#but it was fine and great it all worked out

[honeyybee176]

A couple years ago I worked at a cvs, and it was exactly when this shift started to happen. I had been there for four years, and I a great in costumer service, my regulars loved me and even commented they missed me when I called off a shift. Then suddenly corporate gives us a self check out.

Okay fine whatever, could be helpful for busy days, long lines and I’m the only cashier working cause lord knows they don’t wanna pay for anything but a skeleton crew. And that happened for a couple months. But then we’re told to only use the self check out machine,

literal word out of my managers mouth were ‘never stand behind the counter, if you need to check someone out do it for them at self check out’

I hated that so much. I did not do that. I stood behind the register my whole shift, and checked folks out as they came.

People thanked me. Most frequently the older folks, but really all ages were ‘thanks for helping’ ‘love that you’re behind the register, that didn’t happen last week’ ‘so glad you’re here’ I didn’t think it was weird or anything, I felt the same way, but whenever asked I had to tell people(in more costumer service friendly words)

“They told us not to help you”

My manager hated me. I had many other issues with him, I’m disabled and had an issue with attendance. And he was just a disagreeable person, that I frequently corrected the behavior of(me, a 20 year old, disabled, queer kid, and him a 40some “family man” who is the boss of me). We had beef, but not much he could do about it, cvs is a union job and I was an outstanding employee. Expect I didn’t use the self check machine.

He told me every shift I was on with him about how corporate want blah’ and ‘you’re supposed to blah’ I would say ‘okay’ and then not do it because it’s not what our customers wanted or needed.

He fired me, I was written up for my attendance. But I know I’m my heart of hearts his problem was me and my noncompliance. So despite 5years with the company(versus his 8months) and glowing customer review(versus his mostly negative) I was gone.

TLDR : employees, at least the decent ones, hate the self checkout too. Fuck em

>go to cvs for toothpaste and cold medicine

>hit button for employee to open the toothpaste case

>grabs it before i can

>"i have to hold this at the front for you until you check out"

>go to cold medicine aisle

>ring bell for employee to open the cough medicine case

>nobody shows up

>ring again

>nobody shows up

>check case

>case is unlocked

>take cold medicine and go to check out

>grab toothpaste from unmanned register

>have to use self checkout

>scan cold medicine

>"age verification needed please wait for employee"

>employee comes over and cards me and then leaves

>finish self checkout

>walk through literal piles of discarded receipts at exit door

another beautiful non hostile day in our great country

[reiding-writing]

i need a part where cold!reader shows the team that she has some empathy and some “love” for them and spencer being like “see, i told you she’s not that bad and she cares about you guys” 🫶🏻

LOVE LANGUAGES — BAU TEAM!

you show your love for your team members in specifically unique ways.

bau team & cold!reader | 2.9k | fluff | cold!reader masterlist.

main masterlist.

a/n — did this request slightly differently, hope it holds up okay <3

Your carefully crafted distance from the team has always been intentional. You don’t do vulnerability. You don’t do sentimental. But lately, there have been… cracks. Small ones, barely noticeable—except to Spencer, apparently, who won’t stop grinning every time you let one slip.

── EMILY PRENTISS

Emily looks at you with barely concealed surprise, her lips slightly parted as she registers what you just said.

“You’ll—wait, you’ll cat-sit Sergio?”

You roll your eyes and cross your arms, feigning nonchalance. “Don’t make a big deal out of it. I like cats.”

Emily scoffs, still clearly thrown off by the unexpected offer. “Uh-huh. Since when?”

You shrug, already regretting saying anything. “Since always.”

It’s a lie, at least partially. You don’t dislike cats, but that’s not why you offered. You overheard Emily talking about her sudden trip to London—something about an Interpol meeting, something she hadn’t planned for.

You’d also noticed the tension in her shoulders, the way she chewed her lip when she thought no one was looking.

She was stressed. And leaving Sergio behind clearly wasn’t helping.

You weren’t about to say any of that out loud, though.

Emily narrows her eyes at you, suspicious but amused. “You, the same person who groaned when I showed you pictures of him last week?”

“You were shoving them in my face,” you argue flatly. “Besides, I didn’t say I wanted to see cat pictures. I said I’d watch the cat. Big difference.”

She studies you for a long moment, then a slow smirk tugs at the corner of her lips. “Right. Well, thanks. I guess I owe you one,”

You shake your head. “Don’t get all sentimental. Just leave the food out and don’t expect updates.”

── DEREK MORGAN

The gun feels solid in your grip, familiar. The scent of gunpowder lingers in the air, mixing with the low hum of fluorescent lights overhead. You take a deep breath, steady your aim, and squeeze the trigger.

The shot lands, but not where you want it to.

You exhale sharply, lowering your weapon. It’s fine. It’s still a hit. But you don’t do "fine"—not in the field, and not here.

A deep chuckle comes from behind you. “You’re pulling to the right,”

You turn your head slightly, levelling an unimpressed look at Morgan, who’s leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed, watching you like he’s been there for a while.

“I know,” you grumble, flicking the safety on and setting your gun down.

Morgan smirks. “Do you?”

You grit your teeth, already regretting what you’re about to say. But you didn’t come down here for nothing, and you sure as hell didn’t come down here to keep missing your mark.

So, with great reluctance, you inhale and say, “What am I doing wrong?”

Morgan blinks. You don’t think you’ve ever actually asked him for advice before—not like this. Sure, you’ve worked cases together, listened to his strategies, but asking him for genuine help? Yeah, no. That’s new.

He doesn’t gloat, though. Doesn’t tease. Instead, he pushes off the wall and steps closer, his expression shifting into something more focused. “Your stance is solid, but your grip’s a little too tight. You’re overcompensating—tensing up before the shot,”

You sigh, shifting your grip slightly. “That’s it?”

Morgan chuckles, shaking his head. “That’s not it. But it’s a start,”

He moves to stand beside you, his voice lowering into something instructional. “Try relaxing your shoulders a little. Let the gun do some of the work instead of fighting against it,”

You roll your eyes but do as he says, adjusting your posture. You take another shot. This time, it’s closer to where you want it.

“Huh,” you say begrudgingly.

Morgan grins. “See? I know what I’m talking about,”

You huff, setting the gun down again. “Don’t get used to this.”

He laughs. “Oh, trust me, I won’t hold my breath,”

As you pack up, Morgan gives you a look—not smug, not teasing. Just… knowing. Like he sees right through you.

You scowl. “What?”

“Nothing,” he says, still grinning. “Just nice to see you’re capable of human emotion,”

You roll your eyes and walk out without another word.

── PENELOPE GARCIA

You don’t know why you let yourself get talked into this.

Actually, that’s a lie—you know exactly why. Garcia had been raving about some new "life-changing" snack all week, shoving it in everyone’s faces until they gave in and tried it.

You’d been dodging her persistence, fully prepared to hold out indefinitely, but then Spencer had given you that look. The one that practically screamed “Come on, you know you care,”

So, you ate the damn snack.

And you hated it.

Which is why you now find yourself marching towards Garcia’s office with the half-eaten package in hand, scowling.

When you step inside, she’s at her desk, surrounded by multiple screens filled with whatever classified magic she’s working on. She turns at the sound of the door, eyes lighting up when she sees you.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my favorite emotionally constipated agent,” she sing-songs. Then she sees what’s in your hand and gasps. “Oh my God. Did you actually try it?”

You sigh and hold up the package. “Here. Take it. I hate it.”

Garcia doesn’t even pretend to be offended. She snatches it from your grasp with a delighted squeal. “You tried it!”

You cross your arms. “It was awful.”

She ignores your suffering entirely, beaming at you like you just did something miraculous. “But you tried it!”

“Under duress.”

“Doesn’t matter!” She’s grinning so wide it’s almost blinding. “You never do stuff like this! Oh, I’m so proud of you,”

You groan. “Garcia—“

“No, no, let me have this moment,” she interrupts, clutching the snack to her chest dramatically. “You trying something I recommended is like… a solar eclipse. Rare. Stunning. Possibly signalling the end of times,”

You roll your eyes, but something about her excitement makes it hard to be truly annoyed.

You’d never admit it, but you don’t actually mind seeing her this happy—especially knowing you had something to do with it.

── AARON HOTCHNER

The bullpen is quiet, most of the team having gone home for the night. The only sounds are the steady clicking of a keyboard and the occasional rustle of paper.

Hotch sits at his desk, brow furrowed in concentration, his desk lamp casting a dull glow over an intimidating stack of paperwork.

You could leave. Should leave. You don’t owe him anything.

And yet…

You sigh, stepping closer. “How much of that do you actually need to finish tonight?”

Hotch barely looks up. “All of it.”

You glance at the pile, then at him. He looks tired—not that it’s unusual, but tonight, the exhaustion sits deeper in his expression. You know for a fact that Jack is waiting for him at home.

You also know that if you walk away, Hotch will stay here until everything is done, no matter how late it gets.

You roll your eyes at yourself before speaking. “Give me half.”

That actually gets his attention. He pauses, fingers hovering over the keyboard as he looks at you with quiet surprise. “You want to help with paperwork?”

You scoff, grabbing a chair and pulling it up to his desk before you can change your mind. “Want is a strong word.”

Hotch watches you for a moment, probably trying to figure out what your angle is.

“You don’t have to—“

“I know,” you cut him off, already pulling a file toward you. “Just… home is boring. Might as well do something useful.”

It’s a terrible excuse, and by the look on Hotch’s face, he knows it. But to his credit, he doesn’t call you on it. Instead, he gives a small nod—one that almost looks approving—and hands you a pen.

The two of you work in silence, save for the scratching of pens against paper and the occasional click of a stapler. It’s oddly… peaceful.

Half an hour later, the stack is significantly smaller, and Hotch checks his watch before exhaling.

“You should go home,” you say before he can. “Jack’s waiting.”

He studies you for a long moment, something unreadable in his gaze. Then, he nods. “Thank you.”

You wave a hand dismissively, already looking at the next file. “Just go before I change my mind.”

Hotch smiles—genuinely smiles—before gathering his things. As he heads for the door, he stops just long enough to say, “Good night.”

You don’t look up. “Yeah, yeah. Go be a dad, Hotch.”

He leaves, and the room falls silent again.

── JENNIFER JAREAU

You’re not even sure why you remember.

It’s not like JJ ever made a big deal out of it. She’d mentioned it once in passing—Henry’s birthday, some little party she was planning.

You weren’t even paying that much attention at the time, but the date must’ve stuck somewhere in the back of your mind.

And now, here you are, standing in the store, staring at a wall of toys like an idiot.

You don’t know what kids like. You don’t do kids.

But after several agonising minutes and an internal debate that makes profiling serial killers seem easy, you finally settle on a small toy car set. It seems safe enough—not too flashy, not too complicated. Just… something.

The next morning, you leave it on JJ’s desk before she gets in. No note, no name. Just the box, wrapped neatly in plain paper with Henry’s name on it.

You don’t need the awkward thank-you’s. You don’t need the attention. You just…

You don’t know why you did it, really.

Maybe because Henry is part of JJ’s world, and—whether you want to admit it or not—JJ is part of yours.

You’re at your desk when JJ arrives, coffee in hand, looking exhausted as usual. You don’t watch her directly, but you see out of the corner of your eye as she stops short, eyes landing on the package.

She picks it up, frowning in confusion. Eyes the brown paper cautiously. And then—

“Oh.” Her voice is quiet, surprised.

You keep your eyes on your screen, pretending not to notice. Pretending it’s nothing.

Then—

“Who—?” JJ turns, scanning the room. You immediately busy yourself with a file, but you can feel her looking at you.

You don’t react. Don’t acknowledge it.

And because she’s a good profiler, because she knows, JJ just smiles to herself and doesn’t say a word.

But before she sits down, she murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear:

“Thank you,”

And that’s the end of it. No big deal. No fuss.

── DAVID ROSSI

“You can stop hovering by the door,” Rossi says without looking up, expertly mincing garlic at the counter. “You’re already here. Might as well commit,”

You scowl but step further inside, arms crossed. “I don’t know why I let myself get talked into this.”

“Because deep, deep down, you secretly like us,” he says, smirking. “And because you lost a bet to Garcia,”

You grunt, leaning against the counter. “I hate her.”

“You don’t.” Rossi gestures toward the cutting board. “Hand me the basil,”

You stare at him. “Do I look like an assistant?”

“You look like someone who’s standing in my kitchen doing nothing. Basil. Wash your hands first,”

With a dramatic sigh, you rinse off your hands in the sink, grab the basil, and hand it over.

He hums in approval as he starts chopping. “Fresh ingredients make all the difference. Jarred stuff works in a pinch, but a real sauce? Needs fresh garlic, fresh basil, quality tomatoes,”

You raise a brow. “You take this very seriously.”

“As seriously as you take keeping people at a distance,”

Your expression twitches, but before you can fire back, he nods toward the stove. “Grab the wooden spoon. Stir the sauce,”

You narrow your eyes. “Are you—are you putting me to work right now?”

“You’re in my kitchen, you follow my rules,” He smirks again. “Unless you’d rather sit with Spencer and Garcia in the living room,”

You scoff but pick up the spoon, giving the sauce a slow stir. The aroma fills the kitchen—tomatoes, garlic, a hint of red wine. You hate to admit it, but it smells… good.

Rossi watches you for a moment, then chuckles. “You know, most people would just eat the food. Not ask about how it’s made,”

You freeze for half a second before scoffing again. “I was not asking about it.”

He doesn’t look convinced. “Mmm. Sure,”

You keep stirring, refusing to rise to the bait. But you are paying attention—watching how he measures ingredients by instinct rather than precision, how he tastes the sauce directly from the spoon with no hesitation, how he hums in satisfaction when it’s just right.

It’s weirdly… fascinating.

By the time dinner is ready, you’ve somehow helped chop parsley and even grated some fresh parmesan. You tell yourself it was just to make things move faster—not because you enjoyed it.

Not because it felt oddly nice.

Later, after everyone eats and you’re lingering by the door, getting ready to leave, Rossi claps a hand on your shoulder.

“Not bad,” he says. “For a first-time sous-chef,”

You scoff. “This was a one-time thing, Rossi.”

“We’ll see,” His smirk is knowing. “Next time, maybe you’ll even roll the pasta,”

You roll your eyes and walk out.

── SPENCER REID

It starts with the coffee.

You always get to the office early—partly because you hate the idea of rushing, partly because mornings are quiet and no one expects much conversation from you before eight a.m.

Spencer is always there early, too. Whether it’s reading, reviewing files, or just avoiding traffic, you’re not sure. But without fail, when you step into the breakroom each morning, he’s already at the table, book in hand, eyes barely open like he’s just rolled out of bed.

So, one morning, you make a pitstop. Well, not really. You stop by the same coffee shop every day. But this time, you leave with two drinks instead of one.

You don’t say anything when you set his down next to him. You just place it there and take your own cup to your desk, acting as if nothing happened.

The next morning, you do it again.

And the next.

Spencer never comments on it. But one day, when you slide the cup next to his book, he just smiles softly and says, “Thank you.”

You don’t answer. You just take a sip of your own coffee, pretending like it’s nothing. But it isn’t nothing.

Then, there’s the jet.

Long flights, late nights, exhausted bodies slumped in seats. The team passes the time in their own ways—Morgan with his headphones, JJ and Emily whispering about their latest gossip, Rossi dozing off before the plane even takes off.

And then there’s you and Spencer.

You don’t remember when it started, but at some point, you ended up in the seats across from each other, both reading in silence.

Sometimes, it’s your pick. Sometimes, it’s his. He has a habit of finishing first and noting down important page numbers for you to focus on. You roll your eyes but take it anyway.

There’s no need for small talk. No need for explanation.

You just exist together, turning pages in the quiet hum of the plane.

One night, after a particularly grueling case, you’re back in the office late, finishing up reports. Most of the team has gone home, but Spencer is still at his desk, scribbling notes with his usual intensity.

You watch him for a moment before you speak.

“You should go home, Reid.”

He glances up, blinking at you. “So should you,”

You scoff but say nothing.

Spencer tilts his head slightly, studying you the way only he can. The way that tells you he already knows what you won’t say.

He smiles—small, but warm.

“You like spending time with me,”

It’s less of an accusation than it is an observation. Like pointing out when you see a bird in a park.

You don’t roll your eyes. Don’t scoff or deflect or throw something at him like you do when he’s being particularly smug.

Because, for once, you don’t feel like pretending.

So instead, you just take a sip of your coffee, glance back at your report, and say,

“Yeah. I do.”

[omagpies]

Recently saw your roleswap AU and I’m loving it! I have a few things I’m curious about:

1. So by my understanding Anya failed her flight certification 8 times and PE was cheap enough to be fine with that? Did she never pass? Makes sense, I’m just kinda clarifying lol

2. Does nurse!Curly also feel like he wants to try something different in his career like in canon? Did he also not have enough savings after PE went under? Did he go to nursing school or did he also fail his entrance exams?

3. What’s Daisuke’s story in this AU? Did his mom push him to go to trade school to become a mechanic? Did he do that on his own and his mom suggested working with PE?

4. It’s so interesting to me that Anya tried E-dating after getting back to earth and seemingly got rejected based on her appearance, poor girl :( but I’m kinda wondering about Curly’s perspective on this, did he have feelings for Anya while she was E-dating and just sucked it up for her?

5. I’m kinda curious about Curly and Anya’s relationship pre-crash, was it a little bit flirty like in canon? Did Anya try to approach Curly with what Jimmy was doing or was the blackmail powerful enough for her not to say a peep to anyone?

haha gonna answer all of these at once! but first here's something on 5 :)

she never passed the Official Legit certification but passed what counts for it in PE (so, certified only to fly PE vessels) and kind of sees it as her last chance to make it as a pilot. still hopes to get properly certified one day, working at PE to make the money for simulator hours and exam fees

curly actually went to a med school on a football scholarship but had to drop out about two or three years in because he started prioritising studies over practice and the money got pulled. used the money he had left to switch tracks and certify as a nurse. joined PE because space travel sounded fun but is pretty bored of it because he doesn't get to do much on a regular haul. he isn't quite as existential in this regard as canon curly because working in a people-oriented nurturing profession actually makes him feel useful, he just wishes he could be more useful ya kno? has enough savings to be able to rent a place and find a job at a hospital, so overall it all kinda works out for him if you don't count all the horrors

i think in this au daisuke's mother actually pushed him to intern as a mechanic a few years earlier than in canon, which is how he met swansea (pilot with engineering background) and got inspired enough to go into trade school. by the time the events of the au begin he is a certified mechanic though not with a lot of experience :"3

curly has had the biggest fattest crush on anya almost the entire time of knowing her (i feel like he kinda spawns in already in love with anya), so her E-dating phase is kinda rough on him (like, Very rough; mans full on wasting away from his heart getting broken in tiny ways a hundred times a day), but he is king of denying himself and putting others first so he does his best to be A Good And Supportive Roommate about it. he even tries to date other people too! but with not nearly as much gusto and it never goes far. he is too whipped

there was definitely Something. i'll expand on it a bit more in a later ask i got about captain anya, but the tldr is that she goes to great pains to Act Professional and curly is never in a million years going to confess anything. and then jimmy's arrival blows it all up and any kind of romance plummets down everyone's lists of priorities. and anya never tells curly anything -- this is her problem to deal with, and with him being jimmy's friend there is a tiny part of her that is afraid of not being believed even though she overall thinks he's a good guy :")

anya writes all kinds of things, but it's all fiction. she dabbles in poetry, but her two main points of focus in prose are a) long meandering stream of consciousness type of pieces that span generations and have very convoluted plots and interpersonal relations (think woolf's waves meets one hundred years of solitude), inspired largely by the time she had to lie there and do little more than drift in and out of delirium and think, and b) shameless smut that starts out as your run of the mill romance and suddenly changes genres halfway through (funny how life can just Change all at once huh). she never really gains a Massive audience but does have a considerable number of dedicated fans of both categories

(more roleswap au)

[strayingawayy]

to love and be loved...

...the one where unrequited love is a bitch, but seungmin's there and he's warmth embodied

the world has always felt like an inside joke you were never let in on.

love, whatever that (bitch) meant, was a language you never quite learned to speak. you’d seen it in fleeting glances, in the way couples curled into each other on the campus lawn, in the tired smiles your mother gave you after a long day, in the way chan's eyes shined as he watched his drunk girlfriend blabber, in the silences between the notes of a tchaikovsky symphony... but you'd never felt it, not really. not in the way they wrote about in books or sang about in songs.

until her.

your best friend, your sun, your orbit. and for a while, you thought maybe this was it. maybe love was soft laughter in between classes and shared playlists and whispered secrets at 2 a.m. but then it started to hurt, like an ache that nestled itself into your bones and refused to leave. you wanted too much, more than what was yours to have. and you hated yourself for it and maybe you hated her too.

it was stupid. you knew it was. jealousy burned ugly inside you when she drifted too far, when she made plans without you, when she looked at someone else like maybe they were her orbit instead of you. you clenched your fists and swallowed it down, because what right did you have to feel this way?

and when you finally told her, when the words slipped out, raw and trembling, she had looked at you with those gentle, pitying eyes- and god, how you hated pity, especially on her.

“i love you,” she had said, “but not like that.”

it should have been enough. but it wasn’t.

so you did what you always did. you shut down. you built walls and sat behind them, watching as everyone you loved stood on the other side, too far to touch. within reach, just not enough.

---

"are you even listening?"

seungmin’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts, and you blink up at him from where you’re hunched over your laptop, the words on the screen blurring into nothing.

"hmm?" you mumble, trying to sound present as you fiddle with your rings to ground yourself.

he sighs, leaning back in his chair with an exasperated look. "we’ve been working on this project for an hour and you’ve contributed exactly three words, and one of them was ‘ugh.’"

you offer him a weak smile. "it’s a very versatile word."

"yeah? so is ‘failure,’ which is what we’re gonna get if you don’t start helping." but his tone is lighter than his words, teasing in a way that feels like an invitation to breathe.

you roll your eyes, leaning back and letting out a long, tired sigh. "sorry, i’m just… tired."

over the past few months, kim seungmin aka the stupidly pretty infamous everyone's campus crush had begun hanging out with you. what started of as a fist bump after a successful group project blossomed into something more. and you'd be lying if you said you didn't find the sound of his footsteps after yours endearing. the way his shadow flickered besides yours during the late evenings you shared, the way his pupils only ever dilated when he saw either the campus dogs, or you.

seungmin watches you carefully, and something in his expression shifts. "like... physically tired? or existential crisis tired?"

you snort. "little bit of both."

"great, same." he nudges your arm with his elbow, voice softer now. "what’s going on?"

you hesitate. it’s easier to keep it all locked up, to pretend everything’s fine until it isn’t. but seungmin’s eyes are patient, steady. and something in you cracks, just a little and just enough.

"i just feel… exhausted. like i keep giving and giving and i don't even know if there's anything left." your voice wavers despite yourself. "and no one ever asks. no one ever sees it."

seungmin’s brows furrow, and then he says it, so simple it nearly knocks the air out of your lungs. "i see it."

you blink. "what?"

"i see it," he repeats, quieter this time, hands fiddling with his sweater paws. god, fuck his little sweater paws. "you try so hard to keep everything together, but you never let anyone in. not really."

your throat tightens. "that’s because it’s easier that way."

"easier for who?" he asks, and the silence that follows feels heavier than anything else.

you don't have an answer. or maybe you do, but it’s buried too deep.

he sighs, nudging you again, this time gentler. "look, i know you’re used to dealing with things on your own. but you don’t have to, y’know? not with me."

something in your chest stirs, unfamiliar and terrifying and you find the words slipping out from your mouth before you can stop them. "why do you even care?"

he smirks, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. "i’m just hoping if i stick around long enough, you’ll finally contribute more than ‘ugh’ to this project."

you let out a weak laugh, and it feels... nice. lighter.

"besides," he adds, voice somehow even quieter now, "i care because it’s you."

your heart stumbles over itself.

---

time passes, like it always does. slowly, surely, the sharp edges inside you soften. your best friend's absence doesn’t ache as much anymore, and seungmin. seungmin, who never demands, never pushes, just is, starts to fill the spaces she left behind in ways you never expected.

you realise it one afternoon, sitting across from him in the library because somehow you're always in the library. it's easier to exist there with him, between books and silent breathes. he’s flipping through a textbook, his lips pursed in concentration, and it hits you all at once.

love, real love, doesn’t have to be loud or all-consuming. sometimes, it’s just someone who shows up. someone who sees you even when you don’t want to be seen.

you exhale, a soft, shaky thing, and reach out to touch his hand. just lightly.

he looks up, surprised but not unhappy. "finally contributing?"

you smile, and this time, it’s real. "yeah. something like that."

and when his fingers curl around yours, you think that maybe, just maybe, you’re learning how to be loved.

[tc-doherty]

I have been known to talk about this before but ooooh it really grinds my gears

I get that people explore all kinds of things, and different things can matter in different ways to people and that is all fine! But I hate it so much personally. For a lot of history (mostly talking about Europe here, but a lot of fantasy is 'based' on Ideas About Europe), it wasn't built into the infrastructure to Be Queer. It wasn't necessarily an identity, so much as a set of behaviors people engaged in. But at the end of the day, most people still needed to go get married and have children so they could actually survive.

I'm not saying nobody engaged in queer behavior, they absolutely did! A lot! And for a lot of history it wasn't even an issue. In the eyes of the church, sure it was a sin, but so were SO many other things like, you know, all premarital or extramarital sex in general. And having sex for reasons other than procreation.

Very rarely was there any aspect of identity or community similar to what we have nowadays. And there was also a very different understanding of gender and sex and behavior, which is all super fascinating to explore and gives you lots of ways to deal with this in fiction!

In some places, queer behavior was expected, but to be grown out of, or only in certain circumstances. In many places it wasn't an issue as long as you still did what you needed to do for your family (i.e., getting married and having kids). I've even seen this attitude still reflected in modern society in some places - listening to an interview with a lesbian woman in China whose family members basically told her "get married, have kids, get divorced, and then you can do what you want to do, no one will care at that point"

If you go look up the laws of Hammurabi* there four specific rulings about male/male sexual conduct that bring up some really interesting things about the society. About who owes who what based on what role they play, and what it might say about them, and anyway if you were upper-class and also the bottom and then decided you didn't like it, you could literally sue someone for fucking you as like......deformation of character, basically? Hilarious! Queer history is great and fascinating! There's so many ways to approach it!

People can do whatever they want, but queer as an identity (neutral) just doesn't really show up in my work. It doesn't seem right to me that my characters would talk about themselves like that, or that their societies would be built like that.

And it just doesn't do anything for me personally to have modern queer frameworks put into non-modern settings.

*It was a while ago that I was doing this research, so it is possible that it wasn't Hammurabi specifically but a similar legal code from the same period. But, you know.

he would not fucking say that but it’s he would not fucking talk about his queer identity like he was reading out of a college campus lgbt center brochure

[ilovebabygirls]

KANG DAE-HO HEADCANONS . boyfriend

tags — kang dae-ho × female reader | second person point of view | sfw headcanons | fluff | a bit of angst | pre-game timeline

warnings — not proofread | english is not my first language! | use of lowercase intended | stealing | vandalism | blood | injuries

word count — 8 094 words

last updated — 28/01/2025

requested by @literallypinkie

MEETING

YOU worked the night shift at a local grocery store. everything was much cheaper there than in hypermarkets and supermarkets in the area. many broke students, single parents, or even older folks with crumbs instead of an actual retirement plan would shop here. it was affordable and consistent with their income.

DAE-HO was a regular. one of the only persons who did not fit the usual customer criteria. he did not seem young enough to be a student and did not appear to be a dad with what he bought (mostly ramen, some snacks, fruits and frozen fruits, frozen food, protein yoghurts, milk and energy drinks that could give anyone a heart attack).

HE was always very polite. forever a smile on his face and something nice to say about the day. after paying, dae-ho always had some words of encouragement to give you for the rest of your shift seeing how exhausted you seemed. he would then take a seat at one of the tables displaced outside for customers and eat one of his ramen playing a game on his phone or watching a series.

LITTLE by little, pure politeness turned into small conversations by the cash register. these small conversations turned into taking your breaks with him where you got to know each other a bit more profoundly. these hangouts eventually turned into dae-ho waiting by the tables until you clocked out of work to walk you home. he claimed it was not safe for you to be alone so late at night.

EVENTUALLY, he asked for your phone number after another night walking you home. the two of you stared intensively into each other's eyes, waiting for the other to say something or make a move. he let out a small chuckle and said he should probably get going as the last bus to his street would probably arrive soon. you nodded pressing your lips together as you opened the door of your apartment building waving him goodbye. as you entered and walked to the elevator you heard your name being called out and immediately turned around seeing dae-ho holding the door open his mouth slightly open, his breath caught in his throat.

"could i get your phone number— or your instagram if you have one? any is fine, really..." he blurted out quickly. "we could hang out outside of work, you know... that would be great." he finished relaxing his shoulders.

YOUR eyes widened at the sudden outburst and you stood in place for a few seconds before widely smiling and heading to the building entrance, your phone in hand. "yeah, sure. i'd love that, actually!" you answered cheerfully.

ONCE you exchanged contacts, you gave him a sudden hug and walked back to your elevator. dae-ho waited until you entered the elevator to let out a long breath he did not know he was holding. he put his hands in the pockets of his jacket and headed to the bus stop, stupidly grinning.

AS for you, once you got home, you dropped your bag on the floor and started to jump up and down excitedly.

THAT WAS WHEN A BEAUTIFUL FRIENDSHIP BEGAN TO BLOSSOM

FRIENDSHIP

THE day right after you exchanged your contacts, dae-ho texted you a simple "hey ;)" when he was taking his breakfast. he feared you had only agreed the previous day to get him off your back as if you had not been talking for a month before he finally made a move.

DAE-HO was anxious the whole morning, checking his phone every thirty minutes to see if you had answered him. each time, nothing. not even left on read. delivered. at least, he was not blocked, he would reassure himself. he even convinced himself if you did not answer at all if would change his routine to find a new convenience store to shop at, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable and appear like one of those creepy men his sisters had told him about whose actions he witnessed himself a couple of times.

SECONDS felt like minutes and minutes felt like hours as he waited for this specific notification. he had to put his phone away, screen facing the table otherwise he would not be able to concentrate on the task he was supposed to be doing. he was getting weird looks from his coworkers, more than the usual glances. he could not care less as when his phone rang he rushed to the device, unlocked it and read your message stretching a smile back to his features.

"hii~! sorry for the late answer, i woke up late and then had to go to the bank. how are you doing? hope to see you tonight! :)"

DAE-HO was conflicted on whether to answer back right away and perhaps look desperate or to refrain and risk making you feel like he previously did. especially since he had already opened the text message, meaning he would be leaving on 'read'. he believed it would be rather rude of him and chose to answer right away.

"no problem! don't be sorry, it's normal! you have a life lol. i was wondering if you were up to hang out this saturday afternoon before you go to work?"

SURPRISINGLY, your answer was quick to come. "i'm up for that! do you have something specific in mind? because i know this place where you can eat and play arcades. if you're thinking of something else, it's fine. i just want to spend some time with you, anyways." your text read, making his heart explode in his chest.

DAE-HO agreed to your idea. you planned when to meet up and you gave him the address. the two of you were so looking forward to that day that you would talk about which games you would want to try out the most, who would be better at what (already very competitive), what food you would like to try, and if there were any prize to win at that place. Overall, you were very enthusiastic.

SINCE THAT DAY, THE TWO OF YOU HAVE BEEN INSEPARABLE EVER SINCE

DAE-HO and you have created a secret handshake you did every time you had to part ways. it is rather complicated and involves the entire body. going from a simple high-five to crossing your arms together and going in circles to finish with a chest bump. despite, the long and tiresome handshake, you still hug each other afterwards before going to your own whereabouts.

DAE-HO knows girl talk. he has mastered it. he might be even better at it than you. he had lots of practice being the youngest of four sisters. because of that, he loves gossiping. the two of you have a gossip session once a week where you tell each other all the drama that happened either between your coworkers, customers at your place of work or even things you have heard from absolute strangers. the gossiping session cannot be on facetime. it has to be face-to-face with snacks, a hot drink, and a warm blanket. it usually takes place at your apartment since it is slightly bigger than his studio apartment.

"so, you remember my coworker dae-jung, the old guy who has been dating that young secretary, eun-yeong?" dae-ho asked as you grabbed a handful of m&m's and began to organise them by colour. you let out a short hum to affirm you did know these people. "it was already a crazy age gap but i found out something even crazier. he is already married!" the man revealed as your eyes widened.

"how long has he been married?" you wondered hurriedly. "i have no idea. but, it's not the only thing about this whole situation. his wife found out about the affair with my coworker, eun-yeong, who, by the way, did not know she was the other woman, and she made a huge scene in front of my work building." you stopped organising your snacks, dae-ho having your full attention on him as you almost did not breathe waiting for the end of his story. "dae-jung literally begged her to stop and eventually she told him she wanted a divorce." dae-ho revealed. you were not surprised by this woman's decision, you were glad he got what was coming for him.

"is that all?" you wondered finally eating one of the chocolate in your hand. "nope." dae-ho continued, a wide grin plastered on his face. "so, they got divorced and dae-jung still stayed in a relationship with eun-yeong, however, my company has a strict policy on cheating, i didn't even know it was a thing, and because it caused too much drama within the company and apparently it could have a negative impact on our reputation. i don't really care if I'm being honest, but obviously, my boss does." the man nodded taking a sip of his beverage before resuming his story. "they fired dae-jung." he said as you cheered a little bit causing him to chuckle.

WHAT he was about to tell you next was mind-blowing. "eun-yeong was pregnant, and yes i used past tense. do you want to know why? because she got an abortion without telling him. he was fuming! he began to harass her, and she filed a restraining order which he did not respect and was eventually arrested!"

"it's crazy!!" "yeah, i know it's crazy!!" you both yelled out.

YOU never tell each other something wild that occurred through text, opting for a teaser text message instead :

"oh my god dude, you'll never believe what just happened!! i can't wait to tell you this weekend!!!"

DAE-HO hates all of your exes. you could be in the wrong during a previous argument you are describing to your friend, he would still find all the excuses in the book and side with you. you could have burned down your ex's house and in his eyes you would still be justified.

"i don't care, that person forgot your birthday and made it seem like it was your fault. you had every right to throw that vase at them!" he justified an expression of distaste on his face.

DAE-HO is a k-pop girl group stan. his favourite bands are girl's generation, mamamoo and twice. the two of you went to one of twice concerts in seoul and he was chosen during the random dance section where a person from the audience is shown on the big screen. he danced to 'yes or yes' with the light stick in his hand and you dying of laughter on the right corner of the screen. thankfully, some people had recorded it.

WHEN you eat together, despite it being totally platonic, you share your food. when one of you would buy a bag of chips, both of your hands could be found in it. an ice-cream? going from one hand to the other's hand. an apple? dae-ho, would use his strength to split it into two equal parts. dae-ho loves to share anything, to be honest. surely because of his childhood. he was pushed to share everything from food to toys and rarely had anything new just for him. it was almost second nature for him to share his food with you.

DAE-HO is the type to hold the fork in front of your mouth and ask you to open it to feed you. at first, you were flustered by his actions as he insisted that you taste his meal, clueless to the implications beyond friendship. he would then open his mouth without a word and make a sound for you to also feed him some of your meal. as time went on, you were not flustered to do it anymore, going as far as eating from the same cutlery without a care in the world. however, people would think you were a couple and would tell you how cute you looked together. at first, you would correct them quickly, a blush creeping its way onto dae-ho's cheeks. eventually, you gave up and simply thanked the person for the compliment. also, it was not as unpleasant as the two of you tried to convince the other.

"why do they think we're a couple? it's so annoying." you complained, rolling your eyes, and taking a bite of your chocolate-covered fruit salad. dae-ho nodded in agreement, giggling.

"right, that would be so gross." he replied, passing a hand through his hair, and avoiding eye contact.

"yeah, it's not like that between us..." you lied, unaware of the sad glance dae-ho threw your way before going back to his churros.

HE taught you how to play gonggi and now every choice has to be made over a game of gonggi. what film you would be watching tonight? a game of gonggi. which take-out place you are going to order from? a round of gonggi. who would be the first one to take a shower? gonggi, gonggi, gonggi and gonggi again. at first, you were not the best at the game, getting frustrated all the time, wondering if you could swap for a game of 'paper, scissors, stone'. dae-ho was adamant it had to be gonggi. The outcome was still the same, resulting in nearly all decisions being in dae-ho's favour. however, as months passed by, you got better at it, almost as good as dae-ho and now he had real competition.

DESPITE not being in a romantic relationship and affirming your relationship is platonic with a capital 'p', you give dae-ho so many nicknames ranging from "handsome" to "sexy" which started as a joke when the two of you were walking around hi=ongdae and this group of young girls who were partying made their way towards and began to flirt with dae-ho. he used you as a shield stating you were his girlfriend and the girls took the hint and left.

"so, how about we go home, sexy?" you mimicked one of the girls' voice. "shut up." he retorted amused walking as far away from you as possible as you had to chase after him.

FIRST DATE

IT was a mess. nothing, and when i say nothing, i mean it, went according to plan. from asking you out to the actual date.

YOU had been friends for about seven months by now, and everything was perfect between the two of you. boundaries were respected, you had a lot of fun together, you were there for each other when you were not feeling well and you would tell each other literally everything (too much information does not exist in this friendship, in your case it should be called tell me immediately).

HIS feelings for you grew gradually but skyrocketed the night prior when he spent the night at your apartment. nothing out of the ordinary, a usual gossip session, you watching a film and then some videos on youtube, you ordered take-out and eventually ended up in your bed. for the first four months of your friendship, dae-ho had categorically refused to sleep in the same bed as you, claiming he did not want to make you uncomfortable. you had to drag him by the arm affirming you wanted him to sleep in the same otherwise it did not feel like an actual sleepover. he gave in when he felt how comfortable your mattress was in comparison to your couch.

IT was past midnight and the two of you were exhausted. you were on your phone, scrolling through tiktok and you were showing dae-ho silly memes to make him giggle while he was trying to fight sleep. you noticed his eyelids close and open suddenly, as his face relaxed and tensed up quickly to give himself some adrenaline to stay awake.

"you know, you can go to sleep. you don't have to stay awake for me. if it's for the memes, i can just send them to you." you joked as you put your phone down on your stomach. dae-ho was already lying down on his side, all of his hair up in a ponytail and looked up at you. he did not try to argue as his speech was beginning to be incoherent due to fatigue. dae-ho pulled the blanket over his shoulders and made himself more comfortable. barely a few minutes later, soft snores could be heard from the young man.

SLEEP caught up to you ultimately and you lay down next to dae-ho who was already deep in slumber. you faced your back towards him and tugged on the blanket to get your fair share of warmth. when you were finally comfortable enough you unexpectedly felt a strong arm sneak around your waist and a body clung to your back. your breath was caught in your throat. dae-ho and you were not reticent to display affection to one another, but cuddling in bed was new. you did not want to wake up him since he was exhausted but you knew that pushing his arm away would do it. you were lacking a strategic plan when dae-ho's grip on you tightened. you felt your cheeks heat up, you and an oven could be twins at this point. his face was buried deep in the back of your neck. you could feel his soft breathing giving you goosebumps. ultimately, you gave up overthinking and fell asleep in this position.

OBVIOUSLY, you were woken up the next day by a startled dae-ho who jumped away from your sleeping frame and was profusely apologising. you dismissed his concerns with a sloppy wave of the hand as you were drowsy and told him it was alright. after all the two of you were that close, it would have happened one way or another. yet, he apologised one last time as he got up from the bed, stormed out of the bedroom and you went back to lie down face first on your pillow.

DAE-HO headed to the kitchen wondering if he ruined your friendship (that man overthinks everything). he decided he would make up for his mistake and prepare breakfast for you. you ended up waking up, sitting on the edge of your bed for a minute before staring blankly at the wall before you motivated yourself and got up, put on a random sweater and left the room as the smell of warm food filled your nostrils. you reached your destination and came face-to-face with an endearing sight. dae-ho in his baggy shorts and a green shirt in front of the stove making eggs. in the living room, the table was already set with two cups of tea, a few toast with jam and butter on the side, rice and kimchi. you took a few steps towards your friend, a grin creeping onto your face and greeted him. dae-ho turned around and greeted you back, surprised that you went for a friendly hug. he genuinely assumed your next interaction would be awkward, but nothing seemed to be bugging you.

"how did you sleep, handsome?" you asked leaning against the cheap counter. dae-ho cocked an eyebrow, glancing at you before setting back his gaze on the nearly burnt omelette. he quickly grabbed the frying pan handle and placed the omelette on top of the one he cooked when you were still enjoying the warmth of your now empty bed.

"i slept well... i think." he murmured awkwardly as you frowned at his response.

"you were snoring the whole night, i would have hoped you at least slept well." you laughed in an attempt to lighten up the mood, but the growing tension only rose as dae-ho remained quiet. you shifted your weight at the usual cheerful man's unexpected indifference. if only you knew how many thoughts were racing through his mind. dae-ho was overheating.

"i'm going to go to the living room... tell me if you need any help with that. thanks, by the way." you finished before leaving the kitchen, flopping onto your couch waiting for dae-ho and the eggs.

WHEN dae-ho finally came into the living room and began to place some eggs into your plate without saying a word, you pondered on how to bring up what happened. he would not do it himself, too embarrassed by the situation, and you could not stand the heavy silence in the room.

"so... are we gonna talk about the elephant in the room or pretend you didn't cuddle me to sleep?" you began shoving egg in your mouth nervously. dae-ho choked on his tea and coughed harshly feeling himself pass out. he was just being dramatic. you went to pat him on the back a bit to help him with his coughing and sat back down waiting for his reaction.

"i'm so sorry, i don't what came over me. it was an accident, i was sleeping after all. it won't happen again. that's why i told i should sleep on the couch!" he was frantic barely making eye contact as what stopped his rant was your laugh. he was quiet for a moment before ranting. "why are laughing at me? can't you see i'm panicking right now?!" he retorted pointing his chopsticks at you as you clutched your stomach, your lungs out of oxygen from laughing too much. you were even crying a little bit at dae-ho's helpless attitude.

"i already told you not to apologise, dae-ho." you managed to say after breathing a couple of times after his outburst and your cackling. "if anything... i kind of enjoyed it." you admitted, looking at the now flustered dae-ho. "did you?" you risked asking. it was the first since you woke up that dae-ho made eye contact, his mouth slightly ajar, thinking of an appropriate way to answer. eventually, he opted for honesty. "i did..." he responded timidly.

YOU beamed, his answer encouraging you to continue on this path. "i hadn't slept that well in a while. we should cuddle more often, don't you think?" you attempted some flirting to test the water. you did not comprehend which sort of confidence possessed you, but you were not about to complain. dae-ho's only answer was a quick hum, his mouth full of kimchi. the rest of the breakfast was quiet, however, not the same silence as before. this one was light, full of unanswered inquiries regarding the next trajectory of your friendship.

ONCE you finished breakfast, you lazily cleared the table as dae-ho insisted on cleaning the dishes. you reminded him that he prepared breakfast and that he should just go relax, you would take care of it (as much as you did not want to). as you heard the sound of water falling, you understood dae-ho was taking a shower. you had some time to contemplate your relationship with dae-ho. the two of you, as much as you loved to deny it, did act like a couple. apart from sleeping in the same bed, you would send each other a good morning and good night text every day without missing a beat, you would facetime each other every day, and he would still shop at the convenience store you worked at, though now, he would even pick you up after your shift late at night, even if he had nothing to buy. nothing casual about that. you had to find out.

AS you heard the water stop and the door open, your heartbeat quickened. you focused your attention on the utensil you were scrubbing harshly with a sponge. dae-ho made his way to the kitchen. his hair was damp and untied. he was wearing grey sweatpants and a green hoodie. he stayed by the doorframe as your movement became a little bit more clumsy, dropping a plate resulting in a loud clinking from the impact. wincing, you were almost done with the cleaning and dae-ho was still by the door. you raised your head and your gaze fell onto the man. it felt like time stopped. he was angelic. at least to you. to anyone else he was just a guy, but to you, he was so much more and it took that long to realise.

"have you ever thought of more? i mean... between us?" you gathered all the courage you had and asked, already bracing yourself for rejection. dae-ho's eyebrows rose as his mouth turned into an oval shape, no words coming out. you took it as a sign to continue. "we've known each other for a while now, and— unless i'm being delusional, wouldn't be surprising." you chuckled humorlessly as you looked away from your friend who slowly made his way towards you. "moving on, as i was saying, i think I've been kind of lying to myself. you see, i actually enjoy when people think we're a couple and i enjoy your company more than i should and— what i'm trying to say is, do you want to go out with me? as in a date."

DAE-HO was now only a step away from you, and you were still not looking at him. he sighed. "i was the one supposed to ask you out!" he complained groaning dissipating any remaining trace of tension. you were about to talk again when he went on a tirade. "i've been planning for three months now. i swear, you ruined everything. don't take it the wrong way! i had written this whole speech and listed all these reasons why we should date!" he explained looking up at the ceiling, his eyes firmly shut.

"you could have just asked." you chimed in and he looked at you dumbfounded.

"no way. i wasn't going to ask you out with some half-assed proposition. you deserve better than that." he said which melted your heart. he had been preparing this with his sisters, knowing they would be of great help to make something thoughtful and personal to you. "to be honest, the day i asked for your number was not only in a friendly way, but i am so glad you're my friend so i never tried to make a move. and here you beat me up to it."

YOU stared at him like he held the moon, smirking at his confession. "if you want, you can ask me now. without the whole speech, i guess, you can still be the one asking though?" you proposed and dae-ho calmed down. he cleared his throat, and let out a long sigh, as if the answer to his next question was not obvious.

"would you go on a date with me?" he sweetly asked and you threw your arm around his neck telling him you would love to as his arms made their way around you naturally.

IT MIGHT NOT HAVE BEEN PERFECT BUT YOU CHERISHED IT NONETHELESS

BETWEEN your confession and the actual date, dae-ho and you did not know how to ask around each other. if affection was not shy, now it seemed mandatory. you could not keep your hands off each other, whether it was a hand on a shoulder or interlocking your arms together walking down the street. as for the cuddling in bed (not only in bed, on your couch too), you two would deliberately do it this time, no more waking up startled, and you even initiated it, dae-ho happily complying.

DAE-HO organised everything. you tried to get him to let you organise together, but he claimed he should be the one spoiling you and as a gentleman, he would do so. he quickly realised most of your nights out were somehow dates. you would go to the cinema, constantly eat out, go to bars together, stay out late in parks, and have picnics. he was out of ideas and money, being in debt (which you were not aware of).

HE picked you up from work on a friday evening. you had asked your boss to change your schedule to go on this date instead of working your night shift. however, things ended up more complicated as when he arrived he found you still in your uniform jacked yet dressed nicer than usual (surely the outfit you had picked out for the date), sitting on the pavement, a scowl on your face. when you saw him, a beautiful bouquet of flowers in his hand and a confused look on his face, you sighed and got up grabbing the bouquet.

"i'm sorry. the person who was supposed to replace me had an emergency with her kid. something about fire. i don't know. we will have to postpone..." you explained upset. dae-ho was not about to let one obstacle ruin the evening, as disappointed as he was.

"it's okay. i will wait." he said walking towards the tables outside the store. you followed after him frowning. "you realise i still have three hours left until we close." you added for him to understand he would be certainly bored out of his mind if he stayed. "i know." he persisted as a matter of fact.

YOU nodded and told him you had to go back inside to rearrange an aisle and that he could call you if he needed anything. saying you were disappointed was an understatement, you were mad at your coworker but you also had to be tolerant she was a single mother with a low income. you were just a girl in her twenties without many responsibilities but paying rent and finding her place in life (not that easy either). you had been looking forward to that date with dae-ho the entire week. fantasizing about how romantic it would be, and maybe even kissing him at the end of the night. now, your expectations were crushed as you had to work. as you walked around the store, kicking an empty box that once contained multiple tubes of spicy mayonnaise, the bell by the door rang as dae-ho entered. he glanced around the artificially lit room until his eyes set on you.

"i was thinking, maybe we could have our date here." he proposed and you stared at him like he had grown a second head. he cleared his throat and continued to explain his train of thoughts. "i had reserved a table at this place we talked about a few months ago and since you're here we won't be able to be there. so, we should at least enjoy our night, here." he finished as one of the lights flickered. "as unpleasant as it can be..." he added jokingly.

YOU were not very on board with his idea, yet you caved as your boss was not here and you really wanted to spend the night with dae-ho.

DAE-HO spent the whole shift following you and moving things around the store. you even went fishing out a uniform jacket for him so he could fully immerse himself. you showed him how to use the cash register, and you told him about how some of the items were soon to expire but your boss changed the date and still put them up for sale. you showed him the tiny storehouse which was literally just huge piles of cardboard boxes sitting outside of the shop. you had him carry boxes in and out of the building and he was more than eager to show his strength, showing off and flexing his biceps like a bodybuilder. he would do anything to simply listen to the sound of your giggles. he never minded being perceived as silly by strangers (unlike the approval he profoundly craved from his father) if it meant having your genuine attention on him. during your break, you hid behind the cash register as there were not any customers, and honestly, if there were any, you would rather dismiss them than do your what you were hired for.

THE last hour of your shift was, to say the least, unprofessional. dae-ho and you would make ridiculous faces at the cameras and flip them off. you would run up and down the aisle, pushing a cart while he was sitting in it. you would eat snacks and throw the wrapper around. you just wished your boss, if he found out, would see the humour in it and not ban dae-ho or fire you (you abhorred the job but needed it desperately).

ONCE your shift concluded, you threw your hideous jacket as well as the one you lent dae-ho in your locker, not caring to lock it before running out of the store to join dae-ho. he grabbed your hand and the two of you headed to han river to appreciate the rest of your night. he walked you back to your apartment and you suggested he could spend the night there, as you did not want the date to end. both of you sat on the couch in a relaxing silence, staring at each other. dae-ho darting between your eyes and your lips. he slowly approached you, placed his large hand on your cheek.

"is this okay with you?" he murmured. you felt his hot breath on your lips. by way of a response, you captured his lips in a tender kiss your hands delicately holding his neck.

A CHANGE OF PLAN DOES NOT MEAN FAILURE FOR OUR LOVEBIRDS

RELATIONSHIP

DAE-HO was rather awkward at the beginning of your romantic relationship. unaware of how to act. he still felt like you were his best friend, which felt incredible. however, now he could unapologetically hold your hand when hanging out, kiss you whenever he desired, and hold you close to him during a film session. you had to reassure him that whatever he would do would make you the happiest woman in the world.

DAE-HO is the type of man to give you his sports shoes if your feet hurt. You would be wearing heels and the next moment shoes way too big for you. dae-ho would hold your heels in his hand. however, the sensation of the cold ground under his feet bothered him and would end up wearing your heels. noticing how amused you were by the sight, he would begin to strut and exaggeratedly pose like victoria's secret models (going as far as holding your handbag).

DAE-HO cannot spend one day without seeing you (which at first could have been interpreted as emotional dependence). he updates you on every little thing he does. obviously, he does not expect you to answer everything as, in less than an hour, you could receive around a hundred text messages (varying from funny videos to simple questions). after work or a date, one of you sleeps at the other's apartment. the first time you visited dae-ho's studio apartment, he was rather apprehensive. the lack of space with the sofa bed taking most of the space, the pile of clothes in the corner, his television placed on a white plastic table and the small broken fridge filled with unhealthy drinks and protein yoghurts (indeed most of his meals were taken at the grocery store you worked at).

DAE-HO'S wallpaper is a picture taken at a photo booth. in the top picture, he was kissing your cheek delicately. in the second one, you were kissing his face making sure your lipstick would leave a stain as a toothy smile tugged at his lips. in the third picture, you chose to pull a foolish face. in the last one, he grabbed you by the waist and kissed you, his hair concealing a part of his face as your eyes widened by the impulsive action.

DAE-HO'S way of telling you he loved you was a tad different. the two of you casually expressed the love you held for the other during your friendship. he wanted you to truly understand his feelings for you.

"i have completely lost myself to you. i am so in love with you." he blurted out one day. his confession had you spill some tears of happiness down your cheeks as you shared his sentiments.

DAE-HO will carry all the grocery bags or shopping bags on the way home. no matter how heavy they are. he does not want you to lift a finger. clearly, you do not mind as his biceps naturally flexes. he caught you countless times goggling at them. his ego is boosted. from time to time, he will taunt you, commenting that, with the way you stare him down, clothes are useless on him.

DAE-HO insists you give him a show every time you purchase new clothes. he will hype you up as you enter the living room. his compliments are over the top, yet, sincere. he will ask you to turn around to show him the back and pretend to fan himself from how stunning you look in this attire.

DAE-HO is the type of boyfriend who lets you customise him. he is not into fashion, therefore, any advice or opinion you gave him was taken into consideration. his style got so much better once you started dating. you think he should wear a certain piece of clothing? he will wear it the next day. you tell him a certain colour brings him out of his shell? now he has ten more clothes in this colour. you buy him a new hoodie? he will be seen parading with it for months. moreover, he loves matching outfits (as cringy as they can be) and jewellery. dae-ho would even go as far as suggesting getting a matching tattoo. you managed to dissuade him.

DAE-HO is the type of boyfriend who lets you do his makeup. he knows how joyful and excited you get. furthermore, his four older sisters would often use him as a walking mannequin (there are many pictures of him as early as the age of two all dressed up in oversized feminine clothes, messy makeup all over his chubby face as outside of the frame one of his sisters is still applying a heavy layer of blue eyeshadow).

DAE-HO also lets you braid his hair. it soothes him as he closes his eyes enjoying the sensation of the comb through his hair. scratching his calms in the right spots. once, you noticed how dae-ho and the 'hyperpigmentation' meme looked alike and decided to give him the same haircut as in the drawing. adding some dark red blush to your masterpiece, you posted it online with his consent. it went viral.

DAE-HO is fully prepared for that time of the month. he knows what you need to ease the cramps, he does not let you get out of bed unless it is to relieve yourself or take a warm shower to relax. when you are done, he ushers you back to bed with his hand softly pushing your back. dae-ho would make sure you were comfortably reclined on some pillows and would position your blanket up to your chin. dae-ho would head to the kitchen, and boil some water in a kettle to make some ginger honey tea to ease the cramps and warm you up. he has the heating pad ready with the tea.

DAE-HO would put on your favourite film, series or cartoon and snuggle you. nevertheless, if you prefer to have some space for whatever reason (the discomfort from your period or only needed personal space), he is out of the bedroom, still checking on you every now and then. he learnt how to deal with mood swings and pre-menstrual syndrome with his sisters, walking on eggshells around them during their cycle (with four sisters, either he was lucky and they had their period around the same time, or each one week of the month).

"babe, if you need anything you can scream my name." he said, his head creeping out of the door frame as you groaned contorting your body to find a position where the cramps were minimal.

DAE-HO knows what pads with wings are! he would go to your local grocery store in a rush to get them for you as well as buy your comfort food. this entire week is focused on you and your comfort. dae-ho just wants to pamper you.

DAE-HO takes pictures of everything, you included. his gallery is full of candid pictures of you and selfies taken together. you with a face mask on, you sleeping, watching television, doing your makeup, in a café, at the grocery store, in a playground at night or playing bowling. everything and anything. he believes you are the most gorgeous woman in the universe and he has to capture your beauty.

IT took dae-ho a while before he allowed himself to be fully vulnerable with you. he wanted to show you his manly side. his protective side. the marine in him. how his father expected him to appear. however, he was nowhere near a macho man, too kind and thoughtful. dae-ho was tender and could not conceal the adoration he held for you. it would be criminal. when he revealed the reason for his enlistment to the marines, it was during a panic attack after a nightmare. you were sleeping soundly. dae-ho had his knees pressed to his chest and struggled to breathe as he felt his chest tighten. he was pulled at his hair harshly (a tactic to feel physical pain instead of emotional pain). he tried to be quiet but his incessant rocking back and forth shook the mattress and awakened you from your slumber.

"baby, are you okay?" you softly asked, cautiously placing your hand on his shoulder. he tensed up and slowly looked up at you. his lips quivered and he burst into tears.

IT took a few moments before he managed to compose himself. his face was buried into your neck, and his hands were clutching at your shirt as soothed him. his body was spasming as dae-ho hiccuped between sobs. he was broken. you handed him some tissues to blow his nose and dry his tears. you grabbed him a glass of cold water and caressed his back as he gulped down the whole drink.

"you can tell me anything dae-ho." you doubled down as you offered him a faint grin. he knew he could trust you. he trusted you with his life. that is when he disclosed everything from his experience in the marines to his father's abuse as well as his mother's submission to the man of the house. how he was a very sheltered kid. how resentful of him his father had grown. how he was forced to join the marines, to make his father proud once in his life. how dae-ho had stopped trying to get his father's acceptance a long time ago and had not heard from him in years. his experience as a marine traumatised. he did not go into details to preserve you from the horror of the military.

YOU were flabbergasted. how could a parent abject his child to such treatment? his baby?

"don't ever hide anything from me, dae-ho. i'm here for you. i love you. i will help you. you're safe with me." you comforted, leaning to give a tender kiss on his forehead. he eventually fell asleep to the sound of your heartbeat.

YOUR LOVER WAS AN OPEN BOOK, OR SO YOU THOUGHT

DAE-HO kept his debt a secret for the entirety of your friendship. as time went on, loan sharks were tenacious and borderline stalking him, cornering dae-ho in dark alleyways. he could not keep his financial burden a secret for long. you find out the hard way, it was an evening without any news from your boyfriend. you had sent him multiple text messages and all were left on 'delivered'. you were getting increasingly anxious, assuming the worst-case scenarios. however, you were not ready for the reality.

YOU heard the front door open and groans from a man. dae-ho. you rushed to him and noticed blood on his face. you were freaking out. you had no first aid kit in the bathroom, unprepared for severe injuries. you had to act quick. you hesitantly grabbed him by the arm and stepped towards your kitchen sink. you seized a washing cloth and socked it in cold water before shakily tapping the fabric onto the open wound on his forehead as he winced. dae-ho was painfully silent. you knew you had to speak up. why was he unreachable for so long? why was he covered in blood? was it his or someone else's? thoughts kept churning around in your head.

"dae-ho... what happened?" you asked, holding his chin up to get a better look at his injury. thankfully, it did not seem too bad.

"i wasn't fully honest with you..." he admitted, grabbing your wrist and carefully placing it down. and then ensued your first serious argument.

DAE-HO despises arguments. the two of you rarely argued as he was helpful around the apartment (which is the bare minimum obviously) and considerate. but when you do, it is mostly over his debt and his insecurities. you keep on telling him he is the one for you and that his debt does not change the man he is, but he is certain you deserve someone who had their life together, not some guy in his late twenties who was a burden. each time, you reassured him by telling him you would always be by his side, through thick and thin. the hardship and obstacles thrown your way could never make you drift apart from the love of your life. furthermore, he is the first one to apologise, no matter what the topic of the argument is, loathing the tense atmosphere in the apartment afterwards.

DAE-HO wants to provide for you (like a "real man" as his father would say). now that you were aware of his financial situation, you insisted on quality time over gifts and spending money on frivolous things. prior to this revelation, dae-ho would get you a small bouquet of flowers on each date, would insist on winning you a prize at these scammers' stands at fun fairs, and would insist on paying most things despite his bank account being in the red.

DAE-HO is not the jealous type. he is very secure in his relationship with you. nevertheless, he would go to battles to defend you. once he got into a fight with a drunk man. the man in his forties had the great idea to follow the two of you and make inappropriate remarks about your body. the man called you derogatory terms that you kept ignoring until he attempted to touch you. dae-ho was quick to intervene. at first, dae-ho was polite with the stranger and firmly demanded for him to leave you alone. instead, the stranger did the opposite and in his drunken state began to attack your boyfriend. bad idea. dae-ho snuck his arm around your waist and walked faster to get away from trouble. the stranger brutally pushed dae-ho and, instinctively and pumped with adrenaline, the ex-marine threw a punch the stranger right in his face, knocking him out cold. dae-ho shook his hand as the impact from the punch hurt his hand, holding his hand up into a fist against his mouth with his eyes shut tightly.

"that was hot." you bluntly stated as you walked away from the scene?

DAE-HO loves to make plans with you for the future. late at night, you would be cuddling in bed and he would bring up how he wanted a big family. growing up in a big family made him want to have one of his own, desiring to be a loving father, unlike the one he had. he is already very good with children. he would make funny faces to try and make kids he encountered outside laugh. he is such a girl dad. gushing about how cute your future daughter would look in her toddler clothes, already picturing himself wearing a tight plastic tiara, seated on a tiny chair and playing pretend with his little girl who would be wearing a princess dress and glitter makeup messily applied on her chubby features. at the end of the day, he understands it would be up to you how many children you would have, if any. after all, you were the one who would go through the body transformations to give birth (one of his sisters was child-free, he was slightly educated on that matter).

DAE-HO wants to marry you. he does not have the money, but he finds himself roaming around jewellery shops, goggling at engagement rings, imagining himself one knee down in front of you making his proposal. for now, he would make paper rings and gift them to you as a token of his unconditional love for you.

[yelenasbraid]

maintaining professionalism pt. 2 — joe burrow

mini series summary — She’s a witty, stubborn athletic trainer for the Cincinnati Bengals. He’s the star quarterback who can’t take his eyes off of her. The more she works with him, the stronger the magnetic pull. She’ll do anything to maintain professionalism, and he’ll do anything to get the girl.

chapter summary — It’s the game against the Carolina Panthers. Morale is low, until the Bengals win and Joe makes an unexpected move.

warnings — fem!reader, angst, fluff, hints of pining, hints of enemies to lovers, language, somewhat proof read

note — there might be some twists to the game…i watched highlights to jog my memory but for the purpose of the fic some things might change!

tags — @starsinthesky5 @definitelynotdomanique @majestic87 @joeyb1989 @belleann23 @wickedfun9 @hannahjessica113 @kravitzwhore @musicforsnoopy @burreauxss @grandpeachpersona @noeesd19 @inlovewithcarsthatrunreallyfast @joeyburrrow @joeyfranchise @starkeyswomen @wellwellwellhereiam @xbriexx @grittysbiggestfan @dboanalagoaaoo @kazsbrckkers @harryweeniee

THREE LOSSES. Three fucking losses. Your mind was going a million miles an hour, trying to figure how in the world they managed to lose three straight games, not to include the preseason losses. There was the answer you’d have if you were watching, but there was also the trained answer, the one that would please the ones above you.

It should be an easy game. The Carolina Panthers, bless them, weren’t all that great at football. You also knew they were starting Andy Dalton, the former quarterback for the Cincinnati Bengals. It made for an interesting twist.

It was going to be an interesting game. You weren’t sure what surprises the Panthers would bring, and you hoped it wasn’t anything that would cause the Bengals to go 0-5. That record made your stomach churn.

The Queen City, Charlotte, North Carolina, was warm. You spent the afternoon trying coffee shops with some of the athletic trainers before they were due for dinner that night in the hotel.

“Alright, you’ve got some tea to spill,” Sydney, the athletic trainer you were the most close with, pointed a fork full of waffle at you. You both were sat at a cafe five minutes from the hotel.

“What? No I don’t,” you huffed, sipping at your coffee.

“Yes you do, you’ve got something going on with Joe,” she charged, sticking the fork into her mouth, pulling the waffle piece off.

“Uh, I definitely don’t. He pisses me off,” you huffed, tearing off a piece of your muffin and sticking it into your mouth.

“Yeah?” Sydney egged you on, leaning back in your seat.

“Yeah, he’s full of it. Every game I’ve told him he’s needed to give that wrist a breather, or at least wear some tape, and what does he do? Bat his pretty fucking eyelashes and tell me no,” you shook your head and sipped your coffee, Sydney watching on with a smirk. You definitely had a thing for him.

“He has pretty eyelashes?” Sydney smirked, earning pink cheeks and a glare from you. Sydney laughed, promising not to mention it again. At least for a while.

—

Dinner was nice. Joe felt satisfied after the meal that the team was served in one of the ballrooms of the hotel. He leaned back in his seat, resting a hand on his thigh. He was surrounded by friends, teammates even, but his ears caught you above everyone.

His eyes flicked over to your table, finding you laughing with some of the other athletic trainers. You always laughed with them, never with him. You always were tight with him, annoyingly professional. He knew that’s how it should be, but why couldn’t he just indulge? Just a little?

“Earth to Joe,” a hand waved in front of his face, snapping his eyes off of your face and to the face of Tee Higgins.

“What?”

“You zoned out again,” he pointed out, and Joe knew he did. He didn’t need Tee to tell him that. He felt his cheeks pink, shifting in his seat. He had to zero himself in; they had a game tomorrow.

“I’m fine,” he insisted. Tee knew otherwise. He could see how Joe looked at you, his eyes full of curiosity but sprinkled with affection. Joe liked you, in an unprofessional sense.

“Really? Because you’re basically undressing her with your eyes,” Tee teased. Joe shot him a glare, his eyes wide. Was he serious? He shook his head and scoffed, even though Tee was right. What secrets laid under your Bengals polo? What about under those godforsaken shorts that you wore all the time?

—

It was game day. Water jugs sat on the benches. Water bottles were filled. Towels laid on the back of the benches. The clock ticked down now.

Players threw and stretched on the field. You stood with Joe, watching as he threw to another athletic trainer.

“Feelin’ good?” you asked him as he caught the ball back from the other trainer. He cocked his head before throwing again.

“As good as I’ll get,” he hummed, flexing his wrist before he caught the ball again. His mind was elsewhere. He wasn’t focused on his wrist or his recovery, he was focused on the floral scent of your perfume, the way your arms glistened in the warm Charlotte sun.

“What does that mean?” you scoffed, your eyebrows knitting together in subtle concern.

“Why, you worried?” he offered a cocky smirk, his tongue flitting between his teeth as he threw again.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” you snapped back, earning a simple head shake from him. You shoved down the warmth that pooled in your stomach, ignoring the way he looked at you. You worked your jaw, scolding yourself in your head.

Why’d you have to fall for the damn quarterback?

Joe looked over at you, seeing the redness of your cheeks. Was it the sun? Or was he seeing things? He wanted to poke fun at you, tease you that he got you all worked up, but he couldn’t find the words. They seemed to have been choked back with your glare.

—

You stood off to the side, the Charlotte sun beating down on you. Your ball cap didn’t do much, it only kept your face from burning.

It was the 3rd quarter. After the hail mary to end the first half, the Bengals were up, 21-14. Your nerves were on fire. Your eyes flicked up and down the field with every pass Joe made. With every stop the defense made.

Why were the Panthers just now deciding to put up a fight?

Offense came off after the touchdown and extra point, putting the Bengals up 28-14. You grabbed water bottles, handing them to players as they came off. Joe grabbed one from you as he took his helmet off, sagging onto the bench next to where you stood.

“How’s the wrist?” you asked him, watching as he took a swig of water, swallowing it. His hair was sweaty, his face matching the color of his jersey with how flushed he was.

“Fine,” he answered shortly. Joe was fine with them winning, but something gnawed at him. He wouldn’t be satisfied until that clock ran down to zero. It wasn’t just that though.

“You sure?”

“Yes, Y/N, I’m sure,” he snapped, and you widened your eyes at him. You snagged the water bottle back from him when he was done. You couldn’t deny the ache his words left, the way they made your heart clench. You worked your jaw, rolling your tongue into the side of your mouth.

He wasn’t happy with the game yet. There was still too much time. Enough time to lose.

You didn’t respond to him, only scoffing and walking away, shaking your head. You took your shot at being concerned, and he completely blew it. He acted like he didn’t want help at all, that he didn’t want someone to actually care for him. If he didn’t want that, then you wouldn’t give it to him.

His eyes flicked over to you as you walked away. His jaw clenched, his hands folded in his lap. He didn’t mean to snap at you, not when you were just doing your job. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the shortened strands as frustration lapped at his edges. He really didn’t need to be this frustrated, especially about you. He wasn’t upset about the game, in fact, he was pretty proud of how they were doing. He was frustrated with himself, that he let you distract him enough to have the ball smacked out of the air earlier in the second quarter.

Like he could have controlled that.

—

4th quarter was a disaster. You watched as Joe threw a pick, as flags were thrown, as the offense fought for every yard they could. Your blood pressure was through the roof as you stood on the sidelines, your arms crossed over your chest.

The seconds ticked down, and you watched as the score stayed 34-24, the Bengals winning their first game of the season. The offense came running off, and you could hear the sheer joy and relief in their voices. You couldn’t help but smile, joining in with their joy as they high-fived you, as some even hugged you.

You didn’t expect Joe to come up to you, snagging his arm around your neck, bringing you close to his body. It was a shock. Your breath hitched as you caught a whiff of his cologne and his sweat. You forced a smile as you heard his laughs. He was relieved.

“I’m sorry,” he hummed, and you were caught off guard. He kept his arm around your shoulders, keeping you close. Your body thrummed, the wells of your soul overflowing with your feelings for him. You forced yourself to swallow, to remain calm, collected, professional.

“For what?”

“For how I spoke to you earlier,” he replied, “you were just doing your job,” he added. His hands shook with his nerves, with the adrenaline that pumped through him. He was touching you, and not only that, his arm was around you and you weren’t fighting him. It caused his heart to swell.

“What-” you went to ask for clarification, to ask what made him even think of apologizing, but he was called away. He left your side, like he didn’t touch you, like he didn’t share an intimate conversation — on your terms — with you, like he didn’t feel anything.

As he jogged off, he didn’t give you a look, but that’s because his cheeks were so red and his hands shook. His adrenaline pumped through his body and for a second, a mere second, he swore you were his girl. It’s the warmest he’s felt all season, and it gnawed at the strings of his heart.

[meadowfics]

I was wondering if you write about plus size reader, if yes then would you write about husband Jun -ho and a plus size wife reader smut (maybe with breeding kink)

If not it's fine

Btw love your fics 🫶

the more the merrier

hwang jun-ho x f!plussize!reader

your husband loves you, and wants to start a family with you

warnings: SMUT!!! nsfw!!! 18+. minors do not interact. praise, breeding kink, squirting, one use of "sir" towards jun-ho, unprotected p in v, praise from jun-ho.

jun-ho always makes it a point to compliment you every single day, no matter how small the moment might seem.

whether you're lounging around in your comfy clothes, dressed up for a rare night out, or even just waking up with your hair a mess, he finds a way to remind you how beautiful you are.

“you look so beautiful, did I tell you that today?”

he says one evening as you’re pulling on a hoodie that’s a size too big for you.

you pause, halfway through pulling it down over your stomach

“you always say that.”

“because it’s always true,”

he replies, stepping closer to wrap his arms around your waist from behind, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“besides, i like this hoodie on you. looks better on you than it ever would on me.”

he’s a touchy husband..always holding your hand, rubbing circles on your thigh when you’re sitting next to him, or pulling you into his lap when you’re watching tv.

he knows you sometimes feel self-conscious about your body when it comes to him picking you up or pulling you onto his lap,

however, the man is a police officer!! the man has more than enough muscle to love on all of you.

he’s never shy about showing how much he loves every part of you.

which is how you ended up in this position that you are in right now.

you're on all fours, your plump ass repeatedly meeting jun-ho's hips as your pussy fully engulfs his length.

"fuck!"

you moan, slamming your into the pillow as jun-ho hits all of the right spots inside.

the police officer's big hands rest on your hips, occasionally moving them to push your upper half back down on the bed if you break your arch.

"you feel so fucking good ahhh.."

jun-ho groans, moving his leg to hit a deeper spot inside of you.

"don't stop!"

you moan, clenching and unclenching around his cock, feeling your high coming.

"I-- fuck--don't plan to, love. this pussy is so wet."

he clenches his teeth, feeling himself twitch.

as he feels his high coming, jun-ho remembers the conversation that you both had about starting a family.

the both of you were ready, he was settled into his detective work and you were doing great with your career as well.

"can I come inside?"

jun-ho leans over, his front pressed against your back.

the sight of your eyes rolled back, your ass smacking against his cock, and your mouth hung open nearly made him cum right there and then..

"puh--please, sir."

jun-ho smirks,

"you want me to put a baby in you?"

the man decides to tease.

he groans as your clench around his cock, loving his dirty talk in bed.

"yes, yes p--fuck--put a baby in me!"

you moan loudly, almost in a pornographic harmony.

jun-ho fully paints your walls white and you squirt at the same time.

the man continues to hold the flesh on your hips as you both came down from your highs.

he pumped inside of you until he overstimulated himself..

you got pregnant <3

masterlist

thank you for the compliment I hope you loved this anon <3

[strawberrystepmom]

in the spirit of transitional seasons and new-er new beginnings, i present to you - an astrological event.

for the entire month of february, i will be accepting the following zodiac asks:

sexuality readings - if you provide me with your moon, sun, mars, neptune, and venus i will give you my take on how the stars influence your passion, love, and sex. note: these will have many nsfw elements. if you are uncomfortable with me making these kinds of assessments, please avoid this category.

special little guy (gn) charts - if you provide the birth date and some basic information about your fav, i will give you an at a glance of their big five minus rising. (sun, moon, mars, venus)

romance compatibility - if you provide you + your fav's venus and moon, i will give you a little run down of your at a glance compatibility and recommend an activity that may be a good way to get some quality time in.

ring or fling - are you in a little enemies to lovers arc with your fav? not sure if you're feeling it? let the stars help you decide to keep 'em or chuck 'em. give me their big four (sun, moon, mars, venus) and yours as well and i will give you the reasons why things may not work and you can decide from there. note: i am going to be honest, if you don't want an honest answer please avoid this category.

and additionally,

general zodiac questions - my inbox tends to stay open for these anyway but i wanted to make sure to lay it all out...it is just fine to ask me about the basics! that's what i'm here for! but i will be prioritizing the special categories up above.

now the fine print:

18+ adults only. i block all ageless and minor blogs that come into contact with me.

my recommended resource for running your own chart/your favs chart is cafeastrology but i gladly accept charts from any source if you have a preferred one.

any asks sent regarding astrology prior to february 1st will be answered between the 1st and 28th.

during this event, i am going to prioritize people who have not received readings from me during prior astrology answering sessions. you are more than welcome send them in if you have before, i welcome it actually, but im trying to keep things as fair as i can.

please be patient! i am one person answering these asks. they take a great deal of time for me - energetically especially. i do my best to be thorough and thoughtful so be courteous and use your manners, rudeness is the quickest way to get ignored by me.

please redact any information you do not want me to publicly post! i will be posting these asks with my responses, if you send me a screenshot of your chart please redact your birth time and the location for your safety.

[kedreeva]

I did already, but seeing the cabinet, I can offer some more!

You can't completely chew proof something with edges like this without getting into welding. You can make it chew resistant using the acrylic and seal it with aquarium silicone (which they will chew, but if you use a glove/tool to smooth the edges of where the silicone meets the acrylic this will a) make it harder to start chewing the silicone and b) make it harder to chew the edges of the acrylic. But ANY imperfection or edge they can find, they'll eventually chew. You can also cover vertical stuff with 1/4" or 1/8" hardware cloth (which you may be able to get coated with black so it's less visible/noticeable) which should prevent most chewing since they have a hard time getting through that size. Screen they will pull apart pretty easily, it has to be welded hardware cloth.

As for drafts- they're not actually that sensitive. I worked in research husbandry, and the ventilated caging piped air in through a hole in the back and that blew air all over the cage with pretty decent force, and it was only rarely that any mouse attempted to cover the hole (usually moms with newborn pups, and solo-housed geriatric mice that were having trouble with thermoregulation. If you're providing hides and warm nesting material, and you're not trying to blow in absolutely frigid air, then they shouldn't mind the air moving at all. I've known folks that keep mice in their garage year round, and the only problem is keeping the water unfrozen. So, whatever you want to do for air circulation, if it circulates air it'll probably be fine. Your best bet is to create flow- one vent area blows stuff in, one area blows stuff out. If you're blowing top to bottom, the air should be coming down into the bedding, rather than kicking dust up from it. All our flow hoods at work either blew air back to front (to toss pathogens out of the work area) or sucked/pushed air down top to bottom (so only clean air came down into the cages), and it makes sense, since you want air flowing into the bedding if possible, to keep it dry.

For dust- while most beddings are dusty to one degree or another, you CAN put bedding in a fine mesh or cheesecloth type bag and shake it out before use to get rid of the really fin,e particulate, BUT, there are beddings that have less dust. Ground cob is good for drainage at the bottom layer, and aspen holds shape well for tunneling.

You can also add stuff that's less dusty, like krinkle-cut shredded paper (which you can get in bulk for cheap AND pretty colors if you want to pay extra, or you can find some interesting shreds like this dictionary crinkle cut shred), but be aware that a lot of the little shops selling the colors in the second link are just buying in bulk and reselling small quantities for a huge markup. Which the reselling isn't bad, since many people don't need 10lbs of shredded paper, but you'll go through that much if you start giving it to the mice, because they LOVE IT SO MUCH. It builds great nests and helps bedding hold form so they can tunnel and stuff.

SO! here it is! The roof comes off with the rafters attached; the floor for the 'ground' level is also removable--remember that this is designed to sit in about 3 inches of litter. The windows are inset so that after this is fired, I can cut and glue in little panes of stained glass.

[asktheritochampion]

What are your TRUE thoughts on Link?

Oh, of course you'd ask me about that blasted little knight the first chance you get? Of course.

Ugh. You know, I knew of Urbosa and Mipha and Daruk all before the Calamity struck, they were renound for their stengths, and I knew one of us would be chosen to lead the fight - so I worked myself to the bone to ensure that it was me.

So who can blame me for being rightfully irritated when some blond pretty-boy Hylian nobody has ever heard of is brought in to lead us - the greatest warriors in all of the land??! It felt like a slight. Like a blatent statement of political favouritism where Hylians always have to be the great heroes while the rest of us are nothing but sidekicks.

Yes fine; he did prove his worth as a warrior in the end. He's a phenominal warrior - perhaps the only man I've ever met who could truely match my own battle prowess. But I'm still filled with envy and frustration that he was given everything I worked for just because he stumbled upon a sword. I wasn't even given a chance to lead the fight!

We all played just as much of a role in the sealing of Ganon as he did. He died too - and without our assistance with the Divine Beasts from beyond the grave he would have been killed again. Yet he's the only one who receives all of the credit for being the great Hero of Hyrule. The worst part is that he doesn't even want it! He's so obnoxiously humble - and everyone he meets loves him so dearly. Why is it so difficult for people to like me but they adore him? We're of equal talent! It isn't fair! I want to hate him for it!

But really I just- I hate myself and I take that out on him because it's far easier than facing my own shortcomings and accepting that I'll never be as good as him no matter how hard I try!

I'm obsessed with him! It's mortifying how obsessed with him I am. I can't go a day without thinking about him. He's on my mind constantly. I even dream about the agrivatingly gorgeous little twink.

I'm desperate to prove my strength to him just for a chance to get his attention. I want him to want me as badly as I want him. I want him so badly that it makes me look foolish. And I'm afraid that if I can't prove that I'm better than him somehow that he'll never want me back because I'm not good enough and he's everyone's golden boy so he has the option to marry a princess and become a king if he wants and-

HYLIA'S GOOD GRACES I CAN'T STOP. RAHLIN I NEED YOU TO DUCTAPE MY BEAK SHUT.

[1/10 🧪✨]

[writingwisterias]

Might be a weird request but could you do eras leon reacting to you telling him you wanna keep your shirt on during sex because your insecure?

Heyyy!

I can do this! I hope you have a great day 😘💕

Warnings: NSFW, Insecurities, Fluff, Comfort

Gn!Reader

RE2:

A sweet heart about it honestly

He would go to remove it at first, his hands itching to touch the skin underneath it but when you grab his wrist he instantly stops

His head is shooting up to look at you with concern thinking he's done something wrong

When you tell him his features falter slightly not in disappointment but just hurt that you feel like that

He'll make it his mission to show you how much he loves your body keeping the shirt on.

He wants you comfortable and if that will help then he's fine with it

Maybe eventually you'll feel comfortable enough

Re4r:

I like the idea that Leon is also haunted from his own scars,

no he's not bothered by them enough to keep his own shirt on but he understands more as to why you don't like it

He's not going to push you in anyway, he wants you to feel comfortable and fully be in the moment

So if having your shirt on is going to be the way that works for you then he's cool with that

He can kiss your breasts through the shirt anyway

Infinite darkness:

As soon as you let him know he'll respect it

but he's whispering sweet nothings about how much he loves your body and find it's so sexy

I'm talking like in detail about the effect you have on him and a simple thought it enough for him to get a raging boner

You are blushing mess by the end of the sex but he has helped you gain back some confidence at least

He won't try and find the route of your insecurities and just understand that everyone has them.

He wants you to know that he doesn't care and it's okay to be vulnerable with him

Damnation:

Might offer to swap out your shirt with one of his so it's looser

He doesn't care at the end of the day he just wants you comfortable

If you did swap to one of his shirts then at least the material is thin and breathable (thinking of his compression shirts) so you can still feel his touch and lips on your breasts through the fabric

His hands might slide underneath to hold you as I think he just enjoys skin to skin contact

If you don't like that then he'll just stop and hold you over the shirt or your thighs etc

RE6:

Places his hands either side of you away from that area

He doesn't want to draw attention to your insecurities only really make you feel good.

He'll avoid that area completely if you want him to

After sex he will sit and talk about it, opting to come up with ways that work for you in sex

I think Leon likes the skin to skin but is willing to sacrifice that are if you really don't want to.

There's always other ways he can gain the same contact.

Vendetta:

With his headspace I think he wouldn't really think about it

There's a lot happening in his head so its fair for him to respect your issues just like you respect his.

It would worry him, you are currently his main source of happiness by simply being happy

So hearing this he will work to make sure you appreciate yourself and know that he does as well.

He wont force you to do anything though, he's just going to make sure you are happy

He doesn't need the world ruining you too

Death Island:

I think he's the most compassionate one with the subject out of all of them

He's really going to nail it in your head that you are perfect, whilst still respecting your wishes

He's going to whispering and chanting to you everything he loves (Which is all of you)

Might occasionally pay extra attention to the area but only if you are having a good day, he wants to show you how much he loves it

Maybe leaving marks on your stomach so when you do look at it, you think about him instead of all the imperfections

[happysparklingshadows]

A Certain Hunger (5/?)

Chapter 4 ✿ Chapter 6

Summary: Just a random few days in the first Summer in the wilderness. (Y/n) explore her surroundings and the people around her in the wilderness to find some sense of control and agency. She is blossoming. Adult (Y/n) gets an unexpected visitor late at night and has deep thoughts about the right move going forward. She also needs to get ready for a romance novel convention, but she just can't catch a break from her pine-scented memories.

Pairing: Surviving!Poly! Yellowjackets x fem!reader (slow burn)

Warnings: Gore, Mentions of Starving, Mentions of weight, Mentions of Chronic Pain and Injury, the 90s setting with the views of the time, homophobia and internal homophobia, Coming out of the closet, Mentions of sex and voyeurism, Mentions of Cheating, Mentions of menstrual cycle, Stalking.

Word count: 16.7k

Notes: HAPPY NEW YEARS! Back in action with my monthly uploads, and I am so happy to have my first headcanon chapter that doesn't follow an episode of the show, I hope I can add about three in the first and second season that shows things more about the reader and her experience out in the wilderness when there was still a lot of hope. I even did a poll for the readers of this story to have a voice in the direction of this arc for the reader. If you have any questions or thoughts about this story, please let me know in my inbox, and if you have any requests, I would love to hear what you all think and want from the story. The three days that I focus on in this chapter are July 7-10,1996, during their time in the wilderness, and I plan on making a timeline written for anyone really into the story!

Day 1 

The hard ground under you was comfortable enough to sleep on, and maybe enough blankets and exhaustion made it the most comfortable place in the cabin. Your pillow's plush, fuzzy fabric snuggled against your cheek as you slept deeply. The pain in your neck rested just right as you folded your arm under your pillow. Your blanket was warm. 

A hollow growl rumbles in your stomach again as you rest. 

You have skipped another meal last night. Making it the third meal of the day you have skipped for the others.

The months have been getting to you.

You didn’t think you could avoid hunger, but you didn’t think your stomach would hurt this much. It felt hollow and sore, but you were mostly fine and had the same energy. You haven’t been getting as much fish as you did your first time fishing, but it was enough for almost everyone. You decided to go without for the past four days to help everyone ration out the food. Lately, you would catch about three fish daily, around 1 pound each for 16 people. It was spreading thin on the days when Natalie didn’t catch any animals, but you were content with it sometimes. 

You had two advantages over everyone else in the woods: you had wilderness survival, and you were overweight. It will take longer for you to suffer from starvation, and if you skip your meal, that just means everyone gets a little more.  You didn’t mind it, but everyone else seemed not to like it; not even the boys wanted you to go without unless you simply put your food on the table and walked outside if you thought the portions too small for everyone. You would just say you could handle it, and if you had a negative calorie intake, it wouldn’t be as harmful as it would be if Jackie or Larua Lee skipped. Sometimes Van, Shauna, Lottie, or even Travis, to your great surprise, skipped with you for everyone else to have more. It was those days when there was a whispering dread in your ear, making you think too far ahead for your liking. You didn’t like to think about the nights becoming colder and the food slowly disappearing, and only having food that you saved, which would be nothing as things were going.  

You worked your anxiety away as much as possible with the fishing and projects around the cabin, so you didn't think about it too much. You still hoped to be saved and didn’t want to think about the colder months unless you had to. 

A soft hand lands on your shoulder and gently pushes you back a few times until your eyes creep open, “Hey, get up.” Natalie’s soft voice comes to your ears as you slowly get up. 

“Wha- what's wrong?” You yawn as you sit up, your hands pushing the wooden floor. You wore your blue and pink striped lattice hem set your mom got you for your trip to Seattle. As you were sitting up, your shoulder peeked out of the top. Your clothes were slowly becoming bigger on you, and you couldn’t find it inside yourself to complain; you had wanted to be a couple of sizes smaller, but this wasn’t how you thought you would lose the extra weight. A thin layer of salty sweat lines your face and neck, feeling every small move with a sticky sensation tickling your flesh. The morning of July was as unforgiving as the day. You pray there will be rain today so you can get a break from the beating sun. 

“Nothing. I got some food,” Natalie said with a smile as she looked over your face. She was most worried about you not eating the last few days. 

“Really!?” You say as you quickly start to get off your makeshift bed from the floor. You try to pull yourself off the floor like you usually do, but your left arm gives out from under you, causing you to light thump back onto the floor, and a sharp stab stocks you through your stiff neck. 

“Are you okay?” Natalie asks, concerned, as she takes your hand, pulling you to stand with her. Her eyes are concerned and worried at your inability to lift yourself. Seeing the biggest girl in the group fall apart wasn't a pleasant feeling because she wasn’t getting enough calories. 

You chuckle as you place your hand on her shoulder as she helps you stand up. Your cheeks become hotter as she holds you up. When you are on solid ground, you softly push her off you and say, “Sorry. I was pretty tired yesterday. I don’t know why; I was just in the heat, I think.” 

“I could tell; you slept like a damn rock yesterday after I got back from hunting. You good?”

“Yeah,” you say with a little sigh of exhaustion, but you smile at her nonetheless. ”It must have been jet lag, " you joke as you run a hand through your hair. You find a greasy curl in your bangs that stood up the whole conversation with Natalie. You try to hide your cringe at the feeling of your own bad hygiene. After two weeks in the wilderness, most of the body smelled sensitivities left everyone after the deodorant ran out. 

“Looks like your prayers have been answered ‘cause I got us some rabbits.” Natalie chuckled as she rubbed the back of her neck and looked at you. 

You don’t notice how her eyes seem to study your movements, “The rabbit traps finally worked?” 

“Yep, we caught four rabbits this morning, but one was lost. Something got to it before we got up.”’ 

“A wolf?” 

“Maybe. But there was just a foot left behind.” Natalie shrugged her shoulders with an amused smile like she was going to laugh. 

“Did you keep it? It’s good luck. Maybe Lottie would have liked it.” You say with a little chuckle at Natalie’s face, and you just turn your head away. You felt your cheeks getting warm talking to her. Before the crash, Natalie was flirty with you, but now she seems more serious. She only talks about food and how people feel, but you always feel like she has a special interest in how you feel. Your stomach growled last night, and she gave you strong looks from the corner of the room.

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll be eatin’ good today.” Natalie jokes as she crosses her arms, leaning on the doorway to the kitchen, the second half of the first floor. She seems to be waiting for you to follow her to the hearth where Mari and Laura Lee are cooking the food, and the smells of meat cooking fill the whole cabin. It was making your stomach growl. 

“Good. I will eat until I am sick if I can." you say as you finally move to look for clothes for the hot day. Natalie's steel-blue eyes lock as you move to your bags on the opposite side of the small room. You thoughtlessly take off your pajama shirt and expose your bare torso. 

Now, after months in the wilderness, you have grown comfortable with your body being seen by others. It didn’t help that you all changed in the locker room together before the crash, but since there was nowhere you could go without peeking eyes, you have grown accustomed to just exposing yourself to change. Even if the boys were in the room, you didn’t even think about it even more because there are a lot of tits out here in these woods. Yours couldn’t be the only ones their eye see in the morning when everyone changes. 

It was a little different this time, and you felt Natalie’s eyes on you, tracing your back as you looked down at your pile of clothes in your luggage bag. You could hear Misty and Krystal quiet in their conversation as you move quickly to find a shirt; your chest softly jiggles for everyone in the room to see. You find a thin pink shirt and a Harley-Davidson shirt your dad gave you that you made into a crop top. You tell Natalie to break the loud silence, “Did you find the rest of the pop tabs?” 

“What?” 

“Wha-” You say as you throw a sports bra on yourself, “Pop tabs, Nat.” 

“Oh, yeah.” She says, quickly pushing her hand into her black jeans pocket and pulling out a couple of old pop tabs from the crash site. “These were the only ones I could find in good enough condition.” 

You throw the pink long sleeve over your head as you take the pop tabs in your hands and push them into your bag. “Thank you, Nat! I needed a few more to improve my net,” you say as you pull the crop top over your head. 

“What do you use pop tabs for again?” she asks with a chuckle. Her smile lingers on her lips, making you feel light in your stomach. 

“Hooks, " you crock out to her as you start straightening your hair as best you can with your fingers. “Just bend them back and forth at an angle, and they're makeshift hooks.” 

“Sick.” She says as she leans away from the doorway. She leans away for you to walk into the second living space. 

“Good morning!” “Morning!” “Hey, (y/n)!” was sent your way as you walked into the room. You smiled and waved back to everyone as you sat down at the table. Everyone had a pile of rabbit meat on their plates, but yours was slightly larger, with berries and the last of the fish jerky on your plate. 

“Guys!” you say as you look at your plate, worried everyone didn’t get enough food. But you are shut down by looks. 

“Stop it; it's yours,” Jackie says, smiling. She then leans her shoulder towards you playfully. 

“Yeah, please. We all thought it would be nice for you to have a big breakfast after skipping the last few nights,” Shauna says as she chews on some dark meat. 

“But, guys-” you try, but your stomach growls as you look at the freshly cooked meat.

“Just shut up and take your present,” Van says with a playful glare and shakes her head. Everyone laughs as you try again to make them take some of your portion. 

You eventually succumb to your urge to eat the meat. You sink your fork into the meat and shovel the dark meat into your mouth. 

You feel the strands of muscle on the rabbit leg you bit. You feel the juices of the fat in its body flush out of the strands as you chew on it more. You savor the gamey and wild flavor of the rabbit’s meat. You just moan as you keep eating everything on your plate. There was a click in the back of your throat as you ate. Your jaw healed weirdly after the crash, making you hear the tiny clicks as you swallow. 

You rub the back of your sweaty neck, and every step you take holds a tiny stab of discomfort at the base of your neck. It’s been two months and three weeks in the wilderness, and most of your wounds from the crash have healed beautifully. Your black eyes, busted lip, and burns healed within the first week, and the more significant wounds on your legs and neck seemed to take longer than expected. Misty said your leg took a little longer to heal than the other wounds, but it was because it was on the lower part of your body, and you believed her. But your neck has yet to feel the same. You know you should have had a brace on it, but you couldn’t find anything to make one without leaving someone without. You hoped that you would be saved before it became a problem. Luckily, it doesn’t hurt so bad anymore, but it felt like you constantly slept wrong on your head, having a stiff neck for the rest of the day. You have been messaging your neck as much as you could as you felt it becomes sharply painful, but you have made it a habit in the week of walking in these woods for hours. 

In another circumstance, these walks in the woods to the lake would have been therapeutic. The sun's rays peek through the branches and kiss the ground with light. The greenery completely consumes the environment, and with such natural beauty, sometimes you stand still, looking up at the tall trees. As you walk down the trail, you look up at the tall branches of the trees. At this point, it becomes almost muscle memory for you as you slowly approach the beach. 

You decided after breakfast to take a bath and clean the grease out of your hair and the thin film of sweat on your skin. You felt uncomfortable in your skin on a hot day out in the Canadian sun, and knowing your day would be spent sitting under the sun fishing, you felt like it was just time to wash and use some of your soap rations and lotion. You hold your toiletries bag, a new pair of underwear, and a towel in your hands as you stand on the end of the grass to the beginnings of the sand, but you stand in place as you look down the lake. 

There standing alone was Lottie in her nightgown, looking absentmindedly out to the sky, almost like she was trying to piece something together being written in the blue. 

You notice her absence at breakfast, and the last few breakfasts, she has been gone, and you always find her at the water, just staring out into space. It worried you, but you knew there was nothing you could do for the time being. The only thing you could do is be there for your friend. You didn’t need her to tell you to notice that there was a mental health issue underlining Lottie’s behaviors lately, even though she is mostly normal throughout the day. Sometimes, you would have a conversation with her so that she could only forget what she was talking about or completely state vague and ominous things without being able to explain herself. 

You softly place your towel on the big rock and untie your shoes. Then, you sit down as the soft waves brush against the hot sand, watching the brunette standing in the water. You stand up from the rock, taking your belt off, then your shorts, until you are in just your underwear. You unclasp your bra from under your shirt, slip the straps through your sleeves, and place your bra onto your towel next to your new pair of underwear. 

You walk toward the water, softly stepping into the cold, blue water. Water splashes caress your leg, hugging your body with fresh frost. As you walked deeper into the water, it was a painful pleasure to reach the unresponsive Lottie. 

When the water was at your thighs, you called out to Lottie, who was only a few more feet away from you, “Hey! Good morning, Lottie!” 

You decided the best thing you could do was be there for Lottie and ensure she was on the right track. You also had to comfort her and help everyone stay in the best conditions possible until you were found. 

She was deeply lost in her daze, but she seemed to slowly come back to reality with slow blinks when she heard your voice. She blurted out, “Huh?” and paused to rub her eyes with her fingers. “Um, right. Good morning, (y/n).” 

 You chuckle, playing down what you were watching, letting her get herself in order, “Hey, I saw you weren’t at breakfast when I woke up.”

“Have you eaten?” Lottie says in a deep, raspy tone as if she is sleeping but looking at you seriously. Hearing her talk to you like that was a little eerie, but it shows her concern about skipping meals. 

“Yeah, Nat found a lot of rabbits, and they basically gave me one whole one with berries. It was surprisingly delicious.” 

Lottie nodded, but her eyes looked miles away from her. She looked down at your body as you came beside her in the lake. She says as she doesn’t look connected to her body yet from wherever her mind is, “What’s the bag?” she asks as she stands still. 

“Soap and stuff, I wanted to take a bath, but I saw you out here and came to you. Can I ask you a favor?” 

Lottie's attention was now drawn to the bag in your hand and your thick thighs. "Yeah, Of course."

She didn’t move for a moment but blinked a few times, a clearer and more present look returning to her face. Lottie turned her body to face you fully. "What do you need?"

“Can you hold my things? I'll take my bath real quick, and you can take one, too, if you want.” 

Lottie blinks at you and nods, her hands out to hold the bag. You smile as you slowly place the bag in her hands. You say, “Is it okay if you hold my shirt too? I know you have seen my tits enough times, but I want to ask before I take it out,”  you chuckle as you look at her shocked face. 

Lottie laughed quietly, her cheeks darkening with a grin spreading on her cheeks, and nodded. "I'm sure I can survive the traumatic experience of having to see your naked tits for another few minutes."

You rolled your eyes as you scoffed, “Whatever.” You quickly take off your shirt and put it on Lottie’s shoulder to keep it from becoming wet. Lottie then glanced around to make sure no one else was there. 'We're alone here, right?"

“I’m sure, and if we weren’t, they wouldn't be seeing anything new.” 

Lottie chuckled as she turned her head back to you, her brown eyes scanning your face as she opened your bag. You move in with your naked body to grab the shampoo, start to dunk your head under the water, and stand back up to rinse the foaming soap. 

 You splash water on your head as you close your eyes and place the soap on the crown of your head. You move the bottle towards Lottie’s direction, then quickly wash your hair with both hands. 

Almost instinctively, you peek your eyes open. You see Lottie looking at your chest and down your torso. She doesn’t even notice your eyes, watching you gaze at her. You close them again and say to her, with a little laugh on your lips, “Wanna take a picture?” 

“Maybe, so I have it for later,” Lottie muttered. She took another longing look as you rinsed the grease from your hair. She said louder before you asked her to repeat herself, “I don’t have a camera.” 

“Guess you just have to use your memory, Matthews.” You laugh as you lean over again. After you rinsed your hair off the shampoo, you also decided to use some conditioner. 

“Don’t make me out as some kind of pervert or something, (y/n)!” Lottie says back with a laugh, and she is now looking at your face as you scrub the smooth soap through your ends. 

“I’m not, but I don’t know, you might be liking my tits.” 

“What can I say? You’re my girl crush.” Lottie says, looking harder at your form as your eyes closed. She quoted Cosmopolitan about movie stars and singers, but Lottie has been thinking she is forming some kind of crush on you since you both shared that kiss late at night. Lottie doesn’t know what to think, but she knows she feels safe with you, and Lottie knows that she is pleasantly surprised with how beautiful you truly are. “I also have a girl crush on Sandra Bullock.” 

You giggled as you rinse out the conditioner from the ends of your hair, “What the fuck?” You laugh as your cheeks grow in heat as she talks at you like this. You are happy she is out of her episode, but you didn’t realize that your tits were so distracting for her. 

Lottie laughs and says, “I don’t know, I am just talking.” 

From across the lake, in the thick brush, she watches with rasped and raggedy breath as she sees (y/n) in the water with Lottie. Jealousy runs through their veins like a heroine, making them hot off this intense hatred for Lottie and even (y/n). “Why is she always with other people? Why does she just show her body off like that? Doesn’t she know how beautiful she is? Doesn’t she know I would kill someone to touch her soft skin just once?” thoughts race through the teen girl's head. She wanted to touch herself at the image of (y/n) so beautiful and vulnerable in the water. If (y/n) was alone, they could have stood in the water bathing with her and watching the soap run down her body up close. It’s all they have ever wanted; it’s what they have thought about for years. They felt themselves retreating to the woods after the sounds of the girls' shared laughter got to their ears. It felt like knives were stabbing into their skin or like bugs digging into their flesh. Their hands formed into hard fists as they stormed away from the shoreline. They couldn’t take much more of this. 

After your bath, you and Lottie separated for the rest of the day. You went to your new fishing spot with your makeshift fishing net, and Lottie returned to the cabin to do laundry. She stopped by with a basket on her hip alongside Laura Lee and Van. They asked if you needed help bringing the two medium-sized grey fish, but you declined. You work hard to weave fishing lines and waterlogged weeds into a sturdy fishing net with two thick branches to anchor the netting. You would bend pop tabs at an angle until they broke, making a hook to braid into the net. You were almost halfway done with this project, but you needed to constantly work on the net to finish it before midseason when fish became less active. 

When you leaned into your braiding, the small remaining hole on the tab got stuck on the fishing line in a specific braid. You let your fishing pole sit lazily next to you. You put a small frog as your bait this time, but there wasn’t even the smallest bite for the last hour. 

Suddenly, as you are weaving the netting, your fishing pole lunges forward, almost getting thrust into the lake water. You quickly drop the net and rush over to your old, rusty fishing pole, and before there is another thrust forward, you grab hold of it. 

A mighty thrust forward caused you to step into the water, and you panicked with the pole. You quickly tried to reel in the line, but it didn’t move; instead, it moved you. 

You looked down at the water with wide eyes. As you saw the clear fishing line thrash about quickly, you stepped back and decided that the best course of action was to pull it to the surface. 

You slip on the mud, and your back leans on a tree as you struggle to pull in the heavy creature at the other end. You panic as you start to feel yourself being pulled forward again into the water by a strong force. You pull the pole with you, both hands on the reel and rod, and rush back to where you sat for hours. Surprisingly, the creature at the other end seemed spooked by you; pulling it forward, the turtle stilled, and as you rushed back to your spot from before, the green ball came to the mud with a low hiss coming into the air. 

You look behind you to see an ugly, large, snapping turtle staring you down. The fishing line is in the turtle's beak, most likely in its stomach, as it ate the frog. 

You were amazed, but you were also scared. You didn’t know what to do, so you stared at him. A few feet away, he stood, afraid, hissing at you. He was at least 25 lbs without his rocky shell. 

SNAP! SNAP! 

Before you could pull him in more, he lunged at you with two great snaps of his jaw, missing you each time but getting closer to you with each bite. He stands a foot away from you with his mouth open to whine a hiss. 

You couldn’t think but quickly backed up again and looked for your knife. You grab it quickly before the turtle can react. You pull him in with all the strength in your arm. He hissed as his body lifted from the ground, and he hung from the line in pain from the hook in his throat. You try to stab the turtle’s neck to kill him, but he reacts quickly.

SNAP! 

You moved quickly out of the way and luckily didn’t lose your finger. You rejected not letting the others help you because now you were dealing with more than before. You didn’t want to let the turtle go, but you didn’t have the strength to keep him in the air like that. You tried again, and he snapped at you. You then decided to put the fishing line on a lower branch of the tree next to you.

You take a trig growing from the broken branch to distract the panicking snapping turtle. You annoy the turtle with a twig to the face, and the turtle snaps onto the twig like it’s nothing, but as he is distracted with the twig, you stab the turtle in the back of its head. The blade pops through its head through the turtle's left eye, popping the small ball out of the socket and making you cringe. You pull the blade from the turtle's head and pull the massive beast from the tree. 

You gave up on the rest of the day after killing the turtle. It was a very taxing experience fighting with an adult snapping turtle, and you pack up for the day. You put your little tabs in the fishing box, and your net inside the box handle to walk home. You put the two gray fishes on the stomach of the snapping turtle as you held onto its shell. Walking home with the big guy was laborious, but it was worth it. You knew how much food he would be if you brought him back, so you kept walking with the turtle, weighing you down. 

When you got to the cabin, everyone circled Natalie, who held a small beaver in her hands. They cheered when you came to view and seemed beyond excited that both of you caught huge catches you had for them all. There was enough food for everyone for the next couple of days, and it could be spread out for 5 days.

Everyone decided to jerk the beaver and fish to keep them longer and to eat the turtle because Mari could make so much soup from it.  

Jackie looked at the slimy moss-green turtle with a curled lip and narrow eyes, “I’m not eating that.” 

“What?” Mari says and steps into your space to look at the turtle. Mari picks up the turtle from its shell with both hands and huffs at the weight as if she knew how to handle the beast. “My mom makes killer turtle soup. We can cook it with its shell. We just have to scrub him up, and we have a whole soup!” Mari smiles as she struggles with now Misty to bring the dead turtle to the porch. 

You held the two small grey fish by their tailfins and added to Mari, “Don’t we have some carrots and spring onions?”

Jackie gave you a sideways glance at the mention of the bendy forest purple carrots you all found by the plane. The carrots naturally grew on the vine marshy ground the plane lay on. They were a fantastic find. The problem was preserving them long enough to eat throughout the days because they were root vegetables. They were bendable and weak but still were edible. “This sounds so gross.” 

“You’re such a stick in the mud, Jackie. Just think it’s rabbit.” Mari says as she starts to wipe the turtle from its blood with a rag. 

“Dude, look at it! It looks like a slug!”

“Dude!” Shauna says to Jackie, nudging her shoulder to make her stop talking badly about their dinner. 

“I would rather have the beaver!” Jackie yelled with defensiveness, her eyes big and wide and serious. 

A snicker from Van started it, making you laugh out loud and making everyone giggle at the joke Jackie unintentionally made. 

“Beaver.” Van says, and it makes everyone laugh harder. Jackie rolls her eyes with a loud ugh. She stomps off to the back of the cabin to get away from the laughing and her unintentional pussy joke.

Late that night, after everyone had eaten the turtle soup, you sat outside on the porch, writing about your day with your journal in your lap. You had picked up the habit from Shauna, and you both decided to write about your experience out in the woods so that if you were found, people would know what happened in your time stranded. You have been becoming lazy with your journal lately because there has been nothing new to write about. You have been fishing, talking with your friends, and worrying about your mom. 

A strong breeze sent a chill down your legs, making you cringe at the cold night. You closed your journal, placed your ballpoint pen in the center, and decided to pack it up for the night. You stood up off the porch steps, but as you stood, you felt a deep pressure in your pelvis, making you want to pee. 

You turned yourself around to go to the woods, the pooping corner, as Mellissa coined it. You felt the tall grass brush against your calves, crickets and salamanders sing in the twilight of the Canadian mountainside; you felt the crisp, clean air reach your nostrils and travel down your throat. You traveled down the small trail you and all the others made from traffic, but you felt a drop in your chest as you approached the bushes. 

Snap!

You turn your head to your right, through the thick brush of trees toward the abandoned plane, to the sound of something snapping a branch. You see the small figure in the brush coming towards you, her hands holding the tree for whatever reason. Her eyes glued on you, her mouth slightly open, she looks shocked at the snapping branch. 

“Misty! Holy moly!” You yelp as you jump back on instinct. Misty always had a way to catch you off guard. “What the hell are you doing over there?” 

“Uh, Peeing?” 

You laugh out loud as you pant. For whatever reason, you feel your heartbeat in your chest. Misty’s unsettling personality isn’t one to be around at night. It is uncomfortable, but it is bearable if you speak right. You put your hand on your chest as you laugh again to distract from her creepiness and act like you are not uncomfortable in her presence. 

“Oh, of course! Sorry, Misty! Doing the same!”

She steps forward out of the brush and keeps her eyes on you. “I could come with you to keep watch, you know, um,  just to make sure you're safe,” she says.

A stiff breeze hit the back of your legs, but it wasn’t as chilling as the feeling of Misty’s eyes staring into yours. Something simmered under the surface—it was always there, but in this moment, it felt dangerous. You felt a desperate need to let her near you, to be friendly with her, but she didn’t know how to mask the sinister undertone in her words. 

You hated the fact you felt pity. You felt bad. You didn’t want to make Misty feel like a freak like everyone else. You remember how crushed she was when Randy called her a dyke at homecoming years back, and you remember the rumors of her having anal and giving boys footjobs even though everyone knew she didn’t. You know how everyone treats her like an outcast in the wilderness. It wasn’t fair to be permanently outcasted because you were offputting but overly kind, you thought. 

“Yeah, sure. Can you hold my journal?” You say to her as you stand in place, waiting for her to be beside you. “Hey, I have a question to ask you, actually?.” you add as you move to be behind a bush. 

Misty looks into your eyes softly, her hands tightly holding the leather bond book. She smiles tightly and says, “Yeah?” 

“What are those birds out on the water, do you know?” you ask as you unbutton your pants, move to a squat and pee. Your eyes lock onto Misty as you continue, “The one that makes those loud dove noises. I know those aren’t crows because they are like ducks sitting on the water and don’t sound like crows. They are so loud and scary early in the morning.” 

Misty smiles, her eyes perking up with light, her face almost red with excitement as she proclaims, “Those are Common Loons. The black ones with red eyes.” She says with a smile growing on her lips, like she is smiling under the mask she wears, “Fun fact! They use Loon calls as Mourning Dove calls in movies because Loon’s are a lot more crisp sounding.” 

You smile at her softly as you study her face. “That’s crazy... I thought it was some kind of duck or something.” You chuckle as you watch her face. You look to the forest floor for some leaves to wipe with, and Misty continues talking about different birds. You feel a shiver down your spine at how normal Misty is. 

After you were done, you walked with her, took your journal back from Misty, and kept talking about her special interest in birds. She told you she has a pet named Neapolitan, Yellow Canary, back home who always sings for her when she enters her room. As she was talking, you watched closely at her eyes and lips. 

Her eyes are bright and wide, and her lips turn upward as she speaks. But it was as if something inside wasn’t connecting with her eyes. 

There was no sadness or grief at being here and not with Neapolitan. There was just contentment in her face. 

Misty is acting the same way she did before the crash. She seemed fine, happier talking about the loon out on the lake more than her pet in her room. It wasn’t right. It made no sense. It scared you. 

The energy coming off misty just made you want to run away. You don’t understand why Misty is giving you the creeps in the back of the cabin, but you don’t feel well hearing her speak. Hearing her become so content with being here and talking about home like it didn’t tear her apart made you feel sick. You couldn’t understand how she wasn’t sobbing, talking about home or a pet, and just talking to you like this was her best conversation in years. 

Misty was at the porch with you as you started to step up the stairs to the cabin’s front door; she listed, “There is also the brewer sparrow, burrowing owl, bald eagles, American dipper, the brown-headed cowbird-”

“Misty?” 

“Yeah?” She asked with her head whipping back to you, her blonde curls bouncing around her head with the movement. 

“I need to ask you a serious question, and it needs to stay between us, okay?” 

Her eyes widened for a second as she approached you with a deadly serious expression, taking the face you needed her opinion on sincerely. “Anything, what is it?”

You sigh and look away from her at the beautiful starry sky above you. “Do you think we're going to be found? I just—” You sigh as you look at the north star off the side of the Waxing gibbous.

“I don’t know.” Misty immediately answers before thinking about it, but she says, “Maybe the plane had its last location sent to the power tower, and people are searching high and low for you guys.” 

“What do you mean “you guys”? Your family are looking for you like all our families are.” 

“I don’t think they are, " Misty said as if it were a fact. At this moment, her eyes were empty of emotion, and her face looked too relaxed to be natural. 

“Don’t say that.” 

“Well, don’t ask if we’re going to be found as if you've given up hope, (y/n),” Misty says with a serious voice as she steps closer to you, with her face almost in yours, “You are the one everyone is looking up to for what to do out here, you're the one holding all of this together, and you can’t start asking those things now. You’re our only hope of staying alive long enough for search teams to find us, and you're doing amazing. You can’t lose hope now.” 

She spoke to you like she was pushing you on a pedestal, building your confidence with a fierce glare to push you back in place. It was so unsettling. It was just wrong; it felt wrong, like she was toying with you for losing hope, which was so odd. Why do that? 

Just like the day you left the locker room after their last game before the whole plane ride, she hid in the hallway just to stare at you. 

“Okay, " you say to her as you fight the urge to step back, trying not to hurt Misty’s feelings. I’ll try. Sorry. I haven’t given up hope; I have just been getting wary lately.” 

“It’s okay, (y/n), just make sure you don’t tell anyone else what you just told me because that might scare them.” Misty says again with her smile creeping up slowly, predatorily, like a wolf lifting its lip to lick their chops. 

You blink slowly, feeling unnerved by the words but seeing why she was saying them. “I mean, I am just being realistic. I’m not trying to be a stick in the mud.”

“I know that.” Misty quickly animates her face and body, her hands to her chest to prove her innocence, with her eyes looking big up at yours. “We’re friends that understand each other, but the others don’t understand that. They will judge you and never take you seriously again.” 

You look at her momentarily to understand what she is saying and feel the sinister undertone in her words. You know you should play it dumb and safe, though, as you smile at her and say, “Yeah, okay, you're right. Sorry for talking crazy.” 

“No problem, bestie!” Misty beamed with a tight grin. Her eyes looked cold as she tried to make her smile warmly. 

‘21

You had a wonderful last few days. When Misty dropped you off at your house, you quickly wrote the ending for your smutty novel. It was a perfect ending where the two women stay together and have hot sex, the perfect ending for a complicated romance story. It made you so happy to turn in the novel finally to your publisher, which after review, they fucking loved as well. It was sent to the editors, and the book's production will start by the end of next month. You couldn’t help but feel so accomplished that you even took your father out on a nice dinner to celebrate, and you have been on a happy high since. 

Tonight, you have been sent over the editor's notes to fix the holes in the story. You went to get yourself a coffee and dinner and came home to see your cat sitting on your laptop keyboard. 

You then took the next couple hours devoting yourself to critically combing through your story, your handwritten notes beside you, and your reading glasses sitting on the bridge of your nose. The chapters have been read over four times with edits each time to be approved in your eyes to move to the next. You remember when your first published book came out. It was a lesbian Vampire book trilogy about a feminine Noblewoman meeting a street fighting masc, which just so happened to come out at the same time the movie Twilight came out.  The success of the movie made your book blow up in popularity among queer groups, in conservative groups from outrage, and from everyday literature lovers. You remember how stressed you were when you were writing the series and how many demands were placed on you to push out the next book and the next, and then you didn’t hear from your publisher for a year until they demanded a new book. You then wrote a fantasy book romance that had a fairy falling in love with a goblin, another successful series. Now, on your third romance trilogy, you have grown bored of your fantasy creatures and celebrate concepts. Tension grows in your shoulders in your computer chair, and you lean back, taking your glasses off in exhaustion. 

Rubbing your eyes and leaning back in your chair, you naturally pulled back. The wheel glided on the carpet under your resting foot, and your eyes landed on the open closet. 

Your chest grew hot, and your breath became deep. Staring at your closet door, with your hands on your head, you slowly rose from the chair. 

“You don’t need to read them again.“ The voice begs in the back of your head.

In a semi-self-inflected trance, you step into the closet and find a mess of clothes and long-forgotten items: skates from the 1980s, notebooks from NYU, and an old steel safe.

“Stop it. You don’t need to read them again.” It says again.

Your painted fingers type in the code, your mother's birthday, and quickly open the safe. When you open the safe, a wave of smell barrels towards your nose, smelling like old paper, dirt, dust, and small hints of Pine. 

You start at the worn black leather of the bound journal, which has water and sun damage staining on the exterior. The once-white pages have yellowed over the years, and the quality feels like it will fall apart in your hands before too long. 

You gradually breathe as you lean against your closet wall and slide down, looking at the 25-year-old journal. 

“(Y/n), it’s not going to change.” The voice pleads as you turn the page to a random page of the first book you found. 

7/7/96 Today was productive and amazing!  I caught a snapping turtle about 30ish ibs, and we made a yummy soup of it. It's the best thing I've had out here so far because I feel myself salivating about it. I can't wait to have a bowl tomorrow for breakfast. When Travis took a bite of the soup, he got the eyeball of the turtle, and he gagged. Mari said it was good luck and should eat it, but he kept gagging. He is so pathetic!! Natalie caught a beaver today, and we decided to make it jerky. Jackie didn’t want to eat the turtle, so she said to everyone with a straight face, “I want the beaver!” Needless to say, it made us all laugh until we peed! I am feeling happy today and hopeful. I feel better about being here, but it doesn’t make me feel completely at ease at the thought of being okay. I hope they haven’t given up looking for us, and I know everyone’s family wouldn’t stop looking for us.  7/8/96  I caught two fish, one of which was a salmon (score!!) Natalie and I started making a map by walking around the area and building it together. I had a bowl of turtle broth for breakfast and some fish jerky. a lot of progress with my fishing net. I am about ¾ completed, but I need more stable vining. I feel somewhat like I am PMSing, and I am so not ready to be on my period just yet again out here. I wish I had a pad or tampon out here. All we have is homemade ones out of shirts and stuffing made from cattails fluff. I am about to start because I am much more sad than yesterday.  I miss my mom so much I can’t even help but cry when I think of her face

You violently start to sob and cover your face with your hand after reading the tragic line from your old journal. The journal that you and Shauna started there. It’s been 25 years since you wrote that sentence in the journal, but the statement is never more accurate than it is right now. You felt like you were 18 again. You were a child missing their mother and just want to talk to them about it. About everything, but you couldn’t. There was no way for you to talk to your mother again. Nothing has changed from then to where you are now. 

It was physical proof of your broken mind and heart. The words don’t even sound like you anymore. It was so young and naive, hopeful to no end. But when you see lines like that, you break down like a baby. Maybe it was for all the times you didn’t cry when you should have been out there. 

You felt as you looked at the young woman’s words a feeling of grief that just harassed you in place when you so much as looked at a page. It didn’t matter if it was a sad or mundane page. It always made you break down. You don’t understand why you still have urges to read over your old dairy, but you did almost every week for your whole adult life. Maybe it was a reminder of the dead young girl you used to be or just clinging onto the moments in the wilderness that made you feel whole. It made you feel like you knew everything, your purpose, and the meaning of life, but as time marched forward, you didn’t feel any more in place than you did then.

It wasn’t fair. 

You were just a girl. 

You all were just children. 

You may not have died, but a part of your soul did. Some of you just couldn’t escape those pine trees and butterfly weeds. It’s been a whole lifetime away, but you still haunt yourself. 

It hurt because the words were just as true then as they are now. 

You missed your mom. 

You missed yourself. 

Knock! Bang! Knock! Bang! 

You pause in panic and hold the journal to your chest in fright. You don’t understand. Is it real? It’s dead of night outside, and you live in the middle of nowhere. 

Knock! Bang! Knock! Bang! 

“Hello! (Y/n)! Open up, please!” A familiar feminine voice yells from outside your house. It comes from your backdoor. The glass French doors rattled from the knock from the other, making a vibration ring out into the house and your shaking heart. Your anxiety spikes as you slam your journal shut, and you throw it into the safe, shutting the safe door with a sharp click. You race downstairs and go toward the doors with your heart beating violently against your chest. You don’t know why, but you knew you had to open the door for some reason without a fight. 

You rush to your door in a panic, worried it is one of the team members in trouble and immediately needs you, and quickly unlock the back door. You felt foolish and like you were putting yourself in danger by opening the door when it was dark outside, but the knocking wouldn’t let up.

You rip open the door to come face to face with the big blue eyes of your goddaughter. 

“Callie!?”

“Before you say anything, I need to-“

“Oh my god! Are you alright?” You gasp at her and grab her arms, looking over her small teenage body for any wounds or signs of her being harmed. How did she get here? She doesn’t have her license yet. She lives 3 miles away. She is in her bedclothes and has no coat or a bra.

“What? No, I’m fine.” She says to you in a snapping tone, tired from her journey to your home. She came from the wooded separation between the neighborhoods. You stand in shock, your mouth wide open as you stare at Callie. 

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE SO LATE!?” you raged as you grabbed ahold of her arm. You look outside to see if her boyfriend is there in his car. He wasn’t. You pull her into your warm home. “What the hell are you thinking!? It’s 1:20 in the morning!” 

“Jesus Christ, Let me explain, chill!”

“Chill!? Are you serious? Does your mom know you're here?” 

“Like she cares! She thinks I am at Cyanne's house, and I came home, but no one was home.” 

“Callie, of course, she cares about you. She cares a whole shit ton about you.” 

“Sure, she does.” She rolls her eyes softly, looking to the floor to examine her shoes. She is ashamed and defensive and feels foolish for coming here. You can read it all over her face. You take a deep breath. You need to calm down and make her understand.

“Callie, I am freaking out because I love you. Why did you walk to my house in the middle of the night with no coat? Do you know how dangerous that was?” You continued with a stern voice, your hand on her arm again to make her look at you.

She rolls her eyes again, annoyed, “I was okay, alright! I am fine! I was cold, and my feet hurt, that’s it!” 

“You could have run into a dangerous person, you could have gotten lost in the woods-“ 

“I didn’t, OKAY!” 

“Why are you here?” You ask again with her stern tone, your hand holding her tighter to make her look at you.

“My parents are cheating on each other.” She blurted out as she kicked off her shoes. She moves her arm out of your hold to sit on the couch beside your backdoor. You let her push off your hold of her at the words; you feel a sense of guilt come over you again as you lean against the wall. 

Day 2 

The humidity of the July morning breeze made your skin feel sticky as you carried some logs toward the chopping block for the firewood you all would need for the day. You woke up early today, restless as always, and stuff in the neck as you were the day before, and you look down at your tied shoes. Noticing the now caked-on dirt, mud, and leaves that have stained the fabric of your shoes it made you sad to see how dirty they got within only a few months out here.

You lift your head, and to your shock, you stand still in what is in front of you. As you approached the back of the cabin through the woods, you noticed two girls giggling against a tree. You see pale hands holding the tree as they lean into the other girl, their other hand on the other girl's stomach. You almost immediately know it was Taissa and Van making out against a tree. Soft moans from Taissa came out as she arched her back against the tree. You notice Van’s other pale hand down Taissa’s shorts. 

You were in shock as you watched them. You felt dirty for walking in on their intimate moment and pervert for feeling your body tingle at them touching each other. Jealously ran hot in your veins, but embarrassment possessed you stronger. You realize you are watching like a peeping Tom and try to turn away from them.

Snap!

You cringe at the snapping of a branch under your foot. The two girls turn to your snapping branch to find you standing awkwardly behind them with wood logs in your hands. 

“(Y/n)!” “Please, stop-” 

“Guys, it’s, please don’t panic-” You try to calm the two down as they storm towards you. Van’s face was painted red, eyes dressed in worry as Taissa’s face was panicked. 

“(y/n), You can’t tell anyone about this! I’m so sorry you walked in on this, but don’t think that we are lesbians or anything we- we just-” Taissa rambles as she grabs your arm to keep you there. They’re scrambling to find any explanation or excuse to explain the two of them making out against the tree even though there was no way to play down what they did. They still tried, and you just shook your head. 

“Please, it’s okay, I promise-” 

“You can’t tell anyone about this, (y/n)! They can’t find out about us; please don’t.” Taissa panicked again, tears in her eyes. The sight made you pause, and your heart hurt. Seeing how hard they tried to hide their love made you want to cry. 

“Please, (y/n), don’t tell anyone,” Van added with deeply concerned eyes. She kept her hands to her waist, hugging herself, and tried to hide the proof of Taissa on her hands. 

You look at the two with wide eyes as you realize you must calm them down. “I won’t tell anyone about this! I didn’t mean to walk in on you two-’

Taissa completely broke down as you spoke. Her face turned painfully in sadness as she started to cry. Her cheek was red with a lack of breath, and her eyebrows furrowed together tight. She was stressing out and about to have a panic attack. 

You drop your wood logs on the forest floor, approach Taissa, and hug her. She tried to push you off at the first attempt, but at your second, she came into your arms with deep sobs coming from her stomach. 

She wasn’t just crying about you finding out she was gay. 

Your eyes scan towards Van, who bites the cuticle on her finger as she watches anxiously. It seemed to be a death sentence for the two to be found out. You say without hesitation, “I’m not saying a word. You have my word. I would rather die.” 

Van blurts, “(Y/n), it’s okay, but you're not okay with this. We don’t know what to say-” 

“Please, " you say again as you rub Taissa’s back. She is still sobbing quietly in your neck. With tears in your eyes, you say, “I understand. I get it more than you understand.” 

There was a pause in the air after you spoke. Even Taissa calmed her breathing and her cries. 

Van’s eyebrow quirked in confusion, and Taissa, hidden in your neck, seemed to be doing the same. 

You felt brave in this moment with the two completely a mess in their shame and worry. 

“I have known about you two for a while. I didn’t say anything because I was envious of you two. You found each other, and you had each other.” You pause as you try to find the right words. Taissa pulls away to look at you. I never found anyone to be with like you two.” 

“What are you saying?” Van asks, her eyebrow higher on her forehead as she slowly figures out what you are saying. Taissa quietly connects the dots as she listens to you speak. 

You tear up more as you would say it out loud for the first time. You felt emotional. 

“I like girls, Van. I’m gay. I’ve never tried to be with a guy or anything, but I am sure I won’t be getting with anyone who isn’t a woman.” 

They both pause as the moment comes over the three of you. A eureka moment was almost in the air as you looked down at your feet. 

“I’ve known about you two since Randy’s party before leaving for Seattle.” You said as you looked at your feet. “I saw it in the way you two looked at each other. I just knew. I don’t know if anyone who isn’t gay would know, but I knew.” 

You look back up to the two silenced girls and add, feeling yourself vomiting your emotions to the two only people who would understand, “I didn’t say anything because I was happy you two found each other. I was jealous because I didn’t have anyone, but I wouldn’t do that to you. I know how much it would kill me if someone told people before I was ready. I mean, I haven’t even dated a guy before or had sex with one to completely know if I am, but I just never had the urge to be with a guy, so I don’t think I am wrong…”

“(y/n), Why didn’t you tell us?” Taissa asks. She steps closer towards you with a hand holding yours kindly. It touches your heart. 

You choke up as a tear comes to your eye. Van comes towards you, too, with a soft smile. “I don’t know. I didn’t even want to mention it. I don’t want you to think I wanted to do something wrong or that I wanted to break you two up-” 

“Oh, no, no, (y/n), you big dummy.” Van chuckles as she comes to hug you and rubs your back. “We would never think you would do that!”

Taissa agrees instantly. She says, “We didn’t even think you would tell anyone; we were just panicked!” 

‘I know, I get it! So, please believe me when I say the secret is safe with me! I am happy you two are together, and I don’t want to push you before you are ready to say anything. It's none of my business to tell.’ 

“Thank you,” Taissa says again, deeply touched by your words. As you finish speaking, she quickly pulls you into a hug. Van quickly follows suit. She holds a soft smile the whole time. 

You softly cried and said in Taissa’s chest, “You two are the first I’ve ever told. Not even Shauna and Jackie know.” 

It always felt so shameful that you never told your closest friends your true proclivities, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to look them in the eyes and say you liked girls and not guys. Not after years of lying and saying you wanted to fuck random guys you decided you had a crush on, you felt like if you let the truth out to Jackie and Shauna, it would hurt whatever dynamic you had left after your distance because of your mom’s health. You skipped out on so many hangouts, sleepovers, club meetings, and even birthdays with your sandbox best friends, and it has been slowly killing you. They still reached out and acted like nothing changed, but you all know things have shifted to Jackie and Shauna being the best friends, and you are now the tagalong old friend. But since being out in the wilderness, you have been closer to them than ever. Every day the three of you steal away time to talk shit and just be girls for a few hours by the river while you fish. It was slowly feeling like it did back in freshmen year of high school when you three were a true trio, but the growing weight of your mental health and shame for not telling them so many things, being gay being one of them. 

Van rubs a hand on your back as she pushes a hair behind your ear. “I am very happy to be the first to hear it. Thank you for telling me that. I told my big sister, " she confesses. She smiles softly at you, a sadness in her eyes. “She wasn’t super happy about it, but after a while, she acted the same as she always had.”

Taissa nods her head and says with a chuckle, “You are the first I’ve had to tell I was gay without dating them.” 

You chuckle softly back as you pull away from the hug. You say as you look at the two again, “Please, believe me when I say it’s all going to be okay. Just be more careful with people being around.”

After this morning, the day went smoothly. Van went to chop wood, Taissa started cleaning laundry in the lake shortly after your deep confessions, and you went out to fish like always. 

Today was a lucky day in the spring season because you caught a small gray fish and a Salmon. You caught a stray salmon on its way to lay eggs for the season, and it was completely healthy. As you raised the fish from the water, it snapped its tail. 

You returned to camp with your wins, only to find Natalie returning with two more brown rabbits, dragging the small animal back to camp. 

“Hey, pretty lady, what are you doing over there?” she calls as she approaches you on the trail. She seems in good spirits today, walking with a skip in her step, the rifle comfortably hanging from her shoulder. 

“Got a fish, what about you, baby?” You say back with a chuckle at the end, trying to flirt back with her playfully. 

She chuckles with you, a big smile, as she lifts the rabbits in her hand. " I got some dinner.” 

You chuckle again without realizing you feel like a stupid schoolgirl not even listening to Natalie’s words, and you beam to her, “You did well with those traps!” 

Natalie blushes as she chuckles; her hand scratches the back of her neck, and her eyes shy down to the ground. “Yeah, well, you helped me set them up.” 

“It was nothing because you were doing almost all of it.” You giggle offhandedly, and you walk together to the cabin. You then snap your fingers that you remembered a thought you had. “I have an idea to run by you!” 

“What’s up?” 

“I was thinking that maybe we could start making a map of some sort to find a way out because we both go into the woods often.” 

Natalie nodded slowly as she processed what you said, “like how?”

“Like we can draw the cabin as the center and then draw everything around it until we are as far as we can go.” You say with a shrug as you reach the cabin. Girls circle the fire, talking, working on firewood, hanging and sewing clothes on the line. 

Natalie looks at you as you both place the animals on the table in the cabin for Coach Scott to skin for cooking later. “I see. You're saying we piece together everything we know until we get enough coverage to find a way out?” 

“Yeah! I don’t know, but can we figure it out while we go? Like when we are bored, we draw more to the map.” 

“Yeah, okay, I like this plan.” She smiles as she slowly looks over your face. With a cute shrug, she says, “I’m happy I’m doing something. Gives me a reason to steal your time.” 

You giggle a little at the comment, trying not to take it as a clear hint that she wants to be with you. You say, “You always steal some of my time away, baby.” 

“I just want more.” Natalie smiled at you playfully as she slid away from you in the kitchen doorway to the other living space. You felt yourself smile to yourself in a flustered state, huffing out air. “Holy shit.” You mumble as you walk from the table to the back of the cabin. 

‘21

You lean against the wall with your eyes wide. You study Callie’s distraught face and see her lip quivering.

“My mom is cheating on my dad, and my dad is never home because his stupid fucking database needs work on, but it’s all just bullshit!” Callie says with a quiver in her voice, and tears come to her eyes, and she continues to say, “I am so sick of this shit!” 

You stay quiet because you feel like she just wants to yell out her frustrations at you, and you want her to calm down. 

“My mom asks me how I am or my day at school, but she doesn’t care about me! She doesn’t know what music I am, she doesn’t like my clothes, she hates my boyfriend, I can’t do this.” She has fat tears rolling down her face as she rages on. She tries to keep up the front that she is nonchalant and doesn’t care even though it is failing. “She just looks at me with these cold fucking eyes. I can’t stand it anymore. She looks at me and doesn’t see me at all! I am just a roommate to her!”

“Callie, that is not true. Your mother loves you.” 

“No, she doesn’t. She fucking hates me.” 

You stop yourself from yelling at her by closing your eyes and covering your mouth. You had a painful flash of a memory as she says that, of a bloody pile of rags used in the wilderness that old winter night when Shauna was in labor for the first time. You remember her cries that rattled your soul and caused you to have a tear in your eye. You could never bring yourself to speak about the baby before her, and it wasn’t your place to tell Callie something so heartbreaking about her mother. It didn’t stop your heart from breaking. 

“Callie, stop-“

“I know she is fucked up, and she is traumatized, but she doesn’t care how she traumatizes me.” She says with her eyes full of angry tears, and she points to herself with her hands, but her eyes grow wide as she looks at you across from her after that sentence.

You just stood there emotionless against the wall, with your eyes losing color as she paused to reflect on what she said. You sigh deeply. You slide down a wall for the second time tonight as you softly raise your eyebrow at her and look away for a second. You take out the pack of cigarettes in your sweatpants pocket, and you put one in your mouth.

“I’m going to let you in on a little something,” you pause to light your cigarette, “something about the woods.” 

You see her eyes keep wide and watery as she hugs her arms around her belly. She is focused on what you are saying but says nothing, scared of what will happen.

“Your mom, Jackie, and I have been best friends since kindergarten. We met playing house at recess and were always at each other's hips.” You say as you take a puff of your stick, looking at Callie with soft eyes, “I knew how your mother was when we were young. She was stubborn and guarded with her emotions; sometimes, Jackie and I couldn’t figure out what she was thinking. She hid some things from us but always told us eventually.” 

You stand up and sit next to Callie on your couch. You stare at the floor in front of you. Not her as you continue, you want to vomit, “But when we got out there, uh, the things that happened,” you pause yourself as you feel your lip quiver, “You have heard what people say about us, how they whisper what we did and what we did to each other to survive, is not as bad as it did go, honey.” You say with honesty dripping in your haunted tone, and you are in a faze staring at the burls in your hardwood floors. You know what you said was too dark and too vague not to continue as she sits beside you with bated breath. “People passed away out there because the winters were so cold that death felt like going to sleep. People passed away because they were trying to hunt, and wolves found them.” You stopped yourself again as you felt a tear fall from your eye. You weren’t even in your own body as you kept talking. It is somewhat the truth, mostly a lie, but still, the same reality you lived. You didn’t need to tell her the truth just yet. 

You didn’t even look at the girl in the corner of your eye. Callie stared in awe as you spoke about the unspeakable—the crash and surviving the wilderness. Tears formed in Callie’s eyes as she looked at her godmother. She was emotionally and mentally affected by what had happened just from speaking vaguely about it, thinking about you as a teenager going through all that, and thinking about her mother as a teenager in that situation, too.

“I need you to know what happened out there changed your mother. It kept her alive. It’s why she is here today, baby.” You say as you slowly turn to look at Callie. You push your goddaughter's hair behind her ear as your face stays still, tears running down her young, flustered cheeks. “When we lost Jackie, me and your mom were never the same. Something died within us. And every time you come face to face with the death of a friend like that, it kills something inside of you. It’s hard having kids of your own when you have known so many dead children at one time…”

You put your cigarette out as it reached the filter of the stick, and you flicked the rest into the small ashtray on the corner table.  “Callie, you are the age we were when all that happened. I know that in some small part when she looks at you, she sees what she could have been if it hadn’t been for the crash. And maybe it’s why she isn’t close to you right now or why she isn’t up your ass wondering what you're doing. Because she wants you to have a good time and do the stupid teenager stuff. She will never tell you that, though.” You say with a smile to Callie and a nudge to her side. You look at the calmed-down girl who looked deep in thought with her hands on her knees, 

You add to her ear with a warm tone to your voice again, your hand on her shoulder. “She loves you. Period. She worries sick about you, and she couldn’t put you down when you were born because she worried you would go away if she let you go, Callie. But she couldn’t be a mother like she could have been if your mom had never been out there in those woods, even if that doesn’t make that easier for you or make it fair… it was some really dark times out there for your mother, and that’s why she is not as emotionally open like other mothers. I’m sorry, Callie, but please don’t think your mother loves you.”

“Okay.” 

“And with that being said, what is happening with your mom and dad is between them. Stay out of it. I don’t know what is happening, but you have no part. They love you, no question, even if they are cheating. I understand it is affecting you and making you uncomfortable, but you can’t get involved with your parents. Okay.” You add that as you nudge her with your shoulder with a big smile. She softly smiles back with a shake of her head. 

“Fine.” She sighs, defected. 

You stand before your stove as you fry eggs in a pan. You yawn as you sip on your coffee. Your eyes still have a sleep crust in the corners of your eyes. You woke early to make breakfast for the sleeping Callie on your old sofa. Last night, after your long talk with Callie, you led her to your comfy sofa with the TV controller. You have her a pillow and a throw blanket to sleep on as you sit in your dad's old recliner. You let Callie put the TV on CartoonNetwork on some show she liked as a kid. You didn’t care much for its colorful characters or their loud laughing, but you leaned back as you heard Callie softly snore beside you in the living room. You leaned on your fist as you napped until the morning birds chirped outside your window. 

You made a big breakfast for the two of you, including eggs, bacon, toast, and a fruit salad bowl. When you hear the teenager walking down the hallway connecting to the kitchen, she slumps into a counter chair. She looks comfortable and relaxed at your house, as you always do when you watch her. 

“Good morning, Callie. How did you sleep?” You asked as you poured yourself another cup of coffee.

She yawns with her arms wide stretching, and she says in a deep yawn, “Good! I’m starving!” 

You chuckle as you place the fruit bowl before her and fry her eggs, “Eat up. You came at the right time. I needed to get rid of some food.” 

Callie chuckled as she threw a blackberry into her mouth. She says, “See, your favorite goddaughter coming over wasn’t such a bad thing.” 

“No, but sneaking out of your house at midnight and crossing town to my house isn’t so cool.” As you look at the side of your face to her, you want her to know you’re not over the danger she put herself in to talk to. “You couldn’t have called me to pick you up.” 

“You would have said no.” 

“I might have, but you would have been safe.” 

Callie sighed and took another berry in her mouth, slumping back in the chair almost defectively. You sigh in return as you plate the buttery egg for the child, “Listen, I love you. I care about your safety and feelings, okay? I would have come to your house and taken you out for ice cream or something. I wasn’t doing much then anyways, just picking out an outfit.” 

Callie looks at you with big, soft eyes as you push the plate toward her. She just keeps her head down as you speak. Callie picks up a fork and eats the hot eggs and bacon. She mumbles as she eats, “Thank you for talking to me last night. About what happened.” 

You move beside her, slumping into the chair. " Any time, I’ll always be there for you.” 

“Why were you picking out an outfit at 1 in the morning?” Callie chuckled as she spoke, completely taken from your comment earlier. 

You chuckle and say, “I’m promoting my book at a convention soon, so I was trying to find something cute.” 

“Can I help you?” She asks you with big eyes, pleading for a yes, and shoves the hot egg into her mouth. 

You chuckle and nod, “Finish your breakfast, and we can look around.”

Day 3

You and Natalie decided to start the map idea today. You went west towards the plane. There were enough animals that you both felt comfortable not fishing for the day, so you could devote more time to mapping the area. Today was the hottest day this week, and just walking to the front door from getting dressed made you sweat like a pig. 

“Alright, I’m going to head north, and you go to the plane, try to find out what's beyond that big ass tree.” Natalie says to you casually as she readjusts the rifle strap on her shoulder. She looks over you softly. 

You nod as you hold onto the strap of your purse, which you emptied to use as your forage bag—it just so happens to hold your remaining cigarettes. “Okay, I’ll try to get back at sundown, but I might take some rest.” 

“Please do. Try to get under some shade and stay out of the sun.”

“I’ll try. You better try, too. You're so pale you’ll get sunburnt just standing right here.” 

Natalie chuckled and shook her head, turning herself around to walk in her direction for her hunting, “Sundown!” 

You smile and turn away towards the trail, “Sundown!” 

You then march forward in the familiar trail down the forest. The way to the plane crash was like the back of your hand at this point. The once long and narrow path has become comfortable to travel through from Natalie and Travis. 

The heat surrounded your skin, creating a sticky film that dripped down every curve of your plush body. You felt a sweat drop from your back and collect on your bra’s clasp. The heat was getting to you, but you kept yourself under the shade of the tall trees. You would have already been resting if you were directly under the sun. 

 A pale-barked tree with lime leaves had dark branch scars on its flesh, standing at a curve in the trail, looking like almond eyes staring down at you in random directions. It was natural for birch trees to have lower branches to break off so that the plant could focus on the top branches that face the sun, but the scars of the branches falling age into the almost furrowed fiber. It was unreal but completely natural. As it was unnerving, it was beautiful. You stop yourself in awe at the simple, complex, tall plant; it is skinny but tall enough to be at least 50 years old and 60 feet tall and stare up in wonder at the peaks of sunlight through the cotyledon. As you gently let your eyes glance down, the slight curve of its shape as it comes to its base. 

The symbol stares at you. You softly raise your eyebrow as you stare down at the carving. It had to be new because it was at eye level with you, but it was faded enough not to be made by one of your teammates. Was it the mummy in the attic that made this? Or was it someone else? You were always so confused as you looked at the odd shape in the bark that your finger ran across the image out of a sudden urge. Your finger glides against the triangle, the short arms of the descending sides, the long diagonal line that crosses the entire shape, a crowned circle to the point on the top, and then a crooked hook at the base. You sighed to yourself as you moved away from the birch tree to continue on the trail. Your finger tingled with the friction.

You passed the old plane with a stiff, steady foot away from the eerie sight. Since the crash, you had wanted nothing to do with planes. The thought alone of being suspended in the air made your heart squeeze in your chest, and your stomach turn. You didn’t look at the white exterior as you rushed past the beast. 

When you get past the wide thick dark brown oak tree, aka big ass tree, that had moss dominating the left side, at least 150 years old, you walk forward on the tall grass. You look down at the ground and try to find anything worth taking back as you walk forward, making the map a wonderful excuse to forage. 

The summer has been a little dry in the last few weeks, with insufficient rain. The grass is turning brown in places as you move forward. The ground was barren of any nuts or mushrooms. You glace up, and you pause. 

In front of you was the old, wide, thick tree again, and the plane was just behind you again. You looked behind yourself to be sure of it. 

The plane was behind you again like you hadn’t walked at least five feet away from it. 

A breeze brushed against your side, moving the baby hairs on your cheek as you studied the tree in front of you in confusion. 

The timber has deep lines embedded in the tree's grain, and the moss grew on every pendant's surface. The swirls of the fiber were enchanting to look at and find where the line goes, but you pull yourself back from the beauty of the wood. You pull your crop top up to your face and wipe the multiple drops of sweat trailing down your nose and cheeks. 

 You march forward with some determination, trying to solve this problem. It made no sense. 

You walk past the mossy oak tree again and go towards the crowd of trees in front of you that goes on and on. Your eyebrow quirks stay on your forehead as you continue on your journey. 

And you walk forward towards the detritus as expected. The crunch of dead leaves and branched cry under your feet as you walk faster forward. Your eyes softened as you glanced around the environment, and you felt the uneasiness of whatever happened to melt from your shoulders. You reason that you must have turned yourself around when looking down at the mushrooms. You feel your mind wander as you march forward. You look up absentmindedly to look at the leaves above your head for some kind of entertainment. 

Your eyes level back to their natural direction, and when you do, they widen in terror. 

The cabin was before you, and Natalie was next to you. She looked at you nonchalantly and said, “Please do. Try to get under some shade and stay out of the sun.”

You freeze in place as you stare at the bleach blonde with a cold sweat coming over you. You felt the sweat collected from the hike you just had, and it felt like you spilled in time back to your conversation over 45 minutes ago. 

“Hey, are you alright?” Natalie asked concernedly, her hand touching your upper arm to reassure you. She noticed how much you were sweating and was completely confused. How could you be so sweaty from walking from the cabin to the fire pit?? 

You just stare into her eyes, feeling scared, “Wha-what?” 

“I said to stay out of the sun. Are you alright? Are you sure you're up for it today? It’s really hot.” Natalie says as she looks you over. She notices the pale complexion on your face and how your hands softly shake. “We haven’t looked past the tree, but you shouldn’t be scared.”

It was like you didn’t walk away. It felt wrong. This was wrong.

“I know, sorry! I’m getting a little lightheaded because my period is coming.” You lie, trying to find any excuse for acting so strange to her. 

She raised an eyebrow and questioned what was happening to the girl beside her, and she said, “Okay… Just take some water with you. Take as many breaks as you need.” 

“I will.” You say and nod. You must have imagined walking past the plane if you hadn’t left this conversation like nothing happened. You take the plastic red water bottle Natalie handed you with a soft smile and worried eyes.

“(Y/n), if you get tired, just head home. We can always come back to it; don’t overwork yourself.” 

“I’ll try not to. I will come back as soon as possible, I promise.”

“Okay, try to get back at sunset, " she says as she softly steps back and starts to head in her direction to hunt. Her gun hits the back of her thigh as she stares you down. Please don’t overdo It.”

“Okay, be careful,” you mutter back to her as you watch her walk off in her direction as she did in the morning. You remember everything, and it’s happening again. 

You shook your head to yourself as you turned yourself around, “I’m fucking crazy.” You thought as you walked the trail again, but you knew for certain you had traveled, and there was no question in the ache of your feet. 

You get to the carved birch tree once again with its dark eyes. You don’t give it or the plane so much of a glance as you continue to the mossy oak. 

You felt focused on your mission to understand how you got turned around so badly when you got back home, ignoring the fact you walked into a conversation you already had. You let your hand touch the moss on the left side of the oak as a marker in your memory if it was truly tricking you.

 As the hour passes, you rush to see beyond the oak tree and familiar trees. You just needed a landmark to find it to draw, and you would head back. It didn’t need to be so confusing. You walk past the oak tree to the sea of timber to find a boring environment again, no trail to have your eyes look down to or rocks to stumble on, as you see the sparkles of light and birds resting in branches above. Your focus again relaxed even with your sharp mind, and your eyes glance down to your shoes again. 

Your eyes look at your laces as you walk forward in routine. You took a deep breath as you tried to calm the nerves building in your body, and as you looked up, it felt like it shot whatever efforts you made to soothe yourself. You still your movements to the feeling of your heart dropping to your stomach.  

Again, the pale-barked tree with lime leaves stares back at you on the curve of the trail. You didn’t understand. It doesn’t make sense. 

You walked straight past the oak tree, glancing behind the birch tree to peek at the fat tree standing in the background of the plane. Then, you closed your eyes slowly. 

Your lower lip quivers as your eyebrows furrow, and your teeth catch your salty lip. You swallow the spit collecting in your cheeks, holding a cry in your throat—a big drop of sweat rolls down your neck from the back of your head. 

Why are you so emotional right now? 

Why does it feel pointless? All of it. The trail, the map, the fucking point of trying to find a way out. It felt like everything was up against you, and you know rationally that it was mostly true.

You weren’t going to help anything. You are not fit enough to go more than a mile before you get tired, and you can’t help but get lost. 

It’s a trail in the ground. How could you get turned around in circles? 

Halting in your tracks, you covered your tear-covered eyes as watery tears ran down your cheeks, mixing with your sweat. 

You don’t know what to do. 

“Dad would know what to do. He knew what to do for everything out here.” You thought as your lip curls in a deep frown, pushing down a sob to the bottom of your stomach. 

You wanted to hit yourself on the side of your head, and you wanted to scream into the bright green leaves that looked down at you with indifference. 

You didn’t listen to your dad about everything. You wanted to hit yourself for every time you didn’t listen, and you didn’t care about what he was saying, didn’t absorb everything he gave you so lovingly. You wanted to crawl into his arms and be rocked like you were as a child. You wanted to feel the safety of his strong chest and arms around you. You are never going to feel it again. 

The river ran down your cheeks as your feet started to march forward. 

You felt stupid. Ashamed somehow. And overwhelmingly devastated.

 It was fucking hotter than hell outside. 

You slap your hand that covers your eyes to your side. You look down at your shoes, walking through the dry grass and dirt. You say to yourself, as you hiccup a cry, “This sucks.” 

As you expected, you look to find the brown curvy tree again. You stop again as you wipe away the sweat from your brow and the wetness collecting at your upper lip. A breeze gracefully brushes against your back. 

You sigh as you focus on yourself again. You wipe your face again with your black crop top and wipe your clammy hands on your thighs. You walked on. It felt like you were walking into a wall and expecting something different. 

As you walk forward, you look at the oak tree, which is mossy and dominates the right side of the plant. This made you pause again this morning. As you stared at the tree, you wanted to pull your hair from the roots. 

Wasn’t the moss on the left side? 

You couldn’t be mistaken. You knew this tree. It’s the tree you slept under when the aftermath cuddled beside Jackie and Shauna. It was the tree you collected kindling for your first fire out here. The moss was on the left. 

You fucking touched it, for god sake. You are not crazy. 

Why is it now on the right? 

You put your hand on the mossy side as you walked past it not even 15 minutes ago. You don’t know how you could have been turned around from looking down at your feet. It was in the direction you left from; it was on the left, not the right. 

You threw your hands up in defeat, and a dry laugh came from your throat, tears streaming down again. You were too hot to think straight, but you felt an itch in your skin. You were so confused.

You walk towards the right side, lift your leg over a thorny bush, and start walking forward.

It wasn’t like it was before. It was a rocky and uneven terrain that made your aching feet uncomfortable. The crowd of trees was as it always was. You hiccuped at the end of your cries. 

You stumble on a sharp rock, fall forward, and catch yourself with your knees and elbows on the grass. 

You hiss a moan of pain, and you sit up on your knees. You wipe dirt and blades of grass from your elbows. You look back up to the dark branch scars of the single birch tree at the curve in the trail. 

You didn’t cry this time as you stood up. You sniffled and looked on with fear. You are losing it. Maybe you're having heatstroke? 

The birch tree with lime leaves and eyes staring down at you with almost a mocking laugh. You felt a scowl grow on your lip as you walked forward stubbornly. You just fucking can’t understand. 

You think for a moment and can’t remember this strange birch tree. You don’t remember when you and Taissa found the lake, and you don’t even remember a curve in the trail. You thought birch trees grow in their groves and asexually sprout saplings around themselves. Sure, the seeds could have been eaten and taken to this specific spot, but not a single seedling for an adult healthy tree made no sense. 

Nothing fucking made sense.

You find yourself in front of the oak tree again, almost dizzy from the turning around you have done today. The sun's heat beats on the crown of your head, and you feel a boiling sensation. You stare down at the bark of the oak, seeing the moss collect on the left side as it always has. 

It was like the trees were messing with you and laughing. The leaves stare down at you with a snicker on their lips. 

“Fuck it.” You spat out in frustration. You didn’t stop your leg kicking out to the tree, kicking the moss. The growth softly lands on the sole of your shoe and the tow box of your beaten shoes. You give up. “I don’t get it.” You say to yourself as a breeze comes over your burning face. 

You turn around and see the curve of the birch tree move. You pause again as you look on, glaring at the change. You are paranoid.

The tree’s bark and scars moved in front of your eyes, and the curve on the side of the wood slinked into what seemed like a feminine hip. 

You feel like you weren’t in your body as you wanted the tree morph in front of you. It completely moved two smaller scars to the center eye level to you, and it seemed to slowly open one of the scars like someone waking up from a deep sleep.

(Y/e/c) flashes in the new pocket as you feel your body launch back to the trail, running back to the cabin. You felt a scream rip out of your lip as you ran past the tree with a chill tickling your spine. 

And you ran.

You look behind yourself to see a sapling next to the birch tree. It looked like a woman with her arms above her head, and what could have been hair stood up tall, her fingers connecting with her hair with leaves and seeds dancing. The body curves and leans to the side as if it looks at you running away with a studying eye. 

You don’t look back after that. You stumble and panic your way through the sunsetting light. You felt unaware tears spilling as you tried to stay straight on the trail. 

The sun was set when you reached the cabin, and the stars shone brightly above you. Time must have escaped you like your sanity. You puff out the pants of breath you had, and you can’t help yourself from feeling exhausted. 

Natalie and Shauna sat at the porch steps waiting for you, the spring from their spot as they heard your footsteps.

“Oh my god, (y/n)!” “Dude! I said sunset! We were about to go out to look for you!”

You pant as you come to the two girls. They grab your sweaty form, and you look down to the ground as a sharp breath travels down your throat. You wanted to vomit how much you were exerting yourself. You knew you couldn’t tell the truth; they didn’t need to know how bad you were getting.

“I’m so sorry! I fell asleep and woke up, and I rushed back! Am alright, just fucking ran like hell.” 

Shauna chuckles and punches your arm harshly, “You could have been hurt! Of course, you were just napping!” 

Natalie shook her head softly at the confession and chuckled, but her eyes remained stern. " You can’t be trusted alone anymore. I have to babysit you because you need your baby naps.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You huffed in your still panting breath. You point your middle finger at Natalie as the two laugh, pulling you towards the cabin. Something bothers your foot inside your shoe, making you want to kick it off.

You follow them without a fight, and a growl in your stomach loudly grumbles as you enter the cabin. Most of the others were in their sleeping bags and makeshift beds on the ground of the living space, some in the kitchen. 

Misty sits up from her spot and whispers, “Is (y/n) back?” 

“Yeah, she's here. All's good.” Shauna says to Misty as she walks past you to the kitchen. “I’m getting your dinner.” 

“Me too.” Natalie says as she follows behind Shauna with a concerned face. 

Misty sits down with a big smile and says, “I’m happy you're back, (y/n).” 

“Thank you.” You say to her without smiling, moving yourself to your bags. 

You wanted to peel the sticky fabric off your body, completely change every piece of clothing you had, and take another bath. 

“Is she back?” You heard Coach Scott ask the girls in the other room with sleep in his voice. There was a conversation you would hear, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to listen to. You wanted to lay down on your pillow.

It seemed well past 10 while everyone took a rest. You couldn’t wrap your head around how what felt like a 3-hour journey into an 11-hour one. You didn’t have the energy to care much, though. As you pulled your shoe from your foot, a pile of moss stumbled out from the inside, littering your sock with small moss fur.

You throw your shoe to the side, rip your sock off, and moss is even between your toes.

You stood up, disgusted and anxious. You pulled your crop top off, wanting to shred every piece of the day away. Then, you pulled a long pink shirt from your jean shorts, and lime-colored leaves fell inside your clothes. 

The birch tree leaves.

You look down at the floor beside your feet at the pile of leaves and moss all around you as if you rolled around in the earth. You looked at your hands to find dirt under your nails as if you were digging for roots. 

“(Y/n)?” 

You turn your head sharply at Jackie. She lays beside your makeshift bed and looks up at you with big eyes. “Are you okay, (y/n)? You seem spazzed out.” 

You shook your head and said, “I think I started my period, and I am covered in dirt.” 

She chuckled and said, “That sucks, okay! I freak out every time I bleed out here.”

You nodded your head with a chuckle, lost in your own head, “Yeah, now I have to clean-“ 

When you look down at the ground, you see only a birch leaf and moss fur. 

“I have to clean myself.” You finish your sentence, and you rub your eyes. “I think the heat is getting to me, too.”

“It’s okay! Lay under the window.” Jackie smiles as if she solved the problem and closes her eyes. 

You were going fucking crazy.

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[weaselle]

100% !

you have lots of little guys in and on you that are doing you favors right now. Favors like preventing skin conditions and blemishes, favors like keeping you from getting infections.

If you nuke them off your biome it will cause you problems. Your hands do this crazy extra tough skin callous growth trick, and can handle a lot more chemical warfare (but even they have their limits, ask nurses and dishwashers about their hands some time) but the rest of your youness contains a lot of microbial civilians doing their favor jobs in their fragile home environment, and don't need a tidal wave of acidic poison to obliterate them into nothingness.

honestly, unless you've got something on you like paint or sewage or motor oil or something, you shouldn't really need anything other than your hand or a clean cloth and some clean warm water. Most of what soap does is strip the oils off your skin and that alone can cause you problems.

Like soap is good and important and you should especially be washing your hands with soap for good social hygiene, but for mooost of your body, the paradigm has been no soap at all for the last billion years or so, and that continues to be a pretty good option for us. Your body builds itself in the womb following a blueprint that assumes there is no such thing as soap.

There are microbes that have evolved to live only on human skin and we one thousand percent want them there. Clean water (and maybe letting mud dry on us and then peeling it off sometimes) has been the totally great thing we've always used to be clean.

And the water and friction do a great job! Washing your hands with water alone kills almost 80% of bacteria on your hands in studies by the National Institute of Health. Soap merely brings that number to about 92%. So you're still getting rid of most of the baddies you want gone, the microbial civvies on their home turf in your biome will survive and multiply which you want, and the water will get rid of the organic byproducts that make you stinky bad, so that you can stinky good

Again, sanitizers and soaps are important to use on our hands that touch everything we share, most of what is in the world around us, and also our mouths, eyes, and most intimate places, and hands are good at surviving soaps and sanitizers (within reason). And if you want to use soap on your skin everywhere and that's working for you fine, though if you want to smell good, may i recommend getting clean scrubbing with simple water and then using a small misting of some kind of perfume, instead of stripping your skin of the oils your skin needs by lathering soap all over you in the name of smelling better. But soap away if that's your thing.

But please, please use antibacterial soaps and other sterilizing materials as the chemical weapons they are, targeted and purposeful, instead of simply smearing them all over our body every day for no good reason

Because not only all that, but your shower drains into the sewer, and the more antibacterial/antibiotic treatments we wash down into the sewers (which we pee out when we get prescribed antibiotics too, btw) the more certain horrifying illness-causing bacteria evolve to become immune to all antibiotics and sanitizers. It's already quite a serious issue. For example, Bacteria that are resistant to colistin, a last-resort antibiotic we use when nothing else works, has for the first time been detected in Los Angeles County wastewater.

so lets all just calm down a little, with the dousing ourselves in poisonous sterilizing chem baths and taking antibiotics for every little thing. You know all those "pro-biotic" drinks and yogurts and things that are popular now? well those micro-biotics that are so pro for you, they live all throughout your personal biome, not just in your gut. For every one human cell in your body there are approximately 10 microbes. Most of which are doing you favors. Be nice to them.

Antibacterial soap??? For your body???

[lycheeloving]

Little fic about Bruce Wayne x a socially anxious reader! Bc I have social anxiety and wanted a relatable reader <3 Well. Partially relatable. I had to make them braver than me, to actually talk to Bruce in the first place lol

This is the first chapter of 3.

You're freaking out. Great.

Why did you come to this party again? Just because you happened to be one of the lucky random citizens to get invited? Because you didn't want to seem ungrateful? Because you were hoping that just once, you could manage to actually talk to others and have fun?

Yeah, well, that didn't work out. You're standing outside on a balcony, doing breathing exercises.

Actually, are you even allowed to be out here?

Fuck. You startle yourself out of your calm breathing and start sweating despite the cold.

You saw other people out here before you came here, so it should be fine! Unless only specific people are allowed here, or people are only allowed here at specific times?

You turn around to look at the door, but don't find any "do not enter" signs there.

Don't trust your anxiety thoughts! You're allowed to be here! Unfortunately that doesn't make you feel any better.

You turn to look at the skyline of Gotham again, hoping that that will calm you down.

How long have you been here, would it be weird to leave already? But you'd have to walk through the crowded room to get to an exit... Is there a backdoor maybe?

Just as you start googling the layout of the place you're in, you hear somebody else walk onto the balcony. Dammit. You hope they're just here to smoke and that they'll ignore you.

You stare at your phone. No results, the layout isn't available online. Makes sense, that would probably be a major security risk. Still sucks for you.

Maybe you should try those breathing exercises again. How did they go again? In for 4 seconds, hold for 3, out for 9, right? No, wait, it's in for 6, hold for-

"Are you ok?"

That was probably directed at you, but you're not in the mood for conversation. Especially a conversation about how you're feeling. Yikes. Maybe they'll take the hint if you just ignore them.

You look at your phone again, looking up how you're supposed to breathe when you're anxious.

You should honestly just leave. Do the busses run this late? If you have to call a taxi you might actually pass out.

Or if the stranger doesn't leave. Unfortunately they're allowed to be here. Probably. Unless nobody is allowed to be here and oh fuck, are they here to throw you out? No, probably not, calm down. Either way, nothing you can do. Just breathe.

"Not a big fan of parties, are you? Don't worry, me neither." The guy leans onto the railing right next to you, but you don't look at him.

Can't he just leave you alone? Fuck. Whatever. Your anxiety is already bad, how much worse could it get by talking to some rando?

Besides, you came here to try and fight against your anxiety, you should at least have one conversation.

"Uh, no. I'm not a party person. At all."

That's all he asked you, right? You hope you didn't forget half of his question.

"So why are you here?" Why does this guy have so many questions? What does he care?? Ok, calm down. One conversation, then you'll leave.

"I was one of the lucky random people to get invited. And I thought, well, maybe it wouldn't suck? And that it would be a good opportunity to—" To do something that helps you work on your social anxiety. Maybe don't tell that to a total stranger? You trail off.

"—to... Um. I don't even know. I thought maybe I would have fun? Maybe?" You try to smile, but it ends up being more of a weird grimace, directed at the floor. Off to a good start!

"Not to be rude, but you don't look like you're having fun." Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.

"Maybe you should have brought a plus-one then, huh? Then at least you wouldn't be alone out here. Unless you did bring one and they abandoned you, of course... I hope that's not the case. Would be typical of me, bringing up a sore topic..." He did! But not in the way he thinks.

"Can't bring a plus-one when you don't have any friends!" Your tone sounds a bit more annoyed than you want it to.

"Oh. Well. Um. See? This conversation has been so short and I've already said something stupid. This is why I escaped onto this balcony, actually." He stops talking to take a deep breath. "Well, one of the reasons."

At least he doesn't seem super socially adept either. That makes you feel a bit better.

"It's fine. Whatever." You scratch at some dirt that's stuck to the railing. "Just, um, if you were trying to get away from the conversations, why are you talking to me?"

"Well, you looked like you weren't having a good time, so I tried to distract you, even if I'm not sure that really worked out." He shifts next to you, taking a break from talking as if unsure what to say next.

"And I have to admit, I might have followed you out here. Ok, I did follow you out here. Because I saw you, and thought you looked interesting. And beautiful. So I wanted to get to know you."

What?? He must be joking. You stick out like a sore thumb in your cheap clothing, and you've been acting awkward ever since you got here.

You finally look up at the weirdo who was apparently actively seeking you out, seeing his face for the first time. Your eyes widen.

That's Bruce Wayne. The guy who's throwing this party. Are there hidden cameras anywhere? You really should have left the party as soon as you started panicking more than normal, then this wouldn't have happened.

Why didn't you recognize his voice? You knew you should have watched that stupid puppy interview the internet has been raving about, then you would've known what he sounds like! How come you've never heard him speak before! Stupid elusive billionaire that only appears on video once in a blue moon...

"I'm Bruce, by the way." He smiles at you with his stupid, pretty, charming smile. Ugh.

"Yeah. Uh. I figured." At least you recognize his face. That would have been even more embarrassing...

"So... What's your name?" He's still smiling at you. Fucker. You reluctantly give him your first name.

"Wanna get out of here?" Your eyes widen and you take a step back. Woah. Is he propositioning you? You feel a bit flattered, but also, absolutely not. No way. You can't even really talk to him without panicking, how are you supposed to—

"I didn't mean—" He grimaces. "Not like that! I just meant, let's get some food, talk, something like that. I didn't mean to come onto you like that! Sorry. Too much, too fast. We could also just stay here and I'll get some food from inside? Super casually, no strings attached, just friendly conversation. So we can get to know each other a bit, because like I said, I think you're interesting. The most interesting person at this party by far. What do you say?"

Fuck. Sure. Whatever. You are kind of hungry and didn't want to touch any of the food here with all of these people staring at you, even though it looked very tasty... And Bruce seems nice enough! And, again, anxiety training. Yes, you're scared, but just this once, live a little!! Don't run away! Even if that's what your body is screaming at you to do.

"Um. Uh. S- Sure?"

After asking what kind of food you like, to which you just answered "Oh, um, whatever.", Bruce started squirreling away one of every food that's at the party to your little balcony. You won't touch some of it, because you are a bit of a picky eater, but you're not telling him that. Maybe you should have. Oh well.

Bruce even pulled the curtains indoors shut, so nobody will wander out onto this specific balcony. Cool! One less thing to worry about.

Then you start talking. He asks about what you do for work, your hobbies, what you're interested in... Just anything that he can think of.

At first you're reluctant to open up, but then you realize: You'll never see him again.

You can treat him like a therapist! Except of course that you never really told your therapists about anything, because you had more appointments scheduled with them, meaning you couldn't just avoid them after. No thanks!

But where would you ever see him again besides on TV, or maybe a paparazzi picture of him and a model in a shitty magazine? You never go to rich people places! Except for right now, but it's not like you'll be invited to the next party, and even if you are, you don't have to show up!

And if he tries to ask for your number or anything, you can just say no. Easy. (But also, what are the odds he'd even do that? What reason could he have to want to talk to you again? He's just trying to avoid the party.)

Talking to Bruce Wayne is basically like venting to faceless strangers online.

This is fine. This is good, actually.

Anxiety training with no consequences. Fine. You can do this.

You probably open up a bit too much, in between bites of delicious food, if you're honest. Whatever. That's for future-you to regret.

You tell him about your job at the bookstore, how you would have asked one of your coworkers to come with you tonight even though you're not close to any of them, but didn't know how to bring it up and also remembered that you lied and told them you have friends, and didn't want them to question you about why none of your friends can come with you instead.

About how you don't really have any hobbies besides sitting at home and maybe watching a show or a movie, or scrolling on your phone.

About how you only came today because you knew you had to try to do something against your anxiety disorder or at some point it would get so bad that you'd never leave the house again. And now you're even having a conversation!! A conversation that includes personal information about you!!

He tells you about himself as well, but you're so nervous that you don't really remember anything for longer than a minute. At least you remember long enough to keep up the conversation, even if you're probably acting awkward. Sorry, Bruce!

But you do also talk about other stuff, nothing personal about either of you, your opinions on this and that, and actually get along pretty well.

At some point the bat signal appears in the sky and you say that you're never sure if it's comforting to see, because it means that Batman is out there to protect people, or that it's scary, because it means that there's a reason that Batman is out there, meaning you could get hurt.

Bruce nods absentmindedly, then checks his phone and says that he has some business to take care off, but that he had a wonderful evening with you, really. You wave at him as he rushes away.

You can't say you're sad that the evening ended this way, as you spent more time with him you started worrying that he really was going to ask for your number or to see you again... This way, he didn't even get to ask your last name! No need to worry about having embarrassed yourself in front of someone you'll see again, just about the fact that he could tell the press about you, but he literally has no reason to do that, right? He wouldn't do that, shut up anxiety.

You leave the balcony a bit more confident in yourself than when you entered it.

Maybe next time you'll try this with someone you might even see again! But, baby steps. This was really good for a first step, though.

You mentally pat yourself on the shoulder as you make your way through the now thinned-out crowd towards the exit. This evening was a success!

Now as a reward you'll spend the rest of your night on your couch, scrolling social media while half-heartedly watching TV.

[samovar225]

Happy Birthday Pizza Tower!

I love this game, and especially the people I've interacted with at least a little bit during my time in this community.

and since such congratulations are the only way to at least "communicate" a little with my favorite artists, ftiends then why not..

@saltplane when i first saw your art on pinterest i was very inspired, i remember that art helped me draw Pizzahead for the first time😭😭plus, you are one of those people thanks to whom I stopped being ashamed of my favorite ship, and post mly first post about it, I didn't think you'd notice it, but when it finally happened I was overjoyed

@tinybubble330 I really like your OCs and headcanons, which surprisingly almost always match mine, I adore your drawing style and I remember how happy I was when you first reblogged my post... to be honest, I'm ashamed to say this, but I squealed like a little girl.

@bigboybird words can't describe how much you helped me one day, and I'm damn grateful to you for everything you've done for me and the whole community, thank you so much for everything!you are very cool🫐

@choco0ne I just love your Peppizza art!❤️❤️

@delta-muy don't stalk me, I'm right at your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers and candy, I love you little fox

@megil0pedro Bro, I swear we're going to blow up this dude's house, we just have to wait a little while until it becomes legal.

@alextydaisuda123 THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE FIRST ART TRADE!!

@gggiiidd I understand that you may not see it right away, but despite all the hardships, you will cope! I promise, everything will be fine!❤️in the end I had the same situation and everything worked out in the end..

Remember that even if I didn't tag you, you are still a wonderful person and an artist! um.. even if you are not an artist. anyway, have a great day everyone and I share with you my favorite blueberries🫐🫐🫐

plus I'll add that I want to take a break from tumblr, I don't know for how long, but for a couple of days for sure, everyone I told in response to the questions: don't panic! I'll answer everything, I just don't have any strength left right now(