#and I’m meant to ask about some leave during summer but the idea of making a request today is just

[tarantula-hawk-wasp]

I’m really not doing well and it’s mainly bc I’ve been sick for 7 weeks and bronchitis makes me so useless in the evenings and stressed and miserable that I end up letting my life spiral completely out of control and the anxiety is worsened by having breathing problems but that makes it harder to pick of the pieces of things I procrastinated using illness as an excuse and now once again I’ve created a mess that I have to clean up while I’m just as sick as when these problems started

[iheartmapi]

ARCADE ANTICS

Mapi x Fem! Reader

Summary: As Barça’s current season is ended you and Mapi leave for Ibiza, together you decide to go on a date at the Game Arcade nearby.

TW: possible bad translated Spanish, one mention of a seizure, slightly suggestive at the end.

Fluff.

Word count: 1,545.

Together with Mapi you had decided on taking a trip to Ibisa, in a way celebrating finally having some free time to yourselves since this season has ended. You two wasted no time beating around the bush and packed everything that was necessery for your journey.

As expected the weather on Ibiza was nothing but hot during the summer, most of your time there was spent lounging together on a Yacht, drinking in the golden sunlight and each others company.

As of now you were laying comfortably on a plush lounge chair on the Yacht’s terrace, your sunglasses perched on your face while the sun kissed the uncovered skin of your body and face. You closed your eyes and sighed softly, listening in to the sound of the waves gently rolling over and seagulls screeching somewhere in the distance. The short moment of your intense concentration was finished when you felt the familiar touch of one’s soft hand upon your shoulder, you opened your eyes and turned your head to look at your girlfriend, Mapi was holding two bottles of what seemed to be some juice.

“Thirsty, Tesoro?” Mapi asked with a silly smile gracing her gorgeous face. Her damn smiles were quite literally contagious, because no matter the situation whenever you saw the ends of her lips curling upwards something in you just instinctively made you smile as well. “Can’t lie, I am” you answered, Mapi just handed you the bottle meant for you before moving along to sit down on your lounge chair, you immediately sat up to make some space for her. Your pupils swiftly moved across the letters on the juices label, “blueberry and pomegranate”, it read, classic but with a dash of avant-garde with the pomegranate element. You popped off the bottle cap and took a test sip, it was pretty tasty, a sweet and tart mix. “These are quite tasty, we’ll definitely have to get more” you started watching as Mapi sipped on her own juice as well, “Obviously, after all I only ever pick out good things” Mapi rolled her eyes playfully, “You sure about that?” You raised an eyebrow still smiling “Don’t you remember that God awful hard candy you brought home that one time?” Mapi puffed out her chest “Are you going to bring that up till my last days? My good taste disappointed only one time!” She defended herself, “I’m sure there were many more times-“ before you could finish Mapi cut in “Cállate la boca!” ‘Shut up!’ she laughed, “Alright…sorry Mapi, I trust your good taste a 100%” you chuckled, leaning in closer to her, “That’s what I like to hear” she answered.

Your arms wrapped around Mapi, resting your head on her shoulder as the two of you embraced one another, “You know I was thinking…” Mapi started in a quiet voice “I wanna take you out, like on a date” that caught your interest “Oh yeah? Any particular idea you’ve got?” You asked, “There’s this Game Arcade, it’s pretty nearby actually” Mapi added, you raised your head, now looking straight into her eyes “Game Arcade? Wow…pretty 80’s Mapi” you joked, “What are you calling me old-fashioned? I’ll have you know Arcades are FULL of fun” She put her hand on her chest feigning being offended for dramatics, you couldn’t help but laugh at your girlfriends humorous antics, you patted her arm “I was just joking babe” after a moment you added “I know if we’re thinking fun then you’re the person to go to” Mapi smiled at your comment “I’m flattered, querida”

You spent some extra minutes together on the yacht before changing into some fresh clothes and heading for the Arcade. Together, you and Mapi walked through the streets hand in hand talking about everything and nothing..occasionally pointing out some places and views you passed by which you’d definitely want to visit some time. Finally after a not very long period of walking you arrived in front of a medium sized building, it generally didn’t stand out too much save for a couple of game posters in front and a neon coloured sign that said “LA ARCADA” in a funky font. Mapi turned to face you, “What about this…we’ll play some games and whoever loses buys dinner today” she challenged you, you raised an eyebrow before smirking and shaking her hand “Deal.”

The two of you entered the building, inside you could really feel the spirit of the 80’s, the walls were dark as well as the flooring and dim lighting, neons flashed everywhere, emanating from the countless of Arcade cabinets, you looked over at Mapi, you could tell that right now she must’ve felt like a little kid in a candy store, she was observing every corner of the Arcade with clear excitement in her eyes, “Come on let’s play something!” She pulled on your hand, dragging you to the game machines. The two of you stopped at a random one, you took your place and Mapi did hers, carefully you pressed “begin” and the screen faded to reveal the first level of the game, it seemed to be a simple 8-bit type of game where you walked around some dungeons and fought with monsters. You and Mapi began your rivalry, playing the games and talking with each other, mostly making comments about the game…About good 10 minutes later you and her reached the final level..the summary that flashed on the screens revealed you to be the winner of this round, “Aw look at that…I think I’ll be getting free dinner today” you teased, Mapi just rolled her eyes “Bite your tongue, you’ll see I WILL beat your ass in the end” Mapi then took hold of your hand again, you walked through the countless aisles filled with bright flashing machines…soon you felt Mapi poking your arm “Babe! Look! Isn’t that one of those dance machines?! Come on I need to try that one out!!” She stated, her excitement rising unbelievably.

Mapi took her place, reading the neon-purple coloured instructions that were on the screen, afterwards when she seemed to get the hang of what you were supposed to do she looked at you over her arm “It’ll be fun trust me!” She urged you, you couldn’t deny her…especially not when she was being so adorable being happy over a simple Arcade game. Many fits of laughter followed after the two of you started the games, the first time on those things was definitely something else..ultimately Mapi won that one.

Now you two were back on the prowl searching for fun games again, your eyes scanned everything, but it’s fair to say that all of that technology gave you a slight colour seizure…then you saw what appeared to be a game of Donkey Kong, “Hey Mapi, you intrested in that one?” You pointed over at the cabinets, Mapi nodded and you made your way over to the final game of this date. “Well Mapi…let’s see who’ll buy dinner today” you giggled “You better get your wallet ready now” Mapi answered with an almost Cheshire grin on her face.

It was three minutes into the game, you and Mapi were so focused and passionate about this game, “What?! That’s not fair I dodged that barrel!” Mapi yelled frustrated that something seemed to bug a little, “Games not about being fair my love” you joked laughing at her outburst…the ultimatum was that..Mapi won somehow, after the summed up points flashed on the screens she turned to you with a wide smirk, “I told you!” She started hysterically jumping up and down and also humming some funny little winners chant of hers…the sight amused you, but in the best way possible, after all her happiness as your happiness..even if it meant you paying for dinner today. “Alright Champ…it’s time for dinner isn’t it?” You linked hands and made your way out of the weirdly old but fun place. For a quick moment you stood still together thinking of a place to eat at. “What about that place we passed by earlier? I believe it was called Tapas y Vino or something like that..” you suggested, Mapi thought for a second before agreeing “I think that’ll be great, guapa”. With that your ending destination of this little date was the restaurant.

You took a seat in the small garden area of the restaurant (of course you paid for the meal as you agreed) enjoying the now setting sun of Ibiza with Mapi while eating a hearty dinner..quiet jazz music and people’s conversations filled your ears, the sky was fading from an orange-y colour to a more violet one, the view looked beautiful but you were sure that the most breathtaking one was seated in front of you, her mouth stained with some sauce from her meal as she joked about the game Arcade from earlier..maybe she was a goofball, but she was your goofball and you were the happiest to have her in your life. And so you conversed, laughing and smiling. Mapi gave you a piece of her dish when you asked her about how she was enjoying it, you chewed the food..raising your brows ever so slightly.

“It’s actually quite delicious…not as delicious as you though”

“For Christ’s sake we’re in public…”

[pearlmagick]

IRON BONDS II

pairing : harry potter x reader

synopsis : harry discovers your secret and helps you gain some confidence while also discovering his own boldness.

warnings : mentions of blood , drinking blood

notes : just to clarify, pale does not mean light skin only in this fic !! the word in context is meant be portrayed as your skin tone just without blood.

Over the months, Harry carefully analysed your every move like a secret, obsessive hobby. Could he have simply asked you what had troubled you? Of course, he could, but he had a feeling you would let yourself wallow in your stress by yourself, a feeling he had experience with.

He noted your weariness during the day and the nearly unnoticeable shake of your fingers as you drank your regular “cranberry juice” every dinner. “It’s good for the immune system.” you’d always say when Ron questioned why you drank the tangy liquid so frequently. Your answer sounded almost rehearsed to the trained ears of Harry Potter, who knew the timbre of your voice when you usually chattered about things that interested you.

One night, he strolled the grounds, rubbing the bandages wrapped around his bleeding hand. The consequences of disobeying Umbridge left bloody splotches seeping through the white. His own issues were put behind him when he saw you sitting next to the lake.

Your skin was paled, as though all the warmth in you had chilled. Your eyes seemed brighter under the moonlight and the way your hair contrasted with your skin seemed supernatural.

“Y/N?’ Harry called out. Your hair whipped in the wind as you turned towards him. You, in all your horrific glory, were fully on display to the single person that you wished would never catch you.

Harry’s hand reached out for yours and he felt the cold jolt his system but still held on. His eyebrows cinched closer together, asking the question unspoken. “Summer before fourth year, remember when I couldn’t go to the World Cup with you and the Weasleys?” Harry nodded. “I couldn’t go with you because… because a vampire attacked me. My parents fought back so he didn’t kill me and I just became this. I became a monster. I’ve tried hiding it with charms and potions, changing my teeth and making my skin look normal but it wears off and there’s no cure.” You turned to the moonlight, your eyes glowing from the tears rather than the golden-red halo around your pupils. “I wish he just finished me off that night.”

Your confession felt like another weight had sat on your chest; the weight was lifted almost immediately when Harry pulled you towards him, the warm scents of his freshly laundered shirt and wood enveloped you as his embrace pulled you into a new, more comfortable trance. “I understand why you didn’t tell me but I would never leave you. You’re my best friend, Y/N. I promise I’m not scared. You’ve been trying to control all this by yourself so please, let me help you now.”

Your tears flowed more freely now that you had the assurance that Harry wasn’t going to run away from you; he was here to stay.

The two of you spent the night whispering about your bloody situation. “So, the cranberry juice?” You chuckled and dipped your fingers into the lake, racing to trace the ripples that formed. “Yeah, I couldn’t lie about it being pomegranate juice since I’ve already said I hate pomegranates, but it’s actually cow blood. I haven’t tried human blood before. I thought about it loads of times, but I get afraid that I can’t control myself once I start.”

Harry’s impulsive nature struck as he gave his wild suggestion, ‘I’ve got a pretty fresh wound that I haven't put in murtlap essence yet. Why not drink some of my blood?” If your body had any warmth, you would be burning from the bold yet casual tone in which he delivered his idea.

Unbeknownst to you, Harry’s every nerve prickled with nervousness. What if he was too bold? What if you shot down his idea? What if you didn’t feel as close to him as he does to you?

His last reflection was a new flavour in the soupy mess his thoughts were becoming by the second.

Before he could fully analyse every memory he had with you appearing at the forefront of his mind and how it made him feel, he was thrown off balance by your answer. “I could try.”

Harry saw your hesitation in your pursed lips as if the action would hold off your vampirism entirely. He took the initiative and unwrapped his bandage, bringing his still-bleeding hand close to your lips.

The smell of human blood was enticing and your eyes shifted to a deeper shade of red before you took the leap and drank the small drops of blood that seeped out steadily from the cuts. The metallic taste from Harry’s blood left sweet notes on your palette rather than the rusty cow’s blood you drank. In that moment, you could have drained the boy of all the blood in his body but you regained the restraint you had built over the months and let go of his hand. Harry couldn’t help but smile, “You see, I knew you could do it.” You smiled in return, your pearlescent fangs charming Harry the longer he took in your grin of pride.

The longer you sat there, enjoying each other’s company, the stronger Harry’s confidence was becoming. His boldness had already been a success once, there was a chance that maybe another stroke of impulsiveness would lead to something he didn’t realise he’d been waiting for.

“Y/N?” Harry asked. You hummed in response. “How do you feel about a date?”

[meganslife]

Pen pals - p. parker

TASM! Peter Parker x Fem! reader

summary: peter parker is your pen pal.

warnings: none so far!!!

hello helloooo!!! i had this idea because i myself have a pen pal, and it’s honestly really fun and reminds me of peter. this will be multiple parts!! anyhoo, happy reading!

Having a pen pal was fun. It gave you something to look forward to whenever you needed to open the mailbox. It was nice, although your lovely pen pal, Peter, was on the other side of the country. You were in Seattle. He was in Queens, New York. It was a nice arrangement that you two had. No phone numbers, just handwritten letters, and cute little pictures.

When you opened your apartment mailbox and saw that you had a letter from Peter, your heart felt warm. It was the warmest you’ve felt in a while.

Y/N,

My apologies for not writing you back sooner. School is kicking my butt recently, and I moved back in with May (hence why a new address is on the envelope). My old roommate went BALLISTIC on me for little things, so I decided I needed to leave. May is a better person to have around, anyway.

The fall semester ended last week, and I wish I could say that I passed my finals. My professors are just mean, I think. I’ve been super stressed out lately, and writing this letter is helping me. You’re my savior. Also, the pictures you sent me of you in Tennessee are amazing. You should be a model! I’m sure you hear that a lot because of how pretty you are;)

I hope it’s not too cold in Seattle. I took some pictures of random things I thought you’d like, maybe that’ll distract you from how cold it is. I know how much you hate the cold. (You chose the wrong place to live!)

Anyhoo, I’m sorry this letter is short. My wrist is cramping up and May needs help with dinner. Write back as soon as you can.

Much love,

Peter ♥

Photo one: Peter in an obnoxiously large New Year’s Eve hat, grinning from ear to ear with his friend(?)

Photo two: A Polaroid of stray cats bonding in what you assume is Peter’s front yard.

Photo three: A Polaroid of Peter that was clearly taken by May. Peter is holding a tray of muffins, and he looks really stupid in his apron.

You get to writing him a letter right away.

Dear Peter,

I love the pictures. I’ll add them to my growing collection on my wall:)

My day has been so shitty. I wish you were here. It gets lonely, sometimes. I have friends, I’ve told you very little about them. They’re great, don’t get me wrong, but living alone is just lonely. Maybe I should get a cat or something. I need something to come home to. (Sorry for making this portion of the letter sad. I just needed someone to talk to.)

The weather in Queens looks nice. You’re awfully lucky, Peter. It’s cold and slushy here. I’m cold to the bone. Like, nothing will warm me up. It’s annoying. I just want it to be summer again. I hate being pale and cold.

I don’t have any pictures as of right now, so I’m sorry about that. I have some drawings I could give you.

My letter is short too, so I guess we’re even. I need to nap the sadness away.

Cold and loving,

Y/N ♥

~

The next letter you receive from Peter is about a week later.

My dearest Y/N,

I’m so sorry you aren’t feeling well.

I know we said we wouldn’t exchange phone numbers, and I respect that, but I just need to give you mine. I need to. Just in case. I don’t want you to be sad and lonely and have to wait for my letters to come. I like you. I like you A LOT– And I honestly want to meet you in person but that’s a conversation for another day. I’ve been saving up for it. Maybe you should come during the spring? You’d love it here, I know it. Or I could come to you? Whatever, we can talk about it more over the phone.

My phone number:

(718)-XXX-XXXX

Call me;)

Love always,

Peter ♥

You immediately spring up to your feet and grab your phone. Your hands were shaking as you dialed the number and called it, praying he wouldn’t think it was a spam call.

“Pete?” You ask, voice higher than you meant it to be.

Boyish laughter erupts on the other end of the line, and you already know that it’s Peter. Of course, his laugh would sound so sweet.

“Hi, lovie.”

[bluebellhairpin]

Thou So Long Hast Mourn'd

Bruce Wayne X Batmom!Reader

Summary: After Jason's passing, your grief and anger combined causes you to leave Gotham - swearing only to return when you have a perfect chance to kill the Joker for what he did to your son. (Part 2 to 'Hell Hath No Fury')

Warnings: Loss and Grief (Mentions of a funeral and repeated mentions of Jason dying. We miss Mumma's Boy Jay a lot :( ). Bad coping mechanisms all round. Clark Kent acts as a marital buffer. (Reader is fem coded; has she/her pronouns; is referred to as ‘wife’ multiple times. Has the hero name of 'Valentine'.)

Listening to: 'Skyfall' By Adele - "I know I'd never be me without the security of your loving arms keeping me from harm."

Series Masterlist || Masterlist || Ko-Fi

Yes, thou shalt know, spite of thy past Distress, - 

Jason’s funeral was attended by a very small number of people. Yourself, Bruce, Dick, and Alfred all front and center. 

For days, weeks, the media pestered asking question after question. “A tragic accident.” Commissioner Gordon would reply. It became you answer too, like a well-rehearsed prayer. 

A tragic accident. Tragic. Accidental tragedy. Accident. 

Except it was no such accident. Someone killed Jason. A man, who still walked free, murdered your son. 

Even now, a month after you buried the child, as you sat listening to rain pat against the window panes in Wayne Manor, you remembered what you’d told Bruce the night he brought Jason home for the last time. 

“I’m going to kill him.” you said. “I’m going to kill the Joker.” You told Bruce you’d do what you’d vowed to never do again. You promised yourself to avenge your son, to make sure no one else would ever lose a child to that monster ever again. 

Ever since that night you’d felt a wedge slide between you and Bruce. Dick, only sixteen and having lost the closest thing he had to a brother was feeling it - you could see it on his face, and they way he held his shoulders at dinner. How you were feeling, how little Bruce was doing about it - none of it was doing Dick any good. 

Aside from the anger, you didn’t know how you were feeling. You never thought you’d ever be a mother - you had no idea what to do to help anyone. So you left. 

Bruce was out on patrol - he dove into Batman head first, a bitter feeling in your stomach had you thinking he was compensating. Dick was out - gymnastic practice, which Alfred was in charge of tonight. You were left alone in a huge house, and you couldn’t stand to stay there any longer. 

A small bag was packed with basics - clothes, cash, a few weapons from the cave, and a single family photo taken while on vacation just that past summer (stolen from its frame and folded into a jacket pocket close to your heart). As you walked past the main living space, you stopped, and looked up towards the item hanging above the fireplace. 

The sword - Excalibur - a god-given gift to humankind to exact true justice, now resting as a collectors antique catching dust. You knew if you took it that you would be able to do what you needed to. During your time using it there was no greater pull than to execute Joker - yet something always stopped you. 

You knew it was Bruce. 

Even already, your own guilt over what you meant to do wouldn’t let you take it with you. 

Naturally, on that night, Alfred brought Dick was home first. It was already nine thirty, and while Dick would be up for a long while, he knew the boy wasn’t sleeping proper anymore. 

Alfred sent him up to his room anyway, reassuringly with a hand on his shoulder, telling him to go try and get some rest. 

But Alfred knew something wasn’t right in the Manor the moment he stepped inside. It was too quiet. Like it had been empty as long as they’d been away - even though he knew full well you should’ve been there to keep the house alive. 

Although not trained, the butler had a sixth sense for a lot of things - he was a natural at whatever he sent his mind to (in his youth it was acting, and hence so seeing through lies and reading rooms (for improvisation, obviously) went with it). He set out to find you. Looked in all the usual places, and the unusual ones, in the big rooms and the small ones. 

In the last week or so you’d taken to spending time sitting in the walk-in-fridge. He worried about you a lot. While Dick still had school and his friends, and Bruce threw himself into Batman, you only really had yourself. It wasn’t healthy. 

But no matter how much he looked, or where he looked, you were nowhere to be found - not in the house, nor in the grounds. You’d said nothing about going out when he left, he would’ve remembered. In a last ditch effort to find you, he looked in one last place. 

But you hadn’t been in the Batcave since Jason came home. 

It was there, as he walked down a set of stairs, that he noticed a piece of paper haphazardly taped to one of the center computer monitors. 

He grabbed it, and flipped it open, reading quietly to himself the words inside, scrawled in your handwriting. 

‘Bruce, Don’t look, you know I won’t let you find me. I’m going to do something you will hate me for - probably forever. I can’t keep living like this knowing Jason’s killer is out there killing more mother’s sons. Take care of Dickie. Don’t take Alfred for granted.’

The older man found himself sinking into the chair beside him.

He had a hunch this was coming - he wasn’t in the cave the night Bruce brought Jason home, instead at the time he was upstairs taking a call from an excited Dick who was recalling his day spent doing a treasure hunt around Blüdhaven for a school camp trip that lasted the whole week. Alfred had no idea how you first reacted - he didn’t know how Bruce reacted to your reaction. 

He knew it wasn’t good. Especially since in your note you didn’t even say goodbye to your husband. 

You’d been hiding in a place you knew Bruce wouldn’t ever look - he always hated visiting Metropolis, the city was too bright.  

You knew no one there would snitch on you - most didn’t even recognize you, and the one person who did, conveniently the man who was the closest thing Bruce had to a best friend, wouldn’t ever snitch on you. Not for this. 

‘I needed a break,’ you’d lied, ‘Couldn’t handle being in Gotham after…’ You never finished, and you knew Clark could see through a lie like glass - but the grief he could see. He could also see the anger simmering underneath. He never called you out for it though. 

You’d been there a while, waiting, watching Gotham from a distance Bruce wouldn’t see you from. You kept tabs mostly on Batman - although interviews with Bruce having to explain where his wife went were entertaining (in a sick, satisfying way). Sometimes you were sick, others you were out of town, most times you ‘weren’t feeling up to it’ - the latter two would be closest to the truth, not that he’d know that. 

You often looked fondly at whatever information came though about Dick - he took out the gymnastics first place for his age bracket in the Gotham state. The picture made your heart ache - his smile was wide and toothy, but even though your printed newspaper you could tell it wasn’t reaching his eyes. 

Who you were watching most, though, was the Joker. You combed through old reports and new ones. Even called up Harley Quinn a few times, just to get a perspective on him from someone who was - at one point - much closer to him. She asked you why you wanted to know. 

“I need to know.” 

“O-kay. And where exactly have you been Val?” she’d said, voice crackling down the hotel landline, “You ain’t locking yourself up in that Mansion are ya?” 

“No. I’m not in Gotham right now.” 

“So what’s even the Joker to ya if you ain’t even here huh?” 

“When I come back,” you said, “I’m going to kill him.” 

You became a Joker expert in almost one night.

You got a late night visitor less than a week after that phone call. Clad in red and blue, with a gaudy cape and that stupid ringlet you and Bruce would always bitch about on late nights under bed covers. 

You were a little happy to see Clark - you actually had nothing against him, it was all just in jest (or solidarity because Bruce was your husband). He was let in pretty quickly. Mostly to avoid questions from the nosey couple who’d been staying in the room next to yours for the past three days. 

He stood around awkwardly while you watched him from the seat next to the room’s microwave, posture screaming Clark Kent, journalist, even though he looked like Superman, world-know superhero. 

“I’m, uh -” he started after you stared at him hard, wordlessly willing him to speak, “- I’m worried. I think you should go back to Gotham soon. To Bruce, specifically.” 

“And why’s that?” He looked at you like you’d just said you had Kryptonite in your pocket. 

“Because you’re in trouble.” 

“I’m here in Metropolis, I’m with you right now, I couldn’t be in less trouble if I tried.” 

“You know I have super hearing.” he said sheepishly. It was like he was telling his Ma he ran over her peonies with a bicycle. You put two and two together quickly though. 

“You’ve been spying on me?” 

“For me!” He said, stepping back with his palms towards the sky, “I feel better about not telling Bruce if I know what’s going on with you.” 

“And so what part of your spying brought you here tonight?” Both your arms and legs crossed, you could tell from his face he didn't mean for you to get so offensive so quickly. 

“You were talking to Harley Quinn?” 

“Oh that,” you scoffed with a wave of your hand, “Even Bruce does that. She’s not so bad. Taught me how to roller-skate you know.” 

“About the Joker?” 

“That happens often when my husband is being a pain in my ass,” you said, “Reminds me he could be much, much worse.” Clark motioned his head - ‘fair’, but then he returned serious once more. This time it wasn’t a question. 

“You said you were going to kill him.” 

You knew he couldn’t read your mind, but he could hear how your heartbeat picked up. He had to know you knew you’d been caught. He sat down on the edge of the bed, waiting for your answer in the most approachable way he knew in that moment. 

“I’d be doing everyone a favor.” 

“Bruce - I don’t know what he’d do. He could hate you.” 

“I’m sure he hates me right now anyway.” 

“You can’t believe that,” Clark said, looking up at you with blue eyes that almost looked like Bruce’s. “You don’t really believe he hates you right now?” You took a great interest in the patterned carpet. Clark said your name, and you reluctantly looked back at him. 

“He misses you.” 

“I miss my son.” You bit back at him bitterly. His face remained hard. This was suddenly no longer Clark. You were talking to Superman now. 

“I’m not sure how to say this kindly,” Clark said with a firm voice, “But you’re so focused on the child you lost that you’re abandoning the one that’s still here. Bruce misses you, but Dick misses you even more. He doesn’t need to lose another Mom.” 

His stare was hard, stubborn - he wasn’t going to let up. Your stare was hard too - sour and angry, not because you didn't believe him, but because you knew how right he was. 

“I think you can leave now.”

Two weeks later, after a late night grocery run that consisted mostly of chicken noodle cups and instant coffee, you found a lump of black sitting in the dark with its back against the door of your room. 

Clark told Bruce. 

He didn’t seem to notice your approach, but once you stood toe-to-toe with his polished Oxford shoes, you kicked his leg. 

“Get up.” 

His head of messy hair lifted, and when his brain fully processed you - his wife, finally! - standing before him, he almost jumped to his feet. Uncharacteristic of him outside his prior - and now ditched - playboy persona. 

He breathed your name, stepping forward with hands outstretched as if to hug you. You took a step back. Clark, apparently hadn’t told him everything - if he had, he was taking it very, very well. 

“Where’s Dick?” 

“With Alfred,” he said, hands falling to his sides again after you hummed in acknowledgment. You both stood in silence for a while, before you gestured to a door with a full hand. He got the hint, stepping away, then taking the bags away from one hand as you fumbled for your keys. 

The quiet continued as you let yourselves in, you sat the shopping on the bench, and he made himself at home at the table near the door. You sat back down in the microwave chair, the furthest place from him you could be while still staying in the room. 

“Been keeping busy, Bruce?” you asked, he turned to fully face you in his seat. 

“Not really,” he said, “I’ve been looking for you. Never thought you’d be here,” You almost smiled, thinking about how right you were for coming here. Almost. 

“Heard you went to Saudi Arabia while I’ve been gone.” 

“It was nothing. Really.” 

“You couldn’t have been looking too hard if you were able to take a ‘nothing, really’ trip to the Arabian Mountains.” 

“I’m not here to fight with you,” Bruce said, resting a palm on his knee, “I’m here to ask you to come home. We all miss you.” his last words came out very quietly. “It’s been months. Nothings going to get easier if you stay away.” 

“Are you listening to yourself?” you said with a soft scoff, “He who literally spent every single night after Jason died away from home. He who spends every moment he can down in a dark damp cave rather than with his family - I don’t think you get to tell me where I should be.” You felt tears well in your eyes - hot and fat if they fell, but you willed yourself not to let them. Bruce’s shoulders softened, and he stood and walked closer slowly, coming to kneel before you with his fingers just touching yours. 

“We both haven’t been doing well, have we?” his head shook and his voice was barely audible. It was like he was speaking to himself. His admission - finally, his own pride and stubbornness aside, and it made yours disappear like dust in the wind. 

“You need to see my bathroom,” you said. His head cocked, a sly smile twitched onto his lips. 

“Oh?” he said, “And what might I find there?” But you weren’t smiling. You were trying to be honest.

“Just go look.” you said, turning away from him, bringing your hand away. Telling him with your actions that you weren’t going to be talking until he did. 

He stood, opening the bathroom door behind you and flicking on the light. You could feel how still he was. Taking in the room, and what was inside it. 

All across the mirror and walls were taped up newspaper clippings and photos and articles printed off from the library, old and new, a few of him - Batman - but most of the Joker. Beside the toilet was a case - one he knew would hold parts of a rifle (parts he'd seen you pull apart and put back together in a minute flat) - and across the sink were knives and gun magazines. 

Bruce stepped off the carpet and onto the tile. There was a little list in the center of the mirror, written in red and with the last line underlined.

‘Kill the Joker’. 

When he returned to you, he was holding the list in one hand. 

“When were you planning on doing this?” he asked. You weren’t able to meet his eyes when you answered. 

“Whenever I go back to Gotham.” His body went rigid beside you. Audibly, he let out a breath.

“I’ve thought about it too. Just getting rid of him like that.” he admitted, voice quiet and with a rough edge, “But I know it won’t help. It won’t bring him back.” 

“This isn’t about bringing him back. If I knew it could bring Jason back I’d have done it weeks ago.” You looked up at Bruce as you spoke, watching as his face crinkled in disbelief. 

“You’re so serious about this.” 

“How could you still think I’m not serious?” you said, standing to help convince yourself you weren’t as unsure as you felt. “I will do it. A time will come when that monster dies - wherever it is I will be standing by watching.” 

He watched you. Analyzing your face and the way your eyes moved. His face set like stone, hard and sure and you knew he was much more upset now having found out than what he was when you were missing. He took a step back. 

Bruce was moving towards the door. 

“I won’t stop you. I couldn’t bear to.” he turned, hand on the door handle, “But Batman still will.”

As far as you knew, you’d made it back into Gotham City undetected. 

You knew the route’s Bruce - no - Batman, took while out on patrol. You knew the surveillance he constantly would check. You knew because for years you’d helped him do it all. 

Thankfully, you had a not-so-little little helper - Joker assassination aside, Harley was more than happy to put you up for a while. After you’d killed Joker you’d planned to turn tail and leave again - maybe hide someplace in Australia where no one barely goes. It wasn’t like you had to put up with her long anyway. 

Harley was great, but you’d have to love her a whole lot to live with her longer than a week. But you weren’t planning to stay that long. 

You’d tracked Joker to an apartment complex near Arkham - you knew he wouldn’t stay there forever, so you needed to act fast. 

Your weapons of choice were clean and ready to go, your escape routes A through to D were memorized, a hood and bandana combo were acquired to hide your identity long enough for no one around to know it was you. By all means and definitions you were ready to go. 

You left Harley’s place wordlessly. You were sure she didn’t even know you left. 

A cloak and the shadows of night concealed you from most passersby. Slowly, slowly you stalked towards where you knew the Joker to be. When you climbed the fire escape to find your vantage point, you almost didn’t make it all the way there because you saw Him. 

Sitting, lounging. Acting like there was not a single thing in the world to worry about. It made you so angry you could scream, claw your eyes out, you could do so many things all because that man couldn’t care less about your son dying. 

In fact, you didn’t make it to your original vantage point. 

You settled right there, three levels lower than planned, and took the rifle off your shoulder. Clipping on the scope, twisting the silencer on, packing the magazine in. Settled your body into a comfortable position, then raised the gun to look at your target through the scope. 

With greasy green hair and yellow teeth, you watched him smile through the crosshairs. With a sneer you flicked the safety off. You were ready to take the shot.

A flash of red, green and yellow came in front of the Joker. You frowned, confused. Pulling the scope back you looked again with a wider range and saw something that made your heart drop. Someone was tied up and presented to him like a present. 

The Joker had Robin. 

Your Robin. Your son. Your Dick Grayson. 

Suddenly this was more than just a chance to avenge Jason. A switch flicked inside your heart. This wasn’t a chance to avenge Jason anymore; this was you, saving the son you had left. This was you not giving that monster the chance to keep you in black. 

The lethal rifle was ditched right there on the fire escape, not caring if a lowlife found it before you could return. The knives you’d stashed - ‘just in case’ - were now your swords. Their piercing blades becoming the only thing shielding those who stood in your way a feral beating from bare fists. 

No one was standing in your way of taking Dick home safely. 

Your veins pumped white hot, you saw red all over. This was not going to happen a second time. It wasn’t ever going to happen again. 

A goon at the door stood in your way, he was met with a knee to the crotch and a wound to his shoulder to keep him down. More on the stairs were thrown over bannisters. One had his head smashed into the doorway of the Joker’s apartment. Another was given a hard elbow to the back of his neck. 

You weren’t aiming to kill - you were aiming to get them out of your way, and keep them that way. 

When you reached the room which window you saw through, there were only four other people aside from yourself, your son, and that murdering bastard. They all stayed quiet, goons waiting on a call to action from their boss. You missed the way Dick’s eyes widened as he realised his Mom was here. You were busy staring down the Joker, trying to make him feel just how much pure hate you had for him without a single word. 

“Give me Robin,” you said, voice low, venomous. Dangerous. 

“Well if you want him so bad, and since you asked nicely,” His smile spread wide and uncanny. “Come and get him.” 

So you did. 

Like a blur of back and blue, you had all four men either out cold or groaning on the floor. The Joker himself was under your kneeling form with his teeth now stained red and an eyes swollen shut. 

“Listen well because I’ll only say it once.” You said, your hand a rough fist in his hair to make sure he looked into your eyes and saw exactly how much of a threat your promise was. 

“I spared your life today. I will never do it again. I am not the Batman. The next time I find you trying to pull something with one of my Robin’s and you see me coming you'd better run the other way because I will kill you.”

After untying Dick, retrieving your abandoned gear, and throwing Joker into Arkham, you reconvened with Dick on a nearby rooftop. 

You barely stood upright on two legs before he barreled into you, arms thrown around your waist with his face squished right into your collarbone. He’d grown taller in the time you’d been away. You felt tears fall as your arms wrapped around him in kind. 

“I’ve missed you Mom.” he mumbled into your shirt, “Please don’t go away again. Please.” 

A hand raised to the back of his head as you pressed your covered nose into his hair. You took a deep breath with your eyes closed, then opened them, peeling you both apart just enough to take in each other's faces. Even with his mask on you could see how much he was pleading with you to stay.

You brushed his hair away from his face - he needed a haircut soon. 

You wanted to stay, you never wanted to leave him ever again, not after tonight. But would Bruce let you? 

Out the corner of your eye you saw a black drop fall onto the rooftop a little ways off. Batman. He stood, tall and intimidating. In that moment you had half a mind to take a step back even though he made no move closer to you. 

Instead you just held Dick a little tighter. 

Bruce's hand reached out to you, palm open, outstretched, and empty. Waiting for you to take it. 

“I think we can go home now.” he said, “We all can.” Like that, Batman disappeared. Bruce was here. You guessed he bluffed - when it came to you Bruce was always there. 

Things were not going to go back to normal. They weren’t for a while. But the best thing you could do was stay together, all together. As a family. 

Nothing was going to push that away from you again. 

- And all those Ills which thou so long hast mourn'd;

[ageofbajabule]

Roommates | Part One

Danny x F! Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Alcohol, Angst

Roommates Masterlist

Masterlist

Author’s Note: Hey everyone!! This first part of the series is on the shorter side. But I wanted to get it started for you all to get a feel on what it’s about. I really am excited for this series, and I hope you all are as well. Without further ado, enjoy!!🩵

Moving to Nashville was a big step for you. Considering you were leaving everything you knew in such a small town in Michigan. Your family was persistent in trying to make you stay, you had just graduated college and wanted a fresh start. You landed a job in social media management, giving you the option to work remotely. But you opted in working in the office and from home. You liked the idea of being able to sit at home while working, but figured you could use some social engagement during your work day.

However finding a place in Nashville was hard to come by. Considering the apartments in the area were ridiculously priced for rent, and you didn’t have enough money to buy a house. Luckily for you, your friend Josie had a solution to your problem. You and Josie had met in your freshman year of college. You didn’t grow up in the same town as her, you lived in the next school district over.

Her brother Daniel, drummer of Greta Van Fleet, luckily had just bought a home in Nashville. Josie had asked him if you could rent from him until prices went down for you to get a place of your own, he agreed considering Josie would be staying down for the summer. And he also was letting you pay a decent price for renting out a room. In the beginning of June is when you decided to pack up everything you knew and move to Tennessee. Your family wasn’t all that supportive about it, but then again your family wasn’t the greatest…

Josie decided to join you on the drive down, offering to take turns on driving. But you insisted on driving the two of you the whole trip down.

“So, are you excited?” Josie smiled, “I’m excited to start this job, yes, but nervous about living with your brother…” You gave her a half smile. “You’ll be fine, he can just be… Danny.” She giggled softly, you weren’t exactly sure what she meant by that. Considering you only got to meet their parents and never Danny since he was always on the road or in the studio recording. But you’ve heard stories about him.

“I’m just gonna miss you when you head back home after the summer…” Josie looked over at you, “I’ll be sure to visit as often as I can. It is my brother’s place after all.” She smiled, and you nodded. The next couple hours of driving consisted of stopping for gas, getting food and a bathroom break.

You had arrived at Danny's house at around 5 o’clock. Pulling into the driveway, you parked beside his vehicle. Well at least you assumed it was his. Both you and Josie got out of your vehicle grabbing your bags and belongings to bring inside. Josie had knocked on the door, waiting patiently then Danny had opened the door. He smiled big, a beautiful smile to say the least he immediately pulled his sister in for a hug. “There’s my little sis.” He chuckled softly, hugging her tightly. “If you hug me any tighter I’m gonna die from suffocating.” Josie patted him on the back playfully.

He then released her, “Sorry. I’ve just missed you. How was the drive down here?” He looked at her not really paying mind to you. “The drive was fine, but let’s not forget. This is Y/N. Y/N, Danny, Danny, Y/N.” She smiled softly introducing you both. “Hi, it's nice to meet you. I really do appreciate you letting me stay here until I get my own place.” You put your hand out to shake his. He made a half smile, shaking your hand loosely. “Anything for my sister’s friends.” His lip curled.

You smiled softly, but felt awkward. As if you were being a bother to him, was he really okay with you staying? Maybe he is just having an off day you thought to yourself.

“Let me show you to your room.” Danny picked up some of your belongings to help carry them. You smiled and followed behind him as Josie was right behind you. “You have a lovely home…” You commented to Danny. “Thanks, it's been a long time coming… I’m grateful for all of it.” You could tell there was a smile on his face by the tone of his voice. After following him upstairs and down the hall you were greeted to your bedroom. It was larger than the one you had back in Michigan. “Well, here you are. There is a walk-in closet. And the bathroom is down the hall to the right. And if I’m ever in there before you, there is another full bathroom off from the kitchen.” He smiled at you, “I’ll let you get to it and unpack.” He then nodded at Josie and left the room.

You smile at Josie. “Thank you for talking to him… I honestly wouldn’t know what to do without you.” You giggled softly starting to unpack your clothes placing them in the closet. “Please, I knew he would agree. I’m sure it gets lonely for him here when the guys aren’t around…” She started to help you unpack. “Well he seems a little off about me staying here. Are you sure he is really okay with it?” Josie walked up beside you, “Danny might be a little thrown off or even closed off. But he’ll warm up, I know he will. Just give it time.” She hugged you sideways and continued to help.

You nodded and just continued to focus on unpacking. After about a good hour and a half you finally finished unpacking your belongings and made your bedroom look like it was yours. Between hanging up some photos, and setting plants up. It was nice to have everything all put together. That’s when you heard a knock on the door, “Hey, the guys are going out tonight for bowling and drinks. You both want to tag along?” Josie responded rather quickly to Danny, “We would love to go. It’s about time I get some redemption.” She laughed, “Yeah, we’ll see about that.” He chuckled, “We’ll leave around 8.” He then left the room.

“What if I wanted to stay in?” You looked over at Josie with your arms crossed in a joking manner. “Oh loosen up! Besides, you have to meet the guys. They are hilarious when all together, especially when they’re drinking.” She smiled, you nodded. “Alright, let me just freshen up before we head out.” Josie nodded and left your room heading to her room that she’d be in for the summer.

It's not that you didn’t want to go, you were just nervous to meet everyone. They’ve never heard about you, and you surely didn’t know a thing about them…

You decided to take a quickened shower doing the basics then getting out to dry yourself. You blew dried your hair then did some light makeup pulling together a comfy casual fit. You didn’t want to overdress but you also didn’t want to look like a bum. “Y/N! We’re leaving in 15.” Josie yelled down the hall to you, “Okay! I’m almost ready.” You yelled back to her, after changing you realized you almost forgot to brush your teeth and went to go to the bathroom. As you left the room you bumped into Danny, “Oh, shit. I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” You apologized to him, “Maybe if you were, we wouldn’t have had this happen.” He snapped at you, then stormed off.

You sighed to yourself, ‘Great now I’m just going to be known as the girl who annoys him.’ You went on to brush your teeth, and by the time you were done you had grabbed your small crossbody bag and headed out the house with Josie and Danny. Danny still looked annoyed from earlier, but you just continued on with it.

After about a 10 minute drive you arrived at the bowling alley, stepping out of his car to meet the rest of the guys. “Holy shit! Hey Josie!” A tall long haired man walked up to Josie giving her a tight hug. “S’good to see you!” “It’s good to see you Sam.” She smiled and departed from the hug going to the next guy, he was shorter and had glasses on and his shirt was slightly unbuttoned. “Jake…” She said before pulling him in for a hug. “So sorry we missed your graduation.” He said to her patting her back before pulling back from the hug. “It’s okay, y’all had a show.” She smiled then lastly was the curly haired man who you assumed was Jake’s twin. They were similar but still had indifferences. “Josh!” She smiled brightly just as he did the same, his smile could light up a room. “Congratulations on graduating!” He said excitedly, “Thank you! I’m so glad it’s over with.” She laughed softly.

“But everyone I’d like you to meet Y/N! She is one of my very good friends I made at college. She will be renting from Danny until she is able to get her own place down here in Nashville.” She beamed about you, and you smiled to all the new faces. “It’s nice to meet you all.” You gave a small little wave. “Oh, I’m a hugger.” Josh chuckled and walked up to you pulling you into a hug. You laughed softly and hugged him back. “It’s nice to meet you as well.” He pulled back, “I will warn you, we are pretty competitive when it comes to bowling.” When you entered the building, you followed behind him while engaging in a conversation with Sam, you learned that Sam and Danny have been best friends since first grade. And that Josh and Jake were Sam’s older brothers and in fact were twins.

“So what’s your drink of choice?” Josh had asked you as he walked up to the bar. “Tequila Soda.” You smiled at him, he nodded and ordered everyone’s drinks. Handing you your drink. “Thanks.” You smiled softly, “Of course. Besides, you'll be needing some friends around here!” You all headed to get your shoes from the counter going to your lane you would be playing at for the evening. You took your shoes off putting on the bowling sneakers, making sure they fit right. After that you grabbed a bowling ball and placed it on the pinsetter.

The first couple games had been fun, the guys were getting tipsy as well as you were. The drinks were settling in, as you were starting to get tipsy too. You were talking to Jake for a good portion of the night, talking about what there is to do here and how his girlfriend would be more than happy to spend time with you. Which you liked the idea of having another female friend once Josie went back home.

You decided to grab another drink, and Danny had already been up at the bar ordering one as well. “Hey! Good games so far!” You smiled at him, he looked over at you nodding, not saying a word. “Oh… Okay.” You looked away then back at him. “I’m taking it you’re not too thrilled I will be staying at your place?” The alcohol was really giving you the courage to speak, hence the nickname ‘Liquid Courage’. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.” He said coldly, “You didn’t have to say yes. I could’ve figured something else out.” You got your drink from the bartender.

“Yeah, but then I’d be labeled the bad guy by my sister. So let’s just put it into terms, you stay out of my way, and pay your share. And once you have enough savings to move, just move. Don’t overstay your welcome.” He picked his beer up and walked off. You felt a fire burning in your chest. He really just said that. Not only did that piss you off, but now you feel even more uncomfortable at the fact of living under the same roof as him for the next couple months.

It looks like you really will be on your own down here in Nashville…

[sassydjbob]

Tennessee Orange - Part one

Lando's family owns a ranch in Tennessee and Martin is an aspiring singer/songwriter who wants to save money and needs a change of scenery.

Inspired by Cowboy Lando during the Austin GP week.

Songs I used as inspiration: You look like you love me - Ella Langley feat. Riley Green Love you for a long time - Maggie Rogers LEVII'S JEANS - Beyoncé feat. Post Malone All to myself - Dan + Shay

ao3: SassyDjBob

note: English is not my first language. I am not from Tennessee and I don't live on a ranch, so it's not meant to be realistic and just used for a work of fiction. Credits to the owners and songwriters of the song lyrics used in the fic.

YOU LOOK LIKE YOU LOVE ME

Mornings weren’t Lando’s favorite time of the day, if someone asked him, he would probably say it’s his least favorite time of the day. He valued his sleep, a lot. So the idea of having to wake up early almost every day for the next few months did not fill Lando with excitement. 

“Lando come on! He will arrive soon and I need you to pick him up from the train station in town!” were the first words Lando heard this summer morning and he groaned into his pillow. 

After refusing to leave his warm and comfortable bed for another two minutes he finally got up and ready for the day. When he entered the kitchen downstairs, he saw his parents having breakfast and sister having breakfast. 

“Why can’t Oli pick him up?” he asked while grabbing a toast and egg that his mom prepared for him. 

“Because Oli has his own family now. You know he is busy with Mila, I don’t want to bother him” Adam, his dad, replied while reading his daily newspaper. 

Lando rolls his eyes at that and scoffs “So I get stuck with these tasks now?”

Adam finally looks up from his newspaper to look at his son “Lando, don’t be like that. It won’t kill you to drive to the train station and pick up our new help for the summer. Please don’t make a big deal out of this.” he tells his son with a kind, but serious expression. 

“Who is this new guy anyways? I don’t know anything about him. Please don’t tell me it’s another one of these weirdos that play a harmonica every morning” Lando says with a slight whiny tone, not bearing the thought of being stuck with another Luke, like last years summer help, that woke him up every morning before sunrise to play his harmonica outside.

Adam laughs at his sons statement and shakes his head “His name is Martin. I think he is just a few years older than you. It will be nice to have someone close to your age here this summer, don’t you think so?”

“Yeah, maybe” Lando mumbles and thinks about the guy, Martin, a normal name. Would he get along with Martin? Will he be annoyed by him? He didn’t expect the guy to be close to his age, normally the summer helps were much older than him. Maybe he could befriend Martin and actually have a decent time during work this summer, the thought of that made him smile.

He suddenly realizes that he has no idea what Martin looks like “How am I meant to know who he is at the train station? And please don’t say I am meant to hold up a poster with his name on it, because there is no way in hell I will do that.”

Lando’s mom and sister, both called Cisca, chuckle at the thought of Lando holding up a sign like that waiting for Martin. “I told him you would wait at the bakery there, I’m sure it won’t be too crowded at this time” Adam tells him. 

“Ugh, he better show up on time. I won’t wait forever. If he doesn’t show up after 10 minutes I am driving back home.” Lando announces and leaves the kitchen. 

“Thank you!” his dad calls after him added by a “Be nice and polite!” from his mom.

-

The drive to the train station takes around 30 minutes and Lando jams to his favorite songs on full volume, like he always does when he drives his car. If there were two things in life he loved, among some other things, they were definitely driving cars, or cars in general, and music. He often just drives around with music blasting, to set his mind free and to relax.

The thirty minute drive went by quicker than expected and Lando finds himself at the train station, praying that he won’t stand around like an idiot waiting for someone that is late or, even worse, not showing up. After parking the car he walks to the bakery his dad told him to wait at, wondering if he should get himself a sweet treat. That bakery had really good croissants and now that he is thinking about them, he is craving one. 

Just when he decides to get one, his train of thought gets interrupted when he sees someone standing next to the entrance of the bakery. Lando feels his heart stop for a second when he looks at him. There was something about the guy that made Lando’s breath hitch, something that made him suddenly feel very warm, on this chill summer morning. 

He realizes that he stopped in the middle of the way when someone bumps into him and he curses under his breath. He was just about to continue walking to the bakery when it suddenly dawns on him why he is walking to that bakery, not to get a croissant, but to pick up the new help for the summer, Martin. When the realization hits him that that guy in front of the bakery could be Martin, he stops walking again. He suddenly panics, he doesn’t know why. The thought of that being Martin has him feeling nervous, but also excited.

His heartrate picks up again and his hands feel sweaty. How is he supposed to walk up to him now? Should he just say his name or wait for him to say something? What if that isn’t Martin and it’s just a random guy that he will never see again? Lando would be very disappointed if that wasn’t Martin. He suddenly feels extremely overwhelmed by the situation and doesn’t realize he is standing in the way, again, until someone bumps into him, again. This time though the automatic “sorry” doesn’t leave his lips, instead a loud and embarrassingly high pitched yelp does. 

At first he doesn’t even realize why he reacted like that until he suddenly feels something burning his skin and when he looks down at himself he can see hot coffee staining his left arm, the side of his shirt and jeans. He curses under his breath and looks to the woman who is now holding an empty cup of coffee “I am so sorry, I didn’t see you standing here” she says with an apologetic look on her face. 

Lando smiles weakly “Nah it’s okay I shouldn’t have stood there, it’s alright” he says with an awkward look, truly feeling stupid for getting so distracted. 

“Do you happen to have a tissue or something?” he asks and looks down at his arm and clothes that are soaked in coffee. 

“Let me check, I don’t know if I have any in my bag” the woman replies and starts looking around in her bag. 

He nods and waits, trying hard not to cringe at the feeling of the hot coffee now starting to dry onto his skin. 

“It seems I must have forgotten to pack any, I am so sorry” she apologizes. 

Lando was just about to reply that it’s fine when he gets interrupted “Here you can have these” a soft voice says. 

He looks to see where that voice is coming from when he sees the guy from the bakery standing next to him, holding tissues out to him. Lando’s heart stops, again, and he doesn’t know how long it takes him to process the guy’s words, but he knows it was too long because the guy holds his hand out closer to Lando, to offer again. 

“Oh, thank you” is all Lando manages to get out and grabs a tissue from the strangers hand. He slowly moves to wipe some of the, now almost completely dried, coffee off his arm and starts blushing when he feels the guy’s eyes on him. 

“I really have to leave to catch my train, again, I am so sorry about this” the woman says with a sorry look on her face. 

“It’s okay, have a good day!” Lando replies and waves goodbye to the woman. 

“Are you okay?” the stranger asks and looks at him with concern in his eyes. 

Lando stops waving and turns to look at him, to really look at him for the first time, up close. He can’t describe the feeling that washes over him. There is something about that guy, that just pulls him in, that is captivating. He realizes, he must be staring like an absolute creep and clears his throat before speaking. 

“Umm yeah, might suffer from severe fourth degree burns, but other than that I am fine” he manages to get out with an awkward chuckle. 

The stranger also chuckles and Lando notices how his eyes almost close and crinkle and the side, the sound is so heartful but soft and also silly, it’s like music to Lando’s ears. 

“I’m glad, that looks nasty. I hope the coffee won’t stain too much” the stranger says with a genuine and soft voice. 

“It’s okay. These aren’t my best clothes, so the loss wouldn’t be too bad” Lando smiles. 

The guy nods, looks around and then looks back to Lando “Do you happen to know if there is more than one bakery in this train station? I was meant to meet someone at a bakery, but I am not from here and have been waiting for quite a while, that I am now wondering if I got the wrong one” he says and scratches the back of his head while looking a bit confused and lost. 

Lando too mesmerized by the stranger’s face and voice, doesn’t immediately get what the guy is talking about “No there is only one. Wait a second! Are you Martin?” he asks and watches as the guy’s eyes widen.

“Yes! Are you Lando?” he asks with a wide smile on his face. 

Hearing his name coming from Martin’s lips, might be his favorite thing in the world right now and he wants to hear it again. 

“That would be me” Lando smiles back. 

Martin’s smile gets bigger if that’s even possible. “Nice! I am so glad I found you. I was getting a bit worried I got lost or that you wouldn’t show up” Martin laughs. 

“Did you have to wait long? I thought I was on time, my dad told me when to be here, maybe he messed up the times” Lando says with a worried look on his face, feeling bad for making Martin wait. 

“No, it’s okay. It wasn’t that long. I am glad we found each other. Thanks for picking me up” he says and all Lando can think of in the back of his mind is that he is also glad they found each other. 

They make their way to Lando’s car that’s parked outside and Lando feels almost giddy at the thought of Martin spending the entire summer with them. When they reach the car Lando turns to Martin to help him put his stuff in the back, when he notices a guitar case. 

“You play the guitar?” he asks curiously. 

“Yes! Been playing since I was a kid” Martin replies eagerly. 

“Oh sick! I always wanted to learn but never got the chance to” Lando sighs. 

“I could teach you. It’s not that difficult” Martin smiles at him and Lando feels excitement rushing through him at the thought of Martin teaching him to play the guitar. 

He nods eagerly “That would be mint! Thank you.”

After all of Martin’s stuff is loaded into the car they get in at the front and Lando starts the drive back home. He put his playlist from earlier back on but doesn’t turn the volume as high as if he was driving alone. 

“So… what brings you to a random ranch in Tennessee this summer?” he decides to ask Martin, curious to know why he is spending their summer with them. 

“I am trying so save up some money for my career in music and thought a change of scenery and nature would be nice” Martin replies while looking out the window to watch the scenery as they are leaving town. 

“Oh! So you don’t just play the guitar as a hobby? What kind of career are you set on?” Lando asks with curiosity, not expecting Martin to be a serious musician. 

“Singer/Songwriter, I guess. I write songs and come up with melodies all the time, mainly on the guitar, sometimes on the piano, but I obviously can’t take that one with me everywhere” Martin chuckles and drums his fingers against the side of the car, as if he already had a new melody in mind. Lando glances over briefly and feels amazed by Martin. 

“That’s so nice! Will we get to hear any of your stuff? Or are you gatekeeping that for a special time?” he asks. 

“I can play you some of my stuff. Back at home I did some shows or people’s weddings. I am happy about any audience” Martin smiles softly. 

Home, Lando realizes he has no idea where Martin’s home is “Where are you even from? I don’t think my dad mentioned” he asks. 

“I’m from New York City” Martin says casually. 

Lando almost slams the brakes, when he hears Martin say that and looks over at him with wide eyes “What?! You are from New York and want to spend your summer in freaking Tennessee?!” he says loudly. 

Martin chuckles at Lando’s outburst “Well technically me and my family from Amsterdam, but we moved to the States when I was little. And yes, I do want to spend my summer here in Tennessee” he smiles. 

“Wait wait wait, this is too much information at once. You’re dutch?” Lando asks, not being able to process everything Martin is telling him. 

“Yup” Martin says softly. 

“Okay but if you’re from New York City why the fuck would you spend your summer here?” Lando asks, honestly confused about what Martin wants here. 

Martin chuckles again, amused by Lando’s reactions “As I said, I wanted a change of scenery. New York can be a bit much and overwhelming at times. Don’t get me wrong, I love it there, but I’ve felt a desperate need to escape the big city and buildings to just be somewhere calm to clear my head. My family and I used to spend our summers on a ranch in Texas when I was younger and I remember these as my favorite summers. The freedom of not seeing a building, just nature and the horizon, feeling so free on a horse. I missed all of that” he explains softly.

Lando nods but stays silent for a short while thinking about Martin’s reasoning. He can’t relate to Martin at all. All his life Lando has wanted nothing more than to live in a big city, to see the world, so he can’t really understand that someone would willingly want to spend their summer on the countryside of Tennessee. 

“Can’t say I can understand, but everyone their own I guess” Lando says in a slightly teasing tone. 

“Have you ever been in New York?” Martin asks curiously. 

Lando lets out a laugh at that question but then sighs and shakes his head “Nope. Sadly not, it’s on my very long bucket list. I hope one day I can be there with my camera.” 

The sad and yearnful undertone is barely there but Marin catches it and looks at Lando with soft eyes “Camera? Are you into photography?” 

“Umm yeah. I am by far not a professional and don’t have the equipment for that either, but I love getting out and taking pics, capturing moments and spots others might ignore and walk past. One day I want to travel the world with my camera and capture every corner I can find” Lando says with yearning and hope in his voice, Martin smiles at that. 

“You should come visit me in New York one day, one of my best friends, is a photographer, I think you would like him” he offers Lando. 

“We haven’t known each other for an entire hour yet and you are already inviting me? What if I turn out to be a total weirdo or asshole? You can’t know if you will like me yet” Lando replies with a teasing look. 

Martin lets out a small laugh “Well then my first instinct and judgement would have to betray me, because I already like you and I don’t think that will change” he says seriously. 

Lando’s heart stops at Martin’s words and he looks over at him for a second too long, before looking back at the road and gripping the steering wheel a bit tighter than before. 

“I feel flattered, hopefully I don’t make you regret saying these words” he says, back to teasing Martin. 

“I hope so too” Martin replies and Lando smiles at him.

-

After a smooth ride to the Norris ranch and a warm welcome from the family, Lando shows Martin where he would stay for the next few weeks. The small cabin next to the main house is mainly used for the summer helps, no matter how many times Lando has begged his dad to let him move into the cabin. His brother recently moved into the bigger cabin, slightly further from the main house, with his wife and kids, while Lando was still stuck living in the main house with his parents and sisters. 

“So this is all yours for the summer. There is a bedroom, bathroom, living area and kitchen, though my mom will probably beg you to eat with us all the time anyways. Make yourself feel at home I guess” Lando says to Martin, who looks around with amazement. 

“I’ll have all of this to myself?” he asks looking at Lando in disbelief. 

“Yup” Lando pops the p at the end. 

“Wow, this is much more than I could have ever expected. Thank you” Martin says with a grateful smile. 

“Don’t thank me. It’s my dad’s decision” Lando shrugs his shoulders. 

“Where are you staying? Is there another one of these?” Martin asks him. 

“Yeah, there is another one that’s slightly bigger, my brother and his family live in it. I am still stuck with my parents. I thought I would get this one after returning from college, but my dad is set on keeping this one for the helps during summer” Lando explains. 

“College? What did you study?” Martin asks curiously.

“Business and Photography. Made a deal with my dad that he would support my photography hobby, if I also major in something useful and help run the ranch and family business later on with my brother” Lando replies. 

“Oh wow! And you said you weren’t a professional. But it’s very loyal of you to come back to your family, instead of pursuing your dreams” Martin says, truly admiring Lando for that. 

“Yeah, well… they sacrificed a lot for me, so I could study photography and I will forever be grateful for that. And I could never leave my family. My dreams will have to stay dreams” Lando smiles weakly.

“I get that and I am sure they respect you a lot for that. I am also a big family guy, but I also believe in following and chasing your dreams. I don’t want to be old and grey one day regretting not chasing my dreams and thinking about what could have been, the “what if”, you know?” Martin explains in a way that makes Lando almost nostalgic about something that isn’t even lost yet. 

It’s not like Lando has fully given up on his dreams, but since he finished college he never paid them much thought, not daring to be hopeful about fulfilling them one day, but now here is Martin, a guy he has known for two hours, reminding him of what he truly wants in life.

He clears his throat before answering “Yeah, I know… Maybe an opportunity will come up one day” he decides to shrug it off for the moment. 

Martin shows him a sympathetic and understanding smile. 

“Okay, you probably want to start unpacking and getting settled in, so I’ll leave you be. I will probably be outside at the stables, so you can just come find me whenever you’re done” Lando says and starts leaving. 

“Thank you!” Martin says and Lando stops to look back at Martin once again and sees him show a smile that is so warm that it makes Lando’s warm up as well.

-

Martin’s first weeks on the ranch pass by like a breeze. It’s spent with lots of giggles, especially when Martin manages to fall off a horse, even though he swears that he has never fallen off one before, but Lando teases him endlessly and Martin knows that he will never live this down. 

As quickly as the first weeks pass, it also feels like a lifetime to Lando and Martin, who fell into an easy rhythm. They could both swear they have known each other for much longer than just a few weeks. There hasn’t been one uncomfortable or awkward moment of silence between them. Lando’s parents watch with amazement as they see their son, form a pure and genuine connection with Martin. There is barely a moment these two don’t spend together, giggling and laughing at the smallest things. Martin fits into their family, as if he had always been a part of it, never skipping a breakfast or dinner with the entire Norris family. 

“Hey Marty! Watch this!” Lando yells over to Martin, who is currently saddling his horse, and tries, but fails miserably to get his water bottle with a lasso. Martin can’t stop laughing as he watches him try multiple times until he finally gives up with a sheepish smile on his face and just grabs the bottle from the ground. 

“A for effort!” he yells at him with a grin on his face. 

Lando grins back at him “Thank you! I think so as well. Next time I will get it!”

Martin laughs at that “You sure will!” 

“Okay boys! Let’s get ready!” Adam tells them and they finish saddling their horses. 

Lando swallows when he sees Martin put his cowboy hat on and getting on his horse. He can’t stop staring at Martin on that goddamn horse, he has seen Martin on a horse before, but there is something about him in this exact moment, that makes Lando’s throat extremely dry. Maybe it’s the way the sun is shining and how the light is falling perfectly on Martin, that it creates an almost unreal glow on his skin. All that Lando can think about is how he wishes he had his camera with him right now so he could capture this and it’s in that moment that he realizes that he wants nothing more than to take pictures of Martin, because nothing in the world has captivated him and stolen his breath like Martin. 

“Lando! You coming or what?” his dad interrupts his thoughts and he feels slightly embarrassed when he notices Martin, his dad and his brother staring at him with a questioning look. 

“Yeah, I’m coming” he says and quickly walks past Martin to get to his own horse. 

-

“You should come to this bar with me tonight!” Lando says as he walks into Martin’s cabin.

It didn’t take long for them both to feel comfortable enough to have Lando just barging in unannounced on a regular basis. Martin, who is currently sitting on the sofa with a bunch of notes spread out in front of him, looks up from the one he was currently scribbling on and smiles at Lando.

“Don’t we have to get up early tomorrow? I wouldn’t want to make a bad impression on your dad…” Martin voices his concern with crinkled eyebrows. 

“Nope” Lando pops the p at the end and smiles brightly.

“Dad told me we have tomorrow off and besides that I am sure you could never disappoint him, he loves you” Lando tells him. 

“Oh that’s nice, then yes of course!” Martin agrees happily. 

“Mint! Be ready in like an hour” Lando says and leaves as abruptly as he came, Martin smiles to himself watching as Lando skips out of the cabin.

-

Lando is leaning against his car when Martin steps out of his cabin an hour later. He is wearing blue jeans that perfectly hug his hips with a casual shirt tucked into them and a beige cowboy hat on his perfect curls. There is something about the way Lando is leaning against the car with his hips slightly popped to the side that makes Martins mouth dry. As much as he has grown to love Lando’s curls and often wonders what they feel like, if they are as soft as they look, he will never get over seeing him with the cowboy hat on and swears that it makes Lando’s face look even more perfect. He has to stop his train of thought, shows Lando a smile and finally makes his way over to him. 

Lando also shows him a cheeky smile “You ready?” he asks and moves off the car to open the door to the passenger side for Martin.

“Yes” Martin breathes out and has to stop himself from blushing. 

He gets into the car and tries to be chill about the fact that Lando opened the passenger door for him, Lando is a nice guy, a gentleman, he probably always does that for everyone and it doesn’t mean anything special. Lando hops onto the drivers seat and starts the car. 

“So where is this bar you are taking me?” Martin asks and watches Lando put his arm around his seat to look back as he reverses the car out of the driveway, he watches as Lando skillfully moves the steering wheel with one hand and Martin could swear he is about go insane, because this is another thing that has been driving him crazy lately: watching Lando drive, or more specifically watching him steer the car with one hand. 

“It’s in town, so like a thirty-minute drive. Near the train station where I picked you up” Lando replies before looking over with a cheeky grin and adding “It’s a karaoke bar and you are going to sing a song with me!” he says excitedly. 

Martin feels all color drain from his face “What?!” he exclaims and looks over at Lando who is giggling at his reaction. 

“Oh come on, you have been here for more than two weeks and still haven’t performed anything for me. And I get it if you want to keep your songs to yourself, so I thought karaoke would be perfect! You don’t have to perform something of your own. And I love karaoke! We can sing something together” Lando says with so much excitement that Martin has no other choice but to agree. 

“Yeah okay” he says and the smile on Lando’s face is totally worth it.

-

They arrive at the bar and Lando leads the way with an excited and determined look on his face that makes Martin chuckle. Lando orders them both a drink at the bar and turns to Martin “I already know which song we are going to sing” he says with a big grin on his face. 

“Oh, do you?” Martin asks. 

“Yup” Lando nods his head excitedly. 

“And which one would that be? Do I get a say in this?” Martin questions with raised eyebrows. 

“Nope” Lando shakes his head and takes a sip of his drink to stop his grin from showing. 

“Do I even know the song?” Martin asks with a bit of a panicked voice, scared that he will embarrass himself in front Lando and everyone else in this bar. 

“I am pretty sure you do I would be surprised if you didn’t” Lando tells him, but Martin doesn’t feel reassured and starts to pray that he knows the song. 

“I will go request it now because it always takes a while. Be right back” Lando says and walks to someone near the stage. 

When he gets back they find a table to sit at. “You do this regularly?” Martin asks curiously. 

“Not as often as I would like to. During college me and my friends would hit up a karaoke bar pretty often, but since I graduated and got back home I haven’t really been” Lando explains and Martin notices a nostalgic look on his face when he mentions college and his friends.  He wants to ask about it but decides a karaoke bar is probably not the best place to do that. 

“Then I feel honored to be here with you tonight” he smiles at Lando and watches as Lando’s face lights up again. 

“Cheers to that” Lando says and raises his glass. 

“Cheers” Martin clinks his glass with Lando’s and they both smile at each other as they take a sip. 

They watch other people sing karaoke and get amused when most of them completely miss the notes and Martin cringes when some even lack even any kind of rhythm. He smiles when he catches Lando quietly singing along to most songs. He almost forgot that Lando put them on then list as well until their names are suddenly being called “Next up are Lando and Martin!”

Lando looks at Martin with excitement and stands up immediately. “Come on!” he hurries Martin over to the stage.

Lando hands him a mic and that’s when he remembers that he still has no idea what song they are about to sing when the familiar sound of a guitar and piano start playing. He looks at Lando who is grinning widely and then to the screen in front of them to confirm if he recognized the song correctly. 

He looks back to Lando who starts talking the first part “I was all but 22, I think at the time. I’d been out on the road, lonely at night. And it’d been a while, so it was on my mind” he has to stop himself from laughing when Lando suddenly does a spot on country accent and starts singing directly to him. 

“Well I saw him walk in, with his cowboy hat and I thought to myself, I could use some of that. His boots like glass on a sawdust floor, huh. Had moves like nothing I’d ever seen before” Lando absolutely dramatizes every expression on his face and moves his body perfectly to emphasize every word. 

“So I walked right up and I pulled him to the side. I handed that man a beer and looked him in the eyes” Lando now stopped right in front of Martin to look him in the eyes and continues “And I said: Baby, I think you’re gonna wanna hear this. Then I told him” he then closes his eyes to give it his all and sings “Excuse me, you look like you love me. You look like you want me to want you to come on home. And baby I don’t blame you for looking me up and down across this room. I am drunk and I am ready to leave. And you look like you love me”. 

Martin watches with amazement as Lando moves so freely on the stage and does a little dance while singing, totally feeling himself. Lando then moves to stand more the side to give Martin the stage and Martin doesn’t have time to think, almost missing the start of his part. 

“Well I was down at the local beer joint with a few of the guys. When this cute little country boy caught my eye” Martin didn’t really plan that lyric change, it just slipped out, but he catches Lando stopping his little dance moves for a second when he glances over to him to see his reaction. 

“And boy let me you, he was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen in a pair of boots. Well he walked right up to me, handed me a beer. Gave me a look like lets get out of here and that’s when I realized that he was every cowboy’s dream come true” Martin glances back over to Lando and notices a new look in his eyes, an emotional one. 

“He told me this right here, he said” he finishes his solo and looks back to Lando to sing the chorus together. They sing together in harmony and the smiles couldn’t be bigger on both of their faces. Lando dances around Martin, moving his hips and shoulders in a way that makes it hard for Martin to focus. 

“So if you ever see a man in a cowboy hat and you think to yourself, I could use some of that. Don’t waste your time. Just give him this here line. Goes a little like this” Lando sings and puts his Cowboy hat on top of Martins head with a wide grin on his face. 

Martin looks at him caught off guard by his action, but quickly recovers when Lando winks at him before starting the chorus one last time. It’s like every other person in that bar doesn’t exist while they are singing to each other, in their own world, feeling weightless in time and space for the moment. 

“You look like you love me” they finish the song, not hearing the clapping from the crowd in front of the small stage, not caring that everyone is looking at them, they only have eyes for each other right now and while the last note of song plays they smile widely at each other before being snatched out of their moment “Thank you to Lando and Martin! What a performance that was!”

They share one last look and then leave the stage to go back to their table. “That was amazing! Your voice is amazing!” Lando beams at Martin and pulls him into a side hug. 

“Thank you, yours wasn’t too bad as well. Sure you don’t want to consider a career in singing?” he replies. 

Lando smiles brightly at him “Nah. I am not built for the life in public, on a stage” he shrugs. 

“I get that, but I think the world would love you” Martin says wholeheartedly. 

“Really?” Lando whispers and smiles shyly. 

“Yes. I think no matter what you end up doing, as long as you do what you are passionate about and stay true to yourself, the world won’t have a choice but to love you for being you” he says, meaning every single word. 

“Thank you” Lando whispers with a blush on his face, looking down at his hands. 

Martin takes one of Lando’s hands making him look at him again “I mean it. Every single word” and when says it he doesn’t just mean the conversation they just had and he hopes Lando knows that. 

“You do?” Lando breathes out. 

“I do” Martin replies, never having meant these two words more than in that moment. 

Lando looks at him with so much emotion in his eyes, Martin can feel himself getting lost in his ocean eyes that show so much depth, so many layers and he wants to discover them all. 

“Do you wanna go for a drive?” Lando suddenly asks him. 

“Yes” Martin replies. 

They both stand up and walk out of the bar. When they reach the car Martin remembers that he still has Lando’s hat on that he put there during the song. 

“Wait. I still have your hat. Here” he takes it off and wants to give it back, but Lando laughs and shakes his head. 

“Don’t you know the cowboy hat rule?” he asks. 

“The what rule?” Martin asks with a confused look on his face. 

“If you wear the hat, you have to ride the cowboy” Lando says and shows him a cheeky grin before getting into the car. 

Martin almost chokes when the words leave Lando’s lips, he stands there frozen “You coming or what?” Lando yells from inside the car with a laugh. 

Martin takes a deep breath to regain his composure and gets in the car. Lando starts the car and drives away from the bar, Martin actually has no idea where Lando planned on driving. Unlike the other times Martin has driven with Lando, there is no music playing this time, it’s completely silent in the car. The only sound that could be heard was the one the car made as it passed through the streets. Martin notices another abnormality, Lando keeping both hands on the steering wheel. Normally he would only use one hand and keep the other one resting, but this time it seems like he is gripping the steering wheel tightly with both hands. Martin can feel the tension in the car building up. Lando who seemed so confident and carefree when they left the bar is suddenly refusing to look at him, seeming tense. 

“Where are we driving to?” Martin asks after a while, deciding to break the tension. 

He sees Lando rearranging his hold on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white from the tight grip “A spot I want to show you” he mumbles. 

“Okay” Martin replies with a soft voice. 

-

Their performance in the bar made Lando feel more alive than ever, the rush he got from singing to Martin, with Martin, was indescribable. And then Martin changed the lyrics, he sang boy instead of girl and he stared into Lando eyes while doing so and Lando swears he was about to faint on that stage. It sparked something in Lando, hope. The entire time, since Martin arrived, he didn’t dare to have hope. He didn’t dare to make himself believe that Martin might reciprocate his feelings. 

Lando could be honest with himself, he fell head over heels for Martin. From the moment he saw him at the train station, not knowing who he even was, he has been falling. Every moment he has spent with him since then made him fall even deeper. Every smile of Martin, every laugh, made Lando’s heart skip a beat. He suddenly loved waking up early, eager to start the day, to see Martin. When his dad wanted to give him days off, he made up excuses of wanting to help more. Every night he lay in bed, thinking about Martin, dreaming about Martin. But whenever he thought of Martin, he never let himself have hope, there was no way Martin liked him like that, so when Martin changed the lyric and looked at him like that it threw Lando off. For the first time he felt hope. Hope that Martin might like him back, that there was a chance.

When they went off the stage, he felt so much joy and happiness, he couldn’t believe what just happened and then Martin went even further and said the things he said. That the world would love him, just for being himself, that he meant every word. Lando couldn’t help himself, but to wonder if Martin not only meant the words, he said off stage, but also the ones on stage. He felt overwhelmed by all these new revelations and possibilities, so he suggested the one thing he always does when he gets overwhelmed: a drive to his favorite spot. 

He doesn’t know what confidence overtook him when he told Martin about the cowboy hat rule, maybe it was the adrenaline from performing on stage or the adrenaline Martin made him feel, but as soon as he started driving all the confidence left him again. He started doubting everything, maybe Martin didn’t mean anything like that and Lando just completely misinterpreted everything. He suddenly felt stupid for getting his hopes up, for misreading the situation. What if he embarrassed himself in front of Martin? He didn’t dare to look at him. So after parking the car Lando sits in his driver’s seat for a few moments when they arrived at their destination. He can feel Martin staring at him, probably confused by his behavior. 

“What is this place?” Martin speaks, breaking Lando’s spiraling thoughts. 

“It’s ummm, it’s my favorite spot to go to when I need to clear my head” he replies in a soft tone, still not daring to look at Martin. 

“Oh” Martin says. 

“It’s stupid. We can leave if you want to. I don’t know why I brought you here” Lando says, feeling even more stupid. 

“No! Please, I want to stay” Martin says immediately.

“Show me, please” he adds softly. 

Lando finally looks over to him “Okay” he whispers. 

They get out of the car and Lando takes the blanket he always keeps in there and moves towards the cargo bed. He spreads out the blanket “I like to sit here and watch the view, at day you can obviously see much more, we are on top of a small cliff, but at night it’s nice to watch the stars and just enjoy the calm” he explains to Martin, who is smiling at him and moves to make himself comfortable on the blanket. 

“It’s nice. Thank you for showing it to me” he says. 

Lando nods at him and then also sits down. The back of the car doesn’t leave them much room, so when Lando sits down next to him, their arms are pressed together. He can feel the heat radiating off of Martin’s body that always seems to be hot. They are quiet for a few minutes, enjoying the view and each other’s presence. After a while Lando can feel himself getting cold and silently curses himself for only wearing a shirt and not bringing a jacket, it might be summer, but the nights get cold. In an attempt to warm himself up he rubs his arms and curls forward a bit, making Martin look at him. 

“Are you alright?” he asks with a concerned look. 

“Yeah, just a bit cold. Forgot to bring a hoodie or jacket” Lando says with a slight shiver. 

“Come here” Martin says and without hesitating wraps an arm around Lando to pull him close and starts stroking his arm, feeling his cold skin. Lando’s heart skips a beat when Martin pulls him close and starts touching his skin. Martin’s warm hand almost burns his cold skin, but it’s a nice and comforting burn. He can immediately feel his body warming up and relaxing, leaning his head on Martin’s shoulder, embracing the warmth and closeness he has been craving. 

“Better?” Martin whispers after a few minutes, moving his head to look at Lando who smiles up at him with soft eyes. 

“Yes” Lando whispers back. 

“Thank you” he adds. 

Martin gives his arm a gentle squeeze. 

“In the bar, you said you meant every word. Is that true?” Lando finally gets the courage to ask. 

“Yes” Martin replies without hesitating. 

He moves his other arm that isn’t around Lando to gently grab his face and make him look at him. Lando feels frozen when Martins face is so close in front of him, when he feels him softly caressing his cheek and looking deeply into his eyes. 

“You drive me crazy Lando” Martin whispers and at the sound of his name Lando’s eyes flutter shut and he moves his face closer into the palm of Martin’s hand. 

“I thought I always knew what I wanted until you were right in front of me and since then there hasn’t been a second where you don’t consume every thought of mine. It’s been almost painful to be so close to you every day without having you. It’s been torture.” Martin continues to whisper.

They are so close now that Lando can feel Martin’s breath on his face. He doesn’t know if it’s even possible, but he pulls Martin’s head even closer by pulling on his neck, the tip of his fingers buried in Martin’s hair. 

“Please” Lando whimpers and moves even closer to rub his nose against Martin’s cheek. 

“Please what?” Martin asks and rubs his thumb over Lando’s lower lip, whose lips part the second he touches them. 

“Kiss me” Lando breathes out shakily and then it doesn’t take longer than a second and Martin’s lips are on his. They are softer than he could have ever imagined and the only thing allowing him to breathe again is the moan he lets out when Martin’s hand finds its way to his curls and gives them a pull that sends electric shocks through Lando’s body. He doesn’t know or care how much time passes as they kiss each other as if their lives depended on it, they actually might, or how they got into this position, but he suddenly finds himself straddling Martin’s hips being pulled in for another kiss.

“Mhhmm” he moans again and then forces himself to pull away so he can catch his breath and look at Martin. 

Martin who is laying beneath him with messy hair, swollen lips and a lazy smile on his face, Lando is sure he looks exactly the same. He rests his hands on top of Martin’s chest and smiles down at him “Hey” he says softly. 

“Hey” Martin breathes out and puts his hands on top of Lando’s to give them a gentle squeeze. 

“What took you so long? You muppet” Lando tries to say with an accusing tone but fails when he starts giggling, feeling high after the makeout. 

“What took me so long?! I had no idea if you wanted this!” Martin tries to defend himself and fakes an offended face. 

Lando lets out a scoff “You had no idea?! I could not have been more obvious Marty!”

“Obvious?! In what way?” Martin asks, confused by Lando’s revelation. 

“Marty… I started doing my brothers chores just so I could spend more time with you, I went with you to your cabin after dinner every night, I literally tried to spend every second of my day with you, trying to impress you in every possible way. You muppet!” Lando says, a bit frustrated that apparently, he wasn’t obvious enough. 

After a few seconds of the realization hitting him Martin giggles and moves his hands to rest on Lando’s hips. 

“What’s so funny” Lando whines at him. 

“I guess I really was a muppet” Martin smiles at him. 

“Yes you were!” Lando says. 

“I was doubting myself the entire time! I thought you weren’t into me” he adds with a pout. 

Martin squeezes his hips in an effort to reassure him “I’m sorry. I guess I didn’t want to overstep or make things weird between us or your family. I was an idiot for not realizing” Martin apologizes softly. 

“Forgive me?” he asks cheekily. 

“I guess there are ways you can make it up to me” Lando smirks at him and moves down again, his face inches in front of Martin’s.

“Oh really?” Martin breathes out heavily. 

“Mhmm” Lando hums, eyes fixated on Martin’s lips. 

“I’m all yours Cowboy” Martin whispers.

[tsarisfanfiction]

The True Story of Atlantis

Fandom: Trials of Apollo Rating: Teen Genre: Family Characters: Will, Gracie, Poseidon According to Percy, Atlantis doesn't exist, despite that being the name of Poseidon's realm. According to mortal stories, Atlantis was destroyed after attempting to conquer Athens. But what's the real story? TOApril day 29 - Lost City. This had me stumped for a while, because all I could think of was "Atlantis" and finding a way to link that back to TOA and also make it fit with what we know of Atlantis in the Riordanverse was a challenge. I do, however, like what I've come up with - but I will preface this fic with a warning for discussion of genodical behaviour. Wiping out an entire civilisation is and will always be an inhumane act of cruelty, even when it's done by gods.

“Hey, Will?”

“Mmm?” he asked, only half-listening to his younger sister as he finished counting up how many boxes of band-aids they still had in the infirmary, and calculating how many more they would need to see them through the new summer.  “What’s up, Gracie?”

She’d only been back at camp for a few hours, one of the first of the summer campers to descend, but Will had welcomed her back already, so this wasn’t her angling her way in for a greeting the way some of his siblings tended to if he didn’t head that off – this was only Gracie’s first return to camp, and Will wasn’t going to let that become a game of hers while he was in charge if he could help it.

The preteen jumped up onto the desk next to his pile of counted boxes, swinging her feet.  They kicked against the furniture in a regular rhythm, because of course they did.  Gracie loved making anything into a drum, even if it was furniture with her own flailing feet as the sticks.

“Mom and I watched a movie last night,” she said, with none of the homesickness some kids had when talking about their mortal parents so soon after leaving them.  Will hoped that meant she was going to settle in well this summer – with no godly shenanigans (there had better not be any godly shenanigans) going on this time, Will was hoping for a calmer year for once.

He hadn’t had a calm year at camp since before Percy had crashed into his life with a minotaur horn and a missing mother.  He thought he was owed one, if the gods had any mercy at all.

“Was it a good one?” he asked, and she nodded her head enthusiastically.

“It was great!” she said.  “Will, is Atlantis real?”

Whatever questions Will had been half-expecting to come at some point, that wasn’t one of them.

“You know that’s a question for Percy, not me,” he deflected, and Gracie gave him a look.

“Percy’s not here,” she said.  “I’m asking you.  In the movie, Atlantis is an old city that’s still surviving because the Queen merged with a crystal and made an awesome barrier, and Mom said that was all fiction, but it was Greek, so is it really fiction?”

Will had no idea what movie she was talking about.

“I don’t know much about it,” he warned her.  “But I don’t think the movie is accurate.”

“Aww,” she pouted.  “But it was pretty!”

He smiled, shaking his head fondly.  “I’m sure Atlantis is pretty, or at least very impressive.  Atlantis is where Poseidon has his palace, which is why you should really be asking Percy this.  I think he’s been there.”

“Percy’s not here,” his sister reminded him again, rolling her eyes like she thought he was being an idiot.  “You are.”

Will sighed and set down his pen, realising that attempting to finish his stock order any time soon wasn’t going to work, not until Gracie’s question was satisfied.

“Okay, I’ll tell you what I know,” he caved, “but remember, I don’t know much.  I only know what I’ve been told.”

He didn’t remember which of his siblings had told him the story, originally.  It had been one of his sisters, during his first summer, but one of the much older ones, that he hadn’t got to know very well before she’d left camp.

“So, there’s a lot of different versions of the myth,” he started, grabbing the chair and pulling it around in front of the desk, so he could face his sister as he spoke – although he couldn’t resist spinning it all the way around, just the once, as he sat in it.  She giggled.  “It’s one of those ones where the mortals believe one thing, for some reason, even though what actually happened was pretty different.”

“Oh?”  She leaned forwards, almost over-balancing as her legs continued thrashing Will’s poor desk.  “Why?”

Will shrugged.  “I don’t know,” he said easily – it was a bit of a lie, because he didn’t think it was a coincidence that the mortal story involved Athens and by extension, Athena, while the true story was based around Poseidon.  He didn’t know the details, though, and he wasn’t stupid enough to start questioning godly intervention or motives where they could hear him.  “But the mortals think that Atlantis was a very powerful island that conquered everything until they tried to conquer Athens.  When they tried that, the gods got mad at them and flooded them out.”

“Why would the gods get mad about that?” Gracie asked.  “Athens was only Athena’s, right?  Why don’t they just say Athena?”

Will shrugged.  “I don’t know,” he said.  “I think there’s quite a lot of mortal versions of the story but I’ve only heard this one.”

She frowned.  “Okay.  So if that’s the mortal one, and you said that’s not the true one, then what is the true one?”

“A good reason to remember to not anger Poseidon,” Will admitted.  “Atlantis was a powerful city, and a powerful naval city at that.  But they were also proud, and arrogant.”

“Pride comes before a fall,” Gracie nodded sagely, and Will grinned at her.

“Exactly,” he confirmed.  “They started to boast.  Said a lot of things, and some of them were probably true, but then they said that they ruled the sea, and that Poseidon did their bidding.  Which was pretty stupid of them.”

Even Gracie had winced at that.  “Gods don’t do mortal’s biddings,” she said, like it was obvious.  “They’re gods.  Even Dad doesn’t do as he’s told.”

Despite himself, Will laughed, remembering how impossible it had been to keep Lester under control even while their father had been mortal.  Bizarrely, he was actually more cooperative as a god, or was at least more likely to do what they asked, if he could.  Still, “no, he doesn’t,” he agreed.  “But the Atlanteans weren’t as smart as us and thought they could get away with claiming control over both the sea and Poseidon himself.”

“So Poseidon destroyed them?” Gracie guessed, and Will nodded.

“Poseidon destroyed them,” he said.  “But it was more than that.  He didn’t just raise the sea to swallow the island whole and drown every single Atlantean.  He also took it for himself, destroying all trace of the civilisation entirely, until it no longer existed, even beneath the sea.  Then he built over it, and even now, his palace is said to be on the site of the drowned island.”

It was pretty horrific, if Will actually stopped to think about it.  The entire eradication of a civilisation, and then creating his own palace directly on top of the ruins.  It would be considered defiling, if it was done by humans.  Genocidal, even.

But Poseidon was a god, and gods just did things like that, back in the Ancient times.  Will sincerely hoped none of them decided to pick those habits back up again in modern times.

Gracie frowned.  “That’s scary,” she said.  “I don’t like that.  I think I like the movie better.”

Will gave her a small smile.  “I think I do, too,” he agreed.

[wyattjohnston]

want nothing more than to be back at home again - anthony beauvillier

series: into moonlight

summary: another hockey day, another hockey trade.

word count: 1,204

Maggie wasn’t expecting the hardest part of a trade to be Tito being in New York but staying in a hotel room in Manhattan.

He’d left their apartment to meet the Canucks for the first time, two large suitcases in tow, and Maggie sat on the couch expecting him to be home after practice for a nap. What she got—and what they’d talked about—was a quick phone call as he was crawling into bed. Although, that definitely added to her confusion because roadie naps were usually preceded by a text, not a call.

Nothing was making sense.

Just as she would for any road game when she had free time, Maggie curled herself up on the couch. Only, the Islanders hoodie she was wearing suddenly felt traitorous. She’d seen the photos of him in a Canucks jersey and knew that he was wearing the number 72 again and yet it took her a moment to find him on the ice whenever the commentators said his name; years of watching him meant she was eventually about to find him just by the way he skated at least.

That paled in comparison, though, to walking into UBS Arena and walking down towards the ice, not up to the family box as she usually did. Cheyenne had been mortified at the idea that Maggie would even think she wasn’t allowed in the family box, and Grace had followed it up with a phone call to really make sure she knew. She still sat in the seat she’d paid a couple of hundred dollars for at the last minute.

It was poetic, maybe, watching both Tito and Bo Horvat score their first goals against their old teams in their first head-to-head game since the trade. Maggie mostly just sat quietly and tried not to draw too much attention to herself whenever the Canucks scored—at the end of the day, she wanted Tito to score and his team to win more than she wanted anything else out of a hockey game.

Weirder still—and Maggie did not know how it kept getting weirder—was walking into the depths of UBS Arena. Lou Lamoriello was a man of many rules and one that Maggie had never dared break was family not being allowed to wait outside the locker room, he couldn’t stop her from hanging outside the visitor’s locker room, though.

She’d still made Tito ask permission first.

“Lou would lose his mind if he knew you were down here.”

Mat was walking towards her, hair wet and demeanour far more jovial than she would have expected after such a close loss, and Maggie hugged him.

“Lou can kiss my ass after what he’s done.”

“Vancouver’s a great city,” Mat told her earnestly. “Tito sent me the place the Canucks found for him—it looks pretty great.”

“It all looks amazing,” Maggie agreed, though her shoulders lifted in an uncertain shrug. “No idea when I’m going to be able to get there, but I am looking forward to it.”

Maggie listened to Mat’s tales of Vancouver, of all the places he thought she should go when she got there—from the regular touristy things like Capilano to the places in Coquitlam he still visited every summer when he went home. He, again, offered up his bedroom at his parents’ house if they ever needed it even if Coquitlam wasn’t far from Vancouver, and mentioned multiple times that if Maggie wanted a friend, he would happily re-introduce her to his sister.

She sighed, deep and heavy, “I hadn’t even thought about the friend thing. I got a nice message from one of the WAGs on Instagram with her phone number. Lexie Demko?”

“It’s good that someone did. I think the captain’s wife normally would but—”

“We’re trading places, yeah.”

The Canucks players had started to leave during their conversation, slowly trickling out. Some of them greeted Mat briefly but nobody stopped for a proper chat—none of them knew who Maggie was either, so they didn’t stop to introduce themselves. She wasn’t upset by it; in fact, she was more relieved with every one of them that past because it was one less person she may have to talk to that night.

Tito finally emerged and Maggie didn’t think she’d ever been more relieved to see him. She folded herself into him as soon as he was by her side and felt her body sag with a release of tension. It had been a matter of days since she’d seen him yet it had felt longer than every road trip he’d ever been on.

She stayed close to him through his conversation with Mat and some quick introductions to some of his new teammates, faces and names she knew separately but could now put together.

Mat left not long after, leaving Maggie and Tito standing in the nearly deserted corridor.

Maggie frowned at him, saying, “It’s going to be easier when you’re actually in Vancouver and not half an hour away in Manhattan.”

“I have permission to come home tonight,” he revealed, already visibly bracing for Maggie to launch herself at him. She had the awareness to not wrap her legs around his waist, instead keeping them on the ground as she clutched him as close as humanly possible.

Leaving the Island was hard. It was the only place she knew to be home and, quite frankly, leaving it wasn’t a possibility she had considered beyond a surface level thought.

She watched impatiently as their belongings were loaded into boxes and then into a moving truck; she had Peyton on FaceTime from California who was, not for the first time, talking Maggie through the moving process. Peyton had moved to California with her non-hockey playing boyfriend in the summer of 2022, so at least Maggie wasn’t also having to say goodbye to her.

It was a home they’d made together and, to be quite frank, she wasn’t totally enthused about moving into an apartment in Vancouver,  no matter how nice it was.

Still, she packed up their house, didn’t cry as much as she thought she would, and hopped on a plane with a large suitcase to get her through the wait while the movers drove straight across the entire continent.

Vancouver is undeniably beautiful from the air, Maggie recognised as she stared out the window over the mountains and the water; nicer to look at than the view coming into either JFK or La Guardia.

In an ideal world, Tito would have met Maggie at the airport. In the real world, he had morning skate and a game against the Flyers that evening. Their schedules lined up enough, though, that he was back from practice and waiting in their new home when she called him from the street.

Seeing Tito, even after just a week, had a relieved smile growing on Maggie’s face.

“I’ve never missed you so much,” she admitted, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing onto her toes to kiss him—it wasn’t particularly passionate or desperate, they were both just happy to be together.

“It’s been weird,” he agreed. “Do you want to see our new home?”

“Lead the way, babe.”

thanks to shelb ( @matthewtkachuk ) for her feedback of more. she didn't win.

Please consider leaving feedback—reblog and write in the tags or send an ask, I’m not fussed. I just want to know what you’re thinking!

[d0ntw0rrybehappy]

On my last day in Berlin went to a lake near Teufelsberg (Teufelssee, devil’s lake lol) where about a hundred people were bathing and sunning themselves in the buff. It’s kinda an institution around Europe. So I’m like cool and I join them, get nakey in nature and swim around in a nice cool lake. Definitely fewer full frontal women than men, and being young as well, felt very conscious of gaze, but also wanna get naked like everybody else and felt it was my right. Suss the towel spot for weird dudes, spot a few — just guys with gazes that aren’t quite right — but on second glance they’re, like, fine. Not actionable level creepy. There’s one man nearby who gives me some solace, an old-ish guy in cool glasses and long hair for whom it is just clearly nonsexual chillin’. Exchange a wordless hello.

Swim, come back, blah blah. I’m stoned and had spent the afternoon in the forest gazing at bloated Nazi oil tanks hidden off the main path. The tanks with which I’d had an almost religious interaction turned out to be American, supplying the spy station atop Teufelsberg during the Cold War. The Nazi part is the unfinished university underneath Teufelsberg, which is an artificial hill formed of rubble because the Americans found this strategy easier than using dynamite. Truth isn’t always stranger than fiction but it does have a way of being unsentimental. So I’m ready to go at this point, had had a nice time swimming, knock the kickstand to my Lime app bike, when I look up to see a sort of ageless nude man (young face, salt-pepper hair) has materialized among the the trees. Wasn’t the water really cold? He asks me.

I shrug. It was fine. He squats down next to me as I kneel to tie my shoes. His long, coltlike legs sort of cross over his penis. He has been watching me swim and sun, he says. He thought I was a refugee, a Syrian immigrant! Ha ha. He noticed I’m alone. Yes, I’m alone. Traveling alone! Wow!

Ah — I remember him. One of the guys scattered around my way when I put my towel down. A quick exchange of glances, not the best vibe, and then he made himself forgotten.

I ask him what he does for work. He says he’s an investor. Inexplicably the idea of him investing in my art flashes through my brain and I become so conscious of appearing opportunistic I almost knock over my bike. And me? Social media, I tell him. His brother has a media agency, he says. Mostly the money in Germany is shit, but it’s pretty good in media, advertising. Germany has a great train that goes unlimited over the summer for 50€. I can explore the Germanic countryside unhindered. His name is Mark. He would love if I might take down his contact info. It’s too bad he caught me right as I was about to go. I am about to ask him for his last name so I can, like, google him but something stops me. Why google?

It’s not until I leave it dawns on me how weird that was. Every day here, a new man wants to be friends. I tell them about my boyfriend. Doesn’t matter. Not necessarily weirdos — a married writer, an IT guy from Damascus, a ballroom dancer from Toulouse, a composer at the Louvre. A guy at an ambient show, a friend of a friend — could feel the energy running through his finger, his hand casually placed near mine. I’m practically folded into the corner seething, I think he’s flirting, but not sure if I’m making it up. I told him I had a boyfriend already. Later he says “not to be too forward but you can stay at my place if your hostel is too far.” I’m trying to think of what to say to this.“What do you mean by forward?” Beat. “but I told you I have a boyfriend.” “Oh, I didn’t know what that meant since you’re backpacking through Europe and all.” By the end I’m practically screaming at the IT guy. “I HAVE A BOYFRIEND. I AM NOT INTERESTED. WE ARE WALKING TO THE CLUB AS FRIENDS. PLEASE SIGN HERE.” Still, little things. Hearts. An offer to share a bed.

Women never approach me. I had felt men watching me, yes, when I had been swimming. But you couldn’t tell that I was naked. I’m a damn good swimmer! Ugh. Sometimes I pretend to be stupid.

[julianxhawthorne]

"Lake's Calling."

Synopsis: Lake calls Julian three days after Haven left, worried for his mother's well being. Characters: Lake Sinclair, Julian Hawthorne. Mentioned: Haven Sinclair

This thread has been written out on discord with @havenbsinclair

Lake: It had been three days since Haven's fight with Julian, and despite the fact she'd done her best to keep Lake out of it, it hadn't gone unnoticed by the child. Maybe it was the way that Haven had been crying during one of her favorite movies, or the fact that he'd noticed how much snippier she'd been recently, but, either way Lake had noticed something. And despite the fact that Haven wasn't telling him much, Lake wanted answers. So, when his mom was sleeping, the child did what all children do best. He got his mom's phone and called Julian, waiting for the male to answer.

Julian: Being separated from Haven after a fight like that and pretty much no contact was not good for the man's sanity. He was stressed and on edge, lost his appetite and when he wasn't sending her a text once every few hours, he just dove into work, and if that wasn't enough, he'd be at the holding, much to his parents' approval. That night, he was startled awake by the vibrating of his phone, tired eyes suddenly all awake when he saw Haven's photo pop up as caller ID. It was almost pathetic how fast he picked up, the phone brought to his ear instantly. "Honey?"

Lake: Hearing Julian's voice on the other end - unable to determine the emotion that came with it - Lake pressed the phone closer to his ear, letting out an innocent snicker as he heard Julian call him - or who he thought was Haven - honey. "No, it's not Mom, it's Lake." the child whispered, oviously trying to be suspicious as it was late.

Julian: "Lake? Wh-" Julian frowned, looking at the screen to see if he had perhaps been seeing ghosts but when it was still Haven's photo with her nickname on top it proved otherwise. Then, he also registered the time. "Buddy, why are you up so late? Are you okay? Is your mom okay?" He fired a barrage of questions, sitting up straight on his bed. With the moon shining brightly, he had no need for the bedside lamp to be turned on, and instead he watched the distant ripples of the ocean washing ashore as an anchor point while he listened.

Lake: Listening as Julian spoke, Lake sighed, breathing heavily as he clearly moved out of one room and into another. “Yeah, I’m okay. Mom’s asleep.” He spoke, looking back at his mom’s room to make sure he hadn’t woken her. “I fell asleep in her bed and I woke up because she’s snoring.” Leave it to Lake to be serious. “Mom told me not to ask but can we still go mini golfing tomorrow like we planned?”

Julian: Julian found himself nodding when Lake told him Haven was asleep. It brought him some comfort to know she was at home and she was safe and not out there trying to get over him, that’s where his mind had been headed at least. When he mentioned her snoring however, he let out a mere “Ah.” Though had to wonder if this was Lake trying to be funny or if she actually was doing it, which he knew meant she’d pushed herself. Or in this situation, he had pushed her to her limits. At Lake’s question, Julian froze. He’d forgotten about them going mini golfing, but was certain him showing up to pick up Lake while they had split wasn’t a good idea. He parted his lips to speak yeah if your mom is on board with it. he almost said, but knew it meant Lake would have to ask her, and if she potentially said no, might result in Lake getting angry and spiteful. He didn’t want to create friction between mother and son, so he sighed. “That’s tomorrow? I’m sorry kid I thought that was when we get back from Europe for the summer break.” He lied, feeling like a horrible person more and more. “I have to do things for work tomorrow, prep and meetings.. is it still okay to do it when we get back?”

Lake: As Julian was quiet, Lake was almost certain he’d say no. He’d gotten used to being disappointed a lot more recently as his dad had been saying no to hanging out more; probably why he was searching for any sort of comfort from Julian. Nodding slowly he sighed. “That’s okay. I know you’re busy. I just didn’t want you to forget so I wanted to check.” He shrugged, despite Julian being unable to see him. “My dad forgets sometimes..” he added, not realizing he’d said it out loud. He wanted to ask if they were still going to Europe with him - it had been something they’d talked about when they’d surprised him in Great Britain just the week prior - but instead he sighed. “Can I ask you a question? I don’t want to make mom sad again..”

Julian: Though it felt impossible, his heart shattered all over again. Lake spoke with the mannerisms of his mother, and the disappointment in his voice was tangible. He was aware of the cancellations of Lake’s father. How it had upset him. the last thing he wanted was for Lake to feel the same way towards him, but it was a sacrifice he was willing to make. He would make so many more if it meant the relationship between mother and son would only strengthen. “I’m sorry buddy. I didn’t mean to, I’d rather be with you, kid.” He spoke, no lie this time. He was prepared for Lake to cut off the call right then and there but when Lake asked if he could pose a question, he pondered. What if it was something he couldn’t answer? And just how sad was Haven? It lasted less than a second, his answer was always going to be the same. “You can always ask me anything, bud.”

Lake: “I know, my mom says that too.” Lake spoke. Which had been true. Regardless of anything else Haven always wanted to put Lake first, and she’d always encouraged that Julian did the same. And no matter what happened between her and Julian, if Lake wanted to be part of Julian’s life, Haven would let him..eventually. As long as that’s what Julian wanted anyways. Though, that didn’t stop the child’s mind from wondering, curious if everything he’d grown accustomed to in the past year had been taken away from him and he exhaled. Turning his head to look back at his mom’s room he whispered again, almost as if he didn’t ask there was no answer. “Did you and mom break up?’ He asked, hoping that the answer was no. “I heard her crying on the phone with either auntie Amerie or aunt Nora or someone earlier and she doesn’t think I heard her but she just kept saying ‘she didn’t know what happened..’..”

Julian: It was a question he expected, and while Lake had been thinking and formulating, Julian had already decided on his previous question for himself. What if he couldn’t answer? But he could. The question was, was he going to be truthful or was he going to lie. “We did not break up.” He told him, for that was the truth. No words had been spoken that made it final. Which was why he was in such turmoil, he didn’t know what to expect. What was going to happen. “But something I said hurt your mother after she already had a bad day, and she needs … time to figure things out.” He decided truth was the best policy. He shouldn’t treat Lake like a little boy when he clearly worried about his mother. “It would mean a lot to her if you could give her a big hug instead of asking questions. Or sleep by her side at night, even if she does snore.”

Lake: Lake hadn’t been sure what had happened between his mom and Julian, and while he didn’t need to know he was curious. He was a kid that liked routine and knowing the answer of things and even though Lake himself couldn’t help the situation, his mom was his best friend and seeing her upset would never be something he liked seeing. And while he knew better than to ask, he’d always appreciated that Julian was honest with him; here was to hoping that wouldn’t change now. So as the male told him that they didn’t break up, the smile on his face grew a little and he nodded. “Well, that’s good…” the child spoke, exhaling. “She thinks a lot sometimes so I hope she figures it out soon.” Lake spoke, listening to Julian as he suggested that Lake hug her and sleep by her side. “I will.” He reassured, listening for any sign of Haven being disturbed. “I should probably go check on her, but, are you okay?” Lake asked, wanting to check in on Julian as well.

Julian: "Yeah, your mother is a clever one. She'll make the right decision." Whether that meant staying with him or leaving with him, he could not say. He'd always known he wasn't good enough for her anyway. Perhaps he was lucky he got to spend this much time with her. The last thing he wanted however was for her to be alone, and he knew how rebellious of a teen Lake could be. "Good boy." He told him, raising his gaze once more to watch the shores in front of his home. "I am buddy. Thank you for asking." Even if it was a lie. "And Lake? Don't tell your mom you called me in the middle of the night. Don't want to get you into trouble."

Lake: It took Lake a bit to respond, especially since he nor Julian had the answers he was looking for, but at least his conversation with the man had comforted him a little bit at least. It understood now that it was important to be there for his mom however she needed and if staying quiet about it and being in her presence would help he could do that. “You’re right she’s smart.” Lake commented, looking back over his shoulder towards his mom’s door, hearing some rustling from inside. “I won’t. She’d be worried about me and I don’t like it when she’s worried.” He commented his voice now quieter as he began rushing, confident he heard her awake. “I gotta go, I think she’s awake. Love you dad.” He spoke, hanging up the phone abruptly afterwards.

Julian: "She is. We should both listen to her more." He spoke, trying to sound as confident as he could that they would be okay in the end, that they both would have the pleasure of being in her life and not just Lake. But if not, he hoped it was an incentive for Lake to listen more, to be patient. It was all he could at this point. "Me neither buddy. Thank you for taking care of her." It wasn't his job, and he felt bad he put Lake in that situation. He knew it had always been them during his entire life, so he also knew it wasn't a strange ask. "Okay bud." He spoke, then turned silent, a hot flash spreading across his chest that quickly turned cold. It was the sudden click that snapped him out of his trance. "Lake?" He asked, then moved his hand so he could look at the phone, revealing his standard screensaver. Perhaps it was irony, that he grew up barely feeling anything, and now he felt everything, as he sat basking in the moonlight in a cold and empty room.

[helenaheissner]

Love During Robot Fighting Time: Chapter 12

Hello, lovelies! Hope y'all are doing well :)

Don't forget you can read three chapters ahead on this story, twenty chapters ahead on "A Dream of Summer Rain", and two chapters ahead on "Magical Girl Exorcist Squad", by becoming a paid subscriber on my Substack or my Patreon!

***

Faith

12 Months earlier

I stood with my hands jammed into my pocket, Olivia putting her hand on my shoulder and Zeke glaring at Calloway across the stage. I made eye contact with Calloway briefly while he mugged for the camera, Marty keeping him busy as he talked about how he’d ‘annihilated us.’

“-But yeah, that’s why I’m gonna win the championship this year,” Calloway said with a smug grin plastered to his stupid face. 

“You are definitely becoming a favored underdog, but so are your opponents,” Marty pointed out. “Aren’t you worried about Team Dai Gurren coming back with a vengeance?”

“No, I think one-shotting them tonight was a good indicator of the quality-gap between us,” Calloway said. 

I grinded my teeth together as the microphone was brought over to us. Olivia, bless her, took point for the interview.  “So, what happened tonight?” Marty asked. 

“Calloway definitely took us by surprise- we had no idea Polyphemus was that fast, or that it could hit that hard,” Olivia said diplomatically.

“And what about your own performance?”

“I mean it wasn’t much of a performance, was it?” Olivia said with an awkward laugh. “We didn’t get out the gate fast enough, and Calloway got a lucky shot in-”

“Cheap shot,” I said under my breath. Calloway had sprinted right for us the instant the fight started, faster than any of us were prepared for. Olivia started to swerve out of the way, but that just meant Polyphemus’ ax caught us on our right wheel axis and severed the tires clean off. Along with our break wires. We wound up careening directly into the screws, not able to stop while we got caught under it and then got counted out. 

“A lucky shot,” Olivia insisted. 

I spaced out the rest of the interview, stewing in frustration as my ill-fitting clothes swung around the body I hated. The team and I hauled our amputee victim of a bot back into the pits, where, surprise surprise, we found Calloway humming and working on his machine. 

“Hi,” he chirped. “Great fight, guys!”

“You already won, there’s no need to be passive-aggressive,” I snarled. 

“I’m not being passive-aggressive, I just had a good time,” Calloway said, furrowing his brow. He stepped forward, away from his work station and towards ours. 

Olivia stood behind me, already zoning into work. I wanted to as well, but I couldn’t get my mind off of this Calloway being a raging tool one minute and a happy little himbo the next. 

Zeke put himself between Calloway and I, grabbed Calloway by the shoulders and stared directly at him. “Dude. You’re giving off real mixed signals. Dial it back. And give us all some space. Please.”

Calloway… Blinked. Then he looked away, down at his shoes. I cocked (heh. Cock) my head in confusion while I watched the scene play out. 

“Okay,” Calloway said in a soft, quiet voice. 

“Good,” Zeke said, letting go of his shoulders and turning around. 

I watched Calloway stand there another moment. He seemed to refuse to make eye contact with me, and finally, after a moment, he turned around and went to work on his machine. 

Finally, I did the same.  

Always last to act. 

***

Now

I slid back against the surface of the wall and sobbed. I’d read the signs, because they were loud and clear even to me, so I made myself leave. I hiked around to the back parking lot and just… Just… 

I didn’t even make it back to my car before I started crying. 

He liked her. And she clearly liked him. Why the hell wouldn’t she? I certainly couldn’t blame her. The only one I could blame was myself for waiting too long. 

I thought back to the night Calloway… Kate gave us our first defeat. I still got mad about that fight sometimes, still got annoyed at myself for losing to cheap shot like that, still got annoyed at Olivia for not moving fast enough. But that wasn’t the point; the point was that… When Zeke had put himself between me and Kate, when my own girlfriend wouldn’t do the same… That was the moment I started becoming attracted to him. And looking back on it… It was probably the same for Kate.

I always waited too long. I could have come out in high school or college, transitioned younger. I could have been competing in robotics younger too. 

I could have told Zeke how I felt about him any time in the past year.

So why the hell hadn’t I? Because I wanted him to do everything for me? 

I buried my face in my hands and wept, feeling my makeup running off my visage while the warm night air of late June grew colder around me. 

“You okay?” 

I yanked my hands away from my face and looked up, where, to my horror, Olivia stood. “Do I look okay?” I said bitterly. 

“No, you look like you’re in an absolute state,” Olivia said. 

“Still not one to mince words, I see,” I said. 

“It’s part of my charm,” Olivia said. 

“Yeah. Sure it is.”

“Ouch,” Olivia winced. 

“... Sorry, I just…”

“May I sit?”

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead,” I said. 

She sat next to me on the grass pressing against the outer wall of the building. “So, are you just broken up about losing tonight, or is this about me-”

“No, to both,” I said. 

“Is it Zeke?” Olivia asked. 

“...”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Olivia said. 

“What does?” I asked, dreading the answer. 

“You like him,” Olivia said. 

“... Am I that obvious?” I said, my chest deflating. 

“No, actually you’re not,” Olivia said. “It was just something I picked up on from the way you two have been interacting this year. Plus, you gush about him on instagram sometimes, posting pictures of the two of you together… I kinda just figured you were already dating, to be honest.”

“We’re… Definitely not,” I said. “There’s… There’s someone else. A girl named Kate. And Zeke has been spending all his time with her lately. They’re spending time together right now, actually. Getting real close and cuddled up. I made a retreat because I… Didn’t wanna be a third wheel.”

“That’s… Honestly shocking to hear,” Olivia said. 

“What, that I actually had the social intuition to make myself scarce?”

“No. Well, yes. But also, that he’s interested in someone else.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“No, I’m not. Zeke followed you around like a lovesick puppy even when he thought you were a boy. You asked him to join our team and he said yes without even having to think about it. He was instantly supportive when you came out- which is certainly more than I can say. Plus… He’s incredibly protective of you, dresses up and dances with you when you two win fights… That’s all a lot for someone who just sees you as a friend.”

I blinked rapidly, a million interactions taking on a new context as the final proverbial horse crossed the finish line. “Dammit.”

“The question, though, is- does he know you like him?”

“I… I mean I’ve never told him directly-”

“Then he doesn’t know.”

“What do you mean he doesn’t know- if it’s so obvious-”

“Because- and I feel like you already know this, but I’ll just give you a reminder- most guys who were, ya know, raised by parents, constantly get the message drilled into them that just because a girl hangs out with them doesn’t mean she’s into them romantically. And Zeke’s parents, if you recall… Well they tend to assume the worst. Always.”

“God, they really do,” I said, clenching my jaw and speaking through my teeth. 

“So, if you haven’t told him, and he hasn’t done anything that would indicate he knows… He probably just assumes you only see him as a friend. I mean, hell- does he even know you’re into guys?”

“...”

“Have you ever been watching a movie or a show together and been like ‘wow that guy is super hot?’ Just to, like, get the information out there that you’re into fellas?” Olivia asked. 

I said, “No, because he has low self-esteem and I don’t want him to feel insecure and oh goddammit he has literally no idea. The possibility that I like him back has probably never even occurred to him.”

“And this Kate girl, I’m guessing she’s a bit more on the direct side?”

“I think so, yeah,” I said, bunching my legs together and squeezing them against my chest. “She was the one who asked him out earlier this week, and she’s the one who started cuddling up to him a few minutes ago… Dammit. I just… I kept waiting for him to make the first move because it sounded so… Nice! Being the one who gets courted for once-”

“‘Courted’ wow, you really are old fashioned, aren’t you?”

“Apparently, yeah,” I said. “It just seemed… Affirming.”

“Fair enough. But you gotta admit, with Zeke specifically… That probably wasn’t the best course of action.”

I nodded. “What should I do?”

“Are you seriously asking me of all people for advice about your boy problems?” 

“... I see your point.”

“That being said, I do wanna make things up to you, given how awful I was,” Olivia said, cracking her knuckles. “Way I see it, you got two options: option one- tell Zeke how you feel, and put the ball in his court. He and this Kate girl have only started getting close to each other in the past week, that means it’s all still new enough that there’s no guarantee it will last. If you’re lucky, he sees the whole situation as a case of the girl he’s actually loved the whole time finally telling him you can be together, and he breaks it off with the girl who’s, yeah sure, new and exciting and forward, but whom he doesn’t have as strong a connection to.”

“And if I’m not lucky?” I asked. 

“Oh, he decides that you waited too long to tell him, that it’s not cool to wait until he’s found someone else to spring this on him. It’ll probably make things horrifically awkward between you two, which is, uh, not great in the middle of tournament season.”

I sighed and looked up, trying to peer through the smog and light pollution blocking out the stars. “What’s option two?”

“Do nothing,” Olivia said, standing up and facing me. “Say nothing. Keep all of this to yourself. Swallow your feelings till they go away on their own. It’ll take a while, and it will hurt, but… If you really care about him, you’ll want him to be happy on his own terms. Even if it’s with someone who’s not you. Be honest with me- are you okay with that?”

“... I wanna say yes. I really wanna say yes,” I said, my guilt and shame a dumpster fire burning inside my chest and releasing noxious fumes.  

“You need to do better than that,” Olivia said. “If you’re not sure, then you’re gonna drive yourself crazy by not telling him. Especially if she’s not a good fit for him. Do you think she is?”

“I… Also wanna say yes to that, but to be honest, me and this girl don’t have a great history. We’ve been patching things up lately but… Not a great precedent.”

“That certainly complicates things,” Olivia said. She offered me a hand up, and I took it. “But you’re smart. You’ll figure it out.”

“Thanks,” I said. “For everything.”

“Just doing what needs to be done,” Olivia said with a smile. “I should probably get back to my team, finish up repairs for the night. You take care of yourself- and let me know if you need a shoulder to cry on about all this!” 

“Will do!”

And with that, I watched her walk away from me again, but this time… I was okay with how we left things. 

I sat there a few more minutes, then wiped off my messy makeup and looped back around to the Calloway clan and the man I pined for. Kate had changed clothes- I assumed her mom had brought a dress for her and that was what she’d gone to get. She and Zeke were standing next to each other with very little spacing separating them, but at least they weren’t cuddling anymore. 

Kate leaped towards me and said, “Faith!”

“Hey,” I said, “You’re in a better mood.”

“Yeah,” she smiled, radiating a palpable warmth and giddiness, her eyes shimmering in the light of the streetlamp above. “Can I hug you?”

“Uh… Sure?” I said, wishing to God I’d said no. 

She wrapped her arms around me and giggled. “I’m trans, Faith. I’m trans!”

“Yeah, I kinda figured that,” I said. She wasn’t letting go of me, but her hug was… Not unpleasant. Her happiness was almost infectious. “Good for you.”

“Thanks. And, uh, I was wondering if you could help me with something?”

“... Depends on what it is.” Please don’t say ‘advice about Zeke’, I am begging you to say literally anything else-

“Can you help me with my voice?”

“Oh, uh… Sure. Yeah, I can do that.”

“Eeeee! Thank you thank you thank you so so so much!” she said, exuberance pouring through her and into me. She pulled away from the hug and looked me in the eyes, smiling wider than I’d ever thought possible, a smile that wasn’t a sneer or a smug grin or one that was in any way, shape, or form punchable. She was just… Happy, and pure. She was… Adorable, honestly. 

Her face was very close to mine- I don’t think she even realized it, given how bad she’d always been about personal space. But I had to admit it, she was cute, and the look Zeke was giving her told me he was thinking the same thing. 

Dammit.

[yourfriendanniefish]

ok maybe i'll try to elaborate, since it's all i'm thinking of.

or not, maybe it will just be more dumb thoughts all over the place, since that's more honest to my head rn anyways. carrying a week of memory within me. or, not even, just three days.

or more like five years, i guess. a history between two people that spanned my leaving of town. i never forgot.

here's what i wrote last week:

some sorrow some sorry

making a list of every time i cried this week

three hundred and one

the sickest joke to myself:

it’s been One Week

since we went in on the shared secret

gave truth to obviousness

and in the middle of that week

said goodbye

“for now,” i guess, you wish, and i wish

right now the thought of you is sharp

instead of softly stabbing

that’s the greater pain

living in fear of missing you after all

after all this of this what this was

after it all im left to sit and cry

and worry my friends

and bore myself with tears

ones i recognize

“oh, its you again,” 

greeting my tears

making a little pile of them

and thinking “maybe i will show them to you”

and just say “these are yours”

but im trying not to be cruel

because you just followed your heart

but it led you out the door

and yes, wow, does that all make sense. it makes me (again) walk it back in sequence, or close enough.

friday night, getting a text "can we get a drink and chat" and me thinking, after the preceding months of hanging out and it feeling somehow close, every time, so close, every time!, thinking "ah, well, hm, maybe something will...?"

OR,

okay, here's a personal history, one i kept telling all my friends the last month:

Anyways, we became very close friends during sophomore year. She was a very strong constant in that wild time. Going up to her dorm wasn't just an escape from my shitty roommate, it was a safe space. It was a warmth I couldn't have lived without. Naturally, I ruined it by falling in love with her.

It’s not like I even understood it at first. I unconsciously denied that “love” was how I was feeling. Then I just started full-on denying it. My friends poked fun at me, but for not saying anything about it. They all thought it was obvious that she liked me back Literally everyone I knew told me that, but I held off until nearly the end of the year, when I finally told her “I like you.” Her reply:

“oh.”

I stewed on this for a week. “Oh?” What did that mean!? It was near the end of the year, so we were both busy. Finally she invited me out to lunch. We went to a deli. I slowly sipped a Cel-Ray Soda.

She explained that she didn’t know what I meant by “I like you,” that the idea was so far removed from her mind she hadn’t even considered it. I was embarrassed, but I told her just that I thought it was more important to tell her rather than not. She sort of agreed with that, but then asked me “so if we did go out or whatever, what then? What do you want?” I didn’t understand the question. Hadn’t I told her? I just wanted her to know. Then I realized what she meant— she was asking me if this feeling was sexual, if I wanted to fuck.

I think I just stammered, “I don’t know.” My head was numb, I couldn’t really breathe, but I played it cool. I didn’t let her know how I was feeling. The conversation ended with “Well, I’m not really looking to have a boyfriend at all right now. See how you feel after the summer.” We went our separate ways, not going home together, as she’d moved out of the dorms before I had. I found out a month later she had started seeing someone.

I never spoke to her again.

(of course i once drew this memory)

so this was on my mind.

OR,

see, a friend of mine, someone who, over the course of the last year and a half of my time in chicago before i left, and then again and More over the course of the year since i came back, has been on my mind. and over maybe the last two months it's been feeling like it was ramping up to ...something, i don't know. there's just always been this magnetic feeling to it, this thing that draws us together, that makes us want to always be, in some way, touching, like our bodies just can't help it. but we never talked about it (and we never talked either about the times that we did act upon it, before i left five years ago, though that's certainly sparking in the air between us, because we know we know).

and once again, all my friends were saying "i don't know, man, it's got to be mutual," because i started saying "yeah i think i like her," and then i started to let that idea wash over me. what does it mean if i say "i like her" aloud to myself? it means (it meant) that i had to fold it into my self, i needed to bring the feeling into my life, and in theory i guess it meant that i had to actualyl say something about it to her and not just some dream i kept having.

but then instead "a drink and chat," and i am thinking "i should not get my hopes up" but then the time comes and the chat, in fact, actually is, "hey there's definitely something going on here, right?" and i say "well yeah" and she says "i dont know if i'm looking to be in anything right now" and i say "well i don't know what i want" but i manage to get out, in some way, that i do like her, and i don't know if it's about want but it is a feeling and... i don't know, and i say "it's funny there's this story that's been in my head for a while," and i tell her the story about the friend i never saw again and we both agree we can't let that happen. but then in a shade of that old story comes back in a "well what do we want? is it just the same as it has been but we make out sometimes?" and i laugh and half-jokingly say "well idk, that sounds nice," and we start holding hands even if we realize that neither of us really have an answer to the question our feelings are posing.

she drives me back to the apartment i'm staying at and it is starting to rain and my hand is on her leg the whole time and at every red light she puts her hand on mine too and we don't talk about that, we just make little jokes.

and we pull up to where i'm staying and we pause for a moment before she says, "annie, get over here" and we start kissing, and we keep kissing, and it becomes beyond just "kissing" at a certain point even though we're just kissing and it's a very "oh, uh, wow" kind of "this makes sense" moment (at least if you ask our bodies) and after literally twenty minutes she says "do you want to come back to my place" and i say "uh, yeah" and i will not share the rest of the night because that is mine but i walked back home in the morning light as a feather.

and the next two days we are texting each other a lot and it feels like testing some kind of water, like a "does this work" kind of way, and i feel good, like, i feel genuinely good. like i feel like "this feels like the end of a question i have been trying to ask for five years" and i like feeling like i know the answer to it.

and two days later i ask her about something and she says "hey are you home right now" and i am and she's already outside saying "can i come up and talk" and i reply "yyes" because i know what that means and she comes up and it does mean that.

and i don't know, i'm still in the middle of processing that. we sat at the kitchen table and she says she just can't do it because it doesn't feel right but beyond that she has no other reason and i say "well, okay" because i'm not about to tell her her feelings are wrong because they are hers but i still feel the exact shape of my heart as it changes inside my chest into something smaller, and i reach for her hand and she says "i'm sorry, i'm sorry" and i do not say "it's okay" because i feel in some defiant way that i should be truthful at least to myself and i do not feel okay, but we stand up and we hug and we both cry and we hug more and i begin to try to map out the room and the exact shape of this person who i am beginning to fear i won't see again, or won't see in the same warm way i was seeing, and that fear breaks my heart all the way and i cry more and she cries more and says "i'm sorry" and i hold her face and try to make myself remember how it feels and i think "oh god i don't know if i'll be able to look at her for i don't know how long"

because i realize there had been a thread, a thread that stretched back to five years earlier, when we first knew each other, but i left the state and we never really talked about it, so it just kind of stopped, but i thought about it a lot when i was gone. and i would remember flowers.

okay, here's the insane song i wrote last week:

no one still needs to hear

what i went through

another time

so ill tell you another form

a kind of hope

that kept me true

when i was trapped underground

i held this love

to keep me alive

in the darkness of my life

i lit a fire

and spun a dream

i thought that if i made it out

i’d see you again

i held onto that

i dreamt of the day when you

came up to me

and handed me

a bundle of warm fresh flowers

in your hand

and then in mine

i looked from the flowers to you

and back again

you smiled at me

you thought they would bring the light

and you were right

and i smiled back

i walked home from work with them

in my hand

and in my heart

i never forgot

i held it close

i reminded you of this day

as we wept

before you left

and i said, as we were still hugging, "do you remember when you brought me flowers" and she said "yes, of course" and i said "i have always thought of that." and that's true, i realized then it was more true than i'd thought. that even when i was about to die in new mexico i was thinking of small nice things like the flowers she brought me one time.

she kissed my cheek, i kissed hers, we kissed each other on the lips, at some slight angle that left a slickness off our lips, and she said "i should go" and i said "we could stand here forever" and she said "i'll give you some space" like a question and i said "yes, i think so" and she left and i put my head on the door trying to hear her footsteps down the stairs and i went back into the kitchen and laid down on the floor.

and in some way i'm still on the floor.

i'm "on vacation" right now and i can't shake this sadness. i told her i would send her a photo of the cactus next to my parent's house and i can't bring myself to do it because it terrifies me. i'm not ready, i guess, to talk right now, and that scares me, like i'm fulfilling the prophecy i was so afraid of. i'm scared we'll never talk again. i'm scared i lost a friend.

and i'm walking around a beautiful landscape and talking it out to myself and reminding myself 'it's okay to be sad right now," because something was lost even if something else can be salvaged from it. but it doesn't sound right to me, it feels too huge in my heart, and i think of the flowers and remember how much of a dream it was, that "this will keep you alive, this memory" was a fact i had burned into my heart and it feels like someone scraped that part of my heart away (i did, it was me, i scraped it off). i harbor only love and i harbor only fear.

i reminded you of this day

as we wept

before you left

okay, bye. sorry.

[thepartyresponsible]

back with more febuwhump, and there’s even whump in this one. i’m really getting my shit together these days.

@drgrlfriend asked for touch starved, so here’s a hockey au about frank castle, bucky barnes, and an alarming amount of yearning. warnings for references to unhealthy former relationships and also for an ambiguous, kinda sad ending.

- - -

Bucky’s not surprised he’s still a little out of breath when he hears the shower shut off. He’s a professional athlete, sure. They both are. But he’s not superhuman. And it always seems like Frank’s got something to prove, like he wants Bucky’s body to remember him for a while.

“Fuck’s sake,” Bucky says, when Frank leans his head into the room just to stare at him, hip against the doorframe, arms crossed over his bare chest. When he smiles, it’s mostly with his eyes, the delicate skin at the corners crinkling up and then smoothing out again.

“Want some water before I go?” His tone tips like he’s asking a question, but he’s assigning himself the task before Bucky answers, meandering around the hotel room, grabbing his clothes, collecting a cup, and then heading back toward the bathroom.

The dichotomy of it does something to Bucky, not altogether pleasant. Fetching water like Bucky’s something he cares about, throwing out before I go? like it’s nothing, like he’s easy to leave.

He probably is.

Frank could have this in every city in the country, if he wanted. Bucky’s the only one marking his calendar for each specific game.

He shoves the sheets down to his waist and sits up. Now that he’s looking, he spots a series of marks darkening along his collarbone, feels his face flush a similar shade at the memory, the desperate way he clung to Frank, the noises he made.

Jesus. Maybe those marks will fade by gametime, but optional skate’s in six hours, and someday the team’s going to put together the timeline.

It’s optional, he reminds himself. He could skip it.

He hasn’t skipped in two years, though. They’d suspect something. But a vague suspicion is better than showing up with the clear proof on his skin.

He’s going to skip, he realizes. He thinks he accepted that when Frank’s teeth scrapped across his skin, tongue following after.

“Fuck,” Bucky says, mostly to himself, wondering at the fact of it. “I think I’d let you do anything to me.”

There’s a sudden, sharp silence from Frank. The water in the bathroom cuts off, and all his quiet movements go still. When Bucky looks his way, he can only see half of him between the wall and the open door. Hips to shoulders, mostly. He watches the way Frank’s hands slowly curl around the lip of the sink.

“We do something you didn’t like?” he asks. He asks it the same way he asks everything, that quiet, even rumble, so it’s hard to pinpoint why it feels different.

Maybe it’s the way Frank’s hands are holding onto the sink, or the long breath Bucky watches him take, the stretch of his chest, the defensive set of his shoulders.

“No,” Bucky says. And then, “Jesus, I think it’s pretty clear I liked it. I think half the people on this floor know I liked it.”

Frank straightens up, grabs the cup of water. When he comes back into the room, his expression is flat and careful. “You’ve got this idea you’re loud,” he says. “You’re not.”

Bucky drops his eyes, rubs at his face. “Okay,” he says, because he’s not going to argue about it.

“And,” Frank says, “sometimes people change their minds. Liked it during, wouldn’t do it again. It’s fine. But you should tell me.”

There’s something, Bucky thinks, there at the very end. But you should tell me feels raw. Like, in the past, someone changed their mind about Frank, didn’t tell him until it was over.

Bucky heard about Russo. He’s sure Frank heard about Brock.

“That’s not what I meant,” Bucky says. There’s nothing to tell Frank except I like you too much, and I hate when you leave.

He doesn’t know when he got this greedy. Seems like it didn’t bother him so much before. But summer’s coming fast, and, unless they both make it to the conference finals, they won’t see each other again until fall.

When Frank sets the water down on the bedside table, Bucky reaches for it too soon, and their hands brush in midair like Bucky’s trying to hold his Goddamn hand, and he wants to pitch himself directly out the window, wants to evaporate, wants to disappear.

“Sorry,” Bucky says, because he is. Sorry, stupid, embarrassed.

Sad, somehow. Out of nowhere, over nothing.

Steve says he should tell Frank what he wants. And maybe it would be that easy, if he had the first fucking clue what he wanted.

“Hey,” Frank says, and Bucky looks away, chugs the water like hydration is going to save him.

When Frank’s hand touches his face, brushes his hair back and then just stays there, Bucky can’t help the way he leans in, can’t help how his eyes slide closed. Needy, Brock used to say. Fondly, and then not fondly, and then with disgust.

He likes Frank’s hands. Likes how they feel, how he uses them. Some days are bad enough he thinks he’d like anybody’s hands, but Frank’s are best.

“I just meant,” Bucky says, because it’s easier with his eyes shut, “I like everything you do.”

Except leave, he thinks.

You’re never gonna get what you don’t ask for, Steve says. But you get out of practice, and then you can’t remember how it goes.

Frank kisses him, lips pressed against his temple, another one of those soft moments that makes something ache in his chest and kick in the back of his throat.

“You want more water?” Frank asks.

That’s not what Bucky wants. But it’s sixty more seconds of Frank in this hotel room, and he’ll take what he can get. “Yeah,” he says. “Please.”

[elvisabutler]

I’m always a sucker for meet cute. Would you be open to writing something for Austin and a non-celebrity person meeting under mundane circumstances? I’ll leave it open, but let me know if you want something more specific!

i literally looked at this ask when it came in and had to clutch my face. one because you were requesting it and two because honestly i adore reading and writing meet cutes but haven't ever written one for this fandom. mostly because that's not what gets requested from me and generally speaking i just haven't had a good itch strike me to do one. but this is my perfect opportunity so i have to honestly thank you from the bottom of my heart for it. also blame that one podcast for this being a cooking class situation.

tw: a break up? a bit of depression related to that? this is tame. it's a meet cute.

austin butler - cooking is my love language

there is a universally acknowledged saying that tells you not to put all of your eggs in one basket. you've been aware of this saying since your mother drilled it into you when you wanted to only apply to one college, when you wanted to only go to a specific summer camp, when you told her you were only ever going to be with one person.

somehow you had forgotten that old saying when it came to learning how to cook. sure, you knew the basics and wouldn't be left completely defenseless but anything more complicated than pasta with canned sauce or simple chicken dishes and you were done for. thankfully you had been dating someone who knew how to cook since the beginning of your college years and beyond. you had actually been dating long enough that the fact that you weren't married to them raised more than a few eyebrows, your own included from time to time. it didn't matter though because you two didn't need to be married to love each other and to want to stay together plenty of couples did that and were fine.

you thought that until the exact moment you were broken up with and found yourself struggling to make a food that had developed into your comfort food since your now ex had made it for you for the very first time. you had no idea how to make it but knew that they had learned it from a cooking class they had taken somewhere downtown. it doesn't take you very long to sign up, something you're thankful for considering the late hour you're trying to do all of this. the class is set for next week which gives you time to- well wallow in your grief. if that meant that you used a bit of sick time to just sit at home and watch cheesy rom-coms and old hollywood movies, well, that was your business because it's not like you bothered anyone doing it. besides, you planned on showering and putting yourself together before you went to the cooking class in general.

putting yourself together isn't exactly the correct word for what you did. you did shower which you felt exceedingly proud about but rather than do anything special to your hair you just kind of let it exist. it was brushed and that was that. you chose something comfortable to wear, an old but not threadbare tee shirt and some sweats, unsure what exactly was going to be going down during the class. it's not like you were trying to impress anyone anywhere, let alone here. why would you need to dress up?

you're early mostly because you figured you were going to get lost and run late so you planned for plenty of getting lost wiggle room only to find that the room had about fifteen signs - you think, you actually lost count around sign number 7- leading everyone to the room. you take a seat in one of the barstools and take a moment to pull out your phone. you know you shouldn't mindlessly scroll through it especially when you need to edit your feeds to not have anything related to "person who will not be named" but you're bored and you've still got at least fifteen minutes before anyone else probably shows up. at least that's what you think before not even five minutes into your scrolling session you hear the door open. it startles you just slightly and has you looking up at the intruder.

he's- well he's familiar but you can't quite place the face. a shame because he seems kind of cute and he's chosen the same comfortable sort of look you have only with jeans instead of the sweats and a hat to cover his face and hair up. you hum slightly to yourself before turning your face back to your phone, figuring your partner in being early would take advantage of the timing and just sit wherever he desired. preferably somewhere not next to you.

your hopes were dashed the second you feel a tap on your shoulder and hear a voice- well it's a deep voice and one you wouldn't peg as coming from the reasonably lanky person standing there- asking you a question.

"you mind me sitting there?" he asks, tilting his hat up just enough for you to see his eyes. he's not quite pouting- though his lips do leave you questioning that assumption- but he does look almost as if you saying no might be the worst thing for him to hear for the rest of his life. you should say no, you're contemplating saying no before you motion for him to sit.

"i don't. wondering why you want to sit next to someone right now but- i don't mind." you shrug as he pulls out the barstool and takes a seat on it, somehow manspreading on a chair you thought would make it impossible.

he purses his lips and bites his lower one almost like he's debating if he wants to answer you and defend his actions. in the end he rubs at his neck and opens his mouth to speak. "i- i spent a lot of time during lockdowns and shutdowns alone. the idea of being next to someone is kind of- overwhelming but thrilling at the same time. i missed it. i really- if this is bothering you-"

"it's not." you say, putting your phone down. "i'm- i think i was just deciding you want to be like me and be a loner in a cooking class."

it's true, that's really why you had even had a slight concern with him sitting there because who really wants to sit next to a stranger doing something like this.

the laugh he lets out sounds warm in a way you haven't really ever heard before. a sunny day captured in a moment in time almost. it makes you smile despite yourself as you listen to him. "normally i would be. i've been painfully shy most of my life. i'm getting better at it but you seemed nice and i've needed an alive human being to talk to that i don't work with."

"you know that makes you sound like a serial killer, right?" you try not to laugh because it's not funny especially if he actually is one but who says something like that to someone they just met. "not accusing you of being one but- i don't even know your name- man, you know how that sounds?"

there's a moment where you think you've overstepped and that austin is going to get up before he rubs his hand across his face and just sighs. "i- i should have. sorry. i'm- my job had me studying someone who's been dead for 45 years. famous so it was a lot of stuff i had to study. still kind of wrapped up in him a little." he pauses. "austin. my is." he takes a breath. "my name is austin. i promise i don't trip over my introduction like that normally."

it's then that you honestly laugh for the first time in what feels like a long time. sure, you had only been single for a week but you don't remember the last time you actually laughed with your significant other. it was strange having someone make you laugh this easily. "y/n." you say between your laughs and you can't help the way you end up biting your lower lip. "i've heard worse introductions. teenage me actually gave worse ones. what do you do for your job?"

austin tenses and you can see his eyes dart around for a moment like he's looking to make sure no one is watching which is mildly confusing up until the point when he takes off his hat and you suddenly realize who you've been talking to. you manage to school your face into something that isn't shock before he answers your question. "actor. i don't know if you've seen it-"

"i have." you blurt out before your brain catches up to you and you clap your hand around your mouth. "i mean. you were good, great, i'd give you an oscar for that performance but i'm not an actor myself or anything." you take a second to breathe and look up at his face. "i'm not obsessed or anything. you were good, austin."

you see his face flush and he has the audacity look bashful before he rubs at his face and bites his lip. "you think so? think i'm actually good enough for an oscar? i mean i know cannes but-"

you stop him and nod your head vigorously. "oh yeah. i know people are talking about brendan fraser and we all love his comeback story but yeah, i could see you winning." you pause. "i listen to the river cafe podcast normally by the way. just so we can clear the air."

austin blinks and looks at you with a pained look. "so you've heard-"

you nod and look down into your lap. "mmhmm. i have heard. you already know how to cook and you’re in a cooking class.” you purse your lips. “why?”

the look of sheer distress and panic that crosses austin's face almost makes you pause, makes you tell him that he does not need to answer your question and it makes you want to put his hat back on his head so you both can pretend he's just austin the mildly attractive guy who can seemingly make you laugh. the second you start to open your mouth he puts his hand up. “i forgot how to make boxed mac and cheese. figured i might need a refresher on the basics.”

your eyes narrow before you raise an eyebrow. “the instructions are on the-”

“box. yeah. i still burnt it.” he finishes, looking suitably moritfied for the sentence he just uttered. knowing fully well you're aware he can cook pizza's in a wood fire oven and salmon on a plank.

“oh wow.” you wince at the idea. "that's- i can understand why now. i'm-" you pause, unsure if you want to tell him why you're here but he's already humbled himself so what's the harm in you doing the same. "my partner broke up with me. they normally did the elaborate cooking so i have to learn how to do some stuff beyond the basics."

austin looks like he's about to say something before more people start shuffling in and he plops the hat back on his head. he does mouth "later" to you and for some reason you find yourself smiling.

the class goes without too much fuss, austin staying hidden from everyone under his hat and you not giving anything away. your instructor has people pair up when cooking and you find yourself glad she does. austin's good even if he forgot how to cook boxed mac and cheese and he helps you stir when your arm gets tired and there's a moment when his fingers brush against yours as he grabs the garlic powder.

he stutters for a moment and holds the garlic powder close to his chest before he shakes his head. "sorry- i think i might have shocked you. you shocked me at least." a pause. "i know the recipe calls for just a bit of this but i made this for- i made this for an ex a while back, it tastes way better with more of it."

you wouldn't call the feeling you had a shock mostly because you don't think there's enough static electricity to cause that between the two of you but you don't correct him. "i'll trust you. you know more than i do."

the next words out of austin's mouth are not ones you expect and from the look on his face they're not ones he expects to say but he doesn't even try and properly stop himself. "don't worry, i'll teach you."

after a moment of mimicking a fish you nod and hum in the affirmative before just staying quiet the rest of the time until it's time to actually try your food. austin was right, it did taste very good with garlic and hum in delight, shoving another helping in your mouth without a single beat. you look up to see austin wearing the biggest grin- wearing a grin that you swear rivals the sun before he takes his own bite. he chews and once he swallows he offers an explanation. "i like knowing people like my food. you heard the podcast-"

"it's your love language." you finish for him enjoying how he blushes and chuckles quietly as he nods his head.

the rest of the meal and the class goes by too quickly for your liking and you find yourself not wanting it to end. not wanting to lose austin's company. you both stay behind for a moment, waiting for everyone else to leave so he can make a subtle getaway when he bumps you subtly with his hip to get your attention.

"i don't normally do this- don't normally give away my number but you- you seem nice and you're cute if you don't mind me saying. i'm not expecting anything in return but if you'd like i could give you lessons. complicated ones while you do these ones." his hand goes up to his face as he rubs at his lower lip. "you can say no."

your answer surprises you but all you can think is that you want to keep talking to austin in whatever way is offered. "yeah. i'll- i'd like that a lot. the lessons and i guess your number."

he smiles and nods a little vigorously before holding out his phone. "okay, cool. just put your number in, i'll shoot you a text."

"you can call too." you say as you put your number in under mac 'n cheese. "if you want."

"how else do you think i'm gonna teach you to cook while i'm filming?" he asked as he took the phone back from you and laughed at the name you chose for yourself. "never gonna let me forget that, are you?"

"never in the slightest mr. butler." you laugh before saving his number in your phone after the text goes through. "but- okay. i- i've got to go, promise i'm not just running away because you reminded me that you're a very busy actor but-"

"i get it." he murmurs stepping a little closer to you. "but you mind if i give- you might if i get a kiss before you go?"

you shake your head, the feeling of your ex a little too raw to contemplate kissing someone else on the lips. "not yet, austin. maybe next time i see you?"

he nods and grabs your hand just for a little squeeze before he turns to leave. "okay. we're gonna try pork chops next week, be prepared, mac 'n cheese."

the nickname delights you enough for you to actually take a moment to give austin a quick peck on the cheek. "will do, white peach."

if the sound of austin's laughter as you turn around and go your separate ways to your separate cars feels you with such joy you don't stop smiling until the next day- well that's your business.

but the fact that you might have replayed it over and over in your head to the point where you weren't that prepared for the pork chops next week? well that was his business and yours.

[ptersparkers]

everything has its place (peter parker) part 1/?

summary: the last thing you want to do is sit through a class you need to take in order to graduate but have no interest in. in comes peter parker.

notes: this is MUCH shorter than i’m used to writing but i have this lil idea in my head that isn’t fully fleshed out...anyway this is my mini project now so stay tuned for updates! 

warnings: typos, probably. 

listen to: everything has its place (aka the song that got me thinking about this)

Your friends always swore up and down that you always had a camera on you. 

It started in high school, when your friend-turned-frenemy had convinced you to take a photography class as an elective during your sophomore year. Your hobby, your expensive hobby, gave you a reason to leave the small town you’d grown up in. 

But it was worth it. The hours you spend on your projects meant hours spent away from the blinding lights and loud noises of New York City. It became a keepsake, a moment to excuse yourself from your friends to hide away with some peace and quiet. 

You’re on the up and up when your academic advisor tells you that you need one more upper division credit outside of your visual arts major to graduate. It’s the kind of news you aren’t thrilled to hear because it means you’ll have to forfeit taking Advanced Photoshop until the next semester. You’re particularly bummed because you know this class is meant to help you work on your capstone project—an attempt to assuage your guilt whenever you neglect your project for personal time—and you know you’ll need to make time in your schedule to work on it.

Particularly, you need to fulfill a remaining STEM credit. 

It hurts to admit to your parents—adoptive parents since you were eight years old—who are both in the medical profession, that you wanted to pursue photography as a career. Initially, they had been less than willing to accept it and asked you to think about career options during your first year of college. But you returned home on summer break with no intention to pursue being a STEM major, like they had hoped, and reluctantly allowed you to pursue photography full-time. 

It didn’t help your case that you were good with biology. Like, really good. The kind of good where you knew you had it in you to pursue a PhD because learning about cell and molecular biology felt like another Tuesday to you. The problem wasn’t your lack of intelligence, it was your lack of interest.

You find yourself sitting in BIOL UN3320: Regulation of Behaviors for Survival on Mondays and Wednesdays from 8:00am to 9:50am. You hate the way this class sounds so formal and you hate the way that you’re forced to wake up every morning at six o’clock to make sure you’re able to get to class on time. You particularly hate that there is no free version or an uploaded copy of the required reading. You wince every time you recall paying one hundred and fifty dollars for a discounted textbook. Still, you think it’s too much. 

You sit in your seat—you know it’s not your seat but it may as well be for the rest of the semester—five minutes before your professor arrives. The class is nearly full and you’re guessing the reason is because it’s the second week of the semester. Nobody has felt the immense stress and pressure of the school year and you savor this moment before you truly hate waking up before the sun rises. 

Syllabus week passes by with flying colors. The semester began on a Wednesday, the second day of BIOL UN3320, and Dr. Fonseca graced her presence with the promise that she won’t assign any rigorous work until the week after next. It’s now two Monday’s from then and you’re starting to wonder what the coursework is going to be like when Peter Parker sits next to you. 

Peter Parker. That tall, lanky boy who wears way too much brown for your liking. His hair is unruly and he always seems to be exhausted. More exhausted than the average college student with an internship on the side. Every time you see him, he looks like he was trampled over by a street car and lived to tell the tale. 

And yet, Peter always has a smile on his face. 

He sat next to you on the first day of class because it was the only seat towards the back middle of the class that was available. The first few rows were scattered with students and you had taken a course in this class to know where your favorite seat was. Close enough to tell what the writing on the board was and far enough as to not draw any attention to yourself. 

He didn’t talk to you until the second time you saw him. Peter’s first words to you were, “Do you have a pen I could borrow?” 

You looked at him with reluctance, begrudgingly reaching into your backpack for a spare pen that you knew you would never see again. Nobody returns borrowed pens. You’re irritated for the first ten minutes of class because a stranger asked for your pen and you’re annoyed because you’re particular about what you write with. You watched as he scribbled his messy handwriting on white lined paper but became distracted once Dr. Fonseca began her lecture. 

He gave the writing utensil back after Dr. Fonseca excused the class and thanked you for it.

Peter’s particularly chatty. You can’t tell if it’s his nature or if it’s his awkwardness that forces him to make conversation to cope with how awkward he feels, sitting next to someone he doesn’t know in a class full of people he’s never met before. He’s talkative in the few minutes between arrival and the beginning of class, introducing himself and his major before you can start to think about the class. 

You notice that he bites his lip a lot. Every time he says something to you, he bites his bottom lip when he’s expecting a response. You chalk it up to a nervous tick. He seems like he’s nervous to hear you reply to his comments and it seems like Peter can’t sit still. He fidgets in his seat and maneuvers his pen between his fingers during class, and you try not to let the sound of the pen falling on his desk distract you from Dr. Fonseca’s words. 

You’ve known him for all of three weeks and you’re thinking about him more than you care to admit. This is the hardest anyone has ever tried to be your friend, and you aren’t sure if you appreciate the attention or not. Peter never shied away from your attempts to box him out. You were always met with comedic wit and smart alec comebacks to incredulous answers from students in the class who clearly didn’t read the assigned text.

He’s cute, you’ll give him that. But he acts like he’s been your best friend since the seventh grade. You aren’t even sure you gave him your own name. 

“Do you like coffee?” 

You lift your head up from your desk to see that Peter has gracefully slid into the seat next to yours when you blink twice to adjust to the bright light of the room. Peter’s sporting white Nike’s and a sweater that doesn’t look like it belongs in his closet. He looks different than he does on other days, but you can’t quite understand why.

“I like soy lattes,” you reply, fixing your posture. “Why do you ask?”

“You always look tired when I see you,” he says. “Maybe you should get some coffee before class.”

He says it in a way that sounds genuinely sincere. But because he doesn't know you like he thinks he does, it annoys you to no end. You gather that he doesn’t know you always get a medium soy latte from the cafe down the street when you leave this class so you don’t have to divert your commute when you have your eight A.M. 

“You know, Peter,” you begin, “you shouldn’t comment on a girl’s appearance.  

Peter looks alarmed.

“I just mean that I think you should try to get more sleep or more caffeine so you stay alert,” he says quickly. “So you don’t fall asleep in class and miss notes. I didn’t mean to make a joke about your appearance.” 

You’re barely able to process his words because you’re still trying to wake up.

“You have got to be the only person I know who’s chipper at eight in the morning.”

When you take a good look at Peter’s face, you see a red gash on the side of his left eyebrow. It looks nearly healed, but you know for a fact that it wasn’t there the last time you saw him. You almost ask where he got it from before chiding yourself into keeping quiet. You’re here to fulfill a credit, not to make friends. 

“There’s no use in being negative about it, I guess.” 

There it is, Peter’s smug response that he doesn’t realize is smug but you do. You gather that Peter’s like that. He’s smart without having to think about it and far too honest for your liking. Peter knows when to shut up from time to time but his smart alec comments almost seem like they’re made to make you roll your eyes. 

“I’m not waking up earlier to fit getting a coffee into my schedule,” you retort. “If you feel so inclined to buy me a soy latte before class, by all means.” 

Peter doesn’t get the chance to reply because Dr. Fonseca walks into the room with her bag slung on her shoulders and the sound of her heels clicking against the hardwood floor apparent. She’s wearing pressed black pants with an emerald green blouse, fitted with sheer green sleeves whose ends are popping out of her black leather blazer. You’d like to think that if you had chosen to pursue a career in STEM, you’d be the kind of person who dressed like Dr. Fonseca. 

“I heard we’re starting a project soon,” says Peter. “I looked at the syllabus this morning.”

“Of course you did,” you mutter. Peter smiles at you despite it. 

“It’s so early in the semester, though.” 

You can tell he’s trying to make conversation but you don’t think about that. 

Internally, you start panicking at the idea of starting a project in a class you’re unfamiliar with. You hate that you were coached to feel this way ever since taking AP classes—the initial fear and dread of tackling a project that you aren’t confident in until you actually start working on it. You don’t let Peter see, however, and keep your eyes of Dr. Fonseca as she takes her blazer off and sets it nicely on the back of the chair. 

Class begins and you do your best to keep track of her words while you fish out your laptop from your backpack and open it to Microsoft OneNote. BIOL UN3320 sits at the top of the tab and you tune back in to what she’s saying when you hear the mention of a project. 

You aren’t sure whether to be happy or concerned when Dr. Fonseca explains that your first project will be dissecting different scientific articles to discuss with the class that following Monday. You aren’t particularly thrilled to know that each article is fairly long but you’re happy when she announces this will be a partnered project because of the dense text. 

Dr. Fonseca subsequently announces that each partnership will be chosen at random and it will last until the end of the semester. 

You try to take note of the assignment and pull up the PDF on the class page, where you read over the instructions and quell your nervousness about the first project of the semester. Dr. Fonseca begins to call out names and you anxiously wait to hear your partner’s name. You hope that your partner will be competent enough to follow along and you pray for someone who’s good with time management and discipline like you are. 

You hear your name being called after Peter’s. He looks at you and grins. 

Oh boy.

*✧･ﾟ───────────── *✧･ﾟ

please leave a comment/reblog if you liked this story! i don’t think i’ll be tagging anyone bc my taglist used to be looooong and it got stressful to tag everyone lol