merle. I lost my ward just like you lost yours, but I know you didn’t treat ‘em like I did her. I felt sorry for myself. And hated myself for…so many things. And I couldn’t stand the thought that I’d never see any’a you again. It took it all out on her.”

He chanced a glance at Carol and found her eyes fixed on him, wary but attentive and sympathetic, a vision of who she was before the dark had consumed her. His heart raced at the familiar expression.

“And after she was gone, these men found me. I knew they were bad. Not just Merle-bad, but…” He swallowed hard, struggling to admit who he’d chosen to stay with so he didn’t have to wander alone. He dropped his eyes to the weapons he’d forgotten about. “…murderer-bad. Vile, shifty…rapists,” he finally admitted. “Didn’t know at first. I knew they were bad, knew I could never be with them what I was when I was with you…with everyone at the prison.”

He saw her lift her eyebrows in response and continued before he lost his nerve. “She said I’d be the last man standin’…like it was a good thing. She meant it as a compliment, but I can’t think’a nothin’ worse. I just…didn’t wanna be alone. The world felt so…cold and empty after the home we made. All I could hear at night was the sound of the kids laughin’, smell the food you used to cook, see Carl helping Little Asskicker stand for the first time, see all’a them sittin’ around the picnic tables laughin’. The sound of their ghosts…they were so loud, and having others around, even ones like them, made ‘em stay away.

“I hated it…hated them. Made me feel like…I didn’t belong. But I just…I couldn’t make myself leave.”

“You stayed alive.”

She said it simply, as though the fact his heart still beat absolved him of the crimes and weaknesses that still snarled at him when the lights went out.

He nodded dejectedly, then looked pointedly at her. “So did you.”

Her expression hardened, and he saw the walls go back up. “It’s not the same.”

“It is,” he implored, allowing the intensity he felt to seep into his words. “We’ve all done things…things no one should ever have to do or see or live through.”

She shook her head, preparing to contradict him, but he pressed on.

“Never told you, but Michonne kept her dead boyfriend’s walker with her in chains. It’s how she kept going…livin’ on the anger and hatred…the injustice. She told me her and Rick and Carl, when Rick went back home to look for weapons, ditched some guy out on the road, out by himself, beggin’ for help. Carl shot that kid. I killed that cop; you saw me do it. Rick…he got in a tight spot and…bit some guy’s neck. Straight through to the jugular with his teeth.” Daryl shook his head, disturbed by the memory of it. “Savage but…necessary in that moment. To stay alive. To keep Carl alive.”

She stared at him, surprised but not shocked, at the secrets he revealed. Like so many times before, he held her gaze, desperate for her to see how much he cared, how much she meant to him.

The despondency fell from her face and she looked down at her hands in her lap.

“I don’t know what you had to do to stay alive. I know the hands that did it were yours, but…it ain’t who you are.”

She sighed and shook her head. “You don’t know…”

“I want to. I wanna understand. But I don’t need to. I know you. Same as I know Rick. He’s got it in him to kill a man with a vampire bite. But that ain’t who he is. It’s what he had to do. Because’a what was bein’ done to him.”

The moment sat heavy between them, and he waited a few beats before continuing.

“Bob…after Zach died, he blamed himself. Thought he had caused the accident at the Big Spot. But it was all of our faults. Or none of ‘em,” he countered himself. “Me and Sasha picked the spot. Rick thought Zach needed to learn how to go on runs. Just a few minutes before it all happened, we were all be sittin’ around jokin’. Maybe we all let our guards down too much. Maybe Zach wasn’t paying close enough attention. Maybe I shoulda made him stay out on watch instead of lettin’ Tyreese do it. Maybe Ty shoulda been inside.” He shrugged. “Shit just happens. Always has, but especially now. And we do what we gotta do to keep goin’. Zach dyin’ was everyone’s fault. And no one’s. And mine.”

“You couldn’t have known,” she whispered, her voice breaking with unshed tears.

“Neither could you.” He shook his head. “Don’t you see? It ain’t us that does these things. It’s what happens to us. We…you ain’t Shane. Or the Governor. You ain’t those damn wolf people. It ain’t in you to hurt people because you like it. If you did, you wouldn’t be so torn up right now, thinkin’ you deserve all’a this.”

He looked at her imploringly, willing her to understand. “You do what you gotta do…and then you get to live. But your heart beatin’ while you wither away inside ain’t livin’,” he stated gently.

She kept her eyes on her hands as she fidgeted with them, a small nod the only indication she gave that she heard him.

“Like we said…we ain’t dead.”

At that, her eyes met his, full of sorrow and tears, and she nodded again, though he could tell it pained her to agree with him.

“And we ain’t gonna be. We went through what we had to get through alone so we can be together.” He realized the intimacy of his words, but he let them linger instead of trying to edit them away. “We need you. We need you back there.”

“You don’t,” she countered sorrowfully. “You don’t need me. You just think you do. You’re all capable…without me.”

He nodded. “You’re right: we’re all capable. But we want you there with us. I want you there. It ain’t about savin’ us...not about savin’ me. It’s about savin’ you.”

“You’ve already done that,” she reminded him wistfully.

“Not enough. Not if you believe you’re better off all alone out here. Cain’t be the way of it. None of us can do this alone, you know that. You know we’re better together.”

She continued looking at him, and he couldn’t tell if she was trying to stare him down, make him look away as he’d done too many times in the past.

He wouldn’t this time. Her safety and well-being hung in the balance, and she meant more to him than any modicum of pride he thought he held on to.

“Right?” he asked, hopeful.

The air sat pregnant with emotion: his hope and fear in the face of this moment, her doubt and anxiety that she could ever return, the despair over all that had occurred. Guilt and shame and courage and humility. Empathy and trust. Affection.

Through the sheen of tears, he saw something shift in her eyes. A memory of their ease with one another. A loosening of the façade she’d wielded for far too long. A spark of fire. A gleam of the Amazonian fighter he’d had the privilege of watching develop. A woman who trusted him.

He ached to reach for her, to comfort her like she’d taught him to do with the peace of her presence and the beauty of her soul. But he refrained, staring up at her like a frozen man craving the warmth of the sun, waiting for her to choose healing, to choose to fight and live again. To return to him.

She sniffled once to reign in the tears, then placed her hand on his shoulder. “Better together,” she whispered, giving his shoulder a squeeze.

His heart kicked furiously in his chest, full of gratitude and admiration—of love—and he released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

“Yes,” he murmured. He reached up and took her hand in his, squeezing it gently and lacing their fingers together, interlocking them like two halves of a whole. Holding her gaze, he brought her hand to his mouth and kissed the top of it tenderly before making a promise.

“Together.”

[swordliliesandebony-blog]

Hoping For Some Permanence | Chapter 5

Previous Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4

Pairing: Prompto/Noctis

Warnings: past minor character death, mental illness, anxiety, depression; please see additional tags on Ao3 for more specific potential triggers!

Summary: Prompto is the junior artist at Lion Heart, his father’s revered tattoo studio. Noctis needs to work through his past, but he’d be much happier painting over it.

(read on Ao3)

There are two distinct possibilities in Noctis’s mind. He’s reeling here, trying to work through them without giving the distinct impression of someone silently working through something quite so potentially devastating. He’s clutching that damn grab bar for dear life. He feels distinctly cold, and he’s well aware that the color has likely drained entirely from his face. He can’t look over at Prompto, that much is certain. Maybe it would give him an answer, if he could just glance at him, gauge his expression, read into what the hell he’s thinking.

The first possibility is the one that Noctis wants so desperately to cling to. It’s the one he wants to be the truth. He wants Prompto’s words to be an accident, a mistake born of entirely understandable ignorance. He wants Prompto to have been trying, albeit unsuccessfully, to ease some of Noct’s fears with that bit of levity. He would, after all, have no reason to know the truth. He would have no reason whatsoever to play such a cruel card against him knowingly at that. They’re on a date, after all. They’re trying to have a good time, trying to get to know each other. There have been conversations through the week that started at all that, and they went well. There have been butterflies when Noctis thinks about him. Those are all, he hopes, checks in this particular column.

The other option is a hell of a lot less innocent or acceptable. It’s something that makes all of those hours preparing for the date, stressing over it, weaving in and out of panic null and void. This option has to do with Prompto finding out more than he’s implied. It has to do with talking to Gladio or maybe even his father- a guy who seems aware enough of Noctis, even if that familiarity didn’t spark in his own mind. It goes into a bit of digging, an exploration of a past that Noctis has very specifically not discussed with Prompto just yet. It will come soon, it will have to, but he’s made a stark point of keeping it all to himself.

There’s a second facet however, to that latter possibility, and it’s one that’s a hell of a lot more nefarious. That Prompto would have learned about Noct’s past and then immediately made a joke of it, made a point to reduce Noct to guilt-ridden misery. The mere idea of it sends cold prickles at the back of Noct’s neck and a harsh, empty feeling in the pit of his belly. Prompto wouldn’t do that, would he? Nobody would do that. He would have never wound up in this situation, clinging to handles and trying to remember all of those grounding techniques all so he can act like a normal, functional human being on a date with someone he really thinks he likes. He couldn’t have been so wrong about Prompto. It’s impossible. The only thing more impossible, he has to think, is Noctis actually emerging from his guilt and his regret to admit that he’s jumping to conclusions lacking any actual reason behind them.

Noctis knows that he needs to say something, but as for what he should say? There’s always the option of actually being honest, of pointing out exactly why he’s gone so tense, so silent, why there’s nothing between them now but tension and the low drone of the radio. He doesn’t want to be honest, though. If Prompto doesn’t know the truth, if he doesn’t have to know just yet, isn’t that for the best? He can drum up some good will, make it harder to hate him in the end. It’s not so much that he wants to be dishonest, not even that he wants to hide this all from Prompto. He just wants a little time. He needs a little time, a little safety net. A little bit of anything that will keep Prompto from turning tail when everything goes sticky.

Sitting here in silence, Noctis realizes, is not the way to drum up that good will. It’s not the way to begin a second date that is, in all honesty, a lot closer to a first proper one than anything else. When Noctis finally can bring himself to turn his attention, to look back at Prompto, the poor guy really does look like he’s horribly close to having some sort of breakdown, internally or otherwise. He’s all bright cheeks and hands that grip the wheel too hard and attention set so specifically to the road that Noct isn’t sure whether he knows he’s being watched or not. There’s a pang here, a little bit of guilt, because he doesn’t think that the second option was the correct one. He doesn’t think Prompto is trying anything other than to have a good time with him, and here he is, overreacting to silly words, closing himself off before there’s ever a chance to open up. He draws in a breath and there’s a bit of an internal scramble, an attempt to come up with any sort of words to explain it all away.

“I’m totally starving,” Noctis settles on words that have no real importance at all. They’re words he can say though, words that are totally true at that. His stomach is doing flips and eating away at itself, none too quietly. Ignis had been hassling him all morning, reminding him that he doesn’t want to be going out on a first date dinner and scarfing down everything in sight. Noct forced himself to appreciate the advice, but he couldn’t force himself to do more than nibble half-heartedly at the food his brother served him. It had smelled amazing, of course. Ignis is a damn genius when it comes to cooking, and it’s his damn job to be, after all. Nerves, however, had turned his whole body into a bit of a hostile environment when it comes to things like eating or resting, or generally doing anything that wasn’t pacing and panicking.

Prompto doesn’t relax in response to the words, which is no real surprise, but he does glance over and Noct is able to catch his eyes and offer up a smile that is tiny and apologetic. Prompto attempts to return it, the effort is clear, even if the end result is somewhat questionable. Can Noctis really blame him though? Prompto seems even more nervous than he’s feeling, somehow, and there was that awkward moment that almost certainly was born simply from Noct’s own hang-ups. It’s still a relief, though, to see his grip on the wheel loosen just a hair, see him shift in the seat to a position that borders on comfort.

“Yeah, me too. I haven’t really eaten all day,” Prompto even manages to speak, and his voice is only a little bit shaky, slightly stilted. Noctis is happy about that. He’s happy that he’s speaking at all, that things haven’t managed to, for lack of better term, crash and burn quite so quickly. And maybe he’s even a little bit happy that they’re both so clearly on edge, that all of his worrying, all of his panic over how this night would go, isn’t one-sided. It’s not fair to feel that way, Noct’s aware of that point somewhere in the back of his mind, and maybe his own nervous energy and Prompto’s are feeding off of each other. But there’s a strange sort of camaraderie here, with both of them tense and uncomfortable, standing on a shared ledge of very possible imminent breakdown.

Silence sets between them again, though this time Noctis likes to think it’s not quite so uncomfortable. His mind is so prone to going back over the past, to examining what happened to him before Prompto, those long months of isolation and their point of origin. He’s absolutely drawn to wondering, what could have gone differently, what he could have changed. Where he would have been if he had managed to do so. It’s a difficult set of ideas, because all awkwardness aside, Noctis likes this. He likes being with Prompto, in the aging car that has a back seat all stuffed with piles of junk and a radio that only seems to play on one side. He likes the idea of going to dinner with him, getting to know him, spending more time together than this one evening a week after they’d first met. He likes staying up a little bit too late, phone lighting his face where he’s tucked beneath covers, waiting for one more response. He likes Prompto and he could have never gotten to that point if anything in his damn life had gone as planned.

The drive stretches on, though Noctis is vaguely aware that it can’t possibly be that long. Insomnia isn’t a small city, but it has a whole lot of city jammed into not a whole lot of space. The roads twist and turn and there’s always a fair bit of back tracking down one-way streets over and over to get where you intend, but all considered, he had no difficulty hopping the train and making it to Prompto’s shop within the space of an hour. Which means the actual drive proper is maybe a quarter of that, barring any particularly brutal traffic. He’s surprised, really, when Prompto speaks up again.

“Hey, so, I don’t want you to be all let down by where we’re going,” he has that edge in his voice, that uncertainty that is becoming well-known to Noct. It makes him frown this time though, feel less kinship and more concern, “you’re probably used to really fancy stuff, huh? I don’t really know anywhere like that,” the whole concept makes Noctis shift to better watch Prompto. His grip even loosens from the grab handle at the roof, though he immediately grips instead at one on the door.

“Why would you think that?” Noctis is compelled to ask because, quite honestly, he can’t wrap his mind around it. Their first ‘date’ was to a little hole-in-the-wall sandwich shop. And it was a damn good date, with damn good food. Exactly the sort of thing that Noctis can get behind, where they don’t really mess around with anything green or leafy or remotely healthy. The idea of some fancy, expensive place with too many forks and a special guy who’s job is just to tell you what cheese to order? Noct’s pretty sure he’s had a whole lifetime’s worth of suffering through that particular hell.

Prompto doesn’t respond right away and Noct has the distinct impression that he’s uncomfortable again. It’s difficult here, probably a lot more difficult than it needs to be, everything else being equal. He could have taken another route with his words, he realizes. He could have brushed it all aside, pointed out that as far as he’s concerned, the junkier the fare the better. Then again, would that have come off wrong, too? He’s frowning, more to himself than anything, but Prompto glances at him and he must notice because he actually winces, as if Noctis didn’t feel bad enough already.

“I mean, you’re like, rich, right?” Prompto laughs at his own words and shakes his head, “a totally different world than some guy doing tattoos, anyway. I’m pretty sure the fake-fancy chain place isn’t exactly the height of class or whatever,” and while his laughter is a little bit nervous, it manages to make Noctis feel just a bit better. Hell, he laughs too.

“I dunno about that. Never said I was classy. I’d rather go somewhere you want to, anyway. Did Gladio not mention that I’m a total shut-in at this point?” When it comes down to it, little slivers of truth like that one are a lot easier than Noctis would have imagined. It’s not hard to talk to Prompto, not as a rule. Sure, he’s struggling here, but Noctis is starting to come to the conclusion that it’s the fact they haven’t seen each other for a week, that his mind has built up this enormous obligation for the night to be perfect, only to be shot down immediately. He was the one, after all, who told Prompto it would be a good time no matter what, wasn’t he? So why the hell can’t he apply that same thought to himself?

“Gladio didn’t mention anything, dude. And I totally tried. He basically just laughed in my face. In my phone. In my phone-face,” there is an absolutely astounding sense of relief here, with Prompto very much sounding suddenly like himself again. Or, at the very least, sounding like the self Noctis has in mind. He has to remind himself, here and there, that they don’t really know each other. It’s hard for him to keep track of the fact that they only met a week ago, only spoke through texts, only have those very simple impressions to work on. He finds himself laughing a little bit as Prompto goes animated though, as he seems to burst into life.

“That sounds like Gladio. You could’ve just asked me if there was something you were wondering, y’know,” Noctis really is smiling with these words, light and genuine and feeling more at ease than he has since, well, their last date ended. Maybe taking his own advice is a decent idea. Maybe he can have a good time, if he’ll just let himself. And, yeah, maybe learning that Gladio didn’t betray any enormously important points about Noctis and his past or his admittedly difficult personality is a relief all on its own. Noct wants to think, however, that it’s just the act of actually talking, remembering why he’s here, that’s making all the difference.

“Well, yeah, but that’d be totally weird.”

“And secretly asking my friends isn’t?”

“Look, I never said I was any good at this whole ‘going on dates with cute boys I’m supposed to be poking with needles’ thing,” there’s a certain way that Prompto’s voice rises, just a little bit, when he’s becoming flustered. Noctis thinks it’s about the most endearing damn thing he’s ever witnessed and it’s growing harder and harder with each louder, higher-pitched word not to burst into a little fit of laughter.

“You think I’m cute!” Noctis can’t quite help pressing in just a bit of a tease there, letting his voice go into a bit of a teasing melody. It’s absolutely ridiculous, entirely childish, and it has them both laughing a little bit, even if Prompto is still sputtering a little bit. Really, the brief compliment makes Noct’s heart flutter a little bit, might even bring some of the color back to his face. It’s definitely easier to make fun of Prompto for it than to admit any of that, though.

“Obviously I think you’re cute. I wouldn’t have forced you to go on another date with me if I didn’t,” there’s a bit of a pout forming at Prompto’s lips, something that’s definitely all show, part of the game being played between them now. That part is endearing too. Every damn thing about Prompto is turning out to be that way. Noctis thinks, just briefly, that he’s gotten himself in way over his damn head here.

“I wouldn’t really call it forcing. I wanted to come. ‘Cause, y’know, you’re pretty cute yourself,” Noctis feels himself go a little bit warm with the admission, enough so in fact that he moves to fiddle with the window. Then realizes very quickly that he’s only fiddling with the locks and finds the crank somewhere below. Perhaps not his finest moment, but Prompto is laughing about it and that’s enough to keep him smiling.

“At least we got that much settled,” there really is an air of relief to Prompto’s tone and Noctis wonders, just for a moment, if he should go on. Should he be extolling more of the virtues he’s come to the conclusion match up with Prompto, from the admittedly limited contact they’ve been sharing? There’s a bit of an instinct to do just that, if he’s being honest. Because Prompto is pretty damn cute, and he’s pretty funny too. He’s pretty easy to talk to, when Noctis can allow himself to admit anyone ever would be easy to talk to. And he’s nice to be around, even when things got off to such a shaky start, even when Noctis found himself spending a fair few minutes trapped in his own mind and his own memories.

“Right, well, we’re almost there,” Prompto’s voice is picking up nerves again, but at least he’s making attempts at a smile. Noctis watches intently, watches the way his fingers shift between drumming and clutching at the steering wheel, then back again. Watches how his free leg bounces in place while they’re slowing, making those final turns and that attempt to locate parking. At this rate, Noctis can relax a little bit. There’s no great fear that everything will, quite literally, turn immediately sideways from some freak incident beyond their control. There’s not much fear, either, that he’ll get trapped back in his memories of just such an incident, or that either of them will manage- for the moment, at least- to say something particularly damning.

And, to be entirely honest, he can already pick up the scents of the restaurant as they’re searching for a spot. Even if it’s not ‘classy’, it’s exactly what Noctis can go for. A sort of pseudo-upscale environment, probably designed for families and young couples short on cash and eager to indulge. He’s pretty sure he recognizes the name as a chain, maybe from a mailer or a commercial, and really, he’s wondering yet again why Prompto thought it was essential to worry quite so much. Noctis has a feeling, the way Prompto presented at his door, that this particular question will come to his mind more than on just this occasion.

There’s a moment when the car is parked, where they both remain seated. A look passes between them, something of hesitation and excitement, all smiles and nerves, butterflies practically taking flight between them. Noctis thinks, or wants to think in any case, that Prompto isn’t feeling so different than he is right now. He hasn’t been on a proper date, not anything beyond that little impromptu lunch a week before, in longer than he likes to remember. Hell, when he considers it now, it occurs to him that his damn engagement might have been the last time. There’s a brief tightening of his stomach there, when he considers how he’ll admit that bit to Prompto. He recalls advice from Ignis though, admits that he’s getting ahead of himself, and gives a little nod of reassurance before he steps from the car.

It really is a nice evening. The last bits of sunlight are still clinging to the edges of the city, streetlights just beginning to snap to life. It’s cool, but it’s comfortable. Just a light breeze, enough to make his long sleeves more blessing than curse for the first time in some months. The whole night gives the distinct impression of fall looming close, and really, Noctis is happy enough for that. He’s happy to be beyond his birthday, beyond the sweating summer months, beyond the moments that made him consider that damn tattoo that got him into this utterly perfect mess. The cold, the actual and proper icy nights, will set in soon. It will all be painful, achy chills in no time, and Noctis wishing for the summer again right along with it. Just now, though, the night is perfect. He’s smiling when he comes back to Prompto’s side, weaves their arms and works their hands together.

Noctis allows himself to believe he’s pretty damn smooth with this move, the way Prompto’s cheeks light up, clear even in the quickly draining light. He likes the way Prompto looks when he’s blushing like that, the deep pink that overcomes him, interrupted in spots by that little dusting of freckles. Noct has found himself, whether he’ll admit it or not, imagining getting his lips on those speckled cheeks, chasing little lines and connecting the dots. Yeah, definitely not admitting that just now, when they’re only walking in for their meal.

“Have I mentioned I’m totally starving? ‘Cause I’m totally starving,” Noctis presses their shoulders together a little where they stand, waiting for the light to turn on the crosswalk. There’s a bit of subdued neon lighting marking out their destination and, again, that scent. All full of garlic and bread and, well, Noct’s never really had a nose for all the rest. Ignis would probably be able to write a damn review on the aroma alone. All Noct really knows is that it smells good and it has his stomach making agreeable sounds, ones quite thankfully drowned by traffic, passersby, and Prompto’s little burst of laughter.

“Guess it’s a good thing for the date then, huh? I’m gonna warn you though, if you decide to eat your weight in lobster, I’m gonna hafta ask you to buy the ice cream after,” Prompto is laughing even through that joke, and Noctis finds himself chuckling a little bit too as the light flashes to walk and they make their way across the street, still hand-in-hand. Nothing that either of them have to say is terribly funny, but Noct’s mood is lifted considerably just by being around Prompto. It’s absolutely startling, if he’s being honest. He tries to remember his first date with Luna, so many years ago. They were just kids, and the whole relationship was something that was more expected than it was decided. Did he ever feel that distinct fluttering between his ribs for her? Was everything she said terribly amusing? He decides very sharply not to think about that.

“So you’re taking me for ice cream, too? Pretty much a dream date right here,” Noctis is very close to an outright grin- a true rarity for him- when they make it to the door and Prompto holds it open for him. He thinks that, all of the nerves aside, they really will have a good time here. The place isn’t terribly fancy, which is exactly what Noctis would have hoped for if the choice was his own. And the prospect of sharing some dessert afterward too is an absolutely appealing one. Hell, he’s even impressed, spirits a little bit lifted, when Prompto tells the front counter that he’s made a reservation. Noct is pretty sure that, a place like this, it’s entirely unnecessary, but there’s something in the gesture, the planning ahead that touches him.

Prompto doesn’t respond directly to the comment about dream dates, but Noctis thinks that he seems to be just a little bit more confident in his walk, in the grip around Noct’s hand when they’re making their way to the table. A small exchange of laughter comes when Prompto makes a point of pulling out Noct’s chair for him, not nearly far enough, but with Noctis making a point of trying to wedge himself in all the same. There’s something about being with Prompto, Noct decides, that makes him feel a hell of a lot younger. Or, maybe, it makes him feel like a twenty year old guy should be feeling in the first place.

“You gonna get some fancy wine? I mean, probably none of it’s actually fancy, but I can’t pronounce any of the names, so close enough,” Prompto grins over his menu at Noctis and it really does absolutely melt his heart. Enough so that he almost slips, almost agrees to it. Ignis’s voice, all full of concern and lectures about ‘making wise decisions’ and ‘not taking undue risks’ sounds in the back of his head though and he simply shakes a slow negative. In all honesty, Noct is perfectly happy simply enjoying Prompto’s company here, without any thought for what buzz will pair well.

“I don’t really drink any more,” Noctis opts for a bit of honesty there, and Prompto’s face goes serious in response just for a moment. Perhaps serious isn’t exactly what it does, but there’s definitely a hint of concern behind those big eyes, maybe just a hint of curiosity, “I get sick as a dog. Wine doesn’t taste good even when it is fancy anyway,” he opts for the joke, yet again, and it seems to do the trick, Prompto smiling before he buries his head in the menu again.

“Totally. I mean, who wants to guzzle down a bunch of rotten grapes, anyway. I’m so into the fancy lemonade they’ve got, though. They put strawberries in it, it’s basically drinking candy. Oh, and they have this deep fried appetizer trio…” Noctis finds himself smiling again, maybe in spite of himself. Prompto, it turns out, has a tendency to ramble on when he’s found a subject good for doing so. Apparently, this particular restaurant is one of them, a point that makes Noctis feel just a little bit guilty that Prompto had been so full of hesitation to bring him here. It seems, the place is one of Prompto’s favorites, and he has comments on just about every menu item. It’s a good thing, too, because he can warn Noctis as to what would show up at their table all covered in greens or not entirely dead.

He decides, in the end, on a nice sounding bit of steak that Prompto assures him is totally amazing and one of those lemonades that was so greatly raved about. The drink, at the very least, comes out quickly and lives mostly to its hype. It’s almost sickly sweet, but the way that Prompto bubbles up even further at that, the great relish he takes in the first long sip, is enough to give it an absolutely favorable flavor to Noct’s tongue.

“So, you really like this place. I take it you’re here a lot?” Noctis has to remember, after giving their orders and sitting a few moments of comfortable silence with their drinks, that the whole point of having a date is to talk. He wants to talk, too, which is a bit of a new situation on him. More accurately, it’s a feeling almost like waking up. More pleasant than waking up, but certainly with a similar sense of stepping from a haze. There is a certain sense, something that’s been clouding Noct’s mind for a long time, something like he’s walking through an endless fog. There was a lot of talk about tunnels and the lights at the end of them, but he wasn’t really buying any of that. Now? Maybe there’s something to it all.

“Huh? Oh, not really. I mean, it’s not really the kinda place you go alone, and it’s not really as fun dragging my dad along or something,” Prompto laughs at the apparent image he’s drummed up of that and Noctis smiles too. Truth be told, Noctis is still somewhat terrified of Prompto’s dad, the one who clearly seems to know him. More likely, the one who knew his dad, and that’s a can of worms that Noctis really wishes he’d never have to open again. Unhealthy as it may be, there’s a hell of a lot that Noct has learned to bottle up, learned not to think too hard about. His father and their relationship have been chief among those things. His father’s death, well, that’s still a process.

“So this is where you take all the cute boys?” Noctis returns to his teasing, something infinitely easier than thinking about Prompto’s father. Though, now that push has come to shove, Noct isn’t entirely sure he wants to think about Prompto taking other people here. It’s not a good thing to be feeling, he thinks, on a second date. Particularly not when their first date was little more than sharing lunch. Still, he likes Prompto. He likes him a lot more than he’s liked anyone in a long time. He might like him more than he’s liked anyone ever. It’s really damn tricky to work out how you’re supposed to feel about any of this, and Noct’s never been great at feelings in the first place.

“Oh, totally. I mean, you’re pretty lucky. I usually have a line a mile long, just praying I’ll bring them here,” Prompto’s voice is absolutely dripping with sarcasm, but he’s still smiling and Noctis manages to laugh it off. It’s a relief, as much as anything, to be reassured that there’s some sense of this being a special occasion. They’re probably both a little bit overdressed for this place, all pressed slacks and dress shirts, Prompto with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, collar open a button or two beyond what is probably acceptable for anything properly formal.

“I’m gonna need some names. Gotta figure out who I’ll be fighting off,” Noctis manages what he thinks is a fair bit of charm in his words and his smile. Prompto responds positively enough, all small huffs of laughter and warmed cheeks. Noctis hasn’t been out with anyone, hasn’t so much as considered flirting with anyone, in what feels like a whole damn lifetime. He’s not sure he was ever any good at it before. Truth be told, he never had to be any good at it before. Maybe the only reason it’s working now is because Prompto hasn’t been doing a lot of dating, either. Maybe it’s just that Prompto’s decided he likes Noct, based on what little information he has to work with. Whatever it is, Noctis is happy to be winning those smiles and those pink cheeks.

“Pretty sure you’re safe on that front,” Prompto replies after another long draw from his drink, something to cool his face and, to Noct’s way of thinking, gather his thoughts. It’s another one of those stupid, endearing things that Noctis really can’t get enough of. Prompto keeps surprising him with more of them, as it happens. When their meals arrive, Noctis notices that he has a very specific way of poking at his food. It’s...peculiar, if Noct is being honest. A lot more playing than eating, for someone who was earlier claiming to be just as hungry as he was. He says there’s a perfect trick, however, to getting exactly the perfect mouthful of this exact pasta dish. He’s happy to show, and then to pass a bite over to Noctis as proof. He has to say, Prompto might be on to something there.

The meal itself is, as Prompto promised, pretty damn delicious. Noctis really is impressed by it all, for a place that Prompto was so concerned about lacking in class, it sure did deliver in being far too delicious to be fair. He’s finished every last scrap, in fact, while Prompto has plenty set away in a nice little take-home container and they’re left waiting on the check. Through all of the frantic scarfing- Noctis really was pretty damn hungry, after all- they might have missed out on more of that essential first date conversation. Prompto talked a little bit about his work, something that Noctis is finding endlessly fascinating, a world pretty starkly in contrast to his own. And they were able to gush back and forth in turn about a game they were both eagerly waiting to release. Noct isn’t sure that any of the conversation had proper substance, but he enjoyed it all the same, enjoyed watching Prompto light up whenever he stumbled onto a favored topic especially.

“So, about that ice cream,” Noctis smiles with the little nudge he gives, one foot into Prompto’s beneath the table. He’s absolutely thrilled, not that he’s about to admit to any of that, to feel Prompto press right back into him, a little higher at his ankle, in return. It’s hard not to break into a proper grin at it, or worse, into laughter, but he manages, if only by the skin of his teeth.

“Dude, really? Where do you pack all that food away?” Prompto laughs though and he adds on almost immediately, “I’ve already got it all planned out, so don’t worry. I wouldn’t dare tease you with dessert and not deliver,” he’s shoving his card back into his wallet and, with these words, stands. Noctis swears he catches a hint of a wink, something that really does make him go all red and flustered himself, but Prompto is laughing again and holding a hand out to Noctis and Noct isn’t about to decline.

As it turns out, Prompto does have everything planned to this end. He walks them, hand-in-hand again, down a block or two, turns off onto a street Noctis might not have noticed if he wasn’t being dragged toward it, and ends them off at a little stand that would be just as easy to miss. It’s a tiny bit of a building, with an unassuming front and a couple benches facing the street. And it really is, Noctis realizes, a perfect night for all of this. A little sign he notices when they make their orders warns customers that the next weekend will be their final of the season. By the looks of things, they probably could have closed already without a person noticing. The night isn’t cold by any normal standards, but set against the summer heat of the past few weeks, it stands out as bordering on chilly. School, too, has likely started again at this point, though Noctis hasn’t paid much attention to that in what really does feel like a lifetime. It all aligns perfectly, though, to leave the two of them sat alone on one of those benches, licking at their cones and knocking their feet together from time to time.

“This place is pretty great. I don’t know anywhere like this,” Noctis feels almost obligated to point the fact out. When it comes down to it, he really has made himself into something of a shut-in. Leaving the apartment isn’t as impossible now as it was right after the worst of his downward spiral, the hardest of his rock bottom, but the recovery has been slow and finding sweet little places to pass a bit of time? Well, not exactly at the height of Noct’s priorities as of late. If anything, he feels just a hint of shame, being all too aware that when it’s his turn to make the date, he won’t know what the hell to do. There’s a little rush with that thought too, though, the thought that he absolutely does want to make another date.

“Dude, you’re way too easy to impress. There’s loads of other places I can take you, y’know. I mean, not right now ‘cause it’s getting late, but normally…” Prompto lets his voice trail off, and there’s just a little tinge of sadness there. Noctis feels it too. He wonders if Prompto had other plans for after this, ones where they went out to hit bars or clubs, the sort of things that Noctis absolutely would not be able to tolerate now- the sorts of things he could barely tolerate before the accident.

“So, you already have a plan for the next date. Make it earlier next time, so I can actually spend some time with you,” Noctis offers him a grin that he thinks is one of his best ones and he presses their shoulders together again. It’s not so much of an impactful nudge this time, though, as it is a desire to be close, to be touching. Their hands weave together again, a bit of instinct, as if they both thought of it at once. Noct has already nearly demolished his ice cream, just about wordlessly at that. He feels like he’s been wasting a lot of opportunities to speak, and like he might be wasting one just now, even with the little flirt, with the question.

“So come back to my place and hang out,” Prompto blurts the words quickly, and Noctis can’t ignore the fact that there’s tension in the hand around his. That frantic, anxious energy that Prompto was absolutely radiating at the start of their date has returned, full-force. And Noctis is left with a decision here. He doesn’t think it’s a hard one, really. He’s enjoyed the time out with Prompto, and he wants to keep enjoying time out with Prompto. He’s pretty sure they’re outside of the window of axe murderer potential and, well, he did tell Ignis he would just throw him a text if he was going to be late. Which means somewhere, in the back of his mind, Noctis was imagining- maybe even hoping- they would be late, “I mean, if you want. We could, like, watch a movie or play something or-”

“-Prompto. Calm down,” Noct makes sure his voice is even, maybe just bordering on playful. He finishes off the last little crumbles of cone, wipes his hands ever-so-elegantly on a pant leg, and turns in the bench to face Prompto. There’s an awkward moment where he’s swallowing down remnants, making a face absurd enough to draw a nervous laugh from Prompto, which Noct decides immediately makes it worthwhile, “that sounds really good. Finish up and we’ll go back to yours. Just don’t have a heart attack on me or something, okay?”

Prompto’s expression lightens immediately, brightens in fact to a full smile and he nods, making a little bit quicker work of his dessert at this point. There’s a voice in the back of Noct’s head asking what the hell he’s just gotten himself into. He decides very specifically to ignore it.

[definitelynotscott]

Dear Author for Purimgifts 2017

Hello, Friend! Do not feel bound by this letter as these are only suggestions. I’m sure I will love whatever you create! However, in case you are feeling lost and directionless in the pursuit of what to write for someone you don’t know very well, I have taken the time to write some things out that will hopefully serve as a compass to point you North. :D

General

Yes, Please. - Positive family stuff like bonding, teasing, meddling, supporting, interfering, protecting, etc. (blood relatives or found family, both are good).

Friendship stuff, I love to see friends working together and helping each other accomplish goals (big or small), also hanging out and just enjoying each other’s company, when they can exchange positive physical contact (hugging, kissing, cuddling) without it being taken as romantic/sexual that makes me happy.

I like romance too, getting together is fine, but that seems to be the most common kind, so if you wanted to do some established relationship stuff (1st-50th anniversary, going on a mission/adventure as a couple for the 1st-50th time, having/adopting a child, raising that child/children, threatening each other’s enemies, etc.) that might be kind of cool.

The trope where soulmates (platonic or romantic) have their first words written on each other’s bodies is fun, especially if one person said something either horrible or commonplace (”Hi,” “Excuse me,” you get the idea) and the other person resents it.

Cultural conflict is awesome. Things where standard behavior, action, phrasing, body language, terminology can lead to conflict, misunderstandings, etc. because they mean one thing in Culture A and something else in Culture B, I love that. (I love Janet Kagan’s books, particularly Hellspark.)

I like to laugh, sometimes at the suffering of fictional characters, but I lean more towards fluff on both the fluff/angst axis and the fluff/smut axis.

While I haven’t written much, I do tend to write what I want/like, so that can give you a clue if you’re still searching

No, Thank You. - Incest, infidelity, torture, gore, rape/non-consensual stuff, mind control, mental collapse/breakdown, teacher/student relationships, the phrase “Make me a woman!” .

Fandom Info

League of Legends

My favorite character is Lux Crownguard, and the fandom portrays her in some ways I don’t like, so I’m just going to come out and tell you what NOT to do and help you avoid accidentally spiking my blood-pressure. Basically it’s a rant about stuff you probably wouldn’t do anyway, so if you want to skip it simply remember I like her better as an awesome superspy and powerful mage than some helpless, naive princess.

*START RANT* Do not write her as stupid or foolish, she is canonically a prodigy. Bubbly and goodhearted does not equal stupid. Do not write her as helpless, she can reverse engineer spells after one viewing in a highly magical world, she is overpowered as hell. Do not write her as overly naive, she was conscripted into the army at age 13 and then served in a spy in Noxus (a place known for being violent and Darwinian, remember?). She may have managed to hold on to her innocence in some ways, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t know what’s what. Don’t write her as a weakling. True, she’s less buff than many champions (she is tiny and a mage) but she went through basic training, is an active member of her country’s army, and runs around wearing metal armor (less than some, but again, she’s a mage). Don’t write her as a weak-willed, submissive, shrinking violet. You cannot channel massive arcane power with a weak will, and, come on, she runs around yelling “In the name of Demacia, I will punish you!” This is a much smaller issue, but I’ve see a couple of stories where they depict Lux as a good cook, which doesn’t seem logical to me. First, she’s a noblewoman, cooking is what servants are for in their eyes. Second, she might have pulled some KP duty in the army, but that doesn’t really lend itself to gourmet cooking (”Look honey, I cooked 15 gallons of beans!” *stifled groan*). The only place I can see her learning to cook would be in Noxus, out of self preservation. And then she definitely wouldn’t advertise it. Demacia’s Lady of Luminosity can cook Noxian food but not Demacian food? How embarrassing! *END RANT*

So, now that I’ve ranted… Things you CAN do in this fandom. I mean… she’s a spy, so she’s probably thrilled when people gauge her wrong. Me, not so much. If you wanted to write something where someone underestimates her and then gets #REKT that would be juuuuuust fine.

If you’re interested in writing something family oriented, Lux and her brother Garen would be something I would enjoy, I love them both. Then, of course, there’s the Du Couteau family. If you want to write about Katarina, Cassiopeia, and Talon interacting that would be fun too!

If you’d like to write about friendship, Lux & Janna hanging out having fun, or comparing magic, or their experience as highly specialized mages would be good. Ezreal & Lux is another possibility. (They’re my NOTP though, but I’ve already ranted once this letter. Just… NO ROMANCE!) I’d love to see the two of them hang out, eat pizza, do each other’s nails, try to hook each other up with people… (romcom hijinks ensue) maybe they double-date the Blood Brothers? *shrugs*

For romance my preference is to pair Lux with Darius or Talon. I know they’re on opposite sides, but the points where they intersect are what interest me. Darius understands loyalty and service, and family, things that are important to her. Talon has more family loyalty than loyalty to his government, and they both assassin and spy aren’t such different careers (the fact that he’s The Blade’s SHADOW, and she’s all about LIGHT tickles my fancy as well). Also, see my previously expressed love for cultural conflict. That’s one reason I like Lux. As someone who understands both Demacian and Noxian culture (she understands it well enough to be an undetected spy there at least) she’s in a good position to solve or instigate some cultural incidents.

Shadow Unit

I’m very sad our time with these characters has ended, so pretty much anything would be great. I feel like the Purimgifts community could fall as much in love with Esther Falkner as I have (which is why I wrote a recommendation), so anything with her would thrill me. As previously mentioned, I like found family dynamics, so some Worth & Gates interaction would be good. Or if you wanted to write something set after the original works I’d love to see something with Nikki in her new role. Some of the Gammas, Natalie Summers-Barrington, Susannah Greenwood, or Anna Krol (especially Anna Krol!) I’d love to read about. If you like writing less fluffy stuff, Frost is always an option!

Marvel Universe

I used to read their comics a lot, and while I haven’t recently, I have a decent understanding of the general Marvel Universe background, so if you want to branch out from the fandoms I have listed go ahead!

My favorite character is Darcy Lewis, although I also love Pepper and Natasha. A story where the three of them combined their powers to save/take over the world would be awesome. Or even something less plot-y and more hanging-out-with-friends would be enjoyable. I did (ahem) write a summary for a Darcy story I’d like to see, and while it’s probably too long for a Purimgifts story XD it might give you an idea or two. If you feel like going crack-y, envision a world where Pepper Potts is a descendant of the Potts family from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. Inventors are her destiny and/or inventing is in her blood!

[ladystylestores]

India’s coronavirus cases, Himalayas, K-pop: Your Monday Briefing

(Want to get this briefing by email? Here’s the sign-up.)

Good morning.

We’re covering India’s growing outbreak, the tensions between India and China in the Himalayas and Lebanon’s financial crisis.

India’s raging coronavirus outbreak reaches a revered actor and his circle

On a day when India reported more than 28,000 new coronavirus infections, one case in particular caught the whole country’s attention: Amitabh Bachchan, a Bollywood star and one of India’s most revered figures.

Mr. Bachchan, known as Big B, announced on Saturday to his 43 million followers on Twitter that he had tested positive, before urging his recent contacts to get tested themselves. His son, Abhishek, and daughter-in-law, Aishwarya Rai Bachchan, both actors, have also become infected.

India, which closed down early and then reopened to save its battered economy, is now racking up about 30,000 new reported infections each day — more than any other country except the United States and Brazil. And it is rapidly catching up to Brazil. With more than 850,000 cases nationwide, hospitals in India are overflowing.

case study: https://www.nytimes.com/2020/07/10/world/europe/coroanvirus-scotland-england.html

Here are the latest updates and maps of where the virus has spread.

In other developments:

Caught between Indian and Chinese troops

Weeks after a deadly brawl erupted along the border between China and India, thousands of both countries’ troops are amassed over a contentious, jagged line in the Himalayas.

New satellite photos reveal a major Chinese buildup, including new tents, storage sheds, artillery pieces and even tanks. It all adds up to a growing Chinese push into the Indian region of Ladakh, a move locals say has been in the works for years.

Our reporter spoke to some of the few thousand Ladakhis trapped in between, who are Tibetan in culture but who identify as Indian. They say that incursions have happened for years within a code of silence.

Details: Indian Army officials, who declined to comment, did not act when Ladakhis told them of Chinese incursions into the area, perhaps avoiding conflict or refusing to face the fact that a more powerful and aggressive military was steadily nibbling away at it.

Context: Analysts say China may be taking a more aggressive approach in the area, and may have been provoked by Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s brand of renewed Indian nationalism.

A protest vote in Hong Kong

Hong Kong’s opposition party said on Sunday that over 600,000 residents of the city cast ballots in primaries that some viewed as a symbolic vote against tough national security laws.

The unofficial poll will decide the strongest pro-democracy candidates to contest elections in September for Hong Kong’s Legislative Council. The party is aiming for a majority in what is usually a pro-Beijing body by riding a wave of anti-China sentiment stirred by the new laws.

Though the primaries are only for the opposition camp, participation can be seen as a gauge for popular opinion. It remains to be seen whether Beijing’s new powers will make that path impossible.

Quotable: “A high turnout will send a very strong signal to the international community, that we Hong Kongers never give up,” said Sunny Cheung, 24, one of a batch of aspiring young democrats out lobbying and giving stump speeches.

If you have 13 minutes, this is worth it

Haunted by those she could not save

For all their hero status, health workers around the world face intense pressure and stress, intensified by this pandemic. Dr. Lorna Breen, above, was known for being an unflappable emergency room doctor in Manhattan — until the virus. She suffered a breakdown in the midst of the crisis, and she died by suicide in April.

Dozens of her loved ones shared memories of her with our reporters, and told them about how she was devastated that she could not help many of her patients. “She had something that was a little bit different,” recalled her colleague and friend Dr. Barbara Lock, “and that was this optimism that her persistent efforts will save lives.”

Here’s what else is happening

China: Xu Zhangrun, a law professor in Beijing known for criticizing the Communist Party, was allowed to go home after being detained a week ago, people familiar with him said.

K-pop: Fans of the band Blackpink, many of them in India, unleashed a torrent of criticism, including accusations of cultural appropriation and disrespect, after a statue of the Hindu god Ganesha flashed onscreen in a music video. The video was removed, and the band apologized. It was another example of how eagle-eyed K-pop fans will come together to push for issues they believe in.

Roger Stone: President Trump’s commutation of the sentence of his former campaign adviser for obstructing an investigation into Mr. Trump’s 2016 campaign was the latest example of Mr. Trump bending legal machinery to his advantage.

In case you missed it: The center-right People’s Action Party, which has never been out of power, won again in Singapore’s elections, but by a narrower margin than usual. The opposition racked up a record 10 of Parliament’s 93 seats.

Snapshot: Above, the police drag protesters in Beirut on Sunday. Our correspondents took stock of how Lebanon’s financial crisis has sent inflation soaring and closed businesses, replacing the city’s once raucous nightlife with an eerie desolation.

What we’re reading: This South China Morning Post article about students derailed by U.S. visa restrictions. “U.S.-China tensions are playing out not just on the world stage but at schools like the University of Rochester, where 19 percent of students are Chinese,” writes Jennifer Jett, an editor in Hong Kong. “But it’s not as simple as one side against the other.”

Now, a break from the news

Cook: David Tanis’s vegetarian burger doesn’t mimic the texture or look of ground meat, but it isn’t meant to. It’s more like deluxe refried beans, with an egg on top.

Read or listen: The Times Magazine’s “Decameron Project,” inspired by Boccaccio’s 14th-century tales during the plague, brings together 29 new short stories from writers including Margaret Atwood, Yiyun Li, Esi Edugyan and Charles Yu. You can listen to two of the stories here.

Make: You can turn your copy of The Times (or any other newspaper) into ornamental beads, with a little glue and our templates.

Reopening and reclosings seem to be everywhere. For those minimizing their exposure, At Home has our full collection of ideas on what to read, cook, watch, and do.

And now for the Back Story on …

Personal finance lessons

Paul B. Brown, a freelance writer, entered the pandemic believing he was in good shape financially, but he lost most of his income virtually overnight. Now, he says, he has a lot more to do. He shared some of the lessons he has learned.

Keep even more cash on hand.

The standard personal finance advice is to have at least three months of living expenses stashed away in something liquid and ultrasafe. I am going to try to get that number up to a year’s worth of reserves. The goal is more to create peace of mind than to increase my net worth. I never want to worry about meeting day-to-day expenses again.

Manage debt more aggressively.

I’ve always paid off my full credit card balances each month, so I have never had credit card debt. But I do have three mortgages. I always paid more than I had to each month on each mortgage, because I considered prepaying a kind of forced savings. The mortgages have different interest rates. From now on, I am going to put all extra payments toward the one with the highest interest rate.

Keep the big picture in mind.

You never buy insurance because you hope to submit a claim someday. You do it to protect against a time when something awful may happen. I have always thought of saving money the same way.

But the pandemic has made me realize that I’m not sure how much I’ll really need to have salted away to protect my family and to keep our solidly middle-class standard of living intact, both now and into the future.

That’s it for this briefing. See you next time.

— Melina

Thank you To Theodore Kim and Jahaan Singh for the break from the news. You can reach the team at briefing@nytimes.com.

P.S. • We’re listening to “The Daily.” Our latest episode is on the fate of President Trump’s tax records. • Here’s our Mini Crossword, and a clue: Ingredient in a croque monsieur sandwich (three letters). You can find all our puzzles here. • “The Jungle Prince of Delhi,” a Times story about the mysterious royal family of Oudh from the reporter Ellen Barry, is being adapted for an Amazon series by the director Mira Nair.

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[whitesinktops-blog]

A Guide To 12 Different Kinds Of Kitchen Sinks

Most fireclay or cast iron sinks will not work with this installation technique because of their heaviness. The personal service we constantly strive to uphold guarantees we will work closely with you to attain your preferred item.

Lillngen gutviken sink as is a pullout faucet ikea colander strainer adjustable over sink for a hard to. Thats simple to the home apart from pinterest.

A deep bowl is helpful for washing big pots and bathing pets, whilst a shallower bowl is fine for numerous other tasks. If it is not fitted correctly (particularly with undermounts), it could harm your countertops, which could be costly to repair.

The sink is made from fireclay which is tough & tends to make me not have to be concerned about scratching or chipping the sink at all. My grandpa and brother installed it.

I think that this sink will be in a position to give anybody what they are looking for when it comes to the best farmhouse sink, and it will be in a position to satisfy anybody who installs it.

This sink line consists of both stainless steel models, as well as glass and porcelain models. From traditional style to contemporary style, every Franke sink offers exquisite craftsmanship.

Industrial sink guide - right here you will discover about all the different sorts of sinks and also discover much more general guides. They also like the stunning colour and the minimal splashes related with this sink.

Right here are the most well-liked kitchen sinks available in the marketplace. Ruvati RVH8001 Drop-In-Overmount Kitchen Sinks is made up of 16 gauge premium high quality steel. On the upside it is colour goes via the material and there is nothing underneath the surface that can corrode.

The sink should not be attached to your countertop with the same hardware that is utilized for other, lighter sinks. A rimless or undermount sink attaches or is fused to the underside of the counter though the installation is much more tough, this setup is considerably simpler to keep clean.

Permitting for dual use, 1 side can be allocated to cleaning whilst the other sink is utilized for meals preparation. The 1 and a half sink with drainer offers a versatile approach to kitchen preparation whilst sustaining practicality and not taking up excessive space on the kitchen bench.

Either way, those old sinks can have a fantastic new life in the potting shed, backyard, or garage as a utility sink. This 1 has a reversible style that lets you select between putting a flat and smooth side on the front or utilizing a side with slots across the front.

’s soapstone, primarily based on the appear and really feel (sadly, the bottom of the sink was set on a reinforced cement platform, so I couldn’t see if the seal of the soapstone manufacturer was present.

Farmhouse sinks’ big basin tends to make it simple to fit big pots or pans for soaking and cleaning, but tends to make it hard to soak and rinse dishes at once.

The hotter the water, the much more bacteria it kills. I do baking soda and hot vinegar (microwave it) and then boiling water.

With these 3 stages, you should be in a position to deal with any of the contaminants in the water. 18/10 stainless steel consists of 18% chromium which provides the sink its extraordinary shine and 10% nickel which offers rust resistance.

Once you have had dinner with the family members and shared the events of your day, the time for clean-up will usually be lingering close to. How large should the basins be - and how numerous do I need? In short, your basins need to be big enough to immerse the greatest pot you have.

So I was truly hesitant to go with 1 of those. But also, it is much more fascinating and much more enjoyable to have 1 that is distinctive.

Answer: That bad smell is because there is a downdraft when the stove is not working, regardless of the chimney draft being OK when the stove is working.

Cast iron sinks are available in all-natural earth tone colors but also in pretty pastel blues, oranges, and even pinks. Granitec Inc. sensible features and innovations are by no means compromised for style or fads.

Following diverting the water from the primary cold water pipe, it passes via the filter and comes out of a separate faucet that is been mounted to the sink.

Hush up: A rubber undercoating will deaden the sound of running water and clattering dishes, particularly in stainless steel sinks. Kohler has long been recognized as a leader in bathroom and kitchen style. Kohler faucets set the trends for kitchen faucets, bath faucets, shower faucets and whirlpool faucets.

Simple to clean - The porcelain surface is non-porous and smooth creating it resistant to staining and simple to keep clean. Copper cookware comes in original bare surface or tin lined primarily based on kind of the meals.

Most drainboard sinks are drop-in or self-rimming. The purpose is that drainboard sinks are inherently self-rimming. And whether or not utilized kitchen sinks for sale is polished, or brushed. There are 6,275 utilized kitchen sinks for sale suppliers, primarily situated in Asia. Utilized kitchen sinks for sale goods are most well-liked in North America, Oceania, and South Asia.

If you are looking for the sink to be a focal point, appear no additional. The apron front sink is a statement piece! Keep in thoughts that a higher flow rate is not usually the best choice, particularly if you are trying to be ecologically-conscious, as it will significantly improve the water consumption of your sink and washing routine.

Creating this particular sink an addition to your kitchen is going to help you in the cooking and cleaning process of your dishes. It is best to set up the basket strainer and faucet prior to installing the sink. Mount the basket strainer first.

With this in thoughts, here’s a breakdown of some of the well-liked sink choices available and essential points to think about to help you work out what’s right for you and your home.

Once you have narrowed down to the sink that will best fit your needs, check out our extensive choice of kitchen sinks to discover 1 that suits your kitchen.

Particular coatings are applied to the body to stop rusting. Some cleaning fluid might react to the coating and trigger visible harm on it.

[ourartzoneblog-blog]

TruDesign Blog: Easy Ways to Prevent Boat Breakdown

Keep Your Boat in Great Condition Longer

Raritan Engineering Company your TruDesign specialists would like to share with you these topics we thought would be of interest to you this month regarding future alternative boat fuels powering your success.

Your TruDesign professionals talk about how many boats use small lashing to tighten and finish off their lifelines. Don't depend on the small 1/8” stainless loop welded on the pulpit. Instead, run the small lashing through the small stainless loop and then around the entire leg of the pulpit. 

For example, a broken outhaul can ruin a race. But you can be prepared for this with a few simple ideas. On small boat such as the Melges 24, I install a small 'V' cleat at the back of the boom on one side and drill a small hole on the other side. 

If you have a loose-footed main, you attach the mainsheet blocks using lashing or loops that go completely around the boom rather than just through an eye on the underside of the boom. Like the lifelines, this is much stronger and safer.

10 Simple Solutions for the Most Common Boating Breakdowns

You've seen the bumper sticker: A bad day of boating is better than a good day at work. Cute, but would you really feel that way if you were adrift 10 miles from the ramp, with a boatload of tired, cranky passengers and an engine that won't start? At that point, you don't need a slogan, you need a plan.

Sometimes, your only option might be to ask for help – either from a professional towing company or a fellow boater. But in most instances a well-prepared skipper can make the necessary repairs to get the boat back to port without assistance. 

#1: It's Sputtering and Losing Power

Your boat feels like it's running out of strength (and you've ruled out the No. 1 breakdown reason – running out of fuel). You most likely have a filter problem or fouled plugs.

Solution: Replace the in-line fuel filter – you did bring a spare, didn't you? If not, you can at least remove and clear the filter element of any debris, and drain any accumulated water. 

Prevention: It's possible to buy a bad load of fuel, but it's more likely that the fuel went bad while in your boat. Leaving a tank near empty for long periods of time can cause condensation and water in the gas. 

Older tanks might have debris at the bottom, which can get stirred up as the fuel level drops. The best solution might be increased filtration. Consider adding a larger aftermarket fuel filter. And don't forget the spare elements.

Carry Onboard: Spare filter or filter element and a filter wrench.

Good Boat Maintenance Means Less Spending Later On

#2: The Belt Broke

You probably won't hear the sound of a drive belt breaking over the general engine noise, but you will know something's wrong when your overheat warning light comes on, or your voltage meter shows that the alternator isn't charging. Having a broken belt is a scenario unique to inboards and I/Os, and one that can shut you down in hurry. Without a belt intact, you'll have no alternator or water pump.

We are proud to be your TruDesign supplier here at Raritan Engineering. Visit us and see how we are the #1 expert in marine sanitation supplies.

Solution: There's a lot of info out there on jury-rigging a temporary belt by using fishing line or pantyhose or some such. This might work, but wouldn't it be easier to just carry a spare, along with the wrenches needed to change it?

Prevention: Inspect, tighten and dress the belt. You also might want to check the condition of the pulleys' contact surfaces. Sometimes, corrosion can cause rough spots on the pulleys that will eat a brand-new belt in short order.

Carry Onboard: Marine tool kit, which includes everything needed for this and other basic repairs.

#3: The Engine Is Overheating

The needle on the temperature gauge is rising. This almost always means you have a lack of water flow in the cooling loop. Outboards, most small inboards and I/Os don't have radiators like your car, and instead use the water they are floating on to cool the engine. 

Solution: Trace the source. In a vast majority of cases, the problem is an obstruction in the raw water intake – like weeds, mud or a plastic bag. Locate the intake and clean it out.

A loose hose clamp or a split or burst hose can also slow water flow, and it can spray damaging moisture around the engine.

Prevention: Regularly service and replace the impeller. Also look at the condition of its housing. Scarring or pitting of the metal housing can cause even a good impeller to lose pumping power.

Make sure you or your mechanic checks for corrosion or blockage in the exhaust system. Every so often, have the exhaust risers and associated components opened up for inspection. 

Carry Onboard: Soft wire or rod to snake intake clogs.

So don't forget these great reminders on how to keep your boat in great condition. 1) If your engine is sputtering or losing power…..Replace the in-line fuel filter;  2) if the belt brakes…..There's a lot of info out there on jury-rigging a temporary belt by using fishing line or pantyhose or some such, or bring a spare;  and 3) the engine is overheating…..Trace the source. In a vast majority of cases, the problem is an obstruction in the raw water intake – like weeds, mud or a plastic bag. Locate the intake and clean it out.

New Zealand fisherman reels in 321-pound marlin too big for his boat

Josh Roberts spent an hour reeling in the massive marlin. “It was an epic day,” he said.

A 25-year-old angler in New Zealand caught himself a monster marlin during a fishing trip late last week – but the fish was so large he couldn't even haul it into his boat.

“It was an epic day,” recalled Josh Roberts, a Whangarei resident, of his 321-pound catch.

“It had a lot of fight in it, so I got the fish to the boat in about half an hour, then tried to pull it in but failed because it still had plenty of energy left in it,” said Roberts, according to the New Zealand Herald.

“I basically tied it up alongside the boat so it would drag through the water,” said Roberts, adding that he raced back to shore to avoid having his catch stolen by sharks.  

Roberts hauled his catch home and used a relative's smoker to cook the fish. He said he plans to give much of it away to co-workers and family, and then it's right back out to the water.

“The forecast looks pretty good again for Friday, so I think I'll be out there again,” Roberts told the Herald. “I just love being out there on the water.”

Order your TruDesign parts here at Raritan Engineering and see how we provide you the best products in the marine sanitation industry today.

Be sure to watch our latest video on TruDesign below. 

via Tweaked: Four Breakdown-Prevention Tricks

via Top 10 Reasons Boat Breakdown

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