#just really trying to internalize how much of life is just in flux and is a wave rather than a series of jagged lines that go up and down

[yongseungkim]

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[foxymoxynoona]

I'll admit I'm struggling with this story, lol. I'm trying to figure out your plan, and not-so-secretly love that I can't. One thing I have noticed, and it might just be my sharp JK bias, but other than when Sasha dumped him, it almost feels like he's always the "bad guy", the one doing stupid shit that causes problems for them. So much so that when I read these other asks, most readers are usually on Sashs's "side" of whatever the current conflict is. I guess what I'm saying is that I'm waiting for something to make me understand why she loves him and stays with him. Sometimes the relationship feels uneven. Yet I know it's not and that she most definitely has her issues. But, he has to have issues too, right? The way he grew up in the spotlight, privileged, prodigious, but also imprisoned in a lot of ways. I don't know what I'm saying here exactly, but I just wonder if his acting out/rebelliousness needs some addressing? If maybe he wanted to be caught? I'm sorry for rambling. I'm avoiding going back to work. Can't wait for what you have planned, as always.

😎 It's great fun watching the tide go back and forth and often eddy into division about who's giving more or causing more problems or pulling more of their weight. There are definitely plenty of "why is she with him" comments but also just about as many "she's holding out on him" comments, etc etc. You could say that Sasha has some deeper attachment issues that impact the relationship while JK is more likely to make short-sighted mistakes, but there are also examples of the opposite for both of them. Truly a mess, haha!

I think I've mentioned before, I think Flux was a lot of rapid growth for Sasha due to her internal conflicts imploding. My Matryoshka leans more into Jungkook's struggles, which surfaced in the last book when he basically melted down over their breakup but were sort of tamped down as he focused on Sasha. Many readers had commented about feeling like Jungkook didn't actually realize or address just how much he struggled in Flux --and here we are in My Matryoshka seeing more things bubble, some of which are his own doing and some of which are a result of his career/lifestyle. He's been pushing boundaries more and more over time as he tries to develop a sense of control and his own identity. It makes sense Sasha is a boundary he'll push against too --and arguably that can be a positive thing, for him to feel confident and secure enough to test that relationship, but the context of boundary pushing is not necessarily... comfortable, let's say.

I think what I'm trying to say is, sometimes "bad" (rebellious, acting out, however you want to phrase it) behavior has a really important ,valuable developmental reason. Look at toddlers and teenagers and the hell they can put their loved ones through 😂 Originally Sasha was part of his boundary pushing, then she became a boundary to push against, and so on.

As for the question "why does she love him/be with him" or the reverse comes up a lot with readers and it's very interesting to me. Why is anyone with the person they're with? Some blend of ilogical emotion/attachment, careful evaluation, choice, and stubbornness despite the difficulties. I suppose there are relationships where things are only ever easy, but for many in long term relationships there are going to be rough patches and it comes down to the individuals in the relationship and how they decide for themselves what's worth staying for or when it's time to leave. From my own personal experience, life can get hard in ways it's impossible to predict, and the impact that past trauma can have on a relationship can be really, really hard to work through on top of that. Hard doesn't necessarily mean not worth it!

It makes sense that we spend a great deal of time evaluating the relationships we see in stories to decide our own boundaries and needs. In this case, I do have a master plan of what I'm trying to convey with their relationship, but it's a long term message. Sometimes I'm so impatient and wish I could just skip ahead or give the answers, but the journey is part of it 😎 So we will all have to be patient and live it.

Trust me, it's harder for me to be patient hahah

[ectogeo-rebubbles]

ok i know about several of these fics already but post-second-skin and also (carl anderson voice from the movie version of jcs) damned for alllllll tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiime

Thanks for the ask!

(for this WIP ask game)

Damned for all time is a Kira/Winn ficlet set during the scene in Strange Bedfellows (I think?) where Kai Winn goes to Kira for advice bc she's just learned she's been hearing from the Pah-Wraiths not the Prophets! It was inspired by a prompt (your prompt lol) for the Sapphic Summer event. But maybe they also fuck or at least kiss a little? I'm currently struggling with this one bc of the word limit for the event being only 100-250 words lol, and I keep going over that when I try to write it, so I need to really refine the idea down to like the Essentials. No snippet right now bc it's so in flux, sorry

Post-Second Skin first time is a Garashir getting together fic in which Garak has big, big exile angst. <3 Garak also maaaaaybe (definitely) has some unhealthy ideas about sex because he's never really been with anyone except as part of a mission. There's also a mismatch in their mindsets because Garak does not let on at first how very angsty he is and at first Julian only sees the flirty front he's putting up. So Julian's just internally like wheeeee we're finally fucking yaaaay ^_^ <3, and Garak is internally like oh no I am a horrible person, I am clearly somehow deceiving him into wanting to be with me and I can't do that to the man I love (oh no, oh fuck, I love him so much) T_T, and that angst all reaches a breaking point, after which Julian comforts Garak. <3

Post-Second Skin first time snippet below the cut:

He’d been invited over to make up for the late snack they’d had to postpone last week when he’d brought Julian the news of Major Kira’s kidnapping by the Obsidian Order. He’d been to Cardassia and back since then and he felt… Well, he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that. 

Cardassia was the same as it had always been. The air tasted the same, the heat pressed against his scales like always. It was a little bit devastating that it was the same; his absence hadn’t mattered to anyone but him. 

And yet, it was also completely different. He was different now, exile having changed him in ways he hadn’t realized until confronted with his home again, and now everything that should have been familiar suddenly looked so strange to him. The difference had manifested in more obvious ways too, in that he had been, for the moment, working against the Obsidian Order to rescue a Bajoran soldier for a Federation commander. 

But all of that could have been forgiven, perhaps: he had been coerced after all. What was much less forgivable was how disconnected he’d felt, like there wasn’t a place for him here anymore. Like he could never go back. 

This station wasn’t home either. He knew that he was only allowed to stay because he’d made it a priority to make himself useful to the station’s new owners. It had been his idea in the first place to prove his value by helping out in the Tahna Los business, so he couldn’t begrudge the commander for putting him to use. He’d invited it. He’d auditioned for the role. A favor or two a year was usually an easy price to pay. 

But it had rattled him, to nearly be evicted just because he didn’t want to risk his life by breaking the terms of his exile. There was nowhere else for him to go that was far enough away from his enemies yet close enough that he could stay involved in Cardassian affairs. If he had to leave the station, he would never be able to prove himself to Tain or whoever else might be convinced to rescind his exile. 

And so as he sat here in Julian’s quarters, he wanted Julian to curl his arm around his waist and claim him as his own. He wanted this kind of thing often—and he was nearly certain that Julian wanted something more than friendship with him too—but he hadn’t dared get involved with him. Now, the usual longing was laced with something else, a desire for stability, a way to keep some measure of control on his life. If he were in a relationship with a Federation member—a senior officer on the station, no less—then he couldn’t be forced to leave so readily.

Garak swallowed. He could start something so easily. Julian would take him to bed if he asked, he was sure of it. And Garak would figure out how to please his alien body as quickly as he always had with his targets. He’d fill him or surround him or slide against him, do whatever he wanted, until Julian needed him, desperately. He’d make himself completely available to him, to use at his discretion. He’d give him so much pleasure and so selflessly that soon Julian wouldn’t be able to live without him, and would feel drawn to help him. 

Maybe Julian could even some day fall in love with him.

[lluxoperon]

You don’t realize how much you depend on balance until you don’t have it

Ok here goes, this is a long one and a bit personal. I’m hoping that’s by sharing this, it may help someone experiencing something similar. Full disclosure here - I’m not going to even attempt to pretend to apologize for any language, because sometimes nothing better fits or gets the message across as poignant or elegant as a well placed sentence enhancer.

Simply put, chronic and/or long term health things suck ass. Serious donkey balls sucks. Serious. Like… Fuck. That. Shit. Sucks. Especially when you spend a months (or longer) not knowing what the actual fuck is going on with yourself or a loved one. It also sucks much less when you have people in your life that genuinely give a few of their own precious fucks in their life to you to help you get through it all, when your fucks to give are coming up short to a complete lack thereof.

I’ve been down a really shitty road of a long term thing once before when it took an agonizingly long 6+ years to diagnose my cluster headaches at a time they weren't really understood by anyone in the medical industry, let alone common people. The amount of “just fucking relax, it’s only anxiety” I heard that time from literally EVERYONE (including my past SO's) around me at the time was outright maddening. “Yea I fucking have anxiety because all you fuckers either don’t care, think I’m faking this shit, or you can’t figure this shit out because you suck or never heard of this”. The lack of a good support system is not helpful as best, damaging at worst. And if I am being honest, I kind of expected that again from my past experiences. However, this time around, it's been night and day compared to before. I’m not being made to feel crazy, and it's quite a breath of fresh air. My wife, Niki, has been all kinds of helpful and supportive. I write all this as much for her as myself, she's been deep in it with me right from the start.

So to the present... Some of you online have noticed I haven't been posting a lot of my photography for quite some time. Some of you that have seen me in person recently may have noticed I’m using a cane lately, and/or noticed I haven’t been my usual jet-setting self as much I usually am. International travel stopped completely after Nürnberg in Feb 2023. Some people asked about it, some have been polite and just nodded and not asked. Some have ignored it altogether, as I know some aren’t comfortable talking about personal stuff, either their own or other people's. I appreciate however you feel about it, but full open kimono, I’m not embarrassed about it, nor do I mind talking about it, it just is what it is. It's a crazy story, and I often forget details when I am rambling (why I'm writing this in the first place). I guess talking about it also is in my best interest if anyone else has even heard of someone dealing with this. Trying to figure out what it is has been an ordeal, mostly because it's so uncommon, but I’m not giving the fuck up. My brain won’t let me stop trying to figure it out, but some of this all is still in flux.

After getting back from Nürnberg, I started having a weird ear thing, where I was noticing a weird warble effect in my right ear, basically like an echo or reverb. I have gotten this actually quite often over the years, as I had bad ear infections when I was a kid, and it’s also something that just happens with my cluster headaches, or allergies. No big thing, whatever. However, one day after doing some work on our backyard, breaking up concrete, I put my finger in my ear to get some concrete dust out, and I fell backwards onto the kitchen counter. Whoa. Vertigo. What was that?!? Ok... that’s weird. I go to take a shower and as I get to clean out my ear and my eyes start shifting uncontrollably left and right. Wait, what?!? No fucking way. What?!? Ugh. That doesn’t feel great, it also makes my head spin. Ok yea, don’t do THAT anymore. "Niki come look!" Yea, weird... Ok. Put that out of my head. Let’s see if it goes away. It does a bit, but my head is still all wobbly for days and weeks, but maybe I'm just super tired. I mean we were going all out on working outside in our backyard to get 'er done before summer hits in typical Vegas fashion. I get a referral from my GP for an ENT. I find one local to Vegas, they do not return my calls. Typical for here, so yea... A couple months go by...

I fly to LA in April for some tattoo work, all is ok. Over the next week, I have industry conventions to go to on the Strip, all is ok. I'm starting to wear my mask a little less around people, no big thing. All good, tired, but good. A few people come over, I play some Beat Saber with them, I get a little nauseous and dizzy playing, but I figure I'm a bit over exhausted from being on the Strip all week, work, travel to LA, meetings back to back, and house work. The finger in the eye still produces the weird eye thing (it's called nystagmus I find). Still no big deal, right? The fates are laughing in your general direction... Enter one of the largest wind storms we've seen to date in Vegas. My allergies now are through the roof. I get yearly hay fever, so not surprised at all. I start up the Allegra I take each year for my allergies. We go out drinking with friends on the Strip, we all eat too much, drink too much. Back home, in middle of the night, I get up to pee, and as normal, I don't turn on the light in our WC. I'm not barely even drunk any more at this point. I turn around to go back to bed and next thing I know I am splat out on the floor, I don't even know how I fell, or even remember falling. Somehow I ripped off the TP holder on the way down, I'm confused and tired. Niki helps me get back to bed. I'm REALLY confused at this point, and a bit more dizzy than I have been in weeks.

Two days later, I fly back out to LA for a demo for people from the EU, I'm listening to an audio book, and as the plane starts going descending to land in Burbank, I am struck with the most INSANE vertigo, my eyes rolling back into my skull, I feel like the plane is crashing, this is how I die type vertigo. My eyes can't be controlled be damned holy shit I can barely stand once the plane lands I want to crawl to my rental car. Nope, I'm done. I am NOT going to my demo, it's not going to happen, I need to get back home ASAP. I call Niki, I need urgent care, this is not good. I'm dying. WTF is going on?! Holy shit! I'm NOT going back on a plane, fuck THAT shit, I'm driving right now back home to Vegas. I drive. The entire time, I'm either focused on an audio book or Niki over the phone. I can't look over my shoulders. I probably should NOT be driving. I don't fucking care, I need to get home. NOW. I have no way to get home. Fuck THIS. GO. I drive like a banshee. It's the worst drive to Vegas from Burbank, EVER. When I start the trek into Primm down the mountain, the vertigo gets even worse, like when the plane was descending. OMFG it's the goddamn air pressure! Holy jeez. Nope this is not fun. At all. I make it home, somehow.

We get to urgent care later that day:

UC Doc - "Huh that's weird, yea. Yea, you have uh some redness in your ear. Looks like an old infection."

Me - "Uhhhhhhhhhhhh, I still am having the vertigo like a fucking madman, it's been all day now, and my eyes are doing this stupid nystagmus. This isn't BPPV (Benign paroxysmal positional vertigo - ear crystals), or Labyrinthitis, I have had those before. It's doesn't feel the same. And obviously the air pressure change is making it worse. "

UC Doc - "Oh, Ok you know your terms, good. Been down that road before I see. Maybe it's Meniere's, but that usually has hearing loss and not the nystagmus. Here's some steroids and antibiotics."

Yea, I obviously need to get into see that ENT like right now. I call and leave messages. I'm still having the vertigo. I email. Nothing. Days go by, did I mention, the vertigo has NOT stopped. FINALLY get ahold them. Appointment in 1.5 months. I did say the vertigo hasn't stopped, right? JUNE?!? Uh... ok. well... shit. Hello vertigo, my new bestie. You're an asshole, bestie. On top of this, now I start realizing my balance is crap, I close my eyes, I just fall and can't feel it. Wow, ok, that is something new to fucking panic about. Lovely. Thank the fates and our good taste that we have a really comfy couch to park my ass for most of the day. We're still trying to get some things done outside, but I'm feeling like washed shit and can't help much while I wait. Vertigo is the new baseline of my days.

Finally see the ENT in June. By this point I am having vertigo on and off all day long. New constant is always fucking dizzy as fuck. Like you drank too much on a boat and got back to shore and your feet can't find the horizon, it's my new Jack Sparrow Sway. Do a bunch of tests. No hearing loss. Air pressure still fucks my shit up, they can't even finish that test. Finger in the ear still making my eyes have the nystagmus. My ear looks fine. We all assume it's just my right ear. Nothing significant to report, but probably, maybe, definitely not Meniere's. Maybe. Maybe it's a fistula (tiny hole). Time for a CT Scan, only way to see that. Maybe they can put in a drainage tube to help with the air pressure, but we'll see. He also gives me a nose spray (Flonase) for my allergies, maybe it'll help.

It's not a fistula. This is "weird", ok this is clearly past this ENT's wheelhouse. Let's get you to our other Neurotologist/ENT 2 in July. This is going nowhere quickly. Groan. I stop taking the Allegra for the Flonase spray. Helps the allergies way better, but does nothing else. Now I'm starting to get fatigue every day. Can't go an entire day without a nap. This shit is draining me, for real. I'm not keen to fly to LA for work meetings, I cancel flights. Besides the fear of air pressure changes triggering me, I'm just so damned tired. All the time.

End of June, my legs start to twitch uncontrollably at night and fucking hurt. WTAF. Dude, seriously?!? Now my legs are twitchy and my balance is still shit. Let's just say I am not loving life right now. I am in super pain all up and down my legs, it's agony. I get a couple what I assume are 3 bug bites on the back of my left knee, and 4 on my thigh, they are PAINFUL, and are not healing. I'm about to loose my mind. After a week or so of this, we go back to urgent care.

"Oh this is an easy one, it's Shingles." Wait, WHAT?!??! I'm way too young for that. "Well, looks like you are past the point any antiviral will do anything, so here is some antibiotic cream for the sores. Have a nice day." This just keeps getting better and better. Also, still dizzy all the time. Vertigo daily, STILL. Leaning on Niki hard while we are out, because any time it's dark and/or inclines in any direction, or I close my eyes, I still can't feel myself falling. Like at all, it's fucking scary. Shingles is no joke, but shingles AND all this vertigo, dizzy, and crap balance. I'm not in a good mood, ever, at this point. Understandably.

Back to the ENT 2, whom specializes in balance disorders and neuro related ear things. "Yea that finger in the ear thing is super interesting, never seen that before. Weird. Let's get a massive barrage of blood work to check everything from vitamins to lyme disease to neurosyphilis and a brain MRI. Also let's get a VNG (Videonystagmography) test to see where your balance is at. See you back in a month. Super weird, wild man, this is crazy." Cool man, glad you are entertained. I'm half amused, half annoyed.

Get all the bloodwork and MRI, now we wait. Waiting is always the worst part. You know, there are DAYS and weeks were the base line doesn't change. So while you wait, you are IN it and waiting.

At the VNG test, negative for BPPV (knew that already, since day one), my eyes work fine with tracking. Great. My hearing is fine, so it's not Meniere's. It's not Labyrinthitis (figured that as well). Moving to the next test, my eyes are not moving when my ears are stimulated by hot or cold air. Like at all, ZERO reaction. In BOTH ears and eyes. I ask 'What's supposed to happen when you do that? No reaction? Not get nauseous?" She replies, "Actually... the opposite, you are SUPPOSED to have a reaction." Oh... "Total caloric eye speed of 6, and 24 is the target for normal. Your vestibular system is not working, in EITHER ear. This generally means Bilateral Vestibular Hypofunction (BVH), and you should do PT, specifically VRT (Vestibular Rehabilitation Therapy)."

We go back to ENT 2, bloodwork all fine, except positive for Mono. Huh? "Is this from the shingles?" "No, anyone who has had Mono can have a positive result for the rest of their lives." Uh... actually, no I know that isn't true, but we'll skip over this for now and not worth the argument, maybe it's just a false positive. Too many other things to think about. MRI came back with some white matter lesions, but he says common with migraine. But I don't get migraines. "Oh, well it's probably Vestibular Migraine which is causing the vertigo, which doesn't always come with headaches per se." Coincidentally, not a single cluster headache since all this started. "So, let's start you on some Nortriptyline, and see if that works. Also, yes, start the VRT asap."

I start the new med and the VRT. When I go the the eval for the VRT, they do some more tests. My overall balance is at 50% overall of what is usual for my age. How???? Why??? They confirm when my eyes are closed, my balance is takes a nose dive of the shallow end. It's nil, nada, zip, zero, zilch, completely non-existent. This is not cool. Not fun or cool, at all. "Ok, so what do I do or take to get it back?" Not so fast, it's going to take time. And all this stupid VRT twice a week, doing exercises every day, morning and night at minimum. Well fuck.

Ok FINE. 1 month of VRT. I start using a cane, while out and about, so I don't have to lean directly on Niki.

2 months. Wobble is the new norm. Fuck you new norm. Fuck you very fucking much. Oh hey! I can now feel myself falling, well happy fucking birthday to me. There is THAT.

3 months, October. The vertigo has subsided quite a bit, now maybe getting it once a week. Maybe it's the medication, more likely it's the VRT. Most likely my brain was just "short-circuiting" from the loss of my balance. Ok, now... WHY. I need to know what happened, this still sucks, I'm still wobbly, I can't walk without a cane in the dark. Still dizzy all the time, but getting better. My balance has gone up to 72% of what it should be, but still completely zero eyes closed (or dark). I NEED TO KNOW, because how else will I "fix" this, right?

I'm getting antsy. I start getting out of my comfort zone and go to Lowe's without Niki just to see, obviously with the cane. I'm not having the vertigo. I want to go to my October meetings in LA. Dear lord, the airplane... I don't have enough energy to drive. Niki finds these ear plugs on Amazon for regulating air pressure (EarPlanes). Ok, let's try a quick single day trip. It goes surprising well. I have vertigo a couple times, albeit super quick episodes while on the trip. The EarPlanes work fucking amazingly, some positive news, finally. Maybe I can actually manage this. Everyone looks at the cane, most are confused. Everyone I chat with while in LA are supportive when I tell them what's going on. Best comment was: "maybe you should just say you laid down a motorcycle on a highway to save a pregnant lady and jacked your leg up". I love my people and our shared sense of dark humor.

November, I consult with my GP. Should I see a Neurologist? It couldn't/wouldn't hurt. Ok, appointment set for end of December (four days before Christmas), and my VRT "ends" in early Dec (fuck you very much medical insurance). I'll continue to do the exercises at home for now I guess. If I'm going to need the cane for a while, I might as well get one I like, so I do.

We go to the Neurologist. It's a very weird visit. He's is asking me questions, taking his time responding. Very nice guy, obviously thinks before speaking. Going over all my results I sent over. Very thoughtful.

Neurologist - "Take out your phone, open the camera."

Me - "Ok."

Neurologist - "Here take a photo so you can refer to it later, this spot right here on your MRI."

Me - "Yea, got it."

Neurologist - "Your ENT missed this, he saw possible migraine on the list of possible things and left it at that. These white matter lesions concern me."

Me - "Yes, we talked about that, I mentioned that about 15 mins ago when you asked me my other visits."

Neurologist - "Yea, ok. He missed this. I think you have MS."

Me - .......................

Neurologist - "Let's get you more bloodwork done, neck and spine MRIs... *cue Charlie Brown wah wahs* "

Me - ....

Neurologist - "... and a spinal tap."

Me - "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck."

Neurologist - "I know, sorry, they aren't fun. But let's do that and follow back up in Jan, and go from there."

Me - "Ok, wait you said MS?!?!? What then?"

Neurologist - "It can be dealt with, but it would account for all you said, plus all the weirdness with all the results so far."

As you can imagine, it was a quite anxious Christmas and New Years. More blood work, 10 vials taken in all at once for one, PTSD flashback to blood drawn when I was a kid when they found my iron deficiency. Brain electricity scans. MRA head and neck. MRI neck and spine. Already getting sick of getting poked and prodded. Then comes spinal tap time. 1 star, do not recommend. Hated it. "It'll just be a pinch..." Liars! Nope my body didn't like it one bit, it hurt like hell, all up my back and down both legs. Recovery was even worse, laid out on the couch with a proper migraine for a week straight. Like brain is going to leak out your ears migraine, light sensitive and all that. Nothing helped, not ice, not pain meds. Nada. Good times, indeed. Apparently, I've actually have actually never had a migraine before. Weird, huh?

Go back to Neurologist. "I'm not convinced it's MS." Well ok, thanks for that month and half panic attack and all the testing to go with it. "Maybe it's NMO." If it's not that, then he will refer me to another Neurologist for a second opinion just to make sure. Gotta love the go get 'em, figure it out attitude, but bro... send me for tests, but maybe don't tell me the worst case each time right up front. Go for even more bloodwork. "Btw, you have some syrinxes (cysts) in your cervical and thoracic spine. We're you dropped as an infant?" Huh? Uh, I don't think so? "Ok anyhow those won't do anything with this condition, but something to monitor yearly or so now."

I go out to Palms Springs for work. A whole 4 days planned. First night, I'm walking back to my room and it's pitch fucking black on the sidewalk, and I have to walk up a grassy area because of a puddle. I have to call Niki because I just cannot deal. I'm stressed. I can't walk. I have to use my phone's light to see so I can make my way back. I'm done. I just can't. This was the worst idea ever. Sigh. FUCK. I make it through 2 full days, going back to nap when I can, all the walking is too much. It's wearing me out, so much worse than I thought it would be. I just don' t have it in me to last the entire trip. I can't. I have to call it on day three, I'm disappointed in myself. I drive back home.

I have a follow up with the ENT 2. I want to stop taking the Nortriptyline as I'm not convinced it's Vestibular Migraine, and I really need a fucking drink at this point. You can't drink on Nortriptyline, and it's a bitch to get off of.

But moreover, I don't know if the vertigo being gone is from the medication or PT. I suspect the VRT PT. Besides since starting it, between my own searching and asking the physical therapist, I'm starting to suspect the BVH from a Neuritis (ongoing viral infection) in my inner ear. She tends to agree, they have been seeing that more and more, especially in younger people... Lingering viral infection, lines up with my symptoms, I had Covid late the year prior, and the "ear infection", and then the shingles. Too many coincidences to be coincidental. The timeline of events is WAY too close.

I speak with the ENT about this all. He still focuses on the nystagmus, which has since gone away, and deflects from the Neuritis, which is weird. Of all people whom specializes in inner ear infections and the such, and being the one that recommended the VNG. But such is the time we live in - it can't possibly be viral, that might mean we're not following up correctly with everything going on. The med is fine to stop, and if the vertigo comes back we know it was Vestibular Migraine. Come back when/if needed.

Spoiler alert - the vertigo doesn't come back full force, it's not Vestibular Migraine... Well least another thing ticked off. Lots of things ticked off, but not a lot to go on still. Fuck this, I'm starting to go back to my VRT. At least that was doing SOMETHING. My balance is still right around the same as it was in early Dec. So, still not great, but not worse. Yay, a small victory at least.

It's not NMO. At the neurologist, "Also, what about the fatigue? I'm super tired all the time. Like STUPID tired." This week I was back at the Strip for the yearly conventions, so doing the late dinners, drinks and all that as usual. "Maybe don't work so much." "Heh, right, but seriously, that's not possible." So he prescribes a MS fatigue medication, Amantadine. Cool, I don't have MS, but... ok, I'll just hold onto that for now, not starting that just yet. Referral received, and follow up for end of the year.

Enter Neurologist 2. This lady is great, spends around 2 hours with us. She's not convinced it's MS either. But the MRI is super low quality and she wants better images. Give her the entire story. Answers any ancillary questions we have. She mentions "You definitely have something going on in the sinus, ear, throat area, like maybe a Vestibular Neuritis, which damaged your balance." Hm, you don't say? "But let's get you more images, and you can come back."

Still doing my VRT, but I think now I've hit a plateau with my balance, so we're working on strengthening for tactical feedback so I can at least not fall, maybe eventually not use the cane.

VNG test number 2 as recommended by my PT, so we can see if anything has changed. Yep, definitely still BVH, and so far this is my ONLY actual 100% positive diagnosis. This year my total caloric eye speed has bumped up all the way to a whopping 9. Still shit, but upwards is a positive right? So how do you fix this? "You can't, if it's gone, it's gone. No getting it back, just learning to deal with it. But you should look up Neural Circuit Dizzyness." Yea, remember how I thought my brain was short circuiting from the loss of my vestibular working? Yea, cool. I get more dizzy when I am fatigued, so that tracks.

Cue two months later, back at the Neurologist 2. Definitely, probably NOT MS. "But let's monitor it yearly via MRIs for both your syrinxes and white matter lesions just in case, now that we know they are there. You should also find a new ENT." Know any GOOD ones in Vegas? "Yea... not so much. Maybe Mayo in AZ or UCLA in LA, but not many good or even decent ones in Vegas." Yea, I know that for sure, no one here specializes in BVH as ENTs. She gives me Meclizine to have on hand just in case I get more dizzy than normal for travel, and said the Amantadine might help, and try it out for a couple weeks.

Now - I'm at a point, I am sick of getting poked, prodded, jabbed, and all that. I'll follow up on follow ups and just for now focus on more VRT, bumping up the sessions per week, and see where we are at in a few months, maybe just finish out the year. I'm still fatigued all the damn time and debating starting the Amantadine. Balance is still crap when my eyes are closed, but now the vertigo only comes very rarely. Usually only when I'm beyond stupid tired, or overly exercised, and only for a few seconds at a time.

Still more to come, and a stupid, stupid long road ahead... to quote Monty Python: "I'm not dead yet!"

More background FYI - BVH affects only a very significantly small amount of people, I have read between .3-3% of the population. The higher number are ones who have this in addition to other related issues (such as BPPV or MS), and the smaller is having this without other conditions (related or not). The later, smaller percentage, appears to be my case - unrelated to anything else and its cause appears to be idiopathic (unknown or unknowable) for the time being.

For more info: https://vestibular.org/article/diagnosis-treatment/types-of-vestibular-disorders/bilateral-vestibular-hypofunction/

[wlwanakin]

since you said to be more specific if i wanted to know more then can you talk abt what youve mapped out of grells and madams relationship? redcliff is my otp so i would love to hear what you think of the red murder wives

ok so!! my biggest thing w them is that to me they are just. horrible for each other. they are soulmates they are tied together by the red string of fate but god is it unhealthy. like if u build a relationship off of brutally murdering ppl ur not gonna have a healthy dynamic i’m sawrry (ESPECIALLY when it ends with murder. u don’t kill ur gf that casually if ur relationship is healthy). there’s so little content of them but the bits we see seem pretty tumultuous (i base a lot off that one rainbow butler one shot bc that shit was so gay but sooo toxic it’s scrumptious) so i just run with it! they’re both very mentally ill and homicidal that shit was doomed from the start

the whole relationship like a slow build from their first meeting bc anne is immediately like Live With Me and they’re inexplicably drawn to each other (read: horny) but it’s a slow evolution from yearning and going marginally insane and probably like drunk making out they refuse to talk abt after to insane love confessions and kinda just running with the idea that they’re basically married. and the whole time it’s just a constant flux between desperately needing each other always and divorce worthy fighting. so much divorce worthy fighting.

grell falls HARD like really fucking hard like despite being the world’s worst gf she’s also more invested. she has insane tunnel vision for anne like she abandoned her whole life for her so ofc she does!! it’s a genuine obsession and it’s so unhealthy and she’s desperately needy and anytime it feels like it may be crumbling she goes hard on trying to sabotage bc she will not leave until the bridge is burnt to fucking ASH (she’s also insanely impulsive abt it like the minute she regains common sense she’s just like “why did i do that” and then wants to rekill herself so bad).

anne is very very infatuated but she’s kind of the normaler party in the sense that she can have a life outside of grell (and grell does not like that). she’s a workaholic abt the murder and also about the Being An Aunt and she’s having a crisis of morality at all times and this makes her very preoccupied but also lowkey without grell she’d kill herself. grell is like her key to being able to live with herself morally it’s like. “no one will love me with how horrible i’m being but this bitch not only loves me but also condones my atrocities!! if she leaves me i’m blowing up the world.” but the thing is she’s confident enough that grell Won’t leave her to not be as invested in her. and she’s also not afraid to be a frigid bitch when she’s pissed at her and can be so extremely hot and cold about everything it’s absolutely insanity inducing.

they’re stuck in this insane loop of being madly in love, anne kinda zoning out of everything and getting cold, grell vying for attention via acting out or manipulation or cheating or something, Big Fight, and then back to being madly in love and they NEVER WANNA STOP bc they understand each other so deeply and fundamentally in a way no one else ever will!! they enable the worst parts of each other and they feel so safe with each other. they’re each other’s home but god that home is the worst place you’ve ever stepped foot in.

there’s also an internalized homophobia layer going on for sure that definitely does not help things. esp bc anne was probably grell’s bi awakening. i always write madam red as a lesbian who has already unpacked that and dealt with it so while she has like. period typical internalized homophobia it’s way less of a Thing for her. but for grell it’s just like Oh God What Is Happening Why Do I Want To Live In Her Skin What Are The Gender Implications Of This I Am Having A Bad Time!! so like the double whammy of a full blown sexuality crisis and first time doing commitment r driving her a little insane the whole time.

it also makes grell nerfing anne a lot less random in my brain. she just snapped in that moment and it was a 2.5 year buildup of frustration that she just let loose bc she felt like she was being rejected and like all her fears of abandonment were being confirmed and she kinda just lost it. i don’t even think she fully gets why she did it tbh it kinda just happened and she ran with it and processed it all two hours later and was like “oh shit i’m going to pretend that won’t make me wanna die forever” but it’s also just a response to a constant pattern of Fucking Everything Up So Bad Now, Kiss And Make Up Later except oopsies it was fatal this time!!!

basically when the relationship is good it’s perfect and idealistic and amazing in every way and when it’s bad it’s the worst fucking relationship you’ve ever seen. it’s a mess they’re a mess it’s so fun!!

[weedoccultadvice]

Contacting Your Galactic Instructor

As it tends to happen, time travelers often take the Time Travel 101 course before they... take the 101 course. And by that I mean that they experience a large degree of it ahead of time, in flashes, omens, or dreams. I can see recognition dawning across a few faces in the lecture hall now--good. You're getting it.

You've probably had a vision or two in your life that's come true. And you probably wonder where that's coming from, both when it happens and when it comes true. But just as often, and not nearly as often talked about, you probably hear the right word of advice on the street right when you're struggling with a difficult problem. Or you ask a friend a question and they just happen to know the right answer, obscure as it may be. Or when you are desperately searching for an answer on something, suddenly the tip that makes you put it all together in your head shows up in song lyrics, of all places.

This is one of the ways your teacher helps you. And since you're a time traveler, you're going to start 'awakening' early, doing time travel before you learn it in the 'proper order,' because no time traveler does anything in the proper order. Not once they really get going. So your teacher, necessarily, will not do things in the order you will expect, and will show up in places and people you would never dream of... yet, but soon you will.

Now, your teacher will not be me. That wouldn't be a properly nonlinear way for you to learn time travel. Instead, your Galactic Instructor will be teaching to you from across time, through means most occult and bizarre. You will hear their voice in the songs on the radio, in the news on TV, in conversation at the bar. You will hear it when you need it, and sometimes even when you don't. Your Galactic Instructor will not necessarily always be the same person, as it is a difficult position to fill, in a field where there is still much flux in the industry. Whoever your Galactic Instructor is, they will be committed to helping you learn the course you've applied yourself to.

There is no special number to dial on the phone, no secret email address or spoken codephrase that proves "you're in." You will know how to contact your Galactic Instructor because they will arrange to make sure you know. It will always be what you are paying attention to at the time, so it could be a dream, or a comic, or a billboard with a celebrity on it. It could be real words you hear spoken, or a snatch of vocabulary that skates through your imagination right after you ask a question.

Your Galactic Instructor is not guaranteed to be your soulmate. Not that we have anything against that sort of thing, it just isn't another phrase for a Twin Flame, Soulbond, soulmate, soul twin, fairy lover, fetch, Holy Guardian Angel, demon, or some type of religious figure. All of those things have their own context separate from this, and if you want to weigh whether they are part of it, you can make that personal judgment yourself. No one else can tell you that answer, it's your own to form.

A Galactic Instructor is just another time traveler who is helping you figure out what you're doing and how to do it. If anything else happens between you along the way that's your business. For instance, if it turns out your Galactic Instructor is also an ancestor spirit of yours, that'll be something of your own to investigate, and a part of your own mystery. No one besides you can decide what that means to you.

Ask a question, aloud or internally, and you'll typically hear an answer. Try to be patient--a Galactic Instructor can quit on you. A new one may show up, but they do talk to each other. It's not quite like deities with their prayers and such--Galactic Instructors are busy and typically have jobs to do in their own physical space somewhere else. They want to assist you but they're just as human--or otherwise--as you are. Give them patience, and remember to thank them, and you'll soon find yourself in the position to be someone else's Galactic Instructor yourself.

What follows is a brief list of ways to contact your Galactic Instructor. Use your imagination--if internally you ask: "can I do it this way?" then unless you're trying to do it with a nuclear fission reactor, the answer is always YES!

(If you are trying it with a nuclear fission reactor, that's a more advanced topic and we don't cover that one in the 101 class. Contact the Philosophy department for course options. Be prepared to teach what you already know.)

Ways your Galactic Instructor can reach and teach you:

Dreams - symbolism, narrative, or full visual manifestation.

Video games - Non-player characters and points of random interaction.

Social media - serendipitous posts on your dashboard.

Books - Grab the nearest book that catches your interest, flip to a random page, and see what answers it has for you.

Divination and scrying - tarot cards, playing cards, crystal balls, pendulums, etc. Try various means to see what your Instructor likes. Don't be surprised if they pick communication means that are entirely different than what you expect.

Voice-activated technology - Mishaps in your Echo/Google Home's 'hearing' or strange responses can be an indication that someone is trying to get your attention. Sometimes a voice-activated web search can net interesting results because it allows Instructors and other helpers to insert their own input while the message is in transfer.

Randomly glimpsed words - Usually on billboards, in advertising, etc. Google's search suggestions as you type are a great way of getting random text feedback.

Serendipitous conversation about exactly what you needed to learn - this can happen with people you know or don't know, and it's completely random in how it comes about. Basically, it's like your Instructor sends a very long series of post-it notes, and the person in front of you receives them and reads them off while you're conversing.

Animals and natural omens - When a crow bawks, it means something.

This is by no means an exhaustive list. Communication from your Instructor can sometimes be subtle, sometimes blatant. It depends on your relationship and where you are in your studies. Be aware, of course, that you may sometimes be someone's teacher too.

And remember to say thank you! Sometimes it's worth more than you think.

[jjungkooksthighs]

BTS BE ALBUM REVIEW

So, I have seen reviews on albums done before and I wanted to get my thoughts out somewhere. This little thing came into being because of that!

First off, I would definitely recommend BE for those who are struggling. It is a good source of comfort, for sure, if you are going through a rough time and I can understand how others would love this album as I have already seen. I think the boys put in work for this one and it definitely shows! I’m especially proud of Kook for his directing skills in the MV. It was very well done and I am so glad he seemed to have had a good time doing that as he stated in the Global Press Conference yesterday!

BE is a very interesting album in terms of the styles of the songs with three of the eight being retro-themed (Dynamite, Telepathy and Dis-ease) with the other three being slower and more melancholy (Life Goes On, Blue and Grey and Fly To My Room). Personally, I liked 7 better than this one, but that is just my opinion! I have seen lots of other people on Tumblr commenting their favorite songs off BE amongst other loving praises that I’ve come across and I think that is wonderful.

For me, though, I will say that Life Goes On definitely caught me off guard as I wasn’t expecting that style of song at all. Despite that, the fact that my bias directed this MV was something very unique that I really enjoyed seeing. If words would embody this song, I would choose succor’s solace as the epitome of this track. It is relief rolled into audio and it is such a gift to have a song like this in the hard times that we have been attacked with. It is soft yet firm in its tone and both balance each other very well to coalesce into a very comforting song. 

 This is certainly a song that you’d listen to on the way home from work after a long day or while you’re in the midst of studying, doing schoolwork or even at home working on assignments or tasks for your job. It is also something you’d listen to when you feel like the problems and struggles you face are just too much and need to be reminded that, per the song’s title, life continues on and that we must push forward to enjoy the little things and the big. I liked this track the most, I think. I myself am facing some things in my life right now and the core message of this song resonated deeply with me. To that end, this track is every bit the comfort song they intended it to be and this song, along with Spring Day, sit at the same table for breakfast, lunch and dinner!

Fly To My Room’s mellow beat is something that I think would be a great listen at night after the trials and woes of the day and it was interesting to see sope/vmin in the same track and how those two subunits meshed together to create something entirely new and unseen before.

Blue and Grey... this one sounded familiar to me and it took me all but two seconds to realize where I had heard it before. This is the same song that Taehyung teased in Bon Voyage when he was sitting in the canoe out on the lake. The song sounded so very different in this rendition and I was very surprised to see this song in the album when I had originally thought it would be in Tae’s mixtape! 

This is definitely a song you listen to in the rain and when the sun has been masked by the clouds in the sky. It is also a song you’d listen to once the sun has set and you walk outside just to have some fresh air and reminisce either about the past or to think on the stresses of your present. I think this track has the power to ease both and that is a powerful thing, indeed.

Telepathy I really liked! I think the upbeat form of this one definitely was a nice break from the slow beat of the first three songs on the album and, because this one is BTS’s love letter to ARMY, I think that is a very special thing that we as their fans should cherish in their thought towards us during the times that have befallen us and taken from us (and them) their ability to see us beyond a screen. I think the flow of the song is perfect and the flux of the voices of the members works very well for the positive energy they are trying to instill in it. From beginning of this song, when I heard it, I knew I was going to like it. It had a starry, celestial vibe to it and for some reason, when I hear it, I think of shooting stars that fly through the night sky. 

True to that image, this is a song you’d listen to when you’re with friends to recall the bonds you make with those closest to you (and those farthest from you) no matter where in the world they are. This is a song you’d also listen to to PARTY PARTY, YEAH! (I’m sorry, but ever since I heard that from Kook, it has been living in my mind rent free) In any case, this is a nice song to uplift you and would also be good to put on after a bad day so that you can look back on all the good things life despite the bad. That message is a very strong one, indeed, so that definitely makes this song a favorited one for me.

As an English major at my university, the title of Dis-ease was interesting as someone that often studies semantics and semiotics in language and literature. It was intriguing to see that they chose to deconstruct the word of disease and split it into its alternative form to convey an entirely new meaning from what one might assume the word means at first glance. While they could have chosen to name the song DISEASE, which is a word associated with sickness, illness or an ailing, afflicted health condition that most link with weakness and feebleness, BTS decided to utilize a play on words and use an older version of the word that now has two different meanings linked with it, I found it fascinating that they named the song what they did, for dis-ease was often used in the past to denote a lack of ease or absence of relief in an individual.

 It was only later that the word was changed once individuals started tagging health related conditions with actual infections or maladies when viruses and mental illnesses began to gain a name for themselves in the colonizing world. Ironically enough, the word dis-ease is now used by medical practitioners in healing environments for individuals that are on the road to eudemonia or betterment of themselves and the word is purposefully used to endow awareness of compromised health on a singular cause or root.

I don’t think I need to explain why that is significant in the scheme of the situation that our world has come to, but I shall say it anyway: this is meaningful in that BTS decides to fight back and combat the negativity that would threaten to swallow them (and those who listen and internalize the lyrics of the song for themselves and thusly feel the message they are trying to give to us) to instead grapple and wrestle with it by loudly bringing attention to it rather than allowing it to silently consume and germinate within them. This, for me, was very empowering to hear and is one of the many reasons why I appreciate this song in particular amongst the lyrics that target and attack the “diseases” that would try to take from us our wellbeing. The track is a battle cry to keep fighting and that, in it of itself, is a very powerful thing that strikes very deep within me. The bridge at the end with Kook and Jimin, by the way… literal EARGASM, MA’AM. Anyway, this is a song that you’d listen to in the morning to get yourself hype for the day. It is something you’d put on in the desire to boost your spirits if they are low and honestly could be listened to in any situation.

Lastly, we have Stay. This subunit of NamKookJin was certainly a pleasant surprise to me! Kook’s involvement in writing this track doesn’t go unnoticed in the emotion that is present in his voice (amongst Joon and Jin, of course), but there’s also something about this song that goes straight for the heartstrings in the pledge of continued loyalty that is subliminal in its subtlety. I adored this song and this track’s EDM style was a wonderful finale of the album in its summation that there are low points in life (as the first few tracks suggest) and that there are high points and life. I think that through this song, the three boys who sang in it were wonderful in their energy that was so vibrant.

 It was wonderful to hear the three of them meld together in a unit that also was unlike what we have heard before. I know the song must have meant a lot to the three of them because Joon is Kook’s role model as he has stated many times and to sing with one’s idol would certainly be a powerful thing, indeed. The fact that Jin was in it too much have had so much meaning for Kook since Jin is like a brother to him and took care of him (and honestly, he still does, let’s be real) when he was younger.

The song’s lyrics themselves reach out to the ARMY that Jungkook said the song was meant for in his, Joon’s and Jin’s efforts to remind us that, as their fans, they hope that we will always remain with them and that they know the times are going to change for the better. I enjoyed this song very much and it would definitely be a song you’d listen to be reminded of the love that BTS has for you and that despite everything, you will always have a place with them even if you feel lost in the world around you. I think a situation you’d put this on would be when you are need just that extra bit of confidence to get you through an anxiety inducing time whether it be a test for school or even a meeting for work.

With all of this in mind, my favorite songs are as follows: Dis-ease, Telepathy, Stay and Life Goes On. It is hard to pick a favorite among those four, but those were my most liked tracks for sure!

Overall, I think the album definitely is one meant to soothe the soul and the boys have succeeded in that without fail. It is clear that the boys worked hard on this and their efforts were not vain! This is an album that I think we all needed to close out a tough year and it took me some to get all my thoughts together, but now that I have listened to the whole album once again, I’m liking it more with each time I hear it. It is always amazing to me how BTS continues to do what no one else does: letting their genuine feelings shine through their music that inspires light in so many. I am proud of each and every one of them and they deserve some hard earned rest after their efforts!

[mercury-retrograde-concept]

Stray Kids IN - January 2021 tarot reading

At last I reach the maknae!

Disclaimer: This tarot reading is for entertainment purposes only. All speculation comes from my interpretation only.

Energy around the person: High Priestess

Events in the past influencing current energy: Nine of Swords

Near future (through January 2021): Two of Cups (Reversed)

What is this person focusing on?: Death (Reversed)

Clarifier card: Eight of Pentacles

Subconscious influences on this person?: Page of Cups

(Time for a reminder that the Death card doesn’t really signify actual death. It tends to symbolize the end of something, and what that is usually depends on the cards around it in multiple-card spreads like this.)

So. Not to link my recent reading for Hyunjin again, but I thought it was fascinating I pulled the High Priestess for the both of these two. In the exact same part of the spread, to boot! This is a major arcana card indicating intuition, sacred knowledge, the subconscious, and mysteries. While it seems as though Hyunjin is in touch with this side of himself after a bit of struggle, IN is still trying to find his way. This is not a knock on IN, by the way. Life is always in flux and we’re always learning lessons and growing from them. This appears to be a stage of growing pains for IN.

The spread seems to indicate this is something of a difficult period for IN. Fears and worries are much more prominent and harder to shake off. There are attempts to shake these feelings off, but these worries seem to come from a primal place. He’s stressing over things that matter deeply to him and, consequently, it’s much harder to quiet any negative self-talk that might be happening. 

This will probably continue for a little longer into the future due to Kingdom. Competitive reality shows are designed to bring out competition and worries in their contestants and - having been on one before - IN is well aware of this. He knows that this is a good opportunity, but he’s not looking forward to the inevitable tension. 

In fact, it’s possible that stressful memories of the past mean that it’s difficult to see hopes for the future. Kingdom will be challenging, but it’s not the Stray Kids competitive reality show. This won’t effect whether he has a chance to debut. Not to say that any potential fears aren’t valid. It’s just that muscle memory is a strong thing and humans are primed to want to avoid situations that seem like a repeat of something stressful from the past. His intuition is telling him that this is actually an opportunity for creative endeavors and to gain new fans, but right now he can’t fully internalize that idea. 

Okay... usually I pull clarifier cards while in the middle of making the outline that turns into a post. However after finishing that last paragraph I decided to pull two more clarifier cards to see if IN’s inner tension will subside.

Clarifier cards: The Sun (Reversed), Six of Wands (Reversed)

And the answer appears to be “maybe?” It will require IN to get in touch with the parts he enjoys about creativity again, while also creating a personal definition of success that’s internal rather than external. Interestingly, this is also something Bang Chan would benefit from doing.

And with that I wrap up with my check-in on how Stray Kids have been doing recently. 

[scaredandbored]

androids cannot act without premeditation

this ones for @datalaur , i hope it’s ok! it will be ooc, as i’ve only done one story with characters that aren’t mine before, but i did try! doing it as a data-centric one was a bit of a mistake, he’s v e r y difficult for an emotional wreck like me to get right lmao. i’m so sorry it took so long, i really am. not only did i have difficulty with the characterisation of data, i also decided to try and make it a small collection of shorts that tied up nicely at the end, which took me waaaay longer than i anticipated, i’m sorry! i hope it’s ok (it’s also a little rushed at the end because i was working on it for ages but nothing seemed right and i just wanted to get it done aaaaaa i’m sorry)

word count : 2’292 (and a whole lot of errors because the final draft was done on my ipad at two thirty am i’m so sorry lmao)

i) when he “short-circuited” (not literally)

It was a routine check on a peaceful outpost, there was no need for Data to accompany the away team while he still had responsibilities aboard the ship, and when he had voiced this opinion to Riker, the first officer had agreed. Geordie had rested his hand briefly on Data’s shoulder as he gave his hurried goodbye before dashing off to transporter room 3 with Riker, Barclay, and an engineer from the outpost that had beamed aboard to explain the situation on the ground. Data was surprised when the loss of the heat from Geordie’s hand sent a slight chill through his system, the same way it did when the environmental controls in his quarters malfunctioned.

Shaking his head lightly, he ran a quick diagnostic on himself while he made his way to Engineering, a diagnostic that came up clear, which was puzzling. Data made a note to discuss the irregularity in his thermal controls upon Geordie’s return to the Enterprise. While monitoring the repairs being made to the dilithium chamber from the last skirmish the ship had engaged in, Data began to plan an evening meal with Geordie. Knowing his friend would likely be tired from an extended shift away with no access to his painkilling hyposprays, a low light intensity level was absolutely necessary, especially since Geordie seemed reluctant to remove his VISOR in the presence of his friends, including Data, for reasons the android could not fathom. Of course, Data would have to retrieve Geordie’s hyposprays from his quarters if the meal as to commence immediately after Geordie’s work planetside was complete, and if he would not take off the VISOR, perhaps some of his preferred scented oils would alleviate some of the tension headaches he preferred not to discuss, again, even with Data, once more for reasons unbeknown to Data.

The repairs were running smoothly enough for Data to feel secure in leaving them to run unattended while he carried out some basic structural repairs in the Jefferies Tubes, when the captain’s voice came barking out of his comm badge.

“Commander Data to the bridge, immediately.”

“Acknowledged, captain. I am on my way.”

As he made his way briskly down the corridor to the turbolift that would take him to the bridge, Data ran a list of the most statistically likely scenarios that would require his presence on the bridge. It would, of course, depend hugely on wether the captain required him at the navigation console or the science console, but based on the fact they were not due to leave orbit for another few days, Data concluded the scenarios requiring he be monitoring the various scans and probes while making various calculations (most probably pertaining to time restrictions enforced by a radioactive leak or electromagnetic flux of some sort) were most probable.

What he was not expecting, was to be completely blindsided by the tense order from Captain Picard, delivered without the man turning away from the view screen.

“Mr.Data, I need you to send a probe to scan for any signs of life on the outpost.”

It took Data a few seconds to process the order as his neural processors struggled with the implications of it.

He terminated the program which formulated various potential outcomes of his actions on the bridge, along with the one that had kicked in long before his motor functions had responded to the captain’s order, the one that was calculating the likelihood of Geordie’s survival.

While launching the probes, Data took a careful look at the sensor logs which detailed what had befallen the away team.

The details of the collapse of the cavernous system that made up the outpost.

The cave-in which had trapped Geordie and hidden him from the ships sensors, hidden his vital sign from the crew.

The earthquake that had made it impossible for Data to ascertain whether or not his best friend was alive.

It did not occur to Data until the away team was beamed back to the enterprise unscathed that he hadn’t spared a thought for Riker or Barclay, both men he would have considered to be his friends also. An intriguing matter, one Data wanted to look into before bringing it up with Geordie.

ii) when he acted without thinking (more than once)

Data had extensive experience in the science field, so when the majority of the science department were beamed planetside by a species of unknown intentions, it only made sense that Data be assigned to the ecological research team that were to beam down and learn all they could about the planet while a smaller away team attempted to retrieve the science department. Data could not see why Geordie insisted on beaming down, as he had neither experience with ecological research nor extensive search and rescue training, but Geordie insisted nonetheless.

Data’s memory banks suddenly assaulted him with images of Geordie in sick bay, in various states of physical and mental stability after away missions gone wrong while Data had been unable to assist him. Before he could stop himself, he found himself making a proposal for Geordie to join the research team, highlighting the importance of having someone well versed in physics while exploring the surface of the planet so that variables such as atmospheric pressure and wind patterns may be accounted for as much as possible while making notes on the planet’s ecology.

His lengthy explanation was cut off by the familiar pressure and warmth of Geordie’s hand patting his shoulder before settling just at the junction between his shoulder and neck, the warmth from the palm of his hand seeping into his circuitry and spreading a pleasant sensation throughout his body. “I’ll join your team, Data, no need to try and convince me.” His friend’s smile jolted another wave of warmth round his circuits, and while Geordie listened to Commander Riker’s plan for the retrieval of the scientists, Data ran another diagnostic on his thermal regulators, and one on his memory recall systems, only for them to show no signs of malfunction. “Hey, where are you, Data?” Geordie’s voice snapped him out of his reverie, wherein he had just begun to compare his responses to stimuli provided by Geordie to stimuli from his other friends, theorising perhaps it was the nature of his relationship with the chief engineer that was the cause of these flushes.

“I am in the briefing room, along with the rest of the crew who are due to be transported planetside.” Was his response to Geordie’s inquiry, but his friend’s bemused smile and good-natured laugh told Data the question had not been literal long before Geordie mentioned it being another one of those ‘figures of speech’ Data just couldn’t seem to get the hang of. He made a mental note to ask Geordie to assist him in further research into the use of such colloquialisms.

Geordie had removed his hand while they made their way to the transporters, resulting in a chill running through his sensory systems. Data filed the sensation away to run in comparison to his responses to similar withdrawals of stimuli from his other friends. 

O’Brien engaged in some tense small talk with the two away teams, reminding them they would need their tricorders operating at full capacity in order to boost their signals in the event of an abduction similar to the science crew’s. 

Data acknowledged O’Brien’s cautions with a fractional incline of his head, fiddling with a tricorder he, oddly, couldn’t remember picking up.

“Hey, Data, I know how to calibrate my own tricorder.” Geordie did not look angry; if Data had to guess, he would’ve said the look on Geordie’s face was amusement. Data blinked once, then looked down at his own tricorder, hanging from his hip. Looking back at the tricorder in his hands, he began to run yet another diagnostic on his memory banks.

“My apologies, Geordie.” He handed back the tricorder, a slight frown tugging at his mouth. “I...” He paused for a moment, paying particularly close attention to the result of his internal scan. All clear. “I did not think before acting.”

Geordie shook his head, but his smile never faltered. “That’s not like you, Data.” He clapped his friend’s upper arm briefly before hopping onto the transporter pad. “Thanks anyway.” His smile widened before he nodded at O’Brien and was beamed down.

Data decided he would have Geordie take an objective look at his circuitry later that evening.

iii) when he risked violating the prime directive

It had been two hours since the entrance to the cave had collapsed, trapping Geordie inside, alone. He had lost all communications with the rest of the away team, the Enterprise’s scanners were unable to penetrate the strange, rock-like substance the surface of the planet seemed to be covered in. 

Data and the rest of the small away team had been in disguise as the native species while they attempted to take some samples of the very rock that had condemned Geordie to his confinement. Data had attempted to convey the situation to the nearest village, but was unsuccessful, considering they had not yet developed an effective means of communication, making it impossible for Data to secure their assistance.

He had initially disregarded the option of using his phaser to burn a hole in through the dirt surrounding the cave-in to prevent further danger to Geordie as it would risk violating the prime directive. He had established almost immediately prior to his first encounter with Geordie that under no circumstances could he die while Data had the capability to prevent that outcome. Data’s neural pathways lit up with a continuous, almost painful feedback loop as he was confronted with this paradox.

The prime directive must not be violated. To rescue Geordie, one must violate the prime directive. Geordie must be saved.

He had not noticed Riker taking his phaser from his hand, he had not noticed him giving an order for transport, he had not yet worked his way through the paradox.

He could just about make out the transporter room fizzling into his view before the pain pulsed through his entire body before he shut down, unable to solve the problem.

....

When he was reactivated, Data felt the familiar warm sensation throughout his entire mainframe a few milliseconds before he registered Geordie’s hands frantically darting around his head, where he could tell his access terminals were wide open and under intense scrutiny by his friend. “I seem to have returned to an operable state, Geordie. How long were was it before the Enterprise could retrieve you?”

“Data!” Geordie’s exclamation of his name should have left Data confused as to why his friend had not answered his question, but instead, the relief he could hear in Geordie’s voice was... almost comforting. The thought puzzled Data. How could he be comforted if he had experienced no upset?

Mirroring Geordie’s hand on his shoulder, Data accidentally applied more pressure than anticipated on the engineer’s shoulder, and before he knew it, the android found himself completely engulfed by Geordie, his system flushed almost scalding hot, and his arms moved up to press Geordie closer, closer, until his friend started to mutter something about not being able to breathe properly. Data attempted to relinquish his hold on Geordie entirely, but Geordie kept his arms firmly around him as he sighed, “We thought we’d lost you, Data.”

“And I thought I had lost you, Geordie.” Data frowned. He had, once again, acted without thought. He had meant the words, but he had not processed them before delivering them. “Geordie, I have been experiencing-“

When Geordie drew back from their embrace, frowning and reaching for his scanner, a constant stream of questions for Data regarding his recent malfunctions, Data felt... bereft. Cold. The lack of contact with Geordie had returned his systems to their usual, less comforting temperature, and the worry in Geordie’s posture and words had chilled Data. It made sense, therefore, to initiate further contact with the human.

Data wrapped his arms around Geordie, clutching his hands together just below his diaphragm, and rested his chin on his shoulder, watching closely as the engineer’s hands fumbled with the familiar scanner before coming to a halt. “Data?” Geordie sounded even more tense, which did not make sense. The lack of physical contact between Data and Geordie had seemed to distress them both, particularly in this encounter, and Data had thought that by initiating a more intimate contact would result in a positive reaction from both of them.

He decided to make one suggestion before he withdrew completely, worried if he removed contact with Geordie without warning it might upset the human further. “Geordie, would you consent to being kissed by me?”

When his question was met by silence, Data moved to extract himself from Geordie’s quarters, but the well-known sense of warmth flooded him as Geordie grabbed him by the crook of his elbow and applied pressure intended to turn Data around to face him. He complied.

When Geordie’s lips connected with his, the sensations were something similar yet different to that provided by the other forms of contact they had experienced together.

And unlike his recent Geordie-related-malfunctions, Data found himself perfectly within his faculties, able to position his hands with purpose- one at the base of the back of Geordie’s neck in order to hold him close, and one runnng up and down his arm, which seemed to cause Geordie to relax into him. The warm sensations from Geordie’s much more mobile hands complimented the fizzing sensation caused from the new calculations Data had begun: formulating the ideal combined angles of their heads, how much force to use when backing Geordie against the wall in order to better maximise their contact...

Geordie was just glad he had brought Data back to his quarters for repairs instead of Engineering.

[dearmrsawyer]

In a ATLA au, which element would each 1D guy bend?

Hi anon!! You sent this a little while ago and i’ve been thinking about it this WHOLE time. Atla is a new experience for me so thinking about bending is also a new experience! I initially found this really difficult, but i have spent the last couple of weeks thinking very deeply about each type of bending, their strengths, and the personal skills needed to master them.

As with all things, this is based on my perceptions of 1D/their public selves and possibly not their inner selves!

Niall: AIR. As with almost everything, i truly found Niall the MOST DIFFICULT TO PLACE. The thing with Niall is i find he always embodies conflicting qualities, and sometimes it seems like Niall becomes whoever can serve him most in the moment. I feel like he is often molded by his surroundings/company a little, e.g. how he always reconfigures to complement whichever other 1D member he’s paired with for interviews. I toyed with Earth and Water but what finally settled my mind was the way Niall absolutely flourishes with touring. I think Niall, out of all of them, has given the least indication of how tiring touring can be. Even though most members of the band are very vocal that touring is the best part, Niall really seems like the one who revels in it most. Harry seems to bring practices with him that keep him centred, and Louis brings pieces of home (e.g. his friends, Yorkshire tea), but Niall doesn’t seem as dependent on these elements. It’s the tour and tour alone that sees him through. Airbending is super intangible and untethered, it’s all about motion. The second 1D went on break he went backpacking for three months. The second touring is over he’s in the studio, couldn’t take a day off if his life depended on it. Even now, isolated in his home, he’s anything but still. On the other hand, meditation is a key practice of airbenders, and like Liam said, “once he’s got an instrument in his hands, none of us stand a chance.”

Louis: FIRE. The second i saw your ask this was my gut instinct, but i felt like this was maybe a superficial choice! The easy option! I didn’t want to be so obvious, i wanted to think this through more seriously. But as fate would have it, all my serious thought had led me right back here LOL. Firebending is different from the others in that the element you’re using is yourself/your own heat. The power comes from within, and so is independent of your surroundings and completely dependent on your internal balance. Louis has imo always been the most emotionally balanced member of the band. He’s extremely self-reliant, resilient in his circumstances because of his inner strength. He isn’t dependent on outside sources for his internal stability, just like a firebender isn’t dependent on their environment. Firebending is also super straight forward and direct, its not about the flourishes you know? There is style to it, but its the most ‘what you see is what you get’ of all the bending types, which imo reflects Louis’ eternal endeavour for honesty and authenticity. 

Liam: EARTH. Also my gut feeling, also the conclusion i returned to after more thought! Earthbending is supposed to be about, stability, right? It’s all about strength and (in most cases) the ground beneath your feet. Earthbenders mostly orient themselves by having their feet firmly planted on the ground. Liam has said in the past that he thrives on routine and habit. He seems to do best when his life is stable, e.g. when he’s in a relationship or focused on goals of self-development/improvement. Not so much when he’s experimenting with his self, or being directed by others. I think the way Liam seems to do best in the most stable periods of his life are reflective of the way earthbenders need to be aware of their environment. They depend on their senses to feel what the world around them/under their feet looks like, they need to know it. I get the sense Liam really needs to know what the world beneath his feet looks like. Liam doesn’t do best in a state of flux, and neither does an earthbender. 

Harry: WATER. Mr Styles on the other hand!! It took a little while for me to settle on Harry, but Harry seems to live/thrive in a constant state of flux. He does love a routine but he also loves putting himself in relatively uncomfortable circumstances for the sake of growth/change/experimentation (out of which he always seems to emerge a clearer version of himself), and waterbending is all about adaptability and fluidity. I think waterbenders, more than anyone, need to get creative with their bending. And i think Harry is quite good at MacGyver’ing his way through the circumstances in which he finds himself. Whether that’s by sleeping in the ocean during filming, finding an entirely new circle of people to help him find his solo voice, trying new things with fashion, or soaring 600 feet above the ground with ten minutes notice. There were Air qualities that did work for Harry, and even in writing this i have doubted my final decision a couple of times, but in the end i decided Water suited him best. 

Zayn: AIR. Zayn was the hardest to pin, after Niall. I feel like Zayn is air for all the reasons Niall isn’t. Airbending is all about being on the defense, evading offense, which is i think how Zayn has had to play it for much of his life in the public eye. If he’s been faced with a situation he doesn’t want he just gets himself right out of there! Freedom is something Zayn went without for a very long time, and in his post-1D life is probably the most important thing to him. And i think he’s doing everything he can to maintain it! Judging by how he handles himself as an artist, if he’s not comfortable performing or promoting then he won’t make himself do it, and he won’t live under the thumb of anyone who tries to make him. Air is the element of freedom and that’s the thing he’s had to develop. 

This was really fun anon thank you!! And i definitely welcome any counter arguments

[sugaxjpg]

04 | blank check; m

⤷ “Let me get this right, okay? You threw my name in as your fake girlfriend because you needed to prove yourself to your empty-headed friends, and now you need to fix it. Still,” you paused, raising your eyebrows, “your way of fixing is not to disclose it as a lie, but to cover it up with an even bigger and riskier one. Is that correct?”

⤷ PART 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | Co-written with @pantaemonium

✓ Couple: Jungkook x Reader | Fuckboy!AU & FakeDating!AU

✓ Filed under: smut, tragic comebacks

✓ Words: 6,892

Author’s Note: And here it is... whatever this is. Laura and I are sorry. Also, Part 5 will be a bit longer than the ones we have put out so far, so pls be patient!! It’ll come :,) 

Your debate class had its intense, hair-pulling moments in the past — from the dichotomy of the current political climate to philosophical dialogues about Descartes’ universal doubt — but, every once in a while, even your professor would get stressed at the constant bickering of his top 10 students and, instead, would chose a dumb theme that the class could find some sort of humor in. After some time, even that showed itself to be an obstacle, since most of your classmates had their head so far up their own ass that they forgot what the sun looked like, even less what it was to have a chill, borderline comical, conversation with another human being.  

And that was where you and Namjoon came in.

If you were to be completely honest, you could say without a shadow of a doubt that the two had a constant veil of bitterness floating between you. What could you do? Both of you were a bit more competitive than you should be, and the prospect of academic validation was far too tempting for you two to just let it slide. But, damn. If Dante Alighieri had the misfortune of meeting Kim Namjoon throughout his life, you were absolutely sure he would have added the man somewhere amongst his circles of inferno — because, Jesus Christ, was he a pain in the ass when he took things to his personal side.

“In synthesis, professor, I must conclude,” Namjoon started, leaning against the tall surface of his table. The copy of the discussed book was placed before him, and you could see that he had highlighted — and color-coded — at least half of it. “Bella Swan should have picked Jacob instead of Edward. The amount of danger she faced was ridiculous, and perfectly avoidable if she had chosen the one that was always there for her and, quite frankly, much more attractive.”

Subtle. Always so subtle.

With his feet over a nearby desk, your professor hummed, and used his cup of coffee to hide the smirk that creeped up on his lips. From your peripheral vision, you could see the other students exchanging animated glances, waiting for your turn to defend Team Edward. “Alright. Very good, Kim,” he praised, then turned to you. His mop-like moustache was stained by the brown coffee, and it looked more disgusting than it should. “What do you have for us, defense?”

You pushed your shoulders back and, without a missed beat, spoke your truth. “I disagree with Namjoon’s conclusion, professor. Edward Cullen cared about Bella Swan much more than Jacob ever did. He was only angry because he was thrown into the friendzone, and did not get his desires fulfilled by his best friend.” Your eyes darted towards Namjoon as you verbalized those words, wishing you were just as subtle as he had been — that is, not at all. “Edward protected Bella since the start, was patient, and didn’t force anything on her. With all due respect, professor.” You turned back to the class. “Jacob had no free-pass to Bella’s black lacy underwear just because he had been there for longer.”

“That’s irrelevant to this debate, come on!” Namjoon defended himself, blushing from the tip of his ears to — not that you had been looking before — the place where his tan skin disappeared under his shirt. The buttons opened, that would’ve gotten him a warning in high school—but in college it was the average cool dude uniform.  “Jacob was not as simple-minded as he’s thought to be. He may be a werewolf but he’s not stupid—”

“Well, I have to disagree. As you may have read — and I’m sure my opponent highlighted this part too—, in the fourth book of the saga Jacob imprinted Edward and Bella’s new-born baby, under the justification that, and I quote, everything he was—snip, snip, snip—floated up into space when he met the baby’s eyes, which are coincidentally very similar to Bella’s who happened to be at the moment, dead.”

“It is explained within the Twilight universe that werewolves often link themselves to their partners for life.” Namjoon barked back, although there was no confidence left within him when he opened the book, and started looking through his notes, wondering how he could’ve left the imprinting-the-baby topic out. What a mess.

Poor Namjoon had surely been very busy dreaming of your black underwear to finish preparing the debate and that, good for you, meant you had won — for once.

“My shaking jerked to a stop; heat flooded through me, stronger than before, but it was a new kind of heat — not a burning,” you read, trying to occult behind the pages the wicked smile invading your features. At the back of the classroom, your classmates started laughing enough for Mr. Moustache to turn around and shush them. Namjoon was paralysed. His projection into the Jacob’s character was not as funny anymore. “Around five minutes before he falls in love with the half-vampire parasite, he’s hugging Bella’s flailing body, forbidding her from dying. He’s not what I call… consistent with his feelings.”

Namjoon opened his mouth to talk, but all of the present souls knew that his chances of coming back from that annihilation were practically zero. With a smile and a resonating laugh, Professor Pornstache turned around to the class. “Alright, children of the corn, you all know how it goes,” he started. You had no idea how he hadn’t noticed the soaked mess that his upper lip had turned into, but that’s what botox injections can do to your overall sensibility, after all. “Write on a piece of paper who you think won, and then let’s do this as democratically as we can — even if we all know that the final word is mine.”

You rolled your eyes at your professor’s attempt at being Cool With the Kids. Mussolini over there — Mustachelini? Nah — constantly tried to sneak in references of popular movies into his every sentence, which explained his constant obsession with reviewing young adult novels. Next one up, according to him, would be something from Cassandra Clare, and you really didn’t think you’d be able to endure another painfully awkward love triangle discussion, even less the hidden incest.

With a few chuckles and guilty gazes crossing, the classroom was quick to pass the papers off to the front row, where the teacher’s personal pet — Jisoo? Achoo? Bless you — could organize and count the votes. You were lucky she was great at her job, for it took her less than five dragged-out, silence-filled minutes to have an answer.

With a grin that seemed to come out straight from a Monopoly live-action movie, your professor looked down at the winner’s name. “Oh, look at that,” he said. “Seems like we have a new name to pay attention to. Namjoon…” he dragged out his speech in a way that you swore the air had been sucked out of your lungs. Next to you, the boy leaned forwards, chest filled up with pride. “Better luck next time, kid. Y/N got the trophy. That’s ten points to gryffindor, and a nine for Team Edwards.”

With the weight of defeat dragging his shoulders down, Namjoon retreated to the back of the classroom, where the bad boys — you almost cringed thinking of him as one of those — sat and gnawed gum loudly trying to make the world believe their attitude would get there somewhere in life except, perhaps, jail. He plopped onto his chair, and let out a defeated sigh. If he couldn’t win a Twilight debate that meant his career was over, his reputation on the floor. It was a tragic defeat, one he had never expected.

Part of him, you thought, should be happy that it had been you the one to conquer the first place. It could have been someone else, like the guy from second row who carried an anime figurine around and ate his boogers when he thought no one was watching; or maybe, the resident weed-lover, who would probably rant for five minutes about the necessity to legalize marijuana, and avoid altogether the mundane problems of two-hundred year old bloodsucker hottie number 1; and very white, very anodyne Bella Swan.

“So, tell me, what kept you so busy that you couldn’t finish the assigned reading?” You questioned, rubbing — as they would say — salt over his overabundance of pride wounds. It was petty, but it was the funniest part of defeating the smarty-pants in the room. “Anything on your mind? Do you need a pep-talk? My therapist’s number, perhaps?”

Namjoon crossed his arms over his desk and laid his head over them, hoping the earth could just open up and swallow him alive. It crossed his mind that Jungkook probably didn’t even know which elements that are inside the Earth’s core — nickel and iron, for the ones wondering — even less which layer was liquid: internal or external. Maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe you wanted someone that was more than brains, or maybe you could be searching for someone so dumb that would make you feel more confident at your own IQ — yeah, that was probably it. You wouldn’t pick anyone but Namjoon if that wasn’t the case.

But he needed to control the flux of his thoughts before it got the best of him, and he made the mistake of being a little bit more honest than he should. What could he do? His pride was completely shattered — over a Twilight debate, for fuck’s sake — and he was struggling to seat down after the catastrophe that had been that pizza. Never underestimate the enemy. Never underestimate cheese left out to rot for too long.

And, most importantly, never underestimate Jeon Jungkook.

“So, Y/N,” he started, raising his head from the desk. Two other students had already moved to the front of the class to start their debate on the powers of some of the secondary vampire characters, but he didn’t care about it — that one, he could win it in his sleep —, for his eyes were completely glued to your own. “You ran away from us that night at the party. Care to say what happened between you and your misunderstood knight?”

And god bless your winner high for not making your face crack under the sudden question. Even if the image of Jungkook rubbing his cherry splitter came back in a hormonal rush throughout your body and mind, the smirk in your lips lingered, and your inner despair did not drip through your words. “Nothing happened, we are perfectly fine,” you lied. “In fact, he invited me to go to Jimin’s pool party next weekend. Hope you don’t mind my company.”

It was ephemeral, but you saw the way Namjoon’s eyes widened for an instant — he was a mortal man, with simple mortal needs. Seeing glimpses of your black underwear? That was nice. Seeing you in full bikini? That was a miracle, and Kim Namjoon wasn’t someone to disregard a message from the Lord.

He cleared his throat, and looked towards the front of the class, where the debate was starting to heat up. One of the students claimed that vampires having weather-controlling abilities made no sense, for it was Twilight, and not X-men. He had to agree with that one. “That’s… something to consider,” he spoke. It was getting hot there? It was either you or the intestinal cramps from that forsaken pizza — how many days would it take for it to leave his system? God. “Never thought of you as someone who enjoyed… the outdoors.”

“I’m not the sun’s biggest fan, that’s true,” you acknowledged, “but that’s what relationships are about, you know? Making sacrifices, spending time with your boyfriend’s friends. All that.”

Namjoon, once again, lost his space to speak. As his eyebrows twitched together in a sign of his disbelief — and a bit of jealousy, let’s be honest — and his plump lips parted in a silent exclamation, the screen of your phone lit up, a loud ding! ruptured the attention of the class. From the front row, Pornstache asked for you to turn the device off.

“Won’t you look at that,” Namjoon complained, watching your fingers as you quickly placed your phone on silent mode. “Edward Cullen is here to save the day.”

There was a tinge of agony in his voice, that you interpreted as a silent hope that he could someday become the one to disrupt the class to send you, perhaps, a corny I miss you, let’s meet at the library after class, or a more saucy — and god knows you hate that expression — I’d love to be in bed right now, doing you-know-what. Namjoon didn’t strike you to be one to send a I’ll fuck you raw against the wall only because he would understand the physical limitations that would come with such statement.

“Edward Cullen is just trying to know if I’ll be going to your match next week, I think,” you lied. The phone vibrated against the table, insistent. It was like having Jungkook behind your back, saying whatever nonsense he had come up with that same morning. “Don’t you have something useful to do? I don’t know, start reading Cassandra Clare’s failed incest fanfic attempts or something?”

“Nah, you know what? I’m going to the bathroom. That pizza is still kicking my intestines, and not in a good way.” He smiled, and it was dashing. “See you later.”

“When you finish pooping.”

“Yeah.”

With raised eyebrows and the ghost of a smile lingering on your lips, you watched as Namjoon made his walk of shame towards the front of a class, then quickened up his pace suddenly. If you could go back to the night of the party and tell him about the consequences of his ridiculously high cheese consumption, you wouldn’t. It was too funny to just let it pass.

Your entertainment, however, was short-lived. As soon as you turned your gaze back to the device on your hands and actually read through the previews of Jungkook’s messages, you could tell that something was wrong.

Jungkook’s only neuron: [incoming video]

Jungkook’s only neuron: SHRIIRSHIT

Jungkook’s only neuron: NO DONT OPEN THAT PLEASE DONT

Jungkook’s only neuron: THAT ISN’T FOR YOU BABY NO

Jungkook’s only neuron: IM SO SORRY OMHFGF NPONONOONO

Jungkook’s only neuron: i want to die please dont download the video please i will do anything i will buy you milkshakes for the entire week plea...

But it was too late: you knew Jungkook was terrible at finding compelling arguments, but that was just too much. He knew you were curious, and his overwhelmed texts only increased your sadism to prolong his suffering. Of course you were going to see whatever the hell he had sent you, and of course you would make sure to tease him for it until the end of time. It was what he deserved after dragging you for yet another acting gig.

So, you unlocked your phone, and went straight to his conversation. Nothing could have prepared you for what you were met with — but one thing was for certain: you were so happy that you had brought your earphones that day.

Curiosity started to carve a hole within your chest. It started as a mere tingle, just below your breastbone, when you plugged in your earphones and starting downloading the video. Had Jungkook been a bit smarter that day — or just more technology-conscious — he would have remembered there was an option to delete his video. It would erase it from the face of earth, and with it the shame it would bring along. It was useless now, because by the time he understood the power he had allowed to slip away you would have already saved the thing in your phone. For blackmail purposes only, of course.

With absolutely no expectations, you pressed play. The condemnatory piece of evidence Jungkook had sent by mistake started playing on your screen, a vastness of black pixels and an eventual flash of light. It must be something huge, for him to panic — while sober — on the chat-room. And huge it was, although at first the image was without form and void. Darkness invaded the screen, like there was a towel or a shirt placed in front of the camera, and the only remnants of light that managed to filter in were through holes in the cotton.

Maybe Jungkook had finally lost his mind, and he had recorded one of those confession videos with huge cards. You are perfect to me, could have been read in one of those, scribbled with a Sharpie in his terrible handwriting. But Jungkook was not the romantic type so that would not be the case, he had a reputation to hold — surprisingly, he had not destroyed it yet.

And so the dumbass said “let there be light”, and there was light — and the most horrendous pink tiles covering the bathroom floor. He appeared into focus, clad in grey sweatpants and a tee shirt that you recognized immediately as part of the training gear for the volleyball team.

“Oh, god,” you muttered to yourself, watching him seat cross-legged before the camera. You had watched enough porn in your life to, at least, sense where this was going, but you were not prepared. Not at all.

When the boy — Jungkook, it was fucking Jungkook and you knew it — moved backwards on the shot, the entire scene came into focus, presenting you with the image of what you presumed was his bathroom. You would recognize that pink abomination anywhere, even if, the last time you witnessed it, you had not payed attention to the disgusting fact that the tiles were also a pallid tinge of roseate; the same color of the heat that painted the boy’s cheeks, all the way to the tip of his ears.

The image was slightly blurred still, but you could tell that he was sitting on the floor, back pressed against a bathtub. Jungkook had moved down on the shot enough so you could see up to his nose, but his eyes were still out of frame. It didn’t matter: you knew it was him, and you could not stop looking at the way his swollen lips were parted, glistening with the thin layer of his saliva. From in between them, came the weak, shy sound of a moan, and his body shivered in expectation.

Before you could even take hold of your actions, your gaze was already shooting downwards, past the droplets of sweat on his tan neck, and the obnoxious colors of his team shirt — for fuck’s sake, he was clearly not the brightest of minds, but, if he wanted it to be a bit harder to figure it out who it was, he shouldn’t have worn that. Dumbass. The hottest fucking dumbass you’ve ever laid eyes upon. Not the point.

Then, you saw it, and your mind went blank. Jungkook had one of his veiny hands placed over his hard member, its outline vaguely visible through the thick fabric of his pants. And, shit, that wasn’t the only thick thing in sight. But anyways. He was caressing it slowly, up and down, then rolling his palm against it slowly, dragging out the whines that broke upon his lips. Through your earphones, you could hear the fragile inflections of his voice against your ear, and you swore you could feel his raggedy breath hitting your skin at every new exhale.

On the upper part of your screen, another message popped up: I can tell you’re online!!!! it practically yelled, reeking of desperation and pheromones. You ignored it. There were more interesting things happening. Bigger things.

Jungkook pressed his palm down on his cock one, twice, but soon grew impatient at the lack of sensibility it provided. You tapped on the video and saw that it was three minutes long, which told you just how much he was eager to get straight to the point; and, much to your inner satisfaction, your hypothesis was quickly proved.

Almost timidly — who would’ve thought Jeon Jungkook could be any shade of timid, for fuck’s sake — the tip of his cock was released from the constriction of the elastic. He had been dripping enough to wet the fabric, and it elicited a thousand questions amongst which the idea of Jungkook cumming in his pants, unable to stop himself was primordial and very much overwhelming.

With more tenderness you had ever imagined he would be capable of, he pressed his thumb against his crown, smearing his slick all around. It ripped a long-drawled groan out of his throat, as he threw his head back and against the bathtub. Sweat started to pool in hollow of his clavicle when he dared move again, hand encircling his length.

That was the moment you understood the situation was serious in more than one way because a) Mr Pornstache was still doing whatever he believed was teaching, b) Namjoon had just crossed the classroom threshold and was about to return to his place by your side; and c) your panties were wetter that the goddamn Nile and it was Jungkook’s doing.

Way to start the week.

Then again, miracles can present themselves every once in a while and, for you, it was the fast-thinking that suddenly overtook your senses. Even if every fiber of your being begged for you to do otherwise, your fingers were quick to pause the video, block your phone, and shove your earplugs inside your jacket’s pocket before Namjoon’s gaze even casted itself in your general direction. Usain Bolt who?

You cleared your throat — was it hot in there?  “There you are,” you whispered as he sat down next to you. Namjoon looked one shade whiter and many years older. “Had fun?”

He rolled his eyes. “What kind of question is that?” You did not know. You weren’t thinking straight. You could barely recall your name amongst the echoes of Jungkook’s moans inside your mind, and it was driving you insane. “Anyways,” he started, “did I miss something important? Any big arguments to take into consideration?”

“The biggest argument I’ve ever see— I mean no, nothing,” you were quick to correct yourself. Your heart was beating so fast inside your chest that you recalled every medical drama you’ve ever watched, the movement of the defibrillators and the anxious screams of the doctors — charge it to 200; to 500… There’s nothing else we can do, we lost her. Jungkook strikes again. “You know what? This reminds me, I should go to the bathroom as well— To do… to… take care of lady stuff.”

Taken aback by surprise, Namjoon leaned back against his chair and raised his eyebrows in expectation, trying to predict where that was heading towards. He was clearly doubtful of your actions, and Mr Mustachelini was far too enrolled in the superpower debate to care about the way you roughly moved to your feet, almost knocking the desk over as you did so. Thank the heavens above that you didn’t wear a skirt that day, because the situation in between your legs was reaching critical levels.

“Lady… stuff?” he repeated slowly. There it was: the man you learned to fear in debates and in the court, with those piercing pupils and the expression that told you that there was no use in lying, for he already knew the secrets that you hid underneath your tongue. “Did something happen?”

You laughed nervously. “Absolutely nothing happened,” you lied. He could tell. Somehow, he just could. “I just have to leave, it’s gonna be really quick just… okay, bye.”

Namjoon moves around very slowly. The commotion of your sudden leave had probably pressed a slow-mo button he could not turn off. It was like all his energy was being redirected towards his brain, aimed at the gears you could almost hear rumble. It was just a bathroom escapade, it wasn’t that deep. But Namjizz was keen on discovering the secrets you were not skilful enough to conceal — at least not with the image of Jungkook’s swollen dick in his pretty hands still engraved in your brain.

“Bye,” you repeated, waving him farewell. Still perplexed he muttered something along the lines of: are you sure everything is alright? That you never responded to. All you could picture was the girls’ bathroom at the end of the corridor, the cubicle at the far left — the one less transited.

You had some dignity left inside, so you didn’t run. Instead, you walked as fast as your legs allowed. In hindsight, it was a ridiculous image, but you could only feel the weight of your phone growing heavier in your pocket, the wires tangling like serpents as some sort of cosmic punishment for your unspeakable crimes. As if it wasn’t enough that you had fallen for the local cliché; that you had been tempted by the one character in the comic you had promised you would only treat with disdain and, perhaps, some well-founded superiory.

Jungkook was an overused trope, that was clear enough —  thanks brain for the painful reminder! — but fuck, did he make you wet with only a few seconds of his blurry, leaked sextape.

Despite the late hour, the bathroom was deserted. You had been hoping to find someone there, someone disagreeable and nasty who would kill your libido with just a look. Coco would’ve fit the role. But there was no one around, and the cleaning lady had just polished the tiles till they shone like diamonds.

Weren’t you the luckiest girl in the entire university, huh?

Giving it no more thought, you locked yourself inside the cubicle. Your phone vibrated again, this time in your hand.

Jungkook’s only neuron: please Y/N  i didn’t mean to send that to you. it was a mistake. come back and call me a pig BUT DO SOMETHING. THIS IS LIKE POKING A STONE WITH A STICK

Jungkook’s only neuron: if you didn’t see it as I BEGGED YOU TO PLEASE FORGET I EVEN SAID THAT

He continued to rant into the group chat, monologuing about the many reasons behind your silence. It was — truth be told — abnormal of you to skip a chance to roast him, but there were more important matters to attend to. With a quick swish of your finger you silenced him, and with it the guilt that could come.

In movements far too quick to be your own, you plugged in the earphones in your ear, checked that they were well connected to your device — the last thing you needed was to interrupt the chastic beauty of that recently-cleaned bathroom with Jungkook’s devilish moans — and moved back to the video. The recording started over, but you were quick to move back to the time stamp you had stopped in — 1:38, precisely and, yes, you had memorized.

Now, that was when your morning started to go downhill, because it was when you decided to, as you had mentioned before, defenestrate the rest of your pride, and do the dirty work. Kind of: you were a bit out of your senses, but not enough to finger the baby maker in the middle of a public bathroom, no matter how clean it was.

So, you settled for the second best.

As the video resumed, you noticed the wetness that had spread between your thighs, only increasing as those lust-filled images flashed before your gaze. There was something alluring about the idea of the Great Jeon Jungkook playing with himself, allowing for his hips to roll against his hand as temptation overtook his senses; his legs so weak that he could barely move in that gruesomely pink bathroom floor. He was edging himself, that you could tell from the continuous biting of his lower lip, and the quivering pants that left his mouth, and he was adoring every second of his self-inflicted torture.

Moans and curses poured from his chest like ambrosia, and your other hand was quick to undo the buttons of your pants. You could see him, eyebrows furrowed and eyes closed, as his parted lips groaned for release, his muscles clenching again and again; cock throbbing in his hands. Perhaps, in an instant of patience, he would rub himself through his underwear until he was hard enough, or maybe he would grind against his bed until he could no long take the pleasure that monopolized his carnal desires.

Not that you were far away from that fate.

Hastily, you placed your hand in the space between your jeans and your underwear, finding your clit instantly. Your fingers traced circles over your sensitive spot, but the numbed feeling was awfully frustrating to endure. Just like the fucking video before your eyes was; the rise and fall of Jungkook’s abdomen as he reached for his own orgasm; the teasing of his thumb against the top of his member; the weak, whimper-like moans that infested your mind like a damn egyptian plague. Everything about that situation was frustrating, and it was tearing you from the inside out.

As he so tenderly caressed his length, you wondered at the rubor that had conquered his neck, the toned expanse of his chest. Jeon Jungkook had lost the intimidating arrogance that seemed to envelope his entire being. There was no arrogance in the curve of his mouth when opened his mouth in a whimper that broke before it could be captured by the microphone of his phone. There was no pride in the way he tilted his head back, fingers tight around his cock as he fucked himself relentlessly.

Despite the lack of friction, the sole image of his muscles tensing as he approached his release was enough to have you trembling. The memento of his hands roaming your waist was clear in your mind when you pressed your clit just a bit harder, wishing it was him the one to tease you with the same cruelly he was teasing himself. The wonders his fingers could do, his tongue. As his moans became louder, your movements turned erratic, almost desperate. It threatened to break you, but you could not find reason within yourself to stop.

Still, Jungkook wouldn’t be Jungkook if he didn't find a way to ruin your fucking day.

The vibration of your phone in your hands made your heart jump inside your chest and, for an instant, you swore you had seen the light at the end of the tunnel, and the angels calling you to join them above. But no — it was the human-shaped devil named Jungkook and he was, quite literally, calling you.

With a stressed-out groan, you barely thought about your actions before sliding to answer his call, his previous moans being immediately replaced by static. “What the fuck do you want, Jungkook?”

From the other sound of the line, you heard a shuffle. “Oh great, you picked up,” he spoke. You couldn’t tell if his voice was permeated by annoyance or by relief and, quite honestly, you didn’t give a flying fuck — you had your hands pressed against the soaked mess that had become your panties in a public bathroom, and the last thing you needed was to psychologically characterize his timbre based upon the inflections of his tone. “We have to talk.”

Honestly? Fuck it. The guy had already ruined one rub-out session for you, and he wouldn’t do the same thing again; not when the only detail you could think about had been the ridiculously hot video he had sent you. “No we don’t,” you threw back, breathing growing sharp as you continued your motions — slower this time. “This is not the time, and you have nothing—” You paused, biting back a moan, then masking it as a cough. Okay, you certainly didn’t think that through. “You have nothing to justify.”

“You know I do.” He hesitated. “It’s about the video.”

“Of course it’s about the fucking video,” you interrupted, throwing your head back against the wall. You were starting to get close, and you knew it. “Are you narcissistic enough to jerk off to a video of you... jerking off? This is the weirdest case of inception I’ve ever seen.”

Jungkook paused on the other end. “Inception? But that has nothing to do with my family.”

Good god, have mercy on your soul. “Inception, Jungkook.” You groaned. “Not incest.”

“Not the point, smart ass,” he was quick to reply and — fuck Jungkook and his honey voice — you could have sworn he had almost stuttered. There was no way you could have known for sure, for your own mind was wandering elsewhere and you were barely containing the tremors of your own voice. “I really need to see you and explain, so tell me where to go and I’ll be there.”

“Jungkook,” you called, and your brain thought it was a great moment to bring the images you had been trying to avoid, of Jungkook in-between your legs licking your wetness away as you whimpered his name. At the end of the line there was only static to match your error, so you rapidly added. “There’s no need to explain. I really have no interest in seeing you beat your meat to whatever Arctic Monkeys song you chose as your sex jam, so I don’t really care about your reasons—”

“It’s very normal to do something like this, okay? Some guys do it all the time. I do it all the time to, you know, see how I perform and everything.” You had long lost track of his explanation. The murmur of his voice was just an echo at the back of your head, for you had never stopped pressing your fingers against your clit, trying to subdue the sweet pain threatening to take over. Your brain was overworked — and overwhelmed — and Jungkook blabbing his way out of shame was not annoying enough to stop you. “It’s like monitoring yourself, and It makes me a better lover. A better partner, if you want. Y-you should be glad I’m doing this—”

As Jungkook ranted on, you couldn’t bring yourself to interrupt him, for you knew the moment you tried to speak only a moan would emerge from your throat.

Jungkook, however, took your silence as a punishment. “So you really watched it, huh?” He chuckled, humorless. “Guess I fucked up again—”

For fuck’s sake not now. The way he hesitated — just for a second — before he spoke and his voice refused to come out untainted but in a rough whisper, was the last thing you needed to complete your descent into Dante’s nine circles of hell.

Before you could notice, the faintest whimper dripped from your lips, a broken chord that sounded like his name.

Well, if you wanted to stop Jungkook from blabbering, that was the way to go.

Maybe if you had been a little more in your senses, the realization that you had just moaned out the fragmented syllables of his name would have seemed like an apocalyptic forewarning for the chaos that would ensue. But no: you were far too gone to care, and it had fulfilled your initial purpose of silencing the annoying insect buzzing in your earphones.

But of course, Jungkook wouldn’t let it go so easily.

On the other end of the line, he cleared his throat. “What… are you doing?” He paused, seeming to take in all the details he had ever so naively overlooked aforetime — the vague panting that departed from in-between your lips, the eagerness in which you rushed to finish your sentences. Something odd was taking place, and even his one living neuron could perceive it. “You sound like you just ran a marathon. ”

“It’s a debate class, genius, things got… heated,” and that had been the perfect word to use. “I’m not doing anything.”

There was a second of hesitation before he spoke up again. “Isn’t Namjoon in that class with you?”

“Yes. Congrats on the goldfish memory.” You breathed out — okay, you could maybe hold yourself back. You were getting close, for your legs were already shaking, and you could barely keep your eyes open for longer than a couple seconds and, if you had holden tight for that long, you could do it again. Just no more moaning. Not in front of him. Later, maybe.

“That’s weird,” Jungkook spoke. Fuck his voice, fuck the way his whimpers and cries for release still echoed inside your head; fuck the delicious sight of his head thrown back, and his adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed hard. Fuck him. Fuck you. Hopefully. “I just texted him and he said that you left to go to the bathroom. For lady pro—”

“—It’s a different Namjoon.” What kind of answer was that? You were barely thinking. “Listen, Jungkook, I’m not in the mood to talk, so maybe you could just… call later?”

“There’s only one Namjoon, and we both know his lame lactose-intolerant ass.” Jungkook could be sharp if he thought very hard. Maybe the ruptured thoughts crossing your mind, the weakness spreading all over your body, was what he had needed to fight on equal ground — and somehow you knew he would be very proud of this victory. “You received the video, and then went to the bathroom?” He was trying to organize the timeline of your befall, and for once his solitary neuron was cooperating, while yours were just running around, screaming like hippies high on acid. “Did you go to the bathroom… to watch it?”

“Jungkook, just drop it.” You whined, the sound needier than you had ever intended. “Let’s talk later, okay? I need to go back to class now. Call me later if you want and we’ll talk about the stupid party or your rampant narcissism, whatever you want.”

“I’ll wait for you after class—” He didn’t sound convinced. The raggedness of your voice was a good reason to be puzzled, but the guy was apparently too idle to hang up and do something useful. “We can go somewhere to discuss the party details if you’re up. You know, like a business meeting but in like a café or something.”

“I have a test tomorrow.” Holding to the last threads of rationality, you understood it was time to end the conversation. “Nice talking to you, Jungkook. Bye.”

Jungkook would have questions, of course, but you could only think of him, his hands, his soft lips against your own. Your hand returned to torture your clit, this time unrestricted by his presence on the phone. It was ridiculously easy to find the right pace, to bring back the memory of his weights pressing against your own, his tongue discovering your mouth. Jungkook could mess your existence even in your imagination and that was something you had to confess you had never expected.

Call ended, you allowed yourself to suspire in relief, dwelling in the absence of his frequent interrogations, and the pleasure that was overtaking your senses. The silence, however, was short-lived: you forgot you still had the video playing in the background.  

Now, some things in life are beautifully synchronized: the fly of birds as the sun sets; your favorite sad song playing while you’re driving in the rain… Jungkook’s dragged-out moans echoing inside your head the same instant you found your high. You know, the simple stuff. The kind of stuff that makes you lay awake at night in horror.

Your legs trembled when you reached your orgasm, waves of heat running up and down your thighs as you fought to suppress a prolonged whimper. On your hands, the device called for your attention, and your parted eyes barely got the glimpse of a smaller, digitally edited Jungkook covering his abs with the white strands of his own relief; hips rolling against his palm as his mouth, open, cried out in sheer alleviation. You loved that sight, and it pushed you even further down your decay into inferno.

But, of course, the video didn’t stop there. It didn’t fade into black, as you had expected, because you deserved a plot twist to end the day. You had depleted your luck reserves long ago — probably during a math exam — so it was highly unlikely that the guy would just finish the deed and turn off the camera.

No, instead Jungkook continued teasing his cock until his thighs trembled with the excess of his own caresses; limbs flinching under the tides of his exaggerated stimulation. He could not bite back he suspires of despair as he rode a second orgasm and muttered an unintelligible prayer.

Wait, scratch that. You rewinded the video, to listen for a second time. In this occasion you closed your eyes, because his fucked-out face was far too distracting for your brain to keep up with so many stimuli.

It was, actually, very intelligible.

Jeon Jungkook was not praying, but moaning your name.

That, nevertheless, was a secret that would die with you. Or so you hoped.

[let-it-raines]

Hi! Can I request a secret relationship prompt where Emma and Killian have kept their relationship from David? Angst with a happy ending please 😘

So @initiala left tags on this prompt story of mine about Emma leaving a hickey on Killian and him getting written up by his officers for it, and I loved it so much that I thought I should include it in a story. It just happened to be in this one. So thanks for that, lovely! I hope you guys enjoy this one! I’m rather fond of it💙

-/-

“There’s not a day will go by I won’t think of you,” he’d said before he boarded a bus with a bright smile on his face, one that she loves and one that she knows was to reassure her for all of the time that he’d be gone.

-/-

Her leg shakes as she sits on the ground of Logan International, her skin practically vibrating to the point where she’s no longer chilled from the outside temperature. It’s December and Boston is covered in snow flurries and deep winds that have her wearing far more than her usual light sweater and leather jacket. She pretty much looks like a snowman or burrito at all times, and that’s fine until she’s trying to do a honey trap and has to wear a short dress. Not surprisingly, creepy men are not attracted to the puffer jacket.

Being a bail bondsperson is weird, but it’s not like she has a lot of job options. It pays well, it can be interesting, and she’s damn good at it. That’s all that really matters.

Last night she’d been out late on a stakeout trying to find this guy who skipped out on his court date, and even though her tip said he’d be at O’Grady’s, he wasn’t. She swears she’s never going to find him, which kind of sucks since the payoff would be fantastic, especially since she has a few last-minute Christmas gifts to buy. But it’s fine. She’ll find him eventually, and really the only inconvenience that Matthew Tooker has caused her is the fact that she hasn’t slept in a solid twenty-two hours.

And she’s really hyped up on coffee.

Like, a lot of coffee.

Which is usually fine, but she’s anxious, could throw up right here anxious, and instead of being a normal human being and showing up right when the flight is landing, she showed up a solid two hours ahead of time like she’s the one boarding a flight or something.

It’s been a long two hours.

Really, it’s been the longest thirteen months of her life, but it’s almost over. The entire thing is almost over, and that’s all that matters. She made it. They made it. Nothing else matters.

Except maybe the fact that she’s about to vibrate out of her skin for how anxious she is.

Anxious. Excited. Same thing.

Her fingers are constantly sliding across her phone, checking to see if a message has popped up, and when one doesn’t, she checks the flight’s tracker to see that its landed. But she knew that. His plane has been on the ground for at least thirty minutes now, and she has no idea where he is.

She’s not going to freak out. She’s simply not.

She’s going to wait for Killian to show up, kiss the holy hell out of him, and then absolutely never let him go until she has to. Or until she falls asleep. She’s really ready to fall asleep. He probably is too. The poor man is most likely exhausted.

(And she knows that her never letting him go doesn’t mean he’ll never have to leave again, but she’s hopeful enough to wish for that.)

She looks down to check her phone again, the messages still empty except for a text from David about where she is and one from Ruby talking about her date last night, and disappointment settles in her stomach even as a flux of new people come through the baggage claim gates.

Please be there, please be there, please be there.

Rising from her spot on the ground, she brushes her leggings off and stuffs her phone in her waistband before picking up her jacket and looping it over her forearm. It’s kind of a mess with all of the harried people looking for their bags or trying to get ahold of their children, so her moving through it isn’t helping the madness at all. But she doesn’t care. No part of her cares because her boyfriend is coming home, and she needs to feel the strength of his arms and the warmth of his skin around her. It’s been far too long, and she’s scared that she’s forgotten just how comforting his embrace can be and just how much she loves the smell of him.

How could she forget such a wonderful thing?

Her eyes scan the room looking for the dark hair that’s going to be a little shorter than what she’s used to and the skin that’s going to be a bit more tan. She should not have watched those videos of soldiers reuniting with their families because now that’s all she can think about as her heart beats so quickly that it may very well have moved from her chest to her stomach to her freaking right calf, which is funny because she seems to only hear it – feel it– beating between her ears like a drum that’s sound has been amplified.

“Swan!”

Her head whips so quickly before she even realizes which direction his voice was coming from. She heard him, heard the deep vibration of her last name rolling off of his tongue, but she can’t find him.

“Emma,” Kilian repeats.

She turns to her right, and suddenly he’s there.

He’s here.

She takes exactly six steps forward until her arms are wrapping around his neck, his arms wrapping around her back, and the warmth and strength that she remembered is exactly the same. Her memories don’t compare to the reality, though, and she buries her nose in his neck, breathing him in. He mostly smells like that awful stale scent of an airplane, but she can detect the smallest whiff of his cologne, the one she sent to him a few months ago along with a bottle of her perfume, and she nearly chokes on her sob at the smell of it.

“Did you miss me?” Killian jokes while his hand runs up and down the length of her back, every inch of her skin turning into gooseflesh that has her hair on edge and her stomach doing that weird flippy thing again.

“You know I did. That’s a mean question,” she huffs against his skin. Her hand slaps the back of his neck before she threads her fingers through his hair as much as she can. She absolutely cannot wait until he gets to grow it back out.

She has a bit of an obsession with his hair.

It’s wonderful. And so damn soft.

“I missed you, love,” he whispers into her ear, squeezing her a little bit tighter before pulling back and running his hands up her body, every touch just as electric as earlier, before he’s cupping her cheeks, rough fingers holding onto her while soft, affectionate blue eyes stare down at her. They’re so much better in person than in a video. “You look tired.”

“That’s a really sucky thing to say to me right now.”

“I’m simply trying to check my chances of getting lucky later.”

“Oh my God,” she laughs, slamming her lips forward until Killian’s are pressing against hers. She thought that his embrace was just the same, that it was warm and welcoming and felt like home, but it doesn’t compare to this. It doesn’t compare to the softness of his lips and his clean-shaven skin or the way that his hands inch back to settle themselves in her hair so that he can guide her head, tilting it to the side while his tongue runs across the seam of her lips and sends pleasure all the way down her spine.

This is like coming home.

He’s home.

No part of her cares that they’re in a very public place right now, so she holds on a little more tightly, kisses him a little more deeply, and revels in the feeling of every inch of her body pressed up against his until there’s an obnoxious wolf whistle in the background that has them breaking apart for air, foreheads resting against each other while Killian keeps lightly brushing his lips over hers as she laughs and groans all at once.

“You want to go home, sailor?”

“You have absolutely no idea much I want that.”

The drive to her apartment is possibly the longest car ride of her entire life. Because of course there’s construction and a road closure and traffic backed up for at least a mile. And she’s an awful human being for griping and complaining about traffic being backed up because there’s probably an accident and all she really wants is to get back to her apartment to fuck her boyfriend.

Priorities and all.

But they do get to her apartment, an hour after leaving the airport, and Killian crowds her against the door before she can even get the key out to unlock it. His body is warm even through her jacket, and she gulps as his hands snake up underneath it to play with the skin above her waistband while his lips brush against the shell of her ear, his warm breath hitting against her cool skin. She already feels like she’s on fire, and it’s got to be below freezing outside.

Leaning back into him, she lets his fingers tap against her stomach while his lips keep moving against her neck, lulling her into such a state of hazy arousal that she forgets that they’re outside until he speaks. He’s really good at kissing her neck. Damn.

“Darling, as much as I’d like to take you against this door, I do believe it’s highly illegal if we’re in your hallway instead of your apartment.”

“I can’t reach my key with you like this.”

Killian grunts in response before he backs up, the loss of heat immediate even though he doesn’t let go of his hands on her hips as he still digs his fingers into her hip bones. She can barely think when he’s touching her like this. It’s been so damn long, and a part of her was seriously considering letting the two of them get arrested for public indecency if it meant that she got to be with him again. But she’s not going to do that, so with shaky hands, she finally gets her key out of her purse and unlocks the door, pushing it open as she walks inside with Killian right behind her.

He doesn’t give her a chance to do or say anything before he’s caging her in against the inside of the door, murmuring a pretty loud and desperate “finally” as his one hand grabs onto her ass and the other her face while his lips devour hers once more. She really can’t think when he’s kissing her like this, all hunger and lost patience and heat, so she tries not to as her hands run the length of his arms over and over again while his tongue plunges into her mouth and makes her gasp with pleasure. Eventually her hands find underneath his shirt, pushing up beneath the material to feel muscles and soft curled hair that she knew she missed but not quite so badly until it was between her fingers again.

“Take off your shirt,” she mumbles as her head tilts back against the doorframe while Killian works at her collarbone, running his tongue against the dip while she aches for his beard to grow back.

“So demanding.”

“The faster you take of your shirt the faster we can get down to business.”

“Technically, love, I believe you should want me to take off my pants then.”

“That – ah –  ” He nips at her skin, and she practically melts right there against her door. “ – too. That too. Take it all off.”

“As you wish.”

It takes far longer for them to get to her bedroom than it ever should, but Killian seems to be determined to take his time to work at every inch of her skin that’s exposed as they shed their clothes. There’s a particular delay when she takes her bra off, and he spends a solid ten minutes talking and, well, not talking about how much he’s missed her breasts. But they do eventually get to the bedroom, all of their clothes littering the apartment, and she gets to take the time to show him just how much she’s missed every inch of his skin, her lips tracing a path down his chest and on his hip so her tongue can mark the ink that’s tattooed there. And when she finally wraps her lips around his length, the groan that passes through Killian’s lips is nearly enough to make her fall apart right then and there.

She never wants him to leave again.

“God, Emma, fuck, love, I – ”

She looks up at him from between his legs and hums around him at the same time that she winks, and the way his lips part in bliss nearly kills her. He’s so beautiful, and if she’s reducing him to sputtered words, he must be close.

No part of her is ready for this to be over. Not yet.

Releasing him, she presses her lips against his shaking inner thighs as he curses at her. She giggles in response, climbing up his body and resting her core against his length so that they can both get a little friction as she works the beginnings of a mark into his neck like she’s a teenager.

It’s not her fault, really. She simply can’t help herself.

“You’re driving me mad, woman,” Killian grunts as he grabs a handful of her ass, squeezing it then gently slapping the skin there. “You bring me to the edge only to pull back.”

“Didn’t want you to have all of the fun without me.”

“You looked like you were having fun.”

She rolls her eyes before pushing up to kiss the corner of his lips as he squeezes her ass again, the hair on the back of her neck rising with that. “I love you, Lieutenant Jones.”

“I love when you use my ranking like that.”

Emma laughs as she presses her nose into his cheek, rolling her hips at the same time so that Killian’s tip brushes her folds and fills her with just enough warmth to be a tease.

“And I love you,” he promises as his hands travel up the length of her body, holding onto her hips and she sits down on his lap, rising on her knees and slowly guiding Killian into her until he’s fully enveloped within her.

Every part of her knows that it was this good before, but it’s hard to think of any of that when she can feel the warm stretch of having him inside of her once more. Her eyes slam shut as she rocks a bit, testing the limits of their time apart while Killian’s grip on her waist tightens enough to leave red marks. This is absolutely everything she’s wanted, dreamed about, and she wouldn’t change a damn thing.

“Oh fuck that’s good,” she gasps as she rocks a little more, her fingers curling into his chest hair while Killian looks at her with hooded eyes, the blue a little darker than usual. He seems to be watching where they’re joined, the in and out of his cock with her body, and she smiles to herself as heat continues to curl between her legs.

She’ll never get over how Killian is with her at any time, but how he is when they’re being intimate reaches a whole new level of closeness. And maybe it’s kind of hot for him to run his tongue over his bottom lip while he watches her sink down on him.

Her rocks are slow until she needs something different, leaning forward and propping herself further onto her knees as she moves a little more quickly, letting Killian use his hips to trust up into her as much as he can. Her lips find his neck again, working at that same spot, and she gets lost in it all until Killian’s hand finds where they’re joined and begins rubbing hard circles against the slick flesh. She forgot how close he was to falling over the edge earlier, and from the way he’s working her and making the coil in her stomach tighten and her breaths shorten as sweat rolls down her back, she knows that he’s nearly there again.

She moves her lips from his neck to his own soft lips, capturing his breath and his words with her mouth so that they can be connected in every way possible. His hand not driving her into madness settles at her hip, holding her steady all the while she bunches her hands into the sheets above Killian’s head, holding on so tightly that she could probably rip the material. But then her skin is tingling, pleasure and pain all mixed into one, and she has to stop moving her lips against Killian’s as she falls, her legs no longer able to keep moving.

In her hazy state she can feel Killian continuing to keep pumping inside of her, and it’s not long until she feels the warmth of him falling too, everything dulling around her until she focuses on the steady beat of his heart underneath her ear that she’s been waiting on hearing for an entire year. There are a lot of things you can share over letters and facetime, but there’s nothing quite like being able to feel and hear Killian’s heartbeat under the warmth of his chest.

It’s an entirely different ballgame than simply seeing him smile over a blurry screen.

She’ll take those blurry smiles every day of the week too.

She’ll take it all.

But she doesn’t have to because he’s here. She can see the real, clear ones, the smiles where he’s looking at her like she was the one to hang the stars in the sky that guide him home at night.

After a few minutes of sitting in silence with Killian rubbing his hand up and down her back and intermittently brushing his lips against her temple, Killian gently rolls her over onto her back before he rises from the bed. She whistles at the view of his ass, and she can tell that he gives her an extra bit of swagger as he makes his way to the bathroom, coming back with a wet washcloth and wiping down her thighs while she simply lays there and stares up at him with what she’s sure is a dopey smile on her face.

No part of her cares.

(She’s also got to get up to go to the bathroom but whatever.)

Killian tosses the cloth in her hamper before crawling back in bed with her, peppering kisses on her ankle and up her leg until he’s resting his head on her stomach, cheek squished into her skin. She smiles down at him while her hand reaches to brush through his hair, moving the sweaty strands back. He must have not had his hair shaved recently with how much there is despite there being less than usual.

She loves him a ridiculous amount. The eye crinkles kill her.

“The view of your breasts is really rather fantastic from down here.”

“It’s better from up here.”

He hums at the same time that he nudges his nose against the underside of her boob, seemingly content to keep teasing her. “Have I told you that I love you yet today?”

“Mhm.”

“Or that I’ve missed you?”

“You’ve said that too.”

“Or that not a day went by where I didn’t think of you.”

“Oh you didn’t say that one.”

“Not a day went by where I didn’t think of you.”

She hums as the sweat begins to dry on her forehead and a chill runs over her body from the ceiling fan running at full speed above them. “I’d say the same thing, but there was this one day where I slept the whole time so I’m not sure quite what happened there.”

“You were probably dreaming of me.”

“Sure. Let’s go with that,” she laughs while her fingers leave his hair and trail down the side of his neck where the beginnings of a bruise are forming. “I think I may have teased your skin a bit too much here.”

Killian’s eyes close as he chuckles, his chest rumbling with laughter, and she watches as his lips form into a bright smile that show her all of his white teeth while the corners of his eyes crinkle.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Swan, you’ve got this nasty habit of giving me hickeys despite the fact that we’re two grown adults.”

“I do not do that.” He raises a brow and doesn’t say anything else. “What?”

“Emma, my love, right before I was deployed, we had several rather frantic lovemaking sessions, and I swear to you that I was covered in hickeys all across my skin.”

She shrugs. “Just giving you a reminder of me to hold onto.”

He laughs again as his hand fumbles around the mattress until he finds her free one, interlocking their fingers and bringing her knuckles to his mouth, kissing each one individually. “And while I appreciate that, I had to try every bloody method in the book to get rid of them before we deployed. But I couldn’t, and I got written up for a solid three days in a row. Will and Robin are still talking about it.”

“Wait. What?”

“Swan, I’m not supposed to have damn hickeys. At least visible ones. It’s against uniform code, which is fine. I’m mostly arsed about it because my mates took the piss out of me for it. Do you know how many jokes can be made about hickeys?”

“Not a clue.”

“A hell of a lot.”

Emma hums, her cheeks heating with flush, and runs her hand down from his hair to his neck so that her fingers can press against the red mark that’s forming. “So Will and Robin were assholes over it then?”

“Yep, but between you and me I believe it’s because they’re jealous they don’t have girlfriends like you to give them rather teenager-ish love bites.”

“Obviously. I am quite a catch.”

“I tend to think so.” He brings their knuckles to his lips to kiss again, and she sighs in contentment over this. She still can’t believe that he’s here, that he’s home, and she never wants to let go. She still kind of thinks that this is all a dream, but she knows that it’s real. “Did you happen to go buy groceries before I got here, or do we need to order take out?”

“What do you think?”

“I’ll call Mr. Wong’s.”

While Killian orders their food, she gets up to go to the bathroom and wash her face, spending some time to work through the mess that is her hair. She can feel the chill from outside finally beginning to seep through the walls, but instead of completely getting dressed, she simply puts on a new pair of underwear and one of her oversized sweaters that falls to her upper thighs. Her apartment isn’t big, just the bedroom and bathroom cornered off to the end while everything else fills the room in the entryway, and since she doesn’t really feel like moving too far, she settles back down in bed, clicking on the remote and scrolling through Netflix to try to find something for she and Killian to watch while they eat. She promised not to watch approximately ten different shows without him, and she spectacularly failed at that promise.

It’s fine. It’s all fine.

“Lunch is ordered, love,” Killian says as he shuffles through his bag until he finds a pair of plaid pajama pants that hang low on his hips, showing off the muscles that are a little more defined than usual, not that she’s complaining. “Should be here in about thirty minutes. They’re backed up apparently.”

“That’s fine. I need to – ” Her phone starts ringing on the bedside table and she reaches over to grab it. “It’s David,” she tells Killian before answering. “Hey.”

“Hey,” David greets, his voice far too loud. How is he so chipper right now? How is he so chipper all of the time? “Are you working today?”

“Um, just doing research. Why?”

“Because Killian is coming home tonight, and I thought we’d all take him out to dinner.”

Killian’s brow raises at the sound of his name, and she shrugs her shoulders as she keeps listening to David talk about dinner plans. Killian settles down on the bed, and just as she thinks he’s about to lean closer so that he can hear more of her conversation, he grabs her ankle and begins pressing slow kisses against her skin as he works his way up the inside of her leg. It sends vibrations throughout her entire body, especially because his eyes never leave hers (the bastard), and she knows that he’s doing this on purpose. She really knows when he starts working at her inner thigh while his fingers brush over her center, and she has to bite down on her bottom lip so hard that she can taste iron filling her mouth.

“What was that?” her brother asks.

“Nothing,” she squeaks, raising her hips up to Killian’s touch as he slides her underwear to the side. She should have never answered this phone call. “So w-what about dinner? You don’t think maybe we should let Killian rest?”

“I think he’ll be excited to see all of us,” David explains while Killian very pointedly drags his tongue up between her folds, making her entire body heat and squirm all the while she has to hold back her gasp on the phone to her brother. “So where are you thinking he’ll like?”

“I don’t,” she gasps, reaching with her free hand down to Killian to grab onto his hair and hold him still even though that’s the absolute last thing that she wants right now, “know. He’s your best friend.”

David sighs on the other end of the line. “I’ll ask Mary Margaret. Do you – ”

“I have to go,” she practically yells as Killian circles her clit. “Work call.”

“Okay well – ”

She hangs up the phone and throws it down on the bed, slamming her eyes shut as waves of pleasure crest through her. Damn. She really is glad to have him home.

Even if she can’t tell anyone else that he’s currently in her apartment driving her mad with his tongue and his teeth and his lips. They’ve been together for two years, even if he was away for over half of that time, and during all of those months she hasn’t told a single soul that she and Killian are dating. It’s stupid if she thinks about it too much, but she only really knows Killian because he’s been her brother’s best friend for about five years now. And David has always been obnoxiously weird about her dating his friends.

She’s pretty much dated all of his friends.

It’s difficult to meet people, okay?

When she was a teenager she was with Neal. It was all kinds of puppy love until it was decidedly not puppy love with him framing her for stealing watches and sending her to jail for eleven months. She despises the ground he walks on, and the amount of therapy she’s gone through to get to where she is today would absolutely blow most people’s mind. She doesn’t know what she’d do if her mom hadn’t had the resources to help her out. She doesn’t know what she’d have done if she hadn’t accepted the help. She was bitter for a long time, deservedly so she thinks, and there are still times when she has nightmares about the injustice that was done to her.

No part of her thinks that she was this innocent flower child in high school, but she wasn’t a criminal. She should have never gone to jail.

She should have never trusted Neal.

And she has a hard time trusting people, which is probably why she’s had a tendency to date people David is friends with. For awhile, she didn’t want anything more than to scratch an itch, but then she moved to Boston and slept on David’s couch and began dating his roommate Graham.

Graham, who was as sweet as can be and who she was emotionally unavailable to for the longest time. But he still kept trying, was still kind to her, but at some point they both realized it simply wasn’t going to work. And if they realized it through a series of awful fights that still make her cringe, that’s another matter. Graham had to move out of the apartment – even if he didn’t technically have to– and that made work for David incredibly awkward. It made her relationship with David awkward too, and he pretty much forbid her from dating his friends.

As if he could tell her what to do.

That’s probably what upset her most of all. She’s an adult. She can make her own choices, and her older brother doesn’t get to make them for her. And while their relationship is back to normal now, they did go through some difficult times. So when she and Killian happened to get drunk on a night out in September of two years ago and sleep together, they both agreed that no matter what, they weren’t telling David. And it was going to be fine. It was just supposed to be a one time thing. But then it happened again…and again…and again, and eventually they decided to move on from sleeping together to actually dating. It was terrifying, but it works.

Plus, the thrill of it all kind of made things all the better.

She was happy and in love and laughed more than she’d ever laughed in her entire life, but then Killian told her he was deploying to South Korea and even though he wasn’t in real danger, her heart absolutely fell to pieces. She told herself that it would be fine, that she would be fine, that they would be fine. She doesn’t mind being on her own, and she wouldn’t miss Killian that much.

She missed him every damn day.

It was an entirely new world for her, one she’d never experienced with anyone before, and her respect for those with significant others in the military increased tenfold. She missed him, plain and simple, and she still can’t quite believe that he’s home.

And eating her out like a man starved.

She definitely approves of that.

It doesn’t take much longer before she falls apart, her orgasm rolling through her in short waves, and just as Killian is nuzzling his nose into her thigh, the doorbell rings with their lunch. The two of them lounge around in bed as they eat their food, handing over the containers to each other to share, and let episodes of Elementary play in the background. It’s nice, more than nice, and she absolutely never wants to move from this bed, especially as Killian makes her laugh so much that her stomach is absolutely convulsing in joy.

“You’re ridiculous,” she sputters, twisting around on the mattress and resting her temple against the headboard. “How in the world do you know all of the lyrics to every Spice Girls’ song?”

“It’s part of a requirement to living in England.”

“Is that why you had to move to America? Your Posh Spice impersonation wasn’t up to snuff?”

Killian reaches over and pinches her thigh while she kicks out at his leg. “You know why I moved here, and it wasn’t because my bloody Posh Spice impersonation wasn’t enough.”

Her eyes roll. Ridiculous, she thinks again. Ridiculous man.

“I’ll tell you what I want what I really, really want,” she teases before standing on the bed, moving down toward the end and hoping down to the floor. “I want to take a shower because we have to get ready to go to dinner with my brother.”

“Do you think I can lie and say my flight is delayed?”

“Probably.”

Killian clicks his tongue behind her, and before she can fully strip out of her sweater, he’s wrapping his arms around her waist, fingers splayed against his stomach, and nuzzling his chin into her shoulder. “You don’t think that makes me the worst person?”

“Oh no, it does, but I’m encouraging it.”

“Good.” He starts walking the two of them backwards until they fall back onto her bed. “I plan on not letting you go until I absolutely have to.”

-/-

“I cannot believe you chickened out and are making us go out to dinner,” she huffs as they walk through downtown on the way to David and Mary Margaret’s apartment later that night. “Like, I didn’t even get a chance to take a real shower because you had some kind of brain aneurism and felt guilty about skipping dinner when it was your idea in the first place.”

Killian chuckles beside her, his breath turning white in the air, before his arm wraps around her waist and tugs her closer, warming her with the continual movement of his hand and the press of his lips against her temple. Their ears are going to fall off even with these beanies covering them, and all she wants is to be inside David’s apartment eating the pizza she knows he ordered for them.

At least she hopes that David ordered. When Mary Margaret orders sometimes things get a little dicey. At least they’re not going out to eat since Killian told her brother he was a bit too knackered to do anything other than sit on the couch and eat at home. Of course, he could have done that in her apartment, but apparently, he too good of a person to completely cancel on David and Mary Margaret.

They finally get to the apartment building, her fingers nearly frozen off, and instead of letting her finish typing in the code to get in, Killian pulls her to the side and presses her up against the gated fence, cold iron digging into her back while somehow still warm lips press into hers, reigniting the sparks that she never wants to extinguish as Killian nips at her lips, a gasp escaping her as she melts into the kiss.

Well, freezes. She’s freezing, but she’s melting into the kiss. She’s always been an enigma. At least, that’s what Killian tells her.

Killian could tell her that he thinks she’d look better with a third boob if he keeps kissing her like this. And she definitely wouldn’t care.

(Okay, she totally would. That’d be weird.)

“What was that for?” she murmurs as her hands run down his arms until they’re tucking inside of his coat, exploring firm lines and muscles until they find their place in the back pockets of his jeans. Is it to keep her hands warm or feel his ass? No one has to know but her.

(It’s both.)

He doesn’t answer at first, his lips still softly gliding over hers while his hands inch a little higher on her shoulders, fingers landing at her neck while he drags his nail against her skin, a shiver that has nothing to do with the cold running through her.

“I can’t kiss you when we go inside, and I realized that I desperately needed to kiss you once more.”

“Charmer.”

He clicks his tongue, pulling back so that she can see the blue of his eyes. Seriously. How are his eyes so blue? Is that even genetically possible?

“You like my charming ways, love.”

“At least a solid seventy two percent of the time, yeah.”

Killian taps his fingers against her neck before holding onto a bit of her hair, running it through his fingers. She’s missed how he did that. “That’s a passing percentage, so that’s good with me. You ready to go upstairs?”

She nods. “Absolutely.”

Her head is still a little dizzy, her mind a bit jumbled from the feeling of Killian pressed up against her, but she manages to type in the code and open the gate so that they can go inside and take the stairs the three floors up to David and Mary Margaret’s apartment. Mary Margaret opens the door, and the moment her eyes land on Killian, a bright smile breaks out onto her face and she’s very literally shoving Emma aside to hug Killian so tightly that his eyes very well may pop out of his head.

She’d never put that past Mary Margaret.

At least her own brother hugs her first, even if it is a quick little thing before he moves onto her boyfriend. To be fair, she did pretty much smother Killian when he got home, but she’s also very much in love with him. She can do things like that.

“I ordered some pizza from Rose’s,” David explains when all of the hugging is over and they’re settled into the warmth of the apartment, jackets and hats shed and hung on the back of the door. “And we have water, beer, rum.”

“And lemonade,” Mary Margaret pipes in.

“And lemonade,” David continues, waiting behind the kitchen island.

“Water is fine. I still feel a bit parched from traveling. Swan?”

“Water. You’re really going all out if you bought rum and pizza for Killian.”

“Mary Margaret wanted to do so much more, so I promise you this is tame.”

“Just throw me under the bus, why don’t you, sweetie?” Mary Margaret huffs.

“She also tried to order pineapple pizza.”

Mary Margaret chunks an empty plastic water bottle at David, hitting him in the back of the head, and he barely even acknowledges it, continuing to open pizza boxes and get out paper plates and full water bottles.

True love and all that.

“So how happy are you to be home?” Mary Margaret asks.

They’ve all settled down into the living room, David and Mary Margaret sitting on one couch while she and Killian take the loveseat, two separate blankets pulled over their laps since she’s still freezing, the apartment suddenly not as warm as she thought it was when they walked in. The warm pizza, though, is pretty much the greatest thing she’s ever eaten, and she could probably go through an entire box. By the speed that Killian is going, he could go through two.

“Words can’t express how happy I am,” he laughs, the joy in his voice obvious as he holds his slice of pizza in his hand. His happiness means everything to her. “I mean, I can sleep. I can eat my favorite foods. I can catch up on some of my shows. My God, I have so many shows to catch up on.”

His eyes dart toward her, and she knows that he is aware of the fact that she didn’t wait for him.

Oops.

“So you’re more excited to watch TV than to see your friends?”

“Absolutely, Dave. Though I did miss that handsome face of yours.”

“Ba – oh my gosh,” she stutters, nearly calling Killian babe, “you guys are ridiculous.”

“Don’t be jealous that he didn’t miss your face.”

She sticks out her tongue at David because that’s obviously the mature thing to do.

“To be fair,” Killian sighs, “I mostly missed Emma’s ass.” It’s Killian’s turn to get a water bottle chunked at him, from David this time, but he catches it, the plastic crunching under his grip as she and Mary Margaret try to contain their laughter. “What? Your sister has a fantastic ass.”

“It’s true,” she shrugs, hoping too much of her face isn’t as red as the pizza sauce. “To be fair, I missed Killian’s ass too.”

They’re probably pushing it a bit too far, especially with the way that David is glaring at her, but then he turns back to the television and asks what show Killian wants to catch up on, telling him that it’s his night and he can watch whatever he wants. He picks Stranger Things, which doesn’t surprise her at all, and she gives up pretending that she doesn’t know what’s going to happen by the second episode when Killian’s hand ends up on her thigh under the blankets, a comforting presence even when he inches a little too high and causes her breathing to be a little shallow.

In her long list of reasons why she missed Killian – and it’s getting longer every minute – the little things that he does are definitely inching their way to the top. Whenever they sit together or drive somewhere together, his hand is always resting on the inside of her thigh. Sometimes it’s because he’s trying to rile her up, but most of the time it’s because he wants that connection, the one she wants too. This easy intimacy is quite possibly her favorite thing in the entire world, and she never wants to give it up.

Ever.

Even if she knows that Killian is going to complain about her having watched every single show that she told him she’d wait for him for.

Shit happens. She likes TV. Killian was gone for a long time.

He’ll forgive her.

Probably.

“You have new freckles on your nose,” he whispers into her ear, his breath hot on her skin. “And your hair is longer.”

“That tends to happen when I don’t get it cut.”

“Aye, I know.” He squeezes her thigh, and she wonders if it would be too obvious if she kissed Killian right now. Probably. No, definitely. “I’m simply categorizing all of the things that have changed since I left.”

“That might take you awhile.”

“I think I have the time.”

“Hey, Jones,” David calls, and she and Killian both turn their heads to look at her brother, his face hidden in the shadows of the dark room so that it’s only illuminated by the television light, “next time you’re trying to keep a relationship with my sister secret, maybe don’t make out right by the security camera in front of our apartment. And, well, maybe have the balls to ask her out on a date.”

Oh.

No.

Shit.

“Swan?” Killian questions, raising a brow while his lips curve up to the side into that playful smirk she likes all the while her heart feels like it’s definitely mixing in with her small intestine over the fact that David apparently knows about them and sat through this entire dinner and binge watching session pretending he didn’t like a freaking psychopath.

“Yeah?”

“You want to go on a date? Or do you want to go back to your place and give me one of those Navy and David disapproved hickeys?”

“Eh,” she laughs, suddenly feeling much lighter than she thought she would when this moment came to fruition, not that she ever really could have imagined how it could. It certainly wasn’t going to be like this. “We’ve been on lots of dates. Let’s go home and talk about those hickeys and the freckles on my nose.”

Two years later when Killian deploys, Emma doesn’t leave him with a hickey on his neck. Instead she leaves him with a ring on his left hand.

And a hickey on his thigh where no one but her can see.

Killian returns to favor when he comes home.

David approves.

Of the relationship. Not the hickey. That would be weird.

[villa-kulla]

Quarantine Q&A

Tagged by @fontainebleau22 thanks! What an excellent ask meme lol

Are you staying home from work/school?

~rant ahead~

Yeah, so the school I work at is closed until at least May, and it will likely be closed for the rest of the year. We’ve moved to online learning which is a mix of live video class and independent projects. However, unfortunately as a support teacher who isn’t paid an annual salary, I’m covered for absolutely none of this:S I’m also not even guaranteed the same hours of work with my usual students (I work only with the international ones) because people’s families are so in flux right now. It’s totally understandable that they wouldn’t want to pay for their kids to have support anymore, since their kids won’t be able to get the same specialized classes/IEPs they’d usually get with me in person. So we’ll see, one family has basically jumped ship, and I’m still waiting to hear back from a lot. I had a mini class this morning though with one of my second graders and it was adorable quite frankly. But yeah I’ll have missed essentially two weeks of work at this rate, am paid for zero of the online prep work I’ve done (which has been a lot lol fml), I have no idea how many more (if any) students I’ll get and it’s definitely a bit of a stress. Anyways this could be a much longer rant haha but I do really need to speak to the school about my current position because the support teachers are really being left out in the cold on this one. This was going to be my last year there anyways, and depending on what work I’m even able to get with them now, I sense unemployment insurance in my future lol

~rant over~

If you’re staying home, who’s there with you?

My cat and I are actually staying with my parents at the moment which is...an adjustment haha. My parents and I are very close and I love spending time with them, and it’s probably better to stay with family than rattling around my apartment alone but...I’m also a grownass woman and the parental microinvolvement......is grating!!! :)))))))) As much as my parents and I get along we should probably all just make sure to give each other some space regularly haha, because having to adjust to their routines after having been moved out for almost 10 years is...a lot lol.

(My cat, however, is a delight as always and continues to be the fluffiest, most charming creature in existence)

Are you a homebody?

Oh totally. I’m excellent at lounging and keeping myself entertained at home for long stretches so I’m not going too stir crazy yet. But that being said, I always used to balance it by going out a lot and seeing friends, so I’m definitely missing that piece right now.

An event that you were looking forward to that got cancelled?

The main one was James Taylor which I was SO looking forward to, never having seen him live. My family adores him and so my sister and brother-in-law and I bought tickets to see him for the family as our big Christmas present for my mom and dad. It’s been postponed so maybe someday! Oh also one of my best friends was getting married in a couple months and I was looking forward to his wedding

What movies have you watched recently? What shows are you watching?

For shows I’ve been looking forward to Better Call Saul more than ever lately! So glad the new season is happening right now. Also because I was just in Albuquerque I’ve been having a renewed interest in Breaking Bad lol so I rewatched season 4 semirecently. But yeah I have a literal ton of movies on my to-watch list and I should really take advantage of the extra time I have now by seeing some!

What music are you listening to?

I now finally have the time to build up my music library on my newish iphone (the music didn’t transfer over when I switched from my android), and am going genre by genre, mostly focusing on getting good running music first. So far I have a lot of funk/pop/classic rock. Also added some kpop I used to enjoy which got me all nostalgic haha there’s some good stuff. And as always Hozier owns my life, and Wasteland Baby has never felt more relevant lol.

What are you reading?

I’m currently reading The Shipping News for the first time, but nothing else yet! Grabbed some books from my apartment to keep me busy though. I have Germinal in French for if I want to practice and Germinal in English for if I want to actually enjoy it lmao. Turns out I own a copy of Emma which I’ve never read so I’ll try that. Oh and maybe I’ll actually finish Stephen King’s The Stand for some pandemic-themed mood-reading haha. I basically chose long, dense things that I won’t rip through too fast. Oh and I NEED to catch up on some fanfictions! I’ve been so slow!

What are you doing for self-care?

Running pretty much EVERY day and it feels great. My gym closed earlier in the year and running outside in the winter is so icy/slippy/wet/slushy that it’s not worth it, so I took most of the winter off. But now the snow’s almost gone and my parents live in a great area for running and I’ve been going for long stretches along the river every day, and it’s probably the best part of my day. If they eventually ban jogging I will actually cry lol.

Anyways the overall quarantine situation is ‘not ideal but could be MUCH worse’. I could do with some more work, but big picture I should be fine.

tagging @thenightisland @dreamsinteacups @purplespacecats @yoporkchopsandwiches

[teamlarl]

I don’t think that it’s any secret that for months I’ve been remarking upon how similar Adrastia and Catra were in my first impressions of She-Ra.

I’ve been putting off actually watching the show all this time because I was worried about those perceived similarities influencing Adrastia too much. But this past week I finally bit the bullet and binged the entirety of She-Ra. I just finished Season 4, and here are my thoughts about Catra and how she personally relates to me and my portrayal of Adrastia.

Ultimately, there were a lot more differences than I was expecting, but the similarities that were there, that drew me to Catra in the first place, are... oh boy. Yeah, they’re there. And they’re prominent.

---

So let’s get the differences out of the way.

If you looked up the dictionary definition of Abandonment Issues, you would see Catra’s picture there. It influences and motivates her entire character. She revolves around spite. She perceives herself as being abandoned by Adora, her best friend, the favorite, and she can’t handle it. If Adora is going to be the hero, Catra resolves herself to be the villain. Both out of spite and to prove herself.

And that’s the crux of Catra’s entire character. She’s trying to prove herself. She knows how capable she is, but all her life she was overlooked and, quite frankly, abused. And so she resolves to prove herself to her abusers, and what’s more, prove that she’s better than they ever were. Beat them at their own game.

Adrastia, on the other hand, doesn’t have abandonment issues. She causes them. She’s got the child soldier bit down, same as Catra, but Catra was always the unfavorite. Adrastia isn’t. Adrastia occupies a similar position as Adora used to. She was special. Addie’s “parent” captor is raising her and training her specifically because they recognize how much potential she has, and they want her to be a weapon.

And that’s where the different motivations develops from, I think. Adrastia isn’t out to prove herself. Just like Catra, she recognizes exactly how fucked up her childhood was, but Catra doesn’t care. Adrastia does. And Adrastia wants revenge over it. Adrastia is motivated by this need for revenge, to go scorched earth on the people who used her as their tool, their weapon, their slave. And then, when it’s all said and done, she wants peace.

That’s the differences. Different motivations and goals which stems from slightly different childhood environments. They’re both child soldiers, but their positions as such were different. It should also be noted how Catra had someone to latch onto from the beginning, Adora, to prop herself up and care about. Someone, who once she lost, triggered a gradual spiral. Adrastia didn’t really have anyone like that.

---

So let’s get to the similarities.

I once read a description of a character that described them, “as if someone had taken a broken vase and glued it back together, but with all the sharp shards facing outwards”. And if that doesn’t describe these two, I don’t know what does.

They’re both so angry. At themselves, at the world, at everyone around them. They take the abuse they suffered all their lives and internalize it. So much so that they don’t care about basic morality, they’re just out to protect themselves from any more hurt... Catra by attaining a position of authority and power that means no one will be her equal, and Addie by just burning this whole fucking thing down.

To protect themselves they push people away. Their walls are miles high. They hurt anyone that cares about them over and over until their friends just can’t take them anymore and leave. That is, if they don’t fuck over their friends first. Betrayal is just the name of the game for both Catra and Adrastia. It’s almost second nature. They push others away before they can hurt them, and then they hate themselves over it.

This extends to people who they consider their best friends, the people they’re closest too. 

Catra obsesses over Adora, her childhood friend, in what can only be described as the most twisted kind of love. She’s constantly trying to kill the girl, because Catra considers Adora to have abandoned her. To the point that she disavows Adora in the most unconvincing way ever, which she even gets called out on. When we see Catra’s perfect world, it’s a world where Adora never left her, where Adora has a position of power over her. She just wanted her friend.

It’s similar for Adrastia and Renatus. They don’t have the obsessive tendencies, but they’re best friends, and have been since they were kids. He’s the only friend that Adrastia had for the longest time, given that she’s not the easiest person to like. And yet, his father is her abuser, who she intends to murder. Adrastia’s goal contrasts with everything Renatus wants. He wants to help their home, improve it, but she wants to burn it down and murder his family. In her quest for vengeance, her relationship with Renatus is the only thing that gives her pause. But it’s not enough. She chooses herself.

Catra and Adrastia also both have a tendency to... go to extremes. They just... don’t care about consequences. It goes along with their lack of morality. They will do anything it takes to get what they want, no matter the cost. Literally, no matter the cost. Catra wants to win? She’ll take the entire world down with her if she has to. Adrastia wants her revenge? She’ll fracture a kingdom and send it spiraling down into civil war.

Nothing else matters to them. Just what they want. They’re selfish. They’re liars. They continue the cycle of abuse that they themselves were subjected to.

And they both suffer over it. They break over it.

---

So, ultimately, I don’t think I have to worry too much about one of my OCs being influenced by Catra. Because all of the beats are already there, at least right now. I’m sure the differences will stack up once Season 5 arrives. Adrastia’s path is already set in my mind. Catra’s future, on the other hand, is still very much in flux.

But personally, I’m really hoping the girl gets some therapy.

[flowiehowie]

Tales of Heroism OC Profile #1

So about a year ago I started the Masks: A new Generation tabletop game with two of my friends. The premise of the game is basically Super heroes DnD. It was fun but didn't last as I was the only one between us with interest in super heroics and the story we were making kinda turned into an Urban Fantasy setting. However I still had deep love for my super hero characters so I kept adding to the world I was making, making a Google Doc of character profiles and plot ideas.

Now since this Quarantine has me loosing my mind I decided to post them. I dont know how many I will do, but I have a lot of love for these characters and this setting I made, so if you happen to see this, I hope you enjoy them too! Please ask me questions! If you have your own super hero OC tell me about them! Super heroes are cool. We need more of them.

SOCIETY OF CHAMPIONS HERO DOSSIERS   HERO ID: M-19T-M34 HEROIC ALIAS: Hourglass CURRENT RANK: 103 FULL NAME: Aaliyah Curtis SEX: FEMALE HEIGHT: Imperial: 6 Feet 10 inches. Metric: 208.28cm RACE: African-American HAIR COLOR: Brown EYE COLOR: Black Sclera, glowing green iris.   ANOMOLOUS APPEARANCE?: Yes. Across the left side of her face, her chest, her shoulders, and her lower back and upper thighs, she has small green stones embedded in her skin. Cracks of green energy may also appear near these stones. Her left arm has been completely replaced with a long durable spike of this green stone. DATE OF BIRTH: July 10th, 1953 (Note made by Kelsey B., Archivist; Despite knowing her DOB, the age of Hourglass is constantly in flux due to the nature of her powers. Refer to Professor Scath’s medical reports for further analysis and data regarding this) NEXT OF KIN: N/A POWER OF ATTORNEY: Cassandra Clark ORIGIN OF POWERS: Mutation( ) - Inherited Genetics ( ) - Forced Experimentation ( ) - Cybernetic augmentation ( ) - Cosmic Force (X) - Extraterrestrial ( ) - Extraterrestrial experimentation ( ) - Divine Force ( ) - ORIGIN OF POWER NOTES: Archivist Kelsey Bernard. I have spent an hour with Hourglass trying to record the exact origins and circumstances of her powers, however she was frustratingly dismissive of my attempts. All I could gather is that when she was young she somehow fell into the dimension she refers to as the ‘Eternal Epoch’. May I personal suggest that is a ridiclously pretentious name. Just call it the time zone or something. These heroes and their silly names. Anyways she fell into the ‘Eternal Epoch’, a dimension of pure time, whatever that means. Time is an illusion everyone knows that. It was there she gained her powers, and had the green crystals embedded in her chest, stomach, face, and where she lost her arm. And gained the cool sword arm. God how cool would that be having a sword arm? Randy wouldn't steal my lunches if I had a sword arm. I wonder if Hourglass could threaten Randy for me. I mean shes a hero and he is a vile criminal that keeps stealing my grilled cheeses so... POWERS:   1.) Personal Time Manipulation: Her base power and theme she based her name on. Given to her from her time trapped in the Eternal Epoch dimension. She can speed herself up or down, and any object(s) or person(s) in her line of sight. She can’rewind’ a person(s) or object(s) movement to up to a minute. 2.) Expounded attacks: A variation of her Time manipulation ability. Hourglass can manipulate the feeling of one of her attacks, and replay it rapidly. As such if she punches you once she can make it feel like 100 hits. She can do this for other physical sensations as well.   3.) Time Healing. A variation of her time manipulation ability. Hourglass may use her abilities on any wounds to regrow and repair damage. There seems to be a limit to this as Hourglass can not undo limb lose, or to heal internal injuries. 4.) Physical boost: As with all Meta Humans Hourglass has increased durability, endurance, strength, and speed. How much of this is related to her Time Manipulation ability is unclear 5.) Portal manipulation: Hourglass is able to open portals to the Eternal Enoch. It seems she can enter and exit the dimension at will. It seems as if she can be pulled into the dimension unwillingly as well. When asked  about this Hourglass simply replied “What can I say,when you time travel you learn to prank yourself in annoying ways”. PHYSICAL ABILITIES:   1.) Experienced Boxer. 2.) Basic fencing and swordplay skills. PERSONALITY AND TEMPERAMENT: Observed and documented by Archivist Kelsey Bernard.In my time spent with Hourglass one would label her as laid back. She relishes any moment to sit and rest, and will usually respond to any threats and calls to duty with a sigh and an eye roll. Despite this she seems to enjoy being active in her encounters with the League of Rouges.  More than that she also treats the villains she comes across with familiarity. In a battle I witnessed between the speedster Constance Motio AKA Motor, Hourglass would ask about her family and school life. Motor seemed happy for the talk, and even asked Hourglass for life advice. In turn Hourglass likes to involve the Reporter Cassandra Clark in these conversations as well, which leads me to Hourglass’ relationship with the reporter. Why is it heroes are always drawn to reporters? Is it like a universal law? Cassandra Clark, or as she likes to be called Cassie, was one of the first to discover Hourglass. The two seemed to form a friendship, and are never to far apart. I observed Hourglass spending much of her free time with Cassie, and despite officials of the Society asking her not to, will regularly involve Cassie in ongoing investigations. WEAKNESS: Does Orange soda count? Or as she calls it ‘Sody-pop’. Jeez showing your age a bit there Hourglass sweetie. It is fun to say though. Seriously she chugs those things. All the time. More professionally though, I have observed no physical weakness. You will need to refer to The Umber Knights Combat files. As to her powers I observed that the more she uses her time manipulation powers cracks of energy appear on her skin. She tends to not think ahead and is very reactionary in the moment.  It is easy to provoke her, and she is quick to loose her temper. Especially when dealing with Ricky Delaney, AKA Stalemate. Whenever Stalemate is involved she tends to act very petty and rash. She is also unable to assume a secret identity due to her anomalous appearance, though she does not seem to mind this. CLOSING NOTES: Archivist Kelsey Bernard. God am I glad no one really reads these general profiles. I wouldn't have nearly as much fun with them. Hourglass is hot and may I just say I totally ship her and Cassie. Am I allowed to say that? Imma do it anyways. Next time she comes in to collect her stipend I am going to ask her to go knock Randy’s head into the fridge.

[ittybittytatertot]

Former Villain Love Interest (FVLI, thank you anon) started heroing in high school (around 16 or so) and quickly gained fame and popularity and started working with established heroes. It was great! For a time. But then college came around, and courses were hard, making friends was harder. And he realized the super team was more like working in a company than being part of a family.

All that stress coincided with increasing fame, increasing scrutiny, and decreasing gratitude from the people he saved. And without the maturity to deal with all these pressures and to do the right thing even when it wasn’t winning him praise like it once had, he internalized all that negativity and decided he didn’t want to help others any more. Only himself.

He justified it, of course. He wasn’t being evil, he was just giving people what they deserved. So what if he smashed people’s cars for cutting him off? Not his problem if they can’t afford to fix it and can’t get to work now. So maybe he terrorized theater-goers because someone was talking during the movie. It’s not like he actually hurt anyone.

And that’s when another team came in. A team of villains either as petty and directionlessly angry as him or manipulative enough to prey on that anger for their own gain. They pushed his villainy from property damage and scare-tactics to robberies and physical attacks. By the time he was holding hollywood execs hostage because he hated the ending of a show, he’d completely lost perspective.

These aren’t things he’s proud of or tries to justify now. Well, all except one scheme. He’d dropped out of college at the encouragement of his villain friends and decided while he was at it to get rid of his debt. Collateral damage being his calling card these days, he smashed his way into the school and had just deleted his debt from school records when it occurred to him that he could easily do this for every student in the school. He could do something he hadn’t in a long time. Something nice. Something heroic.

But then Magneteer showed up. To this day he resents xem for taking that choice away from him. He doesn’t know if he would have done the good, Robin-hood thing. But he might have. And that good deed might have cut his time as a villain short, and he may have realized sooner that as bad as his life had been as this big important superhero, his life as a villain sucked just as much except now it was his fault.

Finally, one day (no thanks to Magneteer), he quits his villain team and tries to live life as a normal, average civilian. He re-applies to college, he gets a job, and he starts crushing a little bit on a new hero: the beautiful and powerful magician Incandesce. She reminds him of what heroes can be when they’re not vying for sponsorships and spotlights and fans. Good.

He makes up his mind to become a hero again, and try to undo the damage he did as a villain by taking down the team he worked with. But, his old identity carries too much baggage, and the other villains know who he is. So he starts from scratch and creates a whole new persona.

Incandesce is on a team, but a different smaller one than the one he’d been on. It’s a trio: Incandesce, Magneteer (ew), and Flux. He meets Flux early into his new career as a new hero, except when they meet he’s just a citizen and Flux is this funny, charming hero who for whatever reason takes a shine to FVLI. They develop a friendship surprisingly fast, and Flux comes over several times a month for video games and pizza. Flux keeps his real identity secret, but that’s okay FVLI is doing the same.

But of course FVLI’s first team up as a new hero isn’t his friend or his crush. It’s Magneteer. High and mighty, self-righteous, rude prick Magneteer. Except xe’s not really any of those things. Xe’s smart and competitive, and honestly if FVLI hadn’t been so blinded by hatred at first he might have noticed xe has the same sense of humor as Flux. He develops a begrudging respect and professional rivalry with Magneteer and end up teaming up with xem more often than any other hero.

And aside from how sometimes he and Flux will be talking and suddenly leaning closer before they both pull back out of embarrassment, FVLI’s life is good. He’s finally making a positive change. Until the villains show back up in his life and threaten to reveal his secrets to the world.

So yeah that’s his basic plot (you can probably guess where it goes after that). I’m going to name him once I figure out powers. I want to think of something versatile enough that someone could make three super identities with it without it being obvious he’s the same person.