#but over all public transport in tas SUCKS

[balerionthedead]

There aren't trains in Tasmania???

There are trains - there’s a freight line that goes through the major towns - we just don’t have any commercial passenger trains, only little tourist trains that cost $80+ and take you 1-2 kilometres along the coast or through the rainforest. They’re pretty, I’m sure, but ultimately pointless. If I wanted to get from Launceston to Hobart & back, I’d have to either drive or take the bus, which most people in Tasmania can agree are both terrible options.

It’s just really frustrating because the lines EXIST, they discontinued passenger trains in the 70s and, again, the freights pass through the major towns, but because cars are a Thing, it’s unsustainable (yet, most people I know would much rather take a train than have to drive long distances)

[jobean12-blog]

After the Fall

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 6,399

Summary: Bucky is your first love...your first everything so when things fall apart in college over a stupid misunderstanding you’re completely heartbroken but manage to move on...that is until your past comes back in a way you least expect it. 

Author’s Note: When Bucky and reader are dating they are at least 18 and when they reconnect their age is up to you- but they are obviously adults. The type of jobs mentioned are also up to interpretation- it’s a business thing for sure but as far as details it’s up to you! I had this whole moodboard planned to show the progression from young Bucky to now but I suck at them so instead I stuck some pictures in the middle of the fic to give you an idea :) And the first pic is what he looks like now hehe 🥵Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Dividers by the sweet @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: some angsty parts over past events, both Bucky and reader have lots of feels, there’s soft fluff and sweetness, i-m-pl-ie-d s-e-x-y times, f-in-g-er-in-g, some light d-i-rt-y ta-lk, Bucky is delicious of course lol 

You pace your apartment and try not to fiddle with your outfit any more than you already have. It’s only seven thirty am and you’ve been up since six. You still have an hour and a half before you have to meet with Steve for your first official day of work.

Maybe you should leave now…New York City public transportation can never be trusted. The office building is only a fifteen-minute train ride but just to be sure…

Twenty-five minutes later you find yourself sitting in the lobby of the large building, your face to your phone and your foot bouncing rapidly. Several people walk by and you barely notice them, keeping an eye on the time and carefully sipping your drink.

But then you hear heavy footsteps and a hushed voice, one that sounds almost familiar and just as you look up you catch the retreating back of a tall man, broad shouldered and with long dark hair neatly tied into a bun at the base of his neck.

You stare until he disappears inside the elevator, your whole-body tingling with awareness. Could it be your past has finally caught up with you after all this time? Or is it just the constant lingering feeling of what you never truly got over?

Just a coincidence. It has to be.

After several blinks you check your phone again and decide it’s time to head up to Steve’s office.

The receptionist outside his office greets you warmly before picking up the phone and letting Steve know you’re here.

You knock, even though you don’t have to, and wait until you hear Steve call you inside. When you open the door you notice he’s quietly speaking to someone and due to your sudden onset of nerves it doesn’t register that it’s the same man from earlier until he turns around and his ocean blue eyes meet yours.

Eyes you know. Eyes you had fell in love with a long time ago.

Your stomach plummets to your toes and you must look like a deer caught in headlights because Steve stands suddenly and rounds his desk.

“Are you ok?” Steve asks but your eyes are still glued to Bucky.

Steve calls your name and you finally look at him and swallow hard with a nod but your eyes flicker back to Bucky when he starts to move toward the door.

Bucky says something to Steve that you don’t register and already has one foot out the door before Steve stops him.

“Hey Buck, wait a second. I want to introduce you to our new executive assistant.”

Bucky stops short, still facing the hallway and slowly turns, plastering a fake smile on his face.

Steve gives him your name and you hold out a shaky hand.

The moment his skin touches yours you feel him over every inch of your body and a flood of memories assaults you, leaving you almost speechless.

“Bucky is my partner,” Steve says proudly.

You manage a small hello and quickly pull your hand back. Bucky looks away, nodding to Steve before leaving the office.

Steve’s eyebrows are drawn in with concern as he moves his gaze back to you.

“That was weird,” he mutters, studying you and you think he’s waiting for an explanation.

“I’m sorry if I interrupted anything,” you say softly.

“Not at all,” Steve answers with a warm smile. “Now come and sit. Let’s get you set up for your first day.”

You visibly relax and take a deep breath, reminding yourself that you’ve worked hard to get this position and you won’t let anything, not even your first boyfriend, your first love…your first everything, get in your way.

Thankfully the rest of your first day goes smoothly with no sign of Bucky and you have enough work to keep your brain busy and focused.

It’s when you get home, toe your heels off and fall onto the couch that the day catches up with you, breaking like a wave against the rocks and you sink deeper into the cushions with a groan.

Your cell rings, pulling your from your thoughts.

“Hey Nat,” you say tiredly as you greet your best friend.

“HOW WAS THE FIRST DAY?” she says, far too loudly.

You wince but a small smile pulls at your lips.

“It was great. Steve is so sweet and I was busy all day but kicked ass.”

“I knew it,” she says. “But I get the sense there’s more…”

She waits, always patient and far too perceptive.

“What do you mean more?” you ask, trying to sound easy and breezy.

“Babe,” she admonishes. “I can hear it in your voice.”

When you don’t elaborate she says, “I’m here and ready to listen when you want to talk.”

Her kind words are all you need to hear before you sigh heavily and blurt out, “Bucky works at the firm. He’s Steve’s partner.”

Silence on the other end of the line.

“Nat?”

“Wow,” is all she says.

“I know.”

“Are you ok?” she asks, her voice tentative.

“I will be,” you answer, closing your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Dare I ask…how did he look? It’s been so long!”

The image of him flashes in your mind but it’s blurry and mixed with the younger version of him you know from your past.

“Honestly, I don’t even know. I barely registered more than his eyes. I was in shock.”

“Understandable,” she says. “Want me to come over?”

“No but thank you. I’m just going to take a bath and go to bed. I have the rest of the week to get through.”

“Ok babe. Call me if you need me.”

“I will, thank you again.”

Once you have a warm bath running, bubbles dancing along the surface and the calming scent of lavender filling the space, you sink under the water, hoping to wash away the day and maybe even some of the past.

The phone at your desk rings and you answer with your well-practiced greeting, smiling when you hear Steve’s voice. He lets you know he’ll be out of the building most of the day, handling some meetings downtown and that Bucky will be here should you need anything.

You hang up and square your shoulders, refocusing on your computer screen and doing your best to push Bucky to the back of your mind.

It works until an hour before lunch when you get a notification for a meeting. The e-mail doesn’t give you many details, just a time and place to be. Silently praying it has nothing to do with Bucky you gather your lap top and bag and make your way to the top floor.

The office door is closed but you can hear voices and when you knock and hear Bucky say, “come in,” you instantly tense up.

He repeats the words and you finally find the strength to push open the door.  

Three sets of eyes turn your way, only one of them familiar. The other two men openly admire you and you have to force yourself not to sneer at them.

Bucky must notice because he says, “gentleman if you don’t mind we have business to conduct.” His words are firm but harsh and the two other men clear their throats and look away to absentmindedly fix their ties.

You step inside, shutting the door behind you and sitting at the small conference table.

A shadow appears over you and you look up to meet Bucky’s eyes.

“I need you to take minutes for the meeting and…”

The rest of his words fade away as you finally take a moment to get a good look at him. His voice is deeper now, his suit filled out with muscles he didn’t have when you were younger and his hair…his hair is long enough to brush his shoulders.

His presence is overwhelming, sending shockwaves through every nerve in your body and making them buzz with memories.

“You still with me?” Bucky asks, a cocky smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.

You nod and look down at your computer.

The meeting lasts about an hour and you do your job perfectly regardless of the fact that your heart is in your throat and your stomach is in knots.

“Thanks gentleman,” Bucky says as the two men get up to leave.

They both glance your way again with matching smiles and one of them opens his mouth to speak but Bucky quickly interjects.

“Meetings over.”

They leave without another word and you and Bucky are alone in his office.

You can feel his eyes on you and when you look up at him his jaw is clenching and his eyes are hard.

“Small world, huh?.”

He grunts, which you take as an agreement.

“I didn’t know you were Steve’s partner,” you start, inwardly berating yourself for the quiver in your voice. “This was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up.”

“I can tell you know what you’re doing,” he says, leaning over the table. “This is all strictly professional.”  

“Right,” you agree.

He stares for a moment longer then dips his chin before saying, “I’m going to lunch. You can see yourself out.”

You’re left staring blankly at the empty space he just occupied, the silence he left behind deafening and filled with so many unspoken words.

“Better day today?” Nat asks, this time from the couch beside you.

“I sat in on a meeting Bucky was conducting.”

“Oo,” she says, pouring you more wine.

“He looks so good Nat. Even better than before and I didn’t think that was possible…his hair is long now.”

She lifts her eyebrow and smirks. “Better huh? Well, he must be losing his mind over you.”

You smile at her in thanks but shrug. “He couldn’t have left his office quicker if I had set him on fire,” you joke.

“Are you ever going to talk about what happened?” she asks, eyeing you from over the rim of her glass.

“What’s there to talk about? We were young. When we talked about going to different schools he made it sound so easy. We’d visit every weekend. Be together every break and talk every day on the phone. But then…things just happened.”

“What things?” she asks gently.

“I kept hearing from other friends that he was studying,” and you make air quotes with the word, “with some girl named Sharon from this classes. I never asked about it because I trusted him but then we both got busier and we had less time…he seemed distant, or maybe it was just me. Things started to fall apart. Then I met Matt…”

She smiles wryly at the mention of your ex.

“More wine please,” you say with huff.

The next two days go by without a hitch. Steve seems very pleased with your work so far and you start to settle into your role well.

However, things fall apart again when Friday rolls around and you’re standing in the hallway speaking to one of the gentleman, Brad, from the meeting earlier in the week. He found you on your way to the staff room and practically cornered you to introduce himself.

“So, you should come out with us tonight. It’s a good way to end the week,” Brad says.

He leans closer to you, into your personal space, and you take a step back just as Bucky rounds the corner.

Your back meets his chest and you lunge forward but you never get far because Bucky’s hands wrap around your waist and he hauls you back to him.

“Woah,” you say, freezing at the feel of his hands on you.

Brad laughs but it quickly fades when he sees the murderous look on Bucky’s face.

“What’s going on here?” Bucky asks. “Don’t you two have work to get done.”

Your mouth drops open with a sassy retort but Brad beats you to it.

“We just met in the hallway and I was inviting her to drinks tonight,” Brad says lightly.

Bucky turns his eyes to you. “I was just going to grab my lunch. It’s my break.”

Your tone is defensive and you lift your chin defiantly.

“That might not be the best idea,” Bucky starts, turning back to Brad with a smirk. “She’s a lightweight….one too many drinks and she might be…”

“Don’t finish that sentence Barnes,” you spit out.

Both Bucky and Brad look taken aback then Brad breaks the awkward stare down between you and Bucky with a question.

“Do you two know each other?”

Bucky keeps his eyes on you when he answers with, “will you excuse us Brad. We need a minute alone.”

Brad looks between the two of you. “Ok, no problem.” But before he walks away he says to you, “hope to see you tonight.”

Bucky glares at Brad’s back then gently takes your arm and hauls you down to the nearest office. He opens the door and ushers you inside.

“What is your problem?” you ask before he even shuts the door.

“Why were you talking to Brad?” he asks.

You groan and fist your hands at your sides.

“It’s just like he said. We met in the hallway and he asked me to come out for drinks tonight!”

Bucky grunts.

“What is it with all the grunting? And I can’t believe you were about to make some shitty comment about my drinking!”

His shoulders sag and his eyes soften slightly.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that but….”

He growls and turns away from you.

“But you broke my heart doll!”

When he finally turns back your way there are tears shining in your eyes. At his words, at the use of the endearment he saved only for you and at the way he looks once again, like the boy you fell in love with all those years ago.

“Yeah, well…you broke mine too,” you whisper as you look down at your feet.

You stand there in silence for what feels like forever before quietly saying. “We have to work together now. We can’t let our history be a problem. I want this job. I’ve worked hard for it.”

He scoffs and meets your gaze.

“Friends?” you ask, holding out your hand.

He stares at your outstretched hand but doesn’t’ take it as he steps incrementally closer.

“History?” Is that what you’re calling it?”

His voice is a growl, low and powerful.

“Bucky,” you try again.

“No doll. I can’t do friends with you. I know what you taste like when you come screaming my name.”

The memories wash over you, making your skin heat and your head dizzy. You’re reeling between feeling aroused and ashamed and angry.

“I’m not friends with people who give up on everything and bail for something new and shiny.”

His words hurt, hitting right where he wants them but you gather your strength and remind yourself that you’re here because you should be and what happened between you and Bucky has nothing to do with it.

“Seriously? It was so long ago, Bucky. Something tells me you haven’t been locked away and pining for me all this time.”

Your eyes slowly devour every inch of him. “No, I think you’ve been just fine without me.”

“See something you like doll face?” he murmurs.

He stands up straight and tall, crossing his arms over his chest and causing the fabric of his suit jacket to pull tightly at his bulging biceps and his long legs are spread wide as he smiles sardonically.

You can’t stop your gasp before it passes your lips. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” he mocks.

You don’t want to answer his question because it’s true. You do like it. More than you want to admit.

His long hair curls at his shoulders, neatly styled and framing a sharp jawline that’s lined with dark scruff, some spots even peppered with gray. His full lips are soft and kissable and his hands…you know what those hands are capable of.  Long fingers that are now adorned with rings, the shining gold glinting under the bright lights of the office and drawing your attention, spread wide over his arms.

It’s suffocating but you can’t stop your blatant perusal.

Your eyes drop to his long legs and what’s between them, his suit pants straining against what’s behind his zipper, the thick cock that stretched you for the first time.  

His smile is filled with arrogance as it widens into a grin and his gaze sears you, rooting you in place as he leisurely looks his fill.

“I certainly like what I see,” he says, licking his lips. “But none of that matters any more, right? Old news.”

“I won’t let you ruin this opportunity for me,” you tell him, willing your voice to stay even. “And I know Steve suspected something was up when I walked in the first day so don’t…”

“I already told Steve we have a past but don’t worry I didn’t tell him all the shitty details,” Bucky retorts. “Your secret is safe with me.”

He stands there with an expectant look on his face.

“Are you waiting for a thank you!” you almost shout. “I can’t believe it.”

You see his mouth opening to interrupt you, but you hold up a staying hand.

“Let’s just agree to be professional so we can do our jobs.”

You take a step around him but he blocks your way, his body large and imposing in the small space and when he leans down, his breath tickling your ear, and whispers, “I’ll see you on Monday then,” an involuntary shiver shoots down your spine.

He meets your eyes, his own sparkling with the same desire you know is in yours then reaches around you to open the door.

With a rush you shoot down the hallway and back to your office, silently praying no one caught you coming out of the room.

Once you’re safely inside with the door shut, you lean against it and finally let out a shuddering breath, swiping at your eyes.  

“I’m exhausted,” you explain to Nat after telling her about the events of the day.  “Even if I had wanted to go I would be asleep on the bar in minutes.”

“Well, just don’t let him dictate your social life. You have every right to go out and relax with coworkers. Especially cute ones. And you know I’ll come with you if you want.”

Nat’s words bring a smile to your face. “Thank you. Let’s just hope I can make it through next week.”

Later that night, after trying and failing to find something to watch that will keep your attention you crawl into bed and dream.

Your laid back on his bed as his stubble scratches along the sensitive skin of your neck and his whispered words reach your ears.

“You want my cock doll?”

You moan out his name, arching beneath him.

“Tell me.”

“Yes, yes I want your cock Bucky,” you purr.

His chuckle vibrates along your stomach as he moves lower. “Just need a taste first.”

“Please,” you beg just before his tongue flicks over your clit.

You push your hips into his face and he growls in approval.

“More,” you demand, and he obliges as one thick finger teases your opening.

You wake up just before he fills you, panting and disoriented. Looking around your dark room you can barely remember where you are. Or when. The past mixing with the present and creating something dangerous.

Your arousal is evident in the stickiness of your panties and you squeeze your thighs together in search of some relief. You sit up and take a sip of water from the glass on your nightstand, wishing it would quench more than your thirst. You consider finishing yourself off, it won’t take much, and he’ll never know, but you will.

Monday morning arrives faster than you’d like and you find yourself dragging your heels, literally, into the office.

You see Bucky in a meeting later that day and you notice him glancing your way several times, words and thoughts and emotions crossing over his face but you can’t decipher them.

The problem is you feel the same way. Confused and unsure…well maybe not unsure about everything. You definitely want him but that’s a line you know you shouldn’t cross, especially after the harsh words you exchanged last week.

The meeting ends and so does the day. And the next and the next until it’s Friday. It’s past five pm and you’re still in your office working on something for Steve. He pops his head in and tells you to leave but you wave him off and explain you’d rather get it done now and relax this weekend. He bids you goodbye once you promise not to stay too late.

You’re in the middle of a thought when the door opens again and without looking up you say, “don’t worry Steve, I should only be another hour then I promise I’ll go home.”

“Another hour and it will be dinner time.”

You look up at the sound of Bucky’s voice, your eyes wide and your lips lightly spread with surprise.

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly. “Thought you were Steve.”

He smiles and for the first time you can tell it reaches his eyes.

“I’m going to be done at about the same time…dinner?”

You stare at him, not sure if you heard him right.

“Unless you had other plans toni…”

“No,” you interrupt. “I don’t and uh dinner sounds good. I’m starving actually.”

“Great, then I’ll see you in an hour. There’s this little noodle place we can walk to from here.”

You smile gratefully, waiting until the door shuts behind him to let out a whoosh of air.

“I don’t see a table,” you say as you look around Bucky into the restaurant.

He grabs your hand and you ignore the tingles that shoot up your arm as he drags you through the place. In the back corner, there’s a lone table, small but empty.

He holds his arm out, gesturing for you to sit. “I usually come hide in the back here if I have work to do but need food,” he explains.

You sit and he follows, plopping down across from you. The table’s so small that his knees bump yours underneath.

“Ow,” you hiss.

“Shit, sorry doll,” he mumbles as he moves his chair, bringing him closer to your side.

“I forgot how big your are.”

Your eyes go wide as you hear your own words come out of your mouth.

“Man doll face, you sure know how to hurt a guy’s feelings.”

His tone is light and teasing but you look down, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you fidget with your hands and try not to remember exactly how big he really is.

Thankfully the waitress stops by to ask for your drink order. Once you tell her what you want you sit quietly and peek over at Bucky.

He looks nervous and for some reason it makes you feel better.

You both start to speak at the same time then laugh over your jumbled words.

“Go ahead doll,” he says.

“I was going to remind you of how much we used to talk. Remember all those nights we stayed up late either on the phone or hanging out in our favorite spot on the roof.”

His eyes sparkle at the thought. “Of course I remember. There never seemed to be enough time.”

The waitress reappears with your drinks and sets them down.

“Still like that whiskey huh?” Bucky teases. “I remember the first time you tried whiskey.”

“Oh gosh, I try not to,” you groan.

He suddenly looks sad. “I’m sorry about that comment last week…about the drinking. And about most of what I said. It was harsh. It’s just. This is hard,” and he gestures between the two of you.

“I get it. Believe me.”

“What happened to us?” you say after taking a sip of your drink.

“So much,” he responds. “But I feel…”

His words are interrupted when the waitress appears with your food. You take a few bites, focusing on chewing and swallowing as you muster up the courage to say the next words.

“I never gave up on us,” you start, your voice pained. “I never bailed…I heard so many things…people were talking.”

“What did you hear?” he asks, his fork held tightly between his fingers. “What are you talking about?”

“People were telling me you were with Sharon all the time…studying…and I wasn’t sure what else. You pulled back, we talked less…I don’t know it just didn’t feel the same. I was losing you.”

“Losing me?!” he says, far too loudly for the space. He squeezes his eyes shut then continues, his voiced hushed but still angry. “I was just trying to keep my grades up. I was struggling. I missed you so much and I couldn’t handle it. My grades slipped and the idea of you thinking I was a failure was too much on top of everything else. Sharon was just helping me. Nothing ever happened between us.”

You stare at him, your eyes glassy as they fill with unshed tears. “I don’t understand. When I asked you to come visit so we could talk…you…you were so hesitant, I thought it was because you were going to break up with me and then…you never showed.”

“I did. I did show,” he says quietly. “But you were with Matt.”

“What?” you gasp. “When? How come you didn’t tell me?”

“I was too ashamed. I figured you had moved on to someone better, someone who was able to keep their shit together and I didn’t want to mess that up for you.”

“Bucky,” you whisper. “I wasn’t with Matt. We were just friends.”

“But it didn’t stay that way,” he says, his tone accusatory.

“No. But that wasn’t until I knew it was over for us. I was completely heartbroken and it never worked out with Matt. He couldn’t get over the fact that I was still in love with you.”

That knocks the wind out of him and the two of you sit there, staring and uncertain.

He abruptly stands, knocking into the table. “Come on, let’s dance.”

“What?” you screech as he grabs your hand. “There isn’t even any music. This is a restaurant!?”

You don’t fight him as he tugs you away from the table and to the other side of the small room and when you spot the jukebox you can’t help the smile forming on your lips.

“I should have known you’d take me to a place with one of these,” you laugh.

He looks over his shoulder and winks before he starts scrolling through the songs. He stops on one but you can’t see the name then presses a few more buttons before he takes your hand again and pulls you to him.

The music starts and you almost stumble into him, recognizing the melody immediately.

“Your favorite,” he says quietly, drinking you in with his eyes.

You sway together and he spins you slowly, his hand teasing along your lower back. He takes your hand and lays your palm against his chest as you move back and forth. It’s not really dancing, more like you’re pressed together, shifting on your feet.

When you move your fingers across his chest you feel his sharp intake of breath. Your eyes trace the movements as your hand spans his broad chest then grazes over the gold chain peeking out from the open buttons of his shirt.  

“I like all this,” you say quietly, pressing the chain into his skin before you glance at the rings on his fingers.

“Glad to hear it doll,” he rumbles, looking far too pleased.

Your hand slides to his bicep and he flexes, smirking when you look up at him through your lashes.

“When do you have time to work out?” you whisper into the small space between you as your gaze wanders over his arms.

“Early in the morning,” he answers. “And you should see the rest of me.”

Need rumbles through his voice and you look up to meet his eyes.

“Bucky…”

He kisses you before you can finish the thought, stealing your breath. You freeze for a single heartbeat and then kiss him back with everything you have.

“Fuck doll.”

He wraps his arms around you tighter, pulling you against him and you lean into him willingly, a moan vibrating through you. His hand slips around to cup your throat, his thumb brushing over your jaw as he tilts your head back, deepening the kiss.

The music stops and you hear a few catcalls from some random guys at another table. It breaks the spell and you take a step back.

You start to panic and he can tell, his hands tightening at your waist.

“Doll…”

“No, we can’t.”

“Yes we fucking can,” he answers back. “We’re adults and we can do whatever the fuck we want. And make no mistake,” he continues, grasping your chin between his thick fingers to force your eyes to his, “I want you.”

You audibly swallow and sway into him. He holds you close, his eyes wandering over your face expectantly.

“I just…I panicked. I need a minute,” you admit.

He visibly relaxes and slides his knuckles along your curves to find your hand before taking it in his and pulling you toward the door.

“Where are we going?” you ask once you’re outside.

“I’m walking you home,” he says quietly, not letting go of your hand. “Just like when we were kids.”

You smile and press closer to him, loving the feel of his thumb brushing over your knuckles. The walk is mostly silent as your mind races to find the right words. You want this. Want him. But is it too much too quickly? It’s been so long but even so your body remembers him, has his touch memorized and seared into your skin and your heart…your heart has been full of him since the day you met.

When you reach your apartment building you stop. “This is me.”

He waits patiently for you to speak but when you don’t he asks, “so now what?”

“I want this. You. Us. I never stopped wanting it,” you confess. “But we’ve both hurt each other and I think we need to take it slow.”

“I’ll do whatever you want if it means you’re willing to give this a chance,” he answers. “But I can’t promise I’ll behave…I’ve been dreaming about being inside you for far too long and my hand just ain’t cutting it doll.”

You bite your lip, desire written all over your face even as you try to shoot him an admonishing glare.  

“But we’ll start with a date,” he says softly. “And I know just where I’m gonna take you.”

With a small nod you lean forward and kiss the corner of his mouth, your lips lingering on the taste of his skin before you pull away and move from his embrace.

“Tomorrow?” he asks. “Or too soon?”

“Tomorrow,” you repeat.

“HE KISSED YOU?” Nat screeches and you have to move the phone away.

You’re nodding before you realize she can’t see you.

“Yes, right there in the middle of the noodle place.”

“Well?”

“Well what?” you ask.

“How was it?”

You sigh almost dreamily. “Better than I remember which I didn’t think was possible.”

“And you’re sure you’re ok with this?”

“I’m feeling so much but the thing I’m feeling most is the fact that I want him. I’m hoping it’s more than a physical thing. It feels more than that because to be completely honest I never stopped loving him.”

“I’m glad you’re giving this a chance,” Nat says. “Just go at a pace that makes you comfortable.”

“So I should have sex with him tomorrow…? Because I’m perfectly comfortable.”

You can hear Nat’s snicker. “Girl, if you do I better get every dirty detail.”

You giggle and cover your mouth, feeling lighter than you have in weeks.

“Just keep them closed ok?”

You squeeze your eyes shut and hold tightly to his hand, stepping on the backs of his feet several times as he leads you to your date spot.

“Sorry Buck,” you laugh.

“It’s ok doll, just another few steps.”

You hear something metal creak open and then a blast of cool air hits your face.  He throws his arm around your shoulder and tucks you into his side.

“Ok, open your eyes.”

You’re met with a scene that takes your breath away. It’s both familiar and new, the old roof top a space you frequented when you were younger but now it’s been brought to life in a whole new way.

Soft string lights hang from a make shift canopy where underneath you see a small chaise lounge that’s covered in a plush blanket and cocooned by fluffy pillows.

“Oh Bucky,” you gush. “You did all this?”

He smiles and kisses your forehead. “I remember how much you loved it up here.”

“It’s beautiful. All of it.”

“I have one last thing to show you. C’mere.”

He pulls you along with him and pauses near the old fire escape.

“Close your eyes,” he orders again, slipping his hands over them from behind.

You laugh and reach up to hold his wrists, fiddling with the gold bracelet that dangles loosely there. “What are you doing?”

“This,” he whispers along the shell of your ear.

He moves his hands from your eyes and you gasp and cover your mouth, but then reach out, tracing one finger over the etched lines in the metal.

Your initials are carved neatly into the rusted metal, still standing out against the weathered material after all this time.

You spin in his arms, your eyes falling to his lips just as you lick your own, his eyes tracking the movement.

“Thank you Bucky.”

And then you kiss him. He grabs your face gently between his large hands, nipping at your lower lip and you open for him without hesitation. You press into him and he slides his hands down your back, brushing his thumbs over the sides of your breasts.

You whimper his name, moving your lips to his neck to trace down the muscular column.

“Fuck,” he groans as he walks you back toward the chaise lounge. With a spin he sits down and pulls you into his lap, your thighs on either side of his.

You pull back, your eyes bright and your lips swollen.

“You’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”  

Your whispered thanks gets lost in the moment as he dips his head and drags his nose along your skin, inhaling softly.

“Whatever you want doll. Anything, nothing. Say the word and it’s yours.”

His words are rough even as his hands move delicately to caress your body.

You lean forward, softly kissing along his jawline toward his ear, your breath fanning his skin when he squeezes your ass.

“Touch me.”

“Touch you where doll? You want me to fill you with my fingers?” You want my mouth. I’ll lick up every last drop of whatever you wanna give me.”

You tremble in his arms, tugging at the button down that hangs loosely over his shoulders, your fingers splaying over his exposed skin as he shrugs it off. You rake your nails over his tight white tank, desperate for more of him but instead he tucks his fingers under your shirt and pulls it up and off.

His large hand covers your breast, his thumb brushing your nipple through your bra and you arch your back, pushing your chest into his face.

Your hips rock, rubbing up and down over the hard ridge of his cock.

“I’m gonna come in my pants if you don’t stop that baby doll.”

You don’t stop. Can’t. And when his fingers pop open the button of your pants you grind down even harder, needing more.

His fingers move lower and he hisses at the softness of your skin before he finds you soaked and ready for him.

“Yes,” you breathe out. “More.”

“Right here?” he teases, lightly brushing his finger over your clit.

He spreads your juices all over you, coating his fingers and your skin until you’re completely wild for him, writhing as you try to fuck his hand.

Two thick fingers sink inside you, his rings hitting your skin as he meets every one of your thrusts, going faster and harder when you mewl for more with every stroke.

“Bucky. I’m gonna come,” you warn.

“Come for me doll. Come all over my fingers. Squeeze me tight.”

His words send you careening over the edge and you cry out his name but he doesn’t stop the slow pumping of his fingers, drawing out every last bit of your pleasure.

You collapse against him, your head laying along his shoulder. His skin is warm and soft beneath your cheek and you can’t help but press your lips there. You spasm on his fingers once more before he slowly pulls them free and brings them between you, staring at the glistening proof of what he does to you.

With a predatory gleam in his eyes he holds you gaze and pushes his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean one by one.

“Fuck doll, you’re so sweet. I almost forgot how good you taste.”

You turn your face to his as your fingers tip toe down his chest, catching on the gold chain that rests against his warm skin, before moving lower.

“What about you?”

He rests his hands over yours, stopping you from undoing the button of his jeans.

“Not yet baby doll. I want to at least give you a real date first.”

“Are you being all gentlemanly now?” you pout. “We’ve had sex up here before.”

“I’ll fuck this pussy anywhere and anytime you’ll let me, but you want to go slow and this is more than just fucking. It always has been. When I get back inside you, it’ll be because we’ve worked through all this shit for good, all the shit that never should have gotten in our way. And there won’t be any going back. You’ll be mine again.”

Even though you always have been.

@sstan-hoe @lookiamtrying @hallecarey1 @kmc1989 @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife @late-to-the-party-81 @randomfandompenguin @hiddles-rose @sebstanwhore @book-dragon-13 @littleseasiren @justkinsey​ @beccablogsthings​ @laineyreads​

[kiruuuuu]

Smoke/Mute in which ten cups of coffee change Mute’s life. (Rating T, slice of life/fluff/budding romance, ~5.8k words) - written for none other than @nutbrain​ for being a remarkable human being and an even better friend 💖 Please enjoy!

.

Mark eyes the shopfront before him with suspicion. His safe haven apparently gone, a flashier version has taken its place some time during the semester break, keeping nothing but the location and the proffered goods. Instead of the old-fashioned, thick-cushioned chairs and dim lighting, the new café shines with an open-floor concept, simple wooden furniture and an overall dark look with specks of gold to brighten it up. Leo Coffee, reads the sign next to a golden logo displaying a roaring lion. What big cats have to do with coffee isn’t obvious to Mark, but he overcomes his initial distaste and steps inside nonetheless.

As visible from outside, the place is deserted. The previous coffee shop was frequented by businesspeople and students alike, located halfway between the campus and Mark’s dorm – on rainy days, people often took public transport and bought their coffee elsewhere, but even on those occasions, it’s never been as empty as this.

Not that Mark is complaining. If the coffee is good, he’ll continue frequenting the new shop, and being able to work in peace would be an added bonus. He is quite fond of Julien and Timur, but even so, they’re not the… easiest to live with. To say the least. A quiet place would be very welcome.

He sets his books down on the table furthest away from the counter, slings his bag over the back of a chair and approaches the empty void where an employee should be standing. This is when he notices another curiosity: there’s no menu board. There isn’t even a menu card by the counter or anywhere, really, only a glass case with a handful of baked goods inside, most of which look like a child made them. So far, the only redeeming quality is the delicious dark smell of roasted coffee beans lingering in the air.

After another minute, still nobody has appeared, so Mark checks his phone for reviews. If the place has less than four stars – alright, three, he’s giving them the benefit of the doubt purely because of their convenient location and quietness –, then he’s out of here. He can’t even remember the last time he had to wait this long to -

“Are you going to order or what?”

Nearly dropping his phone in the process, Mark jumps at the sudden gruff voice and looks up to find himself face to face with a grizzled man. The black apron is all that betrays him as an employee as the unimpressed glare and casual attire do nothing in his favour. “Uh”, he replies eloquently and vows that he’ll never set foot in this place again if this is how he’s going to get treated.

The old man’s expression melts into friendliness. “I’m sorry, I just wasn’t expecting anyone. Welcome to Café Leo – it’s your first time here, so have a loyalty card, lad.”

Mark accepts the piece of paper without thinking, still thrown off by the bloke’s sudden appearance (how does he move completely silent like that), and at least has the presence of mind to inspect it. Its contents are so absurd that he forgets to ask how the man opposite him knew he hadn’t been to the shop yet. “‘After 10 coffee purchases, you’re eligible for a free wish’”, he mumbles, reading the text printed white on black aloud. “‘This offer is not transferable.’ What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that only you can redeem your reward, not anyone else. Would you like some coffee?”

He blinks at the bearded man, trying to ascertain whether he’s being serious, and is met with an almost bored stare. Weighing his options, the scales are only slightly tipped in favour of staying, but only because he knows Julien has a ‘visitor’ over today and there’s no other place he can study – the library is overrun by frantic procrastinators who left finishing their coursework assigned over the break to the absolute last minute, and Manu is coming back tomorrow. Apart from her and his roommates, there’s no one with whom he’s comfortable enough to invite himself over.

Especially not him. God knows why Mark even considered him for a brief second.

Looks like he’ll have to deal with this awkwardness if he wants to get any work done whatsoever. “Alright then. What do you sell?”

“Coffee”, comes the curt answer.

Mark rubs his eyes in exhaustion. He’s beginning to understand why there’s no other customers here. “Sure. Yes. A coffee, then.”

“That’ll be…” The employee trails off while frowning down at his wristwatch. “…um, about £7.92.”

“For one coffee?”

“It’s free refills, son.”

Oh, so maybe this is an American chain. That would explain quite a bit. Mark considers whether he’s staying long enough to get the most out of his money, but seeing as the bloke doesn’t seem the chattiest type and he’s unlikely to get interrupted, he decides it’s worth it. Still, there’s something he simply can’t let go. “… what do you mean, ‘about’ £7.92?”

“Are you paying cash or card?”

Alright then.

The next ultimatum: if the coffee turns out dogshite, he’s never coming back. He’d rather travel an increased distance to a normal coffee shop than to have to deal with this nonsense. Wordlessly, he sets down a £10 note and scoops the change into his wallet before watching the obviously American guy (and maybe the chain imports all their workers, who knows) pour a cup of the darkest coffee he’s ever seen. He unceremoniously sets it down in front of him and makes no indication of mentioning neither cream nor sugar. He’s lucky Mark prefers his energy supply as-is.

“Ta”, Mark mutters and scurries away, glad to escape that hard stare. To make sure he’s not being scammed, he takes a quick sip of the fragrant liquid and is surprised at how pleasant the taste is. Minimal bitterness, a gentle, almost floral note, and just strong enough to satisfy his craving.

Well, crap.

Looks like he’ll have to come back after all.

.

~*~

.

“Did you guys know the old coffee shop closed?”, Mark voices his thoughts into the middle of a medium-sized food war between Manu and Timur involving entirely too many packets of salt.

“The one on campus?”, Manu asks and accidentally elbows Julien in the ribs, causing him to actually look up from his phone for once.

“No, the one halfway to our dorm.”

“I was there last week”, Timur pipes up, making him furrow his brows. A week can’t be enough to refurnish the entire café, let alone switch owners completely. “Is it closed now?”

“There’s a different one instead. It was dead when I went, but the coffee’s good. The bloke serving me was weird.”

“Look at you, stringing multiple sentences together”, Julien chimes in, grinning. “Something novel must’ve happened for you to even bring it up. Was the dude hot?”

“Because that’s the only reason anyone would ever get excited about anything”, says Manu drily. “We can check it out if it’s good, even if the employees suck. Not like we have to socialise with them.”

Mark shrugs and regrets mentioning the café in the first place – it feels somehow personal, whether it’s to do with the odd experience overall or the fact that he ended up staying more than three hours. His productivity was through the roof, the calm atmosphere helped immensely and the thought of his loud friends – as much as he appreciates them – invading his newfound hideout isn’t one he particularly enjoys.

It turned out that the employee wasn’t so bad after all: as soon as Mark considered asking for more coffee, he appeared right by his side and filled his mug again, without bothering him at all. Still, Julien would complain about him and Timur might agree and Manu is likely to judge his impolite manner, and Mark wouldn’t be able to defend him. Even if he doesn’t mind the silent company.

For the moment, he needn’t bother with these thoughts as his friends are wholly occupied with arguing over some internet memes (and Mark remembers vividly how they all had to talk Julien down from nibbling at their laundry detergent pods), so nothing could be further from their minds than sitting down and actually studying for their degrees.

Not that they’re bad students, quite the opposite, they’re just not as… ambitious as Mark. Some have called him obsessed, yes, and he can’t quite refute it, but he prefers to call it ‘determined’. There have been few who are able to keep up with him, which is probably partly the reason why he’s made friends with people from completely different departments. He tends to be a loner in most classes, which suits him just fine.

Well. Most classes.

.

“I would give my left bollock for you.”

Mark certainly doesn’t appreciate the imagery. He hands over the photocopied sheet to the bloke nearly bouncing in delight before shuffling after his fellow students into the lecture hall. Closely followed, of course. “Make sure to change enough details”, he repeats the reminder, earning a scoff.

“I’ll make it illegible, babe, don’t worry.” James plops down next to him, stretching and taking up too much space. “You’re the only reason I’ll actually get credit for this course.”

Oh, Mark is very aware of this fact. He lets his seat neighbour prattle on as he takes out his materials, lines up his pens, and waits for the lecture to start. If he were pressed to explain how he ended up in this position, with a chatterbox glued to his side too lazy to do any of the coursework, he wouldn’t have a concise answer. Other than his inability to say no.

The problem is that James knows exactly who to befriend. Mark is naturally drawn to the overachievers in each class and carefully selects his group for projects, going by people who do put the time and work in to get a good grade – anything where students are meant to collaborate is 30% actual work and 70% politics. The right people tend to listen to him whenever he knows better, because they’re interested in improving and learning, they tend to go along with his division of tasks, because he distributes them fairly and suited to everyone’s skills, and they tend to work best independently, so they can get it done even without excessive communication.

And James? He follows the same strategy as Mark, except that he’s a leech. He latches onto the teacher’s pets, chooses the easiest tasks, always volunteers for presentations (meaning he’ll just have to regurgitate what his group produced), and bribes his groupmates so they don’t throw him out. Whether it’s snacks or drinks after class, whether it’s attention and compliments, or playing matchmaker: he knows how to make himself useful in all aspects other than his studies.

He’s a clown. He makes everyone laugh and worms his way into their hearts so they would feel bad about calling him out. Not having to do any work is his reward for asking questions everyone’s thinking but doesn’t dare ask for fear of looking stupid in front of the prof.

Obviously, James has latched onto him ever since they crossed paths in chem last semester, and Mark considered dropping the current class when he found out that he was in it as well. Even worse, James began asking him for homework, giving excuses like having had no time, not being able to write it down concisely, and so on – and though Mark initially refused, classmates approached him and gently nudged him towards sharing his results with James. Just to be nice. Just to help him. He’s such a good guy after all.

So Mark’s homework gets copied and passed along. And James’ fondness of him only grows.

During the long, meaningless rant interspersed with an impressive amount of curse words, he perks up at a quiet: “Wait, this one doesn’t make any sense.”

His pride won’t let him ignore it. “Which one?”

James points at one of Mark’s answers, a complicated equation. “Shouldn’t that be on top?”

“The denominator?”

An uncertain glance. He points again. “This.”

“You mean the bottom fraction? That’s the denominator, yes. And it is where it should be.”

James frowns, indubitably not content with the reply but possibly unsure how to voice his dissatisfaction.

“Trust me, it’s correct. Just copy it.”

“But I want to understand it.”

Fat chance. No way did he get any of the previous homework without having engaged with the subject matter at all, so it’s impossible for him to work it out, even if Mark explained it. Which he doesn’t want to. Because he figures it’d be like explaining string theory to a brick wall. He’s saved by the prof’s entry, knowing James at least has the decency to shut up during class, and hopes he can simply slip away afterwards.

It turns out, however, James is fully aware of his biggest weakness. “Do you have a bit of time after? You think you can explain it to me? Please?”

Yikes.

Not only is Mark burning to show him how wrong he is, he’s also entirely unable to refuse a plea for help. And there’s no doubt James knows this. He can’t keep getting away with it, he’s exploiting Mark enough as it is without offering much – if anything – in return, plus it’s obvious the endeavour is futile and doomed from the start. And this is disregarding the possibility of James suggesting more meetings in the future. So, like the reasonable adult he is, Mark replies: “Sure.”

And has never wanted to kick himself more.

.

If this bloke really is the only employee they have, it’s no wonder the place is dead yet again. They stare at each other, unblinking, and seem equally dismayed about each other’s presence. “Hi”, says Mark after a few seconds of tense silence.

The old man is wearing the same clothes as last time, apron and jeans – even his disinterested expression hasn’t changed. “I’m Sam”, he offers completely out of the blue, surprising Mark with how unexpected the introduction is. “I figured you shouldn’t have to keep calling me ‘this bloke’ in your head.”

“… Mark”, he responds hesitantly.

“Is that a threat?” Sam barks out a brief, mirthless laugh. “I know. You wrote it on your loyalty card.”

He most certainly did not, but only because the card is solid black with white text. “Look, I’m just here to buy coffee.”

“You brought a friend.” Sam indicates James who already sat down by a window and is absorbed in his phone for the time being – and for all his faults, Mark has to admit that at least his (limited) attention is always on the person he’s talking to; he’s never seen his fellow student even checking for messages during a conversation.

“Not really”, he says nonetheless and is reasonably sure they’re out of earshot. “We just have chem together.”

“You have chemistry, hm?”

He wonders if it’s possible to set someone on fire with a hard look alone. “Just sell me the bloody coffee.”

“For the both of you?” Sam turns around and studies the clock on the wall behind him, whispering to himself for a few seconds before announcing: “That’ll be roughly £15.84.”

“Fine.” He holds out a card, scowling when Sam makes no move to take it.

“No complaint?”

“Is it gonna be cheaper if I do? Besides, he’s paying. So I don’t care.”

“Oh. Then it’ll be £22.43.”

“Why is it -” As quickly as his annoyance spikes, it ebbs again. It’s obvious there’s no logic behind all this nonsense, yet he still tries: “If it’s cheaper for me, I’ll pay and get the money back from him.”

“That’s illegal. You’ve already told me he’s paying.”

“I’m not trying to buy liquor, why would it -” Deep breaths. He already told James about how good the coffee is, and if they go anywhere else, someone else might see them. He’s strongly incentivised to stay. “Fine. Here.”

Sam runs the card and, as last time, pours two very unimpressive mugs before, to Mark’s horror, reaching into the display case and pulling out two slices of cakes on their own respective plates. The chocolate one is drooping and threatening to fall over if anyone looked at it wrong, and the sponge cake seems suspiciously wet. There’s no telling how long they’ve been sitting there. “It’s on the house”, Sam says, almost begrudgingly, as if he was the inconvenienced one.

Mark considers asking for forks or napkins but decides that the shorter their interaction, the healthier his sanity. “Ta, mate. Do you need my loyalty card?”

“No need.”

Fair enough, though he’s not sure what the point of it is, then. He carries the coffees and cakes over in two trips and wonders how he’ll get rid of the sickly-looking bakeware without Sam noticing. When James eventually tries his piece and doesn’t keel over immediately though, Mark gives his own a try.

It’s the best chocolate cake he’s ever had. And he’s never been madder in his life.

.

~*~

.

At some point, it turns into stubbornness. There’s a few mannerisms, the odd hobby and some of his preferences which started out as either ironic, as guilty pleasures or as things he actively disliked, but the more he engaged, the more he developed the attitude of: you know what? This is mine and I don’t care what anyone says about it.

He’s starting to adopt Leo Coffee. The awkward vibe about it, the indecipherable employee, the delicious food and drinks – it holds its own charm in a way, and he’s stopped wondering about being the only patron. It’s perfect for studying or unwinding, and does wonders for his stressed soul. He’s been returning regularly now, about once a week, and even brought James with him a second time to argue about yet another homework he criticised. The atmosphere renders Mark calmer, more patient, and so he endured the other man’s presence for much longer than he would’ve thought possible. They stayed for almost three hours the first time, even longer the second.

Just to make sure he’s not being a nuisance, he tried to check the coffee shop’s opening hours and wasn’t even sure what he expected to find. They’re listed nowhere, of course, and Sam switched topics the instant he brought it up.

So now the only people he has to drag in here are his friends, who have somehow evaded his efforts so far – but not today. Timur and Julien promised to come even though Manu has to go to some recital or other, meaning she’s excused. For now.

Eyes idly following pedestrians outside, he’s resting his chin in his palm and waiting. Being the only punctual one has always meant boredom, so he’s lucky his mind is imaginative enough to keep him occupied in the meantime. His train of thought meanders through all the topics occupying his brain recently, how the new guy Julien is seeing is basically moving into their apartment, how Timur keeps hanging around the wrong crowd, how unfair it is that Manu aces all her courses with so little effort, how he happened to run into James during his break today and almost suggested spending it together -

His phone buzzes, interrupting his aimless daydreaming and prompting him to check the colourful screen.

I got ambushed, writes Julien and it’s unclear whether he’s being cryptic on purpose. Mark sends a question mark and has to wait a minute or two for the explanation: Sudden date night, looks like Netflix & chill boys ;) sry for ditching you but the shop isn’t gonna go anywhere right?

An eye roll later, Mark responds with a simple TMI.

I don’t think I’ll make it either, adds Timur, a friend wants to yarn bomb the stature by City Hall and they need me as lookout.

This one gets points for creativity at least. He sighs and reassures them with a quick sure, no problem before commending himself for not going home first to drop his bag off. Now he can just study instead. Woohoo.

Another brief vibration, this notification from a completely different group chat, one Mark apparently forgot to leave once the project was done: @Mark: are there carrots in carrot cake?

The number is translated to ‘GirthControl’, so there’s just one person this could be. He stares at his screen. Is that a trick question? Yes, he feels confident enough to affirm to James.

Ah okay. Thanks babe.

This is when it occurs to him: Wait, why did you only ask me?

Silence. Whatever quest James is currently on, it apparently required Mark’s input and Mark’s input only.

He can’t help but laugh at the absurdity and suddenly feels a lot less abandoned. In the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter whether his friends don’t rank him at the top of their priority list as long as he’s on it somewhere. And knowing that he’s left a lasting impression on James beyond being the lad who supplies him with homework is oddly reassuring.

When he approaches the counter, Sam once again materialising out of nowhere (at least that’s what it feels like – he’s always there when Mark needs him and never at any other time), he’s decided to not get weirded out by anything today. “A coffee”, he orders confidently and inspects the haphazardly thrown together bagels featured prominently in the infamous display case. “And a bagel.” He doesn’t bother specifying, Sam will choose for him anyway.

After peering at the digital alarm clock on the counter, Sam announces the approximate value of the aforementioned items and then squints at him. “Weren’t you going to meet with somebody?”

Mark half-shrugs. “Kinda. They’re busy though.”

“Mind if I join you?” He must notice Mark’s surprise because he adds: “It’s your ninth time here. Would be a shame if we didn’t get to talk before you’ve filled up your loyalty card, don’t you think?”

“Alright”, he agrees and waits until Sam has poured himself a mug as well before they sit down at Mark’s usual table – tucked away in a corner but close enough to the windows to be able to do people-watching if his eyes need a rest from staring at textbooks or screens all day long. It’s the first time he examines the man opposite him more closely: the distinguished features, greying beard, wild mane of hair. He looks too… important to be working in a coffee shop, like he was destined for greatness. Mark can’t picture him angry even if he exudes a bitter, cynical aura which he’s likely to hide behind sarcasm.

“How did you end up here?”, he wants to know, genuinely curious.

“Good question.” Sam takes a few sips of his excellent coffee as he ponders how to reply. “It’s a temporary thing, that’s for sure.” He leaves it at that. “What do you study?”

Mark eyes the disorganised heap of books keeping his bagel company and sighs. “At this point, I don’t even know anymore.”

“Sounds fun.”

“It is”, he emphasises. “I love studying.”

“Where’s the problem then?”

There is none, he wants to say yet his mouth refuses to comply. He stares into the dark liquid, running his thumb over even porcelain and then decides to sod it – he asked, right? And somehow, it’s always easier to unload on a complete stranger. “I feel like it’s all I’m doing.”

“You keep others at a distance on purpose.” He nods, even though it wasn’t a question. “So don’t be surprised if they do the same.”

“I’m not.” The warmth seeps into his palms as he wraps his hands around the mug, providing as much comfort as Sam’s gentle tone. “I just want it to be different.”

“Make an effort. It’s never to late to change. I’m sure your friends will appreciate it. Put some trust in them, they’re your friends for a reason.” He nods again, lost in thought. “Have you figured out what you’re going to wish for next time?”

He scoffs, amused. There isn’t a single thing he can imagine himself wanting from the old man before him, so he’s unlikely to wish for anything at all. “No. Not yet.”

“Well, think about it. I believe in you, son.” With that, Sam downs the last of his own coffee and gets up, ready to walk back behind the counter and only stops when Mark calls his name.

“Is there someone you care about?”

It’s the first time he sees Sam smile. “Yes. There were two, but I lost one – so I keep the other one twice as close without trying to be suffocating. It’s hard. But remember, Mark, it’s never too late to tell the people in your life how you really feel.” And then he’s gone, disappeared into the back, leaving behind a faint nostalgia tinted with hope.

There’s no challenge from which Mark has shied away in his life, and this one isn’t going to be his first.

.

~*~

.

The word fuck on his lips, Mark bursts into the café like a panicked chicken. He’s juggling two bags and his phone, his frantic typing only interrupted by the need to breathe now and then, and nearly drops it when he slams his book bag to the ground at the counter. “Sorry, one sec”, he addresses an unimpressed-looking Sam as he dials a number and curses once more when it’s not immediately picked up. “Can I get a coffee to go?”, he asks, out of breath, as the dial tone beeps in his ear.

“I don’t serve people who are on the phone”, Sam replies, as calm as ever.

Mark mentally increases the number of people who’d be dead if his looks could kill by one. “This is the worst thing to ever happen to me”, he says gravely and hangs up after thirty seconds have passed. “I’m gonna fail this class.”

“An event without precedence, I assume?”

“You have no bloody idea. But yes, a coffee please, I need to go back to the library and get an entire semester’s worth of material because I’m too fucking dumb to read a syllabus correctly. This has never happened to me, I have one day to write this assignment and I’m lacking so much -”

“Can you give me the time?”, Sam interrupts him nonchalantly and stares at the screen of Mark’s phone as he holds it up for him to read. “Thanks. Let’s say £2.63.”

“And I can’t study at home because Timur has his friends over, and Manu is in a panic herself, and I know the library is going to be overrun by people who treat the study rooms like their social media accounts by loudly oversharing all the time, and I have no idea how I’m supposed to do this. Maybe I’ll just accept fate and fail. No clue how I’m gonna tell my parents.”

“Your loyalty card.”

Distracted, Mark fishes it out of his wallet and puts it on the counter. “And the other people in chem aren’t answering or are no help at all, I don’t get it, I’ve done group projects with them and still they don’t have the courtesy to help me out in this. It was a genuine mistake, as stupid as it is, and I’m just -”

“You need to write it down.”

He’s briefly interrupted in his rant to frown at the black paper card. “Write what?”

“Your wish.”

“But you won’t be able to read it. I only have black or blue pens.”

“Doesn’t matter. Write it down.”

With an irritated sigh, Mark takes out a pen and thinks for a second, the majority of his attention elsewhere still. Eventually, he scribbles someone who cares, not that it’d be legible in any way, and hands it to Sam. “That’s it? I’m not sure this reward system is going to pay off in the long term, you know.”

Sam holds the card up to the light as if he was inspecting a bank note and nods, apparently satisfied. “You’re all set. Good luck.”

“Ta, I’m gonna need it.” Mark shoves all his belongings in various pockets, hoping he’ll remember where he put them, and grabs the to-go cup. And then, without so much as a goodbye, he storms back out, steeling himself for an all-nighter certain to mess up sleep schedule for days, if not weeks.

He ascribes it to his flustered state that he doesn’t look up as he exits the coffee shop, and promptly runs into someone, collides with what feels like a solid wall. His coffee gets squished and sloshes over, soaking the front of his clothes – fortunately, it’s not hot at all, more like lukewarm which is odd in and of itself. He swears again, yanking his phone out of his pocket before it gets wet also and it’s only due to another hand grabbing the device that it doesn’t plummet to the ground straightaway.

“Oh bollocks, I’m so sorry”, says the wall he ran into which turns out to be none other than James. Of all people. “Are you alright? Is it hot?”

“No, no, I’m fine”, Mark presses through clenched teeth, the stress slowly overwhelming him. “But now I have to go home and change before I can start on this stupid fucking -”

“Babe. Calm down. What’s wrong?”

He takes a deep breath and ignores the quickly cooling wet patches on his clothes for the moment. “I still have to do the report. I didn’t realise we were meant to -”

“Oh, you haven’t done it? At all?”

“No! No, I didn’t, and everyone else is partnered up so I can’t just join someone else, so I’ll have to -”

“I’m not paired up.”

“Sure, once I’m done I’ll put your name on there, whatever, but that doesn’t -”

“Babe. Mark. Listen to me.” James waves in front of his face with a slight grin. “I did it. It’s almost done. I’ll put down that we did it together and you’re good.”

He stares at James, mouth open, for several unflattering seconds. “Wait – you… how?”

“I can show you, but it’s at my place. My roommate is around your height, he can lend you some clothes. Let’s go.”

And yet again, Mark finds himself unable to refuse. He drinks what’s left of his coffee in one go (and it really is tepid, he must’ve gotten really lucky), tosses the cup in the nearest bin and leaves Leo Coffee behind without a single glance back.

.

James’ flat looks exactly like Mark would’ve imagined it, only louder. Double bass and epic vocals are permeating every room, and all available horizontal surfaces are littered with stuff. The walls are plastered with posters, some funny, some pretty, some morbid, and it reeks of weed.

A small part of Mark feels right at home, oddly enough.

“Turn the fucking music down!”, James yells at the top of his lungs, throwing him an apologetic look, clearly uncomfortable with the state of it all and ignorant as to Mark’s growing amusement.

Somewhere, a door opens and the shrill guitars become clearer. “Whot?”, someone replies just as loudly.

“Exactly!”, is James’ deafening reply, and a few seconds later, the melodies decrease to a reasonable level. Another bloke joins them, tall and well-built with an unkempt beard and a band shirt as well as no socks.

“Who’s that? Is he allowed to be here?”, asks James’ roommate and regards Mark with suspicion.

“That was Sabaton, wasn’t it?”, Mark inquires back. “Primo Victoria?”

The dude’s entire face lights up like a Christmas tree. “Oh, a connoisseur. He can stay, James, I like him already.”

And while the two of them exchange more words, Mark goes exploring. He ends up in what must be James’ room which is covered in paper, be it books or hand-written notes, and most of it seems related to chemistry in some way. Curious, Mark looks around until he finds a spiral-bound notepad titled with the name of the course they’re sharing this semester. Contrary to his expectations, it’s far from empty – not only does it contain copious lecture notes, it also features every assignment they’d been given since the start of the course.

Solved differently from Mark’s own answers.

Confused, he checks more closely and finds a recurring pattern: equations that are struck-through, calculations lacking several steps in between which wouldn’t be accepted by the prof this way, and very little text. It looks like the writings of someone who certainly understands the material but simply has a hard time putting his thoughts in order, putting his ideas into neat writing.

He’s been immersed for several minutes when James finally joins him, and when he does, Mark holds up his notes and greets him with a simple: “What the fuck?”

James doesn’t seem to realise where Mark’s problem lies and shrugs. “Yeah, I’m a hopeless case, I know.”

“No. No, you’re really not. This is – look here, if you just shift this around, you end up with the correct result. You’re like 95% of the way there, you just didn’t finish it.”

“Oh.” James blinks at him. “I guess. It’s kinda like that with the report. I was hoping you could help me write the conclusion, I’ve got the rest, but -”

“Sure. Yes.” Mark’s agreeableness seems to astonish his host. “That’ll take an hour, maybe two. And I won’t have to pull an all-nighter. James, you have no idea how much you saved me.”

And James, bless his soul, is blushing. “Well. No problem. I owe you anyway. Right?” He suddenly remembers he’s holding spare clothing and vaguely gestures in Mark’s direction. “You, uh, you can change in the bathroom. Don’t mind the cat, she just loves staring at naked people. Dom found out the hard way.”

Twenty minutes later, Mark is reading through James’ report with a ball of fur purring on his lap, faint metal playing in the background. There’s a lot of grammar and spelling to be fixed, as well as phrasing, but content-wise, it’s near flawless. He’s smiling to himself, enjoying the way James turns almost bashful whenever he compliments his work, and remembers Sam’s words from the second-to-last time he visited the café: it’s never too late.

He’s definitely treating James to dinner after he’s saved his arse like this.

.

The next time Mark passes by that familiar spot, the next time Mark develops a craving for caffeine and some peace and quiet, the next time he plans to go to Leo Coffee, all he finds is the same coffee shop which has been here for years already, the afternoon crowd populating the tables and several diligent employees taking care of the customers.

Somehow, Mark isn’t the least bit surprised.

[flerkenkiddingme]

🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊

*vibrating at a frequency only dogs can hear* FINALLYYYYY I have a chance to talk about them!! i’ve given little details on and off the server but no one’s asked me to elaborate so forgive me if i go a little wild here oof

so i’m planning a series of oneshots called Team Avatar, and it will consist of little moments of each avatar’s, well, Team Avatar. We know of only four canon Team Avatars, so the others will be pretty much all OCs. The ones I’m currently working on are Yangchen’s and Roku’s squads, or as I decided to call them in a 2am vision, the Gang-chen and the Ro-krew. 

*ba-dum-tssss*

ok i’ll stop being a geek and get on topic. I also planned to give some of the avatars siblings, and sure enough, roku and yangchen are the ones i did that to. Since you sent 6 pens, I’ll give 6 details about each of the Ava-Sibs. Arbitrary and lame idea? Maybe, but it’s a good writing exercise, I was taught last year.

For Yangchen, I wanted to make her the baby of the family, so I gave her two older brothers. The oldest brother, I named Khetsun.

1. He loved picking up Yangchen when she was little. He does it as an adult when he wants to annoy her a little.

2. His regular job was making fruit pies and other similar baked goods at a bakery he opened up a short flight away from the Eastern Air Temple.

3. He was in a poly relationship with a nonbender woman and an enby from Omashu.

4. He got his tattoos after creating a new airbending move where you use wind to make a slide. It was used therefore after as a way to save someone from falling, but Khetsun created it to transport trays of desserts from table to table.

5. He loved to travel, and he always wrote his family telling them all about the places he went and the things he experienced. 

6. He’s a bit secretive, and it takes awhile to get him to open up, but he cares so much for his people.

The middle brother, I named Passang.

1. He got his tattoos first out of all the kids. They were all talented in their own ways, but he practiced a lot.

2. His regular job was a veterinarian for bison, flying lemurs, and other animals any Air Nomads found and took care of.

3. He was aromantic and never got married to anyone. He told Yangchen before anyone else.

4. He had a bit of a temper, but it was nothing compared to his sister’s.

5. He had always felt closest to Yangchen. Passang loved his whole family, of course, but she was his confidante, and he hers. While he did tease her a fair amount, they had very few big fights.

6. In contrast to Khetsun’s introversion, Passang is more extroverted and can sometimes be an oversharer. He would be the guy that sits next to someone on public transport and by the time he hits his stop, gets invited to his seatmate’s baby shower.

So that’s Yangchen’s brothers, they’re a pretty cool bunch. Admittedly I haven’t spent as much time on her Team Avatar as Roku’s, but I’m going backwards from Korra and his will appear sooner than hers. 

Moving right along, I’ve elected to make Roku an eldest sibling, and gave him a younger sister, whom I named Kami.

1. She’s a flaming homosexual (literally), and she falls for her best friend since before they could walk. Rangi was pretty much her hero.

2. The two of them were also friends with Ta Min, the woman Roku later marries. So Kami’s seen the mutual pining from both sides and, at her desperate pleas to suck it up and ask the other out, whoever she’s teasing will immediately call the best friend over. It shuts her down pretty quick.

3. She is technically Roku’s first cousin, but they were raised by the same family at young ages, so they think of each other as brother and sister and definitely bicker like such.

4. Deep down, she used to wish it was her who got all the elements and the past lives and the Avatar State. After Roku returned prematurely from learning the elements due to [REDACTED], she proclaimed she was relieved it wasn’t her, but still secretly worried for him.

5. Once Sozin made his law criminalizing gay marriage, she and her fiancée moved to the Water Tribe.

6. She had a very sharp memory and loved reading, as her mother was the palace librarian, but possessed very little common sense. She’s the living embodiment of “fuck around and find out.” A hereditary quality, as it turns out.

So that’s all you probably want to hear right now, but more asks are welcome if you want to hear more!!

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

The whole of 85

Lance was quietly happy as he sat in Keith's lap with Fern in his hold. His husband wasn't quite so happy. Shiro had decided he needed to represent Voltron at the hand over, because apparently it would be more professional. Despite wanting to put distance between himself and Keith, so they could talk properly instead of just sexing out their issues, if the choice was between sitting next to Shiro and a sleeping Shalad, or sitting in Keith's lap and being a distraction so the two alphas didn't lose it at each other, he'd definitely take option b. Nuzzling Keith's neck, he let out a sleepy sigh. Fern was fast asleep against his chest, and he was honestly going to miss the baby girl. He had no idea how to raise a girl, but she was just so adorable and he already knew he was going to be a sobbing mess once he had to say goodbye "You can sleep, we have another 5 vargas until we're there" "No, I'm ok" "Baby, I know you're still sleepy" "I'll sleep on the way back" "Or you could sleep now?" "Keith, if he says he doesn't want to sleep, he doesn't want to sleep" Shiro. No. He could handle this just fine, and it wasn't the alphas place to stick his nose in, even if all he wanted to do was nap, it wasn't happening, not now at least "Shiro, its fine. I don't need you telling Keith off. Keith, I'm sleepy but I don't want to sleep yet. I kind of want to spend more time with Fern before we have to say goodbye" "You really care for her, don't you?" "How can you not? She's so beautiful. If we didn't have the boys..." "I know, you'd adopt her in a heartbeat... I'm sorry you have to say goodbye" "It's not your fault, and it's not like he'd and Shalad aren't going to a loving family" "That's true... maybe one day we'll have a little girl of our own?" "Mhmm, and she's going to be daddy's princess" Keith smiled at him, but it was barely a tick before it was fading "You two know you can't have more children, not until things start to settle down and the rogue Galra forces are dealt with. Having two kids on the castle is dangerous enough" "We know... it's hard leaving our boys as it is" "And I wouldn't be able to cope... I can barely cope with the boys as it is. My heart feels like it's breaking each time we say goodbye to them" "I know baby, I feel the same way..." Shiro sighed, and Lance's omega threw up its wall. That sigh definitely couldn't mean anything good "Realistically Lance, you're not coping and we can all see it. Both of you need to take your roles much more seriously" Lance was dying to say "who died and made you king?", but it wasn't worth the trouble, so he bit down on his lip "Lance is doing absolutely everything he needs to do to fulfil his role as the Red Paladin" "And what about you? You're so busy chasing after Lance and trying to fix this relationship you have with him, that your duties are falling to me" "My duties are falling to you because you decided you had to take over. Just because you can't pilot Black, it doesn't mean you have to try and control every detail of Voltron's existence" Lance groaned, he didn't want things to get even worse. Not when they were all trapped in Black, with basically nowhere to escape to "Seriously. This isn't the place or time for this, especially not in front of the children" "Really? Then when?" "When we aren't in front of the kids. Shiro, you need to loosen the reins and lighten up" "That kind of attitude is exactly why I can't. It's Keith fault we're transporting two children across the galaxy" "What did you just say?" Keith's scent filled with bitter anger, his chest seemingly vibrating with a barely suppressed growl "Will you both stop it!" "No. Not until Shiro takes back what he just said. If there was any other way we could have played that mission..." "The other way would be calling through to the castle when you first realised something was wrong" "We couldn't. There was an electrical storm and we didn't have time to waste!" "Then you should have figured something else out" "You know what Shiro, I've had just about enough of you. Lance is doing what needs to be done and I know my duties have been falling on you, but if you weren't handling the diplomatic side of things, just how would you be contributing to things? Be lazing around the castle? Or by making passes at my husband?" Baring his teeth, Keith was furious, which was scaring the quiznak out of Lance as he was holding Fern. He could take a hit and be fine, but she couldn't "How is that any different to what you're doing? You're putting Lance in front of everything, including your own health. He's not mentally well, and you're exhausted from always being dragged down with him. We can all see it. We all know it, but no one says anything because Lance is so easy to upset these days. Honestly, the Omega he's become is one that relies on you and doesn't even try for himself anymore. What happened to the Lance that never gave up! That never let anyone see him cry? That always tried his hardest" "If you think Lance isn't trying in his own ways, you're delusional" "Well his ways aren't good enough. I've been speaking to Coran, and we've decided to run a 5 quintant long trial of each Paladins individual strengths and weaknesses, through procession of the training levels. Each session is going to be monitored, and we will be going through the footage as a group" That sounded like a terrible idea to Lance. No one likes having their faults or flaws pointed out and made public knowledge "There will also be complete medical scans for everyone. Things like miscarriages and bleeding are things we as a team need to know about"

"Why?" Taking a shaky breath, Lance placed Fern in Keith's lap as he slid to stand "Why, what?" "Why does what's happening with my body have to be public knowledge?! You have no idea what it's like to lose a pup! You have no idea how shameful it makes you feel, especially when you're already a freak as it is! I'm tired of everyone laughing at me! The stupid omega who killed his first pups, nearly killed his second lot, and then lost another! You have no idea what it's like! And you want me to make these things public! What else do you "need" to know? Each time my milk leaks through my shirt? Or each time I slick? What I eat? What I think? These things aren't your business! Things between me and Keith have sucked and they've also been incredibly precious! He makes me happy and he's so good with the boys. My life's finally getting back on track and now you want to know things you have no right asking about!" "He makes you happy, but when's the last time you sat down and asked him how he felt? When's the last time you took care of him? Lance, your mental health is all over the place and you're running yourself into the ground. Something needs to change before you do something you regret" "Like what?" "Hurt yourself. Hurt someone on the team. Hurt your boys. Pick one" "I'm trying! I just keep fucking it up! Life doesn't come with a manual, and we all fuck up! It comes with from it, even if we try our hardest, we can still make mistakes!" "Why don't you get it? Everyone is worried about you" "Well they don't need to be!" "Then you and Keith talked things through? You know how hard it's been for him without you? And he knows you've been crying yourself sleep? Or about you're late night walks? And the whispered conversations with Hunk?" "Keith knows! He knows exactly how I feel about the last three movements! He knows. God! Why do you alphas have to be so cruel!?" "I'm not being cruel. I'm being concerned" "Your concern isn't wanted or needed, so back off!" Pausing, Lance was furious. Looking to Keith for support, his husband opened and closed his mouth before looking down and away from him. It felt like a slap to the face. He thought Keith hadn't jumped in because he respected he could look after himself and speak for himself, now he wasn't so sure "This is no conversation to be having in front of the kids. I'll take Fern into the cargo bay with me" Picking the girl back up, her eyes were wide as she stared up at him. At least she liked him... and at the moment, other than Black, she was the only one he wanted to be with. Despite the fact he'd intentionally stayed awake to keep the two alphas from going feral towards each other, Lance didn't feel any guilt as he carried Fern into Black's cargo hold.

Picking the furthermost corner, Lance settled down with Fern, the small girl still staring up at him, triggering his maternal side and his need to soothe her. Forcing his words not to shake, he smiled through his pain "You're so perfect baby girl. You're going to be a knock out when you grow up, but you're going to forget all about the silly human who fell in love with you the moment he saw you, aren't you. I'll never forget you though, and if you ever need someone to come kick some galactic butt for you, I'll be there... look at you. You have no idea at all what I'm saying. You're like "human, I don't get what you're saying ". I know honey. I know. I'm kind of pathetic, aren't I? I'm always making everyone worry. These last three movements have been really hard, but I really did think I was doing better, or at least better than I have been... or something. I guess I'm babbling..."

Both Shiro and Keith left him alone for the rest of the trip. Despite trying to sleep, his heart wouldn't stop racing, and his imagination ran away with him. He hoped both Keith and Shiro weren't still fighting, and that Shalad hadn't woken because of it... but, the not so small part of him, also hoped that Keith had come to defence and put Shiro in his place, even if that seemed unlikely. When the door to Black's cargo bay slides open, Lance uses the wall to steady himself as he rises. He can smell Keith's still angry, which causes his chest to clench painfully, each lung full of air feels like icy water and his heart feels like someone's firmly crushing it in their hand. It was then that he realised that though he wanted his husband to come talk things things through, he really didn't want to see him, and that all he was really feeling was betrayed. Raising Fern to his shoulder, he walked towards Keith "Lance..." Brushing past him hurt, but if he opened his mouth and actually blurted out his feelings, he'd only hurt Keith more. After all, wasn't that what Shiro really meant? That no one actually wanted to see him or talk to him. That they were all secretly sick of him. Seeing that Black's mouth was already open, Lance made a beeline for the outside. The coldness of the fresh morning numbing his face as his eyes watered. No. He wasn't going to cry...

Gathered about 30 metres in front of Black was a small group of villagers. A couple stood a little forward of the group, both smiling brilliantly as he approached with Fern. Coming to stand half a step to the left side of Shiro, Lance lowered Fern back down so she was against his chest "Lance, this is F'or and Ni've, they are the adopting Fern and Shalad" "It's a pleasure to meet you" "You too Paladin of Voltron. Today you bless us with much happiness" Lance shifted his weight, not sure what exactly to say "Shalad, these are your new parents. Lance, perhaps you would like to pass them their new daughter" "Right, of course. She's really adorable, and such a well behaved little girl. She's drinking from a bottle and she sleeps through most nights. Honestly, she's just perfect" F'or stepped forward, the woman gently taking Fern from her. With their own slight greenish tinge, he had no doubt that both Fern and Shalad would blend right in "That she is. Is she named?" "We've been calling her Fern. Fern's are a plant where we are from, and with her beautiful green skin, it seemed to suit her. Of course, you know, you can change her name. We never knew what her real name was" "Fern... I will think about it. Shalad, we prepared a room just for you" Shalad didn't look happy about everything at all. He just awkwardly stood beside Shiro and Lance's heart was breaking for the boy. This was his new family... after he'd finally settled in with them and life on Olkarion "Sometimes he can be a bit shy, and he likes to test the boundaries, but under all of that, he's a good kid" "I'm sure this will be a big adjust to us all" Finally joining them, Keith stepped forward "We have a few things for her, bottles, nappies, clothes, formula. I don't know if it will come in handy..." Ni've smiled warmly as he accepted the bag Keith was holding out "Thank you. Thank you again. You have no idea how happy you have made us. Perhaps you would join us in celebration?" "Some other time, I'm afraid the rest of the Paladins would be quite jealous if we were to join you" "Yes. Oh yes. I suppose you are right. But one day soon?" "We would love to..." Sniffling Lance wiped at his eyes "Paladin, is something wrong?" "No! No... I'm just really happy for all of you..." Ni've gave a nervous laugh "It is not common for men to cry" "I'm like always crying, this is like normal. Gosh. I told myself I wouldn't..." Fanning his face, he cursed himself for crying. But he really was happy for them all "If you have any trouble or problems, please let us know. Voltron is here to help everyone, no matter how big or small the problem" "We shall. Please pass our regards onto Ryner, and thank her" "We will. Lance. Keith. It's time to go"

That was it. No more Fern. No more Shalad... Quiznak. He didn't want to say goodbye to Fern. If he had to say goodbye, he'd rather be the one being left behind. Forcing a smile, he nodded and turned, making it half a dozen steps before a small hand grabbed his and tugged hard. Turning to see Shalad staring up at him, Lance was completely confused as he squatted down to the boy's height "Shalad?" Leaning in, the boy pushed his lips against his and Lance nearly fell over backwards in shock "Sh-Shalad!" "You're the prettiest and best Paladin" Turning, Shalad ran back to his new parents and grabbed F'or's leg. What the heck was that? Shalad liked him? He thought he hated him! But he was the prettiest? He didn't get it all. Rising, he waved awkwardly before marching himself back to Black. Shalad liked him? If this was Earth, he wouldn't be surprised at all if the kid turned out to be an alpha, but Shalad's race didn't have secondary dynamics... so what the quiznak!? And wait, didn't the kid like Keith? So... but Keith was better than him in so many ways... the kid had just thrown him further into interval turmoil, even if his innocent gesture was rather cute.

* With Shiro politely declining the villages invitation to stay, it felt weird to be saying goodbye so suddenly to Shalad and Fern. It was just over. Just like that. Without even making sure they were alright... he could never do that to the pups, but he'd just left Shalad and Fern like it they were objects. And what was that exchange between Shalad and Lance? Since when were they that close? This whole situation didn't sit well with him, and his alpha was less than impressed their omega was holed up back in Black after vargas of hiding from them... not that Keith couldn't have just headed into the cargo hold and checked on him, instead of being stuck in a silent stalemate with Shiro until Shalad woke. Sinking down into his seat, Keith's hands went to Black's controls as Shiro cleared his throat "Aren't you going to talk to Lance?" "Why would I? If he wanted to talk, he'd be out here. Besides, the villagers might get the wrong idea if we hand around too long" "I guess I'll go talk to him" "Don't you dare. You've said enough" Easing the controls back, Black lifted from the planets surface with practiced ease. Her mental tendrils already gripping his mind in an attempt to understand why her Paladin was so angry and upset "I just said what we were all thinking" "No, you said what you were thinking. Lance's relationship with the others was just fine, now he's probably sitting in there thinking he's worthless and useless" "He's not going to grow as a person until he faces those fears for himself" "You still had no right to talk to him like that. You have no idea what he's been through and what he's trying to cope with" "That's because he isn't open like he should be. He jumps right to crying and doing something extreme" "No he doesn't. If you think that about him, then you have no idea. He hates crying in front of other people. He hates feeling like he's bringing the whole team down. He hates being made to feel inadequate, and you just shoved that in his face" "Oh yeah, why didn't you jump to his defence then? Why didn't you tell me I was wrong when Lance was still listening to us. Because you know I'm right" "He's an omega. He reacts and handles things different to an alpha. You of all people should know how cruel society is to alphas. He's had years of self inflicted abuse and fear over his secondary dynamic. I've worked my arse off to make him understand that it's ok to be an omega. That it doesn't make him worth any less than us. That here, omegas and alphas are equals" "But they're not. There are things an omega can never do, that an alpha can" "Outside of popping a knot, or using a command, what? What makes us really so much different?" "Omegas are by nature more fragile and emotional. That means when the time comes, they are more likely to think with their hearts instead of their heads. If Lance had been thinking, he would have known birthing two sons into this environment would be unnecessarily hard for all of us" "Are you serious!? Those are my kids! I love my kids. I want my kids. I am proud of my kids! I guess that makes me an omega for thinking with heart rather than my head, because at the end of the day, they and Lance come first" "And what happens if something was to happen to both you and Lance? Who does the responsibility of raising them fall to?" "We talked to the team. They swore they'd raise them and protect them" "They shouldn't have to" "You know man, I don't get you at all anymore. Even if you're supposed to be the Shiro before the "fake" one came along, you are still just as cold and cruel to Lance. He always liked you. He always admired you. He always made time for you and took the abuse and the blame from you, even when it wasn't his fault and you didn't see that. Some quintants I look at you, and I wonder how we were ever best friends, because if we were really best friends, you wouldn't be treating my husband so badly, and you wouldn't be trying to start fights" "I'm not trying to start a fight" "Tell that to your scent. You stink of anger, meaning you stink like rotten fish" Rotten fish wasn't quite right, but it definitely wasn't the nicest of smells "I was there for you man. I was there when you were struggling with your memories. When you couldn't sleep, and when you'd work out until you nearly passed out. I know it's been deca-phoebes, but for you, it's only been phoebes. Phoebes. Since you came back, you've thrown yourself into leading Voltron without knowing what we all went through. You say Lance needs help, but you do too, because you're not dealing with things either. That's why you keep yourself busy. Why, you run around doing what should be my job, because you can't man up and take responsibility or accept the fact that you can no longer pilot Black. Our lives moved on with the fake Shiro, and you know what, Lance was the very first to figure out something was off. He knew. He knew and he tried to help in his own way. Because that's all he ever wants to do. He wants to help and if it means self destructing so no one gets hurt, then that's what he chooses, every single time. So don't you dare lecture him or me, over things you know nothing about" Shiro pinched the bridge of his nose as he shook his head "The way things are right now, Voltron is barely a team" "We are a team. We're family. Family doesn't always have to talk to know their connected. To know that they'll be there for you. I never had a real family, and when dad died, I had no one. Falling in love with Lance, courting and bonding with him, starting a family with him, he taught me I had emotions and feelings I didn't even know I had. He knows I'm not good with words, and he understands. It's thanks to him that my mother and I can talk and get along. He helps me realise things for her perspective and helped me get over how mad I was at her leaving. So if you're going to keep talking about this and abusing Lance, you can just sit there and stay quiet" "You guys can't see how messed up things are because you're all too close" "Things might be messed up, but they work for us" "Obviously they don't if Lance isn't doing well" "Lance has a lot to deal with, or weren't you listening? You know what, I am done with this conversation. Don't even try talking to me until you've thought things through and you've thought about and accepted the fact that your own role has changed and without your arm, you will never be able to pilot Black again..." "My connection with her has gone. I no longer feel her like I did before, but in a way, she's still there, and I know my role in Voltron has changed" "Then it's time you accepted the limitations of it, and backed off" "If I backed off, nothing would ever be accomplished" Grinding his teeth together, Keith resisted the urge to punch Shiro. Shiro had decided for himself that he wanted to play a more administrative role in the team, so he had no right pulling everyone else down, just because he couldn't pilot anymore. Leaving the planets atmosphere Keith set a course for home, as his mind drifted back to Lance's earlier outburst. His husband had been furious, so why couldn't he just open his mouth and say Shiro was wrong... maybe deep down, he believe Shiro had a point in some aspects of what he was saying. He was letting everything slide to put Lance first, but as a fellow alpha and someone who'd been romantically interested in his omega, shouldn't Shiro know that it's impossible to leave Lance alone? That without Lance wasn't nearly as bright... but Lance... Lance wasn't the only one struggling, he was just struggling more visibly than the rest of them.

Keith expected Lance to remain hidden away for the whole flight back, but when his husband appeared, he seemed concerned about something other than the pair of them. Pursing his lips, he leant right up to the glass of Black's eyes and narrowed his own "Lance, what are you doing?" "Allura called, Pidge picked up a long-range communication requesting help" "Allura called?" "Yeah. As we're already out this way, she said we should check it out. The others will wait on standby" "Did she say anything about who sent the transmission?" "It came from a Galra ship, but its playing on a loop, and they couldn't get a response to their calls" "Black goo?" "That's what they're thinking, but it could be that or it could be a trap... it could be anything really" "Where is it?" "Pidge said if you open Black's scanner, you should be able to pick the signal up. She was kind of surprised you hadn't already" "There was no need to..." "We should check it out. If they really are in genuine need, we can't do ignore them" "Did Allura say they were remaining on standby in the castle? Or were they bringing the lions out?" "Err, she didn't say..." "And you didn't ask, did you?" "They were busy" "Keith, track the signal. I'm going to call Allura and find out exactly what's happening"

Mumbling under his breath, Shiro kicked off the wall and stalked to the cargo bay, leaving him and Lance alone. Once the door slid closed behind Shiro, Lance turned back to staring out the glass and giving off a practically visible "don't talk to me" vibe. Leaning back in his seat, he stared at Lance. His husband was strong, there was no doubting that, or that he could be fierce and feisty, but instead of thinking about that, he was trying to remember the exact moment he fell for him. He couldn't even remember if he loved or even liked Lance before his suppressants ran out. He knew he loved Lance, and all his quirks, but they'd gotten together when the omega was vulnerable... if things had been different, if Shiro had never broken Lance, would they have gotten together and would they have stayed together? Would they be happier? Would they fight more? Would they be parents? What would have happened if he'd been the one to hurt Lance? Would Lance have forgiven him because the pull of their dynamics was so strong? Lance said he knew Keith was the one alpha out there just for him, fated for him even... and God knew Keith felt the same, but... would Lance have been happier and would he be doing better, if they'd never gotten together? That's what all these mental musing seemed to come back to. Tapping away on Black's system screen, he brought up his long-range scanner, turning it on before clearing his throat "The sensors scanning" "Ok" "Lance..." "I don't want to talk about it. I want to get this over and done with so I can go back to my boys" "My" not "our". He'd really quiznakked up "You shouldn't let what Shiro said get to you" "It's fine" "It's not fine" "Keith, just drop it" Keith bit down a growl in response to the coldness of Lance's tone "Seriously, Shiro doesn't speak for everyone. You're doing fine, better than fine. You're juggling the boys and your role as Paladin..." "I don't want to talk about this" "Well I do" "Well I don't! Fucking hell Keith! Just back off!" Blinking at Lance, he hadn't expected that at all "Don't tell me to fuck off" "I didn't. I told you to back off!" "God. I don't get you. We've been working for phoebes on what you needed and how to figure things out now that we have the boys, but one short conversation with Shiro and your back to pulling this!" "Pulling what?" "Thinking you're not good enough! Thinking everyone's talking about you, that everyone hates you. I'm sick of it! You know everyone loves you" "Right" "What's that supposed to mean?" "I don't want to talk about it" "Stop saying that!" "Then stop talking to me" "Not until you actually talk to me" "What would it change? Nothing. Nothing would change. I'm sorry you ended up with such a worthless husband, but I don't know how to break a bond, so I guess you're fucking stuck with me. God. I should have just stayed back at the castle" "Y-you want to break our bond?" Keith felt physically sick as the words left his lips "Sure. Why not? I'm not good enough to be with you and I'm not good enough to be a Paladin, so what's the use in even trying?" "I... I know things haven't been great... but last night and this morning..." "It was a mistake" Hanging his head, Keith let out a long breath "So... you don't love me. Is that it?" "You know I love you" "Then why are being like this?" "Because sometimes love isn't enough. We keep saying we'll do things. That things will change, but they never do. We fight. We have sex. Things are magically better. That's not how all of this supposed to work. You should find a new Paladin. One not so worthless" Climbing from his seat, Keith strode over to Lance and grabbed him by his left wrist, forcing Lance's hand up "You're the one who said you didn't want things to be over! You! I love you and you act like my feelings mean nothing! I didn't want to take the kids on, you did! And then you get all mad at me when it doesn't work out the way you expected! You wanted space so I gave you space! I fucking love you! I have never loved anyone like I love you, but you make it sound like these feelings are all lies! I don't know what you want from me anymore, so I listen to you and do what you say. But that's not good enough! Maybe I didn't stick up for you in front of Shiro, but Shiro was right. We've both changed, and I don't know how to find a way back from where we are right now" Without intending to, Keith's grip tightened on Lance's wrist to the point where the omega was in pain from it, but being Lance he only shook his head "I don't either. I'm exhausted Keith. I'm exhausted from everything and I don't know why I'm even alive anymore" "You're alive because people need you. I need you. The boys need you" "Do you? Do you really need me dragging you down? I swore to myself and Alfor I would always back you up, but when have I done that lately? When have I done anything that hasn't hurt you? You can't answer because all I've ever done is hurt you" "That's not true..." "You can't even think of a time, can you? I'll do this job, but after that... I don't know what I'm going to do, but you should find a new Paladin" "Screw that. Voltron isn't Voltron without you. We can..." "We can what? Take a break? Something always happens" "Then the others can go on missions" "That's not fair to them" "And this isn't fair on us!" When Lance whimpered, Keith finally realised how strong his grip on his mates wrist was. Releasing Lance, the omegas wrist was red from the pressure "Lance, I'm only going to ask this once. Do you love me?" "With everything I have, but..." "But nothing. I would give up everything for you, and if you want to take a break from being a Paladin, we both will" "We can't!" "We can. I'm exhausted too. I'm tired of leaving the boys behind and I'm tired of this. When we get back, we'll go. I don't know where, but we'll go" "We can't just go" "Lance, this isn't up for argument. You're my husband and I refuse to even think about breaking our bond" "How can you love someone so useless?" "You're not useless. Don't let Shiro get into your head" "I just... I don't know what his problem is! I've told him I don't want to be with him, and before that, we found a way to kind of work together... Shiro carry's a lot of sway over the others, so as far as I'm concerned everything he says is true" "So you'd believe another alpha over me?" "Yes, because you're trying to spare my feelings" "You're not supposed to say yes so easily" "I'm sorry"

"By the sounds of it, you two have a lot to work through" Lance flinched at Shiro's voice, and Keith... he still wanted to punch Shiro in the face. Ignoring what Lance wanted, he wrapped his arms around his omega, kissing his cheek "I love you Lance, so don't let him get to you" "What did she say, Shiro?" "That they'd received a distress call, and hadn't been able to contact them back" "So exactly what I said" Lance mumbled the words so only Keith heard them "Is that all?" "No. Only that they thought it may be related to the black goo, because it's a Galra ship..." "See baby, you're doing a good job. Even Shiro has to realise there was no reason to call Allura" "Keith, just let me go. It doesn't matter. If he thought I was doing a good job, he never would have double checked" "Are you two done whispering?" Pushing him away, Lance turned back to staring out the window "Black is tracking the signal now" "How far out are we?" "I don't know" "Well let Lance go, and get back to work. You'll have to enter the ship alone" "No he's not" "Lance..." "I have my Bayard and if it's related to the black goo, I have to go. I'm the only one who can" "Only because..." "No. Keith can't go. His face is scarred because of that black stuff. I am not having his boys grow up without him" "You're in no condition to go on this mission" "We don't even know if it is a mission! It could be a trap, which means I should be the one going because I'm less important than him! You said so yourself!" "Lance..." "I don't want to hear it Shiro. Keith, keep trying and see if you can get any response at all from them. And while you're at it, figure out how far out we are. We need to be prepared when we get there, and we need to figure out our point of entry. If it's the black goop, we can't risk Black becoming infected, so I think it's best if I enter through the top of the ship, my Bayard will be able to slice through it, then once I pass through the ducts there shouldn't be any problems" "You can't use Galra tech..." "No, but I can cut through basically anything" "That's going to take a lot of time" "Let me call Pidge. I know she has the software for overriding Galra access codes. Once I'm in, I can scan the hand scanners and have her adjust the coding" "It would be better for Keith to go. He won't need to rely on Pidge to interface with the control systems" "That's if the ship is even salvageable. If it's infected, the best course of action would be to blow it up" "That's not out decision to make. The ship doesn't belong to us" "I'm not sure Lotor is going to want a contaminated ship back" "For all we know, it could be carrying supplies or even quintessence" "Lance, you're not to take any chances with pure quintessence. If there's any on there, leave it" "Keith..." "No. I'm not having him affected by it again" "If there's quintessence, it needs to be secured. We can't risk anyone else getting their hands on it" "I'm not risking Lance's health over it" "I thought he had limited side effects?" "Well you..." "You thought right. Keith is just worrying. It doesn't matter. I'll do my job. Keith, maybe you want to get back in your chair and tell us how far out we are" So Lance's health and fertility weren't important to him? Sure they couldn't have any more kids anytime soon, but he'd been under the impression they both wanted more kids someday. His alpha was both enraged and confused. Lance had literally asked him to "breed" and "fill" him less than a quintant ago... but now that meant nothing. He couldn't keep doing this. He needed to push it all aside. Today was definitely a day he needed to hit restart on.

* Ok Lance. You can totally do this... this isn't creepy at all... jumping at the sound of his own feet hitting the empty corridor below, Lance nearly burst out laughing in nerves. He'd been all talk in front of Shiro and Keith, but not he was on the completely silent ship, his heart was racing and every noise he made had him jumping. To say Keith hadn't even too impressed was the understatement of the deca-phoeb. Their relationship was on the rocks and he'd lashed out stupidly, intentionally trying to hurt his alpha so he'd back off and give him some space to breathe. Instead Keith was Keith. Too kind and sweet, and way too understanding, but that was only because his husband hadn't believed he was serious about breaking their bond. Having vargas to stew over Shiro's words, he could only agree with everything the alpha had said. He was the weak link, and his mental health wasn't exactly great... and honestly, he secretly hoped their would be someone on the ship just so they'd hurt him and he'd have a legitimate excuse not to pilot Red. How Keith could love a selfish omega like himself, Lance had no idea. Taking a deep breath, Lance went about activating his communicator, calling through to Pidge. Keith had wanted him to call through to him, but Lance had dodged it by explaining Pidge needed to be on the line to help him with any Galra tech he couldn't get through. Casting a glance around his surroundings, he repeatedly mumbled "pick up" until she finally did, causing him to yelp, despite expecting her voice "Lance! Are you alright?" "Fine..." He winced at how high his voice was "... just, you know, scared quiznakkless and completely alone in this big silent ship" Pidge snorted "Keith's right beside you, isn't he?" "No, just me. I seem to be the only one who can handle the goop and the pure quintessence. Annnny who, in the ship, I just came in through the air duct" "Right. So you'll be heading to bridge?" "Something like that. God... this is creepy. I swear to god if someone was to tell "boo!" I'd have a heart attack on the spot" "Don't go doing that. We're on standby, but we're all the way back on Olkarion" "At least you'd save me. Hey, is Hunk next to you?" "Of course. Where else would he be?" "Can you put me on speaker? I need to ask you something, and I need an honest answer" "Lance..." He could hear the frown in Pidge's tone "Please Pidge. I promise no matter what you say, I'm not going to get mad" "Now you're scaring me. Hang on... right, you're on speaker" Picking up the pace to a jog, Lance didn't exactly know where he was going, he just wanted to get this over with and get the hell off the ship "Hey buddy, what's up?" "Guys... other than these last few movements, have I been doing better?" Silence. Nothing. Not even whispers or the sound of breathing "Guys?" He hated how desperate he sounded "Sorry Lance. I was just thinking. Did something happen?" "Maybe, but I need you to be honest" "Well being a mum and a Paladin is hard, but we both agree that other than this last movement, you've been doing better... right, Hunk?" "Yeah buddy. You're eating better, working out and looking after the pups, even with everything else going on. You've been a bit scattered since moving back into the castle, and your scents been all over the place... what happened?" "Shiro" Both his friends groaned "What did he say?" "I'm dragging Keith down and I don't look after him or even care about him, or that was the gist of it. And..." "And, what?" "That you're all tired of me" Pidge growled. The tiny female alpha actually growled "Seriously?" "I know I'm the weak link of the team, but I thought I was doing ok... Do you guys know how to break a bond?" "Lance, buddy, don't even joke about something like that" "I'm not joking. I don't want to drag Keith down. He's... he's..." "We know what he means to him, and he loves you" "But if I'm ruining his life, maybe it's better I let him go. All I want is for him to be happy, but Shiro made it sound like everything I do is wrong and Keith didn't say anything. Now he wants to go on holiday when we get back, and I don't know what to do anymore" Word vomit. He definitely had word vomit from his nerves. Not only had he dobbed Shiro in, he couldn't stop his words from just falling through his lips like all of this wasn't a big deal "Maybe some time off would be good? You and Keith could talk?" "I didn't want to talk, I wanted space and some how that ended up in sex and now I don't know what to do. I tried to push him away so I could think, but he doesn't... he insisted on taking care of me. Guys, what do I?" "Go on holiday with him" "Hunk..." "I'm serious bud. You, Keith, the boys. Just take a break" "We can't just take a break. Besides, Shiro wants us all to have full physicals and wants to test us against the training simulator" "Full physicals?" "He wants to know everything..." Pidge let out a short and sharp "oh" "Pretty much. He..." "No. Lance. If it really affected the team and a mission, you would tell us. I mean. If it was so bad you thought we could be hurt or something, you would tell us, right?" "Or at least tell Keith or Allura" "If it stopped someone getting hurt" "See. Just ignore Shiro. He's still trying to find his place in the team" "Well the way he made it sound, you guys should start looking for a new Red Paladin" "Voltron isn't Voltron without you bud" "Hunk's right. You're the Red Paladin, and I don't think Red would let you go that easily" "I'm sorry for dumping this on you. I'm so nervous right now, I can't stop myself from talking" "It's ok. Hunk and I are hiding from Coran at the moment" "Wait. What? Why?" "He wants to clean the pod rooms, and he's been talking to the boys all morning about cleaning. I think he loves the fact they can't escape him going off on one of his tangents" Lance groaned. He could picture it now. Coran having the boys clean all the places he couldn't bend to reach "Have they at least behaved?" "Um... Laneith wouldn't take his bottle, and Kelance started crying... which meant the both were. Coran started telling them all these stories about Allura growing up" "I can picture that. I bet he got all weepy too" "He burst into tears and started sobbing about how adorable she was" "How did Allura take it?" "She patted him on the arm, before making him a cup of tea and taking the boys" "That's why we're in Pidge's room and not on the bridge" "I miss the boys... It's so hard to leave them behind" "Just think, you're out there fighting for the future" "Well, right now, the future sucks... AND GALRA SHIPS SUCK!" Yelling the sentence, his own voice echoed through the halls, only making things that much creepier "You don't need to yell" "I think everyone's dead..." "You can't know that for sure..." "Pidge, can you do that thing where you access my communicator? I honestly don't know where I am..." "Yep. I'm already on it, just waiting on the program to hurry up" "Good. I don't want Shiro thinking I'm not doing my job" "Lance, Shiro isn't Voltron's leader anymore" "Only because he wasn't really Shiro and I cut his arm off... in his mind, he didn't disappear" "Yes, but Shiro wanted Keith to take over. If you don't get some kind of perk from sleeping with him..." "Pidge!" "I'm just saying..." "We'll stop it! Coming into space has corrupted you" "I prefer to think it as being an eye opening and life changing experience" "Do you want me to tell Matt? How do you think he's going to take it? Especially when you and Allura are the only females on a castle full of me" "Six is female" "Six is a cat" "She's still female. And we have female chickens, and Kaltenecker, and some of the mice" "Hunk, can you punch Pidge in the arm" "Sorry Lance, she'd punch back and she hits hard" "Of course I do. I have Matt as an older brother" "Guys... do you ever get mad that I had the twins?" "What? No. I mean, you did hide away from us and you nearly died... but we all love the boys" "Thanks... I really needed to hear that" "We don't mind babysitting, but we draw the line at nappies and crying" "I know... Hunk definitely made that clear" "I have no idea how two tiny humans can make that much of a stink" "Me neither... Pidge, I'm at a fork in the corridors. Which way?" "Left" "Left? Left because it's on the display, or because it's an educated guess?" "It's a guess, but all the corridors end up joining up somehow..." "Hunk, which way?" "Left... I'm not arguing with Pidge" Gripping his Bayard for strength, Lance looked at the two corridors, wishing his stupid second sense would kick in and just guide him to the bridge. Trying to clear his mind of all thought, he shook his limbs and rolled his neck, before frowning, and turning down the right corridor, immediately forgetting the pair had said to go left. Catching sight of himself reflected in the ship's window, he clutched his chest as he tried to calm his breathing "Lance?" "I may have made myself jump again... this is so spooky" "Do you remember that time went to the Galaxy Garrisons open day and they had that haunted house..." "Hunk. No. Do not bring that up right now" "Or he totally could. What happened?" "Lance..." "Lance doesn't want to talk about it, and if you tell Pidge, I'll never talk to you again" "Rude!" "Bud, that's harsh" Lance didn't need Pidge knowing he'd been jump scared so badly he'd screamed and practically jumped into Hunk's arms, nor that the girl in the zombie outfit had laughed way longer and harder than what was polite. Nope. He didn't need her getting any ideas "Pidge, I'll tell you later" "No. Don't tell her..." "Yes, tell me" "Guys, can we not be mean to me when I'm walking through this big empty ship" "Have you come across any door pads or sensors? Anything with a signal I can hack into?" "Nope. It's just one super looooong corridor" "Quick Lance! Behind you!" Not thinking about the fact Pidge wasn't actually there and had no idea what was going on, Lance span round with his gun ready, before it finally clicked "Pidge!" Pidge cackled with laughter "It's not funny" "It is, just a little bit" "Seriously, I nearly blasted the ship for no reason" "A girls gotta get her kicks some how" "Well making fun of me isn't funny! Why did I even call you guys?!" "Because you love us" "I don't know about that..." "Lance, I'm hurt" "Good" "Fine, just let us know when you finally reach a door" "Just don't go dropping the call..." "We won't bud" At least Hunk had his back.

After getting hopelessly lost, Lance finally found a door. A nice, big, totally unsuspicious door... that could just be hiding something ready to kill him the moment he opened it... Nope. No. Noooo. Nothing was waiting for him "Pidge, my communicators against the panel" "Good that's all I need. Now just hold still for a couple of doboshes. I'm going to remote access your communication" "Mhmm, sure... and I'll just stand here and hope I'm not murdered..." "No one's going to murder you. There's no zombies in space" "Hunk!" "She got it out of me!" "I can't believe you told! You're lucky I'm not about to tell her about your first day at the Garrison, and how you threw up..." "Lance!" "This is getting good! What happened?" "Well, you know Hunk used to throw up all the time..." "Lance" "Hunk" "Please don't tell her" "My work here's already done. Do you really think she's going to let it drop?" Hunk growled softly while Pidge laughed "It's ok Hunk, she still loves you" "But my image..." "Hunk, don't take this the wrong way, but Pidge doesn't care about your image, so you're fine" "Sometimes Lance opens his mouth and says something profound" "You don't have to sound so shocked" "Relax, we're just teasing" Because he totally wanted to be teased. Not. At least it meant he wasn't all by himself "Pidge, how much longer?" "Art takes time" "That makes no sense" "Sure it does. Another dobosh and a half, at least" "I'm so glad no ones shooting at me" "See, no worries. Just keep standing still" "I haven't moved at all. You would be proud of me" "We are proud of you bud. Oh hey, Allura just walked in. Allura, come talk to Lance with us" "Hey Lance! Sorry, the boys are sleeping. I only just got them to sleep" "Hi Allura, I hope they haven't been too much trouble?" "They're fine. They've settled, so everything is fine now. How about you?" "Oh, you know. Sneaking around on an empty Galra ship... it's not cold and spooky at all" "I'm sorry we aren't there to back you up" "It's fine. Keith and Shiro are like a call away..." "I don't think Shiro will be much help" Meat shield. Diversion. Human sacrifice... Lance was down for all those options, even if he knew he'd never be able to live with himself if something actually happened to Shiro "Let's not talk about Shiro and Keith... they can keep their alpha stink to themselves, and Pidge, my arm is getting numb" "We're at 78 percent. So just a little longer. Hey Allura, what do you think about Keith and Lance taking some time off?" "You want to take time off? Did something else happen between you two?" "Shiro said a whole lot off stuff to him, and now they need to work on their relationship. Hunk and I think it's a good idea, but what about you?" "Provided you don't go too far, and we can still contact you. I don't see why not? It saddens me to see you both so upset when you both love each other so much" "See Lance, Allura is totally cool with it. Do you have any idea where you want to go?" The Omega hadn't expected it all to be so smooth... he'd expected Allura to say no or something... even though he knew she really wouldn't "Umm... no. I mean, Keith only mentioned it a couple of vargas ago... maybe somewhere with a beach?" "Hunk and I will take a look at prospective planets... we should have known you'd want to go somewhere with a beach" "So what? I like surfing and swimming, both of which you can do at the beach... and I want the boys to see the sea" "I think they're still a little young for swimming" "We can teach them when they're older. We'll make it a team building exercise" "That's going to be so adorable!" Rolling his eyes at his friends, he was once again grateful not to be "alone" as the ship's temperature dropped further.

There were several long moments of silence before the door opened in front of him and Pidge let out a triumphant "Yes!", only it was completely wasted on him as Lance reeled backwards, gagging as tried not to vomit in his helmet "Lance?" "They're dead" "All of them?" "I don't know... oh god. It stinks" "Put your helmet on" "It is on..." Looking at the pile of bloated Galra bodies, his eyes accidentally met those of one the deceased. Ripping off his helmet, he couldn't stop himself from throwing up on the wall next to him, while his friends let out a collective "Ewww". Without the helmet on, the smell was infinitely worse. His eyes watering as he pinched his nose, almost grateful for the burning feeling in his sinuses and throat "Nope. I am not going in there" "Lance, you need to check if there are any survivors" "Allura, you're not smelling what I am" "We can't report this to Lotor and say you didn't check" "Ugh... it smells so bad" "We also need to find out who initiated the transmission" "So you want me to see if there's a less dead Galra among the bunch. I'm going to have nightmares about this for the rest of my life" "Stop being a Prima Donna and do your job" Wrinkling his nose, Lance inched his way into the room. He might have initially over exaggerated as there were only three bodies, but they were all bloated and all seemed to be staring at him. Giving the room a quick sweep, he ran from it the moment he was sure no one was alive "That was revolting!" "Any survivors?" "No" Stepping forward, he found the smell not leaving him. Looking down, he grimaced at the matter now cakes onto his boots... unfortunately, dead bodies leaked and he'd stepped in it. Letting out a miserable whine, he shook his legs, trying to get the gunk off, only for it to flick onto his armour "Lance?" "I stepped in it. Oh god. It's... it's worse than anything..." He could Pidge snickering, and whine again, unconsciously calling for his alpha to come rescue him from this mess "Lance, don't whine like that. We aren't Keith" "But it's so gross" "Do you want us to patch Keith in?" "No! I, um, no. Just let me recover from that..." "Are you sure?" "It's fine" It was soooo not fine "Just tell me how to get to the bridge from where I am" "You need to head back the way you came and down three levels..." Walking back the way he came wasn't tempting at all. Looking to his feet, he figured he could cut through the ship "Pidge, what's directly below me?" "Another corridor" "So I can cut a hole in the ship and I'm not going to end up in space?" "You seriously want to cut a hole in the ship?" "Well it seems pointless walking back" "Lance, just go back the way you came. We don't know what's wrong with the ship, and you could trigger an explosion" "But at least I'd be down a floor" Pidge groaned, and Allura took over "Lance, we all know you can do this. So please, take the long way and stay safe" "But it's gross" "Then don't look" Gripping his Bayard, it was so very tempting, but then he pictured Shiro's face and the lecture he would get "Fine! But Hunk, I want a huge plate of cookies when I get home" "Done. Just cookies? Or cookie dough too?" "Both. Both is good... and something for Keith. I don't know what? Do you think he liked garlic knots?" "Not to the same degree you do" "Then he's going to learn to love them" Turning back the way he came, he really didn't want to go back there. Closing his eyes, he ran "straight" until he slipped and landed on his knees. Opening his eyes, he looked down to find his hands covered in fluid that had leaked from the room. Letting out another desperate whine, he tried to wipe them off while escaping the sensation at the same time "Lance?" "Don't... I don't want to do this anymore" "Did you fall, bud? It sounded like you fell" "In it... oh, Hunk..." Sniffling he went to wipe his face and smeared it on his helmet. It was like everything he was trying to prove to Shiro he wasn't, was happening "Lance, it's ok. You've got your armour on" "It's... so gross" "We all know how gross a dead body can be. It's ok. Just take a few breaths and pull yourself together" "I'm sorry... it's just so gross" "We heard. It's ok. It's been a long day and you're probably exhausted. Now get up, and keep going" "O-okay"

With his knees aching and his body feeling like a popsicle, it seemed to take forever to make it to the bridge, which was even more revolting than the room upstairs. The Galra had started shooting at each other, so not only did it smell like rot, the smell of burnt hair and flesh hung in the air. This was so not the right mission to be proving he could handle anything the others could. Stepping into the bridge, he had to step over a particularly fat Galra, that missing half his head... which was covering the console in front of him "Pidge, I'm there" "See, we knew you could do it" "They shot each other. I think they were probably scared of being infected and went crazy" "Or there was an internal struggle for power... go ahead and place your palm on the scanner, actually, you could just place one of their hands on their" "Doesn't your program get around that?" "It does, but this will be quicker" "I don't want to touch them. It feels wrong" "Lance, I'm just asking you to put his hand on the scanner" "Can't you scan his hand? Like that other time?" He could hear Pidge rolling her eyes "Fiiiiine, flick to video feed for me" "Ok, but don't blame me when you have nightmares" "Lance!" "Ok, ok!" Tapping his communicator, he wasn't sure why Pidge didn't do it herself, but the first thing she did when she saw the sight was gag, which was kind of comforting "See what I mean!" "That's nasty..." "Pidge, can you just do your thing?" "I'm already on it. I totally think you deserve two quintants off for this" "We can't... we don't know if we'll be needed" "Are you trying to say you and Keith are more capable than the rest of us?" "No. I'm trying to say you'll look a bit funny without an arm or the head when you form Voltron" "Now that would be funny. Sending the file through now" Turning his arm back to the hand pad, he opened the holo-folder and held it over. The moment the screens filled with Galra script, an alarm began to sound "Pidge!" "I'm working on it!" "Work faster! I don't like this alarm" "It's not like anyone's going to shoot you" "This ship still has sentries!" "Fair point. Ok. There's been an explosion in the good's hangar connected to the fleet hangar. It seems like the last time anything was put into the system was... 4 quintants ago. The ships been floating since" "Then why didn't we pick up on it earlier?" "I don't know. Perhaps it was just out of range for our scanners. Hold on a tick" After being deafened by the alarm, to hear it suddenly cut out was weird "Ok. So I've turned the alarm off, and there shouldn't be any sentries headed your way. I'm downloading the ships logs, but you're going to have to head down to the hangar" "Great..." "It's only 4 more floors" "When I get back to the castle, I'm taking a varga long shower, while you all babysit" "I bet he's in there for 5 doboshes, before getting out and finding the boys" "I bet it's two" "I can't go near the boys like this. I stink" "Lance, you can head down. I have full control of the ship now" "Then can't I just stay here?" "With the bodies?" "On second thought, 4 floors. I can do that" "Don't go slipping this time. Oh, Allura's got a call from Keith" "Tell him I don't need his help. I'm going to check the explosion, then I'll cut my way out. It's fine" "Mhmm" "I'm serious" "Don't you want him to come rescue you" "No. I don't need rescuing. I need less dead people and less creepy Galra ships" "Keith says hello" "I'm sure he does" "He wants to know what you're doing" "Pidge, I don't need a running commentary. If you keep this up, I'm hanging up" "You can't hang up. I'm downloading the logs" "Then I'm going to take my communicator off and leave it behind" "You wouldn't!" "I might..." "Lance, I'll hunt you down myself if you lose you're communicator. Do you have any idea how much of an amazing piece of technology that is?" "I know, but it got you to back off when it came to Keith" "That's not fair!" "Then you shouldn't have been mean. Quiznak. All these corridors look the same" "Just keep going" "I am. Why can't this place have heating? It's freezing on here" "I think the smell would be even worse if the ship was warm" "Ugh. You're right" The stench had practically embedded its self to him, his whole body felt like it was trying to shrink away from his armour.

Jogging through the second floor, Lance stumbled to a stop as he realised there were an awful lot of doors on the corridor he was in. Pidge, Hunk and Allura were all now talking to Shiro and Keith, providing little more than background noise. Walking over to the closet door, he took a deep breath before opening it. The room was stark, but with chains and shackles coming from the wall "Pidge, was this ship transporting prisoners?" "I don't think so... Why? What's wrong?" "There's a whole corridor of cells" "I'll take a look through the logs, for now you should keep moving" "But there could be prisoners on here" "Lance, let Pidge work. It's not like you won't have to head back up to get out" "Shouldn't I just check while I'm here?" "Anything could be in one of those rooms, so for now, I want you keep going" He didn't want to hear Keith. His husband sounded worried and he hated it. Couldn't he just let him do his job? His omega instantly wanted to go running to their alpha and have Keith soothe away the trauma of this whole mission. Stupid secondary dynamic! "I still think I should check..." "Lance, just head down to the site of the explosion" And there was Shiro... Lance mentally sighed. It would be so much easier if he just checked the rooms, but noooo, stupid alphas knew best! "Alright already. I'm going!" The strain and stress from a lack of sleep and a ridiculously long day were definitely taking its toll. All Lance wanted was a hot shower and then to curl up with his sons. That was it. He didn't care what Keith got up to once they got back to the castle, he just wanted to know his sons were alright.

* "Well. This... this isn't quite what I was expecting" "What do you see?" "It looks like someone deliberately blew the room up..." "Is there any sign of the goop?" "No, but I'd definitely say they were transporting quintessence... not a lot, judging by the three broken canisters, but it was here and I can feel traces of it" "Pure or tainted?" "I think it's tainted. It's giving me a headache from being so close to it. I have no idea what happened on this ship, but I'm calling it a bust. Call Lotor and have someone come collect it" "Lance, we need to be completely certain there's no traces of the goop. Check the main hangar next door" "I've already walked through the hangar to get here. I didn't see anything" "Then go take another look. There has to be a reason this happened" Groaning, Lance turned back towards the main hangar. He hadn't seen anything, so why did he have to go to all the effort of checking it. Dragging his feet, he was sorely tempted to deactivate his Bayard, but his armour was probably the only thing keeping him upright "Lance" "What now?!" "I was going to tell you to be careful" "Fine. Whatever. Just call Lotor already" Snapping at Keith, he regretted it immediately. It wasn't the right way to assure the fellow teen that he was alright. Anyone who knew him, knew he found it hardest to lie about how he was feeling when he was tired. It felt like his mouth just had no stop function. Thankfully Pidge came back into the conversation "What do you see?" "I'm still walking" "I don't know how, you've been on that ship for vargas now" "I don't know either... right, ok. There's fighter jets and another small ship here" "Check the ship, we'll bring Black around to meet you" Finally! Just one quick check of the ship and all this would be over. With renewed vigor, Lance jogged across the hangar and over to the ship, hitting the external door pad with a sigh. He was lucky he hadn't deactivated his Bayard as the moment the door began to lower, black goop shot from the ship "Oh, quiznak!" "Lance?" "I found the goop, and the quintessence!" "Lance, get out of there!" Dodging the tendrils striking towards him, he cursed the whole galaxy as his muscles screamed. Switching to his sword, he struck out at the mass, while simultaneously attempting to flee. Without Keith waiting close to the hangar doors, he couldn't make a run for it that way, so instead he lead the goop in a wide arching semicircle, so he ultimately wound up backing into the ship it'd been contained in "Lance?!" "Still here..." "We'll be there soon" "Hold up! I'm in the ship the goop was in" "What? Why?" "Uh, because I had no where else to go, and now I see why it wasn't going anywhere. They've got 6 containers of pure quintessence here, and what seems to be a less decomposed Galra behind the controls" "Lance, whatever you do, don't touch the quintessence!" Angered by being separated from its "treasure", the black goop smashed against the small ship in an attempt to get back in. Keith had said the goop could work technology, but this lot seemed to have no idea. Thrown as the ship was tipped sideways, the loose canisters smashed against the wall, and Lance across the pile... Keith was going to be furious... "Lance?! Baby, can you hear me?" "I hear you... don't be mad, but the canisters broke" "Lance, I told you to stay away from it!" "I didn't do it on purpose!" "Lance, how many containers broke?" "All of them..." "Quiznak Lance! How could you be so stupid!" "Me! I didn't do anything!" Shrieking back at Shiro, Lance didn't particularly appreciate the fact that he'd essentially just taken a bath in pure quintessence and all of it was flooding his systems. Unlike the small amount he'd used to get the goop out of his son and Pidge, this was way too much for his systems, and he ripped his helmet off as he struggled to breathe "Lance, do you think you can pilot the ship?" "N-no..." "Keith, Shiro, you need to do something! Get him out of there!" Flipped again, Lance landed hard on his back, his head smacking against the floor? or was it the ceiling of the ship as glass rained down around him "Lance, we're at the hangar!" "Well hurry up and do something!" "We'll provide cover fire, but you're going to need to make a run for it!" "Run... I forgot how funny you could be, Shiro" Run he said. He was so disoriented that he could barely walk, and now they wanted him to run. Feeling around for his Bayard, he grabbed it as he rolled onto his stomach, coughing and spitting blood as he did. Keith totally didn't need to know about that "Lance!" "Just give me a tick! I need to shoot my way out!" "Ok baby. You've got this!" He was like 80 percent sure he didn't "got this". Forcing his helmet back on, Lance turned his sword back into his gun and fired at the side of the ship, but like this whole day, everything went wrong again. Instead of blasting a hole through the side of the ship, there was some kind of explosion before the black goop was rushing at him. In the background he could hear Keith screaming his name, and he felt a surge of power as everything went blue... and then incredibly blurry. Choking on his own spit, the omega began crawling forward as the black goop disintegrated around him. Well... Quiznak. Keith wasn't going to be happy at all.

[accidental--light]

to mia of 2018 --

2017 was a big year for you. 

you finished your first semester of college. you signed a lease on a house. you got a job at cvs over the summer, went to iceland, went to arizona, hoed around a bit, won a poetry award, dropped a major, took on two new certificates, grappled with what you wanted to do with your life, broadened those horizons. you always say that you’re “introspective to the point of narcissism” and that certainly proved true more than ever this year. however, you still managed to learn new things about yourself.

first, the bad. you overanalyzed things and obsessed. you had trouble letting things go. you had trouble making decisions and always second-guessed yourself. you spent too much time treating yourself and not enough time actually working. you lived in the past and the future more than the present. you’re not as kind as you thought you were. you’re more selfish than you thought you were. you’re not as gay as you thought you were. you like being alone but you hate being lonely. you probably have commitment issues. you have trouble with memory and can’t stay focused, probably from too much social media (you wasted a lot of time on social media). you struggled and cut yourself off from people who probably needed you just as much as you needed them.

a lot of bad stuff happened this year but we don’t need to talk about those now. you wrote them down as they happened, and now it’s time to move on from them and regain perspective.

now, the good. you joined food recovery heroes and did the food waste audit. you started caring about the environment and watching your waste and your money. you stopped drinking so much. you laughed a lot (though we both know you can laugh more and harder). you learned to sit down and shut up, to listen to the other side of things and to consume as much as your produce. you spent the summer at cvs and learned a lot about the world, other people, how to be kind and generous to strangers. you met a lot of people who changed how you saw the world there, and then at pitt; people who inspired you to do better in all parts of your life. you struggled with eating and a myriad of health issues but all in all, your tastes changed so now you actually like vegetables and whole grains better than most junk foods, and fruit is now a perfectly delicious dessert. you started figuring out fitness. you became better at interacting with strangers and classmates, made some great friends and signed a lease on a house with some of your three favorite people in the world. you got close to people you never thought you would have, and cut off some more toxic ones. you took some really incredible classes with some incredible professors, like muslims and migration, intro to poetry, renaissance art, us in the middle east, world literature, and your history seminar. you discovered incredible music, like amine, elijah who, bon iver’s 22, a million, chance the rapper, blackbear, gallant, declan mckenna, bleachers’ gone now, jeremy zucker, russ, marc e. bassy, lorde’s melodrama, and rusty clanton. you read some fantastic books, like station eleven, looking on darkness, constellation of vital phenomena, the once and future king, the egyptians, and a brief history of seven killings. you started reading for fun again and re-fell in love with prose. you started realizing things you need to change about yourself and you’re committed to changing them.

a few words of advice to help you in the upcoming year:

you love learning. act like it. spend more time reading and being present in that reading. remember how it feels to be passionate about new things.

indulging your hurt is not self-care. stop listening to so much sad music. music can be painful, and sometimes it’s a good pain, but a lot of the time it just makes pain worse. fill your life with music that makes you excited to be alive.

don’t let this sustainability thing be a phase, or just in your head. actually work on it. talk the talk, walk the walk, even if you have to give up some of your favorite things. everything that’s worth it in life takes sacrifice.

stop saying things you know you won’t stick to. you’re starting to come off as a flake. but also put yourself out there more. be friendlier to your fellow club members instead of just going to get stuff done. start going to parties again, even if you don’t drink as much. make connections, make memories.

make more art. you rediscovered drawing late this year and you still got it. you can get better if you work on it. you rediscovered prose this year and you might never get it, but that’s okay. it’s fun.

remember you are beautiful. take care in your appearance — you gotta look good to be good — but adjust your standards and don’t get caught up in numbers or what’s in the mirror. beauty is what makes you feel good. it’s inside out — inside your body (health) and inside your mind (positivity and kindness).

everything is temporary. don’t waste time on anything that (1) won’t make you happy (2) won’t make you happy in the long run (3) won’t help make the world a better place. be present. get out of your thoughts.

complain less but share more. pop your bubble of sad, then pop someone else’s. caring about other people is a good distraction from whatever’s ailing you — plus it’s just the good thing to do. you deserve it. more importantly, they deserve it.

be kinder. more considerate. more generous with your thoughts. have empathy. be a hoe if you still want to, but not a careless hoe. DA’s have feelings too. boys aren’t as dumb as you say they are (but they aren’t as important as you feel they are, either). make an effort to be more generous to those who irk you. be patient.

life will take you where it wants. just do your best and keep your eyes out for opportunities. don’t live in the past — what’s done is done, and you can’t change it. keep moving forward.

be thankful. you are loved.

you’re going to have so much fun this year. you’ll be spending the summer in pittsburgh in your new house learning arabic. you have the internship at the writing center and then the job in the fall. maybe you’ll ta or work in the archives. you’ll repair your friendships and make new ones, learn how to use the public transport and cook for yourself. you’ll take incredible classes, become editor of the lit mag, make so much art, share so much art. maybe you’ll go to spain. maybe you’ll fall in love.

2017 sucked ass but mostly because you helped it suck ass. don’t suck ass. get ass sucked.  

yours truly, mia of 2017 xx

[type2diabetestreatments-blog]

Ask D'Mine: Weigh What You Eat, and Insulin Analogy Troubles

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Ask D'Mine: Weigh What You Eat, and Insulin Analogy Troubles

Happy Saturday! It's time for another edition of our weekly diabetes advice column, Ask D'Mine, with veteran type 1 and diabetes educator Wil Dubois who tackles all sorts of quirky questions from our D-Community.

This week, Wil's looking at options for weighing food, and also the medical profession's various analogies for diabetes. He's touching on everything from carb-focused apps to diabetes linguistics in this one!

Got your own questions? Email us at AskDMine@diabetesmine.com

Darlene, type 1 from Wisconsin, writes: I have been living with diabetes for 41 years, and started on the pump a few years ago. I read labels and use the old, old food-exchanges-measure-and-WAG (Wild Ass Guess) method to calculate carbs for my boluses. In most cases I'm typically right on with my results or guestimations, but recently I purchased a scale just to add another calculation option. A scale is something that I would not utilize every day, but the other day I actually used it to calculate my bolus. I was shocked at the difference in the carbs. What do you find to be the most reliable source of determining the amount of carbs in food?

Wil@Ask D'Mine answers: I'm still waiting for the CarbSniffer App for my iPod Touch. You know, the one where you wave your smart device over your plate and it automatically counts the carbs with an accuracy of 1/10th of a carb, and then subtracts the fiber for you to boot. Unfortunately, there's not an app for that.

(((Sigh)))

Meanwhile, the closest thing is my trusty old Salter Model 1400 nutritional scale. It's my go-to carb counter at home. I bought it at Diabetes Mall years ago. Does anyone remember Diabetes Mall? Does anyone remember malls at all? Here's what I like about the Salter: It's smallish, cordless (it uses a 9 volt battery), measures in either ounces or grams—handy as some food labels use one measure and some food labels use the other—and it has an easy to use "zero" function. That means I can set a bowl on the scale, zero it, then put in cereal or whatever I feel like eating, and get the weight of the food without having to subtract the weight of the container. Then I can use any old calculator to figure out the carbs of my serving (based on the nutrition label). The scale is accurate enough that I can get excellent results even with heavy bowls and light foods.

But it gets even better. The scale also has a telephone-style numerical key pad on the far right hand side. What's up with that, you ask? It has a built-in data base of foods that don't come with nutrition labels. Let's say that I want to eat half a baked potato with my dinner. I can either go to a carb book or data base to find:

Potato, baked, 2 ¼ inch x 4 ¾ inch, with skin = 51 carbs

And then wonder what to do about the fact that my frickin' potato is 2 ¾ inches by 3 ¼ inches instead of the standard size, before dividing by two and worrying about how well I cut it in half....

Or, I can just slap the actual half potato on my scale, enter code number 908 (for potato — you look up foods in the guide they provide), press the carb button and get what I need: 19.44 carbs. Ta-da! Oh, and pressing the fiber button tells me to subtract 1.83 from the total, for the impact carbs. If I were a registered dietitian, I could also press the calorie button to learn that my intended potato serving has 83.9 calories. Additionally, it has buttons that I never use to calculate salt, protein, fat, and cholesterol. The only bummer is that it can only display one thing at a time, but maybe they've fixed that in the newer models.

It is not, however, portable enough to take with me when I'm eating out. For that, I also used to just use the SWAG method (Scientific Wild Assed Guess) of carb counting: Well, that looks like about 35 carbs to me, let's eat.

But recently, my iPod Touch has changed all that. I now have the very good Calorie King app, which actually beats the pants off of the printed book that used to live in the glove box of my Jeep. The book was great for drive-thrus, but of no use when you've forgotten to take it into a restaurant with you, hence the frequent SWAGing.

At the D'Mine Innovation Summit in November, My good friend Bernard introduced me to a new app called, improbably, Figwee. What's cool about this app is that it has photos of various foods and a slider that lets you make the portions either larger or smaller to mimic what's actually in front of your face. As you change the visual size of the portions, the carb data changes, too. They call it a "photographic portion estimator." It's very cool. You can even change the viewing angle on the food. We used it to estimate how many carbs the tiramisu had. How'd that work out? I don't know, you'll have to ask Bernard. I opted for the spumoni, instead.

So there's a lot of technology out there to help us get a better handle on our foods, and I encourage you to use it. When we guestimate, we risk what I call "error creep." A little at a time we get sloppy. Yeah, you think you're pouring a half-cup of corn flakes into that bowl but you're already up to three-quarters of a cup. If you don't believe me, serve yourself what you think is a third-cup of rice onto your plate, then scrape it back off and into a measuring cup to see how much you really served. I'll be its more than you thought it was! And heavily compacting the rice in the cup is cheating.

So to me, the most reliable method to estimate carbs is weight. I think that's the most accurate, and the simplest. But weighing food when you eat out isn't realistic for most of us. So weigh at home, SWAG (with some real science on your side with the help of a friendly app or two) when you are out and about, and you'll be fine most of the time. And for the rest of the time, that's what correction boluses are for!

Brad, type 2 from Georgia, writes: I was recently diagnosed and my doctor told me about how insulin is like a key that unlocks a door so the sugar can get into the cell. My question is, what closes the door again once the sugar is inside?

Wil@Ask D'Mine answers: Gah! I hate that stupid analogy. As a way to try to make some very complicated science easier to grasp, the action of insulin is often compared to a key that opens a door. Actually, as I'm sure you know, cells don't have little doors. Instead, via processes that border on magic, cells, with the assistance of insulin, can suck glucose right through their own walls. OK, well that was sloppily worded. Cells use highly specialized transporter molecules to ferry glucose from outside the cell wall to inside the cell wall. It's more like the international space station's arm reaching out and grabbing a cargo capsule, than like a tired commuter fumbling with his keys and unlocking his front door at the end of a long hard day.

The actual process involves words and concepts like "unpaired electrons, transmembrane segments, amino acids, hydrogen bonds, vesicles, signaling peptides, lipid folding," and the thoroughly unpronounceable "activated kinase domain autophosphorylates tyrosine." Oww, this is making my brain hurt. Ummmmm.... OK, like you doctor told you, there are these little tiny keys....

Don't get me wrong, I love analogies. I make them up and break them out every chance I get. I'm just not that fond of this one. It really doesn't do a good job of explaining either the pathophysiology or the defect of insulin resistance that leads to type 2 diabetes, and you've just identified yet another weakness of the whole analogy with your "closing the door" question. The problem is, I'm apparently not smart enough to come up with a better analogy than the cliché "key and door."

You know what? Maybe we're talking about the wrong kind of door. The whole process of getting glucose from the blood into a cell is more like walking through one of those revolving doors you see in public buildings. The door is never really open and never really closed, right? As it spins you can pass through. First you are outside. Then you are inside the door. Then you are inside the building. That's pretty much how glucose molecules pass from the blood into the cell. Now all I gotta do is figure out how to explain what part of the door the insulin is... I dunno... the motor that keeps it spinning? And insulin resistance is a crow bar jammed into the works...? OK, this is going to require a whole lot more work on my part.

But to answer your original question, the door doesn't need to shut again, because it was never really open. Just like the revolving door, the door for sugar is constantly spinning, grabbing sugar from outside the cell, holding it in the cell wall for an instant, then releasing it into the inside of the cell where it can be burned for fuel.

And now I'm going to shut the door on this whole conversation... I'll see you all next week. Same time, same channel.

This is not a medical advice column. We are PWDs freely and openly sharing the wisdom of our collected experiences — our been-there-done-that knowledge from the trenches. But we are not MDs, RNs, NPs, PAs, CDEs, or partridges in pear trees. Bottom line: we are only a small part of your total prescription. You still need the professional advice, treatment, and care of a licensed medical professional.

Disclaimer: Content created by the Diabetes Mine team. For more details click here.

Disclaimer

This content is created for Diabetes Mine, a consumer health blog focused on the diabetes community. The content is not medically reviewed and doesn't adhere to Healthline's editorial guidelines. For more information about Healthline's partnership with Diabetes Mine, please click here.

Type 2 Diabetes Treatment Type 2 Diabetes Diet Diabetes Destroyer Reviews Original Article

[thezachrogers]

The worst 10 movies of 2016

2016 was really the year of stinkers than it was for good movies. Fortunately, I knew to stay away from most of them. If the trailer reveals too much and it’s so star-studded and CGI driven it almost looks stupid (because it is); then check yourself before you wreck yourself; do NOT watch those movies. The movies I called to be stinkers that I did not see and friends told me they did stink are:

Passengers

Assassin’s Creed

Now You See Me 2

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 2

Mother’s Day

Zoolander 2

Ghostbusters: Answer the Call (total reboot, yet Sigourney Weaver, Dan Akroyd, Bill Murray, and Ernie Hudson all appear in the film as different characters; stupid.)

INDEPENDENCE DAY 2: RESURGENCE: If Will Smith said no to it to do Suicide Squad (TOTAL STINKER) instead, then it had to be bad.

The 5th Wave

The Divergent Series: Allegiant: Before the third installment to this less than mediocre franchise released, Lionsgate announced they were selling the rights to Disney and were going to release the final film (4th and 5th installment) as a TV season with a whole new cast…yea, no thanks.

Warcraft

London Has Fallen

Gods of Egypt

Max Steel

Noticing a trend here folks?

Every movie with the exception of Passengers is not original. Either a sequel to a mediocre movie, or a movie based on videogame or teen novel. Do not waste your time on these films. They are crap, all of them, no matter who is in them.

Yea, I love Jennifer Lawrence, Chris Pratt, Jeff Goldblum, and Mark Ruffalo; but that’s what Marvel movies are for folks!

The following top 10 list is based on what I saw! Again a few of these movies were not terrible, just not the best. #9 and #10 were movies that I could have waited for TV and/or Netflix.

10. X-Men: Apocalypse 3 Stars (7.1/10 on IMDB, 48% on Rotten Tomatoes)

Not a terrible movie, not the worst in the X-Men franchise; just not the best. With the follow up to the BEST X-Men film (Days of Future Past), and the second film in the X-Men Cinematic Universe in 2016 (Deadpool being the first), there were high expectations on this film. It just didn’t meet them.

Apocalypse is not The Last Stand or X-Men Origins: Wolverine; it is not flat out terrible. It just did not meet anyone’s expectations. Oscar Isaac; as good as he is, played a terrible villain, which is so disappointing because he was so good in 2015’s Ex-Machina. Fassbender’s Magneto is still so kick ass as well as Lawrence’s Mystique. Hugh Jackman has hands down the best five minutes in the entire movie. And the post-credits scene was a very exciting set up to March 2017’s Logan. Again: not a bad movie! Just not the greatest. There was WAY too much CGI and WAY too much 1963 Batmanesque cheese lines. Same bat-time, same bat-channel, lots of crap like that. I would wait for this to come out on FX in 2018 to watch. The only reason I would watch is continuity to set up Hugh Jackman’s finale in this beloved franchise; Logan.

9. The Secret Life of Pets 2.75 Stars (6.6/10 on IMDB, 74% on Rotten Tomatoes)

Great airplane movie or TV movie. Not missing much if you don’t watch on rental or in theaters. I love animated films, and some great ones came out in 2016, but this movie just tried too hard in all the wrong places. Kevin Hart’s bunny was over the top as expected, no problem there, but Jenny Slate again in an animated film with animals who can talk? Really Illumination? You want to be Zootopia that bad? And you want to try AGAIN with Sing? It’s pretty pathetic. You’re going to get Albert Brooks to voice a character too (Marlon in Finding Nemo/Dory) The placement advertisement for NBC/Universal shows and movies like Fallon, Saturday Night Live, Seinfeld, The Voice and a blatant movie poster on a public transportation bus for Sing was so shriekingly stupid, I wanted to hold my middle finger up to screen. The good sides of this movie was that the dog characters were cute and the animation was good. That’s it. Illumination should wait a little longer before branching out of Despicable Me and Minions. I wouldn’t have seen this movie in theaters or on iTunes. Wait for Redbox and if you can on TV in 2018 folks.

8. Me Before You 2 Stars (7.5/10 on IMDB, 58% on Rotten Tomatoes)

I love Emilia Clarke, but she cannot choose a good film script to save her life. This movie makes me have very low expectations for the standalone Han Solo film due out in 2018. What a piece of crap this move is. What a piece of crap this story is. SPOILER ALERT: she fails at motivating the guy to live and love again. He commits suicide and gives her money in his will. What kind of a story is that? Why the hell would anyone want to read or watch this trash?

The acting felt like a chick-flick/rom-com with these two young up and coming actors, but the story just did not help. A matured and handsome Neville Longbottom was about the only upside of this movie. Lord Tywin Lannister himself (Charles Dance) couldn’t even deliver. This movie was trash. Wife hated the ending. I quote her saying “The end makes me want that two hours back.” There you go folks. If you like depressing romantic movies with lifetime movie/porno acting and no happy ending, this is your film! If not, don’t bother.

7. The Huntsman: Winter’s War 2 Stars (6.1/10 Stars on IMDB, 17% on Rotten Tomatoes)

I originally thought Snow White and the Huntsman would not have been garbage if it wasn’t for Kristen Stewart’s fugly frozen face with no emotion. I was wrong. The Huntsman was an even bigger turd. This movie was set up as a prequel/sequel to its predecessor. Yea, I know it doesn’t make sense, it didn’t work on screen either. I had to Wikipedia what exactly happened with the story after I finished the movie. This was another movie with too many A-listers and CGI to be any good. This movie was Warner Brothers throwing more money in the garbage to compete with Disney’s live action remakes. Warner Brothers takes another loss with their comic book universe (OH WE WILL BE GOING THERE TOO). Do not waste your time with this movie. Doesn’t go down as one of the worst movies I’ve ever seen because Jessica Chastain and Emily Blunt are just too good for that; but I prefer you just to watch Zero Dark Thirty and Sicario a second time than to waste your time with this turd.

6. Alice Through the Looking Glass 1.5 Stars (6.3/10 on IMDB, 30% on Rotten Tomatoes)

With Disney doing 16 films in 2016, surely not all of them were destined for greatness. Alice was the rotten one of the bunch. Another sequel/reboot to a mediocre film, Alice Through the Looking Glass was crappy CGI thrown up all over the silver screen with good costumes! I got it; it’s Attack of the Clones II! Horrible, horrible, horrible. 2016 may be the worst year of Johnny Depp’s life. With his mother’s death, his divorce, and his ex-wife’s domestic-abuse accusations, I don’t see how promoting this crap film made 2016 any better. I’m praying for big things for Johnny in 2017 (Seriously); I pray his career is resurrected with the fifth Pirates film, he enjoys touring with Alice Cooper and his super-group, and he has some a new year’s resolution to drop off some beer weight like myself. One of the worst of 2016, this film is not one you want to waste your time or money on.

5. Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice 1 Star (6.7/10 on IMDB, 27% on Rotten Tomatoes)

What a piece of crap. This movie was worse than Daredevil (2003), worse than Batman & Robin, worse than Punisher: War Zone, worse than Fantastic 4 (2015), worse than Ghost Rider. Yes, I need to say more. Screw Zack Snyder (director). Honestly, what a douchebag for making me hate a movie that comes out in modern day with all the brilliant actors and incredible technology and source content we have. Batman is my all time favorite character. I’ve been watching him as far as I can remember; since I could not walk. And Zack Snyder ruined every piece of what could have been good with this movie. To all of your Burton/Keaton fans, Campy Adam West fans, and Batman TAS fans; I’ve had enough of your garbage; Christian Bale’s performance and Christopher Nolan’s trilogy is the best on screen Batman ever. When we have something like that…why would you try to reboot it only 4 years later? And especially to not give Batman his own movie first…you put him in a Man of Steel sequel; it’s really offensive. All Batman fans should be offended by this turd of a movie. Superman has yet to have a fantastic live action movie. So why group Batman with that mess? It pisses me off. Henry Cavill’s Clark Kent reminds me of Hayden Christensen’s Anakin Skywalker from Star Wars Episodes II and III; such a whiny little wuss. Bro, YOU ARE FREAKING SUPERMAN; stop whining about why nobody likes you. Bro (Hayden Christensen), YOU ARE FREAKING DARTH VADER; stop whining about sand!

Ben Affleck does make a good Bruce Wayne; but his Batman costume is just the worst. Drawn on abs. Really? Bring back the nipples too please. As you can tell, I’m not going to see Justice League Part 1 due out in November or the Batfleck standalone. I’m done with DC. I’m done with WB for firing Nolan. My allegiance is with Disney-Marvel’s MCU, they haven’t disappointed me yet. If you want beautiful comic driven visuals, this movie has it. But, no one wants JUST THAT for 3 hours. Go smoke a bowl and read your comics instead, it’ll probably have the same effect.

4. Suicide Squad 1 Star (6.4/10 on IMDB, 26% on Rotten Tomatoes)

Gosh I hate the DCEU. I love the source content so much for me to rank this as #1 worst of 2016, but if it wasn’t for that, I would say this may be the worst movie I have ever seen. It’s hands down, the most disappointing movie I have ever seen. I knew Batman v Superman would suck, but I thought this movie would revive the DCEU, I was wrong. Warner Bros. marketed this entire film around Jared Leto’s Joker. And Jared Leto promoted the film centered on his character. WB made Leto’s character a measly cameo. Yes folks, in this 2 hour and 17 minute movie, Joker has 7 minutes of screen time. And it was 7 minutes too long. His character had nothing to do with the actual Suicide Squad other than Harley’s origin. Will Smith’s Deadshot was the real protagonist of the movie. It centered around him. So we get another Will Smith stinker. Yea guys, let’s be honest, Will Smith sucks now. He raised his son to be the biggest abomination to ever come out of Hollywood, and he has not done a good film in a decade (I Am Legend). His character was another (aw hell naw) felt misplaced, and Smith’s attempt to be gangsta, when he just isn’t. Your Hitch bro, just stop.

Margot Robbie is too hot to not watch this movie. Of course we all saw it, and we cannot admit that it sucks because of her. She is one of my favorite up and coming young actresses and she absolutely kills this role. She did such a good job it’s hard for me to rank this movie as the worst of 2016. The problems with this movie; where do I start? The marketing, the amount of plot holes, the villain, a character they literally created to kill off, the reason Joker was even in the movie, the ZERO respect they had for truly representing the source content for Harley and Joker’s relationship. Harley is supposed to a commodity/accessory to Joker’s madness and that’s it. But they made Harley Joker’s girlfriend and it just didn’t work. It also does not help that Jared Leto had to follow up to Heath Ledger. Ledger’s performance is arguably the greatest villain of all time. Leto was tatted gangster that wore make up and chains; that’s it. Not crazy nor sadistic, nor chaotic or psychotic; just a gangster. His character was a complete and utter joke. If you love the source material too much to not watch this film, I understand, if you just want to see Margot Robbie in short shorts and high heels and kick ass, I understand; but if you want to be entertained, do not watch this movie.

3. Sausage Party 1 Star. (6.4/10 on IMDB, 84% on Rotten Tomatoes)

For the record, I did not watch this film by choice, my wife rented it, and I watched it after I finished Hell or High Water. My ignorance got the best of me in that I knew nothing about it. And, I mean come on, Rotten Tomatoes gave it an 84%, how could it be bad?

Oh my gosh. Where do I start? The amount of childish sexual innuendos makes this movie look Donald Trump look like the Pope. This movie is full of “locker room talk.” This movie is point-blank offensive, immature, and stupid. And it was written by Seth Rogen and Jonah Hill; go figure. The animation is nothing great, the humor is cheap, not anything creative or new. Rogen’s attempts at making me laugh is quickly dying. Cussing, pot, and sexual humor gets old quickly. You cannot make the same movie over and over and put it in a different box and wrap with a nice shiny bow filled with a-listers. Seth Rogen must be stopped. This Is the End was the last movie he’s done that has made me laugh. The nostalgia of Pineapple Express, Freaks and Geeks, and Knocked Up is the only reason that movie caught my attention. This movie, I had no desire to see. Wife grabbed it at Redbox without my knowledge and I walked in on her watching it. I’d honestly rather walk in on her watching porn, at least we can have a good conversation from it. This movie was just a big “why?” She didn’t have an answer, and neither would I if I were in her shoes.

It is an R-rated animated movie with A-listers which is ironic, since we 99% see the opposite when it comes to the source content (G and Disney for dummies). Don’t see this movie, you’ll thank me for it.

2.  Quentin Tarantino’s 8th film .5 Star (really his 11th, I know the guy can’t count) The Hateful Eight (7.9/10 on IMDB, 75% on Rotten Tomatoes)

Tarantino said he would make 10 films and be done. He said this is the eighth BECAUSE: Kill Bills Vol 1 and Vol 2 is counted as 1, he’s not counting Death Proof as it fell under the “Grindhouse” 2 film presentation with Robert Rodriguez, and he is not counting his very first film starring himself. So, I’m hoping he doesn’t do any more stupid little projects and speed up to 10 so we can rid him from Hollywood.

Tarantino is over the top, he exaggerates reality making his own one, apparently all of his films are in the same “universe.” I don’t think Tarantino has given me any smiles since Inglorious Basterds. Another movie with Samuel L. Jackson, Michael Madsen, Tim Roth, and Walter Goggins, this movie with over the top bloody scenes did nothing for me. At least Django and Kill Bill were action packed, at least Inglorious Basterds had an incredible cast and was hilarious. I love that he used an Italian composer to try as hard as he could to make it feel like a spaghetti western; but it didn’t.

The whole movie takes place in a room, that’s right…in a room folks. Lots of blood, lots of not-so-mysterious mystery and lots of famous faces. This movie was like Tarantino was parodying his own genre of movies. It was so freaking dumb that it just pissed me off. Came out on New Year’s Day 2016, it kicked off what would be a pretty hateful year for many. Do not waste three hours of your time with this movie. You will want it back.

1.       The Lobster .25 Star (7.1/10 on IMDB, 90% on Rotten Tomatoes)

Sometimes you cannot trust Rotten Tomatoes. Nine out of Ten times they are right, this was the one time they were wrong. Top three worst movies I have ever seen in my life. This movie is a witty Cohen Brothers-esque adult version of The Hunger Games that was just plain weird. No, it was not funny, no it was not creative. It’s stupid. But guess what fam; STUPID GETS GOLDEN GLOBE AND OSCAR NOMINATIONS these days! Be honest with yourselves; if you saw it, HBO’s The Normal Heart was not good or well-acted. But in today’s day and age if you make a movie about gay people, you’re getting an Oscar nod. So, I guess now if you make a movie about something that’s just weird and stupid, you’ll get one too.

Here’s the synopsis: In a near-future’d dystopian world, to prevent over-populating, if you do not find a husband or wife at a certain age, you check into a hotel where you are forced to meet one in two months, if you don’t your body well be shredded an recycled for research and you will be turned into an animal (but not really, they will kill you, they just tell you that so you agree to the “transformation,” ie execution).

Yes, it is as stupid as it sounds. I never even finished the movie, I wikied the rest when there was about 25 minutes left, it wasn’t worth the rest of my valuable time.

I write this blog not to vent on how bad movies are, but I know YOUR time is valuable and it should be treated that way, not with garbage movies. Please take my word. I hope this blog was helpful. Please follow, like, share, comment! Bigger and better films to come in 2017! I will be your source! I have about 10 more films of 2016’s I will review before I crossover into 2017; stay tuned for those blogs!

Thanks guys!

Z