#:3c here. take this terrible wall of text.

[cordiforms--a]

I was reading your rules and had to ask: why pearlmethyst? Not trying to be rude! Just curious abour your take on the ship

*   OKAY,   this  has  been  sitting  in  the  askbox  for  a  few  days  now.   i've  been  kind  of  staring  at  it,  trying  to  figure  out  how  best  to  answer  without  writing  a  wall.   i've  had  no  success,  so  here  goes  anyway.amethyst  is  literally  pearl's  perfect  other.   amethyst  is  pearl's  most  ideal  partner  in  every  sense  of  that  phrase.   mind  you,  they  can  also  be  absolutely  terrible  for  each  other  for  the  exact  reasons  that  they're  wonderful  for  each  other.  the  relationship  will  only  work  if  pearl  and  amethyst  are  healthier,  more  self-actualized  individuals  than  they  were  in,  say,  season  one.   that  having  been  said,  here's  why  they  work.   i'm  mostly  going  to  be  talking  about  this  from  pearl's  point  of  view,  because  amethyst's  pov  is  at  the  jurisdiction  of  the  ever  lovely  @thuskindlyiscatter / @roughedaround.anyway,  opposites  attract.   i  know,  i  know   —   that's  a  cheap  way  to  start  off,  but  it's  true!   pearl  needs  someone  to  counteract  her  strict  realism  and  rationalism,  someone  to  make  her  laugh,  someone  to  loosen  her  shoulders.   not  to  quote  becky,  but  remember  how  they  said  that  opal  is  a  peace  pearl  and  amethyst  can't  really  find  on  their  own?   they  bring  each  other  balance.   it's  that  sweet,  sweet  "she  was  the  kite  and  i  was  the  line"  dynamic.   they  suit  each  other  perfectly  in  this  regard;   pearl  grounds  amethyst,  and  amethyst  reminds  pearl  that  it's  okay  to  drift  for  a  little  while.   like,  at  a  most  base  level,  amethyst  brings  such  adventure  and  joy  and  laughter  into  her  life,  while  also  providing  pearl  with  something  to  protect  and  care  for.   kill  me.and  in  that  vein,  like.   amethyst  is  a  force  of  nature,  you  know?   pearl  loves  adventure,  but  she  has  that  good  ol'  fear  of  (large)  change.   amethyst  is  a  constant,  a  touchstone;  she's  always  there,  a  warm  and  familiar  presence.   and  pearl  doesn't  even  have  the  time  to  be  paranoid  about  it!   she  tends  to  stew  in  her  own  anxiety  and  mull  over  every  last  potential  bad  outcome.   she  has  difficulty  reading  other  people  sometimes,  which  mixes  terribly  with  the  fact  that  she's  hypersensitive  to  atmospheres  and  mood  changes.   pearl  can't  read  the  room  for  the  life  of  her,  but  she  knows  when  something  is  awry.   she's  able  to  tell  when  something  is  even  slightly  wrong,  but  she  won't  be  able  to  pinpoint  it,  and  so  she'll  automatically  make  a  mountain  out  of  a  molehill.   she  assumes  the  worst;  her  brain  jumps  to  the  "they're  growing  tired  of  me,"  "i've  done  something  wrong,"  etc,. etc.   and  when  pearl  IS  experiencing  these  fears,  she  gets  to  self-sabotaging.   she  starts  desperately  trying  to  circumvent  them  by  behaving  in  ways  that  ultimately  realize  them.   (i.e.,   isolating  in  hopes  that  the  person  will  follow  her  or  getting  so  unbearably,  nervously  clingy  that  she  pushes  them  away)but  amethyst  never  lets  that  happen  in  the  first  place!   she  never  gives  pearl  the  time  to  consider  these  stupid  fucking  fears!   pearl  can't  sit  and  wonder  if  amethyst  is  getting  bored  of  her  when  amethyst  is  in  her  face  all  the  time  like  HEY,  PAY  ATTENTION  TO  ME,  I  ADORE  YOU!   and  amethyst  doesn't  even  do  it  on  purpose,  that's  the  funny  thing.   she's  just  naturally  Like That.   and  amethyst  is  such  an  easy  read  too?   there's  virtually  no  guesswork!!   amethyst  is  super  transparent;  you  know  when  she  is  and  isn't  upset.   it  works  perfectly  for  pearl.and  i  have  more  shit  to  say.   like  i  could  talk  abt  how  important  it  is  that  amethyst  is  the  only  one  of  the  crystal  gems  who  hasn't  experienced  homeworld  conditioning.   i  could  talk  about  how  pearl  is  a  stupidly  romantic  individual  and  how  she's  so,  so  blown  away  by  the  fact  that  out  of  all  the  amethysts  that  could  have  emerged  late,  it  was  this  one.   it  almost  feels  like  fate!   not  that  she  believes  in  that  sort  of  thing,  of  course.   ...but  god  knows,  sometimes,  just  sometimes,  when  they're  lying  down  together  and  amethyst  has  defiantly  made  herself  the  big  spoon  despite  the  position  being  so  awkward  bc  of  their  height  difference  —  pearl  can  almost  believe  in  destiny.   every  choice  in  her  life  has  led  her  to  this  moment,  this  peace.   a  billion  and  one  things  could  have  happened  to  lead  them  in  different  directions,  but  here  they  are  despite  it  all.AND  OKAY  WAIT  HERE'S  THE  IMPORTANT  THING:  it  isn't...  obsessive.   pearl's  love  for  amethyst  isn't  a  feverish,  intense  "i'm  going  to  pour  100%  of  myself  into  this/you";  it's  a  very  sweet,  very  calm  "at  last."   it's  a  very  simple  "of  course."   in  me  and  august's  SACRED  LORE,  pearl  and  amethyst  don't  even  HAVE  a  big  confession  or  an  "okay,  we're  together  now"  moment.   it  literally  just  sort  of  HAPPENS.   like...  they  sink  into  each  other  over  the  period  of  a  couple  of  months  and  reach  an  unspoken  understanding.   like  JESUS  CHRIST. ANYWAY,  I'VE  GONE  ON  TOO  LONG  SO  JUST  TAKE  MY  WORD  FOR  IT.   amethyst  is  pearl's  perfect  opposite,  perfect  other.   thx  for  coming  to  jem's  rock  talk.

[lampmeeting]

Seth/Melm/Amber for B or JT/Melm for N?

WHY NOT BOTH 8) you know i can't resist hehehe

B for "Bed Sharing" - Seth/Melm/Amber

amber's a much lighter sleeper than seth, so she always wakes up when it happens--melmord in his room down the hall, screaming himself awake from a dream. kinda hard to miss in a mansion full of marble. shit echos.

she quietly gets up and goes to check on him like she usually does. sometimes she finds him fast asleep again, sometimes he's in tears, sometimes he's already got a joint lit and they share it. this time, he's wrapped up in his blankets, squirming around in a panic on the floor where he's fallen out of bed. amber helps free him and gets him calmed down, holds him on the floor there for a while. it's a lot like soothing her son when he's had a bad dream, but she knows melm's nightmares must come from something truly terrible. he still hasn't talked about how he got those scars. he didn't even like for amber and seth to touch him there the few times they've been intimate.

amber returns to bed, and seth wakes up and asks her what's going on.

"it's mel again... i'm just worried about him. i think his nightmares are getting worse. he fell out of bed this time, poor thing."

"we should dig out those fuckin', uh...heh, y'know, like in bowling? those bumpers we had on robbie's bed?"

bumpers... hmm. that actually gives amber an idea.

the next night, after melm secures the house and says his goodnights, amber takes his hand and gives him a slight tug towards their bedroom. "stay with us tonight, mel. you already know the bed's big enough for three."

"oh, uh... i dunno about that, ma'am. i'd probably just roll around and wake y'all up."

seth tugs him harder, grinning. "getcher ass in here already, fjordslorn."

melm finally concedes, and he seems surprised when amber doesn't take the middle position in bed. instead, her and seth settle melm in between them, and they kiss and cuddle for a little bit until he starts dozing off, nestled in safely between two warm bodies.

all three of them sleep soundly through the night, and in the morning melm wakes rested and content, and amber and seth are right there for the smooching, and then from there honestly the fic would probably just turn into a slow, relaxing morning threesome with melm getting most of the attention hehehe :3c

--

N for "Next Door Neighbors" - Melm/Twinkletits

okay we're gonna tread into AU territory here! john is just a normal-ass therapist living in santa monica. he wanted to be ~*therapist to the stars*~ but most of his clients are burnt-out food service workers who had dreams of making it big. he lives in a modest apartment, and he's never really had any problems with neighbors before, but this new guy... john isn't so sure about him.

for one thing, the guy plays music sporadically at all hours. and it's not even good. luckily john can sleep in ear plugs, so it isn't that big of a deal. but then this guy also definitely smokes a ton of pot. which, y'know, john is cool, he's hip, he's done his fair share, but he quit smoking because his cat, bananas, has kitty asthma. so far, though, bananas has been fine. the other thing is this dude keeps the WEIRDEST hours. john will leave for his office at 7am and the guy will be in pajamas, smoked out, coming up the stairs with take-out, and wish him a good night like he hasn't even slept yet.

but whatever. he seems benign enough, so john just tries not to think about him too much.

there's one night, though, when john wakes up to go pee and takes out his ear plugs, and he doesn't hear music through the wall. he does hear crying. deep, wracking sobs. sounds like the poor guy's really going through it. john has a thought to go knock on his door, but decides against it. it's 4am. maybe that would be weird of him to do. he goes back to sleep.

the next day, he doesn't hear anything from the apartment. no music, no nothing. he doesn't hear the door open or close. doesn't see him out in the hall or in the building lobby. maybe he just...went out. maybe he's visiting someone.

the next morning, john still doesn't hear him, and that's when he gets worried enough to knock on the dude's door before he heads off to work. no answer. he knocks again. and again. now he's scared, but just as he thinks to get his phone and dial for help, the lock clicks, and the door opens a little.

his neighbor looks like shit, like he hasn't washed or changed clothes in over a week, and his eyes are bleary and red. "do you... need something, man?"

now john is a bit embarrassed. he'd really thought for a second that his neighbor had... "just, uh... sorry, just been a little quiet over here lately, huh? got a little worried, that's all. apologies if i woke you up."

"s'fine... what day is it?"

"it's tuesday."

his neighbor's face pinches in confusion, then crumples in despair. "oh... uhhhh... o-okay, cool..."

john can feel himself going into papa bear therapist mode. "hey, i'm dr. john twinkletits, by the way. i'm sorry i never properly introduced myself when you moved in."

"s'okay...i-i'm melmord." he sniffles. "...you're a doctor?"

"i'm a therapist." john smiles at him. "melmord, would you maybe like to come over and have some breakfast with me? i'm just next door here. you won't be going far."

melmord fidgets, looks uncomfortable. "uhh..."

"you can meet my cat, if you'd like."

melmord suddenly tears up, nods, and john puts a hand on his shoulder to draw him out of the apartment, leading him towards his own. he'll have to text his secretary to cancel the morning's appointments, but he has a feeling it's worth it to make sure melmord is all right. :')

[sinfulredemptions]

{try blitzo?}

(btw thank you for this ask, it actually is going to double as the introduction of Stolas’s canon relationship for the Blog. APOLOGIES THIS GOT WAY OUTTA HAND:3c)

Aching Sorrow.

That was the only thing that the imp held in his chest as he sat at his desk, the rest of the crew having gone home for the evening. Blitzo stared at the large tome in his hands, his tail slowly stirring the air as he ran over the events of the past few months in his mind, his heart twisting and jerking slightly as they played back.

Oh sure, he had made it abundantly clear that he didn’t want to be anywhere NEAR the Prince, and he honestly hadn’t. Blitzo had gotten what he needed, the book, the key to success for this little family he’d built for himself and it had been worth the one bawdy night. It wasn’t his fault that someone like Stolas had been gullible enough to fall for it. There was one thing he HADN’T counted on though:

The consequences.

Much to his surprise and downright fear, Stolas had actually shown up at the Headquarters and was oddly…cold…to him. It was unnerving, and made him incredibly anxious to be in the same room as him, which meant he did whatever he could to LEAVE said room as quickly as possible. Though…how could he have known what that would have caused?By vacating so quickly, he wasn’t able to find out until much too late that the Prince had actually managed to endear himself to the rest of the staff. -HIS- staff…his makeshift little family, started to actually…enjoy the company of the Prince.

It had started with Loona, Stolas, being a father of a moody teen himself, had a bit of an upper hand when dealing with her. Especially when he handed a potion to her that would cure the disease she had contracted and even given her another preventive one for the next time, telling her so gently that if she required more, she had but to ask.

He did it as a kindness he had said…from one father to another, according to Loona. She had been suspicious at first, but then when the cure had actually worked…and Stolas did give her more to keep her safe…she had deemed him okay in her book.

Then Millie and Moxxie of all people was where he set his sights next.

How odd it had been, how GRATING on his nerves, the insult when Stolas had come in one day to ‘check up on them’ and listen to the report given at the end of the day. When Moxxie had finished, the Prince had chuckled softly and said in that irritatingly calm voice of his,

“Well well, it’s good to see you have some actual competency on this little team of yours Blitzy~ I was beginning to worry my kindness was being squandered.”

Kindness.

Yes, it had been a kindness hadn’t it? That Stolas hadn’t murdered him, hadn’t killed him in retribution for the book.

From there, it had snowballed….Stolas showed up for every end of the day report from only Lucifer knew where, and would always praise Moxxie and Millie for a job well done. He would even bring small envelopes with bonuses…and one time, Moxxie even received a new sniper rifle for his efforts.

Of course he’d protest, but Stolas just smiled. It was a COLD smile, not quite reaching his eyes, but no one else seemed to notice. “Why Blitzy, they’re doing such a good job, how could I not reward such efforts? Why…that would make me a terrible boss~” He would click his beak as he twisted the dagger with his words.

There was nothing he could say against it that wouldn’t put him in a bad light, so he held his tongue and watched helplessly as over the months, Stolas got closer….and closer…and closer to his little family.

Then it took a different turn.

When Millie and Moxxie would get off work, they would bid him a good night and then hand in hand, climb into a car that was achingly familiar and off they would go. The same vehicle dropped them off in the morning and he couldn’t help but notice things…

Hickies on both of them, Moxxie actually being less TENSE than usual and less ruffled by his playful jabs, the two of them wearing nicer clothes than usual to work, them both texting Stolas more and more often…

It was confusing at first, and then the realization hit him…

Stolas was STEALING them from him!!

It had caused a panic to well, bile sharp in the back of his throat as he realized that Stolas was systematically picking his life apart, all because he hadn’t had the balls to meet the Prince face to face and have an actual TALK.

He recalled the messages the other left. Angry at first because of the initial theft…then calmly asking for a chance to chat. Those had scared him more than anything, so he had hoped it would go away, that the Prince would lose interest in the affairs of a mere imp.

What a fool he was.

His hands gripped the book as he glanced to the phone where it lay on his desk, a message sent to Stolas about five minutes ago:

Hey, can we talk?

It was all he could muster to send, and the phone showed that it had been read, but there was no response.

“Fuck.” He sighed, putting the book down and covering his face, tail curling tight in his anxiety, when a voice spoke and nearly scared the SPOTS off him.

“Hm, do be careful Blitzy, that’s what got you into this mess in the first place after all~”

His head jerked up and his mouth went dry as Stolas stepped out of a nearby shadow, his eyes flicking downward to an open book left at the Prince’s feet. So that’s how he kept getting in here unnoticed.

“Ah! S-stolas! Heyyyy!” Blitzo tried to play off the shock, but cursed himself as the other’s name stumbled off his lips, a forced smile on his face. “Just the man I wanted to see!” He grabbed the book and moved from around the desk, trying not to let the panic well up inside him as the Prince’s intense stare followed him, the owl moving to tuck his hands behind his back and cock his head at him.

It wasn’t like before…it wasn’t playful or flirtatious…

It was downright predatory and to be honest…it terrified him.

It took everything in him to keep his knees from shaking under the heavy pressure of the owl’s gaze as he hefted the book and cleared his throat. “Ahem…I wanted to say that I’m returning your book!” He said with forced exuberance, holding it out to him, his tail flicking anxiously behind him as he forced himself to look up at the Prince.

Stolas hummed, but the sound lacked warmth as he reached out and took the tome in an elegant talon, leaning up to turn it over and inspect it to see if it was in passable condition, opening it to study its contents.

Blitzo watched his face nervously, trying to pick up on any sort of expression, angry or otherwise there, but it was like trying to read a blank wall.

The silence lingered heavily, uncomfortably, before he spoke up, wringing his hands nervously. “So, ah, now that you have THAT back, I guess this means that you really have no reason to stick around anymore right?” He asked, kicking himself for letting hope leak out into his voice.

The sound of Stolas closing the tome made him jump and he looked up at him nervously, the Prince’s smile widening just…ever so slightly, his eyes looking a bit softer which, surprisingly, didn’t make him feel any better.

“Oh Blitzy…You wish me to leave so badly don’t you~"  The prince cooed, leaning forward and reaching out.

Blitzo found himself tense, on the edge of shivering as a talon caressed down the side of his face, the claw moving under his chin and tilting his face up so he had no choice but to look the royal in the eye.

He couldn’t bring himself to say anything, his mouth opening and closing a few times before Stolas did him a favor and continued the conversation without him.

“Don’t worry…I shall….”

Blitzo sighed then, a wash of relief coming over him, his shoulders and tail dropping as the shivering knot of fear slowly unwound a bit. Though it was very short lived as things suddenly felt wrong, a heavy pressure settling on the room around them.

His eyes darted about, seeing the room starting to bleed to black, and he looked up in fear at the Prince that loomed above him now.

“After…I take back my knowledge..” Stolas murmured, all four of his eyes glowing brightly in the oppressive darkness that swallowed up the room. The smell of ink was thick in the air, and he startled when wetness touched his hoof, looking down to see a thick puddle of black ink there.

“I..I already gave you the book!” Blitzo heard himself desperately cry, not even caring as the fear leaked out into his voice, and his heart dropped when the Prince merely shook his head slightly.

“No no Blitzy dear…I’m taking back A̷̘͇̙L͙̳̠L͔͙̪̩̠ O̗̜̜̞̰͠F͏̥̹̦͎̹̮ ̖̠̙̻I̢̘͔̮T̶͔̺̻̹ͅ “

The last three words were spoken in a voice he’d never heard from the Prince and it made his blood run cold, his eyes widening as he tried to scramble back, only to be held in place by the ink at his hooves which was quickly creeping upwards.

“N-no..Stolas?! What are you doing?! STOP! NO!” He screamed, trying to fight back, but the ink caught his arms, wrenching them behind his back painfully. His eyes widened with fear as Stolas reached forward, trying his best to jerk his head away, but to no avail. Slender talons humming with bright red energy before they grabbed onto his face, claw tips resting on either side of his head and digging into his temples.

The next thing he knew was searing…agonizing pain.

It was terrifying..violating…

It was like Stolas was digging into his mind, ruthlessly looting the memories and thoughts, tears welling up in his eyes and slipping down his face as the Prince did his work.

A flex of the claws and Stolas pulled back, strings of red magic laced to his claws and Blitzo couldn’t helped the pained choke that came from him, his eyes blowing wide as the thoughts and memories of the book were ripped away from him. He had thought he was so clever, give the book back while keeping the spell for himself, easy right?

He had no idea that Stolas would do this…COULD…do this…and now he knew why the other was as feared and respected as he was.

His whole body was shaking, his stomach trying to heave and twist as Stolas pulled back and yanked the last of the memories…the knowledge from his mind and the imp could take no more.

His head fell forward, his body heaving as his stomach forced his dinner up, his body shuddering at the trauma, panting heavily and squirming. “S-stolas…please…”The Prince seemed unmoved by his sickness or his plea, focusing on gently coiling the precious knowledge he’d gathered into a lovely little ball, studying it closely before he flexed his fingers and it vanished.

“There we are..” The Prince hummed, releasing his hold and withdrawing his oppressive presence and ink, allowing the weakened imp to fall to his knees in his own sick, Blitzo shuddering and panting heavily as panic started to set in.

He chanced a look up at the Prince who tilted his head a moment, reaching into the ink at their feet, pulling out a familiar looking notebook. He barely remembered it as one where he had copied some spells for a rainy day and Stolas tutted, turning it over and riffling the pages, the ink dripping out and leaving them blank.

“Honestly Blitzy~ This could have all been solved…if you had just…listened to me.” He sighed gently, looking down at him with a soft almost sympathetic gaze, a hand reaching out and all Blitzo could do was flinch away.

“There there now….all is forgiven..” The Prince cooed, petting the side of his face with his knuckles. “Do come by and let me know if you want to keep this little business of yours going….you’ll have to pay for it honestly this time I’m afraid.”

Blitzo’s eyes widened then and he swallowed as the realization struck him.

Oh…oh no…

Without the spell..I.M.P. would go under…he had no means to remember it, Mollie and Moxxie didn’t know it, neither did Loona. He was right where Stolas wanted him, and there was nothing he could do about it.

“Y…yeah…I’ll do that..” Blitzo said in a small voice, his body feeling like it was on a different plane of existence. He was shaky, weak…like he could barely think straight, his mind panicking at the new found gap in memory and trying desperately to fill it with knowledge that no longer existed.

The Prince hummed and turned then, tucking his tome under his arm, and walking a few steps away before he sighed and looked back at him.

“I had wanted to tell you that I -was- sorry Blitzy…for what I had said when I was angry…but….you just couldn’t let me. You had to run…you had to hide from what you did…but now…I’m sure you understand just what a foolish mistake that was. I cared for you….and you took advantage of me. You stole from me…violated the tender trust I gave you. You fooled me once….relish in it…because it will be the last time it ever happens.” Stolas said with a cold note to his voice that made Blitzo twitch back.

Stolas was right…he had brought this on himself…

With his own cowardice and arrogance…he had doomed his company and lost the companionship of one who had actually seen him as something more than just an imp. Once again Stolas’s voice cut through the static of his mind, teary eyes staring up at the prince as he looked down at him as though he were just a mere stain on the carpet.

“Now you get to deal with the consequences of your actions…you stole from me…and now I from you. I hope it was worth it. Now excuse me…Millie and Moxxie are waiting for me.”

With a flutter of a regal cape and a step onto the discarded book and the Prince was gone, leaving him kneeling on the floor, shivering and trying to piece his mind back together enough to clean up and go home.

What had he done?

[melancoryphus]

50 Questions You Have Never Been Asked

i was tagged by @loverofelves​ :3c thank u <3

1. What is the color of your hairbrush?

black, nothing special, my mom got it from a dollar store for me bc my old one was literally falling apart but i refused to replace it

2. A food you never eat?

the only thing i can think of that i would probably not eat even if that meant it gets thrown away is steak, or any cut of red meat. i have a lot of trouble swallowing it for some reason. most other foods i hate i would still rather eat than waste them

3. Are you typically too warm or too cold?

theres no really comfortable temperature for me i think. im always either too warm or too cold. but since i spend most time in my bedroom which only gets sunlight for about 4 hours a day, im usually too cold

4. What were you doing 45 minutes ago?

painting with watercolours and listening to music

5. What is your favorite candy bar?

i avoid sweets so i dont really know the different breeds of candy bar

6. Have you ever been to a professional sporting event?

ive participated in a few swimming tournaments when i was younger and a friend dragged me to see an ice hockey match a few years ago

7. What was the last thing you said out loud?

'hey’ at my cats because they were climbing my shelf....

8. What is your favorite ice cream?

not really a flavour, but strawberry sundae, with real strawberries and white chocolate... theres nothing quite like it

9. What was the last thing you had to drink?

tap water

10. Do you like your wallet?

its a huge black leather wallet. i wanted one like this really bad when i was like 14 yrs old, now i kinda think its too big. but i like that it has space for all kinds of clutter like cards and pictures... i want to say i feel neutral about it but considering how long ive had it im probably at least a little attached

11. What was the last thing you ate?

a small bowl of plain oats with milk for breakfast

12. Did you buy any new clothes last weekend?

no... im saving my money for useless things rn!

13. The last sporting event you watched?

im really not into sports so whenever i watch sports it i dont do so deliberately. uhm. i think biathlon was on tv one time a few months ago when i visited my dad

14. What is your favorite flavor of popcorn?

i like it when its sweet but not so much that your fingers get terribly sticky from it

15. Who was the last person you sent a text message to?

my dad probably

16. Ever go camping?

yea i went camping w my dad a lot when i was younger, almost every summer for 8 years. im mentioning my dad a lot here. we are not as close as one might think

17. Do you take vitamins?

no

18. Do you go to church every Sunday?

no im too pretty

19. Do you have a tan?

no, but my right arm is a bit red from sitting on my balcony too long yesterday

20. Do you prefer Chinese food or pizza?

depends entirely on my mood, i dont have a general preference

21. Do you drink your soda with a straw?

only when i want to act like a slut which is never

22. What color socks do you usually wear?

i usually wear black tights

23. Ever drive above the speed limit?

I CANT DRIVE AND I NEVER WILL and if you drive above the speed limit thats +5 on your sin counter. i will know

24. What terrifies you?

those scary creepypasta images, communication, and anything unpredictable. also the possibility that jjba part 7 will be animated entirely in cgi

25. Look to your left what do you see?

a manga panel of dio i traced and taped to my wall, a bunch of jjba prints, and a tiny sticker of diego

26. What core do you hate?

if this is about music... i actually dont even want to spell out the name of that genre, thats how disgusting it is. its got to do with anime

27. What do you think of when you hear an Australian accent?

that time in like, 7th grade, where english class was mostly about learning australian vocabulary

28. What is your favorite soda?

i dont drink soda im so scared of the liquid sugar but like cherry or vanilla coke probably

29. Do you go into a fast food place or just hit the drive through?

i dont ever go to fast food places, but if i did id hit the drive thru. inside its too loud and i hate when people can watch me eat

30. Who was the last person you talked to?

in person... my dad i think

31. Favorite cut of beef?

its all bad

32. Last song you listened to?

all the fools sailed away by dio (the band with real life people in it)

33. Last book you read?

der unsichtbare apfel by robert gwisdek. im still reading it actually im just too busy to finish anything rn

34. Favorite day of the week?

saturday of course!! although last night there was someone in front of my window at 3am who screamed for two seconds for seemingly no reason. this stuff doesnt happen on weekdays

35. Can you say the alphabet backwards?

no and im self conscious about it

36. How do you like your coffee?

black!!

37. Favorite pair of shoes?

my dr martens mary janes... easy to get in and out of... simple... cute... whats not to love. theyre starting to fall apart tho bc i wear them all the time

38. At what time do you usually go to bed?

between 9 and 11 pm

39. At what time do you normally get up?

between 5 and 9 am

40. What do you prefer - sunrises or sunsets?

emotionally, sunrises bc sunsets remind me that the day is over and my time has run out... but aesthetically, sunsets

41. How many blankets are on your bed?

two, one weighted and one normal

42. Describe your kitchen plates?

plain white... super boring and i hate them but i used to live with a minimalist and tried to be considerate to avoid conflict

43. Do you have a favorite alcoholic beverage?

rum w cola or pina coladas, but i usually avoid alcohol. makes me feel like a soggy sponge and so sleepy. hate it

44. Do you play cards?

no all card games are bad!!

45. What color is your car?

i cant drive

46. Can you change a tire?

i cant even consider learning how to do it

47. What is your favorite province?

*nods*

48. Favorite job you ever had?

i hate jobs and careers and i would sooner let myself get exploded into a thousand pieces by impact with a speeding train than take up a job again

49. How did you get your biggest scar?

i was 15, in a really bad place mentally, and tried to make a point to someone... uh oh!

50. What did you do today that made someone happy?

this question is guilt tripping me

[selemina]

(Play with your npcs more! Tell me about your favorite npcS IN first casters and what makes you like them so much and what's most fun to play about them? :D)

... Oh my god you should not enable me so much, friend. XD There’s nothing I love more than to rent about universes and characters, be ready for an absolute WALL of text! XD

So first, let’s tackle Damien!

Damien is a street kid : he’s been growing up in the poor district. His parents are an unfortunate couple : abusing mother with a foul temper, spineless soft dad too afraid to defend himself, and a sister that eventually turned maniac and tried to kill their mom. As a result, for most of his life, Damien has been the only one keeping the house standing : standing up to his mother on the rare occasions that she came home, and trying to responsibilize his father despite the fact that he’s terrified of Damien. Because of his history of abuse victim, his father struggles to get close to him, flinching at the slightest raise in voice, and well... Damien is a passionate kid. He also has no problem beating up people he doesn’t like, like a young vigilante, to the point where people in the poor district know him by name... but more as a violent, rabid dog than as a noble crime-fighter. Damien’s fights are usually messy... His only friend is Alexia, that has befriended him one pastry at a time, until he would literally die for her. And then, after the magic started waking up, one day he just.... turned into a tiefling!

Since tieflings are new in this world (and look like devils), of course he couldn’t show himself, so instead they managed to make him a ring enchanted with an Alter Self spell that he can wear at work.

Why I like playing him : ever dreamed of charging a group of thugs from a dark alley and having them actually panick? :D No but more seriously, Damien is just learning to have more friends, and actually be wanted and included after having been alone most of his life. He’s also being teased without fear, and shown endless kindness, and he’s slowly opening up. Seeing him be begrudgingly positive and agressively supportive is a joy! :D He has yet to go absolutely feral but I’d love to see that! ;) Also it’s always fun to be able to play a character that can go from screaming to reluctant silence with just one donut being handed to him. XD

May I talk to you about Lord Peter of the Blackwoods? :3c

Originally from the other world, Mira, Peter is another unfortunate soul. Drafted for a war he had no stake in, he was left for dead on a battlefield. At the time, those bloodbaths were so prolific that vampires in the area were growing complacent and fat, so creating more was a luxury many afforded. He was turned and introduced to the delicately balanced and measured world of the children of the night along with a few others. But then, the war stopped... No more battlefield to scour for food. So his flight headed further inland, looking for more thralls and more food. Unfortunately, in the wake of the war, a terrible plague had found the nearby cities... and with horror, they discovered that it could jump to vampires. Around this time, he guided his weakening flight to a necromancer who promised to help... But soon enough, they realized said necromancer was actually experimenting on them during the day when they were out cold, looking for the secret to their immortality instead of finding a solution against the plague. Peter struck him down, and once again moved with his remaining brothers and sisters, further inland... After the vampire infestation from the war, hunters had multiplicated, and soon his entire flight was recorded and hunted down, vampires scattering in search of safety. Left alone, he holed up in an abandonned mansion deep in the Blackwoods, wanting for nothing more than to be left undisturbed. Taking the occasional suicidal people that came to find him in the hopes of ending their lives, and those looking for immortality, he gathered a small following of thralls to come visit him occasionaly for food, but that he insisted must have a normal life away from him most of the time. Eventually though, the thrall presence in the area alerted the hunters, and they rallied the nearby towns to go walk on the mansion, setting it ablaze, and killing Peter inside. While he should have gone back to his coffin to reform and recover, Peter... drifted, and woke up on Earth instead. Seeing this as an oportunity to start over and reclaim some of his lost humanity, he has made a very strict point to not harm anyone, not make any thralls or any other vampire. He kept Courtney from bleeding out after a robbery gone wrong, and has been found by the group and protected ever since, keeping a low profile.

Why I enjoy playing Peter : Suave motherfucker! A noble trying to stop his tendency to be extra, because he’s not in any vampiric court anymore. Very proper and crafty, he has repressed his power-play tendencies A LOT.. And recently got to stretch a bit and flexe on Dylan, and that was SO satisfying! XD He could demand attention and worship if he felt like it, and force people into serving him, but... First, he wants to change, truly wants to go back to being an equal to humans, and second... Ivan would backhand him and put him back in his place immediately. XD And he’s not ready for the emotional whiplash of being told to sit down by a man shorter than him. ;) Although I hope I can show soon how truly, deeply dangerous Peter can be...

Oh hey, speaking of people that got flexed on, it’s Special Agent Dylan Ross! :D

Dangerous organisations? Underground cults? Mafia? Organized crime? Those are Dylan’s usual scene. Get in, gather information, relay his finds with a precise plan of action, and let his general take care of taking the initiative and getting all of the glory for it. Dylan is the kind of man to light a cigarette while walking away from a building on fire. However... magic? ...Sure, why the fuck not, there are actual videos of a group of kids forcing a walking tree back into a forest, and others of a gigantic wolf and two pups in astreet, from multiple people. Reports of cult activity, too, that turns out to have been... actual animated scarecrows, that kidnapped people? Alright. Sure. ....And now people are growing horns. What the fuck is happening in this place? Put all of that shit on lockdown! Blame it... blame it on Covid-19, the medias won’t mind! (My players groaned at me when they heard about it being used as a plot point, it was great! XD contemporary world, after all!) And now, to investigate. Seems the local police, after a bit of pressure, admitted hiring... kids? Magic users, for things they couldn’t handle on their own. Following the trail, he went after a few of them, not fast enough as they skipped town... But not everybody went, so eventually he managed to get a hold of Alexia, and later Ivan. Expecting a LOT of bullshit and secrets, he found both to be fairly forthcoming with informations? Even helpful? Huh. that’s new in his line of work... A few tests and unethical trials later, he had to recognize he was unprepared for whatever THIS was... For fuck’s sake, the vampire he met put his entire backup team of highly trained soldiers to sleep before talking to him! And then read his entire health situation just from a drop of blood! And now his mind keeps coming back to him, again and again, it’s distracting. There’s also this Archeon guy, his best hope of finding a scientific way to measure magic, scolding him every time he’s a little abrasive. And now the well-behave Alexia revealed that she is linked to a “patron”, the founder of her school, trapped in the school’s statue? Yeah, sure! ....Until the statue animates and points it’s cane straight at his face! ....dylan might actually need help on this one.

Why I like to play Dylan : MY PLAYERS HATE HIM! XD He is a sassy, venomous, unpleasant man, with just enough humanity to keep people from truly doing anything about him. It’s really fun for me, who is usually a nice person, to be able to be unbashedly rude as a tired, sleep-deprived special agent in over his head! XD He is also a perceptive, crafty bastard : he threatened Alexia with an entire firing squad just to see what her immediate response would be, fight or flight! Everything he does is dangerous, and he can tell when people are bullshitting him from a mile away! And he fully knows that he’s a bastard, he owns up to it : someone has to be the bastard and get shit done. Might as well be an efficient bastard, and get on everybody’s nerves! And yet, he can listen to reason. He’s able to cooperate to get to his goal, listen to advices, and take good decisions. He is very fun to play! :D (Also I can hear the groans from my players when he shows up, voluntary or not, and I live for their visceral reactions. XD)

We’ve talked about Oni quite a bit already, but.. yeah, Oni. XD

Originaly from the north of France, his thunder demon ancestry came to him after the magic had started reappearing, showing that the event is not limited to the area around Paris... With his Ancestor pushing him to carve himself a place in the world, he went on to find “the strongest caster” and duel her one on one. Let me tell you, this whole session was incredible... XD It was the first time I was introducing a villain MEANT to be a villain and not to be reasoned with. Buuut, well... He got beat fair and square. XD Then failed to escape. Then was executed, and his body was melted and burried. ...Then later that night, Ivan came around with a diamound and resurrected him, because nobody wanted to actually be murderers. And that’s how Oni realized he had been messing with the wrong crowd : he was here to hurt, when they were here to KILL. Needless to say, that put him in his place, and gave him time to think. With his life dept to Ivan, he can’t really run away and try to rebuild himself ; his family has thrown him out after his fugue, and now he lives at the Standon household as an unofficial adopted son. XD He tries to be useful around the house, but wishes he had more reasons to fight... Why I love to play Oni : A RESURRECTED VILLAIN IN DND IS JUST SO UNEXPECTED! XD How does one cope with that? Oni is still struggling to find his place, but at least now he’s open to the idea of helping to defend the town instead of just running in head first and crushing everything on his path! I enjoy his ancestor’s code of honor : Essentially, BE BIG. Either make this territory yours and be feared and respected, or recognize those that defeated you and serve them with all your might. Sometimes, being the biggest around doesn’t mean killing : if you keep an army from assaulting a town just because you are sitting at it’s gate, it is also a victory! Be a force to be reckoned with, either for yourself if you’re strongest, or for those above you if you are not. Be invaluable, be reliable, be fearsome. Sucess is when men throw down their arms the moment they see you. Oni is trying to reach this level of strength... but he is also the only man alive to have been resurrected, when nobody else has. People more worthy than him could have been brought back, but no, this miracle fell on him. And he’s uncertain how to feel, having had such an impossible gift offered to him, a humbled nobody, of all people. The weight on his shoulders is heavier than one might know.

Oh hey it’s Master Kavoleg! :D

(seen here with his assistant and Earth-discoverer, Salin! :D) High level mage, high level mage, high lev- XD I LOVE Master Kavoleg! He’s a bit of a hermit, but always ready to help, curious, clever, his has very nice maners, he’s prone to throwing spells in the air when he’s frustrated at a bunch of bickering diplomats... His tower/library, the White Tower, is built right over a place of power, and is a hub for a lot of free wizards, students and experts, coming to do quiet research. Although business has been slow lately, it gives him the opportunity to meet the Earthlings and both learn and teach once more. As an influent person of interest, he is well placed to influence Mira’s approach to Earth in a favorable way, and to give advice on how to handle the surge of magic energy in the other world. People talk about him with reverance, and he is an approachable if imposing figure... as long as you’re not wasting his time.

Why I love to play Kavoleg : *slaps tiefling* “This Wizard can fit so many secrets! :D” I am SO excited to have the team discover a few of them, but... in due time. In due time. XD He is a soft, elegant man, with a certain disregard for people’s misplaced pride. He has a note of mischief to him (giving literal translations of places’ names to the Earthlings, underlining how SIMPLE they sound when not in the different languages, like they’re usually presented) that I love playing, and his relationship to Salin and his new assistant Elias is wonderful to play out! He is a tranquil force, powerful and wise but comfortable. He is very... Well, very comfortable for me to play! XD

And there we have it! :D I hope this was complete enough. There’s so much in there! XD

[lovehotelreservation]

here's another one :3c "sleeping all alone, i've been craving too long": a lovesick giorno misses you terribly with you leaving for a mission that would take a few days; and while you were gone he had to quell his desire for your touch with his own hands, all while hoping that you would burst out from his bedroom door and take him right then and there. luckily for passione's don, his wish to have you again in his arms would be granted sooner than he expected.

WORDS CAN’T HURT GIORNO BECAUSE HIS SHADES ARE GUCCI

BUT UR ABSENCE WILL SURE AS HELL STING HIM LIKE A MFER

Within the aged,��fresco decorated walls of a lavish Florentine mansion for a deal, or in the midst of a heated battle to settle a turf war, as Don to Passione, Giorno has learned how to maintain his composure no matter the situation. Though he could always look to his subordinates–his friends–for support, a leader must never lose face, both in consideration to the organization and in spite of his enemies.

However, he was not infallible to weakness, with one in particular being the cause of jovial teasing from the likes of Mista and Narancia.

That reason being you.

Truly, nothing reduced the driven and cunning leader of Passione into a love-stricken disarray quite so easily as you. If you were upset, he would scour the world to find anything and everything to bring a smile back to your face. If you were sick, he would remain by your bedside, far too caught up with worry to consider other matters unless absolutely necessary.

If, as in this case, you had to take off for a mission that served the interests of both Passione and the Speedwagon Foundation, he was as blue as could be. Though he never abandoned his duties and responsibilities, there was a noticeable lethargy in his demeanor, his yearning for your return leaving him checking his phone often for any texts or calls.

At best, he would squeeze in a spontaneous trip to Milan to pick up some new stunning outfits to surprise you upon your return.

At worst, as he currently was doing, he was sprawled over the floor of your walk-in closet, his golden curls loose from its braid and sticking to his forehead from perspiration, his suit pants undone while he shamelessly jerked off his cock with burning need, each stroke becoming all the more graceless and frantic. The scent of your favorite perfume wafted through the roomy space from when he spritzed the bottle a few times just moments ago.

Barely a full week had passed with you gone and he was already like this.

Usually by his fortitude, he could withstand your absence by at least a month. However, having returned from a shopping trip on your behalf, he was in the middle of putting your new belongings away when he noticed a bottle of your perfume. 

The last time he spoke to you was yesterday morning.

It was nearing midnight at this point.

He couldn’t contain himself.

Overwhelmed by your scent and surrounded by so many elegant outfits that he wished to either tear right off your body, or have you wear while he pounded his cock into your core, he was left in a helpless state of desire and longing. He was parched, starved for you, for the taste of your skin against his lips, for the unique sound of his name being uttered by–

“Giorno?”

It wasn’t often that he was in the receiving end of a surprise. However, with the realization that your closet door was still ajar with the fluorescent lighting from within shining out into the bedroom, your reasons to peer curiously inside was understandable.

Similarly, seeing your lover lying on your closet floor while in the midst of pleasuring himself, an empty shopping from La Perla and your underwear drawer still partially open, his reasons to immediately rise up from the floor to seize you into his arms and guide you over to your bed was just as sound.

With your clothes soon littering the floor, it made you glad that you took up Narancia’s texted suggestion that you keep your return a surprise to Giorno.

From desperately seeking relief by his own hand while flat on his back to looming above you as he pumped his cock into your core with thundering vehemence. He handled you not as a brute, but as a man who was cradling the world within his palms. His lips either smothered yours or were kissing over your bared skin, seeking to taste and to claim.

Even as you enjoyed the abundance of pent-up affection being cast your way, you still couldn’t resist from slyly letting out the teasing words of, “Seems like you missed me, Giorno.”

The warmth of his hand pressed against your cheek while he cradled it gently, loving reverence clearly reflected in his eyes while he gazed down at you. While the smile on his face was sweet, his words were gentle even as they were serious with intent.

“As the Sun misses the Earth, amore mio. What’s clear to me now is that our missions should be handled together from here on out~”

[klanced]

Do you have any advice for rising high school freshmen with adhd bc i start school in 2 days an im gonna freak :0

this is the moment where i shine luna i have been dying to give adhd advice. at any given moment, i want to give advice for living with adhd. i love u.

I will try to prevent this from becoming a big wall of text!!

TAKE YOUR MEDS. Assuming you are prescribed meds, take them. Do not skip. Do not experiment with your dosage. In middle school, you could get away medsless or w messed up meds and not suffer too much. The same cannot be said for high school. 

Messing with my medication schedule gave me 100000% times more anxiety because it 1. Messed with my heartbeat, and 2. It severely impaired my ability to perform well in the classroom. 

You will be too busy shaking and fidgeting to listen to what the teacher said. And that in turn will raise your anxiety. It’s a terrible, awful cycle.

On that note, always make sure to eat!!! I know that waking up at 6am is the like worst thing in the world and should be punishable under the Geneva Convention, but skipping breakfast to nab those extra 15 minutes of zzz’s is not worth it. I don’t know how Scientifically True this is, but I’ve always found that it’s Really Bad to take your meds on an empty stomach.

Also, breakfast is just important?? You’re going to want to die anyway during your morning classes, but you’ll really want to die if you’re starving. Plus, being hungry always makes me dizzy and tired!!! (On that note: Do not sleep through class.)

In addition, make sure to eat lunch!!! I always skipped lunch because I’m a Fool and it honestly made me very weak and lethargic and way too skinny. It wasn’t worth it. Eat your lunch!

And maybe pack snacks??? Idk man, my metabolism is wack af and I’m always hungry, which oftentimes made me distracted in class. Remember: We will always be at a disadvantage because of our ADHD. Our bodies and minds will take advantage of every excuse to become distracted. If you’re suffering from hunger pains, I guarantee you that your empty stomach will be the only thing your body focuses on, even if you’re in the middle of taking an exam.

Stay organized!!! Keep a planner! Make to-do lists! Leave sticky note reminders for yourself! ADHD absolutely FUCKS with your ability to manage time, and yourself, effectively. 

I repeat: We are at a disadvantage. It doesn’t mean we’re automatic losers, or failures, or that we should give up before we even start. It means we need to work twice as hard to be just as good.

Rise to the challenge and kick everyone’s asses, including your own. Especially your own. Which sounds ridiculous, because I am my own worst keeper, but I’ve found that at the end of the day, you only have yourself. So you might as well as make this bitch someone you can rely on.

SET ALARMS!!!!! Always set alarms! Set multiple wake up alarms if you have a problem of sleeping in, and make sure to space them out by a couple of minutes. In fact, put your clock on the other side of the room so you have to get up to turn it off! Set alarms in the bathroom. In the morning, I’m so tired that sometimes I end up hyperfocusing while brushing my teeth. I once brushed my teeth for a solid twenty minutes, it’s really bad. Set alarms/reminders so you don’t do that!!!

On that note: Please for the love of God try to leave your phone/electronics downstairs when you go to bed. ‘Oh I’m really tired,’ you say, ‘I won’t go on my phone I’ll just go to bed.’ You are lying. You will go on your phone. You will stay up until 2am on your phone. Do not keep it by your bedside.

I personally use an alarm clock to wake up, and then keep my phone with its timers in my bathroom so I stay on track.

Try to study!!! I know it’s the worst thing in the world but you need to build up the habit!! It will be essential for junior/senior year and college. 

I spent most of high school not studying and while I turned out okay, I didn’t do my best work! Which I’m still really unsatisfied by. Do not settle for B-s, or Bs, or B+s. GET THE GRADES YOU DESERVE!!!! GET THAT MOTHERFUCKING GPA!!!

Ask for help!!! In HS, I never asked for accommodations when it came to tests or extra time. I had too much pride, I was embarrassed to ask for help, I wanted to be like ‘the other kids.’ We are not like the other kids. 

I keep saying this, but it’s a fact: we are at a disadvantage. If you want to be as good as everyone else, you will have to do everything to keep up and pull ahead. Ask for accommodations. Get the help you need, so that one day you won’t need it.

On a side note: You cannot get accommodations on a teacher-by-teacher basis! You need to approach your nurse and maybe guidance counselor first, give them the appropriate documentation, hash out a plan, and then you can bust down your chemistry teacher’s door and say ‘guess fucking what.’ True story!

Here’s my final bit of advice: Make great friends, confide in those friends, and rely on those friends!! On my worst days, where I could barely focus on myself let alone any verbal directions given out during class, I knew I could trust my friends to explain to me what I missed. 

Obviously, do not 100% expect them to hold your hand during everything. It’s important that you try to be independent. But you shouldn’t feel embarrassed if you need someone to reexplain to you what you’re doing during class time.

One of my best friends was in my chemistry class with me junior year. Chemistry labs were… awful for me. I was always very stressed, because there are a lot of little directions and precise expectations and sometimes it can get overwhelming. I’m deathly afraid of messing up, so I often had Alex double check every step I did. I also kept like 2 or 3 lab direction handouts in front of me at all times so I could double-check where I was in the lab, etc.

Again, all of my advice is off the top of my head so feel free to hmu if you have any specific questions/worries!! I will try to help!! I like helping!!!! :3c

Anyway, good luck! You will be fine. But do your best to be great! 

[corrahdarling]

The Cure- Ch. 7- Roses

TITLE OF STORY: The Cure CHAPTER NUMBER/TITLE/ONE SHOT: Chapter 6 of ? AUTHOR: loveCorrah WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: Actor!Tom and OFC Olivia GENRE:  Romance, Angst, Smut FIC SUMMARY: After Tom has to take his sick niece to the pediatrician, he strikes up a fancy for the beautiful Doctor. The more he finds out about Olivia, the more he wants to know. How will he react when secrets about her past come to light? RATING: Explicit (eventually!) WARNINGS/TRIGGERS/AUTHORS NOTES:   FEEDBACK/COMMENTS:  So sorry that it’s taken so long to get a new chapter up… this is a long one. :) If you need a reminder of Chapter 6, you can find it here! Feedback is always wanted and valued!  <3C

____________________________________________

              After slipping back into his jeans, Tom fell back into Livi’s fluffy bed and pondered the night before. The way her soft skin felt against his… how she sounded as he pleasured her… the way the beautiful ink on her sides moved as she squirmed in her bed… the way she smelled as he buried his nose in her hair – like roses and amber. He could smell that scent all around him. Her pillows smelled of it, her sheets… and now him. He knew that he probably needed a shower before he left the flat, but he couldn’t bear to wash her off.             Her bedroom was rather bare, spare for a mirrored bedside table. On it, was a photo of herself and another woman. The other woman laid her head on Livi’s shoulder, and they were in front of a beautiful lake. He made a mental note to ask her who this other woman was later. She couldn’t hide herself from him forever, could she? 

                  He swung his legs over the side of the bed, and padded into the kitchen to find some food. He couldn’t believe that things were progressing as quickly as they were with Olivia. He really liked her, and hoped that she wouldn’t be scared off by the feelings that he knew were beginning to develop. He made himself an egg, sunny side up, and a couple pieces of toast, that he enjoyed while sitting on her couch. He chuckled to himself as he looked around the living room. What was he thinking, getting involved with a woman that could potentially hurt him? Although, if he was going to be hurt, he’d prefer it to be by a woman like Olivia.                  His phone rang and vibrated against the coffee table. When he looked at the screen, he could see that it was a Facetime Call. “Oh, Chris H. wants to Facetime with me, does he?”                He accepted the call and watched as a large blond man came into view on the screen.               “Hey, Mate!”               “Morning, Chris!”               “Where in the world are you?” Chris asked as he looked at Tom’s background. The last he knew, Tom didn’t have pink pillows and a picture of Audrey Hepburn hanging on his wall.              “Oh, uh… I’m at Olivia’s flat… a woman I met.”              “Ah, yes, I saw her on the internet.”             “She wasn’t too fond of having her name and picture all over the gossip sites.”             “I can imagine not. That’s hard for some people to handle.”             Tom nodded but diverted his eyes to the bookshelf.             “Anyway, I’ll be landing soon.”             “Are you sure you don’t want me to come pick you up at the airport?”             “No… no…I’m renting a car. I’ve got some things to do while I’m in London.”            “Well, alright, then. See you a little later.”            “Later, mate.”            They ended the call, and he finished eating and washed his dishes, leaving the kitchen as clean as it was before he started cooking. He needed to get a move on, as he had to get to rehearsal. He had a performance tonight, and a party afterward. He quickly slipped back into his t-shirt and black cardigan, pulled his suede boots on, and made his way out the door, making sure to lock it on the way out.

               ****

           Olivia made her way through London traffic to the hospital, and pulled into her parking spot in the parking garage. She pulled her coat and bags from the passenger seat, locked her car, and walked toward the hospital entrance. She tried not to think about Tom. She tried to not think about how glorious it felt to have his weight on top of her… and she tried not to think about how warm and affectionate he had been the night before. She had done so well as to stay out of relationships until now… what was she thinking? She was letting herself begin to fall in love with this man, and as hard as she tried to decide to go to Washington, she just couldn’t. It had been so easy to run away before… but she couldn’t make up her mind to run away this time.             “Morning, Doc.”             “Morning, Claire. When’s my first appointment?” She asked as she slipped into her white doctor’s coat.            “8:30.”            Olivia looked at her watch, which read 8:10 a.m. “Thank goodness. I need some coffee. Can I bring you some?”            “I don’t think so, Doc.”            After returning from the cafeteria with a large cup of coffee, Olivia took a seat in her office and began doing some paperwork before her first appointment arrived. Her phone vibrated in the pocket of her doctor’s coat. She bit her lip as the name ‘Thomas H.’ appeared on her phone.

8:21 A.M.

I hope you made it to work safely. I noticed the traffic’s a bit congested this morning. I made myself an egg, and let myself out. Don’t fret, I locked the door behind me. Have a lovely day, Olivia. If you change your mind about the party, let me know.

-TH

She sighed. She wished she could go to the party with Tom, but things just weren’t that simple. Her life would never be that simple.

8:24 A.M.

Thanks, Tom. I’m glad you had breakfast. I’m sorry that I tried to leave without waking you this morning. I’m terrible with these morning after things. I had a great night last night… with you. -O

8:28 A.M.

I had a fantastic time with you too, Olivia. When can I see you again? Hopefully I won’t have to fly all the way to Washington to do it? -TH

She smiled as she replied to his text. 

8:30 A.M.

No, I’ve decided to finish out my time here in London. I’ll be here for 3 more months at least, but then I can’t promise anything. I‘ll have to go where I’m called. Have a good day, Tom. Break a leg tonight. -O

                ****

               She turned her phone on silent as she saw her first few patients – including twin toddlers with colds, 2 babies with ear infections, and a teenager with a broken wrist. When she finished putting the boy’s arm in a cast, she went to the nurse’s station outside the door to fill in some of her charts.                “Olivia, you’ve got a visitor… he’s been waiting in your office for a while now.” Claire said as she approached Livi from the back.                Her stomach dropped. “A visitor? Who is it?”                “You’d never believe me if I told you.”                Livi huffed. “Oh, I bet I would… with the way my luck has been going… So? Who is it?”                “Chris Hemsworth.” Claire giggled.                “Who?”                “Oh my gosh, Olivia. Chris Hemsworth! Thor!”                “Ohh… Why would he be in my office?”                Claire shrugged. “I don’t know. This is the second hot actor you’ve had in here in the last two weeks. Maybe I need to be asking for your secrets…”                “Uh… no, it’s not like that.” Livi said as she slowly walked toward the closed door of her office. She knocked lightly before poking her head in and eyed the very large actor sitting in one of the chairs in front of her desk. She extended her hand to him.              “Hello, Mr. Hemsworth. I’m Olivia Beckett. What can I do for you today?” 

           “Oh, please call me Chris. It’s wonderful to meet you, Dr. Beckett.”            Her eyebrows raised in question as she stared at this blond man that was nearly as tall as a tree. His accent was definitely Australian. She recognized it from her time in Brisbane.            “Oh, I’ll bet you’re wondering what I’m doing here.”            “As a matter of fact, I am.” She smiled at him. “Take a seat, please.” She motioned to the chair before closing her office door. “It’s not every day that I get famous actors in my office.”             “Ah, yes...” He hesitated, and seemed almost uncomfortable. “Dr. Beckett,-”             “Please, call me Olivia.”             He grinned a wide, white smile. “Okay, Olivia… I, uh… I just wanted to meet the woman that my best friend was falling for.”            “Your best friend?” Suddenly, she remembered Tom saying something about his friend flying in today. Surprise! “I assume you mean Tom.”            “Yes. He won’t stop talking about you. He has no idea I’m here, by the way, so let’s keep it between us, please.”            “Hmm… how did you find me, if he doesn’t even know you’re here?”            He chuckled. “Well, it wasn’t that hard. Your picture and name is all over the internet.”            “Oh, yeah… that.” She had been so wrapped up in Tom the last couple of days that she had momentarily forgotten about the internet thing.            “I hope you don’t think I’m being too forward, I just wanted to meet you. He said you weren’t going to attend the performance and party tonight.”           “Uh… no. Bad things seem to happen when I go to the Donmar.”           He smiled. “So, you’re a physician. You seem to be doing well for yourself. Tom said you were a traveling doctor, so you’d probably only be in London for three more months.”           Olivia looked down at her hands that were folded in her lap. “That’s what I do, Chris. My job is to travel. Sometimes I’m in a place for 3 months, or 6 months… or a year. Depending on how long a hospital needs me.”           He nodded, and gazed out of the fourth floor window that was in her office. Olivia could tell that there was more he wanted to say, but he didn’t know how. She looked at her watch. “Chris, I don’t mean to be rude, but I have an appointment at 1, and it’s 12:58… can you get to the real reason you’re here?”            “I just wanted to chat for a moment. Tom’s a very sensitive guy. He falls in love easily, and gets his heart broken even more easily…”            “… and you think I’m going to break his heart?” She looked at him, unbelieving.            “I didn’t say that, I just… I’m tired of seeing him get hurt by women that either can’t handle the spotlight… or use him for his money. I want him to be happy. If you think that you’ll have to leave soon, or foresee any other problems, please don’t lead him on. He also mentioned something about a guy friend of yours that came with you to the performance the other night? Is that all he is, a friend?”            Olivia stared at Chris with her mouth agape. She couldn’t believe what he was saying to her. Really, anyone would be lucky to have a friend that cared for them enough to do something like this, but it just made her angry that he had the nerve to come to her office and accuse her of leading Tom on. She huffed and squeezed the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger.             “I know you have the best of intentions, Chris, but don’t you think that Tom’s old enough to handle his own business?”            “Of course. I’m just tired of seeing him upset, like I said.”            Livi walked to her door, opened it, and looked at Chris expectantly. “Okay, well, you’re going to have to excuse me, I need to get back to work.”            “I’m sorry if I offended you. I’m just looking out for my friend.”            She smiled. “You just accused me of being a gold-digger, a cheater, and a bad person… why would that offend me?”           He stood up and put his hands up in surrender. “Olivia, I didn’t mean that, please-…”           “I need to get to work.”          Chris sighed before nodding his head in defeat. “Well, thank you for your time.”           Livi watched him walk out of her door, and didn’t take her eyes off of him until he was successfully out of the clinic.           “What was that about, Doc? He looked angry.”           “Apparently, he’s Tom’s best friend. He came to size me up… and make sure I wasn’t going to hurt him.”           “Ohh… well, that only means one thing.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “You slept with Tom… Usually, men only get crazy when sex is involved.”          “Claire! That’s none of your business!”          The blond nurse snickered. “You go from having no excitement in your life to this…”           Livi groaned as she went back into her office, closing the door behind her. Her good mood was quickly fading. It had been much too easy for Chris to find her, and when he did he accused her of some crazy things. She hoped this day would be over quickly so that she could go home, and lock herself in her flat with that carton of ice cream she saw in her freezer.

*****

         Fortunately, that’s just the way the rest of the day went. Livi tried to block the events of the day from her mind as she shut herself inside of her flat. This was the first time in a long time that she went home after work and didn’t think about work. Most of the time she’d think about working A&E or finishing her charts for the day, but not today… She was ready for this day to be over with. She spent the night painting her nails a deep, blood red, watching television and dozing on her couch, as she hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before. Her thoughts drifted to Tom. She hoped he was having fun at his party, and she wondered if Chris had come clean to him about coming to her workplace today. She bet he hadn’t.           She sighed as she turned off the t.v. It was getting late, and she knew that two nights of little sleep would be a bad thing. She changed into her favorite thing to sleep in -- a burgundy, silk, cropped top and matching short shorts. The set felt like butter on her skin, and she didn’t care that it was winter in London, she wore it anyway.

          She turned off all the lights except for the bathroom light, which she left on every night (she was much too big of a chicken to sleep in pitch darkness) and slid into her comfy bed. Twenty-four hours ago things were very different in this bedroom, as it was now quiet. She drifted off to sleep easily in the middle of her big bed, and she could have sworn that she still smelled Tom on her sheets.

        *****

           BANG! BANG! BANG!            Livi shot straight up in her bed, as the sound of someone banging on her front door had woken her with a start. With her eyes half closed, she reached into her bedside table’s drawer, and fiddled around until she retrieved her small, Smith and Wesson .357 Magnum revolver pistol. Her hands shook as she made sure that there were bullets in it.           She crept toward the entrance, but jumped every time the person pounded on the door. ‘This person was very insistent,’ Livi thought as she steadied herself. Although she really, really didn’t want to, he was prepared to shoot if she needed to.          She tip-toed as quietly as she could, and finally made it to the peep-hole. Slowly, she moved her head over until her eye lined up with the hole. ‘What the fuck?’ she whispered, as she saw who was on the other side.

               “Tom?” She questioned, as she opened the door for her guest. “What the hell are you doing beating down my door in the middle of the night?”              “I jhust wanted to shee you, darling…” He slurred his words as he leaned against the door frame, and his eyes began to wander her silk clad body. “You look sho beautiful…”

            “How much have you had to drink, Tom?” She asked him, wanting to giggle out loud. He would feel terrible later, but right now he was too damn cute in his nice suit, swaying back and forth to keep him balance.              “Mm… just… just a little. May I come in?”             She nodded as she stepped out of the way, allowing him to enter the flat. His eyes went straight to the revolver she was carrying.            “Whoa… darling. What do you think you’re going to do with that?”            “Protect myself. I thought you were… were… somebody bad. I’m going to go put it up. Stay right there.”            He leaned against the wall in the entryway, and immediately regretted the amount of alcohol he had consumed that night. His head was spinning, and he felt like his stomach could lurch from his mouth at any moment. He watched Olivia walk back toward him, and he narrowed his eyes to see if he could focus on her swinging hips in that burgundy lingerie, but it seemed like he was seeing double.            She moved up beside him and grabbed his arm. “Come on, Captain Morgan, can you make it to the couch?”             “I believe I can…”             She laughed under her breath as she helped him make his way to the couch. He was a lot heavier than he looked! He plopped down onto the fluffy couch and laid his head back against the cushion. “Let’s get you out of that jacket and tie, shall we? You’ll feel better.” He nodded as he sat up and let her help him remove his jacket. “There. Now, lay down.”              He smiled as he reclined onto the pillows. For the first time tonight he was starting to feel better. He sighed as she laid a cold, wet, washcloth against his hot forehead. “That feels lovely, darling.”              “Mmm-hmm… I figured it would.” She said as her fingers went to work on his tie. She pulled it one way, and then the other to loosen it before undoing the complicated knot it was in, and pulling it from his neck. She laid it on top of his jacket and rested them on the armrest on the other end of the couch. She sat back on the floor beside him and moved the cold cloth around, letting it rest on one cheek before moving it to the other, and finally down his neck. She unbuttoned the first few buttons of his dress shirt, and let the cool cloth dip beneath the confines of the cotton. She ran it over one strong shoulder, before running it over the other, and down his chest.              “You’re so perfect, Olivia…”              She scoffed. “Oh, far from it.” She winked at him as he looked up at her.              She rubbed his skin with the cloth for a few more moments, and she could have sworn that Tom was asleep. So much so, that she jumped when he spoke again.              “Oh, I got an award… they taped my shcpeech tonight… Elle’s Man of the Year…”              “Wow, Tom! That’s wonderful! I can see how they’d name you Man of the Year. You’re pretty amazing…”               “You think I’m amazing?” He looked at her with wide blue eyes.                “I do. I just hope you recorded that acceptance speech before you got wasted.”                “Yes… well, I think I did. We shall see. Oh, and Olivia? You’re amazing too.”               She grinned at him and left the cloth resting against his neck, and moved to his feet. She removed one of his shoes and socks, before removing the other, and as she placed them on the floor she heard him snoring softly. She pulled her crochet blanket up over him, tucking it underneath his chin and walked back into her bedroom. For some reason, she felt so much more comfortable with Tom here, even if he was inebriated. She liked the feeling of knowing he was just right there… in the other room. She went to sleep peacefully, feeling the other presence in her flat. It had been far too long since she had felt that…

[pumpkins-s]

Imagine an au where alchemy is there on Voltron Earth and Lance did the Thing™ when he was young (maybe to bring Loraine back?? :3c). He got an automail, gave up on alchemy (tried to) and pursued being a space pilot and than next is what happened in the show.... Imagine him feeling like 7th wheel but also feeling reluctant to use alchemy cause it killed Loraine again but also geeking over new material and it's science cause he still an alchemist by heart

Lance tells people he lost his arm in an accident. 

Climbing accident. Childhood accident. 

(It’s only partial truth. But Lance rejected the concept of truth as a kindness or something to value a long time ago. Truth is not his friend– Truth is honest, and honesty is rarely a kind or merciful thing.)

It’s fine, really, he tells them. He barely remembers it, between the pain and his age and the meds afterward. And he got a cool automail arm out of it that’s twice as strong and sturdy. Not as neat as Shiro’s but… not bad. 

(”I killed my sister.” The truth claws at his throat on sleepless nights, compelling him to discard his dollface and reveal the monster, the sinner, beneath. “And then I killed her again.”)

Lance comes from a family of alchemists– Not by profession or trade, but by natural ability and luck. His mother can fix holes in the roof with a piece of chalk and ten minutes grace. His grandfather can coax stones into little statues at the drop of a hat, for the amusement of the children of the house. His cousin can make sparks fly like fireworks every time she snaps her fingers together, thanks to the little stick-and-poke array tattoo on her palm she got in tenth grade, much to her parents’ woe. 

Oh no, not him, he responds when they ask. Never him. Alchemy seemed boring as a child. He was much more interested in soccer and t.v. and mud.

(Loraine was the best of all of them. She drew clumsy arrays onto her wrists and arms with permanent marker, and then refined, delicate ones as she got older. She could change stone and wrap metal. Freeze water with a touch and then bring it to the boil seconds later. A genius. She taught him everything he could ever want to know, decorating him with arrays when he was a toddler until their mother screamed at her to go wash him before he hurt himself accidentally transmuting something.)

People always accepted–do accept– this as truth. It’s just Lance, after all. Clumsy, bumbling Lance, who can’t keep his head on straight for more than two minutes. The idea of him applying himself to the concentrated, methodical work of alchemy training as a young child is such a laughable idea, he almost tricks himself into thinking the same. 

It’s a pretty lie, all tied up in ribbon and paper. Merciful to them, but mostly to himself. 

(He was taught what sins of alchemy are unforgivable before he could even fully understand them, lectured to him and his sister in their Grandmother’s croaking voice on cold winter nights. Not a pretty lesson to hear, to have drilled into your head over and over, but a necessary one.

…He never was very good at listening, anyways.)

Pidge is the only one on the team who can perform any alchemy. Mostly small transmutations, to fix broken equipment or repair frayed wires. Whenever she huffs and complains about wishing she’d read more books on the subject, how useful it would be out here, in the war, Hunk looks to Lance, and then bites his tongue. He may disapprove, but he’ll keep Lance’s secret until the day he dies, and for that much Lance is thankful.

(It took him two years after she died to figure out how, to stash the materials in the back shed under a tarp and learn to draw the circle. The risk inherent was assumed, and he was willing. Lance was thirteen and reckless and world-weary. His mother needed her baby back, his sisters their littlest member, his cousin her best friend. And he needed Loraine’s smile, one last time. If it killed him, it was a gladly given price.)

Sometimes it’s more than tempting, when they get divvied up into groups for missions and no one knows quite what to do with Lance. Good sniper, fast talker. Slow on the upkeep, mediocre pilot, too noisy, too silly. Fucking terrible at close combat.

These are truths, he doesn’t deny them.

But occasionally he can’t help himself, and forces old Galran ship construction texts through the translator, memorizes the elements both familiar and foreign, and does what he was born to do. Equivalent exchange and transmutation circles, and all the possibilities, stored away in the mental vault of things he’ll never let loose.

They’ll call for him when he falls behind on missions, and he’ll tear his eyes away from ship walls and chase after. He knows he can tear the place apart from the inside out with only a few presses of his hands, but he won’t. He can never go back, and this is the closest thing he has to atonement for his crimes.

(It seems almost fitting, that Truth would take his left arm. 

He’s no idiot, he knows it’s the hand that let go first, that let them fall and caused her death to begin with. The fact that it’s the price he paid to bring her back–to kill her all over again–is justified irony. 

Lance was prepared to give both body and soul for her. Instead, he lost what ruined him to begin with, in exchange for a long-haired, dead eyed creature of sour breath and creaking limbs, with none of his sister’s warmth or life.

They didn’t even bury it. Lance had stood in his oversized shirt, empty sleeve flapping in the wind, as Mavis burned the monster he had made of the person they both loved the most. Her lips were tight and she wouldn’t look at him, and he knew truth in shame.)

“What are you?” They ask him now and again, on those far away, newly liberated alien planets, and he shrugs.

Something the Truth swallowed whole, chewed up, and spat out again, half-dead and very much broken. Even that didn’t want to keep me.

“Just a leftover.” He says, and that is not quite a lie, either.

(No Truth is not a kind master. It rules from high above, and breaks the backs of anyone who dares to claim it as their own. 

Lance has seen Truth, and he knows what it is– The Truth is, he should have died when he was eleven, and he let his sister die in his place.)

The real lie is saying he survived. There was never anything left, after that.

[actual-cryptid-leshy]

The one where they skate

uuUUUUHHH HEY @charamandern00dles ur a good egg

The world is quiet. It’s the kind of quiet only achievable when the ground is covered in snow, and the sky is covered in clouds. White fluffy clouds. Like the world has been carefully wrapped in cotton, when all the hustle and bustle of the city has been laid claim to, gently shushed until every last person is quietly shuffling along with their daily lives. Content to bundle themselves away fromt he cold as best as they can. And the snow keeps falling. Large clumps of snowflakes drifting gently to the ground like white feathers. This is the world Jeremy wakes up to. Soft and silent. Cold, but from the comfort of his bed the world seems nothing less than endlessly forgiving, endlessly welcoming. The light shining trough his window, stretching out across his bed, is a dull comforting gray. He turns over, closes his eyes against the gentle light, content with letting such a quiet morning remain quiet until it wasn't technically morning anymore. Just let himself drift in this space, untethered, floating along the streams of consciousness as it trickles by. His phone buzzes once. He turns away from it. It buzzes again. He ignores it. As it buzzes a third time he gives up, groaning into his pillow as he reaches for it almost blindly he almost knocks it off of the bedside table before finally managing to grab it properly and bring it to his face.

From: Player 1

SNOW

Jeremy smiles. He sees the shadows of the snowflakes falling outside his window, and the previous drowsiness melts away into giddy excitement as the texts keep coming. A warm ball of joy nestles in his chest with each incoming text. The enthusiasm is infectious.

From: Player 1

SNOWSNOWSNOWSNOWSNOW

From: Player 1

it’s a miracle the gods heard my prayer there’s a white paradise waiting for us jere n it’s oUT THERE

From: Player 1

it’s time to get Fucked Up

From: Player 1

and by that i mean Cold as Fuck

From: Player 1

jere

From: Player 1

JERE

From: Player 1 JEREMY JOLENE HEERE U BETTER B AWAKE

From: Player 1

DONT MAKE ME COME OVER THERE

To: Player 1

you’ll come over here anyway tho

From: Player 1

I can’t read suddenly

To: Player 1

i’m awake, un-twist ur boxers

From: Player 1

un-twist your attitude

To: Player 1

what attitude??

From: Player 1

u kno what i mean

To: Player 1

:3c

From: Player 1

no

To: Player 1

>:3c

From: Player 1

i want a divorce

To: Player 1

i’ll b ready in 1 hr

From: Player 1

see ya! <3

To: Player 1

<3

Jeremy smiles to himself, puts his phone down and breathes in deep. There’s a slight chill in the air, it fills his lungs. When he breathes out he feels the last threads of sleep unwind. Shaking off the last bits of drowsiness he stretches out as far as he can, reaching his hands up and flexing his toes. He curves his spine back and lets out a satisfied hum as he collapses back onto the mattress. Then he throws off the covers and makes a run for the bathroom. As predicted the air is even colder without the warmth of the duvet, and his feet protest as they patter along the cold hallway floor. Luckily, the tiles in the bathroom are warm. He feels his shoulders sag as he closes the door behind him, though he shivers a little still. He goes straight for the toothbrush, humming to himself. He pauses as he realizes which on he’s humming.

‘’Jolene.’’ he sings out loud, softly, starring himself in the mirror. His face breaks into a grimace.

‘’Dammit Michael.’’ he curses, but even though Michael isn’t there Jeremy can’t help the small smile that breaks trough. He keeps humming as he brushes his teeth, occasionally letting a few sung words out not the air. When he’s finished he sheds his pajamas and heads for the alluring promise of warm water that the shower offers. He turns the water on and cranks it to Very Warm. He lets out a small shriek as it proves to be Too Warm, and then quickly adjusts it back down. With he water back to a survivable temperature he keeps login with his one man performance of the most emotional and dramatic rendition of Jolene the world will never see. He turns the water off and grabs a towel from the hook on the wall, wrapping it around himself securely. There’s a knock at the door.

‘’Morning son! Seen the snow?’’ his dad asks trough the door, an obvious chipper note to his words. It brings a smile to Jeremys own face, one tat’s audible as he answers,

‘’Yeah, Michael’s picking me up in like thirty minutes.’’ he hears his dad hum a gentle laugh.

‘’That means you’ve got time for breakfast.’’ he says, and Jeremy can hear the steady sound of his footsteps as he turns to walk away.

‘’Thanks dad.’’ he calls back. He lifts the towel to his head and dries his hair. When he pulls it off he faces the mirror and smiles at his own terrible hairdo. He wraps the towel securely around himself before braving the cold hallway once more, chiding himself for forgetting his clothes in his room. He walks with quick steps back t his room, grabs the first and best outfit he can get his hands on, and hurries back to the warm confines of the bathroom. He drops the bundle of clothes on top of the closed toilet lid, and finishes drying off. He pulls on his boxers and jeans before grabbing the hairdryer. He lets the warm air hit his face for a moment before he begins drying his hair. It doesn’t take very long to air dry his hair, but he likes the fluffiness it gets when he uses the blowdryer. He runs his hand trough the short red strands, appreciating the softness of it, before putting the blowdryer away. He grabs his binder and pulls it on, then puts on a light blue turtleneck. The previously just right temperature in the bathroom tips over into just a little too warm in his fully clothed state, so he opens the door. The cool air of the hallway feels refreshing, though the tip of his nose turns freezing. He rolls the slightly too long sleeves up to his elbows and fixes the collar in the mirror. He gives his hair one last once over, trying to ignore the acne he sees in the mirror let he starts picking on it, and when he deems the fluffy red mess presentable he leaves the bathroom. He swings by his bedroom again to pick up some socks and his phone. Digging trough the drawer of socks he finds the blue pair with weed motifs that Michael gave him. The socks are thick and soft, so he pulls them on. He wiggles his toes just a little as the slight chill from the hallway floor leaves them once again. He checks the time. Ten minutes until Michael gets here. He heads for the kitchen. His dad is sitting at the table, still in his pajamas, reading the newspaper. A cup of coffee on the table in front of him, two plates of toast, and a cup of tea. Jeremy sits down and takes a long sip of the tea. It’s just the right side of too warm.

‘’What’s the plan today?’’ his dad asks him over the top of the newspaper.

‘’Ice skating. Traditions, y’know.’’ Jeremy says, taking a bite of the toast. There’s a decent layer of strawberry jam on it. Something occurs to Jeremy, he swallows the bite of toast.

‘’Do you remember where I put my skates?’’ he asks, his dad furrows his brows.

‘’Didn’t you let Sam next door borrow them? I think they’re out of town this week.’’ he says.

‘’Shit, yeah.’’ Jeremy says. His dad shoots him a look.

‘’Sorry.’’ he says, and his dads eyes soften a little around the edges.

‘’We’ve still got your old skates?’’ he offers, like a compromise.

‘’The dancer ones?’’ Jeremy asks.

‘’Yeah, if that’s…?’’ his dad trails off, a note of worry in his voice. Jeremy smiles.

‘’Yeah that’s fine dad.’’ he assures. He takes another sip of his tea. The radio is playing some sort of chill tune, it’s on low volume and fills the air with the notes of something as calm as the morning air. Jeremys phone buzzes.

From: Player 1

omw

He pockets his phone and heads to the hallway closet to dig out his skates. He pulls the stepping stool from the corner over in front of the open closet, steps up on it to reach the small shelf at the top. He grabs the edge of the shelf and stands on the tips of his toes to peek over the edge. He moves a box labelled ‘STUFF’ and pulls out an innocent looking red shoebox. He securely tucks it under his arm before hopping off the stepping stool. Jeremy sets the box down on top of it and flips the lid. The skates are stark white, the sole and heel of it black. The blade glints from beneath the bright blue guard. They look pristine aside from a few small scares here and there. Of course they do, he hadn’t worn them too often. They were too big when he got them, with the promise of ‘growing into them’. But then he’d begged for hockey skates instead. He has missed them, a little. They feel different to hockey skates. He picks one skate up, pulls the guard off the blade and inspects it. No rust, luckily. It looks pretty sharp still. He gently traces the toe picks, the jagged edges like a row of shark teeth. He puts the guard back on, ties the laces together so he can sling them over his shoulder once Michael arrives.

‘’Getting ready to go?’’ his dada asks from the doorway to the kitchen.

‘’Yup.’’ Jeremy says, wrapping a grey scarf around his neck, making sure it can cover his mouth and nose. He grabs for his winter coat next.

‘’I made some hot chocolate for you guys, I’ll put it in your bag.’’ his dad says, turning around and heading back into the kitchen with a small fond smile Jeremy barely catches.

‘’Thanks dad.’’ he says, pulling on his boots. He checks the coat pockets for his gloves, but can’t find them.

‘’Shit.’’ he mutters, turning back to the closet and rifling trough the small plastic bin of various hats and scarves. Nothing. He checks the pockets of his other jacket, thinking maybe he left them there. Nope. He mutters irritably to himself as he tries to remember where he had them last. His phone buzzes.

From: Player 1

got ur gloves btw

thanks

‘’Riiiiiiiight.’’ he says to himself, drawing the sound out.

‘’What?’’ his dad asks, stepping back out into the hallway with Jeremys bag in one hand.

‘’I lent Michael my gloves yesterday.’’ he explains, typing out a quick ‘thanks!’ in reply and sending it.

‘’He’s brining them then, I assume.’’ his dad asks, and Jeremy looks up at him in confusion.

‘’Well, yeah?’’ he says, asks really, because it should be obvious.

‘’Good, can’t send you out into hostile territory without the proper equipment.’’ his dad replies, smiling goofily and holding his bag out to him. Jeremy groans a little as he grabs it, feels the extra weight of a thermos. His annoyed expression goes into something half annoyed half thankful. A car horn blares out in the street, the familiar shriek of a good old trustworthy (most of the time) PT cruiser.

‘’Bye dad.’’ Jeremy says as he settles the skates over one shoulder and turns to the door.

‘’Have fun.’’ his dad says, barely managing to get it out before Jeremy is closing the door after himself. He listens to the crunching of the snow underneath his boots as he approaches the car, buries his face as deep into his scarf as it will go. His nose is still ice cold as he opens the passenger side door.

‘’Hey.’’ Michael says, the warmth of the car wafts out and hits Jeremy in the face. He hurries to get in and close the door, throwing his bag and his skates in the backseat.

‘’Hey.’’ he says back as he settles against the seat.

‘’Get ready to break your ass.’’ Michael says as he pulls the car back out onto the road, setting the course for the ice rink. It’s only a twenty minute drive away.

‘’I feel like you forget I’m the one with the most skating experience every time we do this.’’ Jeremy says, a slight smile on his lips even as his exasperation bleeds trough.

‘’No yeah, I meant get ready to break your ass as you try to prevent me from breaking mine.’’ Michael amends, grinning like he’s the winner in this scenario. Which, in all fairness, he might be. Because Jeremy will definitely try to catch him if he falls. And he will definitely end up falling himself. Jeremy sighs in defeat.

‘’Point.’’ he concedes. Michael just keeps grinning. The drive is over before they know it, time passed with idle chatter and joking. Michael finds a parking space and they step back out into the cold air. It nips at his cheeks and the tips of his ears, and suddenly he wishes he’d brought a beanie or something. Oh well.

‘’Here.’’ Michael says, throwing the bundled up gloves at him. Jeremy fumbles but manages to catch them. He tugs them on before following Michael to the rink. There are a few people there already, not many. Mostly kids. They find a bench close to the edge and sit down to get their skates on. Michael smiles gently as he notices the socks Jeremy is wearing.

‘’Did you get new skates?’’ Michael asks him as Jeremy ties up the laces nice and tight.

‘’Nah, they’re…old. They’re dancing skates. They’ve got these spikes on the front for sharp stops and turns. Y’know like, figure skating.’’ Jeremy explains, pulling the guard off of the skate he’s just tied to his foot before starting on the other one.

‘’Oh, cool. Do you know any tricks?’’ Michael asks, eyes on his own skates as he shoves his feet in, focuses on lacing them up.

‘’Not really.’’ Jeremy admits. He does know how to spin…kinda. But nothing advanced.

‘’That’s not a no.’’ Michael goads, leaning forwards to look Jeremy in the face.

‘’We’ll see.’' Jeremy says, cryptically, as he pulls the guard off of the other skate. He shoves them in his bag and gets up. Michael follows suit, and together they make their shaky way to the rink. As Jeremy steps onto the ice he realizes how much he’d missed it since last year. He digs the toe picks into the ice and kicks off, gliding effortlessly across the smooth surface of the ice. He turns sideways to stop and look back. Michael had made it onto the ice and is, at least, standing upright. An improvement from the first time they’d done this. Jeremy kicks off again, gliding towards Michael at a relaxed speed. He makes a turn behind Michael, coming to a stop next to him.

‘’Show off.’’ Michael mutters underneath his breath, but there’s a giddy smile on his face. Jeremy offers him his hand. Michael takes it without hesitation. Together they gently skate along the the rink, keeping to the edge and going at a leisurely pace. Jeremy can feel the muscles in his legs working to keep him upright, and the slight burn feels amazing. The skates are stiff, but he relishes in the feeling. He didn’t think he could have missed them they way he apparently did, but it feels nice getting to wear them again. Each time he kicks off with the toe picks he remembers being younger, accidentally planting them straight into the ice and face planting. Before he’d gotten used tot hem. Michael wobbles and Jeremys hold on his hand tightens to keep him upright.

‘’Thanks.’’ Michael breathes out as he finds his footing again. He turns to Jeremy with a bright smile, more blinding than the sparkling white snow around them.

‘’No worries, I got you.’’ he promises, feels the words echo from somewhere deep inside his heart.

‘’I know.’’ Michael says, as simple as that. Jeremy feels a surge of bravery. He lets go of Michaels hand. Michael turns his head with an inquisitive look, but Jeremy only smiles. He looks ahead to make sure the way is clear and takes off. He builds up speed with three, four strides, and then he makes a sharp turn. He lets the momentum carry him into the spinning motion, raising onto the tip of his right skate. It’s fast, and he only makes it a couple of times around before he wobbles. He puts his other foot down to steady himself, throwing his arms out a little to help. He looks up to lock eyes with Michael again. Michael face is black for about a nano second before he’s grinning, drifting over to where Jeremy has stopped.

‘’That was amazing!’’ he exclaims, throwing his hands up and almost overbalancing in the process. Jeremy laughs as he reaches out, steadying Michael again.

‘’That wasn’t even good.’’ he argues, but he’s wearing a smile matching Michaels, not being able to help himself. Michaels face turns serious.

‘’Teach me.’’ he says, face dead serious and eyes determined. Jeremy feels his heart stutter to a halt in pure terror.

‘’What? No! You don’t even have the right kind of skates!’’ he argues, but Michaels face doesn’t even change. He just stares at Jeremy, mind made up. Jeremy holds his breath.

‘’Swap with me.’’

‘’No!’’