#so now ive been looking st things a little deeper than i normally would instead of brushing them off

[maraeffect]

also, i recently asked my tarot deck about guardian angels and if i have any. and since then, i've been seeing 444 SO MUCH. over the past year or 2, i've noticed seeing 444 more than any other angel number. really seeing it almost exclusively. but! it's ramped up SO much lately. i really don't think it's a coincidence idk. literally as soon as i start digging deeper into spiritualism, death, and the afterlife...i start seeing little signs from the universe everywhere. it's odd.

[trillian-anders]

chambers - iv

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: violence, angst, slow burn

word count: 4230

Description: Post-Endgame. Steve Rogers has passed away from old age. The one remarkable thing is that no one knew his heart would be in the condition it was. He was able to save one more life. After receiving his heart, strange things start happening. Including something that would change your life forever. (Very loosely based on the Netflix series of the same name.)

This wasn’t the first time you’ve seen him. Sitting there in the dark. A watchman. He’s gone from a ghost to a solid figure, sitting by your bed in the dark. Hair blond, face without wrinkles, bent over. Elbows resting on knees, hands clasped. Staring. It was unnerving. Usually it was just flashes, you’d look in the mirror and he’d be standing there instead of you, or he’d be standing around in the corner of your eye. But this was new. He was just sitting there, staring at you. Thinking. 

Judging?

Not speaking. 

You had to be going crazy. This seemed insane. This was something outside the realm of living through his memories and feeling the roller coaster of emotions you were becoming accustomed to. Your legs didn’t hurt too badly anymore, they were still a little stiff, but they didn’t hurt anymore. You swung them over the side of the bed, coming to face him. Were you hallucinating? You both held eye contact for a minute. 

“Steve?” Your raspy voice asked. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards and then he was gone. Next blink, just gone. You sighed heavily, hanging your head, “FRIDAY, open the blinds please?” The mechanical blinds rose, revealing a muted blue sky, the sun just breaking over the horizon. Your toes touched the ground, feeling the heated floors as you stood to stretch your arms above your head, feeling your body crack and groan. 

You lifted your phone from the nightstand, checking the time. It was still early, but most of the agents would have already been starting their morning drills, including Bucky and Sam. Wanda should be waking up soon then if she wasn’t already awake. 

You made your way to your ensuite, brushing your teeth, and staring at your face in the mirror. The serum must be doing something to you because the dark circles under your eyes were gone and your skin looked perfectly dewey. The whites of your eyes were whiter and when you looked back down at your recently bruised and broken legs you couldn’t even tell anything had been wrong with them in the first place. But that could also be due to the cradle. 

The bed suddenly felt way too soft, you’d noticed. You’d never thought about it before. Your bed at home was cheap, the mattress springy and almost uncomfortable, but it was close to what Steve used to sleep on while in the military. What he slept on during missions. The beds on the quinjet. You might try sleeping on the floor tonight. 

You changed your clothes, today you’d be getting into the MRI, testing to see how your brain reacts to certain stimuli, seeing what happens to your brain when a memory comes on. So far there are no real negative consequences physically to the seizures you have when a memory comes on, but that doesn’t mean that one day something bad won’t happen. This is just to make sure. 

Now that your legs were healed you were itching to run again, and you figured if you paid attention to pace, maybe it’ll be okay. A pair of stretchy yoga pants and large grey Avenger’s issued sweatshirt later you were stepping outside into the crisp morning air. Sam and Bucky stretching off to the right. “Hey kid, how’s it going?” Sam asked, smiling. 

You cautiously walked over to join them, returning his smile, “Better, for sure.” You smiled at Bucky, he gave a forced one in return. He was trying. “A little stiff, but I’m itching to run again so…” Sam pursed his lips,

“If you’re gonna run you’ve gotta take it easy, you can keep pace with me,” He jerked a thumb over at Bucky, “This fool runs at top speed so just make sure you don’t try to keep up with him.” That’s right. Bucky had some sort of super serum too. Not the same as Steve’s but Hydra’s own cocktail. The three of you took off, Sam jogging at a leisurely pace, easing you into it. You kept a steady pace next to him, watching the brown haired super-soldier’s pace slowly pick up before he was lapping the two of you, easily. 

“They’re giving me an MRI today,” You told Sam when he asked, “Hopefully the seizures are still not doing anything to my brain….” 

“I’m sure Bruce will be able to find some way to keep the seizures from happening at all,” Sam said. You stopped running back where you started, not even close to breaking a sweat, but your nerves soothed for the moment, Sam slowing down to a stop a few feet away. 

“Can I ask you something?” You placed your hands on your hips, breathing regulating. 

“Anything kid.” Sam walked closer to you, both of your eyes shifting over to watch Bucky on the other side of the track, looming closer.

“I know you still go to the VA every week,” You said, “And I get it’s weird and like… I’ve never technically been to…” You couldn’t meet his eyes. “I’ve never technically been to war, but…” 

“What exactly is going on with these memories?” He asked you. You’d explained it to them very vaguely before, but Bucky and Sam didn’t really know the depth of it. Not at all. 

You felt tears prickle in the corners of your eyes, hands coming up to rub them away, “It’s like I lived two lives, Sam.” You sighed heavily, “I’ve never technically been to war, but I can still smell…” You rolled your eyes up to the sky, trying hard not to cry. How did Steve not cry all the fucking time? 

“Hey,” He said softly, walking closer to you, placing his hands on your shoulders. “I get it.” He soothed, “Well… I don’t get the whole ‘two lives’ thing, but the PTSD I get. If you want to come next time…” His voice trailed off as Bucky came to a stop next to the two of you, “You’re more than welcome to join us.” You turned your body away from Bucky, wiping the tears out of your eyes. 

“Join us where?” Bucky asked, stopping to take a long pull from his water bottle. You looked at Sam hesitantly and he nodded, turning back towards Bucky.

“We’ll talk about it later.” He explained, “What time do you have to meet Bruce Y/N?” You checked your phone, 

“Soon, I should probably eat and shower.” You smiled at the both of them, “I’ll see you guys soon yeah?” Bucky nodded tersely. He was going to be helping during the MRI even though you knew he really didn’t want to. 

“If you need anything...” Sam didn’t finish the sentence but it went unsaid. If you need anything, I’m here for you. I’ll be here for you like I was here for Steve. But maybe that was being too hopeful. 

Bucky watched you go in curiosity. “What was that about?” He asked Sam, taking another drink. 

“She’s struggling man.” Bucky scoffed, 

“That’s obvious.” Sam glared at him. 

“I think this whole memory thing goes deeper than just her remembering things Steve has done.” He explained, “She asked me to go to the VA.” Bucky was taken aback at that. 

“She’s not military.” It was a simple explanation. “She can’t go.” 

“Bucky,” Sam sighed, “She’s struggling with this and if she has Steve’s memories, those memories include war. A war she didn’t choose to fight, missions she didn’t choose to go on. She’s scared and uncomfortable with what she’s seeing I’m sure.” Bucky wrestled with this for a moment, he knew Sam was right, but honestly the VA was something he cherished wholeheartedly. It was something he had with Sam outside of the missions and training. Something real. Something normal. And he didn’t know if he was comfortable with her interloping on that. 

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Wanda asked you over a bowl of cereal. You smiled at your friend, reaching in the fridge for the milk to make your own bowl of cereal. 

“A lot better, honestly.” You explained, “Had a nice jog with Sam this morning, my legs feel great.” 

“Are you ready for today?” She was scrolling through her phone, looking at dessert recipes. 

“Maybe?” You sighed, spooning some cereal into your mouth. “I don’t know. I usually have at least one memory a day, but I’m afraid of having a bad one.” Wanda looked up at you from her phone, 

“Do you have bad memories often?” She asked. 

“It depends.” You stared down at the cheerios. “Depends on what triggers it.” 

An hour later you were in scrubs, your hair tied up, laying on the table and ready to go into the machine. You tried not to think about how loud and claustrophobic it all was going to be as Bruce prepped you. 

“You’ll see a series of images first,” He explains, “After that we will begin with Bucky talking to you, just very candidly about a couple of good memories he has of Steve.” He probably hates you for this. It was hard to swallow that thought. You could see Wanda, Sam, and Bucky standing on the other side of the glass, chatting idly as Bruce was securing some sort of cage around your head to keep you from moving. “If it gets to be too much and you need to take a break just let us know and I’ll pull you out okay?” He was reassuring and you could almost feel comfortable if your heart wasn’t beating out of your chest. 

The bed slowly entered the machine and there was a pause as it clicked to life around you, loudly. Was it the machine or your heart beating that loud? 

“Are you okay?” Bruce asked, his voice coming out of the speaker. 

“Yeah I’m fine.” You took a deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth, closing your eyes for a minute. 

“Okay so we are going to start with the first picture.” And up it went. Coney Island. The Cyclone at Coney Island. 

“I’m not doing it!” You exclaimed. “You can go alone!” You were a teenager now, Bucky was a teenager now. Bright blue eyes, wide smile, a pimple on the right side of his chin, but otherwise unblemished. Happy. 

“C’mon pal,” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, “You owe me one anyway.” You felt yourself scoff, turning towards him. 

“You just spent 30 minutes trying to win a stuffed bear for Dot,” You laughed, “If anything, you owe me.” This was one of the first double dates of many you and Bucky had gone on. Both of you fifteen years old, saved allowances in your pockets, Bucky got two girls Dot and Moira to come out to Coney Island with you. You’d been riding rides and eating hot dogs all day. Bucky just spent your last three dollars winning Dot a bear, Moira ignored you the whole day, and you were feeling kinda low. The last thing you wanted to do was ride the Cyclone. 

“C’mon, we have one ticket each left, let’s ride it and then we can figure out a way home.” It was hard to say no to Bucky, especially when he was looking at you like that. You rolled your eyes,

“Fine.” A large grin stretching out on his face, hands clapping together, “Alright, let’s go!” His large hand wrapped around yours pulling you into the queue. A quick trip on the Cyclone found your head in the trash can beside it, small body heaving, the hot dog and cotton candy coming up just as easily as it had gone down. What a waste. 

You came back to consciousness dry heaving, body tilted to the side as Wanda rubbed your back. “Are you gonna throw up?” She asked, Sam was holding a bucket under your head. 

“What was it?” Bruce asked. Bucky stood off to the side, unsure what to do. You took a sip from the water bottle Sam offered you, catching your breath. 

“Threw up after riding the cyclone,” You explained, eyes flickering over to Bucky, then back to Bruce. “Sorry.” 

“No, it’s fine.” Bruce said, typing something into the computer. “Are you okay to go again?” 

“You’re not gonna give her a break?” Bucky asked, turning toward the Hulk. Bruce looked from Bucky and back to you. Sam left the trash can on the floor by your head, just in case, but still stood nearby with your water bottle. 

“Do you need a break Y/N?” Wanda helped you roll back onto the table as you caught your breath. Your throat hurt and you still felt the lingering nausea, 

“No, I’m okay.” You said, “We can continue.” 

The next picture didn’t do anything. It was your own apartment. The one you hadn’t been to all week. The third picture was a drawing you knew Steve had done, a memory of sitting in a cafe, the taste of coffee on your tongue, but no seizure. 

The fourth picture sent you reeling, breath coming out in heavy pants as the machine closed around you, 

“Bucky!” You screamed, arm reaching out to him, watching him hang from the side of the train. The fucking train. How do you get him out of this? How can you save him this time? You couldn’t reach any farther without falling out yourself, his hand not coming close to yours, not close enough. Fuck. 

His watery blue eyes met yours and your heart stopped in your chest, his arm swinging up for one last attempt to grab yours that’s when the bar he was holding onto broke. That’s when it always broke, that’s when you lost him every time. “Bucky!” You screamed again as you watched him fall from sight, the train still rushing onto its destination.

“Get me out!” You yelled. The machine was quickly turned off, you were wrestling with the cage around your face, breaking it accidentally, tossing it to the side. Tears blurred your vision as you sat on the edge of the bed. 

“Y/N calm down!” Wanda’s hands gripped your upper arms, stalling you from moving. You choked on your tears, sinking your head down onto her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around you. You felt so embarrassed, face hot with it, but you couldn’t stop crying. You knew it was ridiculous. He was standing right there. He’s not actually dead. But in that moment Steve didn’t know that. In that moment he just lost the one person who had been by his side through everything and you lost him too. 

“Alright kid, it’s okay.” Sam’s voice was calm, his hand rubbing your back as you tried to control your breathing, your eyes peeking over Wanda’s shoulder to steal a glance at Bucky. He’s right there. He’s alive. He’s safe. He wasn’t looking at you, he was looking at the floor, fists clenched. And you watched him leave the room. 

“What happened?” Bruce asked. 

“Give her a minute man.” Sam said, your tears were drying up but your heart still felt empty. You wanted Bucky, but it wasn’t an option. 

“He fell from the train.” You explained softly, voice thick and watery. “I can never save him.” It didn’t need to be explained who ‘he’ was. They all knew and in that moment what you had been going through was shared with the group. Wanda gripped you a little tighter, 

“Let’s finish for the day,” She told Bruce, “We can pick back up tomorrow or something.” Bruce nodded, shutting the machine off. 

“Anyone up for Chinese?” 

Bucky didn’t expect that viceral of a reaction. The dry heaving after experiencing a memory of riding the Cyclone, one that he remembered well. Standing by Steve as he upchucked into the trash can, his vomit was tinted pink from cotton candy. Her experiencing him falling from the bridge. The screaming that started before she was even fully out. A blood curdling scream of his name, loud and clear over the microphone that was wired into the machine. Fuck. 

He bruised his knuckles because he didn't wrap them before going in on the punching bag. Something had to break the tension he was feeling in his shoulders. His left one was aching with a phantom pain that almost never went away. The ache of a limb lost. The memories of being half conscious as they dragged his body from the ravine. Where they cut the rest of his arm off in order to attach the metal one to his shoulder. He shudders with the thought. 

Sam was good at distractions. It was a talent, truly. Multiple Chinese takeout containers were littered across the coffee table, reruns of Masterchef playing across the screen as you, Sam, Wanda, Bruce, and later on Bucky, eat in almost silence. 

Bucky was freshly showered, taking a seat next to the recliner that he had placed you in the day before, the one you were currently sitting in, before making himself a plate and sitting back to watch Gordon Ramsay expertly debone a fish. 

“Could you debone a fish Buck?” Sam asked, this is what he’s good at. Bucky scoffed, slurping up his lo mien. 

“Of course I can, what kind of question is that?” Sam smirked, looking over at you and then back to Bucky. 

“Yeah, but not as good as Ramsay, look at the dude.” He gestured towards the man laying out the portioned filets and perfectly removed bones. Bucky rolled his eyes, having shoveled the first half of his plate into his mouth so fast you hadn’t even seen him eat. 

“I can debone a fish twice as fast.” Sam scoffed. He was challenging him. 

“There’s a salmon in the fridge with your name on it buddy.” Bucky glared at him, you all knew what Sam was doing, but none of you were fighting it. 

“Start timing me.” The plates were abandoned and the group of you circled around the kitchen counter, Wanda holding her phone up to record, Sam using the stopwatch on his phone to time him. The whole fish laying out on the butchers block in front of him, knives at the ready. It was possibly the hottest thing you’ve ever seen in your entire life. 

Bucky was a good cook. A decent cook you should say. Steve, when he was a kid and they were living in that shitty apartment in Brooklyn, Bucky would make stews out of almost nothing. A trick he had learned from his Ma. That you remembered from one time you were making a stew and freezing out portions to be more cost effective. You remembered the smell of their kitchen, Bucky with an apron tied around his waist, still in his grey jumpsuit from the canary. Youthful and sweet. His short hair curled on his forehead from the steam coming from the pot. 

He deboned the fish and portioned it out in less than a minute. The food scale in the kitchen weighed each portion as an even 3.8 oz. 

“Well I guess we are having that for dinner tomorrow night.” Sam joked. He elbowed his friend grinning, Bucky looked so proud of himself. He should be. It was an interesting party trick. His dexterity with knives were not just for disarming people, but it could be used for something more wholesome. 

The rest of dinner was eaten in a content silence, Sam booing when the one person he liked on the show accidentally burned their fish and was eliminated. 

You liked this. It was better than going to work and coming home to an empty house. Eating dinner alone and laying in bed scrolling through your phone until you fell asleep. Today was tiring though and you couldn’t wait to go to bed as you helped everyone clean up the mess. There were no leftovers thanks to Bruce who you were sure could put any restaurant out of business just from the sheer volume he could eat now, so it was mainly packing up containers and tossing them. Washing plates. 

“So why don’t we take a break from the prodding and you come to the VA tomorrow?” Sam asked, handing you a plate to place in the dishwasher. Your eyes flickered over to Bucky who was wrapping up the trash to throw down the chute. You know he can hear you, but he’s not making any motion to let you know. 

“If that’s alright?” You ask, watching Bucky’s retreating back. 

“Hey,” Sam brings your attention back to him, “You know how hard this is for him, but it’s hard for you too. You can’t just sacrifice your feelings for someone else. He’ll be okay.” You wanted to believe him. You really did, but everything in your body is telling you Bucky wasn’t okay. It was hard. 

“I’ll think about it,” You sighed, turning to close to dishwasher, “I’ll see you in the morning?” Sam smiled, hugging you softly. 

“Sleep well kid,” Wanda had already retired to her room and Bruce to his, which left you crossing an empty common room back to your own bedroom. 

Bucky was leaning against your door, the dim light from your room illuminating him. You were hesitant to move any closer. He looked at you silently for a moment, gesturing into the room, “Can we talk?” Your heart skipped a beat, 

“Yeah,” You said, “Of course.” 

You’ve been in this room a couple days now, the neutral tones making it look more like a hotel room than a person’s actual bedroom but you weren’t sure how long you’d be staying so personal effects weren’t really a high priority. You had a couple pictures of family, but most surfaces stayed barren. A well worn college sweatshirt was tossed on your bed, but Bucky surely noticed that the room didn’t look typically lived in. 

He sat himself in the chair that Wanda had previously used beside your bed. The one Steve was sitting in this morning. You almost stopped him from sitting there, as though you were waiting for Steve to come take a spot there to watch the conversation that was about to happen. You were unsure whether or not you should close the door, but seeing as you were the only person residing in this hallway you decided to leave it open. 

You sat on the bed across from him, waiting for him to speak. The two of you awkwardly sat in silence for a minute, Bucky’s mouth opening and closing a few times before he began, 

“I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick to you,” He started. 

“I understand, it’s okay.” You shifted nervously in your seat. His eyes met yours, 

“It’s not okay, you didn’t deserve it.” He tugs his bottom lip between his teeth nervously, “All of this is out of your control and instead of trying to help you, I’ve been keeping my distance and I’ve been relatively cold.” 

“You made me breakfast yesterday and helped me use the bathroom.” You offered. His lips turned into a terse smile, 

“That doesn’t exactly make me a good person, doll.” Doll. Term of endearment or habit? He sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes, “Today… in the MRI machine…” Your throat almost felt as though it was closing up, the air thick in the room. It was hard to breathe. “You feel everything he felt?” He asks. 

“I’ve told you that before I…” You trailed off, picking at a stray string on the pillowcase. 

“You said you could feel the same emotions he felt, but not like…” The scream was echoing in his head, the bloodcurdling scream, “It’s intense?” His chapped bottom lip bled with how hard he bit it. 

“It’s like…” You stood from the bed, creating some distance because he was all of a sudden too close. “It’s like losing you for real.” You explained. His head snapped up to look at you and you felt his eyes boring into your back. “Steve’s emotions and memories… everything he’s ever felt.” You started, “It’s like I know all of you already and none of you know me. I feel…” Your face flushed with embarrassment, growing hot under the pressure. 

“Like I’m your best friend?” You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, turning back to him. His expression unclear to you. 

“LIke you’re my best friend,” You felt tears well up in your eyes. You were so sick of fucking crying. “And you want nothing to do with me.” Coming out as a whisper. Bucky sat back in the chair, studying you for a minute. 

“This is hard,” His eyes rolled up to the ceiling, “So fucking hard.”

“I know,” You cried, wiping at your eyes quickly trying to stop the tears, “I know.” He stood from his chair and slowly made his way over to you, wrapping his arms around your body and pulling you tightly to his chest. Fuck if this isn’t what you so desperately needed, your arms wrapping around him just as tightly. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered into your hair, “I’m really going to try, I promise.” Your hands were clenched tightly in his t shirt, tears dampening the chest. 

“I don’t know what to do.” You admitted, muffled against him. 

“Come to the VA tomorrow,” He offered, “We can start there.” 

We can start there. 

.

.

.

TAGLIST //  @bookish-shristi​ @nutellakirb​ @witch-of-letters​ @torntaltos​ @emotionallysalty​ @gemgemswift @albinotigerpython​

[filmfanatic82]

AO3 Link (HERE)

Chapter 14: O (IV)

Why is this so freakin’ hard?

Everyone else makes it look so easy. They laugh and smile as if they don’t have a single care in the entire world. No worries. No second guesses. No invisible itch that they can’t seem to scratch.

They seem to just exist.

But how?

How does everyone else do it?  

Octavia takes a long sip of her beer as she wanders aimlessly throughout the sea of seemingly happy and drunken partygoers. She’s been meandering from room to room for the last hour or so, not sure where to go or who to hang out with. Clarke and Lexa are nowhere to be found and Rae…

Octavia stops for a moment and exhales as a sudden realization crashes down upon her, bringing forth a new wave of emotions. Raw and powerful. She tries to inhale but it’s no use. It’s as if her body has forgotten how to function.   

Raven Reyes. 

Fuck.

She wants Raven. 

Octavia starts to move once again. This time, though, with a newfound purpose. She chugs her beer as she wades through the crowds and then cuts through the kitchen, exchanging it out for a fresh one as she does. 

Fuck.

Why hadn’t it occurred to her before?

It’s Raven.

It’s always been Raven.

Octavia pounds back another long swig and swallows it down along with her bubbling emotions. Her eyes scan the surrounding crowds for any signs whatsoever of the older Latina but only is met with foreign glances instead.  

But what she wants to be with Raven, then does that make her?

Gay? 

Bi?

Something else?

Octavia has never attempted to dive too deep into her own sexuality before. In all honesty, up until this very moment, she hasn’t given much thought to it at all. Those feelings-- or any feelings even remotely even within those realms-- were always just non-existent for Octavia. Like a puzzle piece that life conveniently forgot to give her. 

But now…

Fuck.

Now, it’s nothing but all-consuming.

Octavia finishes her second beer in record time. She places it down on the nearby fireplace mantel and then lets out another, deeper breath of air. Her heart pounds against her ribcage, all but drowning out the rest of the sounds around her.

But what if Raven doesn’t feel the same way?

She’s with Finn.

Right?

And before Finn, there had been a brief stint with a douchebag of a guy from St. Mark’s named Wick. 

Octavia runs her hands over her ponytail as her skin starts to itch once again. It’s faint, but it’s there nonetheless. 

God, where’s Clarke?

Clarke would know…  

She always knows.

Especially when it comes to Raven.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

She needs air.

Octavia doubles back through the kitchen, making a beeline straight for the sliding glass door. She bursts out of the house and doesn’t stop until she reaches the far edges of the yard. 

“Fuck,” Octavia exhales and then sucks in a fresh breath of crisp night air.

“O?”

Octavia practically jumps out of her skin at the sound of Raven’s voice. She turns around and is met with a familiar set of all-knowing chocolate brown eyes staring right back at her. 

Fuck.

Raven sits alone against the base of a trunk of a massive oak tree nursing a beer. Although heavily cloaked by shadow of the night, Octavia swears there's a slight hint of tears in the corner of her eyes, ready to start falling at any given second.

It’s got to be the moonlight… 

The moonlight and her eyes playing tricks on her. 

That’s it.

It can’t be tears. 

Not twice in one day.

“Rae. Shit,” O says collecting herself. She moves over towards the tree and takes a seat next to Raven. “Why aren’t you inside?”

“Could ask you the same thing,” Raven responds and there’s something unusual about the tone in her voice that throws Octavia for a loop. It lacks the normal cool confidence and swagger that the taller Latina is notorious for. 

“Where’s Clarke?” 

“Last I left her she was getting up close and personal with Senor Cuervos.”

“Body shots?”

“Oh yeah,” Raven responds widening her eyes a bit on the last word for added effect. She takes a sip of her beer and lets out an unorthodox heavy sigh. It’s all so odd to Octavia. As if for the first time ever she is getting a glimpse into the stripped-down version of Raven. The one that spends most of the time hiding behind a rock-solid facade of sarcastic remarks and cocky smirks. “And Finn was first one in line.”

“Finn?” 

Raven throws back another swig and gives the slightest of nods. “Finn.”

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Depend on what you’re asking.”

“Finn… Did you guys… Did you and him…”

“Breakup?” Raven finishes Octavia’s words for her without even missing a beat. “Yeah. We did.” 

“Oh…”

“Yeah. I told him something that I recently discovered about myself and let’s just say that he didn’t take it all that well.”

Octavia stares at Raven for a moment or two, desperate for an inkling-- even the smallest of ones-- as to what Raven is referring to.

Discovered?

Raven discovered something?

Something about herself? 

Something that made Finn break up with her?

Could it be…

Octavia sinks her teeth into her bottom lip as the next question bubbles up from deep inside of her. It lingers on the tip of her tongue, begging to be asked, but she hesitates, allowing her overwhelming sense of fear to take control instead. 

“O?”

“Huh?” Octavia snaps out of her thoughts and suddenly realizes that Raven is staring at her. “Sorry, I—“

“I’m gay. That’s what I told Finn.”

Those two words all but blindside Octavia, knocking the wind right out of her lungs. Her mind fights against a sudden avalanche of conflicting thoughts, desperate to stay within the moment. 

“How?” The question tumbles out of Octavia’s mouth before she realizes what exactly she’s saying. 

“How?” Raven asks back with a harsh laugh. 

“That’s not… I meant… How did you… ” Octavia shrinks a bit into herself as her cheeks ignite with a fierce scarlet hue. “How did you know?”

Raven shrugs. “Not sure really. I guess the signs were there all along. Like I never enjoyed making out with Finn. It always just felt like a chore to me. Like something I was supposed to do, you know?” 

“Yeah… I do.” Octavia nods.

“But things didn’t really click into place until roughly about a month ago. The morning after Clarke’s birthday. I woke up and discovered my arms were wrapped around this amazingly wonderful human being and I don’t know… It just felt so right. Like it was the missing puzzle piece that I didn’t know I was looking for. And I knew. Then and there. That that’s who I wanted to be with.” 

Octavia swallows dump the dry lump of emotions rising in the back of her throat as her heart begins to race once again. She can feel Raven’s eye upon her… Studying her. Waiting for a sign-- any sign-- that she hasn’t just royally fucked everything up. 

Another moment or two of silence passes, then--

“Please say something,” Raven quietly whispers, voice quivering. “I need you to please say--” 

Octavia surges forward and without a second of hesitation, she kisses Raven. 

__________

O stirs awake to the foreign sensation of two arms wrapped around their torso. It’s a warmth that they’ve all but forgotten can exist within their world. The one that they’ve tried so hard for years to replicate with Lincoln, but never could quite achieve. 

They lean into it, desperate for the moment not to end.  

It’s Raven.

It has always been Raven 

Their missing puzzle piece.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

A sudden chorus of angry alarms cuts through the silence. O springs up, jostling Raven in the process, and scrambles out of the bed.

“O…”

“What’s wrong? Why is it beeping? Should I get a nurse? I should get a nurse.” O runs their hands over their topknot as they pace back and forth between the machines and the doorway. 

“O, stop…” Raven says again. 

“It’s not stopping. Why isn’t it stopping? Fuck.” O stops pacing and starts to check out the machines. “Did I loosen something? Like a wire? Shit. I pulled out a wire.”

“Stop!” O freezes, thrown off by the forcefulness in Raven’s voice. “The IV bag is empty. See?”

O’s eyes roam upwards towards the empty bag dangling at the top of the pole and then back down at the corresponding machine. A little red IV icon flashes on its monitor. 

“Push the green button twice and it’ll stop,” Raven says as she struggles to push herself up a bit in the bed. 

O does as they’re told and the alarm immediately stops. “How?”

Raven lets out a light laugh. “Haven’t you figured that out already? I’m observant, O. I pick up on things that others don’t.” 

“Sorry,” O sheepishly replies, curling back up in the nearby armchair. “I just--”

“Freaked out?”

“Yeah.”

Raven nods. “Glad to see some things never change.”

O’s stomach churches as the hidden meaning of the comment settles within them. They feel Raven’s eyes upon them… Studying them. Waiting for a response-- any response-- to the glaring elephant lurking within the room.

“Rae, I…” O stutters, avoiding eye contact at all costs. They can’t. Not right now. All it will take is one glimpse of those chocolate brown eyes and they’ll finally crumble from the weight of it all. 

They freak out.

That’s what they do. 

Always has.

And Raven knows it.

“Sorry,” Raven cuts them off. “Forget I said anything.”

O remains fixated on their beat-up pair of converse on their feet. They pick at the cracks in the rub soles, desperate for the distraction. They suddenly don’t know what to say. There’s a part of them that wants to lay it all out for Raven to see. Everything. Every last horrible indiscretion and scar from the past few years. 

But the underlying fear is just too overwhelming. 

Where do they even start? 

And what if…

What if it isn't enough? 

If their explanation falls short.

And they lose the only person that’s ever loved them… The real them.

“No. I… I deserve that.”

“O…”

“I deserve a lot more than that.” O blinks back tears forming in the corners of their eyes. They still can’t bring themselves to look up. 

It’s too much.

“I should’ve known better,” Raven says and O’s heart cracks at the raw vulnerability within those words. “I pushed you.” 

“You didn’t do anything.” 

“Not according to everyone else, remember? Bellamy… And Clarke… Hell, I know Mama G even blames me a little bit even though she’ll never admit to it.” 

“They shouldn’t,” O responds. “I kissed you.”

“Yeah, but I knew you weren’t ready. And I should’ve stopped, but…”

“But?”

“But I didn’t want to.”

O takes a deep breath and then musters up the courage to finally look up at Raven. “Me either.” 

Raven nods as a bittersweet smile slides across her lips. “I know.” 

“Rae, I--”

“I meant what I said. Earlier. About it being nice to finally meet the real you.” 

“Yeah?” O asks, trying their best to hide the utter unsureness in their voice. 

“Yeah.”

“Thanks.” O’s cheeks ignite as their hand wanders up to the back of their head, rubbing the soft pelt of stubble up and down. It’s oddly comforting like an invisible reassurance that they do in fact exist. 

“You’ve gotta let everyone else see you too.” 

“But…”

“No buts… And no more hiding.” 

“I can’t… I…”

“Yes, you can.”

“But what if they don’t… If they don’t accept it?”

“It’s not about them, O,” Raven says doubling down the intensity radiating from her eyes. “It’s about you.”

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Caramel Skin Under A Purple Rain prt 4 full draft

Coming out of his heat, Lance slept through the following quintant and a half. While his husband slept, Keith changed their sheets and found up the few blankets that hadn't made it onto their bed. Unlike Lance, Keith still felt the lingering urges from the past week, jerking off more than once in the shower to calm himself back down. Cleaning through the bathroom, he was glad that no one had seen the mess they'd made. The counter doors, shower wall and bathroom door had taken the brunt of their passions... which left him blushing like mad. If anyone had seen them... he would have clawed their eyes out. That side of Lance belonged purely to him, and now that they'd been through their first heat together, he had a much better idea of how to care for his husband in the future. He didn't know how much Lance remembered of it, but if he'd had access to an IV line and vitamin injections instead of pills, he would have been able to keep on top of Lance's needs far better... maybe he could get some stewed fruit or puddings, something easily swallowed that wouldn't hurt lance's throat. They also needed to get a fan for their room. The outpost might have built in air vents, but that didn't help when Lance was freezing cold and had them buried under a mountain of blankets with Keith boiling his arse off.

  Hearing a thud from their bedroom, it was followed by a weak calling of his name. Thinking Lance would sleep through his shower, Keith grabbed his towel and rushed into their bedroom. Laying on the floor, Lance was tangled up in their blankets, struggling weakly to untangle himself. The moment of worry at the sound of the "thud" passed in an instant. Lance looking adorable with his tussled bed head, and pouty lips. Sucking his lips in to avoid laughing at his husband, Keith stared down at him as Lance's pout only grew

"Help?"

"What happened?"

"I needed to pee... my legs didn't get the memo"

Lance's voice was husky from over use. Having given up on escaping the blankets, he played with the hem of the blankets as he broke his gaze

"Alright, babe. Let's get you up. How do you feel?"

"Hot... tired... sick... grateful"

  Pulling Lance free from their blankets, he hiked his husband up to his chest. Lance wrapping an arm around his shoulders

"Grateful?"

Lance nodded with a sign

"That you were here... are here... it must have been bad for you"

Kissing Lance's hair, what he'd gone through was nothing when compared to what his husband had been through

"I'm fine. A little tired, and a bit drained, but I'm alright. How much do you remember?"

"Most of it... I knew you were there, talking to me"

Sitting Lance down on the bathroom counter, Keith went to leave so his love could have some privacy. Wrapping his arms around his chest, Keith was pulled back against Lance. He felt weirdly glowey at his husband's words... A stupid, ridiculous happy glow

"I know... my heat's nearly all gone, but can we...?"

  Turning in his hold, Keith cupped Lance's face. His big blue eyes staring into his own

"Babe, are you sure? You don't feel feverish and you don't smell as sweet now"

"I can feel it in my veins still... I... sometimes feel it after... but I ignore it... because I'm usually so miserable. I want to have sex with you while I'm mostly me..."

"I thought you needed to pee?"

Lance blushed lightly, biting his lip before giving a half shake of his head and replying

"I didn't want to say I'm horny... I'm sorry... I don't want to force you..."

"You're not forcing me. I'm worried about you. You've slept for most of the last two quintants. You're dehydrated and haven't eaten"

"Forget I said anything... you've done... enough for me. I shouldn't be asking for anything more"

  Lance's scent filled with rejection, his whole frame slumping down. Keith wasn't trying to reject him. He'd simply thought that Lance had been completely open about his heat and that when it ended, that was it. He didn't want Lance thinking that he needed to give him sex as some kind of reward for being there

"That's not it at all. I'm worried. It was intense on your body"

"Is that why? Are you disgusted? By me and this? I... I shouldn't have made you come home"

"No. Hey, no. You're my husband. You'll always be my husband. I love that you want me. If you want me, you have me, but we're taking it slow. Then you're going to take a bath with me, and have something to eat and drink"

"Sounds good... my throat really hurts"

"Sounds to me like I need to kiss it better?"

"Mmm... my neck hurts too..."

Guilt tugged at Keith's heart. He'd cleaned the back of Lance's neck up where he'd bit him, dressing the site with a waterproof bandage, but he'd left for the last few days because he didn't want to disturb Lance's rest

"That's my fault. I... bit you. On the first night when I came. I'm so sorry. I cleaned it up and I don't know why I bit you, but there was blood..."

  Running his hands up from where they rested near the small of Keith's back, Lance brought them forward and up along his chest them further up to cup his face

"Keith... it's ok. I know how instincts get... I know if you hurt me, you feel it a million times deeper than anyone else... Now please, I want my husband"

"Promise you'll tell me if it hurts. We had a lot of sex"

"My body is ready... I'm already wet for you"

"You're a fucking minx"

Reaching up his left hand, Lance brushed his hair back from his face. Patting the spot down with a soft smile

"And you... You're the most amazing husband... I know I was out of it, but I heard you... I heard what you said... I love you, my mullet haired idiot"

Huffing Keith tried to hide how happy his accidental husband made him. Lance's love was so pure and all encompassing. It'd been lost on Allura, or rather Allura's loss. How she didn't fall completely head of heels for Lance he didn't know

"You're the idiot. All I've got is these two hands to protect you... but I can't protect you from this"

  Moving, Lance took Keith's hands in his

"You have these two hands to protect everything that I hold dear. You use these two hands to come home to me, ok? We need to talk, but right now I need you to take this pain away"

Keith's bottom lip wobbled. The thought of leaving again hitting him like a Galra cruiser in the part of his brain filled with his abandonment issues and feelings of short comings

"I don't want to leave you... let me take you back to bed and do this properly"

"Such a romantic"

Bopping Lance's nose, Lance made to bite at his finger

"Only for you"

  Laying Lance out on their bed, his husband was a masterpiece. His body littered with the various marks Keith had left across his skin over the last moment. Some had already healed and were gone, like where his fingernails had broken the soft skin over Lance's jutting hips, the smaller love nips had stayed. He'd lost weight again, even more over the movement. He'd have to spend the next movement fattening his husband up again.

   *

As Keith bottomed out, Lance's back arched as he moaned in pleasure. His long legs wrapping around Keith's waist as his husband slowly drew back and thrust back in carefully, a jolt running through his body as his husband hit his sweet spot. After a movement of this, he should have been tired of sex. He was tired of sex. He was tired of everything in general, yet when Keith had come to rescue his dumb arse from the floor, the sight of his mostly naked lover had him growing wetter than when he'd woken from dreaming of his lover. Keith had been so good to him. Way too good to him. Far better than he believed he deserved. Having been able to finally put it all into words, he found himself unable to convey the magnitude of his gratefulness. The man between his legs truely loved him. Truely treasured him.

  Riding him slowly, Keith's hands roamed across his body. Occasionally he'd stop to press a kiss to some part he'd deemed of his affections deserving, but for the most part Keith had a weird smiling sex face on that was adorable. It was so far gone from the shyness he'd held when losing his virginity. He'd grown confident. He loved to touch as much of Lance's body as he could. Keith's warm hands felt as if he was wiping away the memories of everyone else who'd touched his skin. No longer did he jump or flinch when Keith would whisper near his ear. No longer did Keith's scent of voice blend with theirs... He felt better for having shared his heat with Keith, despite the voices in the back of his head continually pointing out how much of a burden he was to his husband. He hadn't been wrong through. His heat had been the worst one he'd ever had. Normally he could make himself get off the floor to take care of himself in simple ways such as drinking water, yet with his husband there it was like some invisible wall had shattered and his body knew Keith would take care of his useless form.

  Feeling Keith kissing him, Lance immediately responded by deepening the kiss as he rolled his hips. Out of everywhere, his hips felt it the most. He'd been surprised at the feeling of being stretched so wide as Keith slotted between his legs. He wasn't sure his arse would ever go back to normal. Keith had felt like... he was big. Even if his human looking dick only looked a little bigger than normal, it was deceptive as hell. That thing grew so big that felt like he'd been impaled in all the best ways. The thing deep in the back corners of his brain that controlled his heat loved it. The way Keith would swell and catch. That thing near the base of his dick that made it hard to pull out. The feeling of Keith filled him with his spunk... He wanted to feel all of it all over again. Whining into the kiss, he tried to sit up and on Keith's lap. Instead of getting the message, Keith stopped altogether drawing a frustrated whine from Lance's lips

"Babe?"

"I wanna sit in your lap"

"You don't need to..."

"I want to... want up"

  Keith snorted at his childish exclamation, yet still pulled him up as he sat back. Whimpering as he let his weight fall, Keith seemed to be buried impossibly deeper within him, stroking up the embers of his heat into fierce fire in his gut. Placing both hands on Keith's shoulders, he forced him down, starting to riding him hard and fast, as he his mouth hung slightly open. Fuck. It felt good. Like Keith's dick was made to him every good bit inside of him. Plus the look of pure pleasure on Keith's face was worth it. He loved his husband. He loved the little pants and growls he gave, and the way he'd try to match Lance's rhythm knowing bottoming from the top would wear him out ridiculously fast. Bringing his left hand up, he gripped his erection, whining as he started to jerk himself off. He couldn't do any of this without Keith. Keith was the one that made this body tolerable

"Babe... babe, I'm going to come"

Nodding quickly, Lance wasn't going to last much longer. His body's only thoughts were on being bred by Keith which meant pleasing his husband by performing well. Even if Lance had vaguely figured out as much, his body and his mind still weren't communicating. He wanted to fuck because he was horny. That's what it came across as

"Gonna... come... fuck... fuck... Keith... ah... uh! Ah! Ah!

His toes curled as he came, stuttering out his moan as three hard pulses sent cum across Keith's stomach and chest. Half rising as he started to come, he dropped hard and bonelessly back down, Keith now deeply inside of him where warmth started to form. He wasn't entirely sure he could feel Keith coming or if it was psychosomatic from knowing he was. He liked to think he could. It made his belly feel warm and full in all different ways from eating, or being used like a com dumpster. It was a good kind of full that turned bad the moment Keith pulled out. That was when the panic and terror would set in. He was beyond grateful that Keith hadn't let him sleep messy. His skin had to be as clean as possible. Even if it was an irrational fear, he couldn't get the idea of being fucked in his sleep by someone he didn't want out his head. His mind couldn't put two and two together even in heat with Keith, in a locked room with no one else having entry. Waking up with cum across him equated to someone touched him without permission.

  Licking his lips, he let himself be cuddled by Keith enjoying the steady thumping of his racing heart. His stubborn husband had such a kind soul beneath all the emo prickliness. He just wanted someone to see him for him, and to love him for it. And he did. Rubbing his cheek against Keith's chest, Keith laughed softly

"Enjoying yourself?"

"Mmm... just thinking about you"

He heard the skipped beat of Keith's heart. That tiny moment of panic that raised his husband's pulse a tad more

"Me?"

"Yeah. I love you... you make everything more bareable"

"You..."

"I had you worried for a moment, did I? I heard your heart skip a beat for me, babe"

"With the amount of worry you put me through, I'm surprised my heart hasn't stopped"

  It was a joke. It was just a joke. He knew it was a joke... yet his frazzled emotions didn't know it was a joke. Tensing in Keith's hold, he squeezed his eyes closed tightly as he tried to fight from crying

"Babe? You ok?"

Sniffling, he was losing the fight. Tears dripping on to Keith's chest. His husband's voice was soft but firm

"Hey... what are you thinking?"

"I'm sorry... I want to be good... better. I don't want to make you worry"

"You are good and you are doing better"

"I know you were joking, so if I'm doing better, why am I crying?"

"Because you're exhausted from your heat"

"I'm so tired... this between us... it isn't over is it?"

Keith hugged him tightly, burying his face in Lance's hair

"Work sucks and I hate leaving, but even if it spelled the end of everything in existence, I could never give you up"

Allura had... she'd left him behind like this...

"I'm not Allura"

Quiznak. He hadn't meant to say that out loud

"I know..."

"But you're right we really need to sit down and work this out. Daehra said you're not sleeping properly and pushing yourself too much"

"Daehra has a big mouth"

"Lance"

The way Keith said his voice, it was like he was commanding him to explain without raising above a loving whisper

"I have to. If I stop I think too much... I don't have the pills anymore and it's... it's really hard getting out of bed knowing you're not here... days are longer here, remember... I have to wait longer for news that you're ok... and I don't want you quitting work. I don't want you thinking about me all the time because I should be better now! It was three movements... not my whole life"

"You were tortured. You were tortured and you don't know how long they actually held you because space around here is hinky. You're allowed to still be healing..."

Shaking his head, Lance nosed at Keith's chest. He'd already thought about that in the past, more than he wanted to admit. He'd never truly, one hundred percent know how long he was out and used for their pleasure. He didn't need Keith adding to his worry, and by default, worrying himself more

"I don't want to talk about it anymore..."

"Alright. We can talk later"

Good. His throat felt too raw as it was. Moaning hadn't helped... Dios... he'd been such a slut for his husband during his heat... Keith had to be a bigger pervert then he gave him credit for.

     *

Waking on the fourth day after Lance's heat ended, Keith found their bed devoid of his husband's warmth. Lance was still weakened from his heat, and following the advice of his instincts he'd stayed with his husband in their room knowing that Lance didn't have the physical strength to protect himself. He certainly had the mental strength, stubbornly shuffling around their room and insisting that he could feed himself. Messaging Daehra to let her know that Lance's heat had passed, she'd enquires as to when they would be returning to the outside world. Keith wanted to give it until the end of the movement, Lance didn't appreciate being babied... his husband's sulking lasting a whopping 5 doboshes before he scooted back in their bed and let Keith hold him.

  Climbing out their bed, the half-Galra could hear water running meaning Lance was in the shower. Letting himself into their bathroom, he found Lance curled up in the corner of the shower, apparently sleeping. Shaking his head, he killed the flow of now cool water and squatted down by Lance, not caring that his sweat pants were getting damp as he took Lance's face in his hands, cringing at the lump his fingers found just above the hairline on the left. Soooo not sleeping

"Lance, babe?"

Tapping Lance's face, sleepy blue eyes blinked at him

"Babe, what happened?"

"Seizure..."

Semi slurring but not quite Keith's heart fell at the Cuban's answer. He'd prayed that by some miracle they'd vanished off the face of existence. He'd also been incredibly grateful to the powers that be that Lance hadn't had one during his heat

"Did the seizure happen in the shower or in bed?"

"Brushing my teeth... think I hit my head... wet myself..."

"Why didn't you call me?"

"Didn't pass out... 'nd was embarrassed"

Usually Lance's seizures had him out for vargas, like his panic attacks did

"Ok... I'm going to help you up now... and I'm going to take you to see Daehra. Just to make sure you're all ok"

"'m fine. You're fussing. This wall and I are besties"

"You're such a dork, you know that right"

"Mmm... I'm a dork with a wall as a best friend. Winning in life right now"

  Hefting Lance up and over his shoulder before he could complain further, Keith carried him back to their bed. Sitting him on the edge, he pointed his finger at his husband

"Stay"

Raising an eyebrow, Lance yawned as he dropped backwards

"'m not Kosmo"

"No. Kosmo... well, I can't say he's better trained... but he usually stays in bed"

"He's a menace"

"He takes after your side of the family"

"Can't deny that..."

"Nope. Now, I'm going to dry you and we're going to go see Daehra"

"Fiiiine... wake me up when we get there"

Reaching down, Keith pulled Lance back up to sit up

"Whope! Nope. No sleeping just yet. Gotta get your head scanned first"

"Why? It's already fucking broken"

"Not broken, just a little muddled"

"I fucking suck"

"Ok that's it. No more talking. Just sitting"

   Helping Lance to the med room, because his husband was a stubborn shit who wouldn't let him carry him, Daehra met them there. With more space than on the Telula, Daehra had more toys than Keith remembered, her face practically shone with pride as caught Keith looking around the space

"I'll be taking on my own staff soon. Coran made a lot of these supplies possible for us. Now, Lance, how did you manage to hit your head when Keith's been looking after you?"

Lying himself down on the examination table, Lance lazily waved a hand

"Seizure... I was brushing my teeth"

Grabbing her holopad, Daehra synched with the scanner above the examination table

"Do you know how long it lasted?"

"Few ticks... I didn't pass out..."

Keith interjected

"I found him sleeping in the corner of the shower. I don't know if he's out of it from hitting his head or the seizure"

Pouting, Lance closed his eyes

"Dobber... 'm fine, Dae just a bit sleepy"

"I'll be the judge of that. How was his heat"

"It was fine..."

"I was asking Keith, not you. Now lay there and behave yourself"

Snorting at Daehra bossing Lance around, Keith waited for the soft hum of the scanner to stop before taking his husband's hand in his

"It was different from what I expect, but now we've been through one together, I think I've got a better idea of what to do next time"

"I'd like to know more. If we can isolate the compounds that directly neutralised his heat..."

"No"

  Lance didn't let Daehra finish her train of thought, despite the fact that Keith was interested in what she had to say. He didn't want to suppress his husband's urges, or make Lance feel ashamed of his body. But that didn't mean he didn't want Lance to not have the option if he chose

"Lance..."

"No drugs..."

"Babe, Daehra only wants to help"

"No drugs... no pills... I don't want... them"

"These are...

"Keith, no"

"Babe, I'm not trying to force you. I want you to be safe, well and happy. I want you to have the option of them in the future"

"I don't want any pills! I don't want anything in my system"

"You..."

Getting annoyed, Lance pulled his hand away

"You don't get it, Keith... it's like... you being stabbed when you love knives so much. Now imagine you're in a room surrounded by people holding your precious knives and they all want to stab you with them... it's safer to stay away..."

"I understand where you're coming from... I only want you to be healthy. I love you"

"I love you, even when I'm mad at you"

  Humming, Daehra tapped on her holopad

"It's nice to see you're both as love sick as usual. Lance, it's all surface damage. Your skull is as thick as it's always been. Your vitamin levels are down across the board, and you're dehydrated and a tad malnourished. That's to be expected given you and Keith have been so busy. I'm going to start a saline drip line. No drugs, just a bit of water to hydrate your cells"

"No drugs"

Daehra nodded with a smile

"No drugs... Keith... should have a line too. He was really tired Dae"

Keith crossed his arms

"I'm fine, babe"

"Don't listen to him... I don't think he slept much either..."

Sure, he hadn't slept much but he'd eaten and made sure to keep his fluids up the best he could. Staring down at his husband, Lance opened his eyes to shoot him a pleading look. Quiznak. He couldn't say no to that

"Alright. Scooch over"

"You might have to do the "scooching", I'm sleepy"

"So demanding"

  Manouvering Lance into his arms, Keith watched as Daehra prepared the IV bag for Lance. Taking a few ticks to doze off, Keith waited for Lance's breathing to even out

"I know he said no drugs, but have you got anything to help with his vitamin and mineral levels?"

"I was going to give him a herbal solution to help, but I think we both had the same idea about waiting until he fell asleep"

"I tried to get him to take his pills during his heat, but he ended up throwing them up and panicking. I was thinking next heat that an injection would be easier, I could give him those while he slept"

"It looks to me you both could use more sleep"

"He's pretty much slept nonstop since it ended. I think we were both feeling it towards the end there"

"It's good to see him resting. Do you know how much more time you have off?"

"At this moment, you're the only one I've contacted via comms. Have you heard anything?"

"Your mother checked in to make sure you arrived. Shiro also tried to call. The others were concerned when they couldn't reach Lance"

"Others?"

"From what I understand Pidge, Shay and Hunk. For your group call?"

"Oh..."

"I told him that you were both spending time together and unavailable at the moment. I want you to make sure he eats after this"

 Nuzzling Lance's hair, his husband flinched in his sleep as Daehra inserted the cannula

"I have been. His throat's been pretty tender from it all, not that that stops him"

"And his more intimate areas?"

Keith had the decency to blush... he'd pretty much wrecked Lance's arse repeatedly as he drilled him on any surface that would take their weight

"A little bit of tearing, but he's been healing fairly well. I should probably get you to double check the wound on the back of his neck. I bit him pretty hard"

"If there was any kind of infection, the scanner would have picked it up. It didn't heal immediately?"

"No. Possibly because all his energy was going into his heat..."

"We'll take a little look at that when it wouldn't result in you having to let him go. He has missed you very much"

Smiling fondly at his lover, the feeling was very much mutual

"I miss him too. I feel like everything I feared is coming true with this outpost. We're both working so much. I thought I'd be able to use here as a base, but I'm so busy on Daibazaal or with missions that I'm not home as much as I want to be"

"As long as you know this is your home"

"Wherever he is, is home. How's things around here? Did you hire..."

  Coming at him with a second saline bag, Keith wrinkled his nose as the cannula was inserted in his vein. Both he and Lance had relatively obvious veins in the crooks of their elbows. The ones on his hands were better... but hands always hurt a stupid amount in comparison

"... Did you hire a new cook? Or make a decision?"

"Shiro said he'd send someone out from the Atlas to help, but I've narrowed it down to two"

"You should hire both of them..."

"You haven't seen their credentials"

"I trust your judgement. If I never trusted you, I wouldn't have let you touch Lance"

"I seem to remember in the beginning you were quite against it"

"And I seemed to remember in the beginning your English was ridiculously formal. We've both changed"

Daehra giggled

"I think honestly Lance has changed the most. Not touching was the very basis of our professional relationship. He always supported us and our endeavours"

"He was always the glue that held Voltron together. Even when he couldn't see it himself... we all treated him like shit without realising... I wish I could go back and tell him how I actually felt, instead of feeding his silly rivalry game..."

"He's happy... most of the time. He still gets hung up on the negatives though... He's happy enough when he's busy, and not thinking about you"

"I hate not being here... I feel like I'm missing so much. We agreed on a decaphoeb, but it doesn't feel like it's working... Mum's got me training new recruits, and it's... frustrating. I can't take Lance to Daibazaal because it messes with his senses. I can't take him on missions because I don't want to put him in danger... Kolivan would have a heart attack if I even suggested it..."

"Have you talked to him? Told him that?"

"More than once..."

  Silenced by Lance mumbling in his sleep, Keith hushed him as his husband softly whimpered "Klearo" and "no"

"I'll leave you two to rest. Please join us in the bar if Lance feels up to it"

"I think I'm going to take him to the kitchen. He'll start insisting on working again if he gets the chance"

"I wouldn't put it past him. Do you mind if I let Lucteal know how Lance is? He's been worried"

"Yeah. Let him know he's ok. Or he'll be ok. I'll have to start doing the call around. It's probably been movements already"

"It's been a little over one movement of our time. His heats last approximately one movements of your time"

"I keep forgetting your days are longer here..."

"His heat essentially lasted 4 of our days. Now, I expect you to make sure he takes it slowly. And I expect you to spend some quality time with him"

Keith nodded, he was in absolutely no rush to go anywhere

"Yeah. That's the plan"

    *

When Lance woke they were still in the med room. Keith was being sappy as usual, kissing the spot where he'd just removed his cannula

"Dork"

Sprung in the act, Keith was adorable as he flushed

"You were supposed to be sleeping"

"Mmm... was. But my husband was being adorable and I don't want to miss that"

The throbbing, lingering headache that had plagued him since his heat ended had finally passed. When he'd collapsed in the bathroom, he'd thought it from that initially. Whatever Daehra had given him wasn't just simple saline

"How long?"

"She ran the bags on a slow drip so about 3 vargas. Your colour looks better. How do you feel?"

Humming, Lance took a moment to assess his body. He could feel his fingers and toes, which was a great start

"Everything's accounted for... my head feels better"

"That's good... up for some food?"

The part of that was "up" or at least part up wasn't up for food. Sex should have been the last thing he wanted now

"Yeah... food sounds good. I feel like I could still sleep for a phoeb"

"You can sleep as much as you like after you've led me to the kitchen"

  Lance's heart fell a little at his husband's words. This was supposed to be Keith's home, yet his husband didn't even know his was around the outpost. Now that his heat had passed, Keith had no real reason to delay his return to Daibazaal... They'd both be going their seperate ways until Keith had time to see him again... Biting down his feelings, Lance forced himself to sit up, cautious as he slowly made to stand unaided. His legs still felt like they were barely in their sockets, and now that he was standing the fact he was semi-hard was painfully obvious thanks to the sweat pants he was wearing. No one ever warns you of the risks when you go commando in sweats

"Babe?"

Waving off Keith's concern, he didn't want to be touched. If Keith laid his hands on him, Lance was scared he might resort to physically begging him not to leave

"I'm fine. The kitchen isn't that far from here and I have a craving for something meaty"

    Simonne and Marla were both in the kitchen when Lance led Keith into the space. Giving them a small wave, he ignored Keith in favour of raiding the cupboards and freezer for what he was looking for. Being in a commercial sized kitchen wasn't anything like cooking at home. There was a distinct lack of homely charm that he couldn't get used to. Plus, the big walk in freezer designed to lock when the hit the latch leaving him perpetually scared either himself or his staff would freeze to death... He'd kind of wanted the cook they'd had for a few movements to end up in their in order to cool his temper off. The man had big dreams so he'd given him a chance, but Lance soon regretted it after seeing him lose his temper at Tobias for returning a dish because it'd been essentially raw. Tobias didn't deserve that. Giving him a verbal and written warning, two quintants later the man had quit because someone else had a problem with their meal. In Lance's opinion the menu was too big. People came here to drink and sleep, eating was a far off thought and most people wanted something they could eat one handed while drinking. Cutting their menu down to 5 mains and changing seasonally made more sense.

  Gathering up the ingredients, Lance placed them down on the long bench in the middle of the room. Not sure of what to do with himself, Keith was leaning against the bench with his head in his hands. Trying not to stare at his husband, because God it was cruel how ripped and perfect Keith was, Lance jumped when Keith interrupted the silence

"What are you making?"

"Burgers. I've already done the patties when we had a fresh load of mince. So it's nothing fancy"

Keith leaned further into his hands, scratching at the scar from his fight with Kuron in an unconscious manner

"Can I help? I came home to help... and I'm supposed to be taking care of you. It's in the job description"

Lance's took offence to Keith's joke. He was completely done with the voices in his head. He'd known Keith for years. He'd literally told Keith that he shouldn't be making decisions for himself when it came to himself because honestly his hatred still ran deep. Taking a moment, he hated that Keith wasn't pushing because he knew Lance was thinking

"You can rinse the lettuce and tomatoes. They both need to be sliced... I'll do the onions, beetroot and the buns. I know there's a jar of pickles around..."

Onions were the perfect excuse if his stupid mind decided he needed to cry again. He wanted to cook for Keith. He wanted it to be good for his husband. Plus, he wanted to prove to himself that he could handle something as simple as making lunch for them

"Alright. Oh. Daehra said she was going to let Lucteal know you're up and around again. I'll have to call mum. She tried to call us. Personally I think she's going to finally admit she's pregnant while we're both together"

  Lance fumbled the bun he was removing from the bag

"She's what?"

"I only think she is... she hasn't confirmed it. I think that's why she's got me training the new recruits"

Lance rolled his eyes. He hated that Keith didn't seem to get it

"Babe, your mum's got you training the recruits because of those mad skills you've got. And because she trusts you. She needs someone she trusts to pass on the Blade technique-ee things you've all got going on over there"

""Technique-ee?" I don't think that's a word"

"I do. It's the best word for all your ninja stuff you do. That's great about Krolia, right?"

And not so great for them as a couple. Krolia would need Keith more and more as her pregnancy progressed. And depending on when she was due, Keith would probably need to stay on extra until she was back up on her feet again

"I mean... yeah. I think it is. I thought it was ok before I went home with you, but now I'm kind of really hoping she is... I want to spoil my sibling"

"Someone's got babies on the brain"

"No! No. Not like that! Not for a few more years... I mean... I'm just happy for her"

Keith's words stung a little, so without much in-depth thought on the matter Lance nodded, moving the conversation along

"Yeah, Krolia's going to have the cutest baby. I mean, I feel sorry for the kid having you as a big brother. You're pretty much perfect. That kid's going to have a lot to compete with"

"Pfft. You're the perfect one"

  Giggling in the corner, Lance had forgotten the two maids were in the kitchen. It was lucky he hadn't opened his big mouth about his heat. Rolling the lettuce and two tomatoes over to Keith, his husband collected the items and moved towards the sink

"I kind of hope they look like Acxa. That'd be adorable"

"Or Krystaal. If they're a boy... Plus, just think about it. We could totally pull a lotor and send them off to age up and take control of the empire when I retire"

Resisting the urge to throw something at Keith, the knives in the block just off to the right were all pretty appealing. He knew Krystaal was cute... but he hadn't seen her. Besides Acxa had her moments. Mostly whenever she saw Veronica and blushed

"That totally worked out great for Lotor... So no. You can't send your sibling off to age up. Plus, they're really cute when they're babies and all chubby. Nadia used to cry for hours, which isn't that cute, but she'd settle for me. She'd spend hours sleeping on me if she could. Like you and Juana"

"That was a freak incident brought on by all the love in your household. Did Miriam teach you how to make burgers?"

"She did, then Hunk showed me a different way. I'm not saying mami can't make burgers, but a burger has to taste like a burger and not like sausage meat"

"Oooh. I'm telling mami"

"We both know you wouldn't. Here, wash this for me"

  Throwing Keith the onion he'd picked out, his husband washed and threw it back like they been spent every day of their married life in the kitchen and were well seasoned pro's as Lance grabbed a knife from the block. Lance wasn't sure how many more days like this they'd get. Krolia needed Keith more than he did. His mental health didn't matter as much as her and his sibling. Keith would make an amazing big brother now that all his sharp edges had been carefully rounded off. No. What Lance needed was to pull himself out his flunk on his own. He needed something to make up for that missing high, that wasn't Keith's touches and kissed because they'd be walking out the door soon enough with his husband. Dios... he was being such a petty bitch. Keith hadn't even left yet. Slicing through the onion he forgot to leave the end on. Barely half a dozen ticks passed before his eyes were watering. Sniffling, he forced himself not to wipe at his eyes lest he wipe onion juices into them. Sometimes in life you needed to have a good cry on your own, and that's what his head was telling him he needed right now. Just to cry it out and reassess how he was now that his wretched heat had passed

"Dude, are you crying?"

Nodding

"I've been onioned. They're from Daehra's garden... which you haven't seen yet. I've got to show you while you're still here. She's even started working on cultivating desert and drought tolerant plants to take home. We went for a run out to collect cuttings. Half of them didn't strike but the ones that did look pretty cool"

 Returning with the lettuce and tomatoes, Keith frowned at him

"You didn't tell me that"

"It was when we picked up that guy who was wanted on Erathus for unpaid parking fines... like two phoebs ago I want to say. You know, the one who threw Lucteal against a wall so he smacked him over the head with his staff... I swear I told you"

"You didn't"

Lance would bet his life on it that he did, purely because of how funny it was at the time. The man had no idea that Lucteal had caught on fast when it came to training with his staff. He was just lucky Lucteal hadn't undone the middle and drawn his blades

"Yep. I know I did. I bet if you checked your comms, you'll find a pic. Lucteal took the commission for the bounty. I mean, it's not he hasn't picked up GAC before, but Daehra and I were busy being proud parents and now I'm rambling... I'm sure I did. It was after the volcano, but before... I don't know what came next. I think we some rebels here after... nope. It's gone. You need a knife. You can use the one from your boot on my food"

Keith rolled his eyes at him, snarking

"I would have sterilised it first. I'm not some heathen"

"You probably wouldn't have remembered until half way through. You know what, let's make Daehra and Lucteal lunch too"

"I thought we were eating alone?"

"And I thought my husband would see the issues with smearing toe jam on our lunch"

"Technically it's dinner"

 Raising the pitch of his voice, Lance was exceptionally mature with his response

"Mem em meme me... Technically it's dinner. Look at me, I'm Keith! I can actually keep track of the time. With my grizzled body and stylish mullet..."

"It's not a mullet!"

"It is if I say it is"

"It doesn't work that way"

"It does too!"

"Does not! It's a goddamn mullet!"

"It's grown out!"

"So you admit you went through puberty with a mullet!?"

"I admit nothing! Why are we yelling!?"

Lance simply shrugged

"Because I'm right and you're wrong"

"No. You're being a stubborn dick"

"Well this stubborn dick is making lunch for his mullet wearing husband. If that's not you, you can fend for yourself"

"Wha... huh? No"

"Then get to work"

   Making extra for Daehra and Lucteal, lunch was nice. Simonne and Marla had left them to enjoy their meal together, so Keith had decided to be an adorable little shit. Wrapping his arms around him while he'd grilled both burger patties, Keith had peppered kisses to his neck line, not at all helping his with the problem in his pants, or his anxieties over the fact that Keith was leaving soon. When their meal was done, Lance grabbed both extra meals, having Keith hold the door for him as he headed out to the bar.

  The wolf whistles from a few of his usual customers didn't go over well with Keith. Smiling through the assault of scents, he gave his "admirers" a nod before moving down to join Daehra near the register

"I made you lunch. How's business"

Sighing at him as he placed the plates down, Daehra finished up the purchase she was working on

"I thought I told Keith not to let you go back to work"

"You wound me. I made you lunch, and this is how you thank me"

"Keith should have been making lunch. You need rest"

He'd been resting. He'd done the sleeping thing. He'd done the med room thing. Now he wanted to play at doing the "normal" thing

"I'm fine. I feel heaps better. Take a break, Keith and I can take over here. Where's Lucteal at?"

"The training room"

Sounded about right

"Why don't you go get him and have lunch here?

"Because Keith looks positively murderous behind you"

  "I don't look murderous. I simply don't want men wolf whistling at my husband"

Daehra laughed lightly

"Careful Keith, your possessive side is showing"

"Well... he's my husband... it took me long enough to finally catch him. I'm not about to let him go off with some random"

Keith sounded actually pissed about it all. Turning back to his husband, he drew him into a deep kiss before Keith could object. Looping his arms around his waist, and grabbing his arse to pull him close, the kiss left Lance a little weak in the knees as some of the patrons laughed, while others cheered at them

"See babe. Nothing to worry about. I talk about you enough that everyone here knows I'm yours. They were only trying to get a rise out of you"

"I don't wan..."

"Babe. Don't you talk about me?"

Misinterpreting Keith's silence to mean "yes", Lance smiled as he placed a small kiss on Keith's still slightly parted lips

"See. It's the same"

"Alright... I'm... still having a few issues over coming out of your heat with you. Right now everyone here feels like a threat"

"Probably because they are. Any number of people here right now could take us in a fight. And besides, every offer I've had I've turned down. You are the only one in the universe that has my express permission to touch me like you do. Now stop thinking too much"

"I'm doing a you. Getting stuck in my head instead of being here"

"You should enjoy being here. You won't be here much longer. Here, help me clean up the bar a bit. You can work on not scaring my customers away"

"I'd rather take you back to bed"

  "You two are gross. Get your hands off each other and get to work. Lance, I looked at getting some more staff in. The details are on the holopad down there. Keith, you know how to a bus a table. Take this tray out there and do the rounds while I call Lucteal"

Ducking his head, Lance smiled a genuine smile at Daehra

"I love it when you get bossy..."

"We both know that's a lie. If I can't get you to rest, I can at least limit your activities"

"Yes, ma'am. Keith, you heard the lady. Time to work"

[thegracecardinal]

only the beginning

who? grace cardinal & gang members

where? house party

when? early tonight, march sept 11th

what? grace gets a text from jason, her boss, telling her to come to an address. when she arrives, she finds herself at a house party. her initiation into the gang life truly begins tonight.

tw? non-consensual activity

Grace had been in the middle of doing her homework when she heard her phone going off. Picking it up, she opened three texts from Jason, the man who was basically her boss from the gang. Opening the texts, they read:

jason: gracie, ive been talking to my guys and some higher ups.

jason: we need you at 107 cherry st.

jason: bring whatever you’ve made this week and your beautiful self ;)

Her lip curled in disgust, but she answered back saying she’d be there in about 30 minutes. She wasn’t sure what was up, but she didn’t have a good feeling about this. She did her best to see anyone from the gang as little as possible, she definitely did not enjoy their company. Grabbing her small backpack bag, she went into her drawer and dug till she pulled out a wad of cash that she’d made over the past few days. Shoving it into her bag, she got a few other things she’d need like her phone and then climbed out her window. Her mom has gone to bed an hour ago, so she wouldn’t be checking on Grace and would never know Grace had even left. As she walked down the street, she checked maps on her phone and saw that the address he had given her was a 20 minute walk away. She was really hoping this walk would calm her nerves rather than make her more nervous.

A little over 20 minutes later and Grace was walking up to a one story house, nothing special about it, but it looked nice enough. Or it would have, if there wasn’t people pouring out of it, all kinds of drunk and high. She awkwardly pushed her small frame into the crowded house, glancing around. Her cheeks burned red when she caught a couple having sex on a couch, people all around them, some paying attention and others not caring in the least that these people were totally fucking right out in the open. She turned her head just in time to walk right into Jason, who laughed, his arm immediately draping over her shoulders, “Enjoying the show? I always knew you were secretly kinky.” He winked at her and Grace just forced a smile, “Yeah, uh, I brought all my earnings from the past few days.” She started to reach for her bag, but Jason stopped her, shaking his head as he led her deeper into the house, “We don’t gotta deal with that right now. We have other matters to discuss.” Grace glanced at him, a hard look on her features. She didn’t like this, she had told him, all she wanted was to make money and stay out of everything else, this wasn’t in the plan. He led her into a smaller living area, crammed with people. She could feel herself curling inward, not liking being around so many people, especially people like this. The group Jason pulled her towards looked familiar, some of them had been at the safe-house before, but others weren’t as familiar, “Anyone who doesn’t know, this is our cute, little Gracie. She’s an innocent little 16, but I’m pretty sure she’s been fooling us, since she was definitely just watching a couple have sex out there.” The group laughed and Grace looked down at the ground, feeling more uncomfortable than she’d ever felt in her life. A male beside her brushed his fingers against her cheek, caressing her skin, “So, you like to watch, ever actually done it, sweetie?” Normally, Grace would swat his hand away and tell him to go fuck himself, but she knew she had to play along and instead answered, “A girl never kisses and tells.” She smirked, doing her best to put on a believable act. Jason’s arm had moved from around her neck and he now had it behind her back, his hand resting on her waist. As much as she didn’t like it, she stayed put. The men around her joked over her answer and the girls agreed with her. Looking at Jason, she did her best to not sound insistent, “So, do I get to know what this is about yet? The suspense is killing me.” She smiled and he looked at her with a smirk on his lips, “Oh, you’re gonna love tonight, little Gracie.”

Jason led Grace over to a couch and he sat down, pulling her into his lap. Her instinct was to immediately run, she did not like the position she was in, but Jason’s arms wrapped around her, one of his hands on her waist and the other on her upper thigh, and she knew to stay put in his lap if she wanted to make it through this night. His lackey’s and their girl’s all joined around them, all of them at different levels of fucked up it seemed. The hand on her upper thigh started rubbing on her and she looked at him, her body tensing, “Hm, does little Grace like teasing touches?” A lump formed in Grace’s throat, but she smiled, pretending she wasn’t falling apart on the inside, “So, I was talking to some higher ups and they thought it was certainly time you become initiated. You know, become a true member.” Grace’s eyes searched his face, wondering what in the hell he could even mean, “Don’t worry, we’d never hurt you. Unless you fuck with us. But we like you, and you do good work. It’s time you officially belong.” She swallowed thickly, not even sure how to respond to such ominous words. Someone handed Jason a double shot of some gold liquid and Grace watched, expecting him to drink it, but he held it towards her instead, “Drink up, beautiful. Time to start this fun night.” Her mouth opened slightly, wanting to protest, but she saw the expectant eyes all around her and took the double shot from him instead. Without another thought, she brought it to her lips and tossed her head back, swallowing the warm liquid as quickly as possibly. She tried to suppress her coughs as the liquid burned, watching as the double shot was filled with more liquid almost immediately. Tonight was not going to be fun for her.

It didn’t take long for the room to start spinning. Everyone around her was enjoying themselves, drinking, doing drugs, but Grace was just sitting in Jason’s lap, trying desperately to breathe through her inebriated state. Jason leaned in towards her, pressing his lips to her ear, “How’s little Gracie doing? Feeling good? Cause you look very good.” He started to kiss behind her ear and down her neck, sloppy and aggressive drunk kisses. Tears began to sting her eyes and she choked back a sob, she didn’t know if Jason had things planned for her, but she was terrified to say the least. One of his hands gripped her ass and his other hand shoved up her shirt. Her own hands stayed shaking in her lap, feeling like her body was readying itself to explode with tears. After Jason had kissed all over her upper chest and neck, his lips found their way back to her ear, slurring, “One day soon, I’ll take your virginity from you. I can’t promise I’ll be nice about it, but you’ll be screaming one way or another. But tonight, I’ll let you enjoy yourself.” Grace froze. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. She couldn’t do anything except whisper, “I need another shot.” And, of course, Jason quickly snapped his fingers and Grace had another shot, drowning herself in more liquor so she didn’t have to feel any more of this torture.

[mattyslittleworld]

East Keansburg

P: Rob Sellig 

2:48 am / Thursday morning. Im listening to this new Tsu Surf & Mozzy project, thinking about this kid I grew up around. Ive been reading he passed away, which is such a shame. We grew up playing basketball together at St. Catherines in EK, middle school, high school, alternative high schools, programs together. Troubled youth. I have this specific memory of him from years ago. I believe I wrote about it in my last blog post, about watching somebody get curb stomped. I was a lost kid, me and my friends aimless, drifting from group to group. Ended up spending a lot of late nights in EK wandering the streets. This night specifically, there were about 7 of us. A homie of mine was interested in writing graffiti, and this was before music, so graffiti was basically my identity. So we met up at his house, where my friend had a group of heads over, and they were partying, selling, and just going off. He lived with his parents, which speaks volumes, because at this time in my life, everyones parents gave up...nobody gave a fuck, except mine, but they couldn't control me. One thing leads to another, my boy wanted to go bombing. So we leave his house with our paint, and just take the streets, 5 reckless kids fallowing us on skateboards and bikes. Wasted, loud, rowdy, reckless, but as an outsider, I found a silver lining in their terror....it was a middle finger to the society that never gave them a chance. It was a brotherhood. This specific kid, at this point, was in and out of county, witnessed him fighting over and over in school, and in the streets since day 1. We were walking tall through the backroads in EK....they were spray painting cars...houses...anything. No fucks given. Wasted...they were breaking windows...kicking dents in BMW’s. Playing music off the phone...they were all they got. Another group of kids ended up on the same block....and they went off. A fight broke out....and I have this specific memory of boy ripping his shirt off, passionate, raging with anger, to protect his brotherhood, his street crew, his family. Being around him since I was a little kid, school, ball, mutual friends....I never got to know him deeper than this...but I would always see him and just salute his pride, and his will to stand on his actions, and his will to fucking fight for who and what he loves. Rest In Power fam. A lot of homies reading this from EK who follow my music...yall know who I am talking about. I never got to know this man - but I salute him for how much of HIM HE REALLY WAS. I remember in 2006, I was a freshman in high school, and my cousin ended up in a fight with a senior over a friend who passed away. My cousin was intoxicated during this time, in school, and I ended up beating the dog shit out of this senior as a young kid. These EK boys were the only ones who showed love, who stood tall behind me, making sure I was good, safe, and assuring me I was doing the right thing. Cant let your family go down like that. Rest In Peace man.

Last year, days before Tsu Surfs album Seven 25 dropped, he doubled back and we hit the studio and recorded a song called “Make You Proud”. He dropped the album very shortly after and it went #2 on iTunes in under 24 hours, and I was sure I wasn't going to see that man ever again. A year later, here we are...a day before he drops this joint project with Mozzy...that debuted at #5 on itunes, were dapping up at a film set in Queens, NY to film the music video. A YEAR LATER, this man gave a fuck enough to pull up and bless my career with this video. That meant a lot to me. I specifically remember feeling alone, hopeless, in some of the darkest moments of my life. Just listening to his tape over and over and over....running laps at the track at Mader Dei Highschool. It gave me hope, it motivated me to get over the feelings that were weighing me down. My life was changing, and this eased the pain. Nobody likes the motions of change if it includes losing people you love....losing the ability to do things you love...and going places you love. You have to find new health, new wealth, and new routines. My new found routine was coffee in the morning...spending an hour studying the industry...listening to my podcasts...then immediately running laps listening to his tape. Anything after that was subjective. Nowadays its basketball instead of running laps....but it gave me health. Mentally and physically. I could collect my thoughts. I could hear real stories....being gunned down 5 times and bouncing back...then charting. Here we are. On set....once again with Rob...my brother on the directing tip. My new lovely friend Victoria, who's a beautiful, ambitious, ride or die artist of her own. Robs pops. Mike Oliva, who is a SAVAGE photographer and film maker himself. It was a trip. Over the past year, kids at bars, hardcore shows, normals, civilians, people from all over and the world have been DMing me about simply just a teaser and a photograph of me and Surf in a studio. With Albee Al, Casanova, Cage - its all a specific group of people. Mainly mainstream music consumers...radio listeners...people who are tapped into Instagram and culture. But with Surf - Ive had the pleasure of speaking to people from all walks of life. Old hardcore friends telling me how much his movement has touched their lives...so wild. I was late to his wave...Belv actually told me to tap in and do it, and that's my brother so I made sure I did for the team. We drank hot chocolate and coffee, listened to our favorite music so loud, have such great conversations, got amazing footage that im so proud of, and just overall killed the mission. Nothing makes me more happy. This was a moment for me....because for the first time...im not in silly poppy clothes...im myself...im spitting bars on it...I feel and look like the person who was painting freights in 2007. And that is very important to me. Sometimes you can get swallowed by the wave youre riding...and I am guilty of that. It influenced so much of me...and recently I said look...fuck all this. Fuck everything except for whatever inside me still lingering before back and forth. Because if those passions, those tendencies, those people, are still here and within me...theyve been growing all this time, strong, sticking by me, and that's me. Shitty hoodie. Airmaxes or vans, shitty hat, stupid hair, cutty as fuck, smiling. dirty skateboard kid just trying be great man. I miss my old Mercer Ave skate crew. Its been years. 

Im starting to go through a new awakening where im witnessing the ones around me unfold in such a distasteful manner. Its pretty crazy to spend time with people, face to face, and have dinner, coffee, laughing with each other one on one....and in my head at the same time think...this mother fucker dead ass hates me. Wants to kill me. Wants me to fail. Fucks heavy with EVERYONE who has done wrong to me. Has talked shit behind my back. Has stabbed me in the back. And they are such fucking clowns....they don't know that I know...and they don't even comprehend that im being a bigger person and not addressing shit below me, because I don't have room for shit like that in my life. This is the time where people fuck with you one foot in, for opportunity, to hit a lick, to keep the link, to get to the people you fuck with. It is literally so easy to show love...and yet people close to you just won't. Its an interesting concept. I am fortunate in the sense that I am self made, self built, and already a black sheep. If everybody in my life turned their backs, it wouldn't touch my career. So therefore, I don't have this fuckery nature in my behavior. I don't fuck with you, I don't fuck with you. Thats it. Im learning you cannot trust people who fuck with you one foot in....because that means they're prepared to step away at any moment when you're down. They don't got your back. They are around people who drag your name through the mud, and they allow it. AT BEST...since they have one foot in....theyll tap in and say such and such said this....but why didn't you defend me? Why were they okay with these actions with you? Because your friend has their other foot with the opps. Fuck these types of people. Forever. Ive been seeing people put up with this behavior, and I figured id speak on it, because its been on my mind. You don't have to get treated like shit to fit in. Truth is, your friends are probably wack. Your friends probably hate you. Your friends don't want you to do better than them. And no, it doesn't matter how long you've known them. Most relationships stem and grow out of convenience, and lack of change, lack of ambition, lack of dreams and goals. I always thought, its actually very easy to be a good friend when they need you...in moments of tragedy and misery. Because that doesn't shake your foundation, and make you realize you aint shit. It doesn't challenge your framework. Its harder for most people to be a good friend when their friend is celebrating success, because the human nature is to compare, and sometimes that can be a mirror reflection of how you AINT SHIT. Recognize these people and cut this cancer out of your system. Or if you are this person, we all have been at one point, cone to terms with how wack you are and be a good person lmao. I want to see my plumbing friend look me in the eyes and go “im the best plumber in this area and im gunna kill this job and make a living for my family and buy a BMW”, just like I want to see my graphic designer friends believe after their hard work that they're qualified OVER SOMEONE ELSE for their job, to make a great living. Just like I want to see a musician, or rapper, talk his shit and believe in themselves, go platinum, and make a great living and buy a Range. Being around greatness inspires me, never scares me. I love being at the bottom, it amps me up. It gets me going. It gets me off. I love the fight, the grind, the game. Whether its music, or washing windows in the freezing dead of winter for commission to pay for fucking studio time to be where I am right the fuck now boiiiiiii. 

Me and Belv have some crazy shit coming. That is all. Okay bye.