#I thawed it in the fridge. took it out for a couple of hours last night cause it was still rock hard

[boyapologist]

spent all day watching all the friends christmas episodes on DVD lol

[loiswolf]

Day 21 June 19 Fort St John - Dawson Creek 75kms

Some of you have probably been thinking I’ve had wifi problems again….nah, I just haven’t really been cycling enough to blog about it.

On Saturday morning I left the Warmshowers family ( I put their photo in the previous blog in case you missed that edit), pedalled into town then back along the Highway to the RV park.

At Toad River I had also made friends with Debbie and Tim who were driving the long stretch (388kms) between Fort Nelson and Fort St John on Saturday .They had agreed to take Shirley and I on board. My other option was to take the bus but it didn’t run until Monday ( today).

We found a place to fit Shirley in the RV and I was in the back seat of the truck with Rhino….the dog. It seemed like such a long way. We went through rain, spotted 3 bears and a moose, saw a helicopter taking water to a fire somewhere and climbed lots of big hills. I didn’t mind being in the truck one little bit and I also had the benefit of being able to talk to Debbie and Tim.

They were really lovely. I’ve met some great people hitching rides! It turns out there actually were places I could possibly have stayed in after around 230kms but they hadn’t shown up on the map. It’s also hard to know which ones are actually open and offering rooms.

About 13kms from Fort St John my lift was turning right to head back west to another town. We took a farewell selfie and unloaded Shirley.

I rolled over to the other side of the road to the servo for a coffee and some chicken wings. Then it was pretty much a downhill run all the way into town.

My motel appeared very quickly. I should have cancelled my booking and headed off to the nice Motel 8 up the road because this place was just awful.

My room stunk of cigarette smoke and the other tenants looked absolutely undesirable. I’m pretty sure there was a prostitute operating out of the room two doors up because every hour , on the hour , a car would drive up and someone would go in. Just before the hour was up they would leave and someone would arrive on the next hour. 😕 A little suspicious. You would have thought with all those customers the occupant would have been able to afford a better car than this rust bucket.

It actually moved a couple of spaces overnight. I can’t believe it was drivable!

My biggest regret was that I had booked two nights at this hideous place!

After a while I became used to the smell and worked out how to reconnect the wifi when it dropped out every hour or so. I woke up at about 4am the first night convinced there were bed bugs ( there wasn’t).

I spent my rest day actually resting. I did walk around the shops on the other side of the road covering quite some distance. The shops are all about 400m apart with huge car parks between. I watched bad movies and a had a snooze in the afternoon.

I woke at 4am this morning to get some water to find that the fridge had frozen everything in it. ( it was on the lowest setting). I pulled everything out so it could thaw by the morning and went back to bed.

So……today it was back on the bike!

I wasn’t in a hurry because today was only 75kms. Ok, I took ages getting ready because I couldn’t figure out the Wordle. Finally I solved it, packed up Shirley and headed off for my last day on the Alaskan Highway.

The first 10kms were unremarkable except for quite a lot of traffic. The next 10kms were a long downhill run all the way into the next town, Taylor. It looked like a much nicer town to stay in but it was too late now. The road continued down the hill and over a bridge. I was going too fast to realise I should have gone on the pedestrian pathway. The bridge was a metal grid ( I hate those) and nothing could get by me. I just hung on and tried to keep Shirley in a straight line, rather hard with the wind, and told myself not to look down.

After the bridge was a very long hill, about 6kms. I took this photo a little way up so you can see the scary bridge if you look hard.( it’s blue)

The hill wasn’t too hard even though it was long. This photo is from near the top.

All day it was a long slow hill followed by another lengthy downhill run. At about 50kms there was a town called Farmington which boasted one service station.

I foolishly bought a flavoured coffee to go with my cinnamon scroll. Sitting back outside in the wind ( the only place to sit) I realised it was milky and sweet so I tossed it over the railing and snuck back inside to fill the cup with real coffee.

Only 25kms to go. There were a lot of trucks and fuel tankers but the shoulder was good so I was able to stay out of their way. One last long hill was followed by a 10km run down into Dawson Creek and the end of the Alaskan Highway.

I’m not sure where it started but I’ve been on it for well over 1000kms.

I’d had some serious doubts about the motel I’d booked here. I was going to sneak in and check it out before paying but the lovely owner knew who I was as soon as I walked in. Rats! Turns out I didn’t need to worry. It’s a nice little place

And smells great!

[flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash]

Irresistible Danger - Part 53

Synopsis:  After being caught outside the compound on your own, Negan decides to punish you in the best way possible ;)

Words: 3,327

Warnings: nsfw, smut, swearing

ID Masterlist can be found HERE

Masterlist of all my fics can be found HERE

Author’s Note: The title for this chapter will make more sense once you read it (as will the gif choice), and I am SO excited for y’all to read this one *smirks*

A Ship Has Sailed 

By the time the Sanctuary appeared through the trees, an orange halo had formed where the sun was edging towards the horizon. In another hour that orange would be joined with pink, and they would take over all of the remaining blue before being consumed by the black of night. The lighting gave the large building a bit of a glow, but it also accentuated shadows and dark corners, making them appear longer. 

It served as a metaphorical reminder of whatever was happening between you and Negan. There had been a warm glow inside of you for the past 24 hours, since the resolution of the pregnancy test argument, and you wanted nothing more than to bask in the beauty of it. However, there were also still shadows and dark corners, parts that you were ignoring or straight up avoiding. You knew they wouldn’t go away on their own, no matter how wonderful the glow, and only you and Negan could confront those shadows together. The question was if confronting them would make them disappear...or cause them to grow until they completely overtook that glow, like a cloudy night with no stars. 

Your subconscious pulled out a large stick and began popping the intrusive thought bubbles, wanting no part of this damper on what had been a wonderful day. Agreeing for the moment, you tabled the thoughts, attention instead focusing on the upcoming front gate. There was a different guard on duty than when you left, due to the 6pm shift change that allowed both day and night guards the opportunity to attend dinner. But that wasn’t what had your attention; no, what you were fixated on was the fact that, despite being only a few feet away from said gate, Negan was still holding your hand. 

The guard’s eyes were watching as you approached, so to pull away now would be even more obvious. Instead, you tried not to appear as though every muscle in your body was tensed with uncertainty as the gate swung open and you walked past. Negan only gave a slight nod of acknowledgement to the guard, before continuing on as if nothing had happened. 

Sliding the guard a look out of the corner of your eye, you saw with a start that he was looking right back at you. Eyes darting forward, you tried to copy Negan’s aloof demeanor and not look as though it was taking all of your mental energy to remember how to walk like a normal human being and not trip over air. Nothing to see here, my guy. Just a typical evening stroll with your volatile and totally-not-holding-my-hand-as-if-we’re-a-couple leader. 

Negan only let go of your hand when reaching the front door of the Sanctuary, so that he could pull open the heavy metal. He then stood back, arm braced at shoulder level to hold the door, and it took a good ten seconds of you awkwardly standing there to realize that he was waiting for you to go in first. Holy crap, Negan was being chivalrous, and in public! Your subconscious squealed at the gesture and darted inside, while your brain tipped its hat to him in thanks before also walking in. Still a bit stunned over what was now two blatantly affectionate gestures in front of anyone who happened to be watching, you silently ducked under his arm and entered the building. 

Adding to your shock, once he had followed you inside and shut the door, he put a palm on your lower back to guide you down the hallway. The heat from his hand practically singed the thin fabric of your shirt with its silent possession, and it was so distracting that you almost missed it when he started making the turn to the stairwell that would lead back to his room. You felt a surge of relief that he wasn’t just sending you back to your own room after the cold shoulder moment in the woods, and some of the ice shards that had earlier formed around your heart as protection started to thaw. 

“Hold on,” you said, putting a gentle hand on his forearm. When he looked down in question, you added, “Ben said he’d leave us some dinner leftovers in the kitchen’s fridge.”

You were glad that he didn’t make a smartass quip at the mention of Ben, instead silently turning with you down a different hallway that led to the kitchen, his warm hand still present. You tensed a bit when passing a few community members in the hall, but if they noticed his touch, they didn’t show it. Instead, they were too busy dropping to their knees and lowering their heads in greeting. Your subconscious loved this, strutting past as if a royal before its subjects. Negan barely acknowledged them, while you felt distinctly uncomfortable and hoped to never become desensitized to such an unsettling sight.

Arriving at the cafeteria, you entered the large empty space, which was dimly lit due to the fading evening light coming in from the windows. Passing the rows of tables and pushing open the swinging doors to the kitchen, you were surprised to see that, unlike in the cafeteria, the overhead lights were still on in here. Since the dish washers were usually the last to leave, you assumed they had forgotten to flick off the lights on their way out. You’d make sure to have a discussion with them tomorrow, since it was important not to waste precious electricity here. Negan and his engineering team might have a fancy setup going on that allowed such luxuries as working lights, but that didn’t mean it was okay to abuse the privilege.

Crossing the tiled floor to the fridge, you had just opened the door and pulled out two small plastic containers of leftover tuna noodle casserole when there was a distinct and sudden thump. Whirling around, you glanced over at Negan, even though it was obvious he hadn’t made the noise. His gaze was fixed on the entrance to the pantry, which was located at the back of the kitchen. It was apparent the sound had come from that direction, and it was too loud to have been caused by a rodent or a box falling over. No, it had definitely been more of a human-sized thump. Since no one was supposed to be in the kitchen after-hours, the thought of an intruder made a lump of fear rise in your throat.

Negan’s gloved hands were now both wrapped around Lucille, and she hovered a few inches off his shoulder in the locked-and-loaded position as he confidently yet stealthily started across the kitchen. You followed a couple of feet behind, ready to throw the leftover casserole at any potential thief or walkers as a distraction so that Negan could beat them to death, if needed. You also still clutched Ricardo in your other hand, if the leftovers-to-the-face and Lucille-for-dessert plan wasn’t enough. You tensed for action when Negan’s own hands tightened on the bat and he stepped into the pantry’s entryway. 

“Don’t fucking move,” he growled in a voice so deadly that it would’ve caused bladder complications if you were on the receiving end of it.

A clatter of cans and a muffled, “Shit!” came from the pantry. You saw Negan’s eyes go wide in shock, his mouth even dropping slightly open as the hands on Lucille relaxed and lowered. Now curious as hell, you came up behind him, standing on tiptoes and peeking over his shoulder for a view into the pantry. The sight that met your eyes almost made you drop both Ricardo and the food. 

The first thing you registered was the tall, broad man who was quickly pulling his shirt down over his head to cover a well-muscled, not to mention well-furred, chest. Your brain recognized that it was Simon and was wondering what the hell he was doing undressing in the pantry, when movement behind him caught your attention. The second, slightly shorter figure was running nervous fingers through his disheveled hair and looked about to vomit with fear at being caught. Then his eyes traveled over Negan’s shoulder and saw you were also standing there, and a flash of relief came across his face.

Since it was obvious there was no actual threat to your safety, you came up beside Negan and cleared your throat awkwardly before saying, “Hiya, Ben. Fancy seeing you here this late.”

His face was so flushed that it was a wonder steam wasn’t coming off his skin, but he played along with your attempt to diffuse the situation. His voice came out quiet and croaky when he said, “Yea, uh, must’ve lost track of time.” 

You wanted to rush forward with a squeal and give him a reassuring hug and high five for what had obviously been a hot and heavy make-out session with the man he’d been hardcore crushing on. However, you also realized that this situation could go downhill very quickly, depending on how Negan reacted to the revelation. There was also the uncertainty about how Simon would handle this, since you had no clue how open about his sexual interests he might or might not be. 

That latter question was quickly answered when Simon put a proprietary arm around Ben’s waist, looked at Negan with a huge, good ol’ boy grin, and said, “Apologies for the lack of professional conduct. I dropped by to see how the dinner clean-up was going and, well, you know how one thing can lead to another.”

He said the last with a bit of a glint in his eye, as if daring Negan to deny that yes, he did indeed know how one thing could lead to another, including here in this very kitchen. At least Simon and Ben had been smart enough to conceal themselves in the pantry, rather than fuck right on the counter for all to see, the way you and Negan had just a couple nights ago. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be on fucking duty somewhere?” Negan asked, voice low and full of threat. If Simon was currently leaving a guard post unattended, you knew he was in for a world of hurt. 

However, instead of looking worried, the mustachioed grin got even wider as he joyfully said, “Nope! I switched out with Luis at 6, so my evening is free as a bird.”

You had to give the man credit for appearing so relaxed and carefree, especially with a boss who could literally remove his head with a hefty swing standing semi-pissed in front of him. You weren’t sure if Simon was just that confident, or if he was that unhinged. You hoped, for Ben’s sake, that it was the former. 

Negan unflinchingly stared Simon down for a couple of long seconds, until the other man quickly lost the grin and dutifully lowered his gaze to the floor. A glance at Ben showed he was wringing his hands together nervously and also staring down at the ground, as if hoping it would open up and swallow him whole.

Satisfied at the other men’s show of deference, Negan finally growled out, “The fuck is it with all my fucking Saviors sneaking around at night to fuck the fucking kitchen staff.”

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and marched back across the kitchen, towards the exit. Giving one last (and hopefully reassuring) look at a still-frozen-in-worry Ben, you scurried after him, stopping briefly at the cupboards to grab two forks and cups. When he reached the swinging doors and held them open for you to exit first, he threw sternly back over his shoulder, “You better fucking disinfect any surfaces you fucking desecrated.”

He belied his terse tone by throwing a wink and smirk in your direction, though Simon and Ben obviously wouldn’t be able to see it. Hoping that his nonverbals were a more telling predictor of how he felt about all of this than his verbals had been, you both crossed and exited the cafeteria, before starting the trek up to his private rooms. 

You passed a few more community members in the halls, but if they found the sight of you and their leader walking together strange, you were too consumed with what had just happened in the kitchen to notice or care. It was obvious that Negan also had no fucks to give about being seen with you, since he twirled Lucille and whistled in that playful yet threatening way that only he could pull off.

When you reached his rooms, he led the way into his bedroom and over to the little black table with two white armchairs. Setting down the containers and forks on the table, and propping Ricardo up against the nearby armoire, you went into the bathroom to fill the two glasses in the sink. It was only when you had returned and settled into the chair to eat that you realized your mistake.

“Shit,” you blurted, earning an eyebrow raise from the man already shoveling the first forkful of casserole into his mouth. “We didn’t heat it up.”

Giving an uncaring shrug, he said around the mouthful, “It’s tuna and noodles. Tastes fucking fine cold.” 

Taking a tentative bite, you found that he was correct. Sure, it wasn’t as gooey and creamy as when warm, but the flavor was still pretty darn good, so you forgave your lack of foresight in the face of processing the Ben and Simon situation.

The two of you ate in companionable silence, and you wondered if Negan’s thoughts were as preoccupied with the events in the kitchen as yours were. Thankfully, you didn’t have to wait long to learn that the answer was yes, Negan was definitely thinking about it. Out of nowhere, he let out a loud bark of laughter, causing you to jump and almost choke on the noodle you had been chewing. 

At your questioning look, he said, “I’m just remembering the fucking priceless look on ol’ Benny Boy’s face when he saw me standing in that fucking entryway.”

Hoping that his humorous response was a positive thing, and that Ben wasn’t further on Negan’s shit list, you questioned, “So you’re not upset about him messing around with one of your most devoted Saviors?”

Giving a quick shake of his head, he stabbed more noodles with his fork. “Fuck no. Simon deserves a bit of fucking fun.”

“What if it’s more than just fun to them?” 

You couldn’t help the question, trying to figure out just how okay with all of this Negan really was. You knew that it wasn’t only the fact that Ben had been caught in such a compromising and unprofessional position, but also that he had been caught with another man that could make this a potentially unsafe situation for him. Ben had always seemed to keep his interest in both men and women fairly quiet, which was his right to do so. If Negan showed any hint of discrimination, or gave any inclination that he would out Ben to the community, then you wouldn’t hesitate to rain holy hell down on him. 

Instead, Negan’s unexpected response was, “Well then, if it’s the real deal, I’ll throw them a fucking congratulations party.” 

Unable to hide your look of pleasant surprise, he said, “What? People deserve to find some fucking happiness where they can in this dreary-as-shit world we’re livin’ in. So long as they continue to get their fucking duties done, and follow my fucking rules, I don’t give a shit who they play ‘hide the salami’ with.”

You were a bit stunned at his progressive and open-minded thinking, and it only caused you to warm towards him even more. It also made you want to stop being so quick to see the worst in him, and the worst in yourself for liking him so much. Pushing that self-doubt from earlier in the woods even further to the back of your head, your subconscious jammed it down into a metal box so your brain could click it shut with a padlock. There it would stay, along with all the other questions still left unanswered between you and Negan, until you felt more ready to open it up and deal with them.

Finishing the last bite of casserole and feeling pleasantly full, you then registered that another basic need wasn’t being met: cleanliness. You felt a bit grimy from being out in the woods, not to mention the layer of dried sweat on your skin from both wandering around a hot forest and engaging in some extra-strenuous activities with Negan. 

“Is it alright if I use your shower?”

You swore Negan’s eyes darkened a shade at that, and his voice sounded a bit lower than usual when he answered. “What’s mine is yours, doll.”

Wow. Pretty sure your subconscious had just slithered to the floor in a pile of goo at the promise in both the words and his tone. 

Rising on now-wobbly legs from the chair, you started towards the bathroom. Before you could overanalyze or second-guess the decision to death, you whipped the shirt up over your head and tossed it to the floor. Glancing back over your shoulder at him, you gave a playful grin and unhooked your bra while saying, “Care to join me?”

He was up out of the chair before the words even fully left your lips, and you had barely made it across the threshold of the bathroom before he was on you. Arms snagging around your waist, he turned you into him and crashed his lips down on yours.

The bathroom became littered with clothes as you hurriedly pulled them off each other before stumbling back into his massive shower. You abruptly yelped when he first turned on the water, the temperature borderline freezing as it pelted down on your bare back. He gave a husky chuckle and reached over to adjust the knobs, and you sighed in satisfaction when the stream heated up against your chilled flesh. 

Trailing greedy hands across his warm skin, you followed the path of a water droplet down his chest while thinking back to the various times you had fantasized about this very moment, about him naked and wet and yours. When he bent down for a kiss, you swore he poured not just his desire but also, dare you say it, his emotions into the kiss. You had felt these tiny hints of vulnerability he was trying to share with you throughout the entire day, ever since waking up in your bed this morning. He was trying to show that although he was terrifyingly deadly and intimidating as fuck with everyone else, he could be caring and gentle with you. 

And how had you reacted? By shutting down and questioning his motives. There was a part of you that still refused to fully believe this would last, but maybe it was time to start enjoying it while you could, and not think too much about tomorrow. Suddenly, you wanted to reciprocate, to show that you had noticed how hard he had been trying to connect. And while maybe words would work, you and Negan’s communication skills had always been more about nonverbals and actions. 

Pulling back from the kiss and visually drinking him in, you were caught off guard for the millionth time by how god damn attractive he was. His hair was damp from the spray, and you wanted to lick the water droplets clinging to his neck and shoulders. However, you had another destination in mind, one that you had yet to explore but didn’t want to leave unattended any longer.

Looking up into his tawny eyes, you gave a sly smile and whispered, “Just so you know, this is the only reason I will ever kneel for you.”

Then, with gazes still locked, you fell to your knees on the wet tile...and took his cock in your mouth.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~

[bonelymonsterclub]

"Are you warm enough?" Killer!Sans & Outertale Sans

“are you warm enough?”

Sans eyed the skeleton bundled up in as many layers of blankets as was available in the household on the sagging couch. Papyrus had stumbled across the other monster drifting in from the depths of the cosmos in a comatose state while on one of his patrols and had immediately whisked him to the nearest shelter, which coincidentally happened to be their house. The skeleton, who looked eerily similar to Sans, hadn’t said a word or even really moved. The only sign that he was still alive was the floating apparition of what Sans assumed was his soul - a glowing red target hovering in front of his chest. Papyrus was upstairs, hunting down more blankets for their guest, whose bones were still tinged blue from prolonged exposure. There was also an odd black sludge beginning to leak from his eye sockets that was pretty concerning…

“Well, that was the last of them,” Papyrus announced as he bounded down the stairs. “Do you think it will be enough, Sans?”

Sans took a good, long look at the giant fabric-snowball the skeleton had been turned into and offered his brother a thumbs up. “lookin’ good, paps.”

Papyrus barely looked assuaged, but accepted it with a nod. “Right. I will return to my patrol, then. Keep an eye on him, brother, and call me immediately if anything happens. There’s some leftover spaghetti and sea tea in the fridge; please remember to eat today.” Papyrus started for the door, but paused next to the couch and unwound his scarf, tucking it around the barely bared vertebrae of their guest’s neck. He shot off like a rocket out the door once he was done, and Sans watched him leave with a fond smile. His brother was so cool…

He turned back to their guest with a soft sigh before flopping onto the free end of the couch. “guess it’s just you an’ me. let’s watch some tv, pal.”

It was about an hour into the mindless Mettaton binge that Sans began to feel an inkling of hunger. He’d never had the greatest of eating habits, often forgetting in favor of something more mentally stimulating and requiring less physical effort, and Papyrus was working hard to remedy that. Normally, he would drag it out until the hunger began to ebb, then eat the bare minimum, but with a single glance at the slowly thawing monster seated beside him, he decided to do his brother proud.

“hey, you hungry, buddy?”

His double actually stirred at his voice this time - sluggishly lifting his head from where it was bowed against his sternum, no eye lights, no verbal reply, but it was more than he’d done since Papyrus burst through the door with his frozen bones cradled in his arms. Sans smiled slightly, glad the monster didn’t appear to be Falling Down, and slid off the couch. He patted the area where the other Sans’ shoulder probably was beneath the blankets in passing.

“alright, sit tight. i’ll fetch us some grub.”

Papyrus had recently (begrudgingly) asked Grillby for cooking lessons after somehow accidentally giving Sans food poisoning (which shouldn’t have been possible, given the food was magic, but his bro was so cool that he defied natural law), and so his “world class spaghetti” was actually somewhat edible. Instead of splitting the leftovers into separate servings, Sans just grabbed the entire tupperware dish, a couple of forks, and the mug of sea tea and returned to the living room.

“y’know, i’m gonna give you a nickname. we can’t both be ‘Sans,’ after all, and i was here first, so i call dibs.” Sans twirled a forkful of spaghetti and ate it thoughtfully as he watched the strange sludge sleuthing from the others’ sockets slowly turn more watery. “hm. maybe... tartarus? heheheh…”

No news was good news, they said - or rather, in this case, no answer was equivalent to silent approval.

“yeah, i thought that was a good one, too. glad we’re on the same page.”

Once Sans had his fill of spaghetti and a mouthful of sea tea to wash - and keep - it all down, he slid closer to the newly dubbed “Tartarus.” “okay, let’s see just how similar we really are. bone appetit, pal.” He spun a new forkful of noodles and brought the utensil up to the other’s teeth. Before his eyes, the food was suctioned into Tartarus’ mouth without it even needing to open. “heh, that good, huh? here, have some more.”

Sans steadily fed the rest of the spaghetti to his unresponsive company, and even managed to coax some sea tea into him as well.

“whelp, i’ve done about all i can do at this point,” he said, gathering the emptied dishes and heading for the kitchen - it would be a crime to lazy skeletons everywhere if he were to actually put the effort into cleaning them, but it would be easier on Papyrus if they at least made it to the sink. When he returned, it was to the sight of Tartarus shifting around in the blankets. His strangely exposed soul was wobbling at the edges, much like a skeleton’s eye light was prone to do in cases of strong emotional responses, and as his head turned towards Sans, a faint ring of white was visible in his right eye socket. “sup?” Sans casually strolled closer, keeping his hands at his sides instead of in his pockets upon recognizing the cornered expression on the others’ face - it was the same look Grillby got sometimes when he had an episode. “let me help ya out of there.” He kept up a steady stream of chatter as he started unraveling the layers around the other. “sorry about this. my bro always puts one hundred percent into everything he does, and that included getting you bundled up. you’re lucky he found you out there; you fell into the best hands.” He finally reached the last few blankets and took a half-step back to give Tartarus breathing room as he freed himself. Sans offered a hand with a guileless smile. “i’m sans, though, somehow, i’m sure you already knew that.” He winked. “i can feel it in my bones.”

Tartarus stared at Sans’ hand, face void of expression. Whatever Sans was expecting him to say, it wasn’t, “Why did you help me?”

“well... i didn’t, not really. it was mostly papyrus.” Sans let his hand drop. “but i would’ve done the same if i was in his shoes. metaphorically, ‘course, since his feet are bigger tha-”

“I killed you, once,” Tartarus interrupted, eye light darting up to meet his. His soul had taken on a misshapen version of what a monster soul was supposed to look like. “You should’ve left me out there.”

Sans scratched the back of his skull, mulling over his copy’s words. He took a good long look at the guy, and felt what might’ve been the stirring of deja vu (which could’ve just been from looking into a face that was essentially his own), but otherwise, there wasn’t anything. But he could tell that the guy wasn’t lying.

“well, do you wanna kill me now?”

“No,” he replied immediately, then seemed to blanch. “I mean-”

“it’s fine, then,” Sans shrugged. “i don’t remember it, and i’m alive now, so i don’t see why we can’t start over.” He held out his hand again. “the name’s sans. sans the skeleton.”

There was still a beat of hesitation, but the other reached to accept his offer. “I’m-”

A sudden shadow sweeping across the room cut him off and the Sanses turned in sync to look at the inky blob of a skeleton who’d come into existence in front of the door. He appraised the situation with a cold teal eye, though his gaze mostly ghosted over Sans and locked onto Tartarus - or, apparently-

“Killer.”

“Oh, hey, boss,” the newly-revealed ‘Killer’ (which Sans found a bit on-the-nose - not that he had one - after the other’s confession) greeted casually. “Finished wrapping things up already?”

“No thanks to you.” Killer’s “boss” looked to their clasped hands and his eye light constricted like a predator spotting its next prey. “Is there a problem here?”

Sans felt a chill slither down his spine, knees growing weak, and his first instinct was to release Killer’s hand, but Killer had other plans as he tightened his own grip.

“Nah, no problems. Just making friends.” Killer cleared his throat. “If I could have a few more minutes…?”

There was a heavy beat of silence before the goopy monster gave a very put-upon sigh and the air cleared of tension, the unnatural shadows seeming to drain into the substance that made up his body. “Don’t leave us waiting for too long.”

Killer visibly brightened and for the first time, Sans watched a grin spread across his face. It suited him much better than the almost permanent grimace that’d graced his expression until then. “Aw, did Cross miss me?”

The new skeleton - who seemed to be coated in the same liquid that was coming from Killer’s sockets - rolled his eye and opened the door to walk out. Killer leaned over to peer through the gap, and Sans followed suit in time to catch a glimpse of yet another look-alike to him and Killer, but clad in what appeared to be many layers of black and white. His arms were folded and when he looked up as the door was closing, he tried to steel his expression, but he couldn’t contain the worry crinkling at the corners of his sockets. Then there was a layer of wood between the two duos of Sanses.

“so…” Sans dragged his gaze back to Killer. “... friends of yours?”

“Heh, guess you could call ‘em that.” Killer finally released Sans’ hand and tugged at the drawstring of his hoodie. “Listen, since Nightmare -” Sans assumed that was his boss’ name. “- personally entered your universe, you’re probably going to be visited by the ‘Guardian of AUs’ and his merry entourage.”

“if you’re avoiding someone with the title of a guardian, what does that make you?”

Killer visibly hesitated. “I’m on a time limit, so I can’t stay long enough to tell. But- just- don’t immediately accept their offer to join them. Give me a couple weeks, and I’ll come back and give you a full explanation. I- I promise. And then whatever you decide to do, it’ll be with both sides of the story.”

Sans took in his solemn expression and the stable inverted heart-shape his soul had settled into, and it wasn’t hard to make a decision. “well, i do like having all the information before i make a decision. you got yourself a deal, only if you bring your a-game next time. i’m feeling a little bonely being the only one making puns here.”

Killer’s shoulders slumped slightly, and his smile returned. “Well, I can’t deny a fellow funnybones a fair challenge.” There was a solid rap on the door and Killer tilted his head towards it slightly in response. “That’s my cue. See you soon, and I’d like something to officially call you, Outertale Sans.”

With a wink and half-wave, Killer disappeared, there was a smattering of murmurs outside the door, and with a brief influx of magic and chill in the air, the trio of presences outside blipped away. It only took about twenty-four hours for more look-alikes to show up - Ink and Dream, they introduced themselves as, and they painted themselves as the guardians they claimed to be, and slandered Killer’s group. It was a lot to wrap his head around - thousands of alternate universes; a constant battle between positivity and negativity, creation and destruction; and, as Killer had forewarned, an offer to join their staff. Sans begged off a few weeks to think over his decision, held a family meeting with Papyrus to catch him up on everything he missed since he left with Killer on the couch and returned with him gone, and settled in to wait. And about a week after Dream and Ink left him to consider his decision, as he was taking his third legally required break of the day, a solid knock on the counter of his sentry station - accompanied by a hint of foreign magic - stirred him from his doze.

“Knock knock,” his own voice greeted him.

“who’s there?” he mumbled into his arms.

“Annie.”

“‘annie’ who?”

“Annie way you got time for a story?”

Sans lifted his head with a grin and Killer returned it. “sure do. but, uh, i don’t believe i got a chance to properly introduce myself.” He offered his hand, wiggling his fingers invitingly. “i’m sans, but you can call me aster.”

Killer huffed out an amused laugh. “Killer.” He grabbed Aster’s hand and their giggling was drowned out by the explosion of noise their colliding whoopee cushions made across the entirety of the moon.

[princesscandijane]

Chastity Tips by Candi Jane

These tips are coming from the perspective of a sissy(me😀), these things still help without the sissy element.

I have been hearing sissys keep saying that you want to do long term chastity, but are too weak. I am hearing about how you want to feel helplessly desperate and horny. But as you get too horny and before you reach helplessly desperate you grab the key, unlock your little clitty, and jerk off. Then you have to start the process all over. Ideally you would have a keyholder, someone that forces you to keep honest, but most of us are not fortunate enough to have one. So here are some things that may help. Notice how I always use the plural for keys? Chastity devices come with more than one key, so make sure you are keeping them all together😁

Mail your keys to yourself:

Pretty self explanatory, take a self-addressed envelope, put a stamp on it, seal your keys in the envelope and mail it away. This is a great one to get the keys completely out of your possession and away from you for a period of time.

Though I recommend at least using your real address so the keys get back to you 😜

Depending on how the mail runs in your area this could be a 2-5 day event, for the cost of an envelope and a forever stamp. If you mail it on Saturday night after pickup, the mail will not get picked up until as early as Monday, so that is an extra 36 hours. There are also holidays to consider in which the mail doesn’t run, so if you mailed your keys after pickup on Saturday of Labor Day weekend, the earliest the mail will pick up your keys will be Tuesday. By that point you will have already had almost 3 days of chastity, add that to how well the mail is in your area, you may end up in a week in chastity! That is not even mentioning mailing during the holiday season when the mail is at its busiest, at that point you may be hoping that the keys did not get lost in the mail 😬 Which is one downside to consider when mailing. How well do you trust your postal service? Sometimes things do get lost in the mail 🤷‍♀️

Freezing your keys:

This one does require you to have a fridge/freezer that you can use to freeze your keys. This one is a bit difficult to do if you share your fridge/freezer. Unlike mailing the keys to yourself, the keys will be with you, so there does require a little bit more restraint, but this can be a lot of fun. I had a lot of fun experimenting with this one, a proper sissy school girl doing proper sissy science 😚 So first and foremost don’t do what I did first and use a glass bottle. I first tried putting the keys in an old glass liquor bottle. That was a horrible idea

DO NOT USE A GLASS CONTAINER

As I learned, as water freezes it freezes from the outside in and expands which makes the frozen water less dense than the liquid water which is why ice floats. I also learned that it is a really strong force and will break the glass, as I learned when the bottle neck broke in my hand and crashed to the floor 😨 I was not injured😅

So next I used a plastic gallon jug, which has a couple of pluses. First and foremost it will not break into harmful pieces(at worst crack open), and second a gallon is more than twice as large of volume as the normal 1.75L that the large liquor bottle has (3.785 liters = 1 gallon) so it will take longer to defrost. Second mistake I made was dropping the keys in the bottom to freeze.

As everything melts from the outside in, this would be the first to defrost and makes the size of the container mostly obsolete. Solution: I tied the keys to a string, lowered it down until it was halfway in the container and taped the string to the jug.

Do not fill it to the top, remember water expands as it freezes so be sure to give it room. Freezing takes about 24 hours. I recommend checking in on it periodically, because ice freezes from the outside in and you will see your keys floating surrounded by its ice prison, and if needed you can add more water.

The first time I froze the keys in the gallon jug(keys at the bottom), I checked how long it took to defrost at 74F in the shade, and it took less than 8 hours. Those that are familiar with cooking meats, know that ideally you wouldn’t defrost at room temperature, but allow it to defrost in the refrigerator. After 24 hours of freezing I put the jug in the refrigerator. Following times are based on my fridge being set at the factory recommended coolness.

After a day the water on the outside has melted, so if my keys were at the bottom I would be able to pour them out at this point.

After 3 days the ice has defrosted enough in which I can now start to see the keys trapped in its frozen prison

Every day I see a bit more ice thawed, slowly and slowly seeing my keys becoming closer and closer to freedom

Finally after 7 days I see my keys floating freely in liquid water

Only one problem

The ice above is not thawed enough to let me pull the string out 😫 So I put it back in the fridge, and five hours later my keys were free!

From freezing to thawing was just over 8 days of chastity.

So the numbers I have for a gallon jug of water is: freezing - 1 day, thawing at 74F in shade ~ 8 hours, thawing in the fridge ~ 173 hours.

During this time you can start focusing on doing important things. At the longest it is 8 days, and that is plenty of time to accomplish things. Many sissys have maid fantasies, well use that time to clean your home, not just a little clean, but really deep clean your house(bonus if you have a uniform). Imagine your mistress/master will be inspecting it later. Ask yourself, “Would I want to serve someone that accepts this kind of work?” or “If I paid a couple hundred dollars for cleaning service, would I be satisfied?” whichever🙃 As you are locked up and cannot jerk off, you can start practicing on your blowjob and anal skills. Use this time to learn to deep throat, or work towards that ever elusive sissygasm. Set goals at the beginning of things that should be done by the time the keys are defrosted.

Because the keys take 8 hours to defrost at room temperature, certain tasks can equal x amount of time out of the fridge. Such as if you are practicing your deep throat skills, every time your nose touches the wall/floor equals five minutes out of the fridge. 8 hours would be roughly 100 times, or even for every second your nose to the wall/floor is five minutes. That gives over a minute and a half total of your throat being filled 😄 Cleaning your home can work in similar point systems too. Each chore is x amount of points, some may be more than others, as cleaning the bathroom takes a lot more than doing laundry(unless you are washing by hand). They don’t have to be sissy/sub tasks. You can make some of them for your better wellbeing. Such as, maybe you are someone that needs some motivation to get in shape. Have each mile jogged/walked/run can equal half an hour. Or can go simple and for the amount of time you spent working out is the amount of time spent out of the fridge. The plus side is you can work on your sissy figure and improve your regular quality of life 😁 These goals can really be for anything that you may need to work better on yourself, like reading more(yes I am talking to you), learn/practice a new language, learn/practice an instrument, even things that will help improve your career(insert your own examples lol). These are only a few examples. But make some tasks/goal(what needs to be accomplished) and rules(the rewards of completing a task and punishment for failing). Simple punishment is it goes back in the freezer. Remember to make sure your tasks/goals are realistic, and don’t try to tackle too many things at once. So often people get this huge motivation and think of all of these things they are going to do, but then when things aren’t working out the way they planned they give up. Schedules get made and when we can’t maintain them we give up. That is how those 10 dollar gyms are successful, their pay plan only works when the majority rarely/never show up. So if you set a really high goal that is unrealistic, say from never exploring anal to wanting to take Captain Ameica’s cock(see Chris Even’s cock) in that time period, maybe unrealstic. Or spending an hour a day working on your blowjob skills. Or the working out goal, you plan to run 2 miles every day, or every other day. That sounds great in theory, but if we fail to meet it we have a tendency to give up. You start out good for a day or two, then on day three you make an excuse on why you cannot and by day 5 you feel your goal is too far out of reach and give up. If that is the case, then adjust your goal and the tasks along with it, the first one may have been too ambitious. So if your goal/task is too difficult, instead of giving up on it, adjust it. Maybe I should be a Sissy Life Coach lol 🙃 Make the goals realistic, try to better yourself as either a sissy or even in your regular life. These are just some of my ideas on this.

I say this as doing this by yourself, but this is something that can be done in a keyholder relationship. And the keyholder can devise the tasks that serve them best.

Freewill:

Now freezing does take some freewill, there are plenty of ways to cheat, and get around things. It isn’t instant, but still freewill is required. Freewill doesn’t require you to freeze or mail or anything. So this last tip I have is: try to get better than the last time. I say this over and over, but remember baby steps. I did not go from buying my first chastity to 60+ 24/7 consecutive days. It took time and practice. I went an hour, then maybe two hours. If I got too horny or it got too painful, I would take it off. The next time I would try to go longer. My first attempt to sleep in chastity I gave up not even halfway through the night, it became too uncomfortable. I worked my way from there, now I prefer to sleep in chastity. So each time try to get better than the last, and if you fail, unlock and jerk off, or if you complete the time and are rewarded with unlocking yourself, well that’s a perfect time to work on becoming a cum eater 😛(again baby steps). If you always lose the urge after, then try to push yourself to at least bring some of it to your face, after that push yourself to taste just a little, and then go from there until you are eating it all 🤤 It may take some months but keep working at it😀

Have fun and drink cum ❤❤❤

[neo-culture-mafia]

puzzle piece (l.dh) + (n.jm)

“What do you mean by, ‘Don’t be pissed.’?! You decide to eat my ramen and fake your death for 2 years?!” This wasn’t real. Hyuck stood in front of one of his best friends, Na Jaemin. Or an alternative name, ‘Missing Dumbass’. “What can I say, I knew you would remember me if I left with something of yours.” Jae smiled with a shrug of his shoulders as he opened his friend’s fridge. 

“I mean. Duh. Welcome back and all but why is the first thing you properly greet, the ‘fridge’?” Hyuck asked as he walked over and tried closing the door that hid all of his treasure: food. “You literally just scolded me like a child and you’re mad at ME for not giving you a nice warm hug?!” Jaemin’s words bounced off of deaf ears. “and for your information, Donghyuck-ah...I’m hungry?” Jaemin looked puzzled as he started to raid the cabinets. “It’s 4 AM.” “I haven’t eaten yet.” Jaemin was now being chased by Hyuck around the small kitchen. 

Jaemin made a game as he opened a cabinet to have Hyuck close it right after. Another one. Another. Another. “Want me to be a mother? I will get my belt in a seco- put my spatula down!” 

~~

No one knew this was coming, honestly. Donghyuck had gotten comfortable in his onsie and already logged out of his games, getting ready for a nice long sleep. Then...banging.

“I swear to God, Renjun. If you make me check under your bed one more ti-” Then he was met face to face with...a face he once knew very well. A blue mop of hair laid on top of the boy’s head. A jersey thrown on top of a dark hoodie with baggy jeans and skate shoes. Definitely not what Hyuck imagined Jaemin looking like after going missing for 2 years. 

“Uh.” Hyuck stalled, the hall light dimmed for the rest of the world who was asleep. “You got food?” Jae pushed past him and directly to the kitchen, not even bothering to take his shoes off. “Bread or something?” “Hello?” Jaemin acted so normal in the most abnormal situation. 

“Where the hell have you been?” Hyuck looked at the time, 3:52 AM blinked on the oven. “The club. Sorry to worry you, Mom.” Jae started to get a pan out and filled it with water. “Where do you keep the noodles?” He started opening the cabinets and drawers restlessly. “I’m out...Going to pick up more later- Are you drunk?” “No. Do you have anything?” “Not really.” Jae just stood in the middle of the small kitchen to throw his head up to the ceiling and whine. 

“I can go run to the store if you need me to.” Hyuck grabbed his keys that laid on the counter top. “No, it’s fine. I’m fine.” “No you’re not. You show up with BLUE hair and you tell me, ‘I’m fine.’?” Hyuck stood with one hand on his hip, the other pointing to his taller friend. 

Jaemin just looked around. “And don’t forget how pissed I am about what you did before you decided to run off and be little mr. independent.” Donghyuck’s nagging had definitely developed after not hearing it for the past years. “Ew. You’re turning into me, stop.” “Well someone had to hold it together for the kids.” An eye roll was earned from Jaemin.

“Everyday Jaemin. I pay the bills, I do the grocery shopping, teaching my classes to come home to dishes overflowing from the sink and the chicken hasn’t been thawed...the rice hasn’t been washed. I drive Jisung to school-” “His classes are across the street from his apartment-” “Don’t patronize me.” Donghyuck slapped the top of his friend’s head, a finger pointed in the hungry boy’s face. 

“Don’t be pissed.” Jae pushed his friend’s finger out of his face. That was the last straw.

~~

“Which one?” Donghyuck asked as he watched Jaemin scan the options of instant meals from the 7-11 shelves. “Oooo. This one.” He picked up a nice-looking meal and automatically took off towards the ice cream. He grabbed an arm full as Hyuck could physically hear his wallet weep.

“Anything else?” He asked out of politeness. “Yeah. You get something.” Jaemin motioned to the whole store with a flick of his head. “No thanks. I’m not really in the mood to eat.” Hyuck shook his head as he walked closer to the check-out. The grumbling in his stomach made him bite his inner lip.

Jaemin let all of the merchandise fall onto the counter without a care as a candy bar was added to the top. “Is this all?” The cashier asked the man in the onsie with a wallet in the line of vision. Donghyuck nodded with a small sigh as he saw the total a couple dollars under his current life-savings. 

He didn’t think. Just swiped. 

Jaemin walked out happily munching on a random ice cream. “Are you sure you don't want one?” He asked as he held the bag up to his friend’s face. Hyuck could only shake his head no as they made the walk back to the apartment. 

“Thank you for paying.” Jaemin minded his manners and it fell onto deaf ears again. 

The rest of the walk was silent as the early morning air nipped at both of their cheeks. 

Jae made himself at home on the couch as Donghyuck locked the door. He walked in to see Jae with his feet up and TV remote in hand. “I’m going to get ready.” Hyuck sighed as he walked into his bedroom. 

He began changing when he heard the front door open. In panic, he raced out of the room to see if Jaemin was still here. He was, but now a shocked and semi-petrified Jisung stood in the entry way. 

“Jae-Jaemin?” Jisung asked and Jaemin looked over to see Hyuck too tired for any of this. “I’m the ghost of Jaemin.” Jae moved his hands in a weird way which had Jisung reeling towards him to pull his hair. 

“Ow.” “You are real!” Jisung shouted which made a shrill of pain go through Hyuck’s brain. 

“And I’m going to finish getting ready.” Donghyuck removed himself to finish preparing himself for the day. A fatigued headache made home in his head as he grabbed his glasses and empty wallet. 

“Can we go to 7-11 for breakfast?” Jisung asked and Hyuck wanted to scream. “I don’t think that’s an option for today, Jwi.” He patted the taller boy’s back. Jisung nodded and grabbed his bag. “Are you still going to be here when I get back?” The youngest boy’s eyes could make anyone cry but the question just hit a little too hard. 

“Uh.” Jaemin looked down to his lap. “Yeah.” His smile was faltering but it seemed somewhat genuine. Jisung didn’t know better and walked out of the door to go to school. Donghyuck followed but made sure to look at his close friend on the couch. 

“We want you back around. But, if you don’t think it’s time yet. The door is where you left it.” And with that, he was driving Jisung to school.

~~

“Today...” Donghyuck looked out into the eyes of his students. “I have to grade. So you are dismissed.” The students jumped up and ran out of the classroom in a cheer. The fact is that Hyuck hadn’t gotten sleep in 48 hours and he was sparking. He had settled down to TRY and grade but found himself slipping. 

He picked up his pen and started reading over the papers with ease. 

A

A

A

F

What were you thinking?

A

B

D

F

Do you even take my class?

B

B

B

C

“Donghyuck-ah.” Next thing you know, Hyuck actually woke up and looked down to see the papers un-graded. Taeyong and Mark stood before him and he quickly rose to his feet to bow. “I apologize for falling asleep.” “No matter to that now. We have a problem.” Mark spoke and Hyuck thought his heart skipped a beat. 

“Follow us.” 

He didn’t miss a beat as he followed his leaders down the hall of the academic buildings. Things were quiet...almost too quiet.

~~

He was just here...why did he leave again?

LEE DONGHYUCK - “Haechan” 35.1796° N, 129.0756° E MISSION TITLE:  Retrieval  POSITION: Shooter ; Post ; Retrieving Party

Jaemin had run off again. The Junior Forces felt different again. It only felt normal for a day then...hurting replaced the feeling of being complete once again. “I miss Jaemin.” Jisung muttered as he sat in-between Chenle and Hyuck. “We’re going to get him back. Don’t worry.” Chenle tried his best to comfort his friend. 

Yet, Hyuck was trying not to pass out in the seat. Tiredness turned into sickness. Hungry and cold as the glass holding his head up kept rattling. 

I didn’t mean for him to leave again

Mark pulled up to the coordinates and Donghyuck was the first to get out. It’s not that he cared the most...he felt like he was obligated to bring back his brother. It wasn’t the same without him.

Everyone was shocked to see that they were at cliffs that overlooked the sea. Just grass...grass...edge.

They all looked at each other before slowly stalking towards the side of the drop-off. They looked down to see Jaemin laying on a lower ledge. Hands under his head and his feet swinging to the beat of the music coming out of his phone. 

“Ja-” Jisung was cut off by Jeno throwing a hand over his mouth. “Don’t scare him off.” Jeno warned and the younger stayed quiet. Tear streaks illuminated Jaemin’s face as the sun was beginning to make way for the moon. 

“I got this.” Hyuck spoke and broke through the wall of boys; the gun being put back into the holster on his leg. He hopped back into the car and instructed Lele to drive to the nearest 7-11. 

In and out. Ramen and iced coffee. When he got back he saw the rest of the boys just silently lounging on the grass. Jisung was sleeping on Renjun’s legs as the sun was going down more. “Did he move?” Hyuck asked as Mark trailed by him. “No. But he was yelling a little while ago. Something about dying?” Mark questioned and Hyuck didn’t need to hear anymore.

[ suggestion : listen to And I’m here by Kim Kyung Hee or Puzzle Piece by Nct Dream while reading ] 

He didn’t waste time in jumping down the small cliff onto the next landing. Jaemin didn’t even acknowledge his brother as he stared into the sunset.

They both stared into the setting sky painted with vibrant colors of red and oranges. Hyuck sighed in relief as he finally sat down. He took Jae’s hand and put the cold coffee can into it. “They had your favorite.” Donghyuck bumped his elbow lightly. “And I got the ramen you like. It was on sale so I got you two.” Hyuck held both up in his hands. 

The sniffles brought his attention up to his blue-headed friend. The boys who looked over the edge were shocked at what happened next. Donghyuck threw his arms around his friend, bringing Jaemin’s head to his chest. The sobs broke all of their hearts and made Hyuck become misty-eyed himself. 

“We’re here for you. I promise.” Hyuck nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “We.” The first tear fell as he tried to take a deep breath. “We just want you safe. We want you home.” As both the boys were crying and holding one another, the others couldn’t help but getting choked up.

“I didn't mean to be away for so long. But I got- I got hurt and I didn't want to ask,” Jae sat up and tried to take a deep breath. “I didn’t wan-want to ask for help.” He caught sight of the boys who listened intently. “I wanted to pick up Jisung from school but-but I got up and hurt my back again and wanted to run away again.” He confessed as he looked to the sleepy Jisung who had tears in his eyes.

“And I’m still hurt. I don’t know why I came back-” “Hey. Enough of that.” Hyuck rubbed his friend’s back soothingly. “And I realized I drained your bank account when I came back. And I feel,” The sobs ceased for a deep breath, “horrible.” Hyuck brought him in for another hug. “I’m just glad you came home.” He reassured the boy in front of him. 

“We want you home. Even if you need another 2 years to recover, Jae. That’s okay.” Mark piped in and the boys hummed their understanding. “This. This isn’t healthy.” Renjun hopped down to the ledge where Hyuck and Jaemin sat. He took a seat on the other side of Jae and gave a sad smile.

“We’re not us when you’re not around. You’re like...” Renjun was at a loss for words. “Our missing puzzle piece.”  Jeno finished and everyone turned to him where his arm was strung around Chenle’s shoulders. 

“Please come home.” Lele added quietly and Jae thought for a moment. “...I...” He started but lost his words as quickly as they came. 

He faced towards the sunset again and folded his legs under him. He was never good with words and they all understood that. It was okay. 

He was okay.

“The sun is about to set.” He whispered and all the boys came onto the tiny cliff to surround their long lost friend in a warm huddle. Someone’s hand was rubbing Jae’s back lovingly, but no one knew who as the tangle of love wrapped them all up with each other.

Once the sun finally fell below the sea, they still sat there. “I’m ready to go home.” Jae choked and he was helped up and off of the cliff back to the car. Hyuck’s arm was thrown over the taller boy’s shoulder.

Jaemin got the window seat as they drove all the way back to Seoul. The rest of the boys dozed off into la-la land as Mark drove silently. Hyuck stayed awake to look over the group while Jaemin watched as the rain poured down on the windows. The city lights were streaked memories of being on the run. 

Donghyuck’s head started bobbing up and down halfway through the drive. He was losing his battle with staying awake for the rest of the trip. Jaemin took note as he guided Hyuck’s head to lay on his shoulder. 

“Thank you.” Was all that the boy could mutter. “And one more thing, Jae.” He took the strength he had left to look up at the boy. “If you ever kill yourself. I’m gonna kill you.” Jaemin looked confused as he made sure all of the other boys were sleeping. 

Jisung was curled up next to Chenle, Renjun was holding onto Jeno as they both snored softly. Jae looked back to Hyuck. “What are you talking about?” He asked and Hyuck was already half-asleep on his shoulder. 

“Mark said you were yelling on the cliff. Something about dying.” Hyuck said groggily taking out his phone and earbuds. “Oh. My phone died in the middle of my playlist.” Jae chuckled and had no time to react before an earbud was being shoved into his ear. 

“Good. ‘Cause I was gonna beat you up when I woke up.” Music was turned on and Hyuck curled up into Jaemin’s side one last time. 

Jae would make eye contact with Mark through the rearview mirror every now and again, flashing a smile that all the boys missed very much. 

Yet, Jae found himself being distracted with looking out the window every time he felt a rush or serenity. He hummed some of the songs before passing out against the window himself. 

They all slept feeling full and complete with one another.

They got their missing puzzle piece.

[general-mahamatra]

Spalbert being domestic? Love your writing!

Spalbert, eh? fuck yeah dude

i’ll admit... i went a bit overboard and its more like “cooking with albert with some added heated making out” but what can i say? i couldnt stop myself

Pairing: Spalbert

Genre: Slice of Life

TW: Suggestive/Mildly Graphic NSFW

Wordcount: 3862

Note: I went overboard please send help. Also, sorry I can’t shorten it! Tumblr hates to work with me when I make these posts and edit them

Cooking dinner was not a common occurrence in the small Conlon-DaSilva apartment. It was rarer than the sight of them doing anything romantic in general.

But their one year anniversary was coming up and Albert wanted to do something special.

He stood in the doorway of the tiny kitchen, hands clasped together just under his chin. He had no idea what he was doing. Despite his years of friendship with Racer, all of the knowledge Albert had gained fell through. The guy barely retained information; he was lucky if he could remember what happened the day before. Hell, he didn’t even know what he had for breakfast that morning.

...did he eat breakfast?

Albert wasn’t too sure about that. His mind drew a blank the harder he thought, only resulting in a minor headache to begin his descent into misery. This wasn’t going to go well, was it?

His eyes slipped shut as he took a deep breath. Slowly, he exhaled, allowing the air to seep out at its own pace.

He can do this. He has the ingredients. He just needs to be careful with instructions and find the recipe Race had given him months ago. It shouldn’t be too hard.

Opening his eyes, Albert let his hands fall to his sides. 

Spot’s not gonna be home for another hour at least. That left plenty of time for Albert to figure out how he was going to do this. After all, last he checked pasta doesn’t take that long to make. Not even the recipe he swore Race sent him. 

Stepping into the kitchen, the ginger was slow. Taking his time to cross the wooden floor. He winced at the cold that rushed against his bare feet. How the hell could wood be so much colder than carpet?

Wait, that’s a stupid question. One of the stupidest Albert ever wondered.

Of course the wood is gonna be colder, it’s not made to be warm.

He padded across the kitchen, eventually making his way to the barely-cleared counter. Neither of them were ones to cook. While there were plenty of different things in the fridge and their cabinets, the most they did at home was make sandwiches. Hell, Albert’s rarely seen Spot eat anything but a sandwich of some sort at home.

Albeit, they would go out a lot. It was the perks of Spot being a personal trainer and Albert working as an electrician… in training. They made enough to support themselves and go out and spend some money for fun. Not a lot, of course. Spot was much more minimalist than Albert, leading to them barely having a stocked fridge.

Albert didn’t mind that. Although he grew up with a decent amount of food in the house, it was nice not to worry about stuff constantly going bad. Christ, they had an entire empty shelf in the door just because they barely had anything.

Except it made it hard for Albert to hide the stuff he bought.

Thankfully, Spot never commented on it.

Not that Albert cared too much. He would’ve brushed it off as wanting to try something new sometime and that’s that. Not like they started dating a year ago and he wanted to make something nice for the guy. Just a simple experiment.

He leaned against the counter with a small huff. If he was going to get anything done, he would have to find the recipe. And by God would that take a long time.

Pulling his phone out of the pocket of his sweatpants, Albert went ahead and pulled up his text messages with Race. It was nice how they never actually texted “normally”. Majority of their conversations were on Snapchat. That meant whenever they sent each other important things, it wouldn’t be lost to chat history.

Of course, that didn’t mean they never sent each other things via text. Even now, it was clear the link Race had sent was drowned out by way too many messages.

It took ages for Albert to scroll through everything. How much time had actually passed was beyond him. It was likely it was maybe a minute or two but to him it felt like way  more. It was stupid, so stupid. Why didn’t he just click the link to save it like a normal person?

Because he’s an idiot, that’s why.

Finally. Finally, he found it. 

He clicked on the link, selecting the option to force it to pull up in Safari.

He’s not gonna lose it and be forced to scroll again. He refused.

By the time he had the link fully pulled up, Albert turned around, setting the phone on the counter. His eyes scanned over the words, a small frown setting into his features. This was far too much work just to make a simple thing of noodles.

Work that would be worth it in the end.

But dear God, there was so much stupid writing in the beginning. There were some helpful tips, yeah, but why did there have to be so much extra stuff? He’ll never understand the world of cooking.

With the page pulled up, Albert moved to the fridge and cabinet respectful, grabbing what he needed to make it. Noodles, vegetables, tomato paste… far too much shit.

Why did he follow through on actually making the sauce from scratch?

This was going to be a shit show.

A shit show that better be worth it in the end.

Albert tapped the screen when he realized it went dark so he could continue reading. Approximately 45 minute cook time, 6 servings. Yeah, that should be fine. They both ate a decent amount and it could be used for leftovers.

Though…

His eyes trailed over to where he had some ground beef thawing from earlier.

He wasn’t sure if he actually wanted to add any meat to it. As much as he knew Spot liked red meats, Albert himself was pescatarian. Which meant he only ate fish. Sometimes he would cave and begrudgingly eat hotdogs or cheeseburgers, but that was only if they were stuck at some sort of arena event.

But he didn’t wanna take that away from Spot. After all, he was prepping the entire meal for him. It shouldn’t matter what Albert liked. He could deal with some beef in the pasta for the sake of his boyfriend.

So, Albert continued on as normal.

He scrolled past the ingredients, already knowing he had everything. The sooner he started the sauce, the better off he would be.

What sucked was the fact he would have to begin immediately with the meat.

Pulling out a decent-sized pot, Albert set it on the stove. It felt a bit weird having to cook meat in it, but he was just following the recipe. It was just going to be awkward for a while.

Taking the bottle of olive oil, he measured out the allotted amount and dumped it into the pot. Then, with a swift motion, he turned the burner on to the designated heat. 

When he went to grab the thawed meat, he paused.

This was the moment where it was all or nothing. As soon as he started cooking the meat, he would have to deal with it for the rest of the meal.

He grabbed a steak knife out of the holder before picking up the package. With a simple swipe, the plastic was sliced open. Setting the blade down, Albert pulled the packaging open.

There was no turning back now.

He carefully dumped the ground beef into the pot before setting the empty plastic to the side. Grabbing a wooden spoon, he looked back at his phone. Upon reading ahead, he was so glad he precut everything. He would’ve dropped dead right then and there if he had to chop anything now.

As the eight minutes passed by, Albert continued to follow the instructions. Soon enough, he was adding the onions before letting it simmer.

Idly, he stirred the pot from time to time. His eyes were mostly glued on his phone, scrolling through TikTok like his life depended on it. It was a nice way to pass the time.

By the time Albert was on the final step with the sauce, he had calmed down a bit. Not that he was too antsy, he was just… nervous. He wanted this to be perfect. The two weren’t able to go out anywhere fancy since apparently a lot of people have anniversaries in June. Either that or people were a bit too eager to go out to eat during the sixth month of the year.

After adding in the tomato paste and garlic and a select few other ingredients, he made care to stir it for almost exactly a minute. It wasn’t too hard given the next video he watched was just barely 50 seconds, so there was a plus there.

Jumping back to the recipe, Albert scanned over the next step before setting the phone down, screen up. He needed to add water, some crushed tomatoes, salt, and a “generous pinch” of pepper. Then all he had to do was stir it and let it simmer on low for 25 minutes. Not too bad.

With a quick glance ahead, Albert took note he had to start cooking the pasta itself 10 minutes in. Alright.

He followed the instructions, scraping the meat and veggies off the bottom of the pan before officially letting it simmer. With a quick set of the timer, Albert turned his attention back to his phone. 

Opening YouTube, it didn’t take long for him to find a 7 minute video.

He stood there, hunched over the counter with his elbows propped up on the stone. Occasionally, he would move back to the stove to stir the sauce. Of course, he didn’t pay too much attention.

When the video finished, Albert jumped into action with the pasta. There was 17 minutes left on the timer, meaning he had a couple minutes to spare. Maybe then he could figure out how much salt he’s supposed to put in the damn water.

In the end it wasn’t too hard to gauge. He just dumped a decent amount into the half-full pot and set it on the burner diagonal from the sauce. Turning the handle away from the main walkway, Albert turned the dial to let it boil and stepped back. It wasn’t going too bad.

Turning back to the sauce, he picked up the wooden spoon and stood there for a moment. The website had mentioned that he should taste it from time to time, make sure it was properly seasoned.

But the stuff was hot, he didn’t wanna burn his tongue.

He pursed his lips, staring at the red sauce as it continued to simmer on the hot burner. A small taste wouldn’t hurt. After all, he can just blow on it and be on with his life. He just didn’t want to have to suffer through dinner with a burnt tongue, unable to taste what he made.

Albert dipped the spoon into the pot, scooping a small amount of the pasta sauce.

With one simple taste, he was surprised to find it didn’t taste half bad. He did pretty good for his first try.

Now that he was content, Albert went back to watching YouTube. 

It wasn’t long before the water was boiling and he had to grab the noodles. 

With the box in his hands, Albert read over the directions on the side to get a good grasp of how long to cook the pasta. The label stated 10 minutes, which meant he would have to start testing it at about 8 minutes. That wouldn’t be too hard.

He opened the box and dumped the noodles out. It felt oddly surreal seeing the long noodles stick straight out of the pan. As much as he had seen spaghetti cooked in videos and on TV, he had never actually witnessed the process.

It was at that moment anxiety decided to hit him like a truck. Full on, straight into his chest. It was almost like a physical force had knocked him into an altered form of reality. Suddenly he was hyperaware; his clothing rubbed wrong against his skin, he heard every noise in the apartment along with the sizzling of the sauce and faint blabbering of the video. Everything was shoved full force into his senses.

Albert stood there, box in hand as he tried to process it all. 

His heart pounded against his ribs, ramming against it as if it were trying to break free. At the same time, a shiver coursed through his body, adding to the bizarre sense of consciousness.

His racing heart was what made his thoughts move a mile a minute.

What if Spot doesn’t like it? What if he came home with some fast food takeout like a normal day and it was all in vain? Does Spot even like pasta?

Fuck, is Spot allergic to pasta?

God. Shit. Fuck. He forgot to check what Spot was allergic to. What if he grabbed something and used it and Spot broke out into hives? God, that would be the worst anniversary ever.

A small whimper made itself heard and Albert was thankful he was alone. It was a pathetic sound, one of worry and panic that he never allowed the public to hear.

He finally set the box down, his vision blurred and unfocused as he stared at the cooking food. It’s going to be fine, it’s all going to be fine. Spot’s his boyfriend, he would know if the guy was allergic to something. 

But… What if Spot lied? Or… What if he doesn’t like the meal?

He didn’t put it beyond Spot -- or anyone for that matter -- to pretend to like the food and just order something later in the night. Anyone with a sense of decency would wait until Albert had long since fallen asleep.

Albert closed his eyes, taking a shaky deep breath through his nose.

Everything’s gonna be alright.

Nothing will go wrong.

Albert peeked one of his eyes open to glance down at the cabinet next to him. Quickly, as if he were worried about embarrassing himself, he knocked on the wood.

By the time he managed to get himself to settle down, the noodles were nearly done. It was a bit odd knowing he had spaced off for almost 10 minutes, but it happened nonetheless. He just hoped the stuff didn’t need to be stirred too much.

Following the rest of the cooking instructions, he ended off with strained pasta being tossed into the pot of sauce. With a quick stir, Albert stepped back and sighed. It was basically done. He did it.

A small smile tugged at his lips only to be whisked away.

There’s still so many possibilities of him fucking this over.

He could spill the sauce, overcook it as he waited for Spot, forget to dress up nice… but he had plenty of time. There was at least 15 minutes before his boyfriend was home.

Albert rested his arms on the counter, allowing his head to lul forward as he shut his eyes. It was almost 7 P.M., it was barely evening. At this point on a normal day he would’ve been wide awake playing video games or watching videos. Hell, maybe he’d even be harassing Spot, who knows.

But this isn’t a normal day, it’s their fucking anniversary. And now he’s exhausted for no fucking reason.

How much worse could it possibly get?

He pressed one of his hands to his face, letting out an exasperated sigh. He stayed like that for a while, ignoring the blaring time on the stove. He knew better than to assume he’d be in a position like that for much longer than a minute.

The light click of the front door closing went unnoticed by Albert. Despite how aware he had been earlier, suddenly he was ignorant. Everything that went on around him was ignored, purposely or not. His fatigue was enough to keep him bent over the counter, his eyes shut and head resting in his hand for support.

He didn’t notice the rustling just outside the kitchen or the heavy footsteps that followed. Hell, he barely even realized there was a presence nearby before a strong pair of hands settled on his hips.

“Well, isn’t this a surprise?”

Albert practically jumped out of his skin. He tried to spin around but only ended up knocking his hand against the knife holder. He hissed out a few colorful words and in the end, didn’t turn.

His boyfriend’s arms slid around his waist, allowing the familiar feeling of the shorter man being pressed against him be made known.

“Didn’t think I’d ever see you in the kitchen,” Spot teased, resting his chin on Albert’s shoulder.

The simple, solid touch instantly made Albert relax. Tension he didn’t even realize he still had faded away and left him loose against his boyfriend. It was nice.

“Well, jokes on you, here I am,” Albert said back, smiling slightly. He tilted his head a bit as he tried to look at the brunette. 

A small hum came from the shorter man, the vibrations sending a shiver down Albert’s spine. “And what brings you here?”

That was when the panic returned.

Every inch of Albert tensed up, his attention darting over to the spaghetti. Fuck, he didn’t even prepare it. It’s still in the pot and he hasn’t even gotten dressed.

As if he noticed the tension, Spot gently caressed his thumb along Albert’s side. “Hey, it’s fine. You good?”

Albert tore his gaze away from the food and forced a small smile. “Yeah, I am.” Once again, he managed to relax. The feeling of Spot trying to offer physical comfort being enough to loosen him up. Though, it didn’t necessarily take off the edge.

What did was the sly movement of hands reaching up his shirt, running along his skin until they were on his lower back. The feeling of calloused fingers barely grazing his body made his breath hitch. He bit his lower lip, forcing himself to focus on that instead.

It wasn’t a surprise that Spot knew just what to do to get Albert’s mind off of things. The way the brunette moved along his body was distracting enough. It was even more to have the man reach up higher, almost as if he were exploring.

Except, is it even exploring if it’s already known?

“If you say so,” Spot said with yet another hum before leaning in.

A soft kiss pressed against Albert’s neck, causing his eyes to flutter shut. It was a pleasant feeling, one that spread warmth throughout his body. The warmth gradually grew fiery as the kissing continued. They were rougher than the initial one, eliciting a slight reaction from the ginger.

He tilted his head, hoping to allow the man more access. Despite it being from behind, Albert was mildly surprised the reach the brunette had.

It was always difficult for him to think about how exactly any of this was possible.

The rough hands that still held his body slid down to his hips and held tight. For a short moment, Spot pulled away just enough to spin the taller boy around. The movement was enough for Albert to glance down, offering a smile.

Said smile was immediately cut off by lips crashing into his. Once again, Spot was pressed up against him, pinning him against the counter.

Instead of returning to his upper body, Spot slipped his fingers just below the waistband. His thumbs pressed low, just enough to get Albert to try and squirm. It wasn’t unwelcome. In fact, it was far from it. It just happened to be foreign yet again.

It was hard to focus on the chapped lips that moved so perfectly against his own, not with the small pokes and prods from Spot. There was so much going on at once that Albert didn’t know what to pay attention to or when.

Spot’s kisses trailed away from Albert’s mouth, pressing against his jaw as he slowly made his way to the ginger’s neck. Each one made him shiver, sending a shock down to the rest of his body.

Without the constant action, Albert was free to let his lips part as he basked in the moment. It all felt so wonderful, so… nice. He didn’t want it to end and he wanted more.

It was the first nip along his throat that extracted a quiet squeak from the taller man. The rush that ran through him at that very second nearly made Albert go limp. He hadn’t realized how deprived he’d been until then. And by God, was it amazing.

Spot’s hands dipped further, causing Albert to let out one of the most pathetic noises he’d ever made.

It was almost hilarious considering just how tough he likes to make himself seem. All stoic and angry and yet Spot always managed to do the perfect thing.

He could practically feel the smirk against his neck, making his cheeks heat up way more than necessary. Of course Spot would be cocky about it.

Any thought Albert had was cut off by the abrupt feeling of being groped. He hadn’t even realized the shorter man had moved one of his hands. With his focus on the bites, any other action had gone unnoticed.

A stifled moan slipped out of his mouth.

God, this was far better than the spaghetti.

The pleasurable heat that emanated from his groin was enough to let Albert forget about the food. If he could just get Spot to do more-

Wait.

The spaghetti.

Albert’s eyes shot open and he scrambled to push Spot away. The brunette backed off as some as Albert began to push, knowing better than to try and continue. He frowned at the ginger, his brows furrowed with confusion and worry.

“You alright?”

Albert nodded, shifting a bit as he tried to regain any composure he had prior. “Yeah, don’t worry.” He spun around, stumbling a bit as he scrambled to turn the burner off. He didn’t need the pasta overcooking. 

Sheepishly, he turned back to Spot. “I just… I didn’t want to keep it on too long.” Spot tilted his head at the comment. “I wanted to cook something for tonight and I didn’t want it to be overdone.” Albert bit the inside of his cheek for a moment before continuing. “I’ve never done this before. Cooking, that is, obviously.”

Realization washed over Spot’s features as the shorter man smiled up at him. That smile shifted into a grin within seconds when his eyes fell onto the pot. “Then let’s eat. We can continue later.”

Albert would’ve been perfectly fine if Spot didn’t wink right after that.

The sheer action nearly kicked his knees out from under him.

“Yeah,” Albert managed to say, swallowing as he tried to form words. “Later. Definitely. Yes.”

Spot smirked at the reaction, a bit too pleased with it in Albert’s eyes.

Maybe it would be a great anniversary after all. 

[bird-in-a-cage]

I REALLY enjoyed your last one, so I'd love to see what you would do with 47. for the prompt list!

So, I had a couple ideas for this prompt but I guess I can’t write happy things no matter how hard I try. 

Prompt list is here. Give me one! Doing these is super fun! Also on ao3, link in notes

#47: “Hold my hand until it’s over?”

Sunflower 

The room was white and sterile. It had that clawing smell of disinfectant that permeated everything. Naturally so of course. There was a generic painting of a meadow across the wall above the bed. A large window took up most of the outer facing wall, striped with pale cream blinds that blocked out the sun, only allowing it to trickle through the gaps and create long lines across the tiled floor, streaking across everything in their path. Steve rolled his hand in the sunbeam. The one attached to the arm not currently filled with needles, thin plastic tubes and wiring, hooking him up to a small white machine to the left of the plush plastic chair he was sat on. Billy took up a far less comfortable chair next to him. Both wore dark circles of exhaustion under their eyes.

It had been both a long and incredibly quick week.

One moment everything was normal. Winter was starting to turn into spring. The thaw in the ground was starting to melt away, grass peeking through what was left of the snow. Single sweatshirt weather. Steve had suffered from a bad cold all winter, it was just something he couldn’t shake despite how many scarves and extra layers he wrapped himself in, how many gallons of chicken soup he consumed. They both thought it was just that, just a cold. Maybe pneumonia at most, but even then that was a crazy exaggeration. Steve was fit and healthy. But then Steve had passed out in the street running errands while Billy was at work, struggling to breathe. The same small rasps he wheezed sitting in the sterile chair. A passing stranger had called an ambulance. 

He had been kept in overnight. Miles of tests were performed. 

It wasn’t just a cold.

Stage two lung cancer.

After that, time had stopped, but continued to spin at a rapid pace. Endless meetings with doctors, all of them spouting long words neither Billy nor Steve could understand, explaining different courses of action possible to take, roughly how long it would last. Survival rates. Billy tried to pay attention, he really did, but all he could notice was Steve, facing towards the window in every room they were put into and the gentle sunlight just beyond his grasp.

Steve had to call his parents. Neither he or Billy had the health insurance to cover what Steve needed to get better and no amount of overtime or second and third jobs Billy could take would fix it. That night in itself had been long. Steve stood in their small shared kitchen, leaning against the wall next to the fridge where the phone was, twirling the avocado green cord around his fingers, just listening to his parents talk. Berate more like. Billy had held him the entire time, his bigger arms around Steve’s smaller frame, hand cupped on his chest under a stolen Nirvana t-shirt right where they had both seen the black spot of a tumor on the x-ray sheet, as if just wishful thinking would make this all go away and get them back to normal. They’d been planning a summer vacation the week previous. Maybe Italy. Pretend they gave a shit about art and architecture and that it wasn’t just going to be a week of eating all the gelato they could get their hands on. 

Steve wore that same shirt in the chair, said it was his favourite the second Billy had stretched it out just enough to steal.

Billy tried to be positive. The Harrington family health care plan was pretty lucrative. It afforded them a private room at least, no one asking any questions as to why Billy was there when he wasn’t family. Billy knew he was the devil to both of them, stealing away their innocent son and turning him queer. They hadn’t been shy in telling him so in their one and only conversation back in the late 80s. 

Steve’s fingers flexed on the arm of the chair, trying to touch sunlight. They both knew this was going to be a long road even if just the chemo was successful, but there was no guarantee of even that. They’d both been warned of side effects, been given long spewing pamphlets of terrible news and consequences. Weight loss, fatigue, loss of appetite, loss of sex drive, nausa, sores, nerve problems, infection, hair loss. Billy had read through each one over and over, forcing information into his head that would help in the near future. Steve had chosen to ignore them.

A doctor came into the room to start the procedure. It would be a few hours so they’d best be comfortable. Steve didn’t move. Didn’t look as different bags were hooked up and the machine was turned on. Eyes closed in defiance as to what was happening to one side of his body started. Billy could only watch helplessly, gently stroke Steve’s bare arm, trying to be supportive as he could, whispering empty promises that it would all be okay, everything would be okay.

33% is a lot to gamble everything on.

Only when the doctor left the room, left them both alone in gentle streams of sunlight, did Steve open his eyes again, deep chocolate pools threatening to flood over for the first time since the diagnosis.

“Hold my hand until it’s over?”

Billy didn’t need to be asked twice

[islareeveswriting]

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Normality is underrated.

It sounded boring, but Molly revelled in the days when nothing extraordinary happened. When she could get out of bed in the morning, tick the things off her to do list that needed doing, have dinner, and get back into bed without anything taking her breath away, or taking her by surprise, or shaking her upside down. She didn’t take anything for granted, even a subpar cup of tea in the morning, and she found joy in every tiny thing she could, every perfect stitch, and even the ones that were a little off. Molly had always strived for perfection in every little detail of her life, but nothing was perfect, and perfection was overrated.

Steadily she was getting things back to normal, it was taking its time, and she was continually reminding herself that it was going to be a marathon not a sprint, but everyday that passed she felt a little more like herself. A changed version of herself, slightly altered for the hits she’d taken, but herself nonetheless. It felt good to be getting back into the swing of things. University was taking priority, the way it always had, and the way Molly knew it should. She hadn’t put in all the work and time to let a good grade slip out of her clutches at the last minute. And things with Harry were going slowly, but steadily, the way she wanted them to.

They were taking it the way they should have done originally, at a pace that truly suited them. It was only when they started to truly take things slowly, day by day, one step at a time, that they realised quite how much they’d rushed through. They weren’t living in each others pockets only messaging through the day as and when they could, calling in the evening after dinner for a chat, and seeing each other a couple of times a week. It felt right to take a step back and ease back into one another, picking themselves back up from the wreckage and trying to figure out how they’d fitted together, slowly. Molly knew she wanted to be with Harry, but she wanted to take her time with him this time, and if Harry wanted it any other way, he was at least doing a good job of pretending he didn’t and letting Molly go at her pace.

Outside looking in, it probably seemed like a strange time to want to take it slow, now they knew so much, now the walls had crashed down so hard and left them so bare and exposed. Inside, between them, it made perfect sense. So much had happened in the past months that it had left them struggling for air, drowning under it all, and though she knew she wanted to be with Harry, and wanted him back, she still had to wade through everything that had happened and make sense of it. It was a lot easier to do it with him, than without him, and apart from that, she wanted to do it with him, despite what certain people had said.

Jimmy hadn’t been favourable of Harry walking back through the door with Molly at first. He’d sat by her side, held her hand, tried to make her feel better and more like herself because of him. He’d been the one she’d collapsed into after she left Harry’s flat, a mess of tears and anger and hurt. And the person that had caused it just walked back through his front door. He’d fumed, shouted, and Molly had to calm him down, remind him it was her choice, and she’d chosen to give Harry a second chance. She could understand the reaction, and Harry said he did too, and Molly was sure Jimmy would come round.

She was still sure he would, but everytime Harry came round Jimmy rolled his eyes and disappeared out or to his bedroom. It wasn’t just her Harry had to prove himself to, but it was only her who seemed sure that he would.

“What you thinking about?” Harry asked, as they sat at another set of traffic lights. Molly was pulling at a thread hanging from her denim shorts. They were the same pair she’d been given when she got the job at Coyote. There was a small pink stain on the pocket from a drink that had spilled on her at some point, but she had no intention of getting another pair.

“Just Jim,” Molly admitted quietly, twisting to look at Harry, his own eyes fully focused on the traffic lights, waiting for them to change from red to green.

“Lol, if this is causing issues with you and you friends, maybe-”

“No, it’s only him, everyone else is fine, so he can learn to be fine,” Molly cut in. It was beginning to frustrate her how adamant Jimmy was being with his distaste for Harry, he wasn’t even being civil and that wasn’t like Jimmy. Molly could understand it wasn’t easy to watch your friend let someone who had hurt them so much back in, she could bet she’d find it hard if it was the other way round. But Molly knew what she wanted, and knew what was best for her own happiness, and Jimmy had to realise that. “I want to be with you, it’s got nothing to do with him,” Molly told Harry as they pulled away from the lights.

“Maybe I should try talking to him, I don’t know, I like him, I’d like him to like me,” Harry sighed heavily with that. The repercussions of him lying were still reverberating around him. Shane was still being frosty, though he was talking to Harry again so that was something. But Harry’s regret wasn’t thawing quite so easily.

“You can try,” Molly shrugged. “I’d like it if you could get on again,” Molly admitted with half a smile. “He will come round, he’ll see it was all just a stupid mistake and you’re not a bad person,” Molly assured, and she believed it. For all Harry had done, she knew none of it came from a place of malice. That didn’t make it ok, but at least it meant she could believe Harry when he said he was sorry.

Harry turned down the alleyway beside Coyote and Molly looked out of her window at it. In a weird way she’d missed the place. It had been a while since her last shift, and she could feel another little bit of her normal slotting into place.

“So you’ll text me when you’re leaving and I’ll see you at mine yeah?” Harry asked again, for about the fifth time. Molly could bet he was waiting for her to give in and say he could pick her up after her shift, but she wasn’t going to. Until Harry she’d walked home from every shift she’d ever done, it was part of her normal and she liked it. The calm after the storm. The start of winding down after work. They’d compromised, he dropped her off, and he let her walk home. She’d text to say she was leaving, and that was it. He’d see her when she got to his for dinner and a movie. Molly could tell Harry wasn’t sure, it made him anxious, and she didn’t hold that against him, but she couldn’t keep giving into him and all the little habits he’d learned that kept him living in that dark place. If she let him pick her up, it fed the part of his mind that worried something would happen if he didn’t.

“Yep,” Molly smiled, trying to keep it light. “Have a nice evening,” She grinned, leaning over the centre of the car and kissing his lips. His hand quickly moved to hold her face though, deepening the kiss just a little.

“Be careful,” Harry warned quietly, and Molly just nodded, looking into his worried eyes.

“I’ll be fine,” Molly pointed out, still grinning wildly. “Always am,” She added, and even Harry’s lips twitched a little at that, before she slid out of the car and headed for the door, not hearing how Harry mumbled that, that was what worried him.

When Molly had called Liam to tell her she’d need to cancel her next few shifts, she’d explained why, not able to keep it back. It had been fresh. The morning after Clive had died, the wound still very much raw and untreated, so it spilled out of her quite easily, nothing in place to stem the flow of grief at that point. Liam had understood, told her to take as long as she needed, and she’d taken two weeks. Probably just one would have been enough, but she decided to take a week to focus on getting back into uni work, catch up on anything she’d missed and make sure she was nothing but prepared for the final month of her second year.

Heading back into the bar though, it felt good to be back, the sound of her heels clipping on the plastic floor, the music from the jukebox blaring, and the lights already dimmed despite the fact it was only four thirty. It was a Saturday, the one day a week the bar opened at lunchtime, and stayed open until gone midnight. Liam had offered Molly the shift affectionately known as the friendly one. Four thirty through til nine. The quiet hours. People shuffled out to prepare for the evening around four, and the busy period didn’t really kick in until gone nine on a Saturday. It was the perfect shift to ease her back into Coyote after two weeks away.

There were a few tables being used, a bunch of people occupying a booth, but other than that no one. Molly would occupy her time cleaning up, making sure as many glasses as possible were clean and the fridges were well stocked prior to people beginning to flood back in. It wasn’t the most fun shift in the world, and it tended to drag, but Molly was just glad to be back. It was the final thing in her repertoire.

“Excuse me love.” Molly glanced over her shoulder, trying to ignore the shiver up her back at the over friendly pet name. No one had called her that in a long time, and she wished no one would. At least people she didn’t know. Molly just smiled at the man on the other side of the bar, jet black hair slicked back and piercing blue eyes that even under the dim lights seemed almost bleached of colour. One side of his mouth lifted, showing off a few bright white sparkling teeth as Molly wiped her hands on her shorts, damp from the condensation of the cold bottles she’d been stacking into the fridge.

“What can I get you?” Molly asked, when the man said nothing. She hadn’t noticed him when she’d walked through to the bar from the back, and she was sure she would have done considering how empty it was. A quick glance around the room confirmed she remembered seeing everyone else dotted around the place when she’d arrived.

“What would you suggest?” The man asked, and it took Molly a little by surprise. There was something about the way he looked at Molly that made her skin feel like it was crawling, like little spiders were creeping up her spine and over her arms, making the hair there stand on end. It was like he was looking right through her, or at least right through her clothes. She never really felt exposed, even in the short, shorts and tied up top she wore on a Saturday, but under his eyes she felt like everything was on show.

“Erm,” Molly started, stumbling a little. She swallowed on nothing, twisting her head to look at the neatly stocked fridge. “You drink beer?” She asked, not looking back at him, only because she swore she felt his eyes stuck to the back of her, piercing into her neck.

“Am I making you nervous?” He asked, under his breath, as if there was anyone to overhear.

“I’m sorry?” Molly sneered, looking back then. The man just chuckled, darkly, threateningly. If the bar wasn’t between them, Molly would have been frightened, as it were, she tried to carry on convincing herself she was in control. The bar was her ground and she held it.

“That would be a yes then, or,” He stopped then, looked at Molly, up and down, slowly, smirking evilly once he had her eyes again. “Do I scare you?”

“No, you don’t, now what can I get you?” Molly asked with a sigh. “A one way ticket to the door is free of charge? Or a beer is three fifty,” Molly told him and she watched his nostrils flare, fists curling until his knuckles turned white. “You need to relax sir,” Molly advised strongly, trying to ignore the hammering of her heart inside her ribs.

“Just a beer,” The man told her, and Molly nodded, turning to the fridge. “I want your name,” Molly heard him say.

“You aren’t getting it,” Molly called back as she pulled the bottle top off with the opener on the side. “Three fifty,” Molly told him, extending one hand towards him once the bottle was on the side, the other resting on her hip. Molly watched as he reached into his pocket for money, waiting patiently and tilting her head a little. Difficult customers were regular, and she was telling herself that was all he was, just a difficult customer that had probably had one too many somewhere else and didn’t know how to bite his tongue. She felt the way she did, not because of him, or the way he looked at her, or the sandpapery sound of his voice, of the stench of cigarettes and cannabis on him, or just the general vibe he was giving off, but because she’d forgotten the way some people sometimes spoke to bar staff when beer had given them a confidence they didn’t know how to handle.

The man pulled his hand out of his pocket, and Molly stretched hers forward a little for him. Very quickly she wished she hadn’t though, as he slapped a note into her hand so hard her knuckles rapped against the wood of the bar, before she had a second to react his hand was around her wrist and pulling her fiercely towards him. Her hip hit one of the beer trays, and her ribs jammed into the bar, almost knocking the wind out of her. He leered across the bar at her, Molly wanted to look away, look for Liam who she hoped was around somewhere. Kacey was outback, doing a stock take, tidying the staff room, keeping herself busy while Molly manned the bar, until the six o clock shift clocked in and Kacey could leave. Molly was alone, and she really felt it as his icy blue eyes stared into hers.

“Don’t need your name love, that pretty red hair is name tag enough, talk to me like that again and I’ll rip it from your head,” He sneered, Molly’s nostrils twitched and she was biting her jaw tight, teeth crunching into one another as she fought the need to cry.

“I ca-”

“Get me kicked out, that’s fine, go ahead, I think you’d rather know exactly where I am though.” His eyes narrowed with that, and slowly his mouth cracked into a smile, before he was laughing. “I’m joking love don’t look so worried,” He chuckled, letting go of her hand, but Molly felt the way her ribs were already bruising and the way her knuckles stung. “Keep the change, spend it on yourself, buy something pretty to go with that pretty hair, or maybe just a sense of humour.” Molly didn’t say anything, just took the note and put all ten pounds of it in the til, not taking anything out for herself before she slipped out the back door, and called for Kacey to take the bar for a minute, practically skipping to the toilet, less anyone see the amount of colour that had drained from her cheeks.

There was no windows in the bathroom, and Molly was breathing heavily against the feeling of being trapped. Quickly Molly locked herself in one of the cubicles as nausea rose up inside her. Her stomach hurt as it tensed and she emptied her stomach of everything she’d ingested that day, doubled over the toilet, hands gripping the seat. Tears streamed down her face, but only from how much she was retching on nothing, her stomach empty, but the disgust inside her still drowning everything else out. Finally the vomiting stopped, and she caught her breath, noticing the red of her knuckles and the discolouration of her wrist. Molly swallowed back and slowly stood straight, wiping her mouth with her other hand, still staring at the skin that was beginning to bruise. That couldn’t be hidden. Molly glanced down to her ribs, the way her t-shirt was tied made it easy to see and she let out a long and shaky breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding. Quickly she untied it, tucked it into her shorts and covered the redness underneath. After a quick check in the bathroom mirror, Molly headed back out to the bar head high, and a smile on her face, trying to ignore the pang in her wrist or the ache in her stomach.

Nothing was going to spoil her normality. Later she’d tell Liam about it, get him to check the CCTV, make sure the guys ID and photo was kept on file so he wasn't allowed back in. In that moment, she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of being politely asked to leave. Instead she’d give him the embarrassment and shame when he turned up next, hopefully with a clutch of friends who would all hear exactly why he wasn’t allowed in when he would undoubtedly ask and whoever was working the door would remind him how he’d grabbed one of the barmaids across the bar and was lucky not to be, being done for assault.

Molly headed back out to the bar, and continued through her shift as if nothing had happened. It was hard though, when her wrist twinged everytime she picked something up, and everytime she bent she felt like the air was being punched out of her all over again. It hadn’t felt that bad at first, but the more time that passed the more she ached. The man sat at the end of the bar, and didn’t move all night, eyes fixed on Molly, trying to keep herself busy at the opposite end of the bar from him.

Molly did everything to ignore him, and the busier the bar got, the easier it was. However, he had been right about one thing. She liked knowing where he was. There was a certain reassurance in looking down the bar and seeing him still sat there, away from her. At least whilst he was there, he wasn’t coming near her. Everytime she looked, he caught her eye and smirked tauntingly. Molly looked away without reacting at all. She wanted to see the back of him, watch him leave the bar. She’d assumed he was waiting for friends, but the more time that passed, the more evident it became that, that wasn’t the case, and the more Molly got the feeling that whoever he was, he was there specifically for her.

It wasn’t busy enough to keep Molly’s mind off the strange man at the end of the bar, however her shift did seem to pass quickly, at least for the friendly shift, one that normally dragged through and ended just as things were getting good. Molly had about fifteen minutes left when out of the corner of her eye she saw him get to his feet, just as she was pouring a gin and tonic. She couldn’t help herself, she watched him leave the bar, put his wallet and phone in his pocket and walk away. Her heart was thumping in her chest, and her eyes followed him through the bar and to the door. She watched the door close behind him and it was only then she noticed the tears in her eyes and the shake in her hand that was holding onto a nearly empty bottle of gin. She swallowed the lump in her throat, blinked back the tears quickly, and got on with her job, something she was good at, and tried to forget about how piercing and threatening his icy blue eyes had been from across the bar.

When it came to the end of her shift, for the first time since she’d had the job, Molly was fully glad it was over, she wanted out of there. Not just because she was hungry, or her legs were tired, or eyes needed to shut, but because she wanted to wash it all off her skin. Her wrist was red, starting to purple just a little, but her knuckles were still just flaming red. Under her shirt she could feel her ribs were doing the same, but she was scared to look. Molly just pulled her hoodie on over her t-shirt and swapped her boots out for her tatty black vans and her shorts for baggy jeans. There was no way Harry would miss the marks, he never missed any changes about her, physical or otherwise. She knew she had to tell him the truth, but that was already making her throat tighten, the thought of explaining to anyone else after she’d told Liam, how a stranger had grabbed her in her workplace and made her feel as weak and useless as he had, made her feel sick and scared in a way that for some reason she didn’t want to admit to.

The thought of telling Harry though was even worse, but then the idea of trying to keep it from him was even worse than that. She didn’t want to keep anything from him, the same way she didn’t want him keeping things from her. As she stood at the small table she took her break at, putting her normal jewellery back on, Molly began to think about how she was going to explain what had happened to Harry, how she was going to assure him it was ok, it was being dealt with.

Because it was, Liam already had one of the doormen searching for the guys ID to make a note not to let him back in. Liam had asked if she wanted to report it, she didn’t. Liam had looked at her like that wasn’t the right answer, Harry would undoubtedly do the same, but it was up to her, and she didn’t want to. The thought of going through it again was terrifying, being asked detailed questions about it that made her question herself, innocent until proven guilty, wondering why she felt like the guilty one, why she felt she had to say sorry when she was explaining it to Liam. That was enough, let alone doing the same with someone she didn’t know, and who didn’t know her from anyone else making accusations about a stranger in a bar. As if that was good enough reason not to take it seriously.

Molly took her phone from her bag, 2 messages both from Harry. She smiled to herself, sometimes he just couldn’t help himself despite their agreements and compromises. And even though inside she felt grimey and disgusting, he still made her smile simply by his name being on her phone. That told her all she really needed to know.

Think things are sorted with Jimmy as much as I can for now, he listened to me at least and he seemed more understanding. He just wants you to be happy so think we’ve found some common ground again x

Sorry I’ve made such a mess of things, I’m going to make all this right, see you later love x

Molly found herself just staring at his words. It made her uneasy that she could still read guilt between every line. It was hard to move past it when he was still so wrapped up in saying sorry and making things better. It was hard to tell him not to though, it didn’t make any odds, he still did it, no matter how many times Molly asked him to stop. It did make her happy that something had been sorted with Jimmy, something was better than nothing, even if it was just the smallest piece of common ground. It was better than having Jimmy unable to be in the same room as Harry. She could hear all the things Jimmy would have fired at Harry, how it wasn’t a mistake, mistakes were accidents and lying was purposeful, how he didn’t like how easily Molly had taken him back no matter how much Molly assured that Harry made her happy, and that was all that mattered. All Jimmy saw was the nearly broken girl that he’d held tight until she finally fell asleep and stopped thinking about all the signposts she’d walked straight past without a second glance.

There was no way Molly could even guess what Harry might have said to begin to change Jimmy’s mind, but if it had worked enough to at least get him to listen it was a start Molly was happy to accept.

That’s good, I’m just leaving work now, I’ll see you in a sec x

Molly shoved her phone back in her pocket, before heading out of the door and trotting down the steps into the alleyway. There air was thick, hot and sticky, but still Molly was glad for her hoodie, folding her arms over herself and heading towards the road. The sun hadn’t yet set, it was nearly there, the navy night melting into bright tangerine, as the sun lingered on the horizon.

It was the footsteps Molly noticed first. Behind her and heavy, not trying to hide themselves. It set her on an edge straight away, because she knew she hadn’t seen anyone lingering as she left through the side door. Molly thought about just moving faster towards the road, she was nearly there already, but before her legs could actually do anything, instinct told her to look over her shoulder. And perhaps that was her mistake, because her feet seemed to get clumsy without her eyes looking where she was going, and she found herself tripping on something, but before she could fall, someone had her by the shoulders pushing into her until her back crashed against the wall, the clothes in her backpack luckily acting as a cushion. It all happened so fast and it took Molly longer than she’d have liked to workout who was leering over her, but the piercing blue eyes, the colour of ice more than the sky or the sea, were quickly recognisable. She doubted she’d ever have forgotten them anyway, but as they seemed to hold her against the wall as tight as his arms, she knew she never would.

“You took your sweet time didn’t you love,” He sneered, his face far too close to hers for Molly’s liking. She twisted her neck to look away and closed her eyes against him, she could feel herself shaking, her breath vibrating in and out sharply through her nose as she pinched her lips together to keep from whimpering. He just grabbed her jaw though and pulled her face back to him. She wanted to squeeze her eyes shut tight, but she opened them instead and her vision was blurred by the tears welling along her lash line. “Kept me waiting,” He snarled and Molly just swallowed on nothing staring back at him. She swore she could still feel the burn of his hand on her arm, and she didn’t want his hands anywhere else, let alone any other part of him, but she knew what was coming, she didn’t need to ask what he wanted with her. Molly just looked to the sky and waited to feel his fingers working at her jeans. The part of her that wanted to fight him away died, she’d never win, and she just wanted it over, she just wanted it to end.

There was a taste of blood as she bit her mouth tighter together, refusing to cry, refusing to give him that at least. Her head quickly dropped though when she felt something slam into her thigh, her muscle hitting the bone underneath, she cussed as it tore and looked down to watch his knee push further into her already dead leg. It ached like nothing she’d ever known and she winced, a bitten back squeal passing through her tight lips as her leg squeezed into the wall under the pressure of his knee. It left one of his hands free though. With his leg in hers, he only needed one hand to hold one of her hips to keep her in place, the other one was free to roam, and it roamed to the space where she’d cut the neck of her hoodie and the skin there was exposed. His fingers tickled over it, tracing patterns that made her prickle. Her throat was tight and dry and she tried to swallow down but it was a struggle.

“Such a pretty thing,” He whispered, his breath, stinking of beer and smoke, washing over Molly’s face. Molly’s jaw quaked, weakening her. She tried to fight back then, to push away but it only resulted in him pushing harder into her, unaffected by her attempts, almost acting as if it hadn’t even happened, just continuing with what he was doing. For a second his fingers trailed down her jumper and Molly held her breath tight against them. “What on earth does a thing like you, see in a waste of space like Harry Styles?” Molly’s snapped then, her eyes shooting towards him, nostrils flaring as she shook under his constraints. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” He hushed through a threatening chuckle. “You’re not going anywhere love, not yet, your face is still far too pretty, he won’t know I’ve touched you yet.” Molly let out her breath then, and it came out as a sob, she tried to lift her hands to his chest but he just pushed them away. It didn’t stop her, she kept trying, to scratch at his face, claw out his eyes, push him and knock the wind out of him. She couldn’t though, he was vastly stronger than her and he overpowered her like she was a baby bird with a broken wing.

“Know who I am yet?” Molly didn’t answer, just tried to avoid his eyes. “Gave him that lovely scar,” He added, pushing his leg into her thigh as if telling her exactly what scar it was that he’d given Harry. Molly felt herself stiffen as she stared at his shoulder, her jaw tight, trying to blank his voice out but it was hard when he let his mouth linger so close to ear, whispering quietly into it. “Don’t worry baby, I’m not going to cut you, that would be too obvious,” He told her and Molly cried then, pushing against him again, but still he just held her tight, never weakening. Molly felt his fingers rise up from her collarbones to her neck, tickling the skin and moving slowly around it until his palm was pressed against her throat. Molly whimpered as his fingers tightened just a little so she could feel the pressure of him, but he wasn’t choking her. “You tell Harry it was Aaron who did this to you, every bruise, every mark,” He started slowly, fingers running up the side of her neck to lift her head so she was forced to look in his eyes as he spoke. Molly shook her head. “Oh yes, you tell him, and remind him he owes me a fight, and I will kill him either way, but he’d rather die in the ring than what I’ve got planned for him trust me.” Molly felt herself shiver with that, and her nostrils flared.

“He’ll never fight you,” Molly sneered, eyes raking over his face like he was nothing, like he didn’t have her by the throat against a wall.

“He will, cause otherwise I’ll kill him, and if that’s not enough, and if this isn’t enough, you can remind him he’s a father now, and you’re not the only thing of his I can get to,” He smiled, and Molly kissed her teeth.

“You dare-”

“Don’t test me,” He seethed, his fingers tightening for a second, nails digging into her skin harshly. “So you’ll tell him won’t you?” He asked, but Molly said nothing, just hold herself tight. She didn’t know what she thought she was doing, or what game she was playing but she’d surely never win. “Won’t you?” He asked again, fingers tightening once more, waiting for Molly to agree, which she did eventually, with a small nod. “Good girl” He smiled. “Now you can tell me, what you’re doing with a worthless piece of shit like-” Molly lifted her free leg suddenly, sharply, into his crotch, it cut him short and it almost took Molly by surprise how much of a reflex it seemed to be. She hadn’t thought about it at all, she just did it, and now Aaron was crouched to the floor holding himself as pain seared through him. Molly didn’t think as she stepped aside and ran, and ran, and just kept running. Her head was blank apart from the need to just keep moving. There were no thoughts, nothing sensible, no other plan coming to her apart from to just keep running hard and fast far away from that alleyway, and from him.

For all Molly knew he was following, two steps behind, but she didn’t glance to look. That had been her mistake before, and she wouldn’t do it again. If she hadn’t looked before she might have gotten out of that alleyway, but then what. Would he always be waiting for her until he’d said what he had to say? Waiting for Harry? Or would he have gotten to Lola? No, Molly decided, it was a good thing it was her that night. It was better it was her that night because it was over and done with, and it meant Harry wasn’t bleeding out somewhere, and it meant Lola hadn’t been touched.

Molly’s lungs were burning as she eventually slowed, her legs unable to carry her at the same speed for so long. She didn’t need to look behind her, she swore she could feel him lingering, though that could have just been the memory of the way he leered over her, and she’d felt his breath on her and his hands holding her. Even so she kept her eyes on Harry’s building, she could see it now. It was part of the reason they’d agreed she’d go back to his rather than him meeting her at her place, it was closer. Not so far for her to walk. Earlier she’d nearly argued  it, he’d have to let her walk alone to her place at some point, but she’d decided to let him have that at least for now, and she was glad she had. She’d have never made it back to hers so quickly.

Her mind was still reeling, only thinking about getting away from Aaron, only thinking about getting behind a locked door. Adrenaline was still feeding her and she couldn’t feel any of her injuries, not a single one. She felt normal physically, but mentally it was a mess. All her head was doing was telling her to keep moving, she was nearly there, just keep going. Her legs carried her but she didn’t feel like she was attached to them. In fact she felt completely detached from everything, like she was hovering over her body looking down at herself as she rounded into the parking lot, and everything began to sink in.

It was only as she pulled the heavy front door open that she glance over her shoulder and caught him standing there, by the entrance of the car park, staring after her, smirking, far too close to her for Molly’s liking. It felt like he was just letting her know he’d always be there, he wasn’t going anywhere, always lingering, never too far away and always with a threat. Molly rushed inside pulling the door closed quickly as if that made any difference, before racing up the steps to Harry’s door. She knocked at it frantically, simultaneously kicking at the mat for the spare key. It just moved through and she heard the key move with it. Down stairs Molly heard the door open slowly.

“Shit,” She hissed, bending to the mat, still knocking on the door. Tears began to drip from her eyes as she began to panic all the things that had happened were about to get ten times worse. Her hand was beginning to hurt from the knocking, and her fingers trying to pick the key up from the floor were clumsy and useless. She heard feet taking the stairs, heavy, and she managed to convince herself they sounded just like Aaron’s had in the alleyway. She stood with the key, but continued to knock as she fought to get the key in the lock. “Fuck,” She blubbed as it dropped from her fingers back to the floor and Molly quickly followed it, just as the door opened.

“What the fu-” Harry began but quickly cut himself off as Molly rose quickly to her feet and pushed him into the flat closing the door behind them.

“Lock it,” She told him, she saw him begin to ask what was going on, but then his eyes saw her neck, and very suddenly she felt the bruising and the pinches on her skin, raw and stinging. “Lock the door Harry,” She sobbed.

“Who did this?” Harry seethed through clenched teeth.

“Harry please lock the-”

“WHO DID THIS?” He bellowed, and Molly just whimpered. Harry’s eyes fluttered shut for a second, as he composed himself. He wasn’t angry at Molly, but she was frantic with panic and he needed an answer “Please tell me who did this baby,” Harry begged still holding the door handle firm, holding the door closed, but Molly knew it wasn’t enough, and if Aaron was the one coming up the stairs he’d be nearly there by now.

“Please don’t go,” She sobbed.

“I’m not, I’m not going anywhere Lolly, tell me who did this to you please?” Molly swallowed then and looked at Harry through flooded eyes.

“Aaron,” She whispered, and watched it seep into Harry. His nostrils flared, and he sucked his cheeks in tight, wrenching the door handle, seeing red and moving to leave.“Don’t you dare,” Molly shouted after him. “Don’t you dare leave me alone like this,” She added quickly and Harry froze. “What’s more important to you?” Molly challenged, “Hurting him, or being with me?” Harry instantly softened, Molly saw it, the way his shoulders lowered and his head dropped, curls falling around him. He bent to the floor, grabbing the key from outside, straightened the mat, closed the door, double locked it, put the key on the side and turned for Molly.

“I’m so sorry,” He whispered, stepping close to her and pulling her into him. He’d never held her tighter. It wasn’t squeezing or painful, but his hands were strong where they landed, as if he was holding her together as much as he was holding her to him, and maybe he was. One hand moved to her head, holding it against his chest where Molly rested, and she felt safe, secure, in his arms. His head lowered onto hers, and his lips moved against her hair as he spoke, tickling her scalp. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t keep you safe, I’m so sorry baby, I’m so sorry.” Harry just continued to repeat over and over, holding her tighter and tighter. She winced as his arm squeezed against her ribs, and he obviously felt her. “Did I hurt you?” He asked unwinding from around her quickly and stepping back to look at her face, but he didn’t give Molly a second to actually answer.  “I’m sorry, fuck I’m sorry,” Harry breathed, hands moving to his hair, scraping through it. Molly just shook her head and rolled her lips together, sniffing as she stared up at Harry, not entirely sure what to say or do. “Let me see?” Harry asked, again Molly didn’t answer, but she didn’t stop him as his fingers moved to her hoodie, lifting it over her head, eyes always on her even as he began reaching for the hem of her t-shirt. Neither said anything, but Molly could tell Harry was waiting for her, so she just nodded once and Harry began to lift her shirt.

Molly closed her eyes. She hadn’t seen what was underneath, but she could bet it was ugly. It meant she didn’t see the way Harry held his breath at the sight of the purpleing mass on her skin, or the way he had to blink away tears, or the way his fist curled at his side. She didn’t see the way he wished he’d erased every compromise he’d made, how he wished he’d been unreasonable, and had told her he’d be there when she finished. She didn’t know how he wished he hadn’t ignored the feeling inside him that he should drive to Coyote when she text to say she was leaving.

“Come here,” Harry offered, taking Molly’s hand and turning them, leading Molly to the bathroom. Molly was quiet. Now she felt a little shell shocked, a little emotionally numb as everything sunk in. Physically she could feel each wound, everywhere he’d touched her, even the spit that had dried on the side of her face as he’d hissed words at her. Her ribs hurt when she breathed, her leg was still tingling, her throat felt sore and her neck felt like it had been wrenched at, her hand was sore and her wrist ached. But somehow all she wanted was for Harry to put his arms back around her, where she felt safe. “What did he do Lol?” Harry asked her calmly. Molly just stared at him, everything about her feeling smaller, swallowed by what had happened and less because of it. “It’s ok, nothing, no one, is ever going to hurt you again, no one’s going to touch you, I swear it,” Harry vowed taking her hands gently. He’d already noticed her red knuckles, but he didn’t guess that was something Aaron had done, assuming it was from an attempt to fight back instead. “Can you tell me what he did please?” Harry asked, still soft and gentle, unreasonably calm as he spoke.

“Don’t be angry,” Molly sort of asked, slipping her hands out of Harry’s. “Please.”

“Molly, you have nothing to be scared of, I’m not angry, I just need to know, that’s all, if you can, I need you tell me what happened.” Molly nodded then, and swallowed.

“He came into the bar, I didn’t know it was him,” Molly started, and lifted her hand as she explained what had happened there. She motioned to her ribs and Harry seemed to just be taking it all in, nodding as she spoke, not really reacting. “Outside, he was in the alley, I don’t know, I can’t remember, but he had me against a wall and he was holding me with his hands first, then my leg,” Molly brushed her fingers over her thigh. Even that was enough though, the skin tender underneath.

“Can I see?” Harry asked tenderly. Molly’s eyes were on her thigh, fingers lingering over her jeans where the bruising lay underneath. She nodded, and moved her fingers to the button of her jeans. Harry took a step back then, just a small one, putting a little distance between them, as Molly pulled the zipper of her jeans down. Molly didn’t look up as she pushed her jeans over her hips, but she found herself sniffing as tears began to fill her eyes again. She didn’t want to see what was underneath, she could feel it just fine. The way the flesh was moulding and festering, the way the muscle was quaking from the pressure he’d exerted with his knee and the way blood was rushing to the surface. So Molly closed her eyes as she pushed her jeans down her legs, bending at the hips, flinching as the fabric scraped over her thigh. Eventually she stood again, and stared at Harry as she kicked her jeans away and he stared at her leg. She watched his nostrils flare and the way his jaw moved slowly, before he sighed.

“Molly,” He whispered, hand moving to his face, leaning his mouth into it. Molly watched him quake, a shudder of breath leaking out of his nose as he stared at her thigh. Molly was chewing her cheeks, watching him think, she knew he was thinking, probably kicking himself for something that wasn’t his fault. Eventually he let his hand dropped and looked up to her face again. “And I take it he grabbed your throat?” Harry asked, and Molly nodded.

“Is it obvious?” She asked, but Harry just swallowed, and that was answer enough. She moved her hand to her neck tears in her eyes as lace like fingers made her sore skin tingle. Harry moved closer and took her hand away gently, hooking one of her fingers with his, and leaving it like that as he moved his face closer to her neck to inspect it.

“This is disgusting, I’m gonna fucking kill him,” Harry seethed.

“You said you wouldn’t get angry,” Molly reminded him quietly, sinking back.

“It’s kinda hard when he’s left his nail marks in your neck Lol,” Harry told her. Molly just took a deep breath, lifting her fingers to her skin again, feeling for said marks. “Let me clean this, there’s a little…” Harry trailed off to move for the sink.

“There’s blood!?” Molly shrieked forgetting about the pain in her neck as she twisted it to look at Harry, but quickly remembering as it seared through and she winced, holding her neck and moving it back to centre.

“A little, yes,” Harry told her, moving back with a damp flannel. Steadily he wiped at her neck, gently dabbing the skin to loosen the drops of blood that had leaked from where Aaron had pinched at her throat.

“You know why don’t you?” Molly asked, as Harry worked. He nodded, not saying a word. “You’re going to have to fight aren’t you?” Harry shook his head at that.

“No, I made you a promise,” Harry reminded her, but Molly just rolled her lips together, pinching them between her teeth gently. “You don’t need to worry, he’s not gonna hurt you again, no one is ever going to hurt you again,” Harry promised her. “Whatever he said to you, whatever threats he made-”

“He said he’d kill you,” Molly interrupted, “And he said you should remember your a father, and I’m not the only thing of yours he can get to,” Molly added, and Harry froze. Slowly she turned to look at him watching as it registered over his face.

“I need you to report this Lolly,” Harry told her carefully but almost without room for argument. Molly shook her head, softly at first, barely a movement at all, but it quickly got more frantic.

“No,” Molly told him, stepping back out of his way, back towards the wall.

“Whoa Lol,” Harry tried to hush her, reaching out for her, but she was too busy shaking her head, getting herself worked up, frantically running through the possibilities of what could happen.

“I don’t want to, please don’t make me, please Harry.” She was beginning to cry, tears falling from her eyes, hands shaking as she held her chest, as if her holding it meant no one else could get close to her again. Her back hit the wall and Harry watched her jump, looking over her shoulder for something that wasn’t there. She looked back to Harry, fear drowning her out, hollowing her out.

“Molly, it’s ok, you don’t have to, I’m not going to make you do anything, ever,” Harry told her, carefully stepping closer, extending his hand and slowly taking her arm, easing her towards him. “You don’t need to be scared baby, it’s ok,” Harry told her softly, it wasn’t a whisper, his voice was just gentle. “I’m going to make it ok,” He added, his arms wrapping around her holding her close again, kissing her head.

“Will you have to fight?” Molly asked again.

“I don’t know,” Harry admitted. They didn’t say anything for a while, just stood there, until Molly started to settle, until her breathing evened, and her fingers only twitched every now and again rather than shook constantly, and her eyes had mostly dried. “Sit down,” Harry encouraged, moving back and edging Molly towards the closed toilet seat. Molly sat down and Harry looked over her, “I’ve got some cream for those,” He told her motioning towards her bruises with his head, and moving for the cabinet under the sink, opening it and rifling around.

“If you have to Harry I get it, it’s ok, if that’s what it takes to get rid of him, it’s ok,” Molly sighed, and Harry glanced over to her from the cabinet, narrowing his eyes. “I’m serious, just don’t let him win, and don’t let him kill you,” Molly told him.

“I won’t,” Harry told her, crawling back over to her, a small tube of cream in his hands. It wasn’t confirmation of anything, or what would happen, and in an hours time Molly would probably take back her words, but Harry wouldn’t still be adamant Aaron would never win, and he’d never let him kill him.

Harry sat on his feet, squeezing some of the cream out onto the pads of his fingers. With a delicate touch he moved her t-shirt aside and began rubbing the cream into her ribs. Molly hissed as he touched the sensitive skin, and Harry froze for a second looking up to her. He could tell she was biting her teeth together, nostrils spread wide, eyes narrowed, but he continued. It stung, but she let him carry on. Once her ribs were dealt with he moved to her wrist, and hand, and then lastly her thigh. His hair fell over his face as he moved three fingers around in a circle over the skin, she looked at it the for the first time. The inflicted area was huge, a great mass of discoloured skin that was shining under the cream. Molly moved her eyes to Harry, preferring to look at him than what had been done to her. She tucked his hair back behind his ears, and she saw a small smile pulling at his lips. She felt herself doing the same, her lips twitching as he twisted his face to kiss her palm.

“There,” He finished, mumbling into her hand before screwing the lid back onto the tube. Molly just continued to stare at him. Harry groaned a little as he moved, but Molly watched as he got onto his knees, twisting at the gold signet ring he always wore. Molly narrowed her eyes, and they were still narrowed when Harry looked up at her from his hand, holding the ring between his thumb and two fingers.

“Harry, what the fuck are you doing?” Molly asked, panic in her voice, though an entirely different panic to what had washed through her earlier. Harry just chuckled and shook his head.

“Don’t freak out,” He smiled. “Not that, though I expect, no, I know, one day it will be that, but not today,” He grinned. “I’m just promising you, with everything that I am, that I am yours, and I will never lie to you, or hide anything from you ever again, I want to be yours, completely, I’m not ever going to take you for granted and I’m never going to let anything happen to you, or anyone hurt you again,” Harry vowed, his hands falling to her knees as he scooted a little closer, staring up at her from where he knelt. “You’re everything, you, and Lola, are all that matter to me, I’m never going to let anything or anyone get in the way of me showing you that,” He told her. Molly could feel a lump in her throat forming, eyes stinging as Harry spoke. “I need you, and I’m ready to commit one hundred percent of myself to you, I want to, I’m not scared of it anymore, I want to be vulnerable for you, I trust you, and I need you to trust me.” Molly nodded then, telling him silently she did trust him. “I want you to be mine, once this is done, I want to be able to tell everyone you’re mine, I know I don’t deserve a second chance but I really fucking want one, I’m ready this time, I’m not gonna fuck it up,” Harry promised her, and Molly, again, just nodded, a little lost for words, a lot overwhelmed. “I want you to wear this, and I never want you to take it off, if you don’t mind?” Harry asked, handing her the ring.

“Ok,” Molly blubbed, and Harry chuckled before sliding his ring onto the only finger it would fit, her second finger on her right hand. It was only then Molly noticed the ‘H’ engraved into the metal. Molly took a shaky breath staring at the ring, before bending and catching Harry’s lips with hers. They didn’t need to say anything else, it was all lingering in everything else, in Harry’s ring on her finger, in his other words, in Molly’s tears and her simple ok, and in the sweet kiss that made Molly feel as far from the fear she’d felt earlier as she possibly could. He was her safe place, and the edge, and everything in between. They weren’t hiding how they felt, they didn’t need to when everything else spoke so loudly for them.

I have, obviously, a very love-hate relationship with this chapter and I’m anxious for your thoughts and feelings adn theories. But as always that ask box is waiting for you and I shall answer them all Sunday afternoon/evening!

Have a great weekend, Isla <3

[galivantingg]

Behind Those Eyes

Chapter 7

A few months later and things had settled. Pluto and Met were working seamlessly together, and the others were well on their way to earning their place here. Ang and Mazus had worked out the few kinks they had at the beginning; Ang can be a bit too much to handle sometimes and Mazus had to be around him a lot. Oracle was being extremely cryptic towards Phoenix, which means he has seen nothing further than them partnering together. Today was one of those days, like the calm before the storm. I relished in it, wanting to see some action. I had been busy with school lately, and the Director had made me Second Respondent when he caught me with my notes coming back from a patrol.

"Hey Chameleon," I heard from behind me. I tuned to see Starbright and Starlight standing behind me.

"Hey guys," I said, frowning at their weird expressions. "What's up?"

Starbright stepped forward. "Light and I were wondering if you could train with us? We wanted to go up against a similar body type to Heathen, especially after last week."

Last week Bright and Light were the first respondents to Heathen, one of the villains who has been a thorn in our side. He had a tendency to evade capture, which made all of us extremely annoyed. He'd pop up, switch people from their religion to his, which was himself, then manage to escape.

He annoyed me.

I smiled. "Of course, the better everyone works together the more likely we'll be able to finally capture him. Lemme just get Waya to give me Heathen's powers for an hour or two; I'll meet you in the training room."

They nodded and headed off, and I turned to walk towards Waya's room. Hopefully he'd be in there. I knocked on the door, and a minute later it swung open, revealing my older friend.

"I need you to give me Heathen's powers for a couple hours," His face dropped. He hated doing this, since when he tried it a few years ago and it didn't exactly go to plan. He only does it in certain conditions, and for certain people. Me being one of those people.

"Cammie why," he asked standing aside so I could walk into his room.

"Starbright and Starlight want to go against Heathen again, they came the closest last week and they want to see if they can come close again." He groaned, and I knew I had won. I grinned.

"Ditto," he whispered, touching the centre of my forehead. I got tingles all over, way less than the lightning, and I felt a shift. My own powers had a similar feel, except now my body was changing without me asking it to. My hands and feet got bigger, and legs and arms stretched out. I felt something new, something different inside of me. It was like my powers were being squished down, and enveloped by something else. The something else, I discovered, was Heathen's power. It was strange, like I would tell exactly what faith Waya believed in just by looking at him.

He regarded me with cautious eyes. "You're a Wiccan," I stated. I hadn't known this before, but now that I think about it, it makes sense. There was something else there, in my powers. It wasn't as if I could just tell what his faith is, it was like I was in his head and could change his thinking. Suddenly I felt sick. Heathen needed to be locked up. This type of power shouldn't be allowed to roam free.

"Okay, I don't need to tell you not to use these powers foolishly, judging by your face." Waya said, less cautious after my expression of disgust. "Try not to touch anybody you might instead get their powers. Your body has all of his muscle memory, so you'll be able to fight like him. It's okay if someone touches you, and if you use your body to block attacks, but be very cautious. Keep Heathen in your mind, everything about him."

I nodded, and bounced up and down on my toes a little. I smiled at him and walked out of his room, turning back when he called my name.

"And remember, whatever damage you take, he'll take."

I left his room, heading towards the Pit. The Pit, I'm so glad you were wondering, is an actual pit. It is. It's located in the training room, or floor, and is the best place for sparring. I had also named the Pit. As I was walking, the alarm went off. I raced to the Briefing room and burst in, spotting Geronimo sitting in front of the board.

"Who is it?" I asked, leaning over her shoulder to see. She glanced at me and did a double take, practically leaping from her seat and taking up a defensive position. Ah, right. I'm not me, I'm Heathen.

"How did you get from the Coliseum to here so fast?" She asked, glaring at me.

I rolled my eyes. "It's Cammie, Mo." Her shoulders relaxed at the sound of my nickname for her.

"It's Heathen, actually," she said, pulling the chair underneath her and turning back to the computer. "He just popped up in Met and Pluto's area. They're on their way to engaging, and asked for backup." I turned from the board and sprouted wings from my back, shaking them a bit.

"I'm heading over, tell the others." Geronimo nodded and turned to the door, where other members of the Agency were spilling through. I pushed my way out of the doorway and set off, trying to get there as quickly as possible. I took the entrance closest to me, a doorway behind the fridge, and shot off into the sky. I climbed higher and higher, spotting the Coliseum to my right. I took off, pumping my wings and streamlining my body as much as possible, entering a dive.

I pulled up short of where my coworkers were, watching for a moment Met and Pluto tag teaming Heathen. It was something special watching them. They moved together so gracefully, winding around each other and covering each other's back. I shook my head, and landed beside Met.

"The others are coming, but for now it's just me. Houdini should be here with Waya shortly." As I said this we heard a sucking noise not far off and spotted Houdini and Waya ducking behind a car. Pluto made a run for where Met and I were, but Heathen spotted him. He picked up something from beside him which was probably sharp and heavy, and lobbed it at Pluto. In a panic, I reached out a pulled Pluto towards me, sparing him whatever nasty toy Heathen has brought along.

As soon as I touched Pluto I felt my body tingle, and Waya's words came back to me in a rush. Well damn. Pluto looked at me in shock, and I tried to gather the words for an explanation. "Waya, word of command," I said. He nodded mutely, apparently understanding why he was staring at a carbon copy of himself. Down to the powers. Wait a second, down to the powers. I lifted up my hands and imagined something cold gathering there, and these small patches of snow showed up. "Huh," I said, staring at the pure white snow. "Well I've got to admit, this is pretty cool."

With that, we stood, and charged at Heathen, taking him by surprise. Met blasted him in the middle, Pluto and I taking a side. I'll admit I may have gotten a bit carried away with this new power. I could faintly head Waya yelling my name behind me, but I was too focused on the ice coming out of my hands, radiating off of my body. Freezing Met.

Wait, back up. Freezing Met? His skin turned a pale blue tint, and Pluto could only stare in horror as Met's body slowly started to become covered in ice. He yelled, and suddenly this massive blast of heat rolled off him, straight towards me. I raised my hands up instinctively to protect my face, and I could feel the blisters form. My skin burning. It was not fun. Not fun at all.

I screamed out in pain, and I dimly heard someone else scream. Then I passed out.

. . .

I woke up in my bed. My hands were heavily bandaged and my throat was dry. Legion was sitting in a chair next to my bed, his head in his hands, his shoulders rising and falling steadily with each breath. "Hey," I rasped out, drawing his attention.

"Cammie I swear to God you never get to use Ditto again." Waya spoke up from the corner. I looked up at my ceiling, swallowing roughly.

"Yeah that's probably fair," Legion got up and grabbed my water, helping my drink it. "Thanks Kev," I smiled at him. I pushed myself into a sitting position and looked between the two. "How's Pluto?"

Legion looked down, and Waya answered me. "Geronimo patched you two up as much as she could, but Pluto isn't as lucky as you. He needs his hands for his powers, and they aren't working as well anymore. We're not sure if he can reliably use his powers any more."

I looked down. This was my fault. I shouldn't have charged in as Pluto, wielding powers I didn't know how to use. "What about Heathen, tell me we at least got him?"

"Yeah, but his left side is thawing out," Legion muttered.

Also my fault. I hurt two people, even if one is a villain, I still feel guilty. I stood up, pushing my covers back. "I'm going to see Pluto," I announced. It wasn't a question. I needed to talk with him, find out how he's holding up, let him know how sorry I am. I needed to fix this. I stood up and walked out of my room, unravelling the bandages as I went. I took a deep breath in and felt the warmth spread from my core up my torso down my arms and into my hands. The skin healed over, and I flexed my hands, checking that they still worked.

I walked to the other hall, and stopped a few steps from Pluto's room. His door was open. "Hey," I said softly, standing in the doorway. He glanced up at me and immediately dropped his head back into his hands. "Can I come in?" He nodded slightly and I sat near him on his bed. I gathered myself, trying to find the right words. "Those hands aren't looking too good, can I see them?" He moved his hands closer to me but still kept his head down.

I took hold of them gently, then took a deep breath before pushing my magic- because that's the only word I know can describe it- into his hands. The warmth flowed from my core into his hands, leaving the faint feeling of spring humming through my veins. At this he looked up. For a few minutes all he could do is stare at his burned hands slowly repairing the damaged cells.

"How-" he started, slightly choking on his words. "How are you doing that? I thought only Geronimo could heal?"

"Did you know that shape shifting didn't run in my family?" I asked instead, trying my hardest not to let my emotions consume me.

He nodded his head and mumbled a yes, not really paying attention, before snapping his head up to stare at me. "Wait what?"

I hummed. "Yeah, my family gift is healing. I didn't become a shapeshifter until a few years ago." More like a decade, but he doesn't need to know that.

"Wait wait wait, back up." He said shaking his head. "You said didn't. What do you mean by that?"

"Have you heard the rumours about the Director and I?" I asked, avoiding eye contact. I was still holding his hands. The magic continuously flowed through me to him, smoothing over rough skin, turning it from that gruesome pink to its natural light brown colour.

He frowned. "Yeah Met has said your arguments are legendary. But he never told me why you guys can't get along."

"That's because he's the reason I'm a shapeshifter and my whole family is dead." He stared at me, unable to find a response to that bombshell. I took that as an invitation to continue talking. "Before all of this, I had a family. I had a mom and a dad and a little sister and brother. We lived in the city. We had a good life, we were happy. I used to sit out on the roof, wrapped up in my mom's favourite clothes and blanket, just staring at the stars. One night a storm blew in, looking like it was searching for something. It was moving way too fast, and stopped near me. Then the lightning came."

"It was the worst pain I have ever felt. My house caught on fire and the roof collapsed. I was trapped under wood and brick, my body convulsing and smoke filling my lungs." I almost succumbed to the memory, I could almost taste to smoke. "The last thing I remember before passing out was my family's dying screams." I sighed and sat up straighter, finally letting go of Pluto's hands. "I woke up months later with tubes covering my body, blind and alone and in pain. The only thing that saved me was my healing."

I was silent for a while, remembering blackness, then light, light so bright I didn't know I was blind. Then everything went dark again. I remembered pain, slowly waking me up, covering every inch of skin all the way down to my bones.

"What does this have to do with the Director?" Pluto asked, his voice slightly raw. I glanced up at him, and noticed the horror on his face. I looked away, knowing that I would soon cry.

"Years later when he and his Scientist found me, they explained that the lightning was one of their experiments. That made it so much worse," my voice shook. "I came to the Agency, but I made it clear that he owed me four life debts; he can't make me do anything at all. He may be the Director, but I am in charge of him."

"What were your sibling's names," he asked quietly, leaning his shoulder against mine. He was a physical person too, just like me, just like my brother and sister.

I smiled softly, tears pricking my eyes. "Demeter and-" I paused, my voice wavering. "Demeter and Hades," I finished. I could no longer hold back my tears. They drip silently down my face, blurring my vision.

"That's why you made that expression when I chose my name," he realised. I thought I had hidden it, but it was no use. My family had a tradition of naming their children after Greek gods, and even their Roman version brought tears to my eyes. They were so young when they died. So so young. It wasn't fair.

"I was filled with so much anger, so much hate," I managed to choke out. Pluto lifted his arm and wrapped it around my back. "I took it out on the Director, within reason, and it made me clam up around everyone in the Agency. I was just enraged, all the time, until I woke up this morning." I looked at him through watery eyes. "Jacob I am so sorry that I acted recklessly, I knew you would get hurt and I didn't stop to think about it. I just knew that there was someone I could take my anger out on."

He nodded, rubbing my back comfortingly. "It's fine, Cammie, I understand. And you healed me. Just please, don't act so recklessly again. We all love you and want the best for you, we don't want to lose you." My face crumpled at that, and I buried my head in his shoulder sobbing. He hugged me tight, and we stayed like that until I calmed down, taking deep ragged breaths.

"So how do you know my name," he demanded. Uh oh.

[loveforpreserumsteve]

All Grown Up: "ALN" Story (Pre-Serum Omega!Steve and Alpha!Bucky Modern Domestic AU [[REUPLOAD]])

Twenty-Nine:

At six, Steve dragged himself out of bed.  He had been awake for a couple of hours already, but now he knew that he had to stop overthinking in bed cuddling his husband and get ready to start overthinking in the kitchen, slaving over Thanksgiving dishes. Of course, Steve knew that he shouldn’t have been so worried about the guest list since there had been only a few changes over the past two decades, but he couldn’t help himself.

“What are you doing up?”  Steve asked, seeing Ian already in the kitchen, sleep rumpled and all.

“Well, I couldn’t let you have all the fun, could I?”  The twenty-six year old smiled, starting the coffee.

Smiling too, Steve reached up to ruffle his adopted son’s freshly colored aquamarine hair. Playfully, he claimed, “This is why you’re my favorite.”

“I knew it,” Ian joked, a sleepy smile quirking on his lips.

Heading to the fridge to get the ingredients needed for Sarah’s Spouse Stealing Snickerdoodles, Steve asked, “What time did you get in?”

“One,” Ian stretched his arms above his head and wiggled his fingers towards the ceiling.

Pausing on his way to the pantry, Steve shook his head and shooed the young alpha out of the kitchen, “Go back to bed. You know the excitement won’t start for a couple more hours.”

“Pops,” Ian playfully rolled his eyes, “You know as much as I do that that’s not gonna happen.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Steve sighed.  After gathering the dry ingredients for the cookies, Steve said, “’M sorry about you having to sleep on the top bunk, by the way.”

“It’s fine,” Ian shrugged, taking a seat at the breakfast bar. Chuckling, “I would’ve fought Finn to not have to sleep on the pull-out.”

“Can’t argue there,” Steve chuckled too.  “I’d do the same.”

As Steve started making the cookie dough, Ian poured the two of them some of Bucky’s brownie flavored dark roast. For a while, the pair stayed in the kitchen in companionable silence.  Not that either minded.  It was easy to just be there while Steve got a jump on the cookies and Ian read.

“Whatcha readin’?” Steve asked, curiously tilting his head to the side to try and get a better look at the cover.

“Dears of Devotion,” Ian answered, turning the page.  Before Steve could ask any more about it, he said, “The sequel to, Choice of Passion.”

“What’s it about?”

“Kinda like Romeo and Juliet but with faerie biker gangs,” Ian took a drink of his coffee.

“That sounds –“ Steve got to work rolling the dough into little balls “– interesting.”

“It is,” Ian agreed.  Turning the page, “I can bring them for Hanukkah.”

“I would love that,” Steve smiled.

“Hey,” Ian outstretched his arms. Chuckling, “Would you expect anything else from your favorite child?”

Playfully, Steve rolled his eyes.  “How many books are in the series?”

“It’s a trilogy,” taking another drink of his coffee, “The first is, Inspiration for Bliss, the second is, Choice of Passion, and then this one.”

Nodding to himself, Steve finished rolling the last ball in the cinnamon-sugar and placed it on the baking sheet.  Turning so he could put it in the preheated oven, he opened the fridge to get the thawed turkey.  Normally, Silas and Tibby took care of the turkey while Winnie brought the brisket.  But with Steve having more guests, he felt that it was only right to make enough for his newfound siblings.

“So,” Ian started, trying to seem nonchalant, “The whole fam is gonna be here?”

“As far as I know,” Steve confirmed.

Ian nodded to himself, “What’re they like?”

“Like,” Steve started but paused. He wasn’t sure what to say.  What were they like?  The only thing he could compare them to was, “Us. They’re Barneses through and through.”

“Cool,” Ian smiled to himself.

Steve nodded, “Very cool.”

Rubbing the uncooked turkey with butter, Steve heard tiny footsteps running downstairs.  Briefly, Steve was worried that they had made too much noise for their youngest guest, and he instantly tried to be even quieter.  Hoping that if he could be quiet enough, the little girl would turn around and go back to bed.

Unfortunately, a small figure with wild blonde curls peeked at him from over the head of an old, ratty pastel pink plush bunny head.  Warmly, Steve smiled and gave her a little wave.  Shyly, she returned the gesture before turning to look at the large sectional sofa.

Gesturing towards Suki, Steve quietly instructed Ian, “Go help her with the TV, yeah?”

Nodding, Ian climbed off the stool and entered the living room. Not wanting to spook the little girl, Ian walked around the other side of the sofa so he could get the remote.  Turning on the TV, Ian took a seat and started flipping through the streaming catalog.

The more Ian scrolled through the different kid themed shows and movies, the closer Suki got to sitting in the sofa.  Eventually, the little girl took a seat on the edge of the chaise portion and pointed at the TV, “That one!”

Smiling, Ian chose Rodgers & Hammerstein’s Cinderella.  Steve couldn’t help but smile too, knowing that it was Ian’s favorite.  As the pair started singing along, Steve’s smile grew.  And a very little voice in the back of his head noted that perhaps Katie and Suki were Barneses as well.

[kriskebob-blog]

Day 6: Lots of prep, and maybe turning a corner?

EHi friends. I’ve fallen a little behind, whoops. So I left off with Sunday night. If you recall, on Saturday I felt kind of sleepy and beat after hitting the gym but my energy improved as the day went on. Sunday I honestly felt pretty good all day even with the hike and the heat from being out by the pool. 

Monday, though, I woke up and I just felt so clear-headed. I felt focused and just ready to take on the day. The way you wish you felt every day when you wake, you know? And I was going to need the energy, because it was once again going to be a grocery shopping day. Not only that, I had to thoughtfully meal plan for the first time since I’d started this project, e.g. refer to Dr. G’s two-week meal plan and make sure that his suggested meals for each day would more or less work with our schedule. 

It didn’t take nearly as much time as the first time I’d done it, and what’s more, I had a few produce items I wouldn’t need to purchase because I still had enough left over from the week before. I checked out of Big Y with my smallest bill yet. I went to the farmstand and had a <$5 charge for the first time in weeks - all I picked up were an onion, a couple huge carrots, and a new pint of berries. However, I did have an exotic ingredient that was going to warrant another trip to the Asian grocer and/or Whole Foods: I needed dried dulse, aka seaweed flakes that would be added to a miso soup recipe. 

I got home and ate some gumbo for lunch. There was still enough left for more leftovers the next day; that recipe seriously had made a lot. Then it was off to the races to find my dried dulse. This week, I decided to go to the Asian market first, because I figured if they did have the dulse it’d be a lot more reasonably priced there than at Whole Foods. There were quite a few varieties of dried seaweed there, but no dulse flakes. However, I did spot an 8oz bag of dried shiitake mushrooms for only $10.99. 

...

Do you want to know how much I paid at Big Y for a mere friggin’ HALF OUNCE of dried shiitake mushrooms?? Do you??? 

I paid $5.99 for half an once at Big Y for a product I could buy at the Asian food market for less than twice that price and SIXTEEN TIMES the amount. Let my failures be your lesson, friends: go to your local ethnic grocery stores to stock up on pantry items like dried mushrooms, spices, rice, etc! It is SO MUCH CHEAPER than what the same item will cost at a corporate grocery store, and you’re supporting a small local business at the same time. Like literally you can buy tubs of spices like turmeric, cumin, cayenne pepper, etc. etc. for a fraction of the cost you’d pay for a comparable amount at a place like Stop & Shop for Big Y. It’s totally worth the extra errand for any staple ingredient you use often. 

Anywho, I hadn’t found dried dulse but I still emerged feeling triumphant thanks to my renewed supply of dried mushrooms. I use those suckers all the time to make the veggie stock. I headed over to Whole Food’s. It was every bit as crowded as last time. I’m starting to realize that Whole Food’s is probably just literally always super busy, because there’s relatively few stores in our area that offer the amount of specialty cooking products that they do. And, clearly, there’s a rising demand for that kind of thing! Consumers want to cook in more healthful and interesting ways. And I can’t even be upset that I’m continuing to perpetuate Jeff Bezos’ evil empire when my Amazon Prime membership means I can buy two cartons of organic raspberries for $5. I want a Whole Foods on the other side of the CT river ASAP, honestly. Or maybe Sam and I will move in that direction soon enough. We’ve been considering it! 

Ahem, sorry. A lot of deviations today. Somewhere out there every English teacher I’ve ever had is bowing their heads, ashamed of me. So at Whole Foods, I found dried dulse no problem. I also found a product that had eluded me at Big Y and the Asian market - 100% buckwheat soba noodles. All the other brands I’d found until then had been a combination of wheat and buckwheat - but Dr. G had stipulated 100% buckwheat and, as you know, I’m trying to avoid half measures! 

I checked out and headed home. The whole time, I couldn’t stop thinking about how different this day felt compared to last Wednesday, in spite of how I was running basically all the same errands under similar conditions. Except one condition wasn’t similar at all - the food I’d eaten so far that day. If you remember, when I got home last Wednesday (the last day I’d allowed myself eggs, meat, cheese, sugary snacks, etc.) I was literally so exhausted from my multiple grocery trips that I collapsed onto the couch for a two hour semi-vegetative state in front of the TV. But on this day, I felt calm and clear-eyed the entire time I was running my errands. Sure, it helped that I had a better idea now of where some things were - but not everything. I still had to hunt down unfamiliar ingredients, and while certainly nothing had challenged me so much as the miso, I had still been on the go from pretty much the minute Sam had left early that morning. I’d stopped quickly for lunch but this was typically when I felt an afternoon slump in my energy levels and focus. But I didn’t feel that slump as I headed back into my apartment. Instead, I felt ready and even excited to do some cooking. 

I looked at that night’s recipes. Because I’d be making miso soup, I was going to need veggie broth again - a lot of it. More than I had left over from yesterday’s batch (I’d used a lot of that to make the rice). So for the second time in two days, I was going to need to throw together some veggie stock. I got that going and then took inventory of the recipes coming up. In addition to the miso soup, I was going to be making soba noodles with chopped veggies and an almond butter sauce. One ingredient for the almond butter sauce was “umani sauce,” which of course was a sauce to make in itself. It wasn’t too hard to throw together - more veggie broth (I was literally going through the stuff like water), minced garlic and ginger, a bit of molasses (Dr. G specified “blackstrap molasses” - never heard of it - I just used normal molasses), date sugar, tomato paste, pepper, miso, lemon, and rice vinegar. It made plenty more than I would need for that night’s recipe, but I tasted it and am looking forward to using it in more recipes in the weeks ahead - it’s really tasty.

Behold, umani sauce. 

I figured so long as I was at it getting all this stuff prepped, I would finally make the date syrup I’d been substituting with agave or maple syrup in several recipes so far. This was super easy - I just needed to boil a cup of water and put the dates in to soften for an hour. It got blended at the end with a bit of lemon. Again, not actually hard at all to put together - you just need to have the foresight to do it before you actually need it. 

Ta-da: date syrup. You can see my (terrible) stove in the background with the veggie stock simmering away. 

At this point, I was on a roll. I was still feeling good and buoyed by how much energy I had that day compared to the previous week. So, in spite of how no upcoming recipes called for the “healthy hot sauce” I had wound up not making for the burritos, I still had a couple of bags of habaneros and other red chiles in my fridge. The recipe called for 12 ounces of fresh hot chiles, which is quite a lot of chiles. They were taking up a lot of room in my produce drawer and I wanted them gone, but I wasn’t willing to throw them away... especially not when Dr. G stated that the healthy hot sauce could keep in the fridge for up to six months. I was already on a food prep kick that day - might as well make it. 

Dr. G. advised wearing rubber gloves for prepping the chiles. Great idea in theory, but the only rubber gloves in my apartment are used for cleaning the bathroom, and I wasn’t about to use those on food. So, one by one, with my delicate bare hands, I painstakingly seeded and chopped dozens of habanero peppers and a handful of red hot chiles. This kind of sucked at first (the anxiety that I might accidentally touch my face/eyes is real), but eventually I relaxed and got into the flow of it, and it was satisfying to see the initially giant mound of unchopped peppers gradually go down. They went into a medium-sized saucepan with some water, a chopped onion, and garlic. It simmered for about 20 minutes and then Dr. G said I should let it cool down to room temperature before blending it. Why exactly? Not sure, but I do what the man says (or try). He said to add between 1/2 cup and 1 cup of apple cider vinegar, basically to taste. I started with 1/2 cup and tasted it. And... yup... very hot. It would have to be used very sparingly, but it wasn’t so hot that it was totally inedible, at least by my standards. I wasn’t sure whether or not to add more vinegar. Would that make it hotter? Less hot? More acidic, obviously, but peppers are so acidic already... I wasn’t sure what the true purpose was in terms of taste but felt like more vinegar would dilute the habanero flavor a bit. Maybe? I tried it out and added more vinegar before tasting again. I think it had the effect I wanted in taking back the habanero flavor a little. Who knows. Looking forward to trying it out in the future, even if we wouldn’t be needing it for that night’s meal. Here’s what it looked like:

It was around 4pm by then and a little too early to start dinner. I wandered off to relax for a little while and around 5 I got back at it to prep the miso soup and soba noodles dish. 

I made the almond butter sauce first. Like most things in this cookbook, it was easy so long as you had the ingredients on hand - things like the umani sauce, blended lime, etc. Some garlic, ginger, miso, and red pepper flakes and that was it. I thawed some frozen edamame and chopped some carrot, red bell pepper, and scallion. I actually stopped and read for a little while, because Sam was at the gym and the miso soup looked so quick and easy that I didn’t want it to be ready too soon. Eventually I heated up 5 cups of the veggie broth and added some more edamame to that. Next came a couple handfuls of sliced shiitake mushrooms and scallions. In a separate bowl, I mixed a small amount of hot broth with 1/4 cup of miso - by far the largest amount of miso I’d used at one time yet, but then, it is literally called miso soup. Dad, here’s another shout-out for you - you probably haven’t had miso soup but I think you’d like it! It has a nice salty, mushroomy flavor. This one though was definitely heartier and thicker than the kind you’d be served at an Asian restaurant, mostly thanks to the pureed veg in the broth. When you’re out to eat, miso is mostly a thin broth with a few tiny scallions and mushrooms mixed in here and there, but this was a hearty soup with tons of mushrooms. And then, as is the Dr. G way, you had to add a bunch of greens too - 4 cups of chopped spinach, to be exact. And of course, our friend the dried dulse was added in at the end to get that extra seaweed flavor and nutrition.

Once I knew Sam would be ready to eat soon, I tossed the soba noodles in a separate pot to boil. You then run them under cold water and mix the cooled noodles with the almond butter sauce and chopped veggies. No heating it through - apparently it’s a pasta salad meant to be eaten cold or at room temperature. 

Here’s the finished products:

The verdict? For both of us, the miso soup was our favorite of the two. The soba noodles were decent but I think in the future, I would go for the cheaper (and much easier to find) buckwheat/wheat soba noodles. These 100% buckwheat noodles were particularly chewy and had a stronger flavor than I’m used to from a pasta, it was a little distracting. I’m sure you could get used to it, but eh. The almond butter sauce was decent, although it’s hard to say how much I really liked it when I was a bit distracted by the buckwheat flavor. I think the sauce could’ve used a little more spice but then, I like my food to pack a big flavor punch. The miso soup, though - totally delicious. I probably wouldn’t change a thing if I made it again.

So, a busy Monday of a lot of shopping and prepping food. If it sounds time-consuming and like a lot of work... it is! But a big part of that is just my learning curve with these ingredients and recipes, and also creating my own pantry items that now will hopefully last me for a few weeks or even months (the date syrup, umani sauce, hot sauce etc...). I haven’t minded because this is a hobby and an interest for me, but I can see how it’d be a barrier for the average American working full-time and trying to juggle 4873286 other responsibilities and commitments on top of that. But honestly? This cookbook is designed with ultimate maximum health benefits in mind. Dr. G wrote this thinking of the sort of person who’s been told he probably has 6-12 months left to live due to the progression of their cancer, or the person who’s had to have multiple bypass surgeries due to the advancement of heart disease. That’s why there’s no oil, no added salt, and no store-bought sauces or condiments in this book. But does that mean you couldn’t cook this way yourself? 

I think not at all. This book shows you what the absolute ideal would be - according to Dr. G’s nutritional philosophy, anyhow. There are other big names in nutrition who agree with him but there are others who don’t - a topic to get into more on another day. But if you think you’d be willing to try making a few plant-based meals, or even make a complete switch for a week or two as an “experiment” like I’ve been doing, but the homemade sauces and condiments and milks sound like too much work and you also refuse to give up your EVOO and kosher salt - then don’t! It’d be so easy to adapt these recipes to your own preferences. As I’ve written multiple times, I’ve tried my best to follow Dr. G’s instructions as faithfully as possible just because I’ve been curious about what it’s like to cook that way. If you think all this extra legwork isn’t feasible for you but are curious about the idea of incorporating more whole-food meals into your diet, you can absolutely use these recipes but substitute in your own hot sauce. Your own sweeteners. Your own vegetable stock. Add salt or oil if you want to. Your own pre-made Asian condiments that you know are loaded with salt and sugar. Heck, I’ve done almost all of those myself multiple times already on this journey. At the end of the day, you’re still getting a lot more vegetables and fiber into your diet, and you’re also significantly reducing your carbon footprint for that day - did you know every pound of meat you consume takes several hundred gallons of water to produce? 

The reason why I titled today’s post “turning a corner” is because Monday is the day I first started to really think - Maybe I really do want to live this way. Not just as an experiment. The recipes have been delicious, honestly not that hard to prep (especially if you opt for pre-made condiments!), and I feel more energetic and focused than I’ve felt basically ever - and that’s after only 6 days. How will I be feeling by the end of Day 15? Still remains to be seen, but right now I’m definitely feeling more and more each day like I’m moving in the right direction. I feel like I’m taking control of my health and my life in a way that’s extremely satisfying. 

Oh, and for the record - there won’t really be a Day 7 post, because I had so much leftover food at the end of the day on Monday that there was no need for me to cook yesterday! I’ll still aim to have a blog post up again in the next day, but will just skip ahead to Day 9. 

Happy hump day, friends! See you on the next post. 

Today’s music rec: “American Boy” by Estelle

[ladysmaragdina]

So remember how that ramen joint was opening up across the street from me today? Yeah, me neither.

In other news, HOLY SHIT GUYS, I FIXED MY RAMEN RECIPE. HOLY. SHIT. I’m gonna post it here so that a) I remember how I tweaked the base recipe next time and b) last time I posted about ramen I got about ten requests for this, so here you go.

This is a nice, straightforward, miso ramen. It’s not a super-creamy 18-hour+ tonkotsu ramen. I’m not that godly yet. (I’m also a white person who is not even trying to be authentic)

Okay.

BROTH

(Cook/prep time 7+ hours, can be made in advance)

Until I figure out how to get shit to render properly in a slow cooker, this is a day-long cooking endeavor.

The recipe I’m basing this off of calls for four pounds of pig neck bones, one whole quartered chicken carcass with the breasts removed, and one pig trotter. I don’t have a stockpot big enough to deal with that and am intimidated by pig trotters (and chicken necks, and chicken feet, and other things I probably SHOULD be using), so:

- A couple pounds of pork bones

- A couple pounds of chicken wings

- One onion, chopped

- About ten cloves of garlic

- About a two-inch piece of ginger, peeled and chopped

- One or two carrots, peeled and chopped

- A handful of dried shiitake mushrooms

- One or two sticks of celery, chopped

- Instant dashi*

* Yes, I could make my own dashi with kombu and bonito flakes and such, but fuck that.

Toss your pork bones in a large pot, cover with cold water and bring to a boil. Hold it there, skimming scum off the top, for 20-30 minutes or until scum stops rising. Pork bones are weird; this keeps your stock from smelling funky. One time I didn’t blanch and it was Not Great.

While that’s going, chop your veggies and, optionally, brown your chicken wings.

When the bones are done blanching, dump the water, rinse the bones, rinse out the pot if you’re still using the same one. Toss everything except the celery and the dashi in a large stockpot. Cover with water by an inch or two (if you wanna replace some of the water with a can or two of chicken broth, go for it). Bring to a boil, reduce to the smallest of simmers, and cover. 

Let this go at a bare simmer for at least six hours. I let mine go for ten. You’re not leaving the house today. 

DON’T FUCKING STIR. 

When there’s an hour or two to go, add the celery (DON’T FUCKING STIR).

When it’s done, carefully strain, discard the solids, and add the dashi at a ratio of about 1/2 teaspoon/cup. I save this for last since a) dashi doesn’t like sustained high heat and b) I’m never sure how much liquid I’ll end up with. Incidentally, two cups of broth is about one (very generous!) individual serving, and I’ve got little tupperware containers that hold that much; I’ll dump a teaspoon of dashi into each one and ladle the broth over.

This stuff freezes real well. I usually get about 5-6 bowls of broth out of one batch.

Your broth is gonna taste kinda shitty. It has no salt! Read on.

TARE

(Cook/prep time 15ish minutes, can be made in advance)

Tare = flavoring. I’m still tweaking this part, but today is the first day I feel like I maybe got it right.

I should probably reduce this recipe by a third or so; it makes a FUCKTON of tare (but if you’ve got extra tare left over once your frozen broth runs out, you can half-ass the broth with canned chicken broth, dashi, and whatever aromatics you’ve got floating around. It won’t be as rich, but hey. No pork bones or gristly chicken bits = no collagen to render = no need for a 6-hour cooktime!).

- One cup white miso

- One cup red miso (yes, you want both types. BOTH types. I’ve done this with pre-blended red-and-white (awase) miso, but for some reason it’s not as great)

- At least two or three tbsps soy sauce

- One tbsp sesame oil

- One or two tbsps tahini (if you don’t have tahini - I opened mine today and found it was moldy - double or maybe triple the sesame oil)

- One or two tbsps rice wine vinegar

- At least six cloves of garlic, grated

- About a two-inch piece of ginger, peeled and grated

- Half an onion, grated

- Sichimi togarashi to taste (a teaspoon? half a teaspoon?)

- Salt and/or - gasp! - MSG to taste

Mix it all up into a paste. Taste it. Is it salty as absolute fuck? If not, add more soy/salt. Then a little more to be sure.

This also freezes real well.

FAT

(Cook/prep time 30ish minutes + however long it took you to accumulate the bacon grease, can be made in advance)

This is TOTALLY OPTIONAL, but! It’ll give you that nice shimmery aroma-trapping film of fat on the top of the bowl.

- Grease from maybe one package of bacon (if you’re not straining and saving the grease from whenever you cook bacon, SHAME. You can also just buy lard - but. BACON.)

- The other half of your onion, chopped

- Some more ginger, peeled and chopped

- Maybe a dozen cloves of garlic

Cook the onions, garlic and ginger in the fat until golden - maybe half an hour? Strain, discard solids. Now you’ve got garlic-ginger-onion infused bacon fat. Congratulations.

This keeps in the fridge real well.

TOPPING: CHILI-GARLIC STUFF

(Cook/prep time 15ish minutes, can be made in advance)

This isn’t a recipe so much as “shit I threw together at the last minute because I realized that miso ramen goes well with spicy things.” Take some minced garlic, vegetable or sesame oil, a lot of sichimi togarashi, and whatever else (sesame seeds? Sugar?). Saute until the garlic is blackish and sticky. If you’re feeling less lazy than I was, puree. Toss that shit on as a topping because, since you made it, it’s fancier than sriracha. Yaaaaay.

TOPPING: MARINATED EGG

(Cook/prep time 6-8 hours, CANNOT be made in advance)

Soft-boil an egg! Bring a pot of water to a boil, dump in an egg that’s still cold from the fridge, and boil for six minutes; your margin of error here is maybe thirty seconds each way. Shock in icewater. Peel, carefully. Marinate in a 3/2/1 ratio of soy sauce, rice wine vinegar, and sake (you can skip the sake, or add other things like ginger or extra sugar, or whatever), folding a paper towel over the top to soak up the liquid and ensure the top off the egg soaks too.

Marinate for six or perhaps eight hours, definitely no more than ten. Too short in the marinade, and you won’t pick up much  flavor (you’ll still have a nice soft-boiled egg, though). Too long, and your egg will start getting weird and rubbery.

NOODLES

Noodles

(does... does Amazon seriously have these listed for $25 a pack? They’re like $3 at my local Asian market. Good lord.)

Seriously, if you’ve read this far... don’t use instant noodles. Fresh noodles are amazing. I buy Sun Ramen’s frozen miso ramen kits and toss out the flavoring packet. (Lowball the cooking time. The miso noodles say to cook for 2:15; I give them maaaaaaybe two minutes)

All this shit (minus the egg) fucking freezes, and fresh noodles are no exception. Give them a day to thaw in the fridge before using.

ASSEMBLY

The fucking GREAT thing about ramen is that ALL THIS SHIT FUCKING FREEZES and you can just heat it up later. So:

- Thaw/heat up your broth, heat up your water for the noodles.

- While that’s going, dump about a tablespoon of your infused fat and an ice-cream-scoop of tare into your bowl (honestly, I add tare to the point of saturation). Prep any toppings you want - take the egg out of the marinade, chop green onions, whatever. Set the table. Pour your drink. Do all that shit now.

- When your water and broth are both boiling, dump the noodles in the water and start a timer for them. While that’s going, dump your broth into your bowl and wisk until the fat melts and the tare is incorporated (don’t forget to give the noodles a stir or two during this so they don’t clump). 

- Drain the noodles, briefly shock under cold water, and dump in your bowl. Quickly. Fresh ramen noodles are WEIRD. If you don’t shock them, they’ll keep cooking and go mushy; if you don’t get them from boiling water to bowl in less than ten seconds, they clump like fuck. (I have never tried to time the noodles for multiple servings of ramen for multiple people. I am vaguely terrified to)

- Toppings

- IT IS FOOD

And there you go!

...You’ll notice I’m missing a recipe for everyone’s favorite topping: chashu pork. Honestly, I live alone, this is SO MUCH FOOD that chashu pork feels excessive. Don’t let me stop you. Go do what I cannot.

[veneataur]

Prompt: Grief

Fandom: BBC’s The Musketeers

Title: The Phone Call

As Aramis stands, tucked in the alleyway to protect against the wind, he knows he will hear it from the others when he sees them. That is precisely the reason he called Constance, once he managed to convince the stranger that his badge was, in fact, real and he was an officer in distress. He also made sure to delete the call, a trick he learned from Athos.

That one-minute call feels like it was made hours ago but Aramis knows that it can’t have been more than a dozen or so minutes. It’s the cold and the snow and the wind that’s making the time drag. And it doesn’t help that in his rush from the building, he forgot his jacket. It was still light when he left, mid-afternoon if he remembers correctly. Now, the sun has set and he’s in his old haunting grounds. His clothes are muddy and wet both from tripping in his frantic run and the falling snow, which started just before sunset. He’s been shivering since he stopped running and realized where he was and is sure that he’ll get sick. The scrapes on his hands and face from not quite catching himself when he fell ache and sting.

Quite simply, he is miserable, both physically and emotionally.

When he sees a car turn the corner, he moves to step out of his makeshift shelter. But then the car zooms past and he catches the license plate to see that it’s not Constance. For a brief moment his little shelter feels warm with the lack of wind when he steps back in, but then the cold seeps back in and he shivers anew.

He shouldn’t’ve run. The others didn’t even know why. They were asking him what happened. He saw their mouths move, their questioning looks, but missed the shock and concern as he bolted. They might’ve made some connections if Athos was able to break through his phone. The man could do it, Aramis was sure of that. And while he normally wouldn’t breach Aramis’ privacy, this was not a normal occurrence.

Minutes later, when the shivering is tooth-rattling and he regrets not layering better today, Constance arrives. He waits this time for the car to stop fully before coming out of his shelter. When she yells his name out, he walks quickly over. Slipping is the last thing he needs for his day.

“Here.” Constance holds out a thick blanket, which he grabs right away and wraps around himself. Then he gets in and buckles up. But she doesn’t take off right away.

“They know I was coming to get you,” she says.

“Th…anks.” The shivers seem to be even more pronounced now despite the warmth that is gradually seeping in.

“They wanted to come with. I told them I’d keep them updated.”

“Thank… you.”

“And Treville gave me this.” She holds out an inhaler which he takes right away and uses. Running in the cold had aggravated his asthma.

She sends a quick text, which he guesses is to Athos and then takes off. They don’t speak on the drive for which he is grateful. The heater is up high and he knows that she must be sweating but it’s taking everything not to throw his face right in front of the vents to thaw it out. He’s not surprised when she takes him to her place instead of going home. All of them have spent a night at her place, him most of all.

When they get there, she is out first and just as he manages to undo his seatbelt and open the door, she is there with a hand to help him up. He doesn’t balk at the help, feeling like an old man as the temperature change has left his body aching. He stands, huddled pathetically in the now cold and wet blanket as she locks up the car and then turns to help him in her apartment. The elevator is broken, leaving them to climb three flights.

His wet clothes chafe and weigh him down nearly as much as his heart and mind but he keeps it to himself. Instead, he puts one foot in front of the other, thinking only about dry clothes and a hot shower. Slowly, they put the flights behind them.

“Why don’t you go get a shower and I’ll get something together for dinner,” Constance says once they’re in her apartment.

He nods and wanders off. He knows where everything is.

He can’t think of a better shower in more recent memory. He tries not to use all of the hot water, but he does. He doesn’t want to get out, sure that once he does the warmth, the comfort will be gone. He knows it will because then he will have to face the phone call.

But he does and not because the hot water runs out. He likes to think he’s the sort who doesn’t run from his problems but he does. He has. If nothing else, he can say that he will face them in time, his time.

He puts on his warmest clothes. Constance insisted when it became clear that her spare bedroom was a safe zone for them that they at least keep a couple spare sets of clothes there. He wears a pair of sweatpants, thick wool socks Athos found for him one Christmas, an undershirt, a long-sleeved shirt and a sweater, one his oldest sister knitted him and he is warm. More than that, he is cozy.

His scrapes cleaned and the worst of them bandaged, he pads out into the kitchen where Constance is just finishing up dinner.

“I don’t have much, but I thought I nice hot meal would help you warm up,” she says with a smile.

“You didn’t have to do anything. I’ve asked too much of you already.”

“It’s nothing. I had the extra chili in the fridge and the corn muffins took hardly any work. There’s some water in the kettle, which should be hot. You can make yourself some tea.”

“Thanks.” He goes to make the tea, keen to have something warm to drink.

“It’s what friends do, Aramis,” Constance says.

Aramis smiles, as he looks down at his tea brewing. This is why he likes Constance. He gets on well with the others, but there’s a special bond between him and Constance. More than any of the others, they’re on the same wavelength. She gets him in ways that frustrate the others.

“They’ve all sent their well-wishes and offer their help in whatever way they can,” Constance says.

“Thanks for dealing with them.”

“Well, you can’t really without your phone, can you?” She pulls the phone out of her pocket and puts it on the counter. He makes no move for it and she doesn’t say a word other than that dinner is ready.

They chat idly as they eat.

When the dishes are done and both are sitting in the living room with mugs of hot chocolate in their hands, Aramis wrapped in a blanket against the cold that he can still feel in his bones and what will come, they talk.

His phone has migrated from the kitchen counter to the coffee table. He can’t help but stare at it.

“How’re you doing,” Constance asks.

“Tired and cold.”

“I’m not surprised. You were miles from headquarters and sopping wet when I found you. What happened?”

“I don’t know. I’m not even sure how I got there,” Aramis says, closing his eyes. “All I remember is running.”

“Did you have a panic attack or a flashback?”

“Yeah but I don’t think I can tell you which right now. It’s not quite clear. I kept seeing Afghanistan and the massacre. I’m not sure how I came out of it.” He looks at her and shrugs his shoulders. “I was sitting in that alley when I realized where I was.” He remembers having the usual confusion and haziness that came with an episode.

“How are you feeling with them now?”

“Fine.” He shrugs again.

“You okay with talking about what happened?”

Aramis sighs and nods. He’s not but he knows he has to.

“Who called?” Her voice is quiet and reassuring. He sets the mug aside.

“I didn’t know them. I don’t know how they got my number,” he answers, voice flat. He squeezes his eyes shut at the memories. Then there’s a gentle hand rubbing against his.

“Aramis, who were they?”

“The parents of one of the children I got killed,” he answers with a strangled sob. Constance is next to him in an instant, mug set aside and a hand around him, pulling him close.

“You didn’t get them killed,” she says. Most days now he understands that but there are some days still that it doesn’t matter how many times they say it, how many ways, he will never believe it. She lets him work through his tears before continuing.

“What did they want?” She rubs a hand on his back.

“They’re going to be in the States to meet with some charities and politicians. They want to see me.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” Aramis says plainly.

“They didn’t say?”

“I didn’t hear. I blanked out after the visiting and ran out soon after that.”

“Oh. Well, maybe it’s something good.” She tries to be cheerful.

“No. They’re angry and they have every right to be. I got their child killed.”

“You didn’t but I know you’re not going to believe that right now, so I’ll leave it. But tomorrow and every day after that I’m going to remind you that you didn’t get them killed.” She pauses to let the words sink in. “Did they sound angry?”

“It was choppy. They were having a hard time speaking English. They didn’t know that I speak Pashto.”

“Well, I doubt you were able to speak.”

“No, I couldn’t.” Aramis shakes his head.

“Maybe it was just a misinterpretation,” Constance says.

“No.”

“You don’t know for sure unless you speak with them again.”

“I couldn’t.” Aramis’ face goes paler than it is already.

“You can because I’ll be there to help you. So will the others, probably, but I won’t speak for them.”

“I….”

“You need to,” she interrupts him. “You’re not going to be able to settle until you know what’s coming.”

Aramis sighs. She knows him well.

“You won’t be alone.” She reassures him, giving him a hug.

“I know. I know,” he mutters.

They’re silent for a while, Aramis enjoying the warmth and Constance’s steady presence.

“How mad are they,” Aramis asks.

“They’re not mad. They were puzzled and worried. They wanted to search for you.”

“I’m surprised they didn’t.”

“Treville convinced them it would be pointless for a few hours.”

“He knows me well.” Aramis smiles lightly.

“Anyway, I warned them before I left about giving you too much flack for this. Told them you had a good reason and that I wouldn’t stand for them bombarding you with questions and their concerns.”

“And that’s why I’m here?”

“Do you not want to be?” She turns to look at him.

“No, I’m happy here. I couldn’t face them tonight. I know they care but they’re overwhelming together.”

“Oh, I understand that.” She’d faced them all this evening right after Aramis called.

As they lapse back into silence, Aramis finds himself strangely content. He’s not thinking about his past or the phone call. He doesn’t fret over still having to deal with the call and the parents. Instead, he’s content and he thanks Constance for that.

[opepin]

oct/nov: week one

30: hm, i don’t know how i woke up at 9 / 10 am today... i got only 5 hours of sleep and i felt kind of awake the entire day. i felt a bit off but was pretty productive. kevin and i woke up at around the same time and he made breakfast and went to work. i didn’t eat but just went on the computer and started working on timesheet stuff. then i got on a call with phil. in the background, i did laundry and wrote down personal things i needed to do for the rest of the week. it was a pretty chill day. i just prepped for tomorrow’s session with phil and got on stand up. i folded laundry and then washed the blankets as well. i was going to take a nap but then i didn’t feel like sleeping when i got into bed. i actually got hungry and ate the last of the leftover fries from mindy’s fat cat order. lol. then kevin came back from work and i did about 50-60 minutes of random ab and cardio workouts in the apartment. i just didn’t feel like walking over to the studio and stuff. i was mentally tired.

i went to shower and kevin made beef stroganoff <3 omg, it was sooo good. he did use sour cream though... next time, we’ll look for a dairy alternative. i think maybe all of the dairy / junk food is catching up to me. my stomach feels pretty acidic and i feel fat and blubbery. we watched two episodes of yakitate! japan and then kevin washed the dishes and gamed. i stayed up a bit to watch youtube videos and a bit of anime. i got really tired though and just went to bed. lol i make it sound like i went to sleep super early. i slept at like 12 am or something though. 

31: i am just flubber and blubber right now. i did a hiit workout in the morning, but i don’t know if i pushed myself enough. maybe my body is tired from lack of sleep? after my workout, i showered and made my smoothie before heading out to work. i got to work later than expected thanks to the weird time gap after the 8:55 am train. i got to work and did some tidying up and prepping for the last training session with this customer! :) i got on the call at 11 am and then ate lunch in john and cole’s office lol. they had already eaten their lunch so i just hung around and talked with them a bit before going back to my office for stand up. dave and joe didn’t come in so i had the office all to myself. after stand up, i worked on a few things but also focused on figuring out the best health plan for me. with the help of john and the trusty internet, i found a health plan analysis graphing tool and it made my choice a bit easier. i ended my day doing some quick surveys and then left at around 4:30 pm with cole. we headed to cha time and beard papa’s again and then walked to south station. kevin was already waiting for me and we shared the mango smoothie he wanted. i said goodbye to cole on the platform -- he was frazzled because he missed his train :(

the train was packed and i was separated from kevin. :( lolol but we walked back home together with him looking like a crazy head. his hair was all over the place LOL. he said he was a mad scientist for halloween... kevin went climbing a couple days ago so he asked for a massage and i massaged his arms and back. i’m glad he’s feeling better :) then kevin played some dota while i watched some anime. we stopped to eat leftovers for dinner and watched an episode of yakitate! japan before playing trine 2. the last levels made me crazy. kevin had to pause the game so i could breathe and not get super mad at him LOL. co-op games really test your patience with people :P we finished trine 2!!! the ending was pretty crappy tbh. my head hurt a bit so we didn’t play the DLC and kevin went to game on his computer while i stretched and finished up an episode of the ‘classroom of the elite’ anime i was watching. i stayed up until around 1 am and then went to sleep.

01: i feel really tired and unmotivated to work out. i think the feelings about my weight gain have caught up to me T__T i did get myself out of bed and into the yoga studio to do my morning arm workout. then i did some hip exercises before going back to the apartment, waking up kevin, showering, and making my morning smoothie. kevin made himself a breakfast sandwich and then headed to work. phil sent me a list of things to do and i got started on that right away. then i took a break and ate lunch while watching anime. then i hopped on a call and then got onto stand up right after. i started thinking about christmas presents and stuff. the thought of getting an advent calendar is consuming me, but i don’t really need / really want a specific one. i worked on my to do list during stand up and then continued until the work day was over. it is now the start of my 4-day weekend! woot! :)

i went back to the yoga studio and did more arms and some back. i tried to do less weight today and better form. after the work out, i felt like i didn’t push myself hard enough (the next day i was pretty sore though). kevin came back earlier than i expected but i finished up my work out and headed back to the apartment. he was cooking chimichurri chicken and rice today so i showered and made my protein smoothie. i think i just chilled and waited for dinner. i forget if kevin cooked right away or if he took a break before cooking, but i think i got hungry ahah. the wait was worth it though! i love this recipe (not as much as the beef stroganoff)! it was creamy and garlicky, but it could have been a bit more creamy somehow. we watched two episodes of yakitate! japan and then kevin went to game and i went to watch my anime. i caught up with all the ones i’ve been watching and continued watching ‘the classroom of the elite.’ i went to sleep after. i think my favorite hobby is watching tv or shows right now. i mean, i could do something more productive but i think my mind needs a break from reality right now. 

i’ve been trying to embrace instagram again, but i still have some pretty negative thoughts when it comes to how people present themselves and the influence of social media on my generation and the generations after us. i just feel like so many teenagers and utilizing this as a way to get famous quick kind of deal. at first, i was really hyped about getting back on instagram and making a big move to increase my followers and stuff, but just looking at what my friends like (lol kinda stalkerish but i’m also just curious) i notice that there must be a million accounts with a ton of followers but that doesn’t mean they are successful or actually putting their true selves out there. i think that’s the biggest thing for me. i don’t want to ever post something that i don’t identify with and on social media and instagram, i don’t know what’s real lol. i’m the type of person to idealize people, situations, etc. so when i go on instagram and see all the highlights of peoples’ lives, i always need to remind myself that these are photos they choose to share with the world and it’s not the whole picture. i can get lost on instagram and feel real shitty about my life after scrolling a ton. but again, that’s just me and i need to remember that if i really wanted to change my life, i can at anytime. i just to be motivated and break through those obstacles. mmm, sorry... that was a tangent ahah.

02: sleeping in feels so nice, especially on a weekday when you’re supposed to be working :P this is day two out of six of my pto at home for the rest of the year~ kevin made me a breakfast sandwich and we ate breakfast together. then he was off to work. he was supposed to come back early to get a haircut but he left later than usual lol. i started my day finishing up ‘the classroom of elite’ anime. it was interesting... i might wait for season 2 but i’m not sure. the beginning was pretty slow but i feel like everything is going to speed up. then i started watching ‘knight’s & magic.’ the beginning of this anime is a bit rushed but there isn’t much of a real plot... i was super excited about the robots and magic though, haha. i ate lunch while watching and then stopped to try to install this laundry weighing stuff from a survey i signed up for. i realized their plug didn’t fit my washing machine’s plug and had to contact them. i put that aside and then got straight to cleaning the apartment.

i put on my ‘watch later’ youtube playlist on the tv and then thoroughly cleaned and vacuumed the kitchen. then i vacuumed the rest of the apartment and cleaned the entire bathroom. it took longer than i expected. i also didn’t expect to vacuum but there were so many crumbs on the kitchen floor T_T right after cleaning, i hit the fitness center at around 3:30 pm. i was scared away by a person in there (i was hoping no one would be there because it was the middle of the work day) but then i went in and did legs for more than an hour. i didn’t expect to do legs for more than an hour but my rest periods between sets was longer than usual. i used a 50 lb weight to do my sumo squats and deadlifts and i was about to die in the beginning of my workout. i’m still having a lot of trouble with bulgarian split lunges :/ i can’t balance well on my flat feet and my hips hurt a bit when doing them. maybe i’ll do them with less weight next time. my first workout took around 45 minutes, but i was supposed to do it in 30 minutes (was trying to fit two 30 minute leg sessions as i usually do on a regular weekday. i do 30 minutes in the morning and 30 minutes in the evening). so i pushed myself and did an extra 30 minutes on top of that. i did half with some weights and half mat work.

when i got back to the apartment, kevin reminded me that i volunteered to cook. this was a slow cooker recipe so i decided to wait out on my protein shake and showering. i made the sauce and when i took out the chicken thighs from the fridge, they were still frozen D:< it is my biggest pet peeve when i have to cook and my protein is frozen. so i left that out to thaw while i prepped the cabbage and carrots for slaw. i decided to work with them after i made myself my smoothie. my fingers hurt from pulling them apart, but i got the skin off of them and seasoned them and into the slow cooker with the sauce. at first, it didn’t look like they were cooking but they were (thankfully). kevin got back home and we played a steam game together. i forgot what it is called, but it enjoyed this one. we saved our progress after an hour of playing and then he went to run. i showered and then lazed around the apartment. we finished making dinner after kevin showered and the chicken was cooked. i shredded the chicken while kevin made the seasoning for the slaw and toasted buns. we made pulled chicken burgers with slaw for dinner. kevin loves this type of food but i don’t LOL. most of the time when i cook i don’t like what i make. the vinegar taste subsided with the bun so it wasn’t bad.

after dinner, kevin cleaned up and then he gamed. i continued watching my anime and almost fell asleep watching it. i got myself up to brush my teeth and hop into bed. i tried staying up watching youtube videos and then i almost fell asleep again so i just turned everything off and slept at 1 am. lol even on my days off, i can’t sleep too late xP

03: i feel like my eye bags get worse when i sleep in. they are pretty low and dark right now and i’m not sure why. hmm. well, i got up and then made myself a smoothie while kevin ate his breakfast. then he went off to work and i started day three of my pto at home this year ;D i finished watching ‘knight’s & magic’ in the morning; this anime was great and lighthearted. then i decided to watch ‘kimi no todoke’ because i wanted something sappy. then i spent some time packing up the laundry survey materials because i can no longer be a part of it :( the stupid plug is too big. sigh. i had to put in a service request to get someone to push the dryer plug back in because i didn’t have enough strength. lol, i felt super weak after the guy came in and took like 5 seconds to get it back in. ><’ i should have waited for kevin... around 3 pm or so, i went to the yoga studio and did a hiit cardio routine with a step :O it was intense! then i prepped for dinner and made myself a smoothie before showering. kevin got back and wanted to go running but i was hungry so we made dinner before he went for a run. we made shakshuka today and it was delicious!

after eating and digesting a bit, (lol actually, kevin was still in the apartment), i watched the latest episode of ‘jane the virgin’ and stretched. kevin was listening in as he was on his computer doing stuff hahaha. then kevin finally left and i finished stretching. the rest of the night consisted of complete relaxation. i think kevin and i played hammerwatch together for a bit and i watched ‘kimi no todoke’ for the rest of the night until like 3:30 am LMAO. the anime is so cute and addicting. my heart skips a beat when love scenes happen O_O” lol i feel like a haggard old lady.

04: i stayed in bed with kevin instead of working out lol. i really should have worked out before our massage but i wasn’t feeling it. i ended up doing 20 minutes or so of hip hop cardio later on in the day though. anyway, we slept in and then rushed to eat some scallion pancake with egg for breakfast and then left for our appointment at 1:15 pm. we got in and i had one of the best massages ever. my masseuse used the hot stones to religned or stretch out my muscles along my spine. it felt so good! i also got walked on today because i asked for a leg and back focused massage. i came out of the massage knowing that i was going to be super sore the next day. i felt like jello lol. we walked over to oh my tea and i got a hot honey oolong tea with boba and kevin got a large mango smoothie with boba. we shared an egg puff of course! we got back to the apartment and we were going to meal plan but i got so distracted by all the stuff on food52. omg, everything is so beautiful on there. i was also shopping at aerie too lol. 

flo and john took the train from south station to our apartment and we went and got them. we gave them a quick apartment tour and then they both showered and got ready for the wedding they were attending. kevin and i finished meal prepping and then we sent them off to their wedding LOL. we felt like parents sending off their children. at this time, we both didn’t feel like going grocery shopping lol. i think kevin went and gamed and i watched videos and watched ‘kimi no todoke’ lol. i really didn’t feel like going outside but kevin wanted to get grocery shopping out of the way, so we did. we went to ikea first to return some items and also to get dinner. we were hoping to be in and out real quick because it was already 7 pm and everything closes at 9 pm. we went to the return area and there was a 20 person wait... so we got a ticket and then waited in line to get dinner. i got the salmon and kevin got the swedish meatballs and chocolate cake. after we found a seat, i left with kevin’s credit card and the stuff to return it. sooo ikea’s layout makes it so that you have to go around the store to get to the check out... i ended up doing that only to end up at the checkout area where there were a ton of lines. i would look super suspicious if i tried going through one of the closed lanes or passing others in line.

so i found this lady putting away stuff at the end of the registers and asked her if i could pass. she said that she didn’t know if i had stolen those and that i should have returned my stuff when i got in ikea. i told her i have the receipt and showed it to her. she didn’t care. she just shrugged and said she wouldn’t let me pass. OMG wtf lady?! so i called kevin clearly frustrated and then i walked all the way back to him. i was really upset. what a rude lady. so then kevin took a stab at it. he took the elevators down thinking it would lead him to the front, but nope, he also had to walk around LOL. good thing he basically finished his food. i wasn’t going to finish my food but i did and i also ate some of the chocolate cake because i was furious. kevin went up to a cashier (person wasn’t busy) and showed them the receipt and they let him through. good thing there were only 3 people waiting now. i had lost our position in line (physically. i lost the ticket in my frustration) but they passed our number already. so we got to return everything, kevin came back, we finished eating, and we dipped. omg, i hate ikea now. i don’t want to go there for a while -____-”

by this time, it was 8:30 pm. all thanks to the lady, we couldn’t finish our grocery run. ugh. we stopped by bj’s, got our stuff, and went back home. i was still agitated so i did hip hop cardio in the apartment to blow off some steam. ajfbsjkdfbsjfsd. then i played helldivers with kevin for part of the night. lol, i’m getting better at the gamee (: i showered at around 12 am and then stayed up watching anime while kevin gamed. flo and john didn’t come back until 3 am? well, it was 2 am minus daylight savings time haha. we let them in and then went to sleep right away. it was about 3:30 am or something when we slept.

05: flo and john woke up early for the time that they slept at. kevin and i got up at around 10:30 am and brushed and made breakfast. i made my smoothie for myself while kevin cooked up a scallion pancake, dumplings, and soup dumplings for him, john, and flo. after i finished drinking my smoothie, i made my orders on aerie and they went through! yay! then i joined the group as we talked about random stuff. then they told us about their trip to iceland and where to go. we planned on going to fat cat for lunch so we drove there and kevin parked further than i thought he would so i was freezing in the thin hoodie that i wore. there was also a 30 minute wait so we ordered to eat in the car. lol, i wish we could have gotten seated :( the receptionist wasn’t very nice either. while we waited for our order, i casually said ‘oh my tea is the best boba i’ve ever had. lol, after that, flo and john were like, ‘we must go!’ so we walked over and they got a strawberry mango smoothie with boba and kevin and i shared a lychee green tea boba. flo said it was the best boba / smoothie she has had in the united states :OOOO woot! we walked back to the car and then drove over to fat cat to pick up the food.

we ate in the car and i’m so happy they liked the food! we ordered lobster mac, calamari, and a seafood red sauce pasta. mmm. they ate as kevin drove to south station. there was a bit of traffic but the HOV lane came through and we dropped them off at the bus terminal with minutes to spare (: it was great having them over! we drove back home and then rested for a bit. i think kevin and i are a bit burnt out when it comes to hosting people. ever since late september or so, we’ve been non-stop hosting or doing stuff on weekends. we went grocery shopping and then i did laundry. i was feeling akfjnskjdfs. my stomach hurt physically -- i think it was all the food i ate from last week and this one. x__x; while the laundry went, i watched a few episodes of ‘kimi no todoke’ and then when i put everything in the dryer, i did cardio kickboxing in the apartment with no weights. i was feeling really tired and sore but didn’t feel like skipping my workout. i took it pretty easy though and didn’t do much jumping.

kevin made us korean rice cake soup for dinner so we could heal from all the eating out. :P we watched yakitate! japan and then cleaned up. kevin went to shower and game and then i continued watching my anime lol. i finished folding laundry and etc too. i finished the first season of ‘kimi no todoke’ and my heart has burst so many times. this anime is so cute! lol. i slept at 1 am because kevin and i make the bed together and i didn’t want to interrupt his game ahha. i ko’d once i put away my phone. zzzz. hopefully, i won’t be sore tomorrow.

[blustersquall]

A second offering of writing. Follow up to this one. In which Gladio helps out with a delivery at the bar. Whether she asked him to help, or not.

Tagging people who asked to be tagged (i hope that’s okay?): @ffxvhoe @mp938368 

It was almost two whole weeks before Gladio found his way back to downtown Insomnia and The Caged Canary. Since his first visit, he had thought very little of the bar or its owner and, when he did think of it, he remembered more the calm, easy atmosphere and the jukebox, more than the drink or the owner. He did remember her though. Her easy smile, mischievous eyes, and departing words which, to him, were an unsubtle hint that she wanted to see him again.

Not that Gladio could blame her for even wanting to clap eyes on him again. From what he remembered, most of the male patrons in the bar the night he went were in their older years. Nothing wrong with that, but nothing particularly attractive to look at for a woman probably the same age as he was and hot blooded. Women liked to look, and admire, just as much as men did. His visit must have been a nice change of pace.

Gladio started making his way there after his morning workout, a shower, and running a few errands around the city. It didn’t matter that this was a rare day off, the work of a member of the Crownsguard was never done. Even less so when it was the work the future Shield of the King.

After several few wrong turns and checking his bearings more than once before he found the bar again. If it was hard to notice at night, cushioned between a flashy restaurant and a nightclub, it was practically invisible during the day. If it wasn’t for the delivery van outside and the different coloured crates all piled up, The Caged Canary would have looked just like an unfortunate residential property, situated in an unlucky spot. Even the plaque with the name hanging over the door seemed to blend into the wall.

A man stood outside, an electronic tablet in hand marking something off. At first it was just him, but a few seconds after Gladio arrived, Isla appeared from inside the bar, grabbed a crate with both hands and heaved it inside with a small grunt. He watched her do it twice, before making himself known.

“Looks like hard work.” He stated, announcing himself when her hands were empty. Isla stopped, hands on the crate she was about to pick up, her eyes finding him in the relatively empty street. She arched an eyebrow, head cocking to one side as a look which shifted from surprise, confusion, wariness and curiosity crossed her face.

“Keeps me busy,” she replied, lips curling into a grin. “This bod doesn’t happen by itself.” She playfully pretended to flex an arm as if to make a muscle, then grabbed the crate to haul it inside. By eye, Gladio could see another dozen or so crates that needed moving into the bar. Without thinking about it, he approached, lifted one onto his shoulder and hoisted another under his arm, balancing it on his hip. As he went to enter the bar, Isla stopped in her track, a few feet from the door. “Uh, whaddya think yer doin’?”

“Where do you need ‘em?” asked Gladio, adjusting his hold on the crate under his arm.

Isla shifted her weight from one hip to the other. “I’m a big girl, y’know. I don’t need some wonder boy to give me a hand.”

“You want me to drop ‘em where I stand?”

“Please, don’t.”

“Then where do I put ‘em?”

She sighed, “behind the bar.” She jerked her thumb in the in the general direction.

Gladio smirked, satisfied to have his way and to be making himself useful. Between them, they moved the remaining crates into the bar within minutes, piling them up on each other until there were a three towers of crates and clinking bottles. The van driver had Isla sign off the delivery confirmation on his tablet, said he’d see her same time next week, and left them – the van choking out plumes of black smoke from the exhaust as it grumbled down the street, leaving the two of them in silence.

Gladio stood just inside the building with Isla, the two of them watching the van depart. He was starting to wonder why he’d come back and, more to the point, why he stayed. The bar wasn’t open, so he wasn’t going to get a drink. No one had asked for his help, but simply took it upon himself to assist. Now, the task of moving heavy objects from point A to point B was done and he found himself considering why he didn’t just make an excuse and leave.

“Well, that was a timely arrival.” Isla said, breaking the silence between them that was uncomfortably tense, “thanks for the assist.”

“No problem,” Gladio replied with a nonchalant shrug. “I was in the area.”

“Uh-huh.” She turned her whole body to face him, chin up, eyes alert and a little more suspicious now, than playful. He remembered the night he first came to the bar her hair was tied back, tufts of it escaping from a haphazard bun. Now it was pulled back into a ponytail and he could see a few small, thin braids tied into her hair. He noticed, too, her wrists were adorned with intricate, decorative black ink tattoos. He had seen elements of her appearance on the refugees from Galahd, but she didn’t look like she came from Galahd. And those who had arrived in the Crown City from outside The Wall, generally stuck to their own niche locations with others who were familiar to them. “So…” Isla pursed her lips. “I guess I could get you a drink, to say thanks for the help…?” She frowned. It seemed as though she was struggling to understand why he was there.

“Sure,” Gladio said. “I’ll take that offer if you can tell me my name.” He chose to give her an out. Not a test of sorts, but if she forgot – either genuinely or not – his name, then he would know he had misread their first encounter. That he had mistaken her friendliness for flirting. Maybe she flirted with every new patron the way she did with him, so that she left an impression, and they might return, as he had. It didn’t matter, it wasn’t as though Gladio was hung up on her, he actually thought it a smart tactic, to try and get more business. Why shouldn’t she use her womanly wiles?

“What kind of dumbass request is that, Gladiolus?” The teasing smile returned with the extra emphasis on his name.

Gladio laughed, “I did say that I like to leave an impression, Isla.”

She chuckled, rolled her eyes, and crooked her head in the direction of the bar, walking a few steps ahead of him. Just like that, the tense air between them began to thaw. Gladio sat on one side of the bar while Isla went around and grabbed a couple of bottles. She uncapped them, and handed one to Gladio as she came to sit at the bar with him, keeping a stool between them.

“So, what brings you back to my little slice of Insomnia?” Isla asked, taking a sip from the neck of her bottle. Gladio did the same. It wasn’t beer she handed him, it was water, ice cold, and refreshing. It was too early for beer, anyway.

“Can’t a guy just want to return to a nice bar, that serves a decent beer?” retorted Gladio, smiling into his bottle. “I like this place.”

Isla watched him, “and you came in the middle of the day because…?”

“I’m a day drinker.”

She chuckled, a little wearily, into her bottle before taking a drink. When she was done, Gladio watched her wipe sweat off her forehead. The bar was uncomfortably warm, despite the main door being wide open to try and get some air in. “I hate being sweaty.”

“Moving crates will do that.”

“And the fun isn’t over yet!” She forced the sound of enthusiasm into her voice and slipped off her stool. Gladio watched her go behind the bar and begin to decant bottles from crates. She appeared to have a system, grouping beer together, spirits, soft drinks, liquors, and wine. She checked the fridges under the bar for numbers, putting aside what she needed from the first crate, and putting what she didn’t need back into it.

“You do this every day?” asked Gladio, leaning on the bar.

“Couple of times a week.” She replied, not looking up from her task. “I get deliveries from all over. Today was from Duscae, on Thursday it’ll be a delivery from Accordo, and every two weeks, I get a delivery from Lestallum.”

“And you do this? Every delivery?”

“Sixteen hour days, baby.”

“Just you?”

“Most of the time.” Isla shrugged, “delivery is a biggie today. I asked one of the wait staff to come in an hour before opening to help out; but it’s usually just lil ol’ me and the jukebox.”

“That sounds--”

“It’s the norm.” She cut him off, “and it’s what I have to do to keep this place going. We barely make enough to break even, so I can’t pay the other members of staff to come in an’ help more than an hour here or there. Why do you think I offered you a drink to say thanks, rather than gil?”

“You didn’t have to give me anything,” replied Gladio. “I’m happy to help.”

“I didn’t even ask you.”

“I know.”

She leaned on the counter, “doing your good deed for the day?”

Gladio mirrored her, “that’s me. Regular boy scout. No ulterior motives here.

“I would never suspect ulterior motives,” Isla mock-gasped. “You’re as pure as the driven snow, clearly. You just happened to be passing this way. I’m sure it was completely en route to your actual task.”

“Exactly right.” Gladio drank from his bottle again, lowering his eyes and feeling a warmth settle in his chest despite the cold liquid he drank. She might have been being playful, but there was a warning underneath that thinly veiled amusement. Perhaps some other one-off patrons had come by again with ulterior motives and she was simply telling him, without words, that she was watching him. Or, he could have been reading too much into it, and her words were innocuous and innocent.

He decided not to dwell. He finished the last of his drink and stepped down from the stool. Isla was on the third crate now, moving the ones she was done with to a table. He went to the table and picked up one crate. “Where do these go?”

She stood arrow straight, rising from squatting position faster than anyone Gladio had ever seen. “I…” She stared at him. Eyes darting from him, to the crate, and back more than once. “Why are you offering to help? Don’t you have better things to be doing?”

“No.” Gladio shrugged, “and I’m offerin’ cause you look like you could use a hand.”

Isla crossed her arms, “I don’t know you from the man on the street. An’ you don’t know me from him either.”

“Your point being…?” Gladio would have crossed his arms too, if he wasn’t already holding something. “You want the help, or not?”

“I can’t pay you.”

“Not everything needs payment.”

“Hah.” Snorted Isla, “it does in my line of work.” He watched as she ran her fingers across her forehead, as if warding off a headache. Waiting, he adjusted the crate in his hands and shifted.

“So?”

“Down in the cellar.” Isla relinquished and walked to another door. She pushed it open and used a wooden door wedge to stop it closing on itself. “I’d be a moron to turn down free help when its offered, so… I guess…” She looked him up and down, as if, for the first time taking in his height, his build, and also the fatigues he wore and the subtle symbolism of the Crownsguard that adorned it. “Just this once, Wonder Boy, alright? I don’t want to be gettin’ used to it.”

“Just say thank you.” Gladio said, moving passed her and to the door. He saw a corridor, and steps leading down.

Isla dropped her gaze, “thanks.”

It took an hour to get all the crates down into the cellar, and for Gladio and Isla to arrange them in the right places for organization. Afterwards, upstairs, Isla gave him another drink and started to tidy up the bar itself. She cleaned off the counter, though it was already spotless, and started to polish the draught handles for the beer barrelled and on tap down in the cellar. She put the jukebox on to fill the quiet of the bar, and Gladio drank in silence.

This time it was a beer. Something light, and with a taste like honey and apples. Pleasant. Not something Gladio would have ordinarily selected himself. Putting faith in Isla’s choices and judgement of what he might enjoy paid off again. He would have to make it a habit. He watched her stretch up to turn the glasses on an over head shelf so they all faced the right way. Parts of her t-shirt were discoloured with sweat.

“Sixteen hour days, huh?”

Isla turned to him, as if surprised he had spoken. “Every day.”

“Days off?”

“If only.” Her lips moved into a wry smile. “I’m here from nine or ten in the morning until after midnight. I have to make sure this place is tidy, and clean, and up to snuff to compete with the other places next door and nearby. Because this place is so small, I have to try three times as hard to make it profitable, without making it – as my parents would say – tacky. Hence no bright lights, no super expensive sound system, no dancers, or food,” she ran her fingers back through her ponytail. “It’s harder than it sounds.”

“What about your parents? You said they ran this place before you.”

“Yeah, and that was before the big restaurants and trendy bars opened. A much simpler time when the nearest competition with a coupla streets away. Now it’s…” She sighed, and huffed her hair out of her face, “it’s a challenge.��

“You said they’re in Altissia? For their health, or something?” Gladio wiped the condensation off his bottle.

“Yeah. They’re both getting on a bit. The sea air helps.”

“No siblings to help?”

“Nope.” She leaned her hip on the bar, “sometimes I think they only had one kid out of necessity. So, that kid could carry on the legacy of this place.” Her voice dropped a little and a frown marred her features. Gladio watched her wring a cloth in her hands. “This place was more my home growin’ up than home was, y’know? When I would finish school, I’d come here cause I wasn’t allowed to stay home alone. So, I’d be in the back, trying to do homework, and my parents would come out to ask me to help out. Serve tables, clean up, whatever needed doin’. It’s been sorta ingrained since I was young that this was going to be my life.”

“And…” Gladio allowed his voice to drag a little, “you don’t want that?”

“It wouldda been nice to have been asked, is all.” Isla told him, flashing a wry grin, then she sighed. “Not that I should be complainin’. There are people who have it way worse than me. At least I have a livelihood and a roof over my head.” She straightened her body, squaring her shoulders. “’Sides, you didn’t come here to hear me bitch and moan about my lot in life, so I’mma shut up.” She mimicked zipping her mouth closed, locking her lips together and throwing away an imaginary key.

Gladio had the distinct impression she had touched on some sensitive ground, and she was uncomfortable talking about it. Let alone talking to him – someone she had met only twice and barely knew. Gladio knew that feeling. Just being around her and he was content. She talked easily, was easy to talk to and when there was silence, she let it settle. Only that first silence had been awkward. While he drank his beer and she cleaned, the silence had been comfortable between them.

“You haven’t told me much about you,” Isla said, after a few seconds.

That was true.

But then, he didn’t talk about himself at the best of times, and he knew that if he started talking about himself, her easy going attitude would make him comfortable enough to drop his guard. He didn’t want to do that. So far they had avoided talking about him. He presumed she might have guessed he was a member of the Crownsguard, just from his clothing – but she knew nothing else. He liked it that way. If she knew more she might act differently, or feel uncomfortable. There was a difference between knowing someone was a member of the Crownsguard, and knowing that someone was almost always one step away from the Crown Prince, or the King himself.

She continued after a moment of silence where he didn’t respond, “or are you just Gladiolus: man of mystery! The strong, silent, buff type?”

He laughed, lifting his eyes to meet hers. “It’s Gladio.”

Isla stood back a little, brows raised, “you said it was Gladiolus.”

“It is, but only my dad calls me that. And only when I’m in the deepest of deep shit,” he explained with an easy smile which broadened when she tried to conceal her own laughter and failed. “Gladio is fine.”

Isla leaned on the counter opposite him, far enough over that her elbow touched his.  “Alright then, Gladio.” She smiled at him, and it was not a fleeting smile. It lingered, reaching her eyes and becoming more than simply an expression on her face – it looked almost like a coy invitation.

Gladio held his breath feeling a spark there, crackling between them, charging the air with a powerful intangible energy. He could kiss her. Was that what she wanted? They’d flirted back and forth, and with how close she was, the look in her eyes, that seemed to be what she wanted. He could have been wrong, of course. Misreading the situation, her body language, and simply reacting to impulsiveness and urges he felt. He didn’t move, letting the air between them crackle and the tension grow.

His phone was his saving grace, trilling from his pocket it snapped him from his stupor with its happy, mechanical tune. As he pushed away from the bar to answer it, he released the breath he was consciously holding and Isla returned to her tidying.

He saw his sister’s picture on the screen and answered.

“Hey Gladdy!”

“Hey…”

Iris chatted animatedly down the phone, clearly missing the way Gladio’s replies were stilted. She was calling to remind him of an errand he needed to run for their father, and to ask if he could pick something up for Noctis while he was out. To everything she said, Gladio gave confirmation and avoided answering questions about where he was, or when he would be back. After bidding his sister goodbye, he slipped his phone back into his pocket and saw Isla watching him, head to one side as if questioning without words if everything was okay.

The charged air between them had fizzled away.

“It’s nothing,” he answered her unspoken question, “just my sister reminding me I some stuff I need to do.”

“Ah,” Isla said, “Well, that’s fair. I’ve kept you long enough, anyways. Thanks for your help today, I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.” Gladio finished off the last of his beer and held the bottle out for Isla to take, so not to leave a water ring on her polished counter. She took it with a small, thankful grin, the tips of her fingers brushing his.

“Thanks.”

Gladio nodded to her and checked his pockets. “I’ll see ya.”

“See ya ‘round, Wonder Boy.”

He laughed aloud at that, and left.

Do they even have boy scouts in Eso? I tried to think of an FFXV equviliant, but failed. Uhhh, hope you enjoyed my second offering to the FFXV fandom. I’m still getting to grips with writing Gladio, so forgiveness is asked if he seems out of character. 

Please reblog, comment, tag, anything - and let me know what you think. All appreciated. <3