#but like. i could do that to tide me over for the remaining two weeks

[bookwyrminspiration]

what the fuck am I supposed to write for the second half of nanowrimo if I’m done with the wings au what. what do I do in this situation

[aechii]

getting into a argument w jude before a big match and him thinking you two aren’t on good terms but before the game starts he spots you in his jersey in the crowd and has that extra boost of confidence to do well bc he considers u a good luck charm

₍⁠₍ DRiViNG FORCE ₎⁠₎

A/N ?! nothing much to say, other than, expect ALOT of jude works this next week heheh 🤭

in retrospect, jude's frustration was justified. blinded and consumed by workload- both her own and favours [y/n] had hesitantly agreed to take on- which had ultimately caused her deathly amounts of stress, she had missed jude’s past 5 games. it was something both her and him found distasteful, and after a long conversation, they had come to the (forced) agreement that she would show up to his next one, no questions asked.

so, of course, when she had informed him that she was due in for an extra day of work, unprecedented, jude’s uplifted mood and focused mindset merged into a catastrophic ensemble as annoyance and disappointment took over. and as she rushed around the kitchen to gather her things, jude remained stagnant and stood by the table as he watched her, frowning. 

“you’re really not coming?” jude questioned indignantly. it came out harsher than he intended, but with all due candor, he didn’t have the heart to care. 

[y/n] hurriedly leaned over the counter to grab her keys, but her boyfriend beat her to it, swiping it into his hands before shoving them into his pocket. 

“what the hell, jude?” 

“are you not listening to me? i asked you a question.”

jude’s stubbornness triggered [y/n] as she threw her arms up in the air. 

“what does it look like?” she retorted, annoyed, “i’m sorry but i really have to go.”

she attempted to reach for her keys, but was stopped by jude. his face turned frigid and a tide of disbelief succumbed him, “are you being serious right now? [y/n]- you haven’t been to any of my games for weeks!”

she checked the time, getting more desperate as she noticed it was 5 minutes past the time she was supposed to leave the house.

“jude, i’m sorry, okay? but i'm going to be late, we can talk about this later.”

he didn’t move, but rather stayed rooted in his spot, arms crossed as he glared at the girl before him. he was swallowed by fury, his mind trailing off on its own, and his mouth just let angered words tumble out.

“you’re so selfish. fucking go then.” his hand digs through his pocket, hurling the keys on the table before shoving his way back to the living room. 

[y/n] stood there, stilled with bewilderment as she attempted to process jude’s outburst. she understood that he had been m.i.a for the past few weeks, and hadn’t shown her face in support of jude. so much so, that fans started speculating that they had broken up, forcing them to reach dire needs of posting travel photos to compensate for her absence. 

but he needn’t call her that. they had talked about it many a time that [y/n] wasn’t ready to give up her job any time soon, and jude, albeit reluctantly, agreed for her to continue going. she knew it would be hard for him to understand as her work involved shifts and being called in spontaneously to fill in missing staff. 

[y/n] faded out of her shock, scoffing as her frustration lead her conscience, “if you want to be like that, then be like that jude,” she shouted to him, snatching her last belonging off of the table and heading to the door. 

she would've cared if she wasn't so pissed at jude, but she instead slammed the door behind her after jude slipped in his last attack. 

"i'll just find somebody else to wear my shirt then!"

+_-

jude could already feel how skewed his mind was the second his cleats sunk into the grass. he felt guilty, in all rights, for what he had said, but he truly was upset for the lack of [y/n]'s support. he realised that his game had dipped just bit, whether they lose or win, and consequently, his name was losing its shine on the scoresheet. 

everyone knew he performed better when she was there. gio had called her his 'good luck charm' to which jude replied with a sound of agreement because he thought so too. jude always had the urge to impress her even more, as if she wasn't vehemently aware of his talent, and it had him dominating the attacking line.

he could excuse 2 games maximum of no show, but now that this was turning into her 6th disappearance, he was getting fed up. 

"you look like there's a stick up your ass, what's wrong?" 

gio had commenced a side step circle around jude, in an attempt to dizzy the boy. it evokes a light look of judgment instead, but jude said nothing. 

"[y/n] isn't coming today… again."

his friend's face turns sympathetic and he stops his ministrations, walking up to him, "man, really?"

jude nodded, "yeah. and even if there was a slight chance she could, i've fucked that up too."

gio rolled his eyes, exhaling melodramatically, "what now?"

"i said that if she doesn't come then i'll just find someone else to wear my shirt." shame riddled his being, and his words progressively depleted in volume as gio looked punched by shock. 

"jude, what the fuck?" he tsked, "and how did she react to that? pissed? because it's very much deserved. matter of fact, i would've broken up with you."

jude's face turned hard, yet he felt his heart drop at the possibility. what he'd said was absolute shit, and it had given his girlfriend options, one of which was to leave him.

over his dead, fucking body.

"don't say that and no, we didn't break up. she just slammed the door and left."

"as if that makes anything any better, jude," gio retorted, arms crossed. he knew jude was quite an amateur when it came to gripping the reins of his feelings, but more times than not, it seemed like it was vice versa. 

marco noticed them slacking off, running up to them before they were being forced into a couple more training drills. jude knew that his playing headspace had to be on, but his conscience dallied between that and pondering over his fallout with [y/n] and he gave up, knowing that he was going to have another off-game. 

+_-

by half time, jude wanted out. they were 2-0 down, and marco was completely livid. his coach had watched them with complete confusion, trying to find the break in the circuit. if he had, and noticed that it was, in fact, jude himself, it was as if he was sworn to secrecy because most players but him were subbed out. 

jude had spaced out during the locker room talk, and his legs were on autopilot as they walked back into the field. his eyes were trained on the mass of black and yellow, in an attempt for a last string of hope, before he's interrupted by gio's voice. 

"jude, look!"

he pointed to the vip box, and jude squinted before his eyes set upon the undeniable stature of his girlfriend, dressed in his shirt. 

"no way."

his mind failed at formulating words, and the second they made eye contact, jude smiled and blew her a kiss. she didn't catch it, but rather gave him a humorous look that said, 'impress me'. 

gio watched the whole ordeal with a grin, hooking his arm around the boy before whispering in his ear, "fix the game, loverboy!"

jude snickers back, feeling his limbs light with exhilaration, "bet."

and the second he scored, he ran up to the stands, hands structured in his girlfriend's initial before making a heart. 

the smile she gave her would remain in his memories forever.

[aloesarchives]

Love and Tenacity (Tokyo Revenger One-shot)

Warning: Blood, Spoiler Warning, Angst, Swearing, Violence, Alternative Canon Divergence, Details of injuries, Mentions of Character Deaths, Lots of crying, The author(me) being an annoying narrator, Truck-kun obliterating Kisaki, Inaccurate medical information, Plot armor, super long fic, Mentions of starting a family

Series: Tokyo Revengers

Word Count: 7.2k words

Pairing: Manjiro “Mikey” Sano x Fem!Reader(Romantic), Takamichi x Fem!Reader(Platonic/Best Friends)

Pronouns: She/Her (Mikey call reader Baby and Princess)

Summary: Instead of Emma getting hit by Kisaki, you take the fall for her.

(A/N: This fic could’ve been way shorter then it needs to be but I had to word vomit a lot. Will edit this later. I actually have been planning to write this type of fic for a year now but never started it until like a weeks ago. Sorry for the inconsistent updates!)

[Not proofread! 7:19pmCST 11/29/2023]

As always, please enjoy!

The slight ringing in your ears had dulled out everything around you.

Your eyes were fixated on the sky, not a single cloud could be seen above. Like the gates were wide open for you to enter. No obstacles, no stairs, nothing between you and the endless cerulean sea that never failed to look beautiful every time.

The faint ringing created this humming effect, drowning out all and any noise. It was strange, it was almost comforting in a way you felt a sense of peace.

Your consciousness becomes like the ocean’s tide, rising and falling as time slows down. With your breathing becoming shallow with each passing second, you wondered if what you did would really change anything. What you did could really make a difference that changes everything forever. Takamichi is the only one that can time leap back and forth. Only he knows what you did affected the future. Yet were you able to live and see that reality yourself? Be alive and Takamichi telling you yourself?

Who knows, you wonder.

Face remained parallel with the sky and consciousness became faint, you were completely fazed out of reality. So out of it that you see two figures hovering over you. You can faintly hear bits and pieces of what they are saying, their voices muffled because your consciousness started to slide down the slope.

With blurry vision, you can make out the silhouettes of Emma and Takamichi. Emma, with big beads of tears in her eyes, has her hands covering her mouth to suppress her sobs. Her body shakes as she continues to cry, continuously shouting out your name. Takamichi isn’t any different. Panic and desperation was written all over him with his endless waterfall of tears. As he is hunched over your body, Takamichi continuously pleads for you to stay awake. 

To stay with them. 

You didn’t want to go, you wanted to stay with them. But your head throbbed and the aching feeling taking over your body, forming a response was something your body couldn’t do. Even blinking was hard because closing your eyes was tempting to enter eternal darkness forever.

As your two friends were desperate to save you and keep you leaving forever, your thoughts drift to Mikey and how he was dealing with all of this. Mikey has been through a lot. He lost so much and you have been there for him all the time.

Maybe Mikey was able to sort things out with Izana, or at least get some things across. You only hoped it wouldn’t be the start of leading him down a dark path.

[~~Flashback~~]

The cold winter air nipped at your lips as you made your way to meet Takamichi at the nearby park.

After the events of Bloody Halloween and Christmas Showdown, you wanted to know everything about Takamichi’s plan. You knew there was no way a junior high kid could have that much knowledge. 

There was something about him that made you want to know more about him. Prior to this, you have never met Hangaki Takamichi nor heard of him. You only ran into him when you accompanied Draken and Mikey when Kiyomasa was beating him up. Afterwards, Takamichi became this constant presence everywhere. He fought with the Toman gang when he wasn’t even a member, even saving them multiple times in the gang brawls.

This kid didn’t grow up with any of you guys yet he’s fighting for them like he’s known them for years. He was so persistent and had this conviction unlike any other person you have seen before in your life. You have to admit, Takamitchy wasn’t the strongest, smartest, or a good fighter for that matter. Yet he still goes in no matter what. He knows he’s going to lose but he still fights anyway.

Why?

You wanted that question answered by the boy himself so you asked him to meet up. He didn’t mind but he was concerned about what Mikey would think.

“Trust me, don’t worry about it. Mikey isn’t like that type of person. As long as I tell him the who, where, when, he won’t make a big deal out of it. Plus he’s not worried about you, Takamitchy.”

Is what you said to him on Friday before going home. It’s Saturday and Takamitchy was waiting for you on one of the swingsets. The anxiety was gnawing at him. Should he tell you why he’s really doing all of this? How would you react to it? 

Would you even believe him?

The chains from the swings clinked at his grip. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t know you had already arrived. Takamitchy jerked his head up at the sound of your footsteps. You greeted him and sat on the empty swing next to him. There was a small silence that fell upon the two of you. You couldn’t blame Takamitchy for being reluctant to talk. I mean, you literally pried at him to tell you his real intentions. And to be honest, the way you did it almost made Takamitchy piss his pants. 

It was like that for a moment before Takamitchy stops moving his swing and looks at you.

“Would you believe even if what I’m telling you is true?”

Caught off guard, you looked at Takamitchy with wide eyes before your signature smile made an appearance on your lips.

“I mean, I have to at this point. I’ve never seen anyone so devoted to fight and save even though they’re not powerful. You never purposely lied to them so you wouldn’t lie to me, right Takamitchy?”

Shaking his head, he looks at you with absolute seriousness.

“No, I don’t want to. The things I’m doing aren’t even for me really but they ended up involving everyone. I need to do this because I have to!”

“ *hums* Then tell me about it, Takamitchy.” 

With that, Takamitchy tells you everything about what he’s doing. How, in the future, the consistent deaths of Hana and his friends have haunted him relentlessly. That he has the ability to travel back in time to certain years depending on how much time has passed. The only reason why he got himself involved with Toman was because Hana’s death was linked to the gang. That there were futures where Draken was either dead or on death row, how some of the other members were dead in one. That one person was behind everything that kept creating such bleak futures: Kisaki Tetta.

As you listened and asked for clarification with what Takamitchy was saying, you couldn’t help but feel sympathetic, astonished, and even heartbroken. Astonished in Takamitchy doing all of this and having the willpower to keep going. But you also felt heartbroken and sympathetic because he had to witness the people his friends and the love of his life die right in front of him. You don’t blame him at all for doing what he had to do, and frankly you would do the same if it meant saving the ones you care about.

“And that’s pretty much it, (Y/N). I know it sounds crazy but it’s all true.”

“Isn’t there anyone else, Takamitchy?”

He looked at you quizzically, legitimately not understanding your lack of disbelief of what he was telling you. Instead, you were still questioning him like it was normal.

“What do you mean by that, (Y/N)?”

“As in, who else did you not see in your future timelines? You said that in other timelines, Ken-chin was dead or on death row. Other timelines, everyone else was dead. I feel like we’re missing something here. Like there has to be someone else that plays a role in the downward spiral of Mikey.”

“(Y/N), I don’t see what you’re trying to get at.”

“Takamitchy, think about it. From what you have told me, Mikey goes down this dark path because he loses the people closest in life. Shinichiro, Baji, Draken, what if there’s someone else we are not including. Like what about Emma? Do you know if she’s in the future?”

It took a few seconds to process what you just said, more so the last part. He would have retorted if it weren’t for the realization to hit him.

“(Y-Y/N), you’re not saying Emma dies, are you?”

“Takamitchy, look, I’m no detective. But think about it. If you said everyone is somewhat dead in the future, wouldn’t that include her too? Only you have been to the future, but how come you didn’t question it? You didn’t see her around when you went back to the future at all?”

“I-I…(Y/N)...”

Even though he didn’t give you an answer, his reaction and the fact his eyes are filled with slight panic gave you one. But with this revelation, it meant that Mikey was inevitably going to lose another loved one, specifically his sister. Once that fact settled in for you, your heart sank to the bottom of your soul. Heartache and agony took over your body, if Takamitchy couldn’t save Emma this time, it would guarantee that Mikey would fall into depravity. 

‘Mikey…’

You couldn’t let that happen. No, you just can’t. You loved Mikey so much that you don’t know what to do if you lost him. Just thinking about the future versions of Mikey from Takamichi’s recounts made you nauseous and break out into a cold sweat.

You know that Takamichi can’t do this all on his own. His mission will need all the help that he can get, and you were on board with it. Fuck, you do anything for Mikey and your friends.

“Then we gotta do this, Takamitchy. I may not be strong or anything but I wanna help you with this. You have my full support.”

Takamichi nods his head with his classic determined look that you’ve grown to admire. Though this meeting happened before Izana was added into the picture. Takamichi’s resolve to continue on grew more since you gave him reassurance of your help. And perhaps, this meeting only made your friendship stronger.

[~~Flashback Ends~~]

You knew you had to protect and save Emma of a fate that would lead to her premature death. You were well aware how much Emma meant to Mikey, and her dying meant Mikey losing the last family member that cared for him. 

Plus Emma didn’t deserve such a fate. She wasn’t involved in the gang at all other than being the little sister of Mikey. But even then, this wasn’t outspoken knowledge and kept hidden except for those in their close circle. To get her caught up in all of these was wrong and scumbag-level. So it was no surprise when Mikey opened up to you about Izana and their shared history together. 

But to know that Izana was trying to get Mikey to fight him by any means necessary, you expected foul play to happen. Yet, not where they were going to target someone and get them killed. It was sickening and cruel for this to happen, even in gangs filled with teenagers who were too chicken to even attempt this. But what happened to Pah’s friend and his girlfriend, it could happen.

All the more reasons to keep a close eye on Emma. But there was another reason why you couldn’t let her die. One time, Mikey took you out on his motorcycle through the city. He took you by the ocean as he zoomed and weaved through the streets of Tokyo. As he stopped and parked his bike, you and Mikey were chilling under the night sky while snacking on freshly made Taiyaki. As the two of you were talking, he mentions how he wants Emma to have a nice domestic life with Draken. You question him further and he just states:

“They care about each other. Emma loves Draken, and Draken cares deeply for Emma. It would make sense, and I would be fine with it.”

You never expected Mikey to say something like that. It’s not like he doesn’t have a way with words, it’s more of he never put much thought into it unless it was serious. So for him to say something like this really changed your perspective. Mikey does seem like a selfish and childish person, but in reality he does care for his friends and siblings. He doesn’t like being publicly vulnerable about these things. Even though Emma is his half-sister, he still loves her regardless. Since Shinichiro is gone, it’s just the two of them. So they have a very close sibling relationship.

All the more reason why Emma shouldn’t be endangered, she was a nice girl that deserves to live her life.

She was the reason why you and Mikey are together. So her dying would impossibly crush your heart and soul. You didn’t know how to live with that, more so with trying to be there for Mikey because he tends to push people away.  But you opt to sacrifice yourself in place of Emma. While not a part of the gang, you have been at their meetings and helped them with some of their brawls. So your hands are dirty compared to Emma’s.

Gosh, you’re not just doing this for a dear friend. But you’re also doing this for the boy you loved so dearly and for years. You just hoped the outcome would guarantee a better future for everyone that’s still alive.

You didn’t regret this at all because all you wished for was Mikey to be happy too.

—————————————————————————

It just happened so fast.

Takamichi, Emma, and you were exiting out of the cemetery to grab some drinks in a nearby machine. As the three of you were waiting for Mikey and Inupi to be done talking to Izana, a small humming sound could be heard in the distance. At first, you guys thought it was just the buildings and paid no attention to it. However, it suddenly got louder and the three of you turned your heads towards the street. Out of nowhere, there was a motorcycle speeding and b-lining it down the street towards you three. However, you noticed someone holding a baseball bat while riding the cycle. 

Perhaps it was pure instinct or intuition, but seeing someone holding a bat in the air while being a passenger of a vehicle isn’t a good sign. Suddenly, you shouted for Takamichi to duck while you immediately pulled Emma in front of you and used yourself as a shield. Unfortunately, your body didn’t take the hit but your head certainly did. The metallic ring of the bat and the silence followed by that was absolutely sickening. 

It was barely thirty seconds and so many things had happened. Once the motorcycle had zoomed off, Takamichi turned around and looked horrified. Though Emma was alive, she was hunched over you as she was shaking your body and calling your name. Once the brief shock wore off, Takamichi dashed over and kneeled over you as Emma stood up. She stared frightened as one of her hands had your blood on it. The comotion had caused Mikey and Inupi to come out of the cemetery to find out what was going on. As Izana left quietly, Inupi and Mikey were in a state of shock with the scene in front of them. Emma and Takamichi were crying as Takamichi kept shaking your unmoving body which laid on the asphalt.

Takamichi was trying to explain to Mikey that Kisaki did this to you but his hiccups from his sobs blocked his words. But honestly, even if Takamichi told him, he probably wouldn’t listen because all he cared about was you going to the hospital and being alive. Mikey wasted no time, he told Takamichi to place you on his back so he can run to the hospital with you. Emma wanted to go with them too but Mikey told her only he and Takamichi should go because they would be faster. Plus he told Emma that her shoes wouldn’t allow her to run and she could get hurt while running. Inupi butts in and says he’ll take care of Emma while the two of them take care of you.

The two took off as Mikey and Takamichi sprinted towards the hospital. As they take the side streets and alleyways, the rapid movement causes you to wake up for a bit. Your vision was blurry and your whole body ached, but you recognized that it was Mikey that was carrying you.

“M-Mikey… Is that you?”

Mikey doesn’t pause for a moment but he instantly softens up when he hears you speak.

“Yeah… It’s me, Baby… Don’t worry, you’re going to be okay… Takamitchy is also with us too…”

You shifted your head on Mikey’s shoulder to face Takamichi who’s running alongside him. He doesn’t smile when he sees your eyes on him but you could see the hopefulness in his. You slowly smile at Takamichi as you shift your head once more so your forehead rests on top of Mikey’s shoulder blade.

“Mikey… I don’t think my eyes are working… And my body is hurting all over that it’s hard to move around…”

“I know I know, (Y/N)-chan… Just a little longer… Please… We’re almost there… Just hang on a little more…”

Because of your injury, you couldn’t register what Mikey was saying to you but you just kept smiling. Something that made Takamichi afraid. With your forehead still pressed against him, you still try to talk the best you can.

“Mikey… Tell Emma it’s not her fault… I did this to myself… Tell Draken and the rest they have been great friends, I l-love them like brothers… And Takamichi-kun, please tell Hana that… that she’s a wonderful friend and I appreciate her a lot. Please take… good care… of her… I think you did it right t-this time… It’s up to you now…”

As you kept talking, Mikey involuntarily picked up his pace causing Takamichi to fall behind for a bit. They were so close to the hospital. If you would hold out a little longer, you would be okay.

You would be, right?

Because of the running, Takamichi wouldn’t see it but you felt it from your spaced out consciousness. Mikey was shaking, his whole body was shaking uncontrollably. It was something Mikey couldn’t admit but he was terrified. Terrified that you, the love of his love, the moon to his stars in the night sky, his best friend, would die and be lost from him forever. No, this can’t happen. You’re strong, stronger than most people. You’re one of the strongest people Mikey knows. You couldn’t go down without a fight. Though your will was strong, Mikey’s denial delusions were stronger. He keeps telling himself that you will be okay and make it out alive. That if he gets you to the hospital, it’s fine. But from what you said, the fear of your death grew stronger in him every step he took to save you. There was nothing more terrifying than for someone to see their beloved die right in front of their eyes. Takamichi knew this all too well seeing Hana die right in front of him.

For him to see Mikey go through the same thing was heartbreaking because he was supposed to prevent this from happening. Yet he indirectly caused it to happen by telling you of his time travel ability and the future timelines he witnessed. He becomes guilt-ridden as he played a role in your death, and he’ll suffer the consequences. Takamichi notices the side street that they were on and they were five minutes away from the hospital. As Takamichi caught up with Mikey, your voice became more hoarse and quiet. This wasn’t good. Mikey wished you kept quiet so you could save your strength.

“M-Mikey… You need to start to take… better care of yourself… You can’t just rely on Kenny and Em to do it…”

“(Y/N), princess, what are you talking about? What about you, you take care of me too, don’t you?”

“Yy-yeah… But I think not anymore…”

“(Y-Y/N)-chan, please… You know… I had a dream where it’s just you and me… We have our own place with our own little family… Once you put the little ones to sleep… We hangout with Ken-chin, Takamitchy-kun, Mitsuya, and everyone at our home… We get to eat and drink all the sake we want as you scold me to quiet down because I would wake up the kids… And everyone would be laughing and having a good time as you punk me around…”

You don’t respond right away, which scared Mikey for a bit, but you hummed and spoke up once more.

“That’s such… a nice dream… Mikey…”

“Yeah, baby, I think about it often. I could only imagine that life with you, I wouldn’t know what to do if it wasn’t with you… So (Y/N), please…”

“Manjiro-kun…?”

Oh god, please don’t…

“Yes, (Y/N)...?”

“I love you…”

They were legitimately right in front of the hospital when your body goes slack against Mikey's body. They were right there, if only they were faster.

After that, everything was a blur. Inupi dropped off Emma at the hospital before driving back to Toman’s meeting spot. Not long after, Draken then Hana arrived. The doctor that had his staff take you in didn’t come back out yet. As Takamichi filled them in, the minutes felt like hours. Wondering what condition you’re in, or whether or not you’re still with them or not. Hana was trying to comfort Emma who was sobbing, clearly traumatized from what had happened. Draken stands and stares at the closed ICU doors, and Takamichi stands by the chairs waiting for your news. Meanwhile, Mikey’s seating and is just a shell of himself. His eyes were void of any light and his head hung low to hide his depressive face. He was numb, he doesn’t feel anything nor couldn’t even if he wanted to. The thought of losing you never occurred to him. He always reassured you that he was the strongest, that he could protect you from anyone and anything that dared to harm you. He found out the hard way what happens when he can’t. This is what will happen to you when he’s not careful with you. 

After a few hours, the doctor came out and everyone but Mikey stood up and went over to hear your condition. Are you okay? Are you even still alive? They needed to know.

“ The surgery was a success. Your friend is alive because you brought her in within 15 minutes of what I assume was the accident that caused it.”

The friends wanted to cheer and celebrate making it out alive. But with the weight of the doctor’s eyes, it tells a different story. So all they can do is release a sigh of relief.

“However, her injury did cause some bleeding. I don’t know what object hit her, the force of the object caused her skull to have a depression fracture. That fracture created small fragments where some stabbed her outer brain layer that caused the bleeding. Though her skull will heal naturally, the force of the blunt trauma caused her to have a severe concussion. With that, after the operation, she was placed in a medically-induced coma. We believe this is the best choice for her recovery.”

“Do you know when she will wake up?” Takamichi hesitantly asked.

“I can’t say for sure. The coma is meant to help her body recover and reset her body from what has happened. Even though we placed her under, it’s not strong and she can wake up if her brain allows her to. It could be at least 12 hours or more when she wakes up though.”

The doctor excuses himself as a nurse tells them that only two people at a time can see you. Hana and Emma were the first to go. Draken decided while the girls were seeing you, to ask Mikey to come outside to have a little talk.

But it was anything but one.

There, Draken was laying it on Mikey, whaling him in the face each time. And while Mikey was allowing the blows to come. No flinching or wincing whatsoever. It was like Mikey had shut down completely. Takemitchi was trying to hold back Draken but got shocked in the face in doing so. It was a chaotic scene in the parking lot. Draken was beating the daylights out of Mikey while Takamichi was trying to split them up and ended up bowing his head on the floor. Takamichi apologized profusely to Draken because he was technically there when you got hit so he was responsible for your condition. He hadn’t realized it but Draken was crying as he raised his fist to punch Mikey again. Yet the punch never connected. He stood there, letting his tears freely fall with his lip slightly quivering to keep his sobbing from spilling out. 

“We created Toman to protect our friends, Mikey! But Pah is in jail! Kazutora is in Jail! Baji’s now dead! And (Y/N)–! She’s… She’s in a coma! Who knows when she will wake up! Or if she will wake up… What the hell is the point of creating this gang if we can't protect our family!!!”

Draken was beyond frustrated and terrified. Frustrated as within a year their friends are getting hurt or being sent away to jail. Frustrated that he couldn’t be there to protect his friends when things like this happened. He was also terrified that he was losing them so fast. Being plucked away like they were petals on a flower. The girls were done and were going to retrieve the boys for their turn. When they didn't see them in the waiting room, however, they searched around to come out to the parking lot after hearing Draken’s yelling. They only saw the aftermath but from the bruises on Mikey’s face, Takamichi’s tears, and Draken heaving, they pieced it together. Draken made way to where you were with Takamichi hot on his tail.

It was strange to see you like this. There you laid, on the hospital bed hooked onto a heart monitor and multiple IV drips. You looked so peaceful and serene where you slept, unaware of the chaos that will ensue soon. Maybe it was a good thing that you were like this, of what is to come in the showdown between Tenjuku and Toman. But reality was always uncertain, Takamichi knew this. Things may not go his plan but he’s damn sure that he will try his best.

Draken had a blank expression but his tears kept coming. He has known you as long as he has known Mikey. You and him were practically siblings, always butting heads but backing each other when the other needed help. He always looked out for you in ways you were unaware of because you always had the tendency to care for them before yourself. And now he has seen how your kind and loving heart can be seen as a weakness, people taking advantage of it because they knew you would fight for everyone before you could save yourself.

Draken kept staring while Takamichi knew he had to do it. It was up to him now to lead Toman against Tenjuku as both their commander and vice-commander are currently out of commission. Takamichi had talked with Hana and Emma before leaving. He now had a new motive to keep fight on as this battle wasn’t just for Toman:

This fight is for you too.

—————————————————————————

After rallying any of the remaining Toman members, Takamichi faces off against Tenjuku that night. 

Fuck, it was hard.

Not only being outnumbered by many, but they were down their strongest members. With Mitsuya and Smiley injured and Mikey and Draken not showing up, it seemed like the fight was already decided. But with Takamichi leading, Toman still kept on fighting, being powered by his dauntless spirit. Angry unlocked his sleeping blue orge powers and knocked down three of Tenjuku’s executives with two of them being the Hataini Brothers. Yet they still had one challenge to face.

Izana Kurokawa, the leader of Tenjuku himself.

Like any last boss fight, he was strong. He knocked down all of Toman’s best members, and he seemed unstoppable. Takamichi was getting absolutely rocked by Kakucho. Blood sept out of his mouth and nose, he was hurting all over and knew he had some broken bones, but he didn’t care. Chifuyuu tried to convince him that Toman would never win this fight, they are outnumbered and too injured to carry on. But Takamichi didn’t care about that. His conviction shone brighter than ever that night. His determination, his tenacity, was unwavering when Kisaki aimed his gun point blank at Takamichi’s face. He knew if Toman loses tonight, Tenjuku and Kisaki would win. He would never give it to them no matter what because he was so close to fixing the timeline, he would be able to save everyone. He is not letting that chance slip through, not when he can do it right now.

In the face of Kisaki aiming straight at his forehead, Takamichi wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t afraid of him, nor of Tenjuku, nor of anyone. He wasn’t afraid of you dying anymore because you wouldn’t die on him, die on your friends when they needed you.

That you wouldn’t die on Mikey because you knew he would be lost and devastated without you.

You may not be a leader or one of their strongest, but you were still a part of Toman for a reason. You were a fighter. Fighting for those who can’t fight for themselves, fighting to protect and save your friends, to keep on fighting with such conviction for your family, the Toman gang. Takamichi fully understands why you did what you did and it helped him be fearless against Tenjuku. Provoking and taunting Kisaki in every way he can, even with the gunshot wound to his foot. Takamichi smirked at Kisaki seeing him lose his composure and stood toe to toe with him. In that moment, Toman was fueled by his determination and ignited the spirit of Toman once more. Kisaki trying to save his pride looked down upon Toman for their stupid antics, thinking he’s still on top as the kingpin of everything. That only for Takamichi to give him a well-deserved punch right across his face.

Then Takamichi suddenly stood proudly with his fist up in the air, claiming that he would never give up. Everyone was confused until they followed Takamichi’s line of sight and saw Mikey. Not only that, Draken arrived too with Hina and Emma right behind him. Everyone was beyond shock, Toman for seeing their leaders and Tenjuku seeing Emma alive. They thought Kisaki killed Emma but they guessed wrong since she was standing with them alive and well. It was only then Kisaki realized his mistake, he got you instead of her. Now he knows why Toman is a pain in his side and won’t stay down.

Hina explained to Takamichi that she had to tell them about his time-leaping ability. His mission for a future where all of them lived. How she will die in twelve years time and Takamichi is doing everything he can to save her and everyone else. What she was saying sounded straight out of a movie but it was all true when his desperation and determination was right in front of them. That it was your choice to save Emma from an early death because you knew how much she meant to Draken and Mikey. You wanted to help Takamichi achieve a future where everyone is alive and okay because you loved them so much. 

After Hina told them, Mikey snapped out of his hollow state and walked to where your room was. As the nurse was checking your vitals, she saw him walking towards your window and called him over. Since your condition stabilized, one guest is allowed to see you in your room. As the nurse opened the door for him, Mikey quietly strides to your bedside and stares at you. It may not be an appropriate time but Mikey always thought you looked so beautiful and enthralling no matter what was going on. He just stares a bit more before bending over and placing a small kiss on your forehead.

‘(Y/N), I have to go help Takamichi out. Please wait for me until I help them win. Hold on just a little longer for me.’

He squeezes your hand gently but reassuringly. It was mostly for him to know that you would make it out and wake up for them. As he leaves your room and goes back to Draken, he didn’t see the slight twitch your hand gave when he let go.

Now here he is, with Draken and Toman to aid them in their fight against Tenjuku. Mikey shouldn’t be here but he knew that you would have wanted him here to help Toman then staying with you. As Izana and Mikey battle it out, Takamichi could only watch as they were evenly matched. But as the fight kept going on, Izana started to falter and grew weaker. Mikey was beating him and Izana was slowly losing his mind because of it. In a moment of desperation, Izana snatched Kisaki’s gun and pointed it straight at him. Just like Takamichi, Mikey provoked Izana to shoot him only for Kakucho to smack the gun out of his hand. They argued until a shot was fired and Izana’s face splattered with a bit of blood.

Kisaki had shot Kakucho.

Kisaki was getting annoyed that his master plan was crumbling apart like a sand castle. If he couldn’t use Mikey then he would use Izana. In a fit of rage, Kakucho charges right at Kisaki. Kisaki shot again, this time hitting Izana. But when he tried pulling the trigger again, the gun was jammed and couldn’t fire another shot. Since the gun was useless, Kisaki fell to the ground from the adrenaline rush. The chaos continued to thrive as Tenjuku’s king and his servant laid on the ground, bleeding out. Mucho shouted for an ambulance as everyone remained stunned at what had happened. As the cops and ambulance were coming, everyone was pulling out except for Tenjuku’s executives. As Mikey stares deadly at Kisaki, he looks down at him with such disappointment and disgust for causing all of this… for putting in the hospital.

Before he and Takamichi could approach the bastard, Hanma grabbed Kisaki on his motorcycle and sped off. Takamichi hitches a ride with Draken while Mikey stays with the girls. After crashing, Kisaki was being chased by a determined Takamichi. After duking it out, Kisaki points his gun again at Takamichi. The manipulator was starting to cry out of frustration as Takamichi hit him on the money for why he kept killing Hina in the future. But as always, Takamichi had the upper hand and was able to get Kisaki’s gun and point right back at him. He was so tempted to shoot if it weren’t for Mikey and Hina.

Kisaki used this little distraction to get away but Takamichi was hot on his tail.

“My plan would have been perfect if it wasn't (Y/N) and her virtue signaling! She had what was coming to her instead of letting Emma take the hit! I could have had it all!”

He continues to spout nonsense until he stops in the middle of the crosswalk. He turned back at Takamichi and told him that he was leading him on this whole time; he wasn’t a time leaper.

As Takamichi revels in this new found information, Kisaki gives his shit-eating grin to him before getting slammed by a delivery truck. In a blink of an eye, Kisaki was fatally mangled as he was trying to get back up but his legs were twisted backwards and kneecaps out of place. 

In a flash, Kisaki was dead and that was the end of the battle with Tenjuku. There was only one casualty and that was Kisaki Tetta.

—————————————————————————

It had been two days since you were placed into a coma. Takamichi and everyone came to visit you to see how you were doing. Though you weren’t in any danger, you had not shown any progress of consciousness. While it worried the others, Takamichi and Mikey never lost hope that they would wake up again and come back.

And they were right.

On the third day, Hina and Emma were going to visit you when they were told you were placed in a different room outside of the ICU. Quickly, they made their way to your new room where they found you wide awake. Sipping a capri-sun as you sat up on the bed, turning your head to smile at the teary eyed girls. Emma ran over to you and hugged you tightly, still trying to be careful of your injuries, while Hina grabbed her phone to tell Takamichi the news. Their tears were soon joyed by everyone else as they made their way to the hospital. As Mikey, Takamichi, and Draken practically spirited to your room. As they slid the door open, they were greeted by a crying Emma that was being comforted by you as Hina stands on the other side of your bed talking to you. You didn’t notice them until Mikey whispered out your name, turning your head to smile at them while still holding Emma.

Draken and Takamichi had tears in their eyes. For Draken, you survived and are up back again. For Takamichi, it means that he didn’t fuck it this time. That he was able to save you, Emma, Draken, and Izana from a bleak future. That he finally accomplished what he sought out to do in the very beginning. The closest timeline for Takamichi to give everyone a happy ending. 

He finally did it.

As Hina ushered Emma, Draken, and Takamichi out of the room, it was now just you and Mikey. You can tell he was tired, probably losing sleep on wondering if your condition would get better. As you held out your arms to him, he made haste and hugged you tightly. It was Mikey’s turn to cry as he held you for the first time in three days. His face was buried in your head as his hand held it close to him while his other arm held your upper back. You were rubbing his back and hair softly so he could bask in the reality that you were okay. 

“I was… so scared that I was going to lose you, (Y/N)... That you were going to end up like Shin-ni and Baji…”

“Oh Mikey…”

“ *holds you tighter* I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to protect you… I was supposed to be there with you… I just… Couldn’t imagine my life if you were gone…”

You soften at how vulnerable Mikey was becoming. But you didn’t know the depth of seriousness he had for you until now.

“Well, I’m alive and awake, Mikey. I’m here with you, I’m going anywhere without.”

Mikey sighs, kissing your forehead before placing his on yours with his eyes closed.

“I’m serious about you, princess. I want to be with you forever, I want to have a future with you. A future for us… I need you, (Y/N)... I love you…”

“Oh, I love you too, Majiro-kun… I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

With that, you two sealed the promise with a gentle but loving kiss. You love Mikey and he loves you as well. As you pull away, you hug him again before asking him to let Takamichi talk to you. He goes to get him, not before placing a kiss on your cheek. Takamichi enters the room and you grin ear to ear seeing him as he is happy to see you awake.

“Come on, Takamitchy. You can relax for a bit! You saved everyone!”

“Yeah, but you gave me a heart attack, (Y/N)!! I get why you did what you did but it still doesn’t help that I was constantly thinking about how you were doing!”

“Oh, Takamitchy. I thought I told you to have faith in me! I’m not going down so easily like that! Trust!”

“(Y/N)...”

You drop the peppy and light act and shift towards a solemn one.

“So I heard Kisaki is dead…”

Takamichi nods to confirm your question.

“How did he die? Did you kill him, Takamitchy?”

“I… I actually didn’t…”

You straightened up your posture and stared at him in surprise.

“You didn’t?! Then how—”

“He was struck by a truck at a crosswalk. He died not too long after…”

“Hmmm, I see. At least you didn’t have to get your hands dirty, Takamitchy. I couldn’t imagine you going to jail for his death. I guess even God wanted him dead too so he decided to add some divine intervention into our mix and give us a boost.” You chuckled at the last part. It was a little humorous that Kisaki didn’t die at the hands of either Takamichi or Mikey.  But rather, he died due to being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe God was tired of Kisaki’s shit and decided to help Takamichi out. Who knows? 

But what matters is you’re alive, Takamichi is alive, everyone is alive. You were able to help him save everyone and now everyone can have a future to look forward to.

“I guess your work is done here then. So are you going back to the future after this visit?”

“Most likely…”

“I understand… Thank you for all your hard work, Takamichi… I appreciate all you have done and look forward to this new future that you have set…”

“Yeah… We’ll see (Y/N)...”

As you and Takamichi hug it out and high five each other, you tell him to bring the rest inside to join you two. Draken was salty that he didn’t get a personal moment like the rest did but you told him it will happen soon enough. After visiting you, Takamichi went back to the future that night. As he shook Naoto’s hand one last time, he firmly believed that he created a better future and timeline this time. 

And he was more than correct.

In this timeline, he is getting married to Hina. Draken and Emma are married and already have a baby. You and Mikey already had your wedding and were planning your next decisions for your two’s future. As Takamichi saw how happy and bright Mikey was towards you, he knew he finally stopped the cycle. With everyone alive, he could be happy and rest with the fact that he achieved the future he wanted. Hina is alive, Draken is alive, Emma is alive, and you and Mikey are alive too. Though he wished he could save Baji and Shinichiro, this still was a good outcome from what happened.

Against all odds, Takamichi was able to accomplish his goal in saving Hina and his friends. Though it may not be perfect, it was enough that his sacrifices weren’t in vain as everyone was alive and happy. All thanks to your help and his efforts. 

Now he can fully rest and live in this future as everything is going to be okay from now on.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(A/N: I probably edit this later this week because I still don't know how to make good endings for my fics, lol. Sorry again if this was too long to read!)

Thank you for reading!

[wolfmoonmusic]

Calloused Hearts - 4

Summary: Trouble stirs, but maybe it was for the better. Or for the worse.

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Tidemaker!reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Kaz’s touch aversion

w/c: 1.5k+

A/N: I'M BACK! And in view of sab ss2 I thought "what better way to start of than by continuing this beautiful fic?" so here I am.

I'm a tad bit rusty, so please sympathize. But here y'all go.

&lt;<prev chapter

Chapter 4:

A week.

You’d spent a week getting better, gambling, teasing Jesper and hanging out with the crows.

But most of all, you’d spent a week avoiding Kaz.

Although at this point you couldn’t tell if you were avoiding him or if he was avoiding you. But, it seemed like a mix of the two. 

You watched as he made his way down the stairs, your eyes temporarily diverting from the drink in front of you. Jesper cleared his throat next to you, earning a jab in his side from Wylan. “What?! It’s like a full blown romance novel!” Your head spun around, wide eyes landing on your friend. “Cut that out will you? He could hear you!” you whispered. “Well he already knows. ‘Till the tide goes sti-” you clapped your hand over his mouth, sending him a warning look.

Yes.

You’d told him. He’d found it rather amusing. However he didn't seem to understand the fact that it had to remain a secret. You pulled away, still watching him carefully as he held up his hands. “Sorry,” he muttered.

You turned back around to face Kaz, the familiar hollow feeling settling in your chest. He was talking to Inej now, the girl’s body language, a hand on her knives, worrying you. 

“Something’s wrong,” you say, watching Kaz’s expression harden even from this distance.

And then his eyes are on yours.

Piercing. Hard. And yet again, unreadable.

His head tilted to the left slightly, the age old gesture causing you to spring to your feet. You pull at Jesper’s hand dragging him along, ignoring his protests about a drink going to waste.

It was weird. No matter how long you’d spent apart, the signal never changed. Your understanding of each other was still rather perfect. You followed Kaz and Inej up the stairs, the other crows following behind. 

You couldn’t imagine what it was. What made Kaz call you up here along with the others? If he had to contact you all, why tell you directly? Why hadn’t he told anyone else?

Maybe. Just maybe…you were regaining his trust.

You all piled into his office, Inej sending a worried look your way.

Maybe not.

“Inej picked up on intel. Pekka Rollins is working with the stadwatch and Grisha now.” Kaz said, placing his hands on his desk and leaning over it.

“Why would he do that?” Jesper asked from next to you. 

“Because then he hits two birds with one stone.” 

What did he mean?

“I don’t get it,” Wylan responded, “ am I the only one that doesn’t get it?”

“No. I’m confused as well,” Nina added.

“He’s heard we’re harboring a Grisha that’s supposed to reward him with nearly 3 million kruge. And with the stadwatch’s help. He’ll take us down too.”

“3 million?” Jesper gawked.

Kaz wasn’t only keeping you away from Pekka. He was protecting you from the Grisha as well.

But he chose to not hand you over? Even if that meant losing 3 million kruge? And Pekka coming after him again?

“I’m sorry, Let me get this straight,” Inej started, “ You’re protecting her,” she said pointing to you, “even with a bounty of 3 million kruge over her head?”

You cowered away. 3 million could help them. Set them straight. Kaz didn’t even know the full story of what had happened to you. According to what he knew, you lived a luxurious life at the Little Palace. So why not get rid of you?

But what Kaz did next sent shivers down your spine.

“And what if I am Inej?” he asked, his tone menacing low.

The 7 of you stood there awkwardly, as you tried to stop your mind from racing.

What was Kaz thinking?

You felt an arm around your shoulders, and you did your best to stay still and not flinch at the sudden contact. 

“Even if you’d decided to trade her off. I wouldn’t let you,” Jesper remarked, squeezing your shoulder lightly. He shrugged, “She’s the only fun one around here.”

You smiled at Jesper, catching the others nod from the corner of your eye.

“I don’t mean that you’re not fun to be around,” Inej smiled slightly. She turned to Kaz, “I just don’t understand him sometimes.”

Kaz’s eyes were on yours. His face was blank. His eyes, however, were swarming with all sorts of emotion. He seemed angry, confused, a little relieved and …jealous?

“If you understood him there’d be no point in his existence,” Nina chimed in. 

His eyes landed on Nina, sending a glare her way, “I wanted to tell you all to be alert. Nina, see what you can find out from the stadwatch, and Inej, stick to the shadows.”

Both girls gave him quick nods, before leaving. “The rest of you, do your best to act normal,” he said, sorting through stuff on his desk. 

“That’s our cue,” Jesper said, using his arm around you to guide you out, your head swarming with the information that had been laid out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night as you made your way to Kaz’s room, you had to remind yourself that there was no other logical explanation.

It had to be done.

Just as you were about to knock on the door, Kaz’s voice sounded from the room, “Come in.”

You closed the door behind you, walking in hesitantly, unsure of how you were going to tell him, and how he would take it.

But you didn’t have to.

“I won’t let you do it,” he said. 

He was sitting on a chair, only one lantern illuminating the room, as shadows danced around. 

You thought it depicted your heart quite well.

The light was in front of you. Disheveled hair, tired features, and an outstretched leg. 

And the shadows were everything that had ever gone wrong in your life.

How much longer ‘till the light decided he was done glowing for you?

“Let me do what?” you asked, voice trembling slightly. You knew what he meant. But you couldn’t believe that he said it.

“I won’t let you turn yourself in.”

There it was.

“It’s 3 million kruge Kaz. That could get you all settled for life.”

“So what?” he asked, leaning forward. He was scarily calm, his face illuminated ever so slightly.

“So what?! So I’m saying that I should go. That I need to go. That it would keep Pekka off of you for a little while longer. Tha-”

“They’re all happy with you here.”

“Kaz-”

“They’ve warmed up to you quite fast. I’m not going to take that away from them.” 

You shook your head. “3 million kruge is a lot. Imagine the wonders it would do for all of you.” 

“And what about the wonders you do by being here?”

You froze. 

“Nina finally has someone that gets her humor. Wylan sees you as an older sister. Jesper thinks of you as a platonic soulmate. You’re the only one Matthias doesn’t want to be all over and can tolerate. And Inej-”

“Doesn’t like me” you cut him off.

He tilted his head to the side. “You’re wrong. Yet again. She admires you.”

You shook your head. “She doesn’t trust me. She admires the fact that you haven’t kicked me out yet, there’s a difference.”

Kaz just watched you, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Which I’m curious to know as well. 3 million kruge. PR, the stadwatch and grisha off of your back. What am I still doing here?” you ask, the words finally falling out of your mouth.

Kaz stilled. He looked away from you for a moment, before standing up and walking over to you.

You weren’t short, but Kaz had quite a few inches on you, and as he stood in front of you, eyes boring into yours, you felt your stomach do multiple flips.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he whispered.

Your heart raced. “Why?” you asked, your eyes searching his.

He closed his eyes, and you felt his gloved hand over yours. Not holding your hand, not moving, just there. Your breath hitched, as his eyes opened again.

“Because, you said,” he paused, swallowing thickly as he visibly struggled to keep his eyes on yours, “you said - ‘till the tide goes still,” he looked away, unable to maintain eye contact any longer. Your eyes widened in shock. You didn’t think he’d remember.

“Yes. I did. Why are you bringing that up now?” you whispered. 

He looked at you again, his eyes fierce. “You didn’t hear me say it back that night.”

You couldn’t think. It seemed as though, just for a moment, the light in the room was a little brighter. Just for a moment. Because, he couldn’t have meant in the way you had. Could he?

But before you could ask, the door swung open. You spun around as Kaz stepped away from you, both in shock.

A confused, and worried looking Jesper stood in the doorway.

“I’m sorry for ruining,” he waved his arms around, “whatever this was. But, I can’t find Wylan.”

next chapter>>

Tags: @ancientbeing10 @lila-kille @emmnf1 @gabby10100 @foulkryptonitepeanut @pinchofhoney @peaches1958 @lyria-skyfall @sabii5

[chairteeth]

Okay but consider: ASTRONOMY LESBIANS

This specific post is going to be me gushing over the astronomy potential Touka and Nemu have with each other and why it makes me feral, it's more me pointing out some things than any actual analysis. Still, here you go, have fun!

So, this is the thesis: Touka is the sun/day and Nemu is the moon/night.

First of all, night and day are intrinsically connected. The sun's light gives the moon its glow during the night and the moon remains present and visible during the day, if a little harder to see in the full light of the sun. The former sounds an awful lot like how Touka gave Nemu visibility to the general public through the website for her books and continues to do so on the regular, dutifully, and the latter is to me the same effect as any scene they're in together; everyone in-universe and outside of it always pays more attention to Touka, because she's the more boisterous one, louder, etc. The radiant sun, too bright to ignore compared to the soft glow of the moon.

Now, I love the moon's effect on the oceans on Earth. Its control over the tides is due to its gravity being strong enough that the tide is pulled slightly closer to it. If you look at when the tides are highest, you'll see that tides are always highest when the moon is directly overhead, but there's also another high tide on the opposite side of the planet. If you mapped it out, you'd get this oval shape of the tides, where a "tip" of the oval is always pointing at the moon. Well guess what, the SUN also does this! It's just less noticeable, but it's why low tide doesn't always happen when you think it would. And since they both do this, their effects can be combined! This is why the highest of tides always occur around full and new moons, with the effects being even stronger during lunar eclipses, and with solar eclipses being the strongest of them all, which probably added to the effect of ancient civilizations freaking out during them cause the tide was so high, it just added to the chaos of the sun being blocked out too. Tides are highest about the full and new moons because that is when the moon and the sun are lined up. Gee doesn't that sound familiar and like it could apply to a certain pair of idiots who work really well together (as per Ui's words).

Here's a helpful visual gif for the tide thing and some quotes from the National Ocean Service:

Together, the gravitational pull of the moon and the sun affect the Earth’s tides on a monthly basis. When the sun, moon, and Earth are in alignment (at the time of the new or full moon), the solar tide has an additive effect on the lunar tide, creating extra-high high tides, and very low, low tides — both commonly called spring tides. One week later, when the sun and moon are at right angles to each other, the solar tide partially cancels out the lunar tide and produces moderate tides known as neap tides.

And as a fun extra:

Once a month, at perigee, when the moon is closest to the Earth, tide-generating forces are higher than usual, producing above average ranges in the tides. About two weeks later, at apogee, when the moon is farthest from the Earth, the lunar tide-raising force is smaller, and the tidal ranges are less than average. When the Earth is closest to the sun (perihelion), around January 2 of the calendar year, tidal ranges are enhanced. At aphelion, when the Earth is furthest from the sun, around July 2, tidal ranges are reduced

So like. I don't think I need to point out the moon's distance from the sun and its effects here. Now let me go to something else: Touka and Nemu have a dual unit, the attribute of which is darkness. Here's a tidbit about it that I yoinked from another post:

Your pupils contract in response to visible light, but not all of the sun’s light is visible. During an eclipse, your pupils widen because it’s dark, but there’s an outer layer around the sun that mostly only puts out light that’s not visible to us, but that can still damage your retinas. Thus, looking at an eclipse makes your pupils open up like it’s dark, which lets more of the invisible damage beams in. The sun doesn’t get a critical multiplier on its damage when HP is low. Equipping the moon gives the sun a bonus to backstab.

And then I pointed out the dual unit and its attribute, like an eclipse. Such an apt metaphor. Now, this isn't all, though the astronomy rant is far less connected and organized than the other more essay-ish posts, but I just wanted to cover at least some of the bond things before I yell about why each of them fits their assigned astral body/time so well. Actually... Let's consider the solar wind for a second.

So, for those with less astronomy knowledge, here are the basics. The sun releases a continuous outflow of particles and radiation that we call the solar wind. The solar wind washes over the planets, moons and other bodies in our solar system, and every object, planet or person traveling through space has to contend with this. Our moon in particular has the scars (or bad tan) to prove it. Ever wondered what gives the moon that distinctive pattern of darker and lighter swirls? That would be the sun over there. Or, well, research suggests that the solar wind and the moon’s crustal magnetic fields (bubbles of "sunscreen") work together to give that pattern. See, here on Earth, we’re largely protected from the damaging effects of the solar wind, because it's magnetized, therefore Earth’s natural magnetic field deflects the solar wind particles around our planet so that only a small fraction of them reach our planet’s atmosphere. The moon however has no global magnetic field. It's magnetized rocks near the lunar surface that create those small, localized spots of magnetic field that I referred to as "bubbles of sunscreen" up there, because they kinda are acting like sunscreen by deflecting solar wind particles on a much smaller scale than Earth’s magnetic field. The surface of the moon isn't really made of "just rock" (it's called regolith, actually), and so as those particles flow toward the moon, they are deflected to the areas just around the magnetic bubbles, where chemical reactions with the regolith darken the surface. And there is Something To Be Said about this, something intimate about it... Something something accepting every part of someone else, something something being permanently marked and irreversibly changed by another (I've called them twin flames before)...

Here are some points to consider, particularly for Nemu:

They spend more time under the light of day (Touka, early riser, "rise with the sun" is very likely literal for her since she gets up long enough before school time to have more than enough time to do Things as per her quotes) vs awake at night (Nemu habitually staying up late to read and write, we have many lines about it particularly from the quotes, and a visual from the anime).

Nemu has been depicted dramatically in front of the moon twice, once in her intro in Arc 1 Chapter 7 and once in the anime, I believe final season's first episode? The flashback, right after they put Ui in Mokyu and have the whole exchange about it on the roof of the hospital.

In relation to the phases of the moon: as the moon goes around the Earth, different parts of it are illuminated by the sun, and we see a different amount of light reflected back at us, and I have decided that relates to how Nemu adapts seamlessly to whatever Touka's mood is because she just knows her that well (gestures vaguely at that sunset scene in Touka's MGS or any of the other times when Nemu knows it's not the right time to take a jab at Touka and so on and so forth), but honestly there's a huge number of gay interpretations of it. AND it's accurate to the way Nemu acts as a Magius, kind of, when it comes to the Feathers at least. People normally remember her as the Magius who was kindest to the Feathers (full moon, brightest guiding light), but she was also the one doing the brainwashing, giving the massacre orders, and delighting over her suggestion of using the Feathers as a shield (new moon, known as the dark side).

Feelings of being neglected/ignored/not noticed by passersby or people around her could be related to how the new moon is, literally Not Visible™️ to the naked eye except when it is silhouetted against the sun during a solar eclipse (COUGH). Plus, you could argue the fact that people love Nemu most when she's giving them something (light, full moon).

In terms of giving, let's hop over to Touka for a second:

The sun is constantly giving off energy. Light, heat, life. It's quite impossible to forget the sun is there, unlike the moon (or well it's more like you always sort of actively notice the sun, but not the moon due to its subtler presence). Aligns pretty well with Touka's.......... everything. Including the compulsion to take center stage. There is nothing else in the sky besides the sun during the day, it is alone in the heavens save for the subtle presence of the moon, which nobody else notices.

Then there's this post which I will quote here:

Big fan of sun motifs in characters not necessarily being about positivity and happiness and how they're so "bright and warm" but instead being about fucking brutal they are. Radiant. A FORCE of nature that will turn you to ash. That warmth that burns so hot it feels like ice. Piercing yellow and red and white. A character being a Sun because you cannot challenge a Sun without burning alive or taking everything down with them if victorious.

ALIGNS PRETTY WELL WITH TOUKA DOESN'T IT. Almost a little bit too literal in some senses! Being bright and warm does apply to her as well, mind you, she's bright in the intelligent sense and to some extent the temperament sense (though she is a lot less bright than she pretends to be with the very eerie cheerful mask she likes to wear), and she's warm and nurturing towards the people she cares about. Speaking of warm and nurturing, the sunlight makes plants grow, Nemu is a forest attribute in-game and has forest magic, nurtured by the fire of the sun (Touka, a flame attribute magical girl with the corresponding fire magic).

I've compared these two to binary stars in a fic before, but I really love their sun/day and moon/night possibilities! You can even interpret a few things like this:

Under a scorching sun, you are blinded, and in deserts caused by its rays you are likely to experience hallucinations, mirages. I can relate this to Touka's mask-wearing habits, for example. The sun is unyielding and you will never escape its effects completely no matter how hard you try. It's what allows life to exist and simultaneously also a force of destruction, much like fire itself. I could go on a related rant about how TouNemu's attributes really really fit them- I will stop myself before I do however.

Back to Nemu's side of things again. The night is often considered the most dangerous time of day pretty much everywhere around the world, but that's not quite right. It's because the night is obscured in darkness, quiet, secretive. You cannot know the night. It's fully possible that something will jump out at you at any point (assuming you're out and about), and you can never be 100% sure that nothing will. You have a higher chance of slipping, and good god if you've ever been outside in bumfuck nowhere with no lights around in the mountains or something on a new moon, you know very well how difficult navigation becomes without the moon's guidance

But, the night, especially in the East, is often considered shelter as well (from what I've gathered). The quietness aspect is retained over there, but it's seen in a more positive light, and the different attributes of the nighttime are more appreciated and respected compared to the West, in my experience digging into stuff at least. The night can easily be what soothes people after enduring the flames of the day. Whether literally because of the heat or just because for most people, daytime is work time, it's Getting Things Done time. Nighttime has always been more… for the self, to relax and to think. More intimate. Humans don't really work according to nature these days, but pieces of it are still present in how the night remains much quieter than the day, in how a teenager might feel safer, more raw and more connected with their true self in the dead of night on their phone under the covers than at any other time of the day, etc. It's a time of rest for a majority of living beings. Slower and less hectic than the daytime.

"What about those who are up at ungodly hours of the night still having hours-long conversations?" That's meaningful. It's necessary for the human mind, for our hearts. That's rest. It constitutes a "shelter" for the people in question. Those convos I'd bet are not about work or about stressors in their lives, but rather about things they find genuinely interesting and/or things they love. Or, alternatively, venting, yes, but even that counts as "unwinding" and reaching something closer to peace.

There's also something to be said about how Touka relies on Nemu so often (she says as much in her regular Tap 8 quote), and looks to her for guidance like the sailors of old looked up at the night sky for directions. Nemu is drawn to Touka like the moon is affected by the sun's gravity, and Touka loves her and studies her (she REALLY pays attention to Nemu, as I've pointed out before) like humans have always studied and observed the night sky.

AND also Touka = lantern, light. Nemu = sleep. Just saying.

COUGH. Yes. So. This has been my series of thoughts on TouNemu astronomy lesbianism. I'm pretty sure you can see how each point relates to the characters pretty clearly.

[dameronology]

fade into you (steve harrington)

a.k.a the one where steve comes to get his stuff (x)

warnings: this is pure angst. no happiness here guys. also mentions of alcohol.

enjoy this very very very short one lads i hope it tides you over until the last part of timing is a bitch comes out <3

-jazz xx

Setting an alarm in New York City was pointless when you were woken up at dawn every morning by the traffic.

Beeping from cars, bells from bicycles, the angry yells of morning commuters queuing at the street cart below your apartment for their morning coffee. It was like clock-work. Side characters in your life pulling you from your sleep, reminding you that alone time in this city was something so rare and so equally craved. Especially this morning, when you'd woken to pink skies and a cool breeze and the world's worst fucking hangover. It had taken you a second to remember; a second of pure bliss before you felt a hammer to your head and made eye contact with Captain Morgan on the front of the bottle of rum strewn a few feet ahead of you.

Beside it? A note.

Thanks for last night. Call me.

Tossing it aside, you traipsed across the living room to the toilet, picking up random items of clothing as you did. A pair of cycling shorts, a previously-yellow-but-now-faded Hawkins High jumper about six sizes too big. The bright lights of the bathroom were less than welcoming, like someone was shining a flashlight brighter than the harshness of reality right into your sore, hungover eyes. Hands fumbling and cabinet clanging open, you produced a bottle of Advil and welcomed it with open arms. Hangovers sucked. Almost as much as life had in recent days.

Now, with painkillers acquired, you fumbled back to your living room. Your answering machine was lighting up - brilliant. You'd forgotten to call your mum back and there was no doubt she'd left a lovely message for you. Reaching across, you pressed the play button and mentally prepared yourself.

"Hey...uh. Hi. Yeah. It's Steve. I hope you're doing well. I don't know if you remember but I called last week and you said I could come grab my stuff today. I'll come by and my way to work just before eight. Let me know if that's too early. See you soon."

You let out a groan, and then a louder one when you realised it was 7:55AM. Needless to say, five singular minutes was not enough time to prepare yourself to see your ex. The same ex who you still loved, by the way, and the same ex that had been the reason you'd gotten drunk last night in pursuit of a one night stand to numb the pain.

Steve Harrington had been your high school sweetheart. You'd gotten together in junior year and against all odds - of which there had been many in Hawkins - you'd managed to make it into your early twenties together. Unfortunately, as it often goes, life happened. Work and stress and all the joys that came with being an adult and no matter how hard you and Steve tried to cling onto each other, it felt like the universe was against you. So, you bid each other farewell and he'd moved three blocks over.

That had been two months ago. It had taken him until now to even think about getting his stuff. You could have done with more time, but now all his remaining belongings were piled neatly into a cardboard box by your front door. All the photos you had together - graduation, your last homecoming, your first trip to New York before you moved here - were tucked away in the back of your wardrobe. Neither of you had wanted custody of those. Not yet.

The buzzer rang at exactly 8:03, true to Steve fashion. On time, but still somehow later than promised. He probably spent a good ten minutes stood outside your apartment building debating if he really needed his yearbook, or the one formal shirt that he owned. What he needed was you...for you to forgive him, for him to forgive you, for you two to work this the fuck out. But, what you both needed above all those things, was time. Time and space and the chance to exist outside of the relationship that had defined you for the better part of a decade.

Hopping off the sofa, you pressed the buzzer.

"Hey, it's me," Steve's voice came through.

"Yeah, come on up."

He was at the door a moment later, a sight for sore eyes. Hair slightly disheveled from the windy New York winter and a red nose to match. He was dressed for work - even then, not that formally - and wore the round rimmed glasses that it had taken you four years to convince him that he needed. Steve gave you a smile when your eyes met.

"Hi," you gave him an equally nervous smile, stepping aside. "Come in."

"Thanks," he said. "Sorry for dropping by so early-"

"- no, it's fine honestly," you cut him off. "You did tell me last week and last night and...I forgot. That's sort of why I'm dressed the way I am."

Steve raised his eyebrows. "Isn't that my jumper?"

"Oh shit, yeah, sorry I just grabbed it," your eyes widened. "I can get changed. Just give me two seconds."

"No, it's fine," he laughed. "You can keep it. It's basically yours now anyways."

You both walked further into the apartment. Steve glanced around, trying to ignore the pang of nostalgia in his chest. This had been his place too at one point but, ever the gentleman, he'd insisted on being the one to move. Even if his new place felt bare, almost as bare this one without your photos hanging up and his shoes strewn all over the place as they has been the last five years. He raised his eyebrows at the empty bottle of rum, leaning down to pick it up and the note beside it.

"Big night?" he asked.

"Uh...yeah," you replied. "Sorry...again. You weren't meant to find that."

"No, it's okay," Steve shrugged. "We broke up. You can do what you want."

"Yeah, but if I came to your apartment and found a note from a one night stand I would be pretty gutted."

He smiled a little. "You would?"

"Don't be a dumb-ass, Steve."

"I think I am ever the dumb-ass. Especially lately, because..." Steve began, but then stopped. "Do you think we could have tried harder?"

You glanced around the room, and then at him. "Yeah. Maybe, but I don't know. I think we just have to accept it for what it is, you know?"

You didn't want to accept it. You didn't want to accept that this was it; that all you had left of the man you loved was a stupid yellow jumper, that you clung onto the faint smell of his aftershave for all it was worth and that last week, you'd hidden behind a turnstile when you saw him on the F-Train. And that now, he was stood in his apartment with his box of things and as soon as he left, this whole thing would really be over. You'd spent a third of your life loving him and that was supposed to be a number that grew with you; that third would become a half, and then more than that, and then you were meant to be old and having spent most your life loving him. Now, it would stay at just that. Those seven years would forever be there but the amount of time you spent loving each other would grow smaller as the years went. Soon, it would be nothing but a drop of water against an ocean of time. An ocean that felt like it might truly and wholly drown you.

Steve nodded. "Yeah."

There was another moment of silence. It felt hesitant, like you both wanted to say something. You definitely did - you just didn't know what. There had been a lot of feelings and aches bubbling under the surface the last few weeks but you were worried that if you tried to articulate them, it would just come out as word vomit. Or actual vomit, because your hangover was still there, only it was worst now because yeah, you had your hangover from last night but now, you had your hangover from the end of a seven year relationship. Advil was good fora headache but it couldn't fix heartbreak. There was only one cure for that, but he was about to leave because he was late for work.

"I should get going," Steve announced.

"Yeah, no worries. All your stuff's by the door," you replied.

He turned around and began towards the door, but then stopped and turned back to face you. There was another moment, another beat, before Steve opened his arms to you. You fell into them without hesitation, arms wrapping around his waist and head burying in his neck. You let him overwhelm your senses for just a second longer.

"I miss you," he said.

"I miss you too," you replied. 'Are you sure you don't want your jumper back?"

"No," he shook his head. "It means I have a reason to come back once more if you keep it."

[sheikzine]

“When was the last time you could relax like this, Hero?” (2/5)

During the applications period, we'll be posting a part of a Sheik fic every week, written by our writing mod! Click here for part one

Applications will remain open until May 9th, 11.59pm PST

“When was the last time you could relax like this, Hero?”

Link opened his eyes—when had they closed?—and glanced over at the Sheikah and their expectant expression. When he looked back up at the sky, he raised his arms and slipped them beneath his head, fingers absentmindedly brushing at his hair.

“Probably since the night before I met Navi,” Link said. Just as the glowing blue fairy in question hovered over the log she sat on, Link shot her a grin and added, “No offense, Navi.”

“No, no,” she said, fluttering over to him and settling on his chest over the lapel of his tunic. “I understand. There’s been a lot to take in, and with it being so dangerous out… and without the Great Deku Tree…”

Silence settled once again, but not for long; enough for Link’s eyes to shimmer over with tears and Navi’s light to dim. Navi moved over to Link’s throat, pushing her way underneath the collar of his undershirt as she settled beneath his chin. He pulled one arm out from under his head to adjust his collar, pulling it over her more, before blinking away the tears and heaving a sigh.

“It still doesn’t feel real,” He said after a particularly hard swallow. “It’s been… how long now, Navi?”

“A little over a year,” she said tearfully.

“Right,” He said, resisting the urge to nod. “To the two of us, anyway. It feels like just yesterday, I was begging him for a fairy, and Hyrule was only a dream.”

“The flow of time is always cruel,” Sheik recited. When Link looked back at the other, they were working on the wraps around their hands, likely unsatisfied. It was always when Link spoke of the Great Deku Tree that Sheik recited those lines—the wisdom they had passed along when the two first met—but rather than finish it this time, the Sheikah seemed to have other ideas. “Death is painful in every situation of life. While it is terrible, what we must take care to remember instead is life. The Great Deku Tree lived a long, long life before he died; it is best to reflect on what he lived through, rather than what he did not.”

Some rustling interrupted the two, but while Link’s head snapped to his left to look towards the source, Sheik seemed unfazed. They continued speaking, as if they had no reason to care–and slowly, Link did his best to relax once more, though his guard was raised. “Memories of joy and love are more powerful than those of hate and sadness. Love can turn the tide of armies. Tell me, Hero; do you think, if you had your own army, that one who hated you would listen to you better than one who loved you?”

… Sometimes, Sheik’s questions were a little too complicated for Link. It seemed as soon as the words entered his mind, he had lost them to the wind, and all he could think of were his choices. So he stared at the bush that had rustled a minute before, puzzled, before finally tearing his gaze away to look at Sheik instead.

“I think an army that loved me would treat me better,” He said, hoping he had answered the question. “After all, you—”

Another rustle, and this time Link couldn’t help but spring into a sitting position, his right hand flying up to settle over Navi while his left grabbed at the handle of his sword. Yet while usually Sheik would have been gone already, either to tend to the threat themselves or give Link space to deal with it, instead the Sheikah set a hand on Link’s knee and made a shushing noise.

“Tis just a creature,” they mumbled. “Give it a moment… and… ah, there it is.”

… nothing came out of the bush. Link stared long and hard, waiting for any movement, and just as he was about to turn to Sheik to ask what in the Great Deku Tree’s name they were talking about, he saw it.

[naushtheaspiringauthor]

~Child Of The Storm~

Nikolai Lantsov x OC

Image by - @brokendreamtale2

Warnings- The Darkling threatening Alina and Mal and attacking the Sea Whip (i don't know if that counts but just to be sure)

A/N- Let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist!

Taglist- @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @sirisuorionblack @nadeleine123n

Ch-18~The Slaughter~

The next week was spent with Anaya giving directions to Sturmhond and some of his crew members. She would notice the Darkling having someone keep an eye on her or either do it himself, he didn't trust her to be alone with the boy's crew.  

After a few days, they finally had sightings of the first ice slopes. They passed through two slate stone islands, which Anaya recognized from her parent's map. 

Yet she had now started to face numerous difficulties, as she could not remember the way further. 

The Darkling approached her as she attempted to draw a map from her memory. "Why have you not led the way forward yet? " he hissed

"I don't even have a map, all I'm using is my memory" She abandoned her work and turned to him

"If you had a map then you wouldn't have been alive by now"

"I am fully aware of that. I'm attempting to remember the way forward but I'm unable to figure out whether we should follow the eastern or the western tides"

The Darkling did not respond and began to think of something, and then left Anaya's side abruptly. 

She was still trying to figure out the solution to her problem when she heard Alina's voice coming from the Darkling's cabin. She slowly stepped nearer to get a view of what had been happening. 

She saw Mal standing away from her and The Darkling threatening to peel her skin off if he would not help him.

Suddenly, Sturmhond stepped forward. “I won’t have a girl tortured on my ship,” he said. The Darkling turned his cold gaze on the pirate “You work for me, Sturmhond. You’ll do your job or getting paid will be the least of your worries.” An eery silence spread over the ship. Sturmhond’s crew moved closer to the Grisha with rather unfriendly expressions. Genya had a hand pressed over her mouth, but she did not say a word. Rabeah exchanged a concerned glance with Anaya but chose to remain silent.  “Give the tracker some time,” Sturmhond said quietly. “A week. At least few days.”

The Darkling slid his fingers up the girl's arm, pushing back her sleeve tor reveal bare white flesh. “Shall I start with her arm?” he asked. He dropped the sleeve, then brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “Or with her face?”He nodded to Ivan. “Hold her.”

Ivan clasped the back of the girl's head. The Darkling lifted the knife. She attempted to free herself back, but Ivan held her within his grasp. The blade met her cheek. “Stop!” Mal shouted. The Darkling waited. “I … I can do it.” “Mal, no,” Alina pleaded to the boy Mal swallowed and said, “Tack southwest. Back the way we came.” The Darkling cocked his head to one side and studied him. “I think you know better than to play games with me, tracker.” Mal gave a sharp nod. “I can do it. I can find it. Just … just give me time" he reasoned

"Fine. Assist her" The Darkling's gaze sharply turned to Anaya who had been standing in a corner. Everyone turned to look at her but none spoke a word. 

Mal nodded.

..............................................................................................

An eery silence had spread over the ship. The grisha whispered among each other and Sturmhond's crew grew restless as they made slow progress through the waters of the Bone Road. Mal was always kept guarded and wouldn't be allowed away from the Darkling's sight. The only conversations he and Anaya would have, would be related to the voyage, apart from that they would just be standing in silence or giving directions to Sturmhond. 

Mal wasn't allowed to speak to Alina but the Darkling would lead her across the deck near the boy's sight as some prized possession.

On the sixth day, Anaya was restlessly looking over the thick blankets of mist when she noticed something in the waters something similar to the sketches made by her mother. That was when she noticed the newly emerging wave in the water, it was moving.

"Mal!" She called out to the boy. "Look" She pointed towards the waves

The sight of the waves made him widen his yes. He called out to Sturmhond who then gave orders to his crew to move towards it. The Darkling approached them, “I think we’re close" Mal said to him

"You think?" He raised an eyebrow

"We've made this far, why not believe our words for once?" Anaya spoke

He looked at her and then nodded to Sturmhond. 

“Trim the sails,” the captain ordered

Just as his crew began to follow his orders, 

Ivan tapped the Darkling’s shoulder and gestured to the southern horizon. “A ship, moi soverenyi.” he said

Anaya narrowed her eyebrows and attempted to get a view of the ship when she saw a tiny vessel moving through the mist.

“Are they flying colors?” the Darkling asked Sturmhond. “Probably fishermen,” the boy responded. “But we’ll keep an eye on her just in case.” He signalled to one of his crewmen, who went scurrying up the main royal with a long glass in hand.

The longboats were prepared and, in minutes, they were being lowered over the starboard side, loaded with Sturmhond’s men and bristling with harpoons. The Darkling’s Grisha crowded by the rail to view the boats’ progress. The mist seemed to magnify the steady slap of the oars against the waves.

Anaya's breath began to grow faster as the boats inched closer. She had led them to do the very thing she'd been told never to allow happen. But she again thought of what was at stake, her friends, all the people back at Os Alta. She knew she could not stop this from happening, but if the Sun Summoner would be stronger then they might have a chance of defeating the Darkling. 

She saw Alina talking to Mal in hushed whispers, if there was still any hope for Ravka, it was the girl. Anaya had no other option but to take that chance.

A cry rang out from the crew “Two points off the starboard bow!”

Anaya turned to look in the direction.  Her heart sank deep in her chest when she noticed something moving in the mist, a shimmering, undulating white shape.

“Saints,” Mal breathed.

At that moment, the creature’s back breached the waves, its body cutting through the water in a sinuous arch, rainbows sparking off the iridescent scales on its back. Rusalye.

It was magnificent. It's body gleamed as it passed through the waters. Rusalye, the Sea Whip, the creature that cost Arthur Merkov and Virena Nasrazeen their lives. The ruler of the waters, the ice dragon, that was now to be slain heartlessly.

A shout from the longboats pulled Anaya out of her thoughts. A man on the boat nearest the sea whip stood up, a harpoon in his hand, taking aim. But the dragon’s white tail lashed through the sea, split the waves, and came down with a slap, sending a rolling wall of water up against the boat’s hull. The man with the harpoon sat down hard as the longboat tipped precariously, then righted itself at the last moment. A part of her wished for it to fight them, not allow them to kill it. Then the other boat let fly their harpoons. The first went wide and splashed harmlessly in the water. The second lodged in the sea whip’s hide.

It bucked, tail whipping back and forth, then reared up like a snake, hurling its body out of the water. For a moment, it hung suspended in the air, translucent wing-like fins, gleaming scales, and wrathful red eyes. Beads of water flew from its mane and its massive jaws opened, revealing a pink tongue and rows of gleaming teeth. It came down on the nearest boat with a loud crash of splintering wood. The slender craft split in two, and men poured into the sea. The dragon’s maw snapped closed over a sailor’s legs and he vanished his screams echoing beneath the waves. With furious strokes, the rest of the crewmen swam through the bloodstained water, making for the remaining longboat, where they were hauled over the side.

Another harpoon found its target and the sea whip began to cry, a tragic melody more lovely than anything. Anaya could hear the pain, the helplessness in its voice. She briefly closed her eyes, taking in the sweet voice. The sea whip was writhing and rolling in the waves as the longboats gave chase, struggling to shake the hooked tips of the harpoons free.

Anaya wished for it to fight back, to flee from their grasp, but she could already see the dragon slowing, its movements growing sluggish as its cries echoed and then began to fade. “Nets!” shouted Sturmhond. But the mist had grown so thick that she failed to see where his voice was coming from. A series of loud sounds can me be heard on the starboard trail “Clear the mist,” the Darkling ordered . “We’re losing the longboat.” The Grisha began calling to one another and Anaya felt the billow of Squaller winds tugging on her. The mist finally lifted and she saw The Darkling and his Grisha still standing on the starboard side,  their attention focused on the longboat that now seemed to be rowing away from the whaler. But on the port side, another ship had appeared from nowhere, a sleek schooner with gleaming masts and colours flying: a red dog on a teal field and below it, in pale blue and gold, the Ravkan double eagle.

[msclaritea]

Kevin Costner & Morgan Freeman ‘The Gray House’ SAG-AFTRA Agreement – Deadline

Kevin Costner & Morgan Freeman-Produced Civil War Spy Series ‘The Gray House’ Lands SAG-AFTRA Interim Agreement

By Peter White

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July 24, 2023 1:52pm

Kevin Costner, Morgan FreemanCourtesy/Nigel Parry

The Gray House, a Civil War spy drama series that is being produced by Kevin Costner and Morgan Freeman, is the latest high-profile project to land an interim agreement from SAG-AFTRA.

The project managed to secure an interim agreement – by which the producers agree to the terms of the guild’s last counter-offer to the AMPTP – despite having international distribution through Paramount Global.

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The actors guild has now handed out over 60 interim agreements to movies and series since the walkout earlier this month. Apple TV+’s Tehran became the most high-profile series to land one, after films such as The Watchers, which has involvement from Warner Bros. Discovery’s New Line, were also added to the list as well as Glenn Close’s The Summer Book and A24 films Mother Mary and I Dream Of Unicorns.

11 Fresh Nike Summer Shoes for Women to Shop This Season

Paramount Global Content Distribution, which is run by Dan Cohen, is set to distribute six-part series The Gray House, which does not currently have a U.S. network or streamer attached.

The Gray House tells the story of the three women General Ulysses S. Grant credited as helping the North win the Civil War. It focuses on the unsung women who turned the tide of the American Civil War in favor of the North. A Richmond Socialite and her daughter, a formerly enslaved African-American, and a courtesan build the first successful female spy ring, operating right under the noses of the Confederate High Command. They risk life and liberty to help win the war and preserve American Democracy.

The series is based on an original script by Leslie Greif and Darrell Fetty, and Oscar-nominated John Sayles. Oscar-nominated Roland Joffe is directing.

The series has been filming in Eastern Europe.

Costner is exec producing via his Territory Pictures banner with Rod Lake and Howard Kaplan producing. Freeman is producing alongside his producing partner Lori McCreary via their Revelations Entertainment shingle and Greif is producing via his Big Dreams Entertainment alongside Alex Kerr.

Who gets an interim agreement is a complicated question, particularly as some of these projects seem to have ties to AMPTP companies such as Paramount Global.

SAG-AFTRA National Executive Director and Chief Negotiator Duncan Crabtree-Ireland told Deadline, “It goes to reflect the complexity and the business relationships and structures in this industry.”  

He added, “If there are AMPTP connections to the project, then [waivers] won’t be [granted]. That’s the big-picture answer. Everyone needs to be investigated and evaluated individually because obviously the question of ‘Are there AMPTP fingerprints or connections to the project?’ is a very specific question. That means it takes a few days to a week depending on volume, maybe a little more for us to evaluate whether a project can receive an interim agreement.”

These people keep proving me right. I knew Fran Drescher could not be trusted and neither can her little minion Crabtree-Ireland. Some of these productions knew they could get away with this by filming in Europe and by the way, per Insider Hollywood, including many publications like Deadline and Variety lamenting back in 22 about 'a precious American Western being shot in New Zealand' what the fuck do I look like anticipating from two already wealthy actors and their European flavored Civil War drama? Screw Costner and Freeman for this.

I really feel a deep dread for the Hollywood workers striking. They might have been set up with AMPTP ringers on the SAG-AFTRA board.

[nehswritesstuffs]

Baratie: Home to Chefs, Strays, and the Occasional Sword Goblin - Part 6

So, this chapter was previously attached to the prior one, but it was getting long for what I generally want for these, so now it’s two!

First chapter on [tumblr] - [FFN] - [AO3]

Prior chapter on [tumblr] - [FFN] - [AO3]

It’s Dry Goods Run Day. [3272 words]

It was finally Dry Goods Run Day.

Unlike the frequent deliveries of perishables and tide-overs that the Baratie received from whatever traders were willing to sail to them, it was fairly standard to use the day they needed to restock on the restaurant’s shelf-stable items as a day off for most of the crew. The chefs, kitchen help, and waitstaff alike all relished in their ability to fuck the fuck off to places unknown for the day, making it so that the only ones really working were Sanji, Patty, and Carne as they hand-picked their spices and flours and dried grains and whatnot.

“Zoro-oji! Zoro-oji! What’s that?!”

...oh, yeah, Zoro was technically working too.

“It’s a balloon,” he said flatly, looking in the direction Asido was pointing. They were in the middle of the port’s market, where the boy was staring wide-eyed at anything and everything they came across. “Haven’t you ever seen a balloon, kid?”

“Not really…” the boy muttered. His green-haired adult exhaled heavily and picked the boy up, allowing him to bury his face in his shoulder. The kid ran his moods more lopsidedly than his shitty uncle, which honestly said more than the swordsman wanted to admit.

“Would you like one?” he asked.

“…no…”

“Well, if you change your mind, you know all you need to do is ask, okay?”

Asido nodded into his shoulder and Zoro tried not to sigh. Here he was: one of the greatest swordsmen alive, to have ever lived. He was one of the Pirate King’s Wings, for fuck’s sake, only to be reduced to the shit-cook’s babysitter for the past week. Was it two? Three? He really didn’t know anymore. It wasn’t the kid’s fault that his uncle was literally one of the most annoying fucks to exist on the seas, but that was neither there nor here. Then again, it wasn’t even as though it was entirely the shit-cook’s fault he was in this position—there was plenty of blame to be spread amongst a disturbing amount of other people, and none of them were in the port nor on the ship.

“Is there anything you’d like?” he asked.

“Mom…” the boy croaked.

“Well, it’s just me, so we’re going to have to make do.”

“Okay…” Asido mumbled into Zoro’s neck, clinging to him desperately. “Do you know when Mom’s coming back? I really miss her.”

“I’m sure she misses you too,” he replied. Zoro saw other groups of people as he wandered around, including families with kids. A little girl—about the sprout’s age, he guessed—bounced up and down as she waited for her dads to finish acquiring snacks from a stall, and it sent a pang through him. Words long-said rattled around in his head, making him hug the boy in his arms just a bit tighter.

You want to know why I never went to Totto Land? Because instead of just defeating them, I would have murdered everyone for taking you away from me.

They had been words whispered in the cook’s ear, hot and heavy as he had made a pass in their last remaining moments in Wano. He had been pushed away then, a rejection that was loud and clear, starting the agonizing path that led to their falling out. Now, by some cruel twist of fate, he was holding a child that looked like Sanji, as though they had rescued him from Totto Land after Luffy became Pirate King instead of before their siege of Wano. It was a kid that very easily could have come out of the Charlotte honey trap, or possibly even that dancer woman from Dressrosa… or…

What would he have done, if the blond showed up on the doorstep, a child in his arms and an apology on his lips?

Fuck… he really didn’t want to think of that now.

Finding a vendor that sold dorayaki, Zoro bought his charge a snack, taking the portable nature of the treat to his advantage as he continued to wander around the port market. While he was not able to find the way out of the market, he eventually ran into Sanji, who seemed more amiable than usual.

“Alright Marimo, you’re relieved,” he said. He reached for Asido and the boy willingly allowed himself to be passed, clinging to his uncle’s brightly-patterned shirt tightly. Sanji bounced the boy slightly and pressed a kiss to his hair before turning back to his crewmate. “Follow the street down to the docks and you’ll find the supply boat.”

“Sure,” the mossman grunted. He ruffled the kid’s hair before sulking off, leaving the pair alone.

“I don’t know if I like islands,” Asido frowned. Sanji chuckled at that as he began to stroll idly through the market—of all the things to be genetic.

“I don’t like them too much either,” he admitted. “We grew up on boats and ships, with water always under us. Islands aren’t like that, and I think we can tell a lot easier than other people.”

“Yeah.” The boy settled into his uncle’s shoulder, the top of his head wedging in the crook of the man’s neck, before sniffling, “I want Mom.”

“I want to give her to you, but you know I don’t know when she’ll be back,” he said. A storefront then caught his eye and he patted the boy’s arm. “Hey, there’s a clothing store over there. Let’s go ahead and get you some new stuff like I said we would.”

“’Cause I’m gonna grow soon, right?”

“Yup.”

“Well, I hope I don’t grow too much, or Mom might not recognize me.”

Deciding to not touch that, Sanji took his nephew into the clothing store, glad when the prospect of curiously new things distracted Asido from his doldrums. They were able to find several new sets of clothes for the boy, as well as a couple jackets and pairs of shoes, some pajamas, slippers, and a bathrobe that was comically big on him.

“Can I get a robe like Zoro-oji?” Asido asked as he flapped the sleeves of his new bathrobe. Sanji peeled the garment off the lad and handed it to the clerk.

“That’s a special kind of robe—you’d have to ask him,” he replied. Asido then shrugged and bounced off to look at a display of girls’ clothes while the two adults sorted everything.

“He certainly is full of curiosity,” the clerk chuckled. Sanji rolled his eyes.

“He’s not used to dry land, so I’m just glad he’s distracted,” he admitted. “Oh, no, wait, not this one; I’m going to pretend you forgot to ring it when we’re two days out.”

“I’ll gladly play the villain if that’s the case,” the clerk said. They stashed the t-shirt with a Sora, Warrior of the Sea logo across the front out of sight and continued folding the rest. “Your son a fan of the comic?”

“Something like that.” Sanji checked on Asido from where he was standing and frowned. “Azuki bean, is this you telling me you want one?”

“No…” the boy replied from the dresses.

“Then why are you still over there?”

“I was thinking about if Merry might like these.” He picked one off the rack and held it high. “This one would look nice on Lea, but weird on Montie! Why is that?”

“We’re here to shop for you, not your cousins.”

“Uncle Saaaaaanjiiiiii…!”

“Look, don’t touch,” the blond warned. The clerk stifled a snicker as Asido and Sanji sported matching scowls.

“My apologies,” they smirked. “That’s a strong family resemblance.”

“Eh; my sister and I could have been twins,” Sanji shrugged. “Didn’t correct you, did I?”

“True.” The clerk nodded deftly before tallying up the total. Money was exchanged and they started to bag it up. “Pardon me for prying,” Sanji raised his visible eyebrow, “but you might want to consider taking a catalog with you. If you’re at sea often, then it might be too long between ports before his next growth spurt, and the next one you’re at might not have a shop like ours.”

“I… don’t know how long I’ll have him…”

“We deliver most items by News Coo, and the packaging is plain, in case any of it ends up being a present or some other surprise,” the clerk continued, unfazed. “Kids are hard, especially ones you didn’t plan on.”

“How…?”

“You just came in and bought enough to fill a child-sized closet; you might be a natural with him, but it’s clear you just got him in a weird way.” They finished packing the two bags and placed the receipt in one and a goods catalog in the other. “He looks happy interacting with you, if it helps. His parents put him in good hands.”

“You must see a lot of people if you’re able to glean all that.”

“I work at one of the few dedicated children’s clothing stores in the area—a lot barely covers it.” They offered a polite smile as Sanji took the bags. “My apologies, again.”

“Eh, whatever,” Sanji muttered. He then looked at Asido again, who was still staring at the dresses. “Azuki bean! We’re leaving! What do you say?”

“Thank you for taking care of us!” the boy beamed as he joined his uncle. He waved at the clerk as they walked out, then proceeded to hold Sanji’s hand as they wandered the market. “Where do you think we can find clothes like Zoro-oji?”

“Why do you want to dress like Zoro-oji?”

“Well, he’s gonna teach me swords, right? So I got to have swords clothes!”

Sanji almost stopped walking entirely in order to process his nephew’s logic. “You know, people who fight with swords can wear anything they want. There’s no uniform you have to wear.”

“Really…?”

“Yeah; now let’s get back to the boat and make sure everything’s been delivered.”

“Okay!”

It didn’t take long to get to the supply boat at the wharf, where there was the unusually relief-laden sight of the marimo stomping onto the craft while Patty and Carne took inventory of everything that had been dropped off by varying vendors from around the port.

“This is a lot of shit, kid,” Carne mentioned as he tapped a pallet of flour with the end of his pen. “Sure you aren’t going by how much you need to feed that captain of yours?”

“I’m sure, you limp-dicked half-rate,” Sanji huffed, no venom to his voice. He helped Asido into the boat before bringing the bags on, putting them down next to some other bags and boxes he didn’t recognize. “What the fuck’s this?”

“Errands for our actual boss,” Patty sniped. “Just because he’s out of commission doesn’t mean he can’t have needs, nor that we should ignore them.”

“The idea that he’s having you take care of things instead of me only tells me that the geezer’s up to something,” Sanji frowned. He decided to wait until they were back at the Baratie to address whatever the fuck was going on, instead taking the opportunity to double-check his wares. Once everything was triple-checked and on the boat, they set off, heading back to the restaurant. They made it well before dinnertime, with Zoro helping Asido bring aboard the stuff for him and Zeff while the chefs all unloaded the restaurant’s supplies.

Bringing the dried goods aboard and sorting them all in their proper places was always a hassle, but once it was done, Sanji felt a great sense of accomplishment. He breathed a sigh of relief and decided to make something a little more involved for his family for dinner… and the Moss too… he guessed. An experimental curry, utilizing some spices he found on the island that caught his eye, though not too spicy so he could further gauge his nephew’s palate. He carefully made plenty of the stew and rice and left it in serving dishes, bringing everything up as such so that he could allow everyone to take what they wanted, while any leftover could be used as a staff snack the following day.

Opening the door to Zeff’s room with a gentle push of his hip, Sanji brought the meal into the room only to nearly drop it. There, he saw Asido sitting in one of the geezer’s armchairs, wrapped up in a blanket he could not remember while reading what looked like the fabled first collected volume of Sora, Warrior of the Sea. Zeff and Zoro were sitting at the table, both pains-in-his-ass stopping their conversation and looking at him nearly sheepishly as he stopped and stared.

“Oh! Uncle Sanji! Look what Grandpa Zeff got me!” Asido slid out of the chair and held up the book proudly. “It’s Sora! And a blanket! And some other stuffs!”

“Did he now…?” Sanji said, throwing a glare at his foster father. The old man refused to make eye contact, pretending that there was instead something vaguely interesting with his still-extant foot. “You can show me everything after dinner, alright?”

“Okay! Zoro-oji helped me unpack everything we bought today, so I can show you then!”

“He helped you unpack, eh?” Sanji asked, turning his attention to Zoro. The mosshead simply took his plate and began shoveling rice onto it, well-used to ignoring the death-stare the blond often threw him. “This is beginning to sound more and more like a couple someones might have broken rules while I was busy with dinner.”

“No big deal, twirls,” Zoro mumbled. “The kid’s allowed to be comfortable.”

“If you need me to say it, eggplant, the kid’s in what’s technically my house, and I say it’s fine,” Zeff mentioned. He saw as Asido was trying to fold his blanket on his own and chuckled. “We’ll take care of it later, azuki. Get over here and eat before your uncle has a coronary.”

“Okay!” the boy replied cheerily. He sat down at the table and stared at what Sanji was putting on his plate. “What’s that…?”

“Curry,” the blond replied.

“I thought curry is red and kinda soupy.”

“That’s how they like curries in the North—we’re not in the North Blue now,” Sanji explained. “This kind of curry style originated in a place called Wano, on the Grand Line. Zoro-oji and I went there a long time ago.”

“Okay, cool!” Asido took a giant chunk of potato and shoveled it in his mouth, only to spit it back onto the plate in tears. “Ow! Too hot!”

Sanji closed his eyes and tried not to grimace. Just… why…?

“At least you know he’s not picky,” Zeff chuckled. Sanji rolled his eyes and kept serving dinner—sure, he guessed.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

After dinner, Sanji went to go inspect his nephew’s room, finding that plenty had happened while he was occupied with cooking. The boy’s clothes were put away neatly, utilizing a level of organization that he did not think Asido or Mosshead were capable of coordinating. Books previously absent sat neatly in the bookshelf and some boxes sat in the corner, one suspiciously looking like flat-pack furniture.

“Old man said the kid needed a desk,” Zoro explained casually as he followed the blond in. “I’ll put it together tomorrow.”

“Can you even read the directions?” Sanji sniped.

“I’m not illiterate.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“Do you like my new books, Uncle Sanji?” Asido asked, reminding the men that the kid was still there. He looked at the now-full shelf, seeing that it was full of those damned Sora, Warrior of the Sea compilations. There were a few regular storybooks, but Sora was the bulk of the lot. “Mister Patty and Mister Carne helped Grandpa Zeff get the comics, and Zoro-oji got me the other ones!”

Sanji blinked. “He did…?”

“Yeah! And he got me these!” Asido dove into the corner of the closet and pulled out a pair of shinai, at which Sanji tried his best not to scowl. “He said that I need to be ready for when we start swords!”

“…which might be a while, remember?” Zoro replied, trying to cover up what was clearly supposed to be a secret. “Some people are never old enough to hold a weapon, let alone a sword.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I won’t!” the boy reasoned. “I can do flippy stuff and sword stuff!”

“Uh-huh, yeah, I’ll flip you right off the deck,” Sanji scoffed jokingly. He gave Asido a wink and the boy giggled. “Now go clean up your stuff in the geezer’s room, okay? You’re getting a bath tonight.”

“Zoro-oji doesn’t get baths!”

“Zoro-oji is also a barbarian, and we are not; now get going.” The two men watched the child dash from the room, giving them an opportunity alone. “You didn’t have to do any of this, mosshead.”

“I know.” He watched as Sanji took one of the books off the shelf and flipped through it. “That was, uh, the only one I actually remembered. The woman at the bookstore helped with the rest.”

“Of all things, ‘Noland the Liar’ is what you remembered?”

“Blame Usopp…?”

Sanji threw Zoro an unimpressed look. “You’re a goddamned moron, you know that?”

“I’m not the one who’s so wrapped up in his own trauma that he forgot that kids need stuff to do other than practice kicks and flips,” Zoro sniped.

“So getting him excited to become a potential new sword-moron is the answer?” Sanji hissed.

“I meant the books and you know it.”

“…and how did you come to that conclusion?”

“Kids like books…?”

“How would you know?!”

“I just do, alright?!”

“So you were into books? When you were a kid?”

“…no…”

“Then I’m not sure I want to know…” Sanji stopped when he saw Asido come back into the room with his new book and blanket, both of which he put on the bed. “That’s not where they go.”

“I wanna read more before bed!” the boy claimed. “I need my Reading Blanket to do that!”

“Okay, sure; say goodnight to Zoro-oji,” Sanji said quickly. Asido did and went over to the closet to pull out his new pajamas, giving his uncle just enough time to grit out a fake smile. “Good night, Marimo.”

“Night, Twirly-Brow.” Zoro shrugged in irritation before leaving, not really wanting to push the envelope with the kid right there. No sooner did he close the door behind him did Asido pop back at Sanji’s side, holding his pajamas high above his head.

“These?” the boy asked.

“If those are what you want, now come on.” Sanji attempted to lead his nephew into the bathroom, who was adamantly protesting, all the way down to kicking his feet once picked up. “You didn’t mind bathing before.”

“I don’t gotta take baths if Zoro-oji doesn’t!” the kid pouted. “It’s not fair!”

“Normal people bathe or shower regularly; if Zoro-oji wants to be gross and not bathe, then that’s on him. He’s an adult. You, however,” he sat Asido down on the toilet lid, “are still a kid. That means you’re still learning. Can’t break the rules unless you know them.”

“That’s dumb,” Asido scowled. “Baths are dumb.”

“Merry gets baths almost every day.”

“Zoro-oji says girls have to, though!”

Sanji shuddered at the very thought of Zoro having had a conversation with Asido about how much bathing is too much bathing. Fuck… gross…

“I shower every night, so don’t give me that nonsense,” he warned. “Now come on… you like lavender?” Asido nodded and Sanji began to draw the water, pouring in the bubble bath as the kid presumably got ready…

…only for him to turn around and find that he fled from the room.

Fucking hell.

[casspurrjoybell-17]

HEART'S FATE - CHAPTER 31

*Warning: Adult Content*   

Skylar West is good at many things but Martin Hunter appreciates some of his skills more than others. 

Skylar’s expertise with distraction and deflection for example, Martin could do without.

Every time the single dad tried to bring up what happened at the coast, the art teacher turns Martin’s attention to something else.

A kiss and like some Fairy-tale Prince caught in a spell, Martin forgets what it was he meant to say, a softly spoken word and the older man’s priorities shift.

At the same time, Martin can't help but feel that Skylar grows more distant day by day and by the time the weekend approaches again, it seems the younger man hardly has a moment to spare for him. 

Thursday morning, as Martin sees his four children off to school, he hugs himself as a brisk November breeze rattles the few remaining leaves still clinging to the skeletal branches of the trees. 

Winter will set in soon, locking the little mountain town in a cycle of snow and ice until the warm breath of spring breathes life into the land again. 

Thanksgiving approaches, Ambrose Thorne and Noah Hunter have offered to host it at their place, which is big enough to hold everyone and the winter holidays loom beyond. 

In the meantime, though, all Martin can think about is a phone call he hasn't yet received.

"You did say that he was rather old," Skylar points out distractedly when Martin brings the matter up for the fourteenth time. 

"Perhaps he simply forgot. You ought to give him a call and check into it."

Martin watches as Skylar packs more art supplies into a large duffel bag. 

"You're probably right," the older man says and sighs disconsolately, he doesn't imagine calling a doctor's office is on anyone's list of favorite things to do. "What are you packing for, anyway?"

"There's an art show this weekend down in Sacramento," he says. "Thought I'd go."

"Oh..." Martin rubs the back of his neck and glances around the cozy studio apartment which, a few weeks earlier, was nothing but a barren garage. 

"That sounds fun."

Skylar glances up at him. 

"I'd have invited you, but the children might find it rather boring."

"The children needn't be invited by default," Martin points out.

Skylar lifts a brow at him. 

"Would you leave them, though?"

Martin breaks eye contact and look away. 

"I know I'm a little overprotective. I don't want to hover but..." 

Rising, Skylar crosses the room and rests his hand on Martin’s shoulder. 

"I know. You've good reason to be protective. And I didn't mean it that way. It's only a short trip, far more business than pleasure. If it was the latter, I'd have you with me, for sure."

Martin nods, still not quite able to meet the younger man’s eyes and excuses himself as Skylar resumes packing.

                                                     ******

Martin decides to put off the call to Dr Howard, until the afternoon, when he had finished his work for the day but before the children get home and in the intervening time, he did his best to concentrate.

He nearly jumps out of his seat when his cell-phone rings around noon, narrowly avoiding a disastrous accident as he knock over his coffee cup and brown liquid spills across his desk like a tiny encroaching tide. 

Lifting his laptop to safety, he answer the call with a breathless. 

Hello?" 

He sags with relief as he hears his agent's voice on the other end of the line. 

"Hey, Martin. How are you?" she asks.

"Trish. Hi... um... good. It's good. I mean, I'm good," he says and cringes. 

His social skills are far from top tier, especially when unprepared. 

"What's up?"

"Good news," she says. 

"Sales of your last book are steady and your editor says you've got the next one in the bag. The publisher wants at least two more in this series, with a pretty good advance for your genre, if you can guarantee delivery in six months."

‘Two books in six months?’

He rubs his jaw. 

That used to be nothing, I could have done it in his sleep. 

Now, just the thought gives him heartburn.

"Two books?" he repeats. "Could you talk them down to one?"

"I tried, Martin," Trish says, suddenly sounding a lot more honest and a lot more tired. 

"You're not up and coming anymore, you've got a solid following and a reliable audience for your books but they wouldn't budge. It's a cutthroat business. For every established author, there are hundreds willing to work ten times as hard for a tenth of the pay. You know how it is."

He rolls his eyes. 

He does but it doesn't make it any better. 

In his head, he does a series of rapid calculations.

Things are different now. 

With Skylar's help, his family at his back and the weight of guilt and pain finally beginning to lift from his heart, Martin is in a place where he can say 'yes' to this without fearing it will kill me.

"Okay," he says, hearing the smile in his voice. 

"Tell them I'll do it."

"I'll send the contract over," she says, sounding relieved. 

"Read it carefully. There are some new stipulations I couldn't worm us out of but overall, I think it's fair... considering."

"Considering what?" he asks, made wary once more by her tone.

"Just... how long it took you to finish the last one," she says apologetically. 

"I've been on your editor's ass and I know she's been on yours and the publisher's been on mine. I'm sorry, Martin but this is a big deal, okay? It'll make or break you. Understand?"

Martin Hunter swallows. 

"Yeah. I understand, Trish. Thanks."

"Hey," she says, her tone warming. 

"You're my friend, Marty. I only want what's best for you, all right?"

"Yeah, me too," he says, his throat tightening at the nickname only his family use for him and ends the call.

                                                       ******

By 3:00 p.m., he’s sweating. 

Martin is both dying to know and afraid that knowing will end him but with an hour before the kids get home, he calls Dr. Braden Howard on the direct line the Doctor had given him. 

He answers after five rings, long enough to make Martin wonder if he'd been staring at his number and contemplating whether or not to pick up. 

"Dr. Braden Howard speaking," he says, as if he's answering on a two-piece receiver from eighty years ago and not the latest model iPhone Martin knows he has.

"Dr. Howard... it's Martin Hunter," I say. "Umm... I haven't gotten the results yet, and I was wondering..."

"Haven't gotten the results yet," he exclaims, so vehemently that I imagine him in black and white, clapping his hand to his forehead, like a scientist in a Mel Brooks parody. 

"I was sure I sent them along to you! Must have slipped my mind."

"Do you have them?" Martin asks.

"Have them? Of course I have them," the single dad hears papers rustling, followed by what sounds like glass breaking and Dr. Howard swearing under his breath.

Martin waits and at last, the Doctor is back on the line.

"Sorry about that, kid," he says, sounding slightly out of breath. "The truth is... Well, the truth is..."

"Doctor Howard, please," Martin says, breaking in. 

"Please, just tell me. I need to know. I mean... you understand, this is my life. My... everything."

The single dad shuts up as emotion tightens around his throat like a vice.

For a long moment, there's silence. 

Then, Dr. Howard sighs.

"Alright. You know what? Fuck it. I got good news and bad news, kid," he says. 

"Congratulations, or maybe consolations, I don't fucking know at this point. Either way, you're a father. 99% sure. Now, I know you're one of a set but your fellow triplets are fraternal, not identical, right? Even if one of them had fucked your wife, the results wouldn't be the same. Unless you got an evil twin somewhere, you're Nico and Rio's biological father, for sure.."

Martin covers his mouth to contain the sob that chokes him and then take a breath. 

"Okay, so what's the bad news?" he asks.

Doctor Howard sighs.

"That ex-wife of yours is something else, you know that? She paid me a visit. Threatened me. Told me to destroy the results or change my report. Fortunately, I'd sent everything off to the lab already, once it's out of my hands, it's official record. Nothing I can tamper with."

"Are you okay?" Martin asks him, anxiety triggering a slideshow of horrors to play through his mind.

Dr. Howard chuckles. 

"I'm eighty-seven years old, kid," he says, "And entirely human, despite my associations. She scared me, yeah. But what's she gonna threaten me with? Death?" he cackles. 

"I'm perfectly fine. It's you I'm concerned about. That bitch wasn't at all pleased when I sent her on her way, though. Best keep an eye on those sweet boys of yours. I got a bad feeling, if you know what I mean."

"Thank you, Doctor Howard," Martin says, resting his face in his palm and breathing a sigh. 

"I will. I'm sorry you were dragged into this."

"No worries, kid. I'll make sure the results are stored safely and get you a copy in the mail. Should be there in a day or two. Take care."

The doctor ends the call and Martin Hunter lets the phone fall from his hand and clatter to the floor as he drops to his knees.

The single dad doesn't know what to feel or what he’s feeling but what starts as quiet catches in his breath soon grows into deep, uncontrollable sobs as his mess of emotions overcome him like a sleeper wave, knocking him down and pulling him under hard.

And that's how Skylar West finds him, sometime later, curled in a ball on the kitchen floor. 

[cedarboughs]

Hiking Journal: The West Coast Trail

Day I: Trail Guardians

August 28

Woke early and packed up to be first in line at the Coastal Cafe, the only breakfast spot in Port Renfrew. Didn't have much time to look at the fun books and souvenirs. At 8:30 A.M. sharp the door opened and we were at the head of a fast-moving queue to get breakfast and lunch - a breakfast burrito (not as good as the ones in Bamfield) and a veggie sandwich to pack on the trail. Plus, I'm a sucker for specialty drinks with localized names, so I had to get a Port Renfrew Fog (lavender earl grey latte.)

It was a shorter bus ride from town back to the Pacheedaht campground for (actual) orientation. So far most of the trail experience had been a matter of waiting for things, and here we waited again.

There was a burger shack across the street from the campground called "Don't Pannock We Got Bannock." It wasn't open but I just thought that was worth noting.

While we waited we chatted with an older guy named R—-. He wasn’t doing the Trail right then, rather waiting on family to arrive coming southbound. But he had hiked the Trail four times and shuttled people more than that. He told us that the last time he’d been there in Pacheedaht, he’d heard the best description of the trail from trekkers coming off. “‘That’s not a hiking trail, it’s a fucking obstacle course!’ they’d said. They got it right. It’s a seventy-five-kilometre fucking obstacle course.��

I don’t think we appreciated the warning at the time.

Orientation led the starting group through notes to scrawl in my all-important trail map and tide chart. A cheer went up when it was announced that the fire ban— nationwide since the start of this hot, dry summer— would lift at noon. Blisters and Bliss, the Bible of the West Coast Trail, told much about the joys of beachwood fires. So does modern folk music.

“The Old Shenandoah gonna keep me right / and hold me like I was forgiven / take me down and let the beachwood alight…”

“Holding on close / holding onto / any kind of ring I can bring you / And at the beachwood pyre good news / it’s wet but it’s catching easy”

A Pacheedaht trail guardian ferried the group across the wide Gordon River in a Normandy-style landing craft. Two herons alit on an island. On a branch right at the trailhead, a bald eagle watched over the entrance. All these birds seemed to me like trail guardians too. The ferryman extended and dropped his ramp onto the gravel bank, and with a hop to shore, the trek began—

— Vertically! The ladders are famous, but this first one was exactly vertical, so that your pack feels like its weight is pulling you into open air.

The trail in the woods travels through ferns and salal- and through, over, and under huge old-growth Sitka spruce and red cedars. My favourite! My namesake on this blog!

But there’s little time to look way, way up at the trees when you must always be looking down to navigate the step-by-step maze of high, ankle-breaking root holes, which if you’re lucky for a particular metre, can serve as steps over huge logs— logs either crossing and blocking the path, or just barely serving as bridges over steep gorges. Sometimes there are “board”“walks”. Both parts of that compound word are euphemistic. Few boards remain, and there are very few spots where the remaining piles of scrap wood can be simply walked across. So scrapdances, or scrapsquelches, might be more accurate. Everything is also mud. The good part about the mud is that it's home to giant yellow banana slugs. The bad part is it's awful to trudge through and pick footfalls around.

We stopped after a few kilometres, which took much longer than anyone could reasonably expect, to eat our Coastal Cafe lunches by the remains of a huge rusted-out logging engine.

This was where we first chatted with F——- and S——-, who became steady trail friends over the next week. She’s a pretty blonde Irish nurse living in Vancouver. He’s a strapping Canadian. We first met him trying to literally tape his insulin monitor back into his arm beside this hulk of a steam engine, so that’s a bonding moment. The hardship of the trail makes comrades of all.

It’s a hard side km down to the first camp at Thrasher Cove. More ladders!

But I was still feeling good about the trip as we pitched camp in the trees just hidden away from the beach. A two-masted sailing ship anchored in the cove for the night, which added a wonderful touch of piratical fantasy to camping by the sea. Though really we were still on the edge of Port San Juan, facing Port Renfrew across the sound, not the international span of the Strait of Juan de Fuca, let alone the true open Pacific.

I was feeling not very social - tired, and embarrassed to be hiking with parents - but all the same I went to stand in a circle around a communal firepit, and that was nice. No sunset that night. It was hidden by the cliffs still ahead.

[snakezz]

Fragile - Short Story

Preamble: Friendships often feel eternal, anchored by shared memories and mutual understanding. Yet, life’s unpredictable currents can lead to unexpected transformations. This story explores the evolving dynamics between three inseparable friends Selena, Aiden, and Miguel whose bonds are tested by new relationships and unforeseen betrayals.

Friendships, much like the tides, are ever-changing and unpredictable. While research suggests that personality traits can remain consistent over time, it also acknowledges that change is inevitable. The real question is, can we accept the changes when they come?

Selena, Aiden, and Miguel had been inseparable since high school. After their major exams, they found themselves with long holidays and ample time to spend together. Meeting five to six times a week, they filled their days with sports and chill hangout sessions. It was almost as if they were living together, sharing lunches and dinners, and ending their days with mandatory video calls filled with gossip and random chatter.

As time flew by, Aiden started dating Jane, a mutual friend. Jane was sweet and amiable, initially fitting seamlessly into the group. However, after a few weeks, Aiden stopped joining the nightly video calls and gradually distanced himself from Selena and Miguel. Despite their efforts to stay connected, their attempts felt increasingly one-sided. It became evident that Aiden had removed his two close friends from his life, prioritizing Jane above all else. This hurt Selena and Miguel deeply, and they eventually decided to let go of the friendship, tired of trying to save it.

One day, Selena received an unexpected message from Pav, an online friend. Pav asked curiously about Aiden, which struck Selena as odd. SURPRISE, SURPRISE! Aiden had cheated on Jane with Pav. The revelation was shocking Aiden, who seemed so devoted to Jane, had been unfaithful. Jane, already struggling with her parents’ divorce, had not been giving Aiden the attention he craved, leading him to seek it elsewhere.

Selena was unsure how to handle this information. Miguel suggested they inform Jane, believing she deserved to know the truth. With good intentions, Selena reached out to Jane, only to receive a hurtful response:

“I refuse to believe that you’re trying to look out for me. You’re two-faced. I appreciate you telling me about it but it’s not okay to talk about MY personal problems to another person, even though they’re my friend too. If at all I decide to open up, it should only come from me and no one else because it’s my relationship, not yours.”

The "another person" Jane referred to was Miguel, who had been close friends with Aiden. This response stung Selena, highlighting how much people could change. As more individuals in their lives transformed in unexpected ways, Selena and Miguel were left to grapple with the harsh reality that relationships are not set in stone. All they could do was adapt to the ever shifting dynamics and accept that change is an inevitable part of life.

[casspurrjoybell-21]

Pirate Chains - Volume 1 - Strong Tides

*Warning Adult Content*

Chapter 29 - Flashback - Part 1

Nyx

The sailor came running breathlessly, his urgency evident.

"Mr. Osborne. Mr. Osborne."

"Did you find them?" I inquired anxiously.

"Nah, they didn't show at the old port."

"What about the surrounding islands, Gaea? Butania?"

"No show in Butania," came the disappointing reply.

"We still haven't heard from Gaea, sir," another crew member interjected.

I stood at the edge of the port, my heart pounding as I paced back and forth, gazing out at the vast expanse of the sea.

"Sir, the ship is almost four days late now. We should assume that they're... sir, you know..." the crew member trailed off, hesitantly.

I snapped nervously, my voice filled with desperation.

"The sea is calm. No storms, no strong winds, no damned pirates around. There's no reason for the ship to sink."

The sailors stared at me, surprised by my uncharacteristic outburst.

I didn't care, though, the situation was dire.

"They don't have enough water for longer than another day or two, so they NEED TO BE FOUND."

"Sir, we already sent a ship to look for them."

"It's not enough... still not enough..." I muttered, my gaze fixated on the endless sea.

Silently, I pleaded with the ocean, desperately hoping it would return the twelve lives of the sailors who were on my ship... my late father's ship. It had only been seven months since he left us for a better place. I took over the business a month ago, amidst the chaos and the scattered sailors and shipwrights. It was only two weeks ago that I mustered the courage to send out the first fishing trip. Since then, I had sent out a couple others.

And yet, here I stood, already facing a great failure. The ship itself was a devastating loss and I had no idea if the business could withstand it. Moreover, since it was my father's ship, he would likely perceive it as a betrayal of his trust. But even more pressing was the fate of the sailors whom I had personally sent to the sea. I had never before considered the weight of responsibility for the lives of others.

If anything were to happen to them... My God, I didn't even know if those twelve men had families. Unlike my foolish self, my late father knew every detail about his sailors, each one personally. Damn it, how could a sturdy ship vanish into thin air, in such perfect weather. Everyone I knew... my friends, family, my father's acquaintances in the business world... they all seemed disappointed in me for not immediately stepping into my father's shoes. And now that I had, without exception, they expected me to fail.

I was all too familiar with the pain of losing someone you depend on. God, I begged silently, please spare me from taking these twelve lives from their innocent families and shattering their homes... I had spent the night at the port, unable to bring myself to return home for the past three days. As the sun reached its zenith the next day, I turned to the remaining workers who stood by me, unwavering in their support.

"Prepare another ship. I will go and find them myself," I declared.

"But, Mr. Osborne, sir, shouldn't we wait for the ship that's already searching for them? Besides, having three ships roaming the ocean with no work," one of the workers hesitantly pointed out.

"Prepare Hallie. She is the fastest among my father's ships," I commanded, noticing the discomfort on the sailors' faces.

I understood their concern.

The business had not yet fully recovered and due to my decisions, three ships would be draining resources without generating profits.

"Sir, it might not be wise for you to go in person," someone suggested.

Right, I was the cherished son who was forbidden from sailing on the ships I owned due to the mere notion that it might be 'dangerous'.

I sighed, knowing I could not do anything less than attempt to save the lives that my father had entrusted to me.

"I will return within two hours. Ensure Hallie is ready by then," I stated firmly.

I rode home in haste.

When I arrived, the first thing I encountered was the radiant face of my older sister, Raya.

Her wavy black hair cascaded beautifully as she hurried down the stairs to meet me.

Wearing a melancholic smile, she embraced me tightly.

"I was planning to bring you something to eat for lunch. I doubt you've been taking care of yourself. I know you've been working too hard for all of us, dear brother."

"I'm fine. Just some troubles at work but don't worry," I reassured her.

"I heard..." Raya's voice trailed off.

Nodding, I attempted to alleviate her concerns.

"Raya, I trust you to take care of our mother. I haven't been around much these days."

"Yes, I'm doing my best. But you know she only wants her dear baby by her side," she teased, gently poking my cheek.

I always admired my sister's ability to maintain a bright spirit, even during the darkest times.

She served as an anchor for our small family.

Despite her efforts to smile, a slight frown creased her brow as she pleaded.

"Nyx, would you please go to the garden first, to see her. The truth is... she hasn't eaten a bite since yesterday."

I nodded and immediately made my way to the garden. Mother disliked it when I spent the night at the port. I made sure to return home, no matter how late, just to show her my face at dawn before going back to work. However, whenever she was displeased with me and found me to be stubborn, she would refuse to eat until I complied with her wishes.

This behavior had been rare before. With my late father around, she only but speak the word and he'd make her dreams true or know how to reason with her. Since he passed away though, this behavior had become somewhat of a habit. I paused, taking a deep breath to calm myself. Forcing a warm smile, I entered the garden and approached my mother.

"My dear child."

Mother stood there, adorned in a long dress of black chiffon, intricately embroidered with beads and sequins.

She stepped forward, arms outstretched to welcome me.

"How could you leave your mother to worry for three days."

I did my best to maintain the smile, slightly lowering my gaze to meet her eyes.

"I'm sorry, mother. I've been very busy. But I am here now."

"Nyx, I'm grateful that you're stepping into your father's shoes. But once a ship leaves the island, there's little you can do... It's not your fault, my dear," she said gently, her hand cupping my cheek.

"Mother, I've heard that you haven't been eating again. If anything displeases you, I shall set it right. I hope it is not for my account? I've been heading by your wishes, caring for my father's business. And I'm not going anywhere. So why?" I inquired, concerned.

A smile played on her lips but her eyes betrayed a search for an excuse.

I knew she had been intentionally withholding food to pressure me into coming back home, yet now I could see her regretting it.

"I... I was worried and simply didn't have the appetite," she confessed.

"Mother, don't deny a God's blessing" I said, noticing her eyes welling up with tears as she nodded.

Those were the words my father used to console her.

As I began to extricate myself from her embrace, a throat clearing interrupted us.

"Mr. Hayes, I hadn't noticed you there," I acknowledged.

"Mr. Osborne, I have been keeping company with Lady Osborne. She appeared in need of a distraction from worrying about you. I assured her that you will make the right decisions. Despite your young age, I am confident you will choose the best option to protect your family and discard useless inflexibility," Mr. Hayes interjected, disguising his true intentions.

A wolf in sheep's clothing, this old man had been a business associate of my father, meeting him as equals. However, now he seemed to believe that our family was ruined by my father's passing. While my father's body was still warm, Mr. Hayes had begun to propose acquiring our business and mansion, deeming them time-consuming and too expensive.

He found no favorable response and then he attempted to push his scheming son onto my sister, claiming it was to help her through her grief, despite her being engaged to a decent man. Their behavior sickened me and if not for my father's memory, I would have expelled him from my home before the funeral had even concluded. Summoning a forced smile, I raised my chin to meet his haughty demeanor.

"I do my best, Mr. Hayes. I may not possess my father's level of skill and experience but I will ensure his wealth remains within the family and out of the clutches of vultures."

He shifted uncomfortably in his shoes, pushing his lower lip into a displeased, almost disgusted expression. Mother tightened her grip on my arm, silently urging me to remain composed. Glancing at her, I noticed her tilt her head slightly, shielding her eyes from Mr. Hayes as she rolled them, clearly bored by his presence. With that silent exchange, I took a deep breath and mustered another smile. At least she wasn't considering his noxious advances.

"I'll go change before heading back to the port," I stated, signaling my intent to depart.

"So soon? You should rest, dear. Take at least a nap, then have lunch with me," she insisted.

I pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"Sorry but I still have some matters to attend to. Mother, I don't want to hear that you've skipped another meal. Please..."

She nodded solemnly.

"I won't if you promise the same."

[wanda-zerouly]

3/5/23 Warm-up

It is a strange feeling to experience wind inside, even stranger is to experience it underground. I wrapped my arm around myself as the train flew on by. I wasn’t here for any specific purpose, rather it felt comfortable to remain here. Something moved in my heart as I watched the crowd filter in and out of the passing trains, a tide of people with all so many faces. Not once have I recognized a single one, each of them as strange to me as I am to them. My eyes kept drifting, a wanderer through the environment laid in front of it. They flitted to the walls, the tracks, the patterned tile, and on individual people. I couldn’t say whether I kept shivering due to the cold or the palpable feeling of finding comfort in loneliness. 

I cupped my hands around my mouth, trying to recover them from the cold stiffness I had let them remain in. A shuddering feeling of entrapment washed over me as I questioned why I was here. Shouldn’t I be a productive member of society? Shouldn’t I be doing something?  I could be doing anything other than this, and yet I can’t leave. My eyes start to burn and a squeezing tightness forms around my throat. Why the fuck am I here? What can’t I do anything fucking productive? And stop cursing damnit! I lower my hands back down and hang my head down. Why? Why? Why? Why am I so stupid? This is all my fault, it is all my damn fault.

I pushed away from the wall I was resting against. I feel so tired. I want to just fall, lay face down and remain there. I take a deep breath and try to organize the stampeding thoughts in my head. I should just go home, Roger is there. Let’s go home and cuddle Roger, that sounds nice. Yeah, let’s go home and kiss my sweet little boy. 

I take one step, only step at a time. It took me 15 steps to reach the stairwell. Come on, that wasn't so hard. We just got to climb those steps and we will be home soon. I stare up at the stairwell and I wonder how I even got down here. The steps are so daunting from down here. To climb so high and among so many people and noises, and weird ass lighting. No Yes NoYes, fine. I take the first step and the next and the next and th… 

As I emerge onto the street I stop for a second to lift my gaze to the sky. Why in the world does the sky have to be so gray and gross? It makes one feel sad just glancing at it. I hope it rains, for that is the only good that can come from these cluttered skies.

 I lean against the rising winds and keep my head down as I trudge towards my apartment. My steps feel lighter, less exhausting as I let my mind wonder about how Roger will greet me. Will he scratch at the door or bump his forehead against it? Will he rub up against my leg and purr softly? I can’t want to just scoop him up and nuzzle my face into his soft orange fur. I hope that he didn’t miss me too much. It doesn’t take that long before I stand in the shadow of my apartment complex. It rises so tall I cannot see the faint outline of sun through the cloud despite it being almost noon. I can feel myself swallow as I start to consider the mass of stairs I will have to climb. The elevator is out this week and I duly miss it.

I shiver as the winds pick up again and I place my hand on the painted metal railing of the stairs. The white paint has been chipping away for years now, so much so that my hand feels like it is gliding on sandpaper as it guides me up the stairs. One floor, two floors, three floors, four floors, and I’m almost home.

I furiously tug on the handle to the door leading to my floor. What if they locked it? What if it is stuck for good? Can anyone please help me? Why isn’t this working? LET ME IN, YOU DAMNED DOOR. I nearly fall backwards as the door squeals open. My forceful step backward to keep me from falling down the stairs, echoes throughout the structure, like striking a chime. I wonder to myself if this embarrassment was worth living. It wasn’t, but it’s too late to die now.

I sigh and step through the doorway trying not to let the door slam behind me. I pinch at the webbing between my fore finger and my thumb, trying to remember where to step on the creaky floor of this hallway. One in the middle. Two to the left. One on the right. Don’t get close to 419’s door. Step over the frayed line. One in the middle. Two to the left. One to the right. Stand away from my door and open it fast. I got this, no one will know that I was here. Come on so simply, one in the middle, two….. I repeat these steps in my head as I creep down the hallway. I feel woozy as my emotions get stuck between the rushing sense of fear as I try to not make a single sound and the unmovable sense of relief from seeing my apartment door only 10 feet further.

The feeling of panic soon fades as I come to stare at the number plate on my door and I feel an indescribable urge to brush my fingers up against it. I take a deep breath and prepare to rush though so that no sound of squealing hinge can be heard. I glance down at my feet to make sure they won’t push on the spot just right before my door that sounds like the screams of the damned. I push my key into the lock and turn it. I listen closely to hear the patter of tiny footsteps rushing to the door and Roger’s little beeps. I rush through the door, trying to neither hit Roger with the door nor slam it shut. I’ve made it home.

 Roger starts to rub his face on my pant leg and soon collapses over my shoe. I lean down to caress his sweet little head. He beeps at me before standing up and running over to my bed on the other side of the room. He wants me to come lay down with him. I take off my shoes, my coat, and somehow even my worries as I walk over. I cuddle up to Roger and try not to cry. What could I have done to deserve such a sweet baby? I love you so much. Thank you for being my friend.

[sparrowpharoh]

~Mutual Aid Request~

So let's start with the good news. I have a job starting this sunday (8/28). If the universe aligns in a merciful way, I should be getting my first paycheck on the sixteenth of September.

More likely than not that check will largely be consumed by the multitude of overdue and neglected expenses I have been unable to pay for, so how much of a finish line that date serves as remains to be seen. I may well have another two weeks beyond that before I actually have any real usable income.

BUT! Now is not the time for pessimism! Now is the time for hope, and may despair take the week off for a change. For now, my only obstacle is getting through the next few weeks.

Yesterday I spent the remainder of my available cash on as much groceries as I could afford to get through until then. Today I did the math and everything together is barely over 2k calories.

I do not think that will stretch over the next 20+ days.

I am looking into local food banks but I'm in a rural area, so even 'nearby' places mean a decent amount of driving and therefore gas. I currently only have enough gas to cover maybe a week max of commuting to work, if that. In addition there are other complications with food because I'm living in a stationary bus with limited electricity. My only means of cooking or boiling water involves making a fire, so I'm trying to avoid that as much as possible. I have no refrigeration and am in a constant state of war with the neighboring mouse and ant populations which make storing any food that isn't canned difficult and risky.

As far as medications I am immensely relieved to say that I have a surplus of my psychiatric meds. But I have only a couple days left of my HRT, which frankly does jus as much if not more for my mental health and stability.

If anyone who sees this is able to help, I will be eternally grateful. But if you can't, please, don't let this add to your stress. If you would feel guilt for not being able to help the whole of the earth with only two hands, then there is something you can do to help me, and that's to help yourself. Let your own wounds heal first and know that doing so will make us all stronger as a rising tide lifts all ships.

But if you do have the means to offer assistance, my cshapp is $SparrowPharoh and I also have a PP and Vnmo I can tell over DM. Or jus spreading this so someone else who might have more means to offer has the chance to see it as well.

$54/200 (tentative goal)

The work seems endless and every victory carries three more challenges with it. But there is light in the distance. I know there is.