#I am also wearing headphones which means I can’t hear the light buzzing so that helps

[sodacowboy]

baking my mom’s birthday cake while she’s at work and I’m gonna be pissed if she comes home for whatever reason and ruins the surprise

[the-quiet-winds]

Bonfire Clouds

[angst. inspired by true events]

As a general rule of thumb, Anna was very used to being alone.

During her time spent in Germany and England, after being divorced and sent away with her pockets lined and some fancy new palaces to live in, it was easy for her to get so lost in the crowds she was hopelessly lonely. Schmoozing with other royals, smoking pipes with courtiers, and dancing until the light drowned and came back up for air again.

She may have been always around people, but she was always so alone.

Which is why, when she was brought back to life again, she always kept her problems to herself.

It’s a nasty habit, one she tries to shake time and time again, but when everyone else has suffered far worse than she, it’s all but impossible to not bottle up her life and stuff it on a shelf.

So when Anna begins waking up with dull pains in her back and her knees around the turn of winter, she doesn’t say a word about it. She pops a few Ibuprofen and moves on with her day.

It’s usually enough. Combine it sometimes with a little ice or a little heat, and she’s right as rain by the time the show starts.

But as December comes crawling in, it starts to not be enough.

No one notices until they’re backstage at the show. She plops into her makeup chair and lets out a quiet grunt, which attracts the attention of one of her roommates.

“What’s got you down?” Aragon asks, giving her a half-critical look through the mirror’s reflection.

“Funky cramps,” Anna says. She shifts in her chair, attempting to give herself some much-needed relief from the pain, but none comes.

“Did you take anything?”

It’s not Aragon this time, but Jane, her voice soft and caring as she passes into the room.

“Earlier,” Anna counters. “I took some painkillers, but nothing worked.”

Jane creases her eyebrows. But before she can suggest anything, Anna speaks hastily. “I’m sure it just means my period is coming. Nothing bad.”

She knows it’s a lie, but she doesn’t want to concern Jane more.

“If you don’t feel better, promise you’ll come and talk to us?”

Anna agrees.

She knows she’s lying.

The next morning the pain returns, and it’s more obvious now. Enough so that Jane notices the moment Anna walks into the kitchen the next morning.

“Come on,” she says without hesitation, “back upstairs with you You’re not performing tonight.”

“But-“

“No buts,” Jane says, voice softer this time. “You need to rest. Maybe we’ll get you a massage.”

Anna agrees half-heartedly, sleep and anxiety mixing in the space behind her eyes to create a horrid sort of drunken tiredness.

She is out before she even hits the pillow.

---

The knee pain went away, and the back pain began to lessen over the following two weeks, and Anna felt greatly relieved.

The week leading up to Christmas sees her at the doctor’s office for a routine check-up and flu vaccination.

“You seem healthy, Miss Cleves,” the doctor says, “is there anything you wish to discuss with me?”

The absence of her bandmates seems to bolster Anna’s confidence. Talking to the doctor was nothing, right? Just alone again.

“I’ve been having some back pain,” she says.

Those six words were what landed Anna in an MRI machine two days later. She had told the other queens she was just “going out.” She couldn’t let them worry.

Turns out there was nothing to worry about at all. Her back was knot-free and disc-free.

“My best guess is a repetitive motion injury, or maybe some sort of unhealed strain,” the doctor says. “Take some time off, maybe a few days or so.”

“But I have a show,” Anna protests. “I can’t take time off.”

“I’m sorry,” the doctor says. “But you need to heal.”

Anna leaves with a doctor’s note, mandating her to not perform for four days, effective immediately.

Of course, Katherine is incredibly concerned.

“Why didn’t you tell us?!” She demands, teary-eyed and clearly upset. “You should have told us!”

“I know,” Anna concedes softly, “but I didn’t want you all to worry.”

“Anna.”

She looks to Jane, who takes a step closer and rests a hand on her shoulder. “We’re family. We want to care for you, so please, let us.”

The next four days are incredibly repetitive. Anna wakes up to find Jane and Aragon waiting by her bed with breakfast and coffee. Sometime mid-morning, Anne comes in to watch game shows on the small television on Anna’s dresser.

“Stupid!” Anne exclaims with a laugh, watching a contestant guess an answer horribly wrong.

“Like you could do better,” Anna jests, batting Anne about the ribs with her elbow.

“I’d be so good at these shows,” Anne says proudly. She puffs her chest out and makes a posh face. Anna can’t help but laugh.

“If you say so.”

Katherine always brings her lunch, and Parr supplies her with a fresh book or two each afternoon before they all leave for the show.

It’s a lovely routine, and Anna genuinely believes the bed-rest is helping.

When Christmas comes, the pain has lessened in her back, which was the greatest relief in the world to Anna. She can walk, dance, and perform in a way she hadn’t in months.

They’re mid-show, fresh off the holiday break, when Anna breaks.

She’s just finished her number and is dancing her way through Katherine’s when she feels a sharp sting and a biting aggravation in her left hip. It throws her off balance and down to her knees, but she manages to play it off as merely a misstep in the choreography.

The remaining twenty or so minutes of the show are blinding, unbearable Hell. Anna feels she can barely stand, but doesn’t let it make her falter, although she knows she grimaces with every step.

She barely makes it off-stage before she collapses to her knees, holding her side tightly.

“It’s okay,” Jane murmurs. Her arm securely wraps around Anna’s waist. “We’ve got you.”

None of them go to the stage door that night, obviously. As soon as they’re dressed, they’re in the car and headed back to the hospital, where Jane and Aragon support a barely-walking Anna through the door before she’s whisked away.

They examine her hip, even taking x-rays, and determine she managed to pop it out of socket.

The scream of pain as they reset it is so loud, the girls can hear it from the waiting room. A doctor writes Anna another note, saying she was out for performing for a week, and if the pain continues, she’s to return for additional tests.

The pain continues, and she returns for additional tests.

“Miss Cleves,” the nurse pages, and she limps into the office. Alone. Of course, being the lone wolf she is, she didn’t have the heart to tell the others the real reason she was back here. She just said the doctor wanted to check on her progress.

“Welcome,” the doctor, a different doctor, says. “I am Doctor Thalia Browne.”

“Anna of Cleves.”

“Ah, the famous Anna of Cleves,” Doctor Browne muses with a soft chuckle. “It’s not often I see patients older than this hospital.”

Anna laughs herself, half-pained. “So I guess you know.”

“How couldn’t I?” There’s a quiet, albeit excited nature to Browne’s words. “This whole regeneration business you all have going on, it’s quite amazing. I also saw your show, October I think? Absolutely wonderful.”

Anna warms up to her new doctor very quickly, and she finds herself in conversation with her as she gets comfortable in the MRI machine (well, as comfortable as she could get).

“I’ve been to Germany on many conferences,” Browne says as the images start bleeding through. “It’s quite lovely.”

“The winters were brutal,” Anna laughs softly as Browne’s voice buzzes its way through the static-filled headphones she wears. “But gorgeous all the same.”

“Luckily I’ve only ever been there in the spring. They know not-“

As soon as she stops, Anna knows she’s in trouble.

“Doc?”

More silence.

“Doc, you’re scaring me,” Anna says, a very nervous laugh in her words.

“Can you lay on your back for me?” The joviality in her voice is gone, replaced by stoic professionalism.

Anna does as told, ignoring the biting pain in her hip as she does so.

The machine roars around her, Browne’s voice no longer able to drown it out, and Anna feels hopelessly alone.

It feels like an eternity before the machine slowly bucks her out. It’s even longer before Browne enters the test room, holding a few of the images in her hands.

The fact that it couldn’t wait sets every nerve in Anna’s body alight.

“Your hip is fractured.”

Okay. That’s not bad. That can be fixed.

But one look at Browne’s face and Anna knows that’s not all.

“What is it?”

---

 January 19th, Anna writes on a scrap piece of paper, still trying to figure out how to tell the others what’s wrong.

She crumbles up the paper, rips it into pieces, and throws it in the trash.

Time to rip the bandage off.

Five minutes later, the queens are gathered in the living room, staring expectantly at Anna.

“I have cancer.”

The air is sucked from the room, leaving behind five lost souls staring back at her. 

“What?!” 

It was Anne who’d finally spoken, an angered outburst coming out as barely a choked whisper.

“I have cancer,” she repeats. “Lung cancer.”

“But you don’t smoke,” Parr says, obviously and somewhat dumbly.

“I did,” Anna admits, “in the first life.”

“How do you know?” Katherine asks, voice tiny and childlike as she clings to Jane.

“They were examining my hip and the image… it just barely clipped my lung. They saw it.” She swallows. “They did more imaging of my back.” She looks to the floor. “Doctor Browne said if she didn’t know, she’d think the images were of completely different people.”

“You had those images done three weeks ago,” Aragon says bluntly.

“That’s how fast it’s progressed. I have more tumors than they know what to do with.”

“How long?”

Jane has finally spoken.

“Six months without chemo, maybe a year with,” Anna barely whispers now. “I’m not surviving this.”

She can’t bring herself to reach for Katherine when she detaches from Jane’s side and runs upstairs.

Parr stands up and slowly paces the room. “It’s in your bones, isn’t it,” she states. “It fractured your hip.”

Anna nods.

“Are you going to do chemo?” Aragon asks.

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Why not?!” Anne’s anger is back, tears in her eyes again. “You have a chance for a whole year.”

“At what cost,” Anna says hollowly. “It won’t be pleasant. It’ll be missed shows and sickness and pain.” She shrugs. “Maybe I’d like to enjoy my time left.”

“That’s pretty fucking selfish,” Anne warns.

“Maybe it is. But it’s my choice.”

“What you do affects all of us. You can’t just drop this bomb and expect us not to react.”

“Never said I did.” Anna’s words are empty as she stares at the floor. “I just want to enjoy what’s left of my life.”

She opts to not do chemotherapy, but does have the surgery to repair her hip.

That’s two and a half weeks later.

It goes well. 

They put her hip back together and promise her she’ll be walking very soon. 

She spends three days in the hospital before being brought to a rehab center. 

That Saturday is the first time the queens have seen Anna since her surgery. They wanted to be there with her in the recovery room, during everything after, but Anna was far too loopy for anyone to be there. So they were forced to wait.

They sit in the library of the rehab center and wait some more. Jane and Katherine sit on the couch, Kat clinging to Jane’s arm, Aragon and Boleyn are hunched over in armchairs, elbows on bouncing knees, and Parr is alternating between pacing and leaning against the chess table.

Finally, a nurse rolls in Anna.

But it’s not Anna.

It’s a hollow, broken shell of the fierce German queen. There’s an emptiness in her eyes that gapes into her mind. 

Must be the pain medication.

“Hey, Anna,” Parr says softly. 

Nothing.

“How are you feeling, love?” Jane asks.

Nothing.

“Can she hear us?” Katherine suddenly panics.

“She’s still very out of it,” the nurse says softly. “High doses of meds.”

They try to coax words out of Anna, but all they get are somewhat pleading looks, as if there were words trapped in her head that her teeth wouldn’t free.

Throughout the entire meeting, which lasted roughly an hour, all they got were some noncommittal hums, an occasional ‘yes’ or ‘no’, and Anna managing to ask Jane what was on her shirt.

It was a pun.

When they get home from the last show of the week the following night, their phone are overflowing with messages from the hospital.

Anna had suffered a stroke and was bleeding into her brain.

The next five days are some of the worst in all of their lives, either lives. It’s a constant wonder of, ‘is Anna still alive?’ and ‘what if she dies without anyone there with her?’ But between shows and rehearsals, they don’t have a choice.

They fought, they truly did. They wanted to cancel shows for the week, all but live at the hospital as they wait for Anna to stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time.

But there were bills to be paid, specifically hospital bills and rent bills, and they had to keep performing.

Finally, Friday rolls around. And finally, they’re given a show off. So they all go to see Anna.

Well, not everyone.

Jane Seymour can’t do it.

It’s too real. If she goes, it’s real. Anna is really dying. Anna is really going to die from cancer.

She doesn’t go.

She takes a long, hot shower instead, furiously scrubbing through her hair as if to wipe the events of the last month from her head. 

By the time she steps out of the shower, cries into her towel, brushes out her hair, cries a bit more, and manages to get dressed with shaky hands, it’s well past midnight.

And there is a text waiting for her, from Parr.

Time of death 2:12am, February 17th. Probably spread to the brain. See you later.

When Jane Seymour manages to fall asleep, her face is stained with tears, as is the pillow, and her dreams are more like nightmares as she sees Anna.

And Anna is once again alone.

———————————————————————————————————–

tag list: @percabeth15 @kats-seymour @qualquercoisa945 @jane-fucking-seymour @a-slightly-cracked-egg @justqueentingz @annabanana2401 @wolfies-chew-toy @broad-way-13​ @tvandmusicals @lailaliquorice @aimieallenatkinson @sweet-child-why03 @gaylinda-of-the-upper-uplands @funky-lesbians@thinkaboutitmaybe @hansholbeingoesaroundzeworld @anaamess @beeskneeshuh @prick-up-ur-ears @theartoflazy​ @justqueentwo​@brother-orion @paleshadowofadragon @lafemmestars @beautifulashes17 @jarneiarichardnxel​ @idkimbadwithusernamesandstuff @sixcago @mixer1323 @boleynssixthfinger @aimieallen @elphiesdance @boleynthebunny​ @krystalhuntress @lupin-loves-chocolate @bellacardoza16 @bluify @second–butthole @katherines-choker

[let-it-raines]

Catch Me If You Can (5/?)

298 days. That’s how long Killian Jones was away from a baseball field. It’s less than a year, only part of a season for him, but it might as well have lasted a decade as he alternated between physical therapy and spending an excessive amount of time sitting on his couch.

But then he came back and won the World Series.

It’s something no one saw coming, and it’s certainly not something anyone who knows about his arm would predict. Now it’s a new season with new possibilities, and anything could happen. On-field reporter Emma Swan will be there to cover it all even if she is not his biggest fan right now.

Asking her out live on-air will do that.

Rating: Mature

A/N: It’s been a day, my friends, and when it’s been a day I like to give you guys chapters earlier than I expected. But also because I’m sitting on chapters and want to get to the good stuff! Our favorite duo really start to interact from now on, so the slow burn you guys are feeling is speeding up!!!

As always, thanks to @resident-of-storybrooke❤️

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 

Tag list: @royalswan @shey-starsfury @sals86 @iam2307 @ashley-knightingale @snowbellewells @karenfrommisthaven @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @emmas-storybook @ultimiflos @jamif @idristardis @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @wellhellotragic @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @ultraluckycatnd @cs-forlife @andiirivera@jonirobinson64 @mariakov81 @galaxyzxstark @qualitycoffeethings @thejollyroger-writer

-/-

“How hot is it in Texas right now?”

“Hotter than here, but not all that bad. Seventies, I think.”

“Well, that’s probably because that weird heat wave is over, and it’s back to being fifty degrees outside.”

“True,” Ruby sighs, pulling a dress out of Emma’s closet. “You should wear this dress. It makes your ass look fantastic.”

“No one sees my ass.” She walks over to Ruby and grabs the red dress anyways, folding it up since she knows that it won’t wrinkle. She pulls up the weather app on her phone, scrolling through the thirty cities she has saved, and finds the week’s forecast for Houston, seeing that the high is indeed mostly going to be mid-seventies. That’s good. That’s far better than it is when they have to travel during the summer. “Should I bring heels or embrace flats for the week?”

“Bring your nude pair.” Ruby chunks them at the bed, about two feet away from taking Emma’s eye out. “Oh, and the turquoise if you’re going to wear that green pencil skirt.”

“You just want to borrow them if we go out, don’t you?”

Ruby pulls her turquoise pumps out of her closet, which really needs to be organized but that’s a story for another time, and tosses them on the bed before she grabs several more shirts and pants for Emma. “You know me so well, even if we mostly go out in Texas simply to eat their food.”

“Ugh,” she groans just thinking about it. “If we’re going to do that, I need to bring looser clothing. I don’t want everyone to think I’m pregnant when it’s just a food baby.”

“I bet you everyone would think it’s Jones’s baby.”

Her eyes cut over to Ruby as she picks up her turquoise heels and places them on her striped chair. How can someone be both the worst and the best friend? “For that, I’m not bringing these heels.”

“You’re evil.”

“You shouldn’t be mean to me if you want to borrow my shoes.”

“Being mean is kind of in her wheelhouse,” Graham adds in as he pokes his head through her bedroom door, eyes glancing over the mess that’s currently happening. He’s totally judging. “Do you two realize that your flight is at six in the morning, and you’re up at two in the morning packing?”

“Do you realize that it’s two in the morning, and you have to take us to the airport at four?” Graham rolls his eyes before Ruby walks toward him and presses up on her toes to wrap her arms around his neck and slide her lips over his. “Thank you for doing that, by the way.”

He presses down to kiss her once more. “You’re going to be gone for three days. I’m going to miss you.”

“Cheesy,” Emma grumbles, tossing a rolled-up sock at the back of Ruby’s head. They’ve really got to stop throwing clothes. She’s never going to be able to find anything. “Can’t you two go make out in your room or something?”

“I kind of like that idea.”

“Me too. Ems, pack the damn turquoise shoes and some spanx so that you can eat and people won’t think you’re having Jones’s baby.”

“Wait, what?” Graham mutters. “You’re having Jones’s baby?”

“No one is having anyone’s baby, and it better stay that way. Use protection.”

“Pack the shoes.”

“I still don’t understand what’s going on.”

“You’re not supposed to, babe,” Ruby laughs, backing Graham out of the room and pulling Emma’s door shut behind her.

Those two are ridiculous, and if she didn’t love them so much, living with them would be nearly impossible. Seriously.

Emma gets an hour of sleep after she finishes packing (thanks late night games and early morning flights), and she’s basically a zombie as she and Ruby load into the back of Graham’s squad car as he drives them to JFK. She knows that it takes awhile to get there, but she’s pretty sure that she slept the whole time because before she even realizes it, she and Ruby are checking into their flight at the kiosk and going through security. It’s the emptiest she’s ever seen the place, and she would know. She spends far too much time in airports for her job.

When the team travels, she travels. Most of the time. Some trips she doesn’t work, and it’s glorious.

It used to not be that way. She’d only travel for the games that were actually shown on ESPN or sometimes Fox, but now that ESPN has an entire online streaming service, she’s traveling nine games out of ten and working all home games. It’s exhausting, to a point, but she has a hell of a lot of travel miles and rewards programs that she gets to keep even though the network pays for her flights and hotels. Sometimes that means she gets six am flights when she doesn’t have to be in Houston until seven in the evening, but it’s not always that bad.

And one day she’s going to use those points to travel to Italy or something.

Pasta would be really good right now.

So would coffee, but if she has coffee, she won’t sleep on the plane. And sleeping on the plane is kind of important if she wants to not look like a zombie tonight. Her face may look like a zombie, but at least her ass will look great.

She doesn’t want anyone to comment on the state of her ass. She’s the only one allowed to do that.

Okay, she’s lost her mind.

-/-

The Yankees win their sixth game of the season that night.

She eats the best barbecue sandwich she’s ever had, and a clip of her eating ends up on Sports Center.

Sometimes she wonders if people actually watch baseball for the game or if they simply watch because there’s always something weird going on in the crowd.

The sandwich was worth it.

-/-

Emma’s feet hit against the treadmill as Queen blares in her headphones and a tennis match in Monte Carlo plays on the television in front of her, Rafael Nadal sliding back and forth on the clay as he absolutely dominates his opponent. If every athlete was as good as Rafa is on clay, they’d all be dominant, but that’s likely a story for another day.

She’s got twenty-three minutes left on her run, especially since she’s going at a slow pace with a slight incline, but she can already feel the incline starting to kill her, her calves burning the slightest bit with each step that she takes. Her face is red, her hairline slicked back with sweat, and she can already tell that getting her sports bra off is going to be an impossible task. She gets that it’s for the support and all, but there should really be an easier way for her to free her boobs from their confines.

Free the boob.

Unless she’s running or walking down stairs or doing anything more than some light walking.

Her phone buzzes on the machine, and the man on the treadmill looks over at her like he’s annoyed by the fact that her phone made some kind of noise. It’s not her fault that he didn’t bring any headphones, and really, if he’s so bothered by her, he can move two treadmills down. This hotel gym is plenty big enough.  

Ruth: I saw you eating a sandwich on TV last night! That’s too funny!

Ruth: I hope you’re having fun!

Ruth: I miss you, sweetie!!!

For Ruth to be sixty-five, she has a fantastic grip on technology. She knows that it’s because she and David have taught her how to text and find clips of their segments and articles online, but still. She knows how to use emojis and gifs and even has an Instagram, which is only slightly terrifying most of the time. But she knows it’s simply to keep up with she and David’s lives since they don’t always tell her everything.

Okay, that’s mostly her.

But David has a much better relationship with Ruth, which makes sense considering she’s his mother. She’s Emma’s…quasi mother. She’s never been too sure how to go about it. Calling David her brother is much easier than calling Ruth her mom, and she knows it’s because the word mom has more heavy meaning behind it.

Emma: It was a good sandwich! Only a little time for fun since I’m here for work. I miss you too!

Ruth: There’s always time for fun!

Ruth: David and MM are driving up to visit me next weekend for the holidays. Are you coming too?

Emma: I don’t get vacation days like David does, so I’ll be in LA. I wish I could.

Her music stops between songs, and she hears the roar of the crowd on the television, seeing that the match just ended, and her treadmill starts to slow down, the time ticking down past five minutes so that it’s time for her to cool down with a slow walk while she keeps texting Ruth about the fact that she’s working over Easter weekend. She pretty much doesn’t have days off, except for days the team has off, until the season is over in October. Or early November. It depends. And then she’s back working in the office writing articles and doing prep work and occasionally having to suffer through covering basketball.

Bills must be paid, but at what cost to her having to listen to sneakers squeaking?

Ruth never seems to understand that because she thinks that she and David have the same job even though David has never once been on camera. He’s behind the scenes all the way.

When her treadmill time officially runs out, she steps off and gathers her things before finding a towel to wipe down the handles from where she touched them. Angry man is still eyeing her as she cleans up, and she seriously hopes that he is not going to be there tomorrow.

If he is, maybe he’ll be happier.

She doubts it.

He seems to just be one of those people who is particularly unpleasant all the time.

Sweat sticks to her skin as she walks through the hotel hallways, casually airing out her tank top and wiping sweat back into her hair to get it off of her face, and she very nearly walks up the stairs to go back to she and Ruby’s room when she sees people milling around the dining room with breakfast on their plates.

Breakfast would be good.

Mostly water. And coffee. She’s not entirely sure if she’s recovered from her lack of sleep yesterday, which made her question her sanity when her alarm went off for the gym this morning, but she knew if she didn’t work out then, she wouldn’t work out at all. And she needs that push of adrenaline and endorphins.

Grabbing a plate from the buffet line, she walks through and fills her plate with fruit and scrambled eggs, even if she knows they’re from a bag and not a shell, and a half of a waffle from the waffle maker. She always loves when they have those at hotels. Good continental breakfasts are her jam…especially if they have jam.

“Got enough toppings there?”

Emma nearly drops her plate when she hears his voice, and when she twists her head to the side, she sees Killian Jones standing next to her, his own plate full of food in his hand. Seriously. Why is she always running into him when she’s eating?

And sweaty.

“Not enough if you ask me.”

He adjusts his hat, a Vanderbilt one that is very obviously a decade old. “I was  asking you.”

“I like toppings,” she sighs, putting some more fruit onto her waffle before grabbing the whipped cream can and spraying some of it onto her food. Her workout is yelling at her for this. “What’s the point of a waffle if you’re not going to load it down with toppings?”

“I’m more of a pancake man myself.” He reaches into the buffet and grabs a yogurt, which is definitely not a waffle or pancake. “But considering I’m playing tonight, I’m supposed to be watching what I eat.”

“You have an entire plate of eggs.”

“Protein, Swan, protein. You would know all about that with all that barbecue you ate last night.”

Just let her sink into a hole right now and never come back up. The internet is ruining her life.

“Weren’t you supposed to be tracking Roseman’s pitches last night or something?”

She turns on her heel and walks away from the buffet to a table, knowing that Killian is walking behind her. They have the weirdest relationship. It doesn’t even feel right to call it that, but they’re somewhere between a working relationship and reluctant friends, and the fact that he’s placing his plate down on the table across from hers makes her lean more toward reluctant friends who see each other occasionally enough to have a bit of a rapport.

Her life gets weirder every day.

Killian Jones has one brave set of balls.

Baseball, testicles, whatever. Both work. At least, she thinks.

“You can eat right after you work out?” he questions, twisting the knob on one coffee machine while she does it with the other, the promise of caffeine already invigorating her.

“How do you know I was working out?”

He raises a brow before his eyes look over her, lingering a second too long at her breasts, before a slow smile creeps from one side of his lips to another that has her stomach twisting inside. “Well, it’s not because of your outfit. People dress more like they’re working out when they’re not every day, but the sweat still soaked into your clothes and in your hair are kind of a dead giveaway. Your face is flushed as well.”

“Observant.”

“I try, but it’s easy when you’re an open book.”

Totally not acknowledging that one.

She twists the knob on the machine and reaches over for the hazelnut creamer while Killian simply puts the top on his. He drinks black coffee? That’s disgusting. “Black coffee? Do you not have taste buds?”

He shrugs. “I don’t like to drink my calories. You want a water?”

She nods her head, and he grabs two bottles before following her to sit back down at her booth like it’s totally normal for them to be sharing a meal together. They’ve done it before, but that’s because she was working with him. It was not because they’re staying at the same hotel and happened to run into each other at the buffet.

Weird.

But she’s not about to be bitchy and ask him to leave when she has no reason to other than her own reluctance to talk to people before noon.

They sit in semi-awkward silence as they work through their plates. She definitely overloaded her waffle, but she would never admit that after earlier. That would be admitting defeat, and she doesn’t take too kindly to admitting defeat. Killian eats at lightning speed, scarfing down eggs and sausage, his yogurt untouched, and she wonders what it must be like to be a professional athlete and eat more than the average human being, even if it’s not all good food like pizza and onion rings and loaded down waffles filled with chocolate chips.

Her phone buzzes on the table, and she leans over to read the text from Ruth still trying to convince her to come home for the weekend when she’s already explained that she cannot.

“Boyfriend?”

“Huh?” she hums, texting a message before looking up and seeing Killian staring down at her, his eyes shaded under his cap. She’s so distracted by the fact that he asked her if she was talking to her boyfriend that she doesn’t pay attention to her answer. “Oh, no boyfriend. It’s my…um, quasi mom.”

“Quasi mom?”

Shit. She should have just said Mom. Maybe she’s a little flustered by all of this.

“She was my foster mom,” Emma explains, stuffing some eggs into her own mouth to give her some more time to talk, “when I was a teenager, but we’re still in touch because her son, David, is kind of like this big brother to me. I work with him and am close to his wife and kid and all.”

That was word vomit that she should not have shared. That is not information that she should just give out, and yet here she is. Obviously, all of the blood hasn’t returned to her brain since her run. Hopefully it’ll all come back soon so she can stop looking like an idiot with a messed up past who shares too much at a breakfast.

“David Nolan, right?”

“Y-yeah. How do you know that?”

He shrugs his right shoulder before taking another forkful of eggs, chewing and smiling in a way that reminds her of that scene in Thor where Chris Hemsworth is in the diner and throws the mug down asking for another one. Why the hell did they dye his eyebrows and his beard in that movie? That was a mistake.

“Ariel, my manager, is super hands on with me. She’s talkative, like extremely, and she shares all kinds of information that I never need to know. So, I’ve heard a bunch of random shit that I literally never need to know about. David sends her a hell of a lot of emails that I get forwarded.”

“So, do you just know my entire life story then?”

“If you’re entire life story involves you liking pretzels and waffles, and being asked out by a jackass on live television, then yeah.”

She barks out a laugh, her lips curving upward, and reaches down to take a sip of her coffee. “I mean, that’s it. There’s nothing else to know about me.”

“You sure about that?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

The smile on his lips fall into a straight line, his gaze intense, and he lifts the bill of his hat up before adjusting it back down. “Perhaps I would.”

“So, nosy,” she starts, still a little annoyed that he asked if she had a boyfriend and most definitely trying to lighten the conversation up again, “I’m going to be very self-indulgent and ask if you liked your segment. I want a more truthful answer than the one I got in the hallway.”

His lips curve up, pretty much taking up his entire face, and she can see the crinkle of his eyes as his long lashes land on his cheeks before opening back up to show his baby blues. Damn his eyes are blue. How is that even possible? Maybe they’re contacts or something.

No, that would be ridiculous.

“I freaking loved it. I mean, it was great. It was so simple, you know? You didn’t try to create some other angle, didn’t try to paint me as anything other than a normal guy. I really appreciate that. You have no idea,” he chuckles, reaching up to scratch beneath his ear. Is he nervous? Why the hell is he nervous? “I saw afterward, your cohost, he was a bit of a dick, wasn’t he? I know we talked about it a bit, but it seems like you just…well, it seems like the shit show is never ending for you.”

That is – that is not what she was expecting at all. She figured his apology was a one and done and that she’d never hear about it again.

“With my friends,” she starts, tapping her nail against the table, “I don’t mind. It’s funny. It’s something we can joke about, that I, myself, joke about, but when it happens in my professional life, it pisses me off. So many men have seen me as a joke in the past, have tried to tear me down that way, and it’s not something I like having to deal with now. I mean, it’s not like I can go off on them. That’s a great way for me to lose my job because I’m no longer,” she holds her fingers up and does air quotes, “likable.”

Killian lets out a low whistle as her heart hammers in her chest, her annoyance at this whole thing making her cheeks heat. It’s all so dumb, and really, she should hate him for it. She doesn’t though. She’s not always his biggest fan, but he apologized and obviously feels actual remorse. How was he supposed to know it would be like this?

And if she knows all of this to be true, why does she still get slightly irked by him sometimes?

Is that just because she’s so damn stubborn herself?

“Is there anything I can do to make it better for you? I mean, I put you into this situation. The very least I can do is try to get you out of it.”

“Nah, there’s nothing you can do more than treat me like a professional and go on as if you didn’t make an ass out of the both of us with millions of people watching.”

“I think I can do that. However I can’t promise not to keep making an ass out of myself though. My brother tells me it’s my natural state of being.”

“Your brother sounds like a smart man.”

“He likes to think so. His patients sure as hell hopes that he is.”

“I mean, I would hope so. Does he get to come to a lot of games?”

“He and Elsa and the girls try to make it to some of them, but it usually depends on if Liam is on call or if the game is too late, so it interferes with the girls’ bedtimes and school. But no matter what I always have a string of texts waiting for me afterwards.”

“They sound great. Your nieces are so cute. Like, adorable. When you posted that photo of the two of them wearing your jersey, my heart melted. That was cute, twenty-nine.”

“Twenty-nine?”

“Your number,” she says slowly, looking him over.

“Aye, I know. It’s just that I’m not used to being called that.”

“Oh, sorry.” She covers her mouth and takes a sip of her coffee. She’s never going to finish her food if they keep talking like this. “I call most of you guys by your numbers half the time. It’s faster, sometimes, for our stat-keepers. It’s a force of habit from back before the Yankees had names on their jerseys.”

“I like it,” he smiles. “You ever play any sports?”

“Nothing official. Why?”

“Just looking to see if you have a number I can call you, love.”

“Ooh, for a second I thought you were going to ask for my number, so that was a nice save.”

“Well, I mean, I could,” he shrugs, flashing that winning smile again.

“Not going to happen, twenty-nine.”

“Damn, I thought I’d stumbled myself into something. I guess that’s strike two for me.”

“Do you always speak in baseball puns?”

“Says the woman who made a joke about oral sex using a baseball pun.”

“Never claimed that I didn’t use them. I’m a fan of a good pun. If you can make it a clever innuendo, all the better.”

“I do love a good innuendo.”

“Yeah, I can tell with the whole tall, dark, and broody thing that you’ve got going on half the time before you whip out a smirk and do that thing with your eyebrows.”

“Why, Swan,” he sighs, waggling those damn eyebrows, “have you been watching me?”

“It’s literally my job.” He does his eyebrows again, and she flicks an apple chunk at him. “Shut it, twenty-nine.”

They sit in the booth and talk, the both of them going through two cups of coffee, before Killian gets a call that he needs to be on the bus to Minute Maid Park, which they both agree is an awful name for a stadium. It’s on the tip of her tongue to start naming off other awful names and major sponsors, but she doesn’t, holding that back as he gathers their plates and walks over to put them all in the bin, his mind seemingly having switched from casual conversation to baseball. She wonders how often he does something like that, just turning everything off to focus on his job.

She can do the same.

“So, Swan,” he sighs as they both walk toward the lobby, Killian to get on the bus and for her to walk toward the elevators, “you going to be around to interview me tonight when I walk off the field?”

“Only if my producer thinks that we need an interview from you.”

“Does this mean I need to play a damn good game?”

“Or a really bad one.”

“I’ll try for one of those.”

“Okay,” she laughs, backing away from him as she sees Scarlet and Fisher walk down into the lobby, “break a leg then.”

He raises a brow. “I’m not sure if that works in sports.”

“Guess you’ll be the first to try it out.”

Emma raises her hand to wave to him, before turning on her heel and walking toward the elevator, her mind trying to piece together all of the elements of her morning while her heart keeps beating like she’s still on the treadmill and not like she’s been sitting in a booth eating for the past two hours.

What the hell just happened?

When she gets back to her room, she quietly opens the door, not knowing if Ruby is awake or not yet, but as soon as she’s inside the room she sees Ruby sitting on the floor with her laptop in front of her with some kind of hair tutorial video on the screen. And whatever it is, Ruby is not succeeding at it, which is pretty much an impossibility with how good Ruby is with hair.

“What’d you do? Run to Manhattan and back? You’ve been gone for forever.”

Putting her phone and hotel key down on the dresser, she slides down onto the floor to sit with Ruby. Her legs are starting to ache, and she desperately needs a shower. She got a look at herself in the mirror in the elevator, and damn does she look rough.

“How long have you been awake?”

“Well, I woke up when you got up because you’re not quiet,” she huffs, tugging at her braid, “and then I woke up an hour ago. You’ve been gone for, like, three hours.”

“I spent a long time at the gym.” That’s not a lie, not really, but it’s not exactly the full truth. She’s not sure why she’s not being honest with Ruby, but it’s…it’s just what her brain has apparently decided on. That breakfast didn’t mean anything, right? So why would she hide it? Probably so no more jokes will be made about them. Yeah, that’s it. That has to be it. “And then I ate breakfast.”

“And you didn’t bring me anything?”

“Not supposed to take the food out of the restaurant area.”

“You could have stolen a banana.”

“Sorry?”

Ruby groans, twists her hair into another braid as the video ends, and then closes her laptop before looking at her, her eyes scanning over her outfit. “Let’s go get something from a café or something. What was that place we went to last time we were here?”

“Snooze, maybe?”

“Yes,” she hums, falling back against the floor before she very obviously remembers her slightly okay braided hair, “let’s go there.”

“I just ate, Rubes.”

“You can keep me company while I eat, and then we’ll go shopping before we have to come back and get ready for work.”

“Can I at least take a shower first?”

“I would prefer if you didn’t smell, so yeah.”

Emma reaches forward and slaps Ruby’s shoulder before getting up. “You’re the worst.”

“But I’m your best friend.”

“Unfortunately.”

“No, very fortunately.”

“Will you do my hair for tonight’s game?” she asks as she strips out of her tank top, sweat having practically dried it to her skin.

“If you let me wear your turquoise pumps.”

“You were going to wear them anyways.”

“Semantics.” Ruby waves her away. “Go take a shower. I’m starving, and I will absolutely perish if I don’t have food in my stomach in the next hour.”

[mrsprescott]

I (will never) give up on us

Request: Nathan and the reader get into a fight which causes them to “Break up”.

Genre: Angst, fluff

Word count: 1,710 A/n: this one is for @crszydrunkpotterhead. I am so sorry this took so long, I just have had a lot of personal things go down over the past few months. I hope you enjoy.

(Y/n) clenched her fists and her jaw tightened. She was taking short angry breaths and glaring at the man in front of her. “You know, I can’t help you Nathan if you shut me out and push me away. Is it your dad? Is he what’s making you like this today?”

“God, you’re such a nosy fucking bitch, even more so than Caulfield. I already told you to fuck off once.” He backed her up against the wall and his hands went on both sides of her head.

He leaned down until they were eye level, his cold ones met with her concerned ones. “Stay the fuck out of my business. I don’t need your help, never have and never will. Keep your nose out of where it doesn’t belong. It is really pathetic that you don’t realize how much of a useless burden you are. Now get the fuck out.”

Her face hardened, twisted up in a way he had never seen before. Her hands went up to his chest and she shoved him back. “You know what Nathan, I give up. I give up on you, on me, on fucking us. I am done. Done.” She slipped off the jacket she was wearing, his jacket, and threw it at him. “You can have every fucking thing back. Whatever you have in my dorm room will be at Victoria’s. You want me so un-involved in your life, so I guess this is granting a wish for you, huh? Every goddamn trace of me will be removed from yours.”

She marched over to the door and threw one last glance in his direction. Then she was gone, and he was left standing silently in the hallway. The gravity of the situation hadn’t quite hit him yet. He swallowed once, twice, three times before he stumbled backwards. He slid down the wall and his head fell forward. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, like he couldn’t speak. His head started hurt. ‘Good job Nathan, you once again managed to fuck up the only good thing you had going.’ He stayed there for a good half an hour. He didn’t seem to notice the odd glances thrown his way by the boys coming in and out of the dorm. He didn’t even react when Warren pulled out his phone and snapped a few pictures. Hayden had to practically carry him into his room. He tried asking Nathan what was wrong, but he never got a response. After about an hour of that, he left, turning off the light before telling Nathan to call him if he needed to ‘blaze or anything’. *** (Y/n) felt the tears welling up in her eyes by the time she was finally back in her room. She was shaking as she curled up into a ball on her bed. She felt her phone vibrate and she took it out of her pocket. The texts filling up her screen all had to do with Nathan in some way. Some were asking if he was okay, others came from the group chat that Warren accidentally added her into. The ones from that chat, which just consisted of stupid insults like ‘twitch’, made her more angry than she already was. She was half tempted to go off on all of them but decided it would be best for her to ignore them. She clicked off of her messages and froze when her eyes landed on her wallpaper. The tears once again welled up, but this time they spilled over. Her favorite picture of him was her screensaver. It was from a few years back when Nathan was in the school’s production of ‘The Tempest’. Nathan had been Caliban. She remembered how adorable he had looked in his makeup. She snapped the candid while he was smiling after their miraculously good performance. She had waited for him to change out of his costume and change out of his makeup outside of the tent. She clapped for him again, and pulled him into a hug before he could object. Much to her surprise, he hugged her back. She gave him a wink and a quick kiss on the cheek (probably a little too close to his lips) before she dashed off. He asked her out the next day. Well, it might be more accurate to say Victoria pushed him (literally pushed him into her) to ask her out the next day. She threw her phone as far away from her as she could manage, guilt was building up in the pit of her stomach. She heard it connect with something, and two loud thuds as her phone and whatever she had just knocked off her closet shelf hit floor. “Mother fucker.” (Y/n) muttered under her breath. She got out from her fluffy blankets with a huff. Pictures, movie ticket stubs, and letters were scattered all over. She laughed she picked up her old copy of “Planet Earth: Ocean Deep”. Nathan had loved watching the whales that episode, and (Y/N) loved watching the genuine smile that graced his beautiful face.It had only been a few hours, but she already missed him. She stared at the cover of the film for probably five more minutes. That’s when it hit her. She knew how she was going to see that smile again. (Y/n) slipped on her running shoes and grabbed her keys off of her desk and the movie. She switched off the lights and slammed the door shut behind her. She could hear Victoria yelling something behind her, but she honestly could care less at that point. She stopped at the lighthouse first, and made her way to the gift shop that was near there. She grabbed two whale plushies from the shelf and placed them the counter with a smile. Next on her list was the diner. She popped her knuckles before she walked up to the counter. She was met with the smiling face of her favorite waitress: Joyce. “Well hello hun, what can I get for you today?” “Just the usual Joyce, two orders of waffles with a side of bacon and two Cokes. Oh, and I was wondering if I could get it to go?” “Any reason why you and your boyfriend won’t be eating here tonight?” “Nathan,” she paused “isn’t feeling too well so I thought I’d just bring it to him instead.” Well, that wasn’t a complete lie. Or at least that’s what (Y/n) told herself. Joyce just winked at her and told her it was coming right up. She felt her phone buzz again and she slipped it out of her pocket. It was, as expected, from Vic. She was demanding to know what the hell was going on. (Y/n) sighed and hesitantly responded back that she and Nathan had fought and she was working on fixing it. She knew that would only cause her to be hit with a storm of more questions that she didn’t want to deal with so she just silenced her phone. She paid for the food and made her way back to her car. She took in a deep breath and drove back to the school. She got everything she needed from the seats of the vehicle and closed the door as softly as possible. She was certain David was lurking somewhere waiting to hassle any teen not in their dorms and didn’t want to alert him. She walked for a few moments but sprinted as fast as she could at the first sign of a flashlight. The boy’s dorm hall was empty, which was a plus. It was also surprisingly quiet for a Friday night, the only sound that (Y/n) heard was the floorboards creaking under her. She swallowed hard when she finally made it in front of his door. She knocked once, no answer. Twice, no answer. Three times, four, still no answer. She tried the handle and gave a mental cheer when it opened. That meant he was home. “Nathan?” (Y/n) called out into the darkness. She heard a sniffle. “(Y/n)?” “Yeah babe, it’s me. I’m going to turn the lights, okay.” She kicked the door shut and flipped the switch on the wall behind her. She stiffened when her eyes fell on him. His hair was all messy, his eyes were puffy and red, and she could see the watermarks tears had made his cheeks. She slipped off her shoes and left them by the door. “I bought some stuff, I hope that’s okay.” She lifted up the bags to show him and took a seat on his bed with him. “Nathan, I, uh, I wanted to say sorry. What I said was mean, and out of line. And I’m not done with you. I love you too much to ever be done with you and I’m so sorry. It was obvious that you didn’t want to talk and I should have respected that.”  (Y/n)’s eyes were watering. Her eyebrows furrowed when she saw Nathan’s head shaking ‘no’.  “(Y/n), it’s my fault. I was being a dick all day and lashed out. I honestly don’t know why you even came back, you don’t deserve this. You deserve so much better.” Her hands cupped his cheeks and she stared into his blue eyes. “You complete me, Nathan. So please, never say that again.” Her lips captured his sweetly. A smile smile was on her face when she pulled away. The night passed pretty quickly after that. After many lip locks during planet earth, whale plushie fights, and jokingly swiping syrup on the other person’s face the two of them decided it was time to call it a night. (Y/n) grabbed Nathan’s headphones for him and he slipped them on after he laid his head on her chest; she drew lazy patterns on his back. He was about to press play on his whale songs when (Y/n) pressed a kiss on his forehead stopped him. “No matter how much we fight, or how bad it gets, I will never give up us.”

[blumiin]

Lie to Me | 07

You couldn’t imagine that your short stay in Stockholm would eventually lead to meeting three boys which are definitely keeping some big secrets. - Now, getting more and more involved with them, you slowly find out about their past and what happened to them to become like this.

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gang AU Who: BTS Jimin x Reader Word count: 3,6 K

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 8 Part 9

Minutes passed. No words were spoken. You knew that you shouldn’t stare into his deer-like brown eyes, because they made you weak, but he was not different, keeping his gaze fixed on you. You noticed how that tingling sensation in your tummy from Jungkook’s attempt to kiss you, slowly faded into a feeling of longing for Jimin.

As realization broke in, your eyes widened and you tried to look somewhere but him. For seconds you thought about going out of the room, but then you would be confronted with Jungkook – and for now, you wanted to avoid that, so there was no other choice but to stay here.

“W-What were you doing u-until I crashed into y-your room?” You finally broke the silence to get some distraction.

“Starting a conversation, huh?” He answered with a light chuckle. “I’m just too curious what happened but I won’t ask.” He stood up and walked to his bed. “I laid relaxed on my bed while listening to music until someone pulled my door open and is now sitting on my floor.” He turned to you with a light smirk and you couldn’t help but to smile embarrassed back.

“W-What are you listening?” You asked. He looked at his phone to check what song was playing and huffed as he saw the title. Funny that this song is playing he mumbled to himself.

“Wanna listen?” He looked up to you while motioning to his phone. “It’s Oasis” You just nodded and the silver-haired boy made his way to you and put the headphone onto you, his light touch made your heart skip a beat. The song was already playing…

‘cause I need more time

Yes, I need more time just to make things right Yes, I need more time just to make things right

Yes, I need more time just to make things right

So don’t go away

You didn’t know the song but as you listened to the lyrics it made you feel sad. You peeked at him while he was standing at his desk fumbling some sheets of paper. Is he trying to say something to you or is your mind playing a trick on you? The words could fit into your situation but… — You were taken out of your thoughts as the next song started – Usher – Yeah! You laughed and Jimin turned to you with an obvious puzzled expression, making you laugh even harder.

“You have a weird playlist.” You stated to explain your little outbreak. He quickly walked to you and grabbed the headphones, holding them near his ears to listen what was playing. “Oh, come on….why out of all the songs on the list – why do they have to choose this one. It was on shuffle.” He rolled his eyes while reasoning the order.

“To admit, it’s a good song. I mean it’s a classic.” You smiled holding back your laughter. “It was just unexpected.” You unplugged the headphones so that that both of you could hear it. Jimin and you laughed and again, both of you began to stare into each other’s eyes intently. You were enjoying your time with him, laughing and talking about random things. You remembered that you barely had those with him, because of his mood swings… You still didn’t get that.

“Why is it so different every time I see you” You thought out loud. You words came out as a whisper but Jimin could hear them clearly, his expression changed as he heard them and you immediately slapped yourself in your mind for saying it aloud. Why were you thinking out loud?

He cleared out his throat. “I guess it’s better for you to go. If you stay longer they will get the wrong idea.”

“Yeah…you’re right. I should go back to our hotel as well. Tomorrow will be a long day. Gotta get some rest.”

His lips formed a thin straight line. “Do you have to do this this? – I mean did you think that through?”

“Honestly – I don’t think so. A part of me still doesn’t want to be involved with you guys” You sighed. “but another part of me is saying to finally come out of my shell and start to live. It’s also my way to pay back for all your kindness. That you helped Yoongi and became close friends, close enough that he even considers you as family. “

You looked at him and saw how he silently requested you to continue.

“My parents always were harsh on him, they wanted him to be a model student, have a well-paid job, at best a doctor or lawyer, but that wasn’t what he wanted. I always turned a blind eye on it because I didn’t know how to react and I regretted it the most when I had to say goodbye when he decided to study abroad. I knew he just wanted to be away from our family.” You felt how tears were welling up in your eyes. “And hearing that he was still suffering here – I – I—“,Tears fell down your face and Jimin grabbed your arm and pulled you to himself, his warm embrace comforting you. You were embarrassed how in that short amount of time you were in his room; you were showing all kinds of emotions. Moreover that you were comfortable enough to tell him these things and let your feelings flow.

“It’s okay. I’m sure he knows that you care a lot about him. “ He softly patted your back while whispering into your ear, his voice soothing you.

He patiently waited for you to calm down and for you to decide to get out of his hold.

“….thank you” You muttered, staring to the ground, being too shy to face him. “…and sorry. I actually wanted to go, but when they see me like this, they will think you or Jungkook did something bad. C-Can I stay for just few more minutes?” You asked him hesitantly.

“Sure. Don’t want to feel Yoongi’s anger again. “ Jimin said while scratching the backside of his neck. After that, he took his phone and played Usher- Yeah again and you immediately started to smile again.

“I knew that song would lift the mood.”

“How do I look?” You peeked at Luna, your eyes full of expectation and worry.

“Damn Y/N, that dress was surely a good choice. It looks amazing on you!” Her eyes were shining, holding both of her thumps up.

“Really? Don’t you think that’s too much, with everything?” You were a bit unsure about your appearance. You were wearing a navy blue, pleated neck holder dress with cutouts at the front, your back being completely free. Dark red lips, big hoop earrings and metallic high-heels finished your outfit. The whole day you were wandering from shop to shop to look for a decent dress you could wear for tonight and now seeing the complete look in the mirror you couldn’t recognize yourself.

“YES! I am sure a lot of men there will fall for you. “

“And what about you? Look at you. You look stunning.” Her black maxi dress with a low-cut neckline kissed her body perfectly and that long cutout to peek at her leg gave her a really sexy image.

“Okay… then both of us will seduce all men at that gathering.” She waved her hair cockily behind her shoulder while smirking at you.

“I can’t believe that we’re actually doing this.” You voiced your still present concern. It also was a lot of work to persuade your parents to plan their evening without you, but you somehow managed to come up with something – telling them that you want to explore the nightlife alone.

“There is no backing down anymore.  –and remember, there will be 7 boys there who would protect us if something happens.” You just nodded in response.

Buzz Buzz

“That must be Yoongi.” You took your phone to open your message.

YG: Ready? We are waiting in the lobby. YOU: We’re coming.

You quickly checked yourself in the mirror, deeply breathed in and out and got your jacket to go down to the lobby. In the elevator your heart pounded faster with each floor your were going down and the grip on your clutch became tighter. The door opened and you instantly had the feeling all eyes were on Luna and you, but all in all this is what you intended.

Your eyes wandered through the hall looking for the boys and quickly found them sitting leisurely on the sofas, wearing suits. Step by step you paved your way closer to them unnoticed until Hoseok shifted his head towards you and your best friend, opening his mouth in amazement. At that, the others turned their heads to the direction Hoseok was staring at and you felt how heat rushed to your cheeks, which took a rosy shade at the same time, when you saw their expressions. All of them suddenly stood up.

“Wow…where is my cute little sister?” Yoongi asked still astonished by your image-change.

“It’s too much right?”

“No, both of you look perfect.” Namjoon replied.

“Even I have to admit, that you’re almost as beautiful as me “ Jin intervened and all of you had to laugh by his comment.  Your eyes then shifted from Jin to Jungkook to whom you didn’t exchange any word after the – incident. You didn’t know what to say or how to react that’s why you just awkwardly smiled at him and to your relief he smiled back as if nothing happened.

“Okay, let’s go Jimin and Taehyung are waiting at the cars. “ Namjoon instructed and everybody walked to the car park.

As expected, the two of them stood there each of them smoking a cigarette and talking happily. Despite knowing how important this day is, they seemed to be totally relaxed. Not just the two but all of them weren’t showing any signs of uneasiness. It was something you also wanted to have because you were trembling about what was to come.  

As soon as both boys saw, Luna and you coming you couldn’t help but getting jealous of the way Taehyung gazed at Luna; full of awe and – love? Their relationship progressed quite a bit, every evening she is texting him and that little time they get together are so precious to her – but they still didn’t talk about being exclusive for each other, even though it seems that they already reached that stage. You then peeked to Jimin who gave you a warm smile. After yesterday, you got a lot more comfortable in his presence and you were happy that you weren’t that anxious around him anymore.

“Ladies. If the mission would be: seduce Taehyung then you certainly would have accomplished it already.” Hoseok said mockingly, making fun of his expression.

“Yah. I’m not that easy” Taehyung replied.

“YAH? Don’t forget I’m older than you.”

-

The car stopped in front of an enormous big villa, you’ve seen in magazines or on TV, in a neighborhood you thought you would never step a foot on. You bit nervously on your lip because you were dying on that seat; nervous would be a total understatement. Namjoon who sat on the passenger seat turned around to face you and Luna.

“Remember, the minute or better the second you want to quit or Jaebum crosses the line say it. Don’t force yourself to something you don’t want to do. Okay?” His expression told you he was serious and meant the things he said. Both of you nodded.

“Ready?” Taehyung, who drove, asked.

After in- and exhaling one time to calm yourself down, you looked at your best friend, who stared determined at you and you then shifted your gaze to the boy and said: “Ready!”

The door opened and you stepped out of the car, same did the others in the car behind you. The service employees greeted you and the only thing you could do was nodding timidly. As Taehyung gave the car keys to one of the employees, he swiftly went to Luna and linked arms with her. In your mind you thought that they couldn’t make it more obvious but at the same time you were envious of their relationship yet again. To reduce that feeling you quickly grabbed the arm of your brother to do the same. He was startled at first but he knew how stressed you were about this that he just silently went along. With Namjoon at the front, all of you paved your way to the entrance hall. Plenty of guests already found their way to the gathering and were happily having conversation while slurping on their expensive drinks.

“Miss, do you mind for me to take your jacket?” A waiter surprised you. You put off your jacket and gave it to him, thanking him afterwards.

Meanwhile the boys were busy shaking hands and saying hello to a few guests they seem to know. Therefore, you had the time to take a look at the whole event. It was truly a high-society event. The invited men and women were all well-dressed; dresses and accessories probably more expensive than your whole fortune. Waiter were all over the place with finger food or drinks on their plates busily serving the guests while still keeping a polite smile. Last but not least classical music was played by a small instrumental ensemble.

“Let’s split. We have an hour so for that time everyone can do what he wants.” Jin spoke after you found yourself being encircled by the boys again. In the car, Namjoon told you that it would be foolish and too suspicious to start the mission, which is why he wanted to delay it exactly an hour after your arrival.

“Yes. Look at your watches. It’s – 22:10pm.” Namjoon’s eyes wandered from his watch to 8 pairs of eyes and stared at them with a serious expression and nodded.

Like this, everyone split into groups, going to talk to other guests, to the bar to get a drink or like you to the dancefloor to – dance. Actually, you didn’t want to but Luna insisted to go there and out of those three options it was possibly the safest spot to be.

[22:13pm]

“Wanna dance?” Someone asked you and your shifted your gaze to Jin who stood next to you, expecting you to answer him

“Yes, why not.” You replied and he immediately took your hand and walked to the dancefloor. One of his hands found his way to your hip and the other held your right hand, while your left was placed on his broad shoulder and you slowly began to sway your bodies. You had to admit that you were terrible at classical dance, having classes years ago, therefore you felt awkward dancing like this but Jin’s understanding smile comforted you.

“I was really impressed when I heard you would help us.” He whispered in your ear after some time passed.

“Yeah…me, too.” You answered him, being as surprised as he is that you made that decision.

“Yoongi always described you as a really shy and cautious girl and it’s nice to know that you’re more than that. I mean back in Stockholm it was quite daring of you to go the boys apartment even though you didn’t know them. You are lucky that it was them.”

“I know. It was foolish but in that situation it was the best option and I somehow trusted Jimin, Jungkook and Taehyung.”

“I see. Just be careful next time. If you’re Yoongi’s little sister then I will treat you the same and you should see me as an older brother as well – a very handsome one” He giggled, then smiled at you sincerely and you were thankful for his words.

[22:32pm]

“Do you mind if I take over?” Someone behind you tapped on your shoulder and you were shocked to see Jungkook, who was the one asking. Met with his typical bunny-smile you turned your head to Jin again, who loosened his hold on you and skillfully spanned you into the arms of the younger boy. Your nose being kissed by his familiar scent you were reminded again of what happened the day before and you immediately tensed up, caught by Jungkook.

“Are you uncomfortable?” His tone sounding concerned.

What should you say? You were relieved that whatever you may call it didn’t destroy your friendship with him and that he was still the same guy, who didn’t avoid you. That is what you appreciated. However, you knew that something almost happened and not talking over this made you feel on edge. Does he have feelings for you? Or was is just an impulse? Should you ignore it and pretend it never happened? More importantly – do you feel something for him?

You blankly stared into his eyes, trying to find the right words, without sounding like a complete idiot.

“Yesterday –“, You waited for a second to observe his reaction but you couldn’t tell what he was thinking so you decided to just continue. “uhm— I’m sorry that I ran away.”

“I guess I would do the same if I were you.“ He said with a light chuckle. “I was surprised of myself. I didn’t think I would actually go for it and do something I wanted to do for a long time.”

You gulped by his straightforward response.

“for a long time?” You whispered shyly.

“I didn’t have the guts to do it back then in Stockholm. But let’s discuss this another time, tonight might not be the right moment.”

What did he just say? He already wanted to kiss you in Stockholm. Your heart skipped a beat the moment those words left his mouth.

“Okay.” You hummed.

For a time none of the two of you exchanged any words, just slowly dancing to the music and peeking at the other every now and then. It was not until Jungkook pulled you closer to him after circling you elegantly, turning the mood intimate. Both of his hands placed on your waist, his light but firm grip making you heat up. You were close enough that you could feel his heartbeat pound and his breath tickling your left ear. And you gradually got those strange feelings for him. You started to see him as more than a friend.

As soon as you were aware of this your eyes wandered everywhere but Jungkook. Unable to figure out what to do with your thoughts, you nervously bit on your lips. What a bad idea that was, because once he took notice of it he softly grabbed your chin and lifted it so that you could gaze into his dark-brown eyes, darker than before.

“Don’t do that.” His low voice sounding intimidating. “I don’t know what I will do if you keep on doing that. “ Cheeks blushing, feeling hot and opening your mouth several times to say something but nothing came out, that was you – but the fact that Jungkook could see what he was doing to you made you want to sink into the ground.

“Want to drink something?” If you could you would face palm yourself by your question, this is not something what you would call smooth.

“Sure” Jungkook chuckled and let go of your chin.

[22:49pm]

After letting Luna know where you’re going, you and Jungkook walked to the bar to get a drink – and you needed it.

“You wish?” The bartender asked.

“Something strong.” You quickly answered.

“And you, sir?”

“Same as her.” He replied with a smirk, obviously amused by your choice.

The moment you could grab your glass you drank it as if it was water, leaving a burning feeling in your throat and you instantly regretted doing that.

“Okay, I shouldn’t have done that.” You said, as you had to recover from that quivering feeling it let you have. Jungkook just quietly observed you and chuckled.

“Don’t get drunk.”

“No need to worry. This will be my first and last drink for tonight. Promise.” You jokingly held your hand high as if you were swearing an oath.

“I hope you’ll keep it.” He then looked at his watch and you almost forgot why you were here. “It’s almost time. It’s 22:58.” That means you should start to look out for Jaebum, who you haven’t seen once on this gathering. You scanned the whole hall but didn’t see him, partly because even though you had high heels on you were unable to see through the crowd. You turned your head to Jungkook, who was looking for Jaebum as well, but he was as unsuccessful as you were.

“This won’t do. Let’s go to Luna. The more eyes the faster we will find him.” He swiftly took your hand, intertwined them and walked with you back to your best friend, who was lovingly dancing with Taehyung. You rolled your eyes. Such lovebirds. It was not easy task walking through a dancing crowd but you finally made it.

“Did you see Jaebum?” You whispered into her ear.

“No, but Tae saw him.”

You then watched Taehyung who seem to understand what you wanted. He let loose of Luna and motioned for you to wait a minute. In the meantime, you paved your way out of the dance floor to avoid disturbing the guests and unnecessarily gaining attention.

“I just checked and he and his gang are still sitting at a table— there,” He pointed to a corner on the other side of the hall.

There he was, holding a drink in his hand and sitting there arrogantly. The one who made everything complicated for you and you couldn’t help but getting annoyed just by seeing him.  You huffed.

[23:06pm]

“I believe it’s better we start going to our positions.” Jungkook said and you noticed that you were still holding hands with him.

“Yeah.” You replied, your voice leaving a trace of sadness.  

“See you later. You can do it.” He removed his hand slowly while staring apologetic in your eyes and went off together with Taehyung.

Enjoy. Hope you all like it and have a nice day!!🐼🌼 

[robustcornhusk]

stressors, meandering:

today, there’s just under ~3 days worth of anki reviews to do, because i hardly did any of them yesterday and sunday. sunday, because the static human was in the apartment and i spent all from 9am when they first appeared to 12pm when they left buzzing (and normally i do the reviews from 9 to 10:30ish). monday, because the time-tracking was broken because technogorgon had poked the router settings and had inadvertently broken a bunch of the less-capable machines (raspberry pis, other housemate’s laptop) and so i wasn’t able to poke the pi and get it going, and the static human was in the apartment until 10am, and i was suddenly and totally done.

... and there must be more than that, because i’m pretty sure that usually i don’t lose my shit about not doing the reviews while the timer is going. i answer them from a tablet all the time. i do plan to ever get the anki db synced up with the timer db to use it to automagically find missing intervals and tag existing ones. 

on friday i saw my psychiatrist, and i said: i’ve felt unmotivated lately, my partner had noticed me not doing things i want to do, and i can’t tell if it’s (’just’) that i’m doing more every day  than i used to and i have less of myself left over for everything else (3-4 hours per day on the ~ & anki, stepped up on cooking lately), or if it’s something else... and i guess to an extent it doesn’t matter, because the result is “i need to do X, Y, Z, and A, B, C every day, and i’m only getting X, Y, and Z”... and to an extent it does matter, because it could be that X-Z and A-C together are more than any normal human could hope to do daily ... but i don’t know if that’s true in this case. 

i’m hoping for about 8 hours a day, about, to do things I care about; not even on top of working/holding a job. 3-4 hours of studying ~ (including organization, for-fun reading/watching tv/playing games in ~; i don’t want 4 hours of just answering flashcards), 1-2 hours for cooking, 1 hour for exercise, 1 hour for keeping our apartment in order, and maybe some time at the end for being an actual human to my friends.

which maybe answers why the weekends are often so draining, right: i’m still studying (half as much; only review, no additions), still cooking, still cleaning and errands; not exercise per se but my partner and i go out for 5+ mile walks... and most of this is with the static person there, and the only way to disengage from them is to be actively doing something else. 

why does it seem that they’re draining? 

one part is that their default is on. they’ve said that when they’re anxious, they talk more. they want/give more conversation if you say ‘hi’ than other people i know. 

they want to share things with people at what seems to me a very early stage. this is unpleasant when it’s occurring at/with me, because i don’t know how to say “we’re not that close” but it’s also uncomfortable when i’m only observing it occur... 

part is that many of the things they enjoy/like talking about/... are extremely upsetting for me (and for them, being told to not talk about those topics is extremely upsetting) and ways of seeing the world that are extremely important to them are ways that i must not because i inevitably (at least at this time) get sucked into a pit of despair. static often talks about how they can’t talk to their family or former friends about these things, and how it hurts them because it is a central part of them.

an example of the aboves: we’d gone to the county fair a few years ago, because rickety poorly maintained sick 80s airbrushed fair rides are the best. we briefly went to look at the demolition derby, because it was there. we’re standing on a crowded set of bleachers, surrounded by people, surrounded by a lot of people. somehow, it seems relevant, and static says: “Hey, do you want to hear a funny story about (bondage)?” “there’s a lot of people, and i don’t think this is really the place for it ...” a little bit later we leave and start walking elsewhere, still surrounded by people, and suddenly static dives into the bondage story, which is about them and some other people i know. i did not want to know it.

static and housemate were working on a project for a while. at one point, housemate is in the living room, wearing headphones, working on project. they’ve said many times to please not disturb them while they have headphones on; they’re checking their phone messages every 20-30 minutes so if you send a message there they’ll see it and respond soon. (and indeed, they did check and respond to things like “you need to get the garbage”, “we are eating dinner in an hour so it’d be cool if we could have half the table back”, “here’s a funny picture”) static was in the living room. “hey, (housemate), look at this! oh, (housemate) has headphones on. ... hey, (housemate), take your headphones off! come look at this!” (they’d previously interrupted me a bunch while i had headphones on, but i thought it was that they weren’t noticing the headphones, not that they didn’t care).

digression/comparison:

a person i used to sorta be friends with liked to tell me about people they were hooking up with, people they thought were attractive, how they were asking out people at work, people they thought thought they were attractive, ...). i had a conversation with this person about this is important to you, but also, i cannot be in the same room as people talking about this sort of thing. my housemates didn’t know, invited them over, and.... they started talking about that sort of thing again. i left the room; it had to be explained to them why. (they’d also been an ass, maybe to me in specific and not other people, for other things: “People are wondering why you’re here, since you don’t talk to anyone.”) I didn’t spend very much time with them for a long time after that. 

they worked with cohuman on a project in nov/dec and were still enough of an ass (i have grumped about this at length) that i have seen them a handful of times since (picking up pieces from the project;housemate had them over and i had a migraine, i ran into them while out). they made gestures at ‘an apology is necessary’ and didn’t actually give one. 

rejoining:

but it’s been pretty easy to not see them, because no one in my house is fucking dating them: the cohuman has also been fucking annoyed at them, my other housemates are aware that i have been fucking mad. (when my housemate had them over, housemate did check with me first: is it okay? i know you’re mad, so feel free to say no, ....)

and there’s no good way to say: roommate, your datefriend. they drive me up the wall. i can’t handle hearing about i am the reason why my ex-partner stop being a vegan, isn’t that funny (not in the “i forced them” sense) and here’s a story about kink and sex! and my landlord is incompetent! you’re going to listen to me complain! come over to our apartment sometime to hang out! and here are all the times i made really bad decisions about things like ‘substances’ and ‘driving!’ (not at the same time!) and i see we’re having a light-hearted conversation in the living room! let’s talk about time my friend commit suicide! and ...

when i moved to sf, i had been planning to live with housemate; i wasn’t totally sure how it was going to work out, partially because they’re way more on the if it’s worth doing it’s worth halfassing side of things than me, and i’m more on the it’s more frustrating to have something that’s half-right side. [overall with the effort-levels and tastes of four people it’s worked out.] but i figured that would be a minor complaint, and it’d be worth it for me to live with more rather than fewer people, both because i’d be miserably lonely otherwise and also because no one can afford to live in sf by themselves. it was a lot of fun, the first year.

i went to an event last summer and was in an unusual headspace. there was a conversation going on that housemate and i both had a lot of direct experience with (and that i had additionally studied academically), and.... every time i tried to say something, housemate would cut me off; to the point that i couldn’t even say “I’m going to go elsewhere” (we were in a large, crowded, confusing place such that informing people you were with of your whereabouts was at minimum polite). 

i’d had conversations about the same with housemate before, in similar headspaces, in similar and other places, and it hadn’t been like that at all. and more and more i feel like when we do talk about something complex, we’re talking past each other. so it happens less and less, and when it does we don’t make any sense...

when did it get worse? for one, when they started dating static. but again, i think, when they were unemployed for three months. it got better i think after we moved to a large apartment in an easier-to-leave area, and it’s gotten better since they’ve been working again, ... but not back all the way, maybe. i don’t know if it’s: i need more private space than this to live with housemates; i need to not live with housemates; i need more private space to live with this housemate; i need to not live with this housemate.

i can’t imagine us finding a larger apartment in sf without doubling our total transit time (to work, to appointments, for errands) (we lucked out; i think we were the only people to see the unit). there’ll maybe be some housing shakeups for people around us in the next year.

i don’t want to live alone (with just cohuman). when i feel awful my default is to not go out and see people; living with multiple humans means i do see some good friends nearly every week at least; when i’m wrecked they’re at least willing to pick food for me and deal with my share of the dishes when it’s just plates and stuff. i can’t tell to what degree they’re actually contributors to stress and to what degree my brain is just blaming something plausible.

and certainly to some extent it is that, right. i can’t stand hearing about sex/gender/kink etc from people i know very well. (from people i know very well? from people talking about it without qualifiers on what they know? people talking (with familiarity to me) about it? somewhere in there.) if i were a good person, or whatever, i’d be dealing with that. 

(i was going to say, ‘for example, if it’s that part of the reason that generalized-sexuality bothers me is that it seems like a sudden discontinuity in who a person is, why am i okay with people taking mind-altering substances but not people being aroused?’ .... but the answer is that i’m okay with drugs because, generally, people choose to take them at a time. i’m actually pretty annoyed by people who i go to see and it turns out they’re high as fuck and didn’t tell me before hand, and similar. but arousal is weird because sometimes it happens without much volition? it feels like being someone else. i hate it, sometimes. 

why am i okay with hunger and eating? well, i guess that good food is fun as long as i’m not totally full, i still enjoy thinking about food when i’m not eating or hungry, the change from not-hungry me to hungry me is smooth, perhaps because food is an okay thing to have or talk about in public. it’s not that food isn’t a topic that people can be Weird About (behold, a vegan). It’s okay to be or talk about being tired and sleepy in public, if boring, even though it’s generally not very convenient (for you or people around you) to sleep in public; i don’t have a lot of thoughts about sleep when i’m not tired other than “it’s not very convenient sometimes when i have a lot to do”. i guess overall i’d prefer to be less requiring-of-sleep. generally being tired in public doesn’t cause harm to come to people. it’s kinda hard to be tired or hungry at someone though i guess people get hangry and stuff, and i’d imagine arguments are common.

i hate having coughs or allergies, but i don’t really get distressed by a sneezing or coughing fit out of nowhere. they’re pretty treatable with allergy meds and cough meds

so sexual arousal is something i perceive as: occurs suddenly and without warning, whether it is wanted it or not; a thing people have used to hurt me (very directly and deliberately, as well as accidentally). it lowers how disgusted people are by something, but not permanently. if you want to induce it, you often have to do things that (if they don’t succeed in inducing it) make you feel grossed out or ridiculous; those things will be inconvenient, can be tiring or cause accidental injury; seem to be time delayed so that they only work after you’ve given up and tried to move on, ... when does attraction even come into the picture? 

(i have seen many recommendations for ‘come as you are’; the descriptions of it contained in those recommendations horrify me. straight to the depths of despair: the problem is intractable, impossible.)

(someone described a certain form of injury: you’ve hurt your leg, or arm, or back. your body sends pain signals: it hurts! it’s injured! don’t move it much!. you obey. great! don’t move it! it’s injured! see, it hurts! you don’t move it. see! great! don’t move at all! it’s injured! it hurts.)

...

gender is horrible because people decided i was one thing and i tried to go along and while i was bad at it, i still understood myself to be that thing, but i wanted to be something else, it was annoying that people thought i would like some things (name, body) when they were actually inconvenient and hateful. i tried something else, and that went better, and it’s still not something i would consider very .... .... additionally, it’s really annoying that some people will both say that i don’t have any real experience with the first thing because i was really in the second group the whole time while still treating me as a member of the first and very diffierent from how they treat the second. ... enough gay women have hit on me, but only after learning i’m trans... slightly more specifically, but not very, the set of people who 1) unconsciously slot me into one bucket and 2) think they consciously slot me into second bucket and 3) consciously attempt to counteract perceived/understood unconscious biases.

...

( i enjoy systems of ... more-opt in reading for this sort of thing, even before tags, right. people writing here use so many words that it’s easy to hide things i need to not see, or need to be okay to see, even if it’s hard to tag things accurately, and it’s not-silently-hidden. when it happens in my living room i get wrecked.)

when i’m afraid of it happening in my living room i get wrecked.

...

to some extent it’s not really possible/easy to ‘fix’ this sort of thing when i am primarily thinking ‘i have to fix it to be a good person’. moreover, it’s hard and a lot of effort to fix. and i’m not sure how important and necessary it is to fix, if i weren’t in this situation.

sexuality has been an easier topic for me, even when i was more recently fucked up, when it wasn’t a thing so much. gender has been an easier topic for me when it wasn’t a thing so much.

and i understand why it is so important to static to be very open about this sort of thing, and also it’s important to me to be closed about it. and i’m afraid they’re not going to be hurt by it unless i explain why, but/and/also explaining why to them hurts me and doesn’t guarantee than they won’t be hurt, will act in a way that doesn’t hurt me in the future, etc.

...

some years ago, a person hurt me in a way. the following year, an acquaintance of mine did two things: moved into an apartment with that person, and also began dating one of my (housemate&friend)s. acquaintance became a friend and on the topic of that person, said one thing: I won’t bring them up. I don’t know to what degree this was a hardship; were they friends? were they a shitty housemate? did they regret what happened, or was it like living with a person who had no idea they could be monstrous? i have no idea. i appreciated and appreciate not having to come to any consistency of emotion towards that person. (go with god, but go). 

 ...

leave/move, live with just the cohuman:

it’s expensive in sf, so we’d spend a lot, or live far away. no guarantee it will solve all my problems. won’t live with people, which might fuck me up, especially if i’m far from them. 

live with the cohuman in pittsburgh:

not many jobs for them. cheap, though, we could have space. it’s too cold to go spontaneously out a third of the year. we could live close to friends, or maybe with. it’s maybe too small a place.

move with the cohuman to a certain somewhere new:

what jobs? not as cheap as pittsburgh, but better than here. we could have space and still be near things. i could get around without a car all year. no friends.

stay:

keep sucking it up, because with high probability (waiting on the clock to run out) some factors will change this year. ‘accept’, in the “it’s going to happen, better plan” sense, that i’m just going to lose days to ... this. that, unavoidably, i’m going to run out of gas regularly like this; that of my remaining time, i’ll still have some baseline anxiety about that.

i’ll be watching myself watching myself watching myself watching myself ... until i can’t move or think. (what is the right thing to say or do right now? i can’t do the wrong one, because that might make _ happen, and _ is a real and bad situation; i have to think of the right one. is it _? well, right now, A and B, but i’m not sure of C, and _ will lead to X or Y or Z, and i don’t know how likely. i’m not reacting. they don’t know what i’m thinking. i can’t speak without thinking because that might hurt them, so i need to be careful about what i say. they might be confused or sad if they realize how careful i’m being to think through what i’m going to say, because i think i have given the impression that i’m too incoherent to speak. It might make me come off as manipulative or selfish or cold. if i express why i’m hesitant to speak it might make them feel like they have doing something wrong and been too distant or untrustworthy for me to speak openly to ...i can’t relax because i haven’t so i can’t because it might indicate that my thoughts have changed but i’m still in the same circle going around and around, so it would be misleading, and it’s usually bad to be misleading or lie, ...)

it’s not clear that i’m actually any worse off doing this over the others, is the thing; rather that the unpleasant things from lately are very visible to me. 

i feel better than yesterday, but i don’t think i’m going to get much done today, either.

[suchamazingness]

ch. 2

Fell dragged Blue from behind the hulking metal mass and into their new home. Once inside, he turned to the lower ranking officer. "Alright Blue, it is time to pick out and don a new disguise in order to trick the Earth peoples. Decide on what you will be now, for there will be no changing your disguise. Once you have a disguise, that is your new identity. Do you understand?" Blue straightened up and squared his shoulders. "Yessir," he barked. "Good." He carefully looked over his options. According to the data, it would be most widely believed that he was a teenage male skeletal monster. He sighed. He would likely not enjoy this. The mission. It was all for the good of the mission. Selecting a loose red t-shirt and a pair of black jeans and combat boots (he was a proud Dumas soldier, and he would not be wearing 'sneakers'. They were beneath one of his standing), he mentally prepared himself for the humiliation of being treated like a child and not the general he was. The clothes materialized in his grip and he left to get changed. ---~~~--- Sci stared at the ceiling. The blankets were getting uncomfortably warm. What the hell had he just seen? He knew that there were a lot of different monsters out there, but he also knew that they were most likely skeleton monsters if they were monsters at all, and skeletons don't have glowy streaks on their faces. They did not make weird chittering noises in lieu of speaking. His conclusion? These were not skeleton monsters. They weren't human. What were they? He sighed and pulled out his phone. He likely wouldn't get any sleep with this on his mind. He searched for at least an hour, using different keywords that had likely placed him on many watchlists, but the only thing he got was various UFO conspiracy sites. He growled in frustration. Sci fell asleep. ... Sci awoke to a loud static buzz coming from his computer. He blinked groggily, donned his glasses, and stumbled over to check it out. His screen showed a vague image of two shady tall figures facing the camera and speaking. They seemed to be speaking with the same sounds the glowing skeletons had used. He plugged in his headphones and hacked the transmission. "/Click click whistle click hiss pop?/" "The mission goes well, my Lord. We have landed, established a suitable base, and chosen our covers," an authoritative baritone reported. "/Hissssss click purr click whistle/?" "Yes. If all goes smoothly, the Earth will be ripe for the taking in 23 months." "/Growl hissssss?/" "Yes, I don't like the waiting period either, my Lord, but while data shows that this world's inhabitants are not...the brightest, they are all hostile to things they do not understand. We will need to be more stealthy about this than originally planned." "/Growl hiss pop click click hiss/" "Rest assured, my Lord, I will see the invasion carried out to it's full extent." "/Purr click click whistle chirp./" "Thank you, Lord. General Fell, signing off." The transmission ended. Sci sat back in his seat and started giggling maniacally. He had just heard an *alien* general report to his(?) *alien* overlords about the progress of his mission to *invade Earth*. This would not go over well. It couldn't. He had to tell someone. But... Who would believe him? No sane adult, surely, and the kids in his class already thought he was insane. Well then, he would just have to do it himself. ---~~~--- Fell's luminescent streaks shone lightly in the dim room. The Lords were, predictably, unpleased by the amount of time he would take, and that was *if* everything went smoothly. It most likely wouldn't. He glanced outside. The sky was dark, which meant the rest cycle had begun. It had actually begun long before they had landed, but still. Fell was a Dumas general. He couldn't be tired on enemy soil! He walked to his room - and stopped. "Blue? What are you wearing?" A spotty fursuit. That's what. The officer's strips of shining tissue began to flicker with a sky blue color. "My disguise. I'm a dog." Fell stared at him in complete silence for a few seconds. Blue's smile didn't falter. Fell shook his head incredulously and went to bed. What did the Lords saddle him with?! He walked to school, which was, fortunately, not far from his hideout. He showed up early, as usual. "Class, meet the newest useless lump of cells breathing the air in this classroom, Fell." Most of the students barely glanced his way, but there was one up in the front who stared at him in shock and horror. Fell's bioluminescent skin tissue tingled uncomfortably. "Now Fell, I am only going to say this once; if you want to say something, say it now, because after this, you no longer have a voice." Oooh stars what. Did they steal the children's voices? Did they have the technology capable of doing such a thing? The young male staring at him seemed to be utterly mute. How would he report to the Lords?! The stripes on his neck started showing through the fabric he wore around it. He swallowed down his panic and tried to make the red light his face emitted dimmer and his eyelights calmer. Show no fear. "Hello, my fellow students!" he boomed. "I do not wish to quarrel with you." Lies. He wanted to just rip them all to bloody pieces now, but the Lords would punish him and the mission would be compromised. "Just pay me no mind and we'll get along just fine." "Sit," the educator - who looked like an angrier version of Lord Gaster - commanded. His spine went ramrod straight out of habit, and he marched to his chair. The teacher started lecturing them on something or other, but Fell couldn't seem to focus. Mostly because of the staring kid across the room from him finally speaking up. "Am I the only one who sees the alien sitting in class?" Fell's equivalent of a heart stopped. The other children simply looked around, searching for the alien. Cold sweat trickled down the back of his neck. "Right there!" he hissed. "How do you not see it? This dumbass is *clearly* not from Earth." Fell felt like he was drowning. FuckfuckfuckfucKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK- "Look, Sci, I know you don't get out much, but it's getting to the point where I think we *might* need to stage an intervention. I mean, do you *hear* yourself right now?" piped up a kid in the third row. He flushed a light cyan. "Shut up. I'm serious. Seriously, I mean, look at his bones! They're all... semisolid. That's not normal!" "You shut up," Fell snapped. "It's a skin condition," he sniffed indignantly. "And those weird marks on your cheeks? Is that a part of your 'skin condition', Fell?" he challenged, already sounding victorious. Fell looked down and lowered his voice slightly. "Yes." There was a pregnant pause. "Wow. That was heckin rude, Sci. Just because someone's different doesn't mean they're an alien." A lean skeleton in the back huffed. "He literally has no ears!" "We are *skeletons*, Sci. None of us have ears." "Classic I swear to God I will rip you in heckin half if you don't stop sassing me young man." "I'm older than you." Sci ignored him. "So if he's a skeleton, how come he's got these weird bits of skin, huh?!" Sci growled, pinching his radiant membrane. Fell yelped. "Ow!" "Sci, stop picking on the new kid!" Classic scolded. The bell rang, and all of the kids filed out of the building. Fell sighed. Yeesh. "Fell, was it?" He nearly groaned aloud. He'd heard quite enough of this particular voice today, thank you. He turned to face Sci. "Listen, you freak," Sci snarled, "I know what you are. I know what you're planning. And I'm not letting it happen." "You act like you have a choice." "I do." "No, you really don't," Fell muttered. "Then I'll make a better one and I'll take that." Fell squinted at him. He was so glad he'd thought to get these protective coverings for his eyes, as Sci was standing in front of the sun. That didn't even make sense. "That's not how it works." "Yes it is. Now," he pulled a pair of circular pieces of shiny metal connected by a chain from his pocket. "Oooooh, shiny," Fell gasped. He couldn't help it. "Yep. Once I get you in these, you'll be knocked out so I can figure out what to do with you," Sci revealed. Ahahahahaaaa no. Sci ran at him. Fell ran from him. Sci chased him down and tackled him to the dirt. Fortunately, Blue had been wandering around (getting provisions, apparently,) and had seen everything. Using his (admittedly well crafted) fursuit, Blue snarled and growled until Sci squeaked and ran off. Fell brushed himself off. He could still see Sci following not to far behind them. Finally, they arrived home. Sci was in the window. "This isn't over, Fell! I know where you live, I know what you are, I know what you're planning, you can't hide for long!"