#sometimes if i dont get out of bed theyll just nap right next to me

[kkoct-ik]

i love having a cat because there is just a little guy in your home and he loves you. he also hates you a little bit but most of all he loves you

[uwuowotf2waslife]

Do you have one with crippling depression yet? Like they stop eating, stop moving, always nearing tears but bottles them up, becomes emotionally numb, not really finding the joy in life in anyway? There’s nothing physical that caused it, it’s just isolation, loneliness, or guilty memories catching up with you. I’m uh, not doing so good right now and your writing is a really good pick-me-up. Can you write it? Please? It’s fine if it’s too triggering, I can understand. Have a good day, or night.

My inbox is always open my dude, and im more than thankfull for your words

(this will be about a merc and a S/O, hmu if you meant about team dynamics)

You are poetry, 

stay safe & hydratated

tw: depression

Scout: (っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ not the most emotional mature of the mercs; even himself admits that he is pretty immature even for his age (early 20s), but this doesn’t means he doesn’t have empathy or that he doesn’t care about his S/O. He sees you suffering and he is big time worried. He tries to motivate you, drag you out of your bed and do something fun or at least go and buy some food. He will get annoying but he can’t just sit there and watch you rot. He is a hands-on guy, he might not understand why you are acting up like this, but at the same time he doesnt know how he can approach you. He will try to hug you tighter and bring you food and water, his shoulders can be a pillow for you to cry all day and night long and his hands are there to wipe off the tears from your face. He hates seeing his bby sad and would give half his Tom Jones memorabilia for you to wake up one day and be your old, happier self ♥

Soldier: (っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ although his social skills are in scarcity, he isnt a traitor. He sees his S/O down ( mentally) and it pains him to an unimaginable extent  to see you so unmotivated . He doesn't understand why are you sad, what has happened? Did that crazy Kraut touched you? who he needs to snap the neck? He hates seeing you like this. Will be stubborn, just because he doesnt understand something it doesnt mean he can't find a way around. In the end, he will push you enough to actually break down and explain everything that has happened. For the first time in years hes just silent, he broke the dam and he is beyond ashamed of making you break down like this. He doesn't what to do so for now he will hold you as tight as he can and promise in America and whatever is holy and pure in him that he will help you untill you are again okay. ♥

Pyro: (っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ they know that you are sadder than before and they can see you points of view. They themselves know that life sometimes just sucks and that its okay not to want to eat or leave your bed. But they are also afraid that whatever is plaguing you it will become worse and worse and they really don’t want to see you hurting yourself like they once did. They try helping you do simple things, drink a glass of water, play a bit with their stuffed animals, theyll help you brush your hair or wash your face. They know they baby you, but they think you need a bit more of some more smootches or cuddles. If they see you worsening or being even less active they will drag you their pillowfort and just try to keep you as close them while chanting sweet nothings and sad mumbles, please don’t loose yourself like they did. ♥

Engie: (っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ he might be a cruel, cold man when hes on the field, but in reallity he is the cinnamon roll meme( he is a cinnamon roll and he might kill you tho but he is mostly a cinammon roll). He knows also that work and his projects take a really big amount of his time so he already feels very guilty. I doubt he has any humanitarian doctorates, but he has an above average understanding of human psychology; whats the point of trying  to emulate life when you cant understand it?He knows he can't address it straightforward, but he needs to get you over this slump before you do something really stupid. Que him cleaning up his workshop and carrying you there bridal style. He has a small nest of pillows and blankets and right next to it his trusted guitar.You have the whole night and the day after to spend it together and get in the bottom of the barrel. Itll be hectic but he is a very patient man and loves ya to bits ♥

Demo: (っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ lowkey one of the mercs with the most expierence with depression/ depressive episodes. For once in his life he doesnt drink and tries to find the rute of the problem, if there is of course or its just pent up anger and frustation with things that have happened in your life now or in the present. In simple, you will talk. For hours if needed. He wont drink a sip becausehe doesnt want to forget even the stupidest detail from your venting. In the end, he will offer you to drink but he will drag you out of the base/ house and make you sit in the front porch/ garden  while he has set up some “ festive” fireworks ( just some small ones that erupt and turn into hearts) . He isnt the ideal psychological perfection, but if you chosed the scottish cyclops for your mate, then he shall go to the man and back just to see you smile one more time. ♥

Heavy: ˜”*°•.˜”*°• he has seen depression and has experienced it himself. It was way too traumatic for a young man to have to support a family without a father figure around. I highly headcanon him to have deppresion hence the sandwich, hes bingining while staying in the battlefield. He doesnt care about the language barrier, in order for the both of you to be as close as you are know, it means you understand eachother to a satysfying extent. He will cook you a very hearty meal and bring it to your bed with a tray and sweet tea. You can eat in silence with him simply staying by your side and rub your back, words can’t potray how he feels right now. Once you finished hell put the dishes outside and simply cuddle you ( being the least cuddly of the mercs, it means a lot). You can nap, cry, trace patterns on his sculp anything really. All his life the main cause of depression was the anarchy surrounding his life, he needs you to feel protected. He doesn’tcare how much time it will take, but he will rip the mountains apart to seeyou smile out of genuine happiness, might even cry if he is the cause. •°*”˜.•°*”˜

Medic: (っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ the most medically, again qualified from the group. so he has at least that covered. He isn’t stupid, you show clear signs of cronic clinical depression ( also known as manic depression) and although it has been a long while before finding a patient to lobotomize, hed be damned if he ever butchered you up like that. He is a healer, even if enjoys his enemies to hurt a little more than they should, and a healer is here to help both the body and the mind. Will persuade you into getting under medication, even if he knows theyll have little to no effecthe just hopes the placebo effect will motivate you. He tries to mix your routine with his, ex. he wakes up really early when you finnaly after hours of insomnia fell asleep, hell tuck you in and kiss your forehead. Throughout the day hell send Scout or Heavy to bring you food or water or your medications. Pyro will be by your doorstep or you side, to keep you company during the day. At night he will carry you to the medbay and do all the talking for you if you dont feel like talking, he will listen to all of your venting. Lowkey will sit you on his lap so he can rub your back and let you cry/ just sit there, to feel his heardbeat on your face and relax. ♥

Sniper: (っ◔◡◔)っ ♥    𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘯, 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵. 𝘉𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘈𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘵 , 𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥, 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 , 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥. 𝘏𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴𝘯𝘵 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦. 𝘖𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘈𝘥𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘳, 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘣𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘤 ( 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘥𝘴), 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘚/𝘖 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦. 𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵( 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘱𝘪𝘴𝘴 , 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 0/10 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥) 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘶𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰 𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘬. 𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘳, 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘶𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦. 𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘭𝘧 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦, 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘯𝘰𝘸. ♥

Spy: (っ◔◡◔)っ ♥     actually he isn’t that mentally mature as much as he strives to be. He has very unhealthy copying mechanisms, he fucks and smokes his torments away, but he also knows different people have different copying mechanism and he cant judge how people seek comfort. He doesnt know how to help yo, he really does but he doesnt know. He is nervous but he will probably suggest you two take a vacation away, together. He has planned it all fancy and nice, and pretty much has scanned the whole place/ area/resort you are staying and having “ friends” around. He doesnt care if you just stay all day in the resorts pool and just chill around drinking pina coladas. In the middle of your vacations, he will take you to a more secluded area and will open up about his issues , not about your relationship but about him as a person. He has many issues and he is a very difficult person to be around, so you haveto know he will never judge you. But he also doesnt know how to help you. This will make you hug him and you two can finnaly have a good, well-earned cry. Kiss him on the nose or on his head and tell him how much all this means to you and he will cry you a river and hold you till the dayhe dies, how can someone so late in his life means so, just so damn much? ♥  

[reesewestonarchive]

chapter six / rem belongs to @forlornraven / masterpost / mature content

The van idles in the parking lot when Nakoa wakes. Rem’s nowhere to be found, until Nakoa peers out the window of the motel room and sees him setting their bags in the back, a cigarette stuck out of his lips.

Nakoa pulls from the window, stretches his arms above his head.

Waits for Rem to come back, and when he does, he takes one look at Nakoa and says, “You ready?”

“For /what/?” Nakoa’s ready to settle down. Get a job in some bullshit city that won’t ask his age. Rem can…

Well, maybe if he’s happy, he…

“Next leg of the trip.” He pulls the cigarette from his mouth, stubs it out on the bottom of his shoe. “You wanna get dressed?”

Right now, he wants another fucking nap.

“I’ll blow you,” Rem says, with a raise of an eyebrow, and Nakoa snorts. There’s no fucking way Rem wants to get out of here that quickly. “If we go.”

“Yeah fucking right,” Nakoa says.

But Rem steps forward and pulls Nakoa against him by the hem of his t-shirt. Tucking his fingers into the waistband of Nakoa’s pants, he says, “No. Hey.” He tugs at Nakoa’s collar, a smile tugging at his lips. Nakoa thinks about kissing him. He doesn’t. “I’m serious.”

Nakoa looks from Rem’s lips to the van outside. “Where are we going?”

“Oregon, maybe. Why not Canada? Or Mexico. Check out some of their beaches.” Rem grins. Draws Nakoa in for a kiss, and he tastes like coffee and creamer, sweet and smooth.

Like a different guy, but… fuck, Nakoa’s used to this. Rem gets freaked out by something, says a bunch of jackass shit, and Nakoa handles it poorly. It’s not like this thing between them’s easy. Nakoa doesn’t understand it himself, most of the time. Nakoa’s never wanted as much as he wants with Rem, and… that’s terrifying. To imagine the future and want someone by his side.

“What happened?” Nakoa asks, when his eyes are still closed and Rem pulls away, just slightly. “With the blood.”

Rem goes tight under Nakoa’s fingers. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Tough shit. You’re going to.” Nakoa pinches him, under the arm, and Rem yelps, scowls at him.

“Might have some prick on my tail. Don’t worry about it.”

Don’t worry about it. “You nearly beat the shit out of my dad when he hit me last year,” Nakoa says, trying to contain his frustration and failing, “but the second I want to make sure you’re okay—”

Rem pulls away. “It’s not the same. Come on, in the car. You can drive.” He flashes a smile, mischievous, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Rem.” Nakoa flattens his voice, steps backwards so Rem’s presence isn’t quite so intoxicating, so he can think through the fog in his head. “I’m serious.”

Rem sighs, runs a hand through his hair. “It’s fine. Can you calm down? I’m not some fucking damsel in distress. I can take care of myself—”

More than he had the other night, Nakoa wants to leave. Let Rem fend for himself, see where that gets him. But then, he imagines Rem lying on the side of the road, or in some dark alley next to a liquor store, and— “Why are you so afraid of this?” he asks, thinks about gesturing between the two of them, really nailing down what he’s talking about.

A dark look passes Rem’s face, before he says, “Because I don’t want you involved.” Nakoa expects him to leave—it looks like it. “You don’t need to get caught up in my bullshit anymore than I should be caught up in yours.” Nakoa wants to tell him that he likes to be, that he likes knowing Rem’s fine, that if he could help, he would. And now that it’s them against the world, two of them on the road alone, each other is all they have. But Rem doesn’t let him, says instead, “We have fun together, right?”

And any hope burns to ash in Nakoa’s chest. He tastes it on his tongue when he says, “Yeah. Fun.”

Bowie plays on the stereo in the car, and Nakoa hears it from miles away. He thinks of what Rem said in the motel room; fun. That’s what it started as; is that all it will ever become for Rem?

Desire breeds warm and heavy in Nakoa’s stomach, sated temporarily by sex, but more often Nakoa just… wants. A longing feeling when he sees Rem singing along to the radio, when Rem moans—a different one when Nakoa touches him than the one he makes when eating pancakes, but neither less arousing than the other.

The goofy grin when he teases Nakoa.

He wants. Maybe the two of them will never own property, will spend their lives on the run from Nakoa’s shithead of a father, from the people Rem hustles for money to survive, but that’s a better end than wasting away in Withervale.

Nakoa should tell him. He should find a way to say the words without scaring Rem off, to say without expectation what he wants.

But then, he wants Rem. Is it not better to have what pieces of himself Rem will offer?

-

“What are you doing?”

Rem’s voice is scratchy with sleep. His eyes bloodshot from a twelve hour drive, and Nakoa’s knuckles hurt from where he has been pressing against play, pause, record for two hours, listening to the radio.

Fuck. Nakoa rips off his headphones, says, “Nothing. Why?”

Rem raises an eyebrow, says, “Come on. Come to bed.”

Bed tonight is the mattress in the back of the van. Nakoa’s money sits safely in the locked glovebox, but it’s dwindling. They’re close to Oregon, now, Disney just a pipe dream, but Rem keeps pulling off to look at the wildlife. To stop in gift shops. To tug Nakoa around randomly in tourist traps.

Nakoa might revel the attention, if he thought it would lead anywhere.

In Rem’s hand hangs a bottle of whiskey, capped, but when Rem leans down to press a kiss to Nakoa’s lips, he tastes sober. Like toothpaste.

Nakoa chases Rem’s mouth with his own when he pulls away. Rem smirks. His gaze lingers on the tape recorder. “This for me?”

“Fuck off,” Nakoa says. He’d picked up the tape recorder in a pawn shop for a few bucks, one night, and a pack of blank tapes, too. He’s tossed out one shitty mixtape once already, to throw Rem off his tail, to keep him from immediately suspecting. Kind of counterintuitive—the whole point of the mixtape is so Nakoa doesn’t have to say anything—but it calms the anxiety some. That tape had a bunch of Madonna and Bon Jovi, interspersed with just enough of what Rem likes to keep him from telling Nakoa to fuck off and replace the mix with something else.

But it’s hell, finding songs for him. It’s a fucking nightmare. Nakoa has two, right now; a Queen song and a Bowie song, and it feels like the damn thing is never going to be completed. There are a million songs out there, but they’re too cheesy. Too fast, too slow, too cheap, too cliche. Whatever Nakoa’s looking for, he hasn’t found it yet.

Rem’s hand is cold in Nakoa’s, though. There’s a chill to the air, but Rem is warm when he pulls Nakoa against him, brushes his lips against Nakoa’s hair, and laughs as he says, “You need a fucking shower.”

“Rich, coming from you.” Not that Nakoa minds; or not that he can say anything about it. They both need showers, water pressure better than what by-the-hour motels have to offer. Some fucking soap.

Nakoa hums under his breath, already trying to budget out what they’ll need. He can’t.

“What are you humming?” Rem asks. His breath is warm against Nakoa’s ear, his arm a pleasant weight over Nakoa’s waist. It’s been a few days since they’ve fucked. Rem’s been going, too much, switched on too often. Nakoa jerks him off in the van, sometimes, on open stretches of road, sometimes Rem returns the favor, but Nakoa’s getting restless.

That was the beauty of Withervale, Nakoa thinks. The opportunity to do whatever the fuck they wanted, whenever. And it’s not like they couldn’t pick any town they pleased, settle in, but the call of the open road sounds like the call of a siren, to Nakoa; irresistible.

“Sounds like Queen,” Rem says.

“Good ear.”

“Mm.” Rem’s voice is already drifting. Nakoa waits until Rem’s breathing evens out, sneaks back out to where the recorder sits on the old picnic table next to the van.

It’s dawn sooner than Nakoa expects, and there’s a vicious crick in his neck that throbs and burns when he moves his head.

But, after searching through multiple tapes, through radio stations, through mixtapes… Nakoa’s finished.

He clears his throat. Hits stop on the recorder, then hesitates, his finger over the record button again. He could say it, here. Tell Rem everything he wants to say, even though words are meaningless. It’s easy to recognize that, with Rem. The amount of things that just happen, the words that fall from Rem’s mouth.

Nakoa shoves the tape in the stereo of the van, and crawls back onto the mattress. Rem’s breathing is still slow and steady.

He doesn’t move towards Nakoa in his sleep, so Nakoa does it instead. Presses himself against Rem’s side and curls against him. Nakoa breathes him in, stretches his legs, and passes out.

He wakes to Freddie Mercury singing over staticky, broken speakers, quiet, barely audible. Nakoa stretches his arms over his head, yawns, and sits up.

Rem’s behind him, hands in his lap, picking at the last few remnants of his nail polish from his nails. Nakoa makes a mental note to pick some up, if he can find any.

Nakoa watches him, for just a moment, head tilted to the side, before Rem says, “I like this one.”

His heart swells. A grin grows on his face. “Yeah?”

Rem says nothing, though. Just starts the van, puts it into gear, and drives.

Mist surrounds them, casts the road and woods in an eerie, romantic fog, and Nakoa listens as the tracks change from one to the next, discordant in genre but similar in theme.

Rem laughs when The Scorpions play, taps his fingers against the wheel, and Nakoa feels his heart sing along with the lyrics.

When the tape ends, Nakoa takes a deep breath into the silence, his breath loud in the empty space between them. Rem says nothing, seeming content in the quiet. Nakoa wants to fill the silence, somehow, but all the words feel wrong, now. The tape has already said everything he wants to say to Rem, more eloquently, more concise.

But the miles pass, and Rem says nothing. More miles pass—and he says nothing.

Nakoa resigns himself to nothing, disappointment growing in him like a wild beast, untamed and unmanageable. He bites at his fingernail. Lights a cigarette and takes two drags before he puts it back out.

Still, Rem says nothing.

So neither does Nakoa.

[limamaqel]

@lesbian-piccolo

Ok well first off, absolute moms during the day and total engineer and sewer during the night

Hazel's fiance from like 540 years ago LOVED making clothes so she taught Hazel to sew and Hazel still to this day makes personalized clothes/accessories, its like a really tiny business she runs from home. Not popular and she isnt like super rich but she does fine by herself. Its top secret that she made the majority of Haden's clothes and Cora's favorite pair of fuzzy socks. Honestly she used to have a studio apartment but it just. Didnt have a bed. She used to sleep when she was like, not a vampire because why not but for the next 540 something years, no. BUT there are occassions where Cora and Hazel will take a nap together/have dinner together. Just for the sentimental value of it really. Hazel cant cook worth shit so if Cora didnt used to be human their poor son wouldve starved lol. "Baby if you have an empty pot on a hot burner, the pot will burn" "......... its gonna get hot anyways though right?" "... yes but-"

As for Cora, if you call her 24 she will answer but she really prefers to be called Cora. Mostly neutral but was turned into a bit of a rebel by her disaster wife. She can build like every electronic ever. She didnt wanna deal with companies so she just built their own TVs, cable boxes, internet boxes, computer, even that little boy's phone she hand made it for him. Only rule is that he have it so they can always locate his phone if its an emergency. Comes up to like Hazel's collar bone. Also built the tank Haden sleeps in and created the solution its full of with Bulma. Also was able to make it so Hazel's clothes shrink and expand with her if she were to become a bat or something. And if its long sleeves the sleeves will stretch with her arms. Same with pants legs.

They have a really happy marriage but I mean nothings perfect yknow. Sometimes they get really busy and dont get to spend much time together so it does get a little lonely around there especially when Hazel is super stressed cause she can get pretty withdrawn. Cora usually understands but yeah. They havent had a fight over it no screaming or anything bc thats for the heteros. They have a really good understanding of each other so Hazel gets the space she needs when shes upset and Hazel can cheer Cora right up (go into her lab and pretend to be super out of touch with technology/act like a typical old person "people made an entire piece of equipment with each button having a different letter and/or symbol just to they didnt have to write huh" "CAMERAS? In my day we painted portraits!" "How do things work WIRELESS?? Can they see me too?! Technology is going to kill us all!!!")

In total honesty they seem like they wouldnt be compatible at all because Hazel is just so extreme but they balance each other out like perfectly. Theyre either acceptable people together or absolute maniacs together but theyll be damned if they dont love every second no matter which one it is