#he gets lied to and fucked over throughout pretty much the whole game by adults using him as a pawn because he is a child

[tornadodyke]

as i make my way through legend of zelda ocarina of time i am coming to terms with the fact that this is a story about children being failed by adults over and over again but i think nothing quite hammers in the fact that link is an actual literal child more than when you get down to your last health heart and his idle animation goes from him idling to him hunched over letting out these pained wheezes and it's like oh dear god this is a nine year old. i'm so so so so sorry i will get better at this game i promise

[giftwrappingpaper]

wangxian bakery au

prompt: "I'd love to enable a creator to write/draw that self-indulgent niche workplace AU they've always wanted to make."

Lan Zhan finds Wei Ying baking bread in the kitchen of a hole-in-the-wall bakery in Yiling.

-----

A low, all too familiar voice hesitantly calls his name. "Wei Ying?"

No fucking way. Wei Ying looks up, raised eyebrows wrinkling his flour-dusted forehead. Yep, that’s Lan Zhan alright; no matter how many years pass, Wei Ying could recognize that face anywhere. His sharp, meticulously perfect appearance makes him look like a high-fashion magazine model cutout slapped on a stock photo of yellowed plaster and secondhand baking equipment.

“No customers in the back,” Wei Ying advises before returning his attention to the dough in his hands. A picture of informality, with a small smirk playing on his lips — a half-hearted attempt to conceal the shock and surmounting panic bubbling in his gut.

How the hell did he find me? one side of his brain despairs, while the other side reassures that at least it isn’t Jiang Cheng.

Lan Zhan continues his stalwart breach of Burial Bakery’s kitchen. What a rebel. “Wei Ying,” he says again.

“That’s me.”

“You’re here.”

“Uh, yeah?”

“You’re in a...bakery. Baking.”

Wei Ying breathed in the calming smell of fresh sourdough and tangy levain. Thank the heavens he had been able to convince Wen Ning to take a lunch break, leaving Wei Ying to man the kitchen alone. This isn’t going to be pretty.

“That’s kinda what we do here, yeah,” he says, eyes trained on his workbench, crowded with floured bannetons and formless lumps of dough. “A helping hand would be nice. I’d appreciate that much more than the gawking.”

Lan Zhan blinks, jawing clenching and ears flushing. Wei Ying’s smirk lifts into something softer. Even after all this time, it’s still so easy to rile him up.

“How’d you even find me, anyway?” he wonders, stretching his dough flat against the workbench, stopping right when it’s about to rip. Gently, of course. Wouldn’t want to pop the gas built up after hours of proofing.

“The back door is open,” Lan Zhan answers faintly. His expression mirrors the face of a guy after finding a years-long missing sock long since chalked off as having been eaten by the dryer. “I saw you from the counter.”

A quick glance to the entrance confirms this. Wen Ning must’ve forgotten to close the door when he left. Damn, that’s no good. Can’t let the cold air flow in. Might mess with the dough proofing in the walk-in.

“Could you close that for me?” Wei Ying asks, briefly letting go of the dough to rub the back of his neck. When Lan Zhan continues to stand there, motionless like a beautiful, bewildered statue, Wei Ying tsks and says, “I’m not going anywhere, Lan Zhan. Gotta get yesterday's proofed loaves in the oven by the hour.”

Miraculously, Lan Zhan obeys. Wei Ying half expected him not to. He and Lan Zhan have never been the closest of friends; Wei Ying was an annoying student, and Lan Zhan has a zero tolerance for annoying classmates. But people can change, he supposes. It’s been over four years, and neither of them are the same people they were before Wei Ying packed up his things and gave up his cushioned life in the Jiang estate and his scholarship to one of the most prestigious universities in the country to start slumming it with the Wen siblings and A-Yuan in their closet of an apartment.

“Aw, thanks,” Wei Ying says when Lan Zhan returns. He belatedly realizes that he should’ve asked Lan Zhan to close the door behind him as he leaves the kitchen that he, as a non-employee, isn’t supposed to be in. Oh well; Wen Qing can chew him out for all the health codes he’s violating later. Isn’t she supposed to be manning the front? Lan Zhan must have snuck past her to get here, so she’s just as guilty.

“So you’ve been here the whole time?” Lan Zhan says, watching Wei Ying shape the dough. “Since you — left?”

“Basically.” Stitch the dough into itself. Then fold and tuck. Push the dough underneath itself with the palm of your hands to create surface tension, giving the newly formed loaf that tight, professional finish. Took Wei Ying ages to get the method down pat enough to be consistent. “Wanted to get out of the Jiangs’ hair, so I left soon after dropping out of uni.”

Dust the loaf with rice flour. Place it into a banneton, seam side up. Into the rack, then repeat. “A friend of mine had just inherited their family bakery. I volunteered to help out, and it eventually ended up becoming a full-time thing.”

Lan Zhan stands there without a word — not that Wei Ying minds. He hadn’t let himself dream they’d see each other again, hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up that he'd be lucky enough to see a familiar face again after all this time. Damn, he thinks, sneaking glance after glance between the loaves he’s shaping, he’s more handsome now than ever. Who knew the gorgeous teenager he’d harassed throughout two years of university would turn out to become a gorgeous adult who somehow stumbles into Wei Ying’s bakery? Even the unflattering cast of the yellow, flickering overhead light Wen Qing had been meaning to replace can’t wash out how black Lan Zhan’s hair is, how his skin is as smooth as a baby’s. How golden his eyes are, peering at Wei Ying as if he’s the sunrise after a long, cloudy night.

Bah. Where the hell did that come from? Maybe Wei Ying really is as self-centered as Aunt Yu claimed him to be.

“I wasn’t aware of your...baking aspirations,” Lan Zhan says, causing Wei Ying to choke out a laugh. He’d forgotten how funny Lan Zhan could be.

“Me neither,” Wei Ying admits. He sidesteps the kitchen mixer he’d spent the last year fixing up — he’d bought it in a sorry state, but Hobart engines are built to last a lifetime, and he couldn’t pass up the deal he paid for — to place another filled banneton into the rack. “But I’m not too mad at where I’ve ended up. Speaking of. How did you end up here?”

Lan Zhan's shoulders hunch suspiciously, and Wei Ying's eyebrows arch into fucking parabolas. “I wanted bread,” Lan Zhan replies defensively. “So I went to a bakery.”

Wei Ying scoffs, unimpressed. “A bakery all the way in Yiling?”

Lan Zhan glances away. “I travel a lot for work.”

Fine — he’ll let it go for now. “Well, as long as you don’t tell anyone back home about this, I guess it’s fine.” Wei Ying pauses. “You’re not gonna rat me out, are you?”

The thought should scare him, but a traitorously large part of him thrills at it instead. The Jiangs' are a key food supplier for the Lans' hotel chain, so Lan Zhan has to have some form of communication with them. Does Jiejie think about him from time to time? And Jiang Cheng...well. They’re still brothers, aren't they? Surely he must, at some small capacity, miss him.

But no brotherly love, whatever left there may be, could erase this: the cold silence that hung over the Jiang family table whenever Wei Ying would show up for dinner. Aunt Yu’s constant disapproval and Jiang Cheng’s wavering willingness to put up with it. The car ride. The screech of metal. The hospital said their Range Rover flipped four times. Wei Ying must have passed out after the first. But he was lucky: only a broken arm and whiplash. He had lied about being too hurt to attend the funeral.

It had been a good decision to leave. It had to be.

The back of his neck stings; a constant reminder. He hangs his head low as he stitches the dough.

“I’m not going to...rat you out,” Lan Zhan denies. He’s closer than he’d been since the last time Wei Ying looked up, his slack-clad hip brushing against the corner of Wei Ying’s workbench. “Not if you don’t want me to.”

“I don’t. Thanks.” Another banneton in the rack. Slower output than usual. He’s going to have to speed up to reach today’s quota. He gestures to the door. “Now, if you’re not gonna help out…”

Lan Zhan doesn’t take the hint. “You left. Without saying goodbye.”

“Must’ve forgotten to leave a note,” Wei Ying says, nonplussed.

“No one knew where you had gone off to.”

“Kinda preferred it that way.”

“But I didn’t —” Lan Zhan stops. Takes a breath. This is the most emotional Wei Ying has ever seen him, if mildly discomfited could constitute as emotional.

When he meets Wei Ying’s eyes again, his face is in its usual state of aloofness. “I was worried about you,” he tells him. “I wish I had known that you were alright.”

A block of guilt presses on Wei Ying’s shoulders. “Oh,” he says. “Sorry.”

Lan Zhan shakes his head. “Don’t apologize.”

“It’s just — with all that happened with the, the accident, and the handling of the estate —”

“You don’t need to explain anything to me you’re not comfortable with.”

“And my relationship with Jiang Cheng was down the fucking gutter —”

“He misses you.”

“I just felt that it everything would’ve been better off if —”

“I understand.”

“— I just left, y’know?”

At this, Lan Zhan frowns. “I fail to see how your sudden disappearance made anything better,” he says.

“Well, you weren’t there.” Wei Ying sighs, and what little fight he had to defend himself from the past drops to the floor. “I don’t want to argue with you.”

Lan Zhan bristles. “I didn’t mean to — that’s not why I’m here.”

Then why are you here? But Wei Ying is done playing this game. “Look, it’s really nice to see you again. But I kind of have a lot on my plate right now, so if you don’t mind.” This time, his gesture to the door is clear. Leave.

Of course Lan Zhan doesn’t leave; he’s always been so damn stubborn. After a beat, he walks over to the empty sink — Wei Ying prefers to wash the dishes as he goes — and washes his hands. Dries them. Rolls up the sleeves of his button up, revealing forearms Wei Ying can’t help but swallow at. Makes his way to Wei Ying’s side, staring down at the lumps of dough like how a runner glares at the bottom of her shoe after stepping on a pile of dogshit.

“Alright,” he says, “how do I do this?”

Wei Ying blinks. “What?” he asks, like an idiot.

Lan Zhan experimentally cups the nearest dough mound with his palms. It sticks to his hands as he lifts them, streaks of the stuff already clinging to his slender fingers.

“Gross,” he says, monotone, pinching two ends to stretch it; an imitation, Wei Ying realizes, of his own technique.

Wei Ying stares. An incredulous smile spreads across his lips. “You’re —” He laughs. “You’re so weird, Lan Zhan.”

Lan Zhan squints at him, confused, hands still making a mess out of the dough. “You asked for my help.”

Perhaps all those years away from home was enough penance for, at the very least, this. “Yeah," he says, soft. "I guess I did.” Wei Ying sways closer to Lan Zhan’s side. He discreetly sniffs the air in a selfish bid to find...ah, there it is, masked between notes of wheat flour and sourdough starter: sandalwood aftershave, brushing past Wei Ying's nose when Lan Zhan turns to him with an expectant glance.

Wei Ying laughs again. “No, not like that. Like this.”

He lays a floured hand over Lan Zhan’s and, together, they get to work.

-----

also posted on ao3

promo post on twitter

fic commissions

[statusquoergo]

And we’re back! Everyone will definitely be bringing their A-game after that nice little hiatus, yeah? This episode is going to hit it out of the park for sure.

Well, maybe.

The sexism and misogyny really hit the ground running as Harvey, preparing to accompany Samantha to Pittsburgh to meet her biological father, ambles into the living room to ask Donna if she’s “sure [she’s] okay with [him] going on this trip” because “not a lot of women would want their men doing this.” Fortunately Donna is “not a lot of women,” so Harvey has permission to go hang out with other girls, and without supervision, even! What a lucky guy. Not only that, but Donna points out that while any of them would willingly accompany Samantha, Harvey is uniquely qualified to understand what she’s going through because of his long-term estrangement from his mother, which, I mean, yeah, I guess so. Except then she says she loves him and he replies “Thanks,” which is a huge waste of a perfect opportunity to say “I know,” and then, for the first time this season, he says “I love you too,” smothered under an obnoxious cough into his fist, because he’s a mature adult who’s in touch with his emotions but he’s not too mature and he’s not a girl or anything.

Back at lawyerly headquarters, Louis takes advantage of Harvey’s two-day absence by sitting in his desk chair and contemplating listening to his records, gushing that he “can finally be Harvey Specter, and no one will ever know.” Yeah, there’s definitely no way anyone who works at this firm knows that’s Harvey’s office and might walk by and ask what he’s doing in there, of course not. He then sets off the comedic half of the episode by answering Harvey's phone and sort-of-but-also-not-really-accidentally setting up a meeting with “the Ted Tucker,” who wants a meeting with Harvey and he wants it today. Fortunately for Louis, Tucker has never actually met Harvey, and…you know where this is going.

Harvey pulls up to Samantha’s place in a vintage Ford Mustang (I want to say it’s a 1967) that stirs up some Feelings for her; he offers to take it back to the car club and exchange it, but she says it’s fine because she just wants to get on the road, and here comes the sentimental half: Twenty-five years ago, twelve-year old Samantha was…in a group home? With one other kid? Unclear, but the important part is that she lived in a house with some kid named Adam and their abusive father…figure, Ron. One day Adam and Samantha accidentally broke the tail light on Ron’s brand new car, a Mustang identical to the one Harvey’s driving; Samantha took the blame even though Adam threw the ball that broke the light, and Ron beat her for it, so. Feelings.

Louis shows up at Donna’s office in a truly horrifying wig (he calls it his “Harvey wig,” if you’d like to conjure up that mental image; yeah, kind of, but more chestnut-colored) for some information that’ll let him demonstrate to Tucker that signing him would be a conflict of interest, and to her credit, Donna begs him to take the wig off, but when Louis explains that he just wants to feel like Harvey for one lunch, she agrees to help him even though it’s “a really bad idea.” I’m gonna give her partial credit on this one; good intentions, poor execution.

Except then we actually get to see Louis at the lunch and dear lord, Donna, how could you let this happen? Someone on the writing staff (Korsh) is definitely indulging in one hell of a narcissistic fantasy by way of Louis, who, doing a pretty decent imitation of Harvey’s walk, waltzes into some high-end club or resort or something, passing through an endless gauntlet of waiters and attendants who each usher him toward the inner sanctum with a Stepford smile and a solicitous “Mr. Specter,” until he ends up at a table with Tucker, who informs him that the reason they’re surrounded by a ridiculous number of trays of food is, get this: “Well, I didn’t know what you liked, so I just ordered the entire menu.”

This fucking show, I swear.

Things only go downhill from there (from my perspective, not Louis’s) as Louis boisterously recounts a number of stories from Harvey’s life, including “Life is like this, I like this,” and that time Harvey brought Rachel to pick Mike up from prison in a limo. Tucker grinds the festivities to a screeching halt when he asks if Harvey knew Mike Ross was a fraud when he hired him, but fortunately for Louis, A Few Good Men is Tucker’s favorite movie, so screaming “You can’t handle the truth!” in his face is enough to make everyone forget about that silly question and get right back to their sinful indulgences. These people all have such integrity, it’s amazing.

Turns out a traumatic childhood isn’t Samantha’s only connection to the Mustang; Eric Kaldor also used to drive one, which skeeves Harvey out until Samantha assures him that when Harvey drives it, he does “make it look cool.” This dynamic is weirding me out so much; a week ago, she fucks over Mike Ross, Harvey furiously declares that he doesn’t trust people who lie to his face, Faye (justifiably) fires her, and then suddenly, with zero transition, it’s all hands on deck to get her back at the firm, and now on top of that, Harvey's her biggest cheerleader and also road trip buddy? That whole “I don’t trust you anymore,” was that just a hissy fit or what? I don’t… I don’t know what to do with this, I don’t like it.

Oh, wait, more flashbacks: Samantha and Adam steal Ron’s car to drive off in the middle of the night. Samantha, evidently recounting this story to Harvey, explains that they were pulled over on account of the broken tail light, but she assures him that “it could’ve been worse,” being that she ended up with a new family and neither of them had to go back to their abuser, and also she doesn’t know whatever happened to Adam so I guess he might show up sometime in the next three episodes maybe. I really wish I cared more.

That sounds mean, but hear me out a minute: Samantha was introduced in the beginning of Season 8. In fact, “The Greater Good” (s08e13) gives her her very own expository sub-plot courtesy of Judy O’Brien, through whom we learn…very little about Samantha’s experience in foster care, except who Judy is and what Samantha’s relationship is to her, which doesn’t matter at all because it never comes up again. (Well, it will in a bit, but not in any really important way.) It’s basically a waste of an opportunity to tell us things about Samantha that we don’t already know because all it does is build incrementally on things that we do, but in ways that are irrelevant. All the rest of the hints the show drops throughout the season about her backstory are shadowy and vague and mainly serve to establish her as an enigmatic figure whose mysterious past I guess I’m supposed to be dying to learn about, except that right from the start, “Right-Hand Man” (s08e01) establishes that she lies about her past to suit her own interests, so from the very beginning, I’m inherently suspicious of everything she says about herself, which makes it really hard to empathize with her.

The problem with the way her past is revealed is that it’s not really a running subplot, or a continuous arc; little hints and features are dropped here and there, but only insofar as they relate to a given episode’s broader narrative (i.e., she was a Marine, which is only relevant in “Special Master” [s09e02] for that odious misrepresentation of PTSD), which makes it feel like they’re invented on the spot because hey, we don’t really know much about her, who’s to say this or that didn’t happen? If you pay close attention, you might be able to collect enough clues to piece together a complete story, but with everything else that’s going on in this show, I gotta say, I really can’t be bothered. Especially when I have no idea how much of that story is even true.

Right, so, remember how Samantha knows that Kaldor has a Mustang? Well we seem to have graduated real quick from twelve-year old flashback Samantha to twenty-seven year old flashback Samantha, who reveals that while working a case together, she and Kaldor became…involved.

Ew.

Oh but wait. Out of absolutely fucking nowhere, present day Samantha decides “it’s time [she and Harvey] talk about the elephant in the room.” Not “[her] getting fired because of [him]” (she didn’t, she got fired for fabricating evidence), but “why [she] fabricated that evidence in the first place.” Harvey points out the obvious, that he already knows she did it because she hates to lose, and she asks, if he knows that, why he got so mad at her for doing it. (Oh I don’t know, maybe because she fabricated evidence.) Answer? “Because [he] told Mike [they] wouldn’t cross any lines.” And even though their client wasn’t technically doing anything illegal, “Mike’s always on [him] about doing the right thing, and now he’s out there walking the walk, and the least [Harvey owes] him is to think about right and wrong once in awhile.” (Uh, yeah, did he miss the part in “Promises, Promises” [s08e03] where he got their landlord to pay the maintenance staff a fair wage because he felt bad for the facilities manager? And I quote: “David, all I’m asking is do the right thing.”)

Oh but then.

“You really admire him, don’t you?” “I don’t just admire him, Samantha. He went to prison for me. Talk about someone who’s got your back.”

Okay. So… Okay. Yes, that is a thing that happened. It was a very big deal. Mike and Harvey spent six whole episodes fighting over which of them was going to be the one to take the fall. Except then Season 7 happened, and Mike spent sixteen episodes becoming increasingly distant from and combative with Harvey, culminating in that disastrous farewell at the wedding that Mike didn’t even invite him to. And then “If the Shoe Fits” (s09e05) happened, wherein Mike literally started off the case by promising Harvey not to do anything that could result in either of them being disbarred and finished it by doing exactly that, wrapping up his visit by condemning Harvey for having lost himself because yes, of course, Harvey’s the one who was being a dick that whole time.

Yet apparently, even after all that, Harvey still thinks Mike walks on water. I guess that does kind of help explain his behavior and the exceedingly weird dialogue the last time Mike showed up; Harvey’s got a little hero worship going on, or at the very least, he still has an enormous blind spot where Mike is concerned. On the plus side, there’s my quota of evidence for the episode that Harvey needs to go to therapy like, yesterday.

And about that whole evidence fabrication thing, props to Samantha for admitting that if “[she] could go back and do it all over again, [she] wouldn’t.” Donna could learn a thing or two from her.

Speaking of Donna, Louis hurries in to tell her that his lunch with Tucker was “the greatest lunch of [his] life,” all “because [he’s] Harvey Specter.” But things hit a little snag when he tried to demonstrate that SLWW would have a conflict of interest representing Tucker as well as some company called Reed Communications, because Tucker waived the conflict by buying Reed Communications on the spot, and that’s not even Louis’s only problem because Reed Communications’ in-house counsel is, dun dun dun! Harold Gunderson! Who wants to set up a meeting with Harvey, who knows nothing about any of this. Louis determines that since thinking like Louis got him into this mess, thinking like Harvey is going to get him out of it, and I’m confused, wasn’t the whole point of all this for him to be Harvey? Who’s he been thinking like all day? Way to commit to the role, man, no wonder you’re not an actor.

Filler time: Ten-years-ago Samantha and Kaldor have been together for six months and it’s been “one of the best six months of [his] entire life.” (Seems to me like a weird unit to increment his life by, but hey, man, whatever floats your boat.) In the present day, Harvey suggests stopping for burgers, but Samantha wants to get to their destination before dark, so he’ll settle for some M&M’s at the gas station. Equivalent exchange for the win.

Part II

[hello-itsyaboi-blog]

A Holtcest Christmas (CH 1: Mittens)

(While I’m waiting on the AO3 email invitation, I’ll post this here. The plan was to write one big-o fic and have each chapter revolve around the theme of the day for Holtcest Week. But I just don’t have time, so I’ll finish this after finals at the end of the month. Also, first real fic I’m working on since 2011 or so OOF))

Christmas (and Christmas Eve) were not Katie's favorite holidays. At least, not anymore. As an adult, she saw everything for what it really was. Specially her family relations. At least, her father's side of the family. As one grows older, one learns of the 'family secrets' and everything about family becomes clear.

Katie finally knew why Aunt Melissa and her mother didn't get along, and why Uncle Thomas didn't like her very much: it because of her ambiguous sexuality (he was what Matt would call "a bible humper"). Her Grandfather resented her father for leaving for college instead of staying behind and helping him take care of the family farm. Nevertheless, Katie couldn't confront any of these people about directly. Instead, she had to do what they all did: pretend any issues didn’t exist. Just avoid the problem.

And so, she did. Katie followed everyone's actions by just pretending to love all her family members for the next few years. Thanksgiving was sometimes celebrated, sometimes not. But Christmas was always mandatory. Since she could remember, her parents, Matt and her always visited Sam's side of the family for Christmas. It wasn't until recently, about five or six years ago, that they started to visit Colleen's side of the family. They rotated each Christmas from that point on, seeing Sam's family one year, them Colleen's family the next year, and so on.

Sitting by the colorful Christmas tree, sipping on a cup of hot chocolate with mini marshmallows and sprinkles, Katie sat on one of her uncle's white couches. She was next to one of the younger cousins in the family watching a movie someone put on the television (even if the chatter drowned out most of the tv sound).

"Pidge" a voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "Huh?" She asked, looking around until her eyes fell upon her older Brother Matt. He was the only person she knew well enough. Truly knew him, unlike anyone else in that room.

"You alright? You're quiet" the taller male asked her, sitting on the armrest of the couch, right next to her. 

"Yeah I'm alright, I'm just watching the movie" Katie replied, keeping her eyes glued to the screen to avoid eye contact. But Matt knew her too well to buy into that.

"Do you want to talk outside?"

She hesitated a little before looking up at him and nodded. The two siblings then got up without another word and left the house. They were at their uncle’s home in Minnesota, which was near the end of a hill, surrounded by trees. Their uncle, Jerry, owned a big piece of land, so there were also a lot of questionable things built throughout. The most normal thing on the property was a wooden closet with rusty gardening tools among other unidentifiable pieces of metal, but the rest consisted of wooden crosses thought the property. The bottom of the crosses was always a tree stump, meaning part of a tree was cut down and the rest was used to carve the cross out of it. Those always gave Katie the creeps.

"Sooo..." Matt began as he led the way out of the door and into the front yard, which was covered with a few inches of white and cold snow. Katie followed, sinking her hands into her jacket as the cold air hit her the more they descended away from the house. If she had brought gloves, she would suggest that they make a snowman. It never snowed back in California (at least not in their city) but she wasn’t going to risk getting frostbite.

"You know how I feel about these sort of things" she spoke, eyes watching her boots as they shuffled through the snow.

"I know, I know, but we gotta pretend. They're still family and we are kind of stuck in the middle of nowhere" the older teen shrugged, coming to a stop once they were far enough from the house so that the noise coming from it wasn't distracting. All the chatter and holiday music coming from the house was quite distracting.

"Yeah, still family. And despite that, uncle Jerry and Aunt Judy fucked. Everyone knows"

"Welp! This convo escalated quickly, but yeah. And everyone pretends it didn't happen. It’s messed up but we're already here. Might as well not be miserable the whole time and dwell on all this drama." He sighed, "We can try to hang out away from the adults. Pretty sure everyone our age is upstairs playing some video games or something"

Katie shook her head. "No, I don't want to. Well, at least not now. Can we just stay out here for a while?" She asked. If it were up to her, she would be outside the whole time just talking with Matt and not be near their family. The only thing she had in common with these people is lineage, DNA but that was it. But that meant nothing. It was all a façade.

"Only for a while. It's cold out here" Matt replied watching the outline of her hands that showed through her jacket. Eye contact was not his strong point, often looking at whatever was behind the person he was talking to, any jewelry or accessories they had, or even just looking around. Anywhere but their eyes. It often came off as strange or disrespectful to other people, but it was a bad habit he had trouble breaking. However, with Katie (and his parents, to an extent) it was different. There was never a time where he would avoid her gaze throughout the whole conversation; he always looked into those pretty brown eyes that were much like his own. His gaze was quite low for a few moments, but Katie didn’t mind. Though, there were times where she wished he would look a little lower. But she often shook those away, blaming them on her hormones. "You're cold, aren't you?" Matt asked after a few moments, his gaze shooting back up to her eyes. A small grin curled in his lips, expecting Katie to deny it.

"No, I'm not!" she lied, turning her back towards the house. Matt did the same, not pushing the issue further. It was always fun to tease her a little bit, to brighten up the mood a little bit specially now. 

"Okay, okay. Anyway-..."

"Anyway, I just wish we could spend Christmas with mom's family. We barely see them" she explained, frowning slightly and flopped down on the snow, regretting it instantly. But she hid the pain, shrugging off the cold stinging sensation as best as she could and looking back at Matt when he spoke. Hearing him out just helped sometimes because Matt's voice could put her at ease while no one else’s voice in the world could.

"I wish we could see them too. But we’ll see them next Christmas and hopefully the one after that. Dad's getting tired of everyone's attitude over here. So, we might be able to convince him to just not drag us out here anymore. You, mom, and I can convince dad for sure. Three against one"

Katie chuckled, "you have a point there" but she stopped chuckling and sighed, "But I just wish dad had realized earlier. He obviously doesn't like coming. He doesn't HAVE to come and bring us with him"

"And that's true. You don't owe, wait lemme just..." He groaned and slowly sat next to her in the snow, feeling the extreme cold and getting up again to squat back down next to her instead.

"...yeah, like you don't owe anyone anything. Just because they're family, it doesn't mean you'd be betraying them for not wanting to be around their toxicity"

"Only took him a couple of years to realize it" the smaller female mumbled.

"Yeah. But better late than never. He's realizing it now" Matt shrugged. "C'mon, let's go back inside. Maybe we can get a turn in whatever game they're playing" he spoke as he got up, but she grabbed a hold of his hand and held it tightly. 

She wasn’t tall enough to grab his arm once he was up but, in a way, she was glad. Even if it was just for a few seconds, holding his hand in hers felt nice.

"Nooo, let's stay out here for a little while longer, please?" she pleaded, making her eyes look as big and watery as she could make them. The Look usually worked when she wanted to get something from someone unless it was Keith or their mother. Her mother got annoyed for the most part while Keith just didn’t understand how that was supposed to persuade him. He would always tell Katie it looked like she needed to sneeze.

"Pidge, don't..." The male began and looked away, but he could still see her in the corner of his eye. "...fine. Five minutes tops 'cause it's too cold for this. On one condition though"

"Which is?"

"We change the subject. You're way too moody right now for my liking"

Katie snorted at that, rising to her feet and dusting some snow off her. Her backside felt a little frozen, but she was too stubborn to go back inside immediately and warm up. Also, in a way, Matt would be winning if they did that. "That's fine. What do YOU wanna talk about?"

"I dunno. Something positive or funny" the male shrugged, looking at the many trees surrounding them. Then his gaze drifted off to the mountains in the distance, which had snow on their tips. Matt loved being surrounded by nature. Sure, he wouldn't pursue it out of his own volition but whenever he was dragged out to it, he didn’t complain. Pidge, on the other hand, wasn't the outdoors type, even if she was dragged out to it.

"Something positive? Well, it seems like you're liking the view…guess that's a positive" Katie said, watching him for a few moments. She found it cute, the way his eyes seemed to tinkle as he dozed off and the faint smile that curved at the corner of his lips. Perhaps she just liked seeing him happy.

"Hm? Sorry, I didn't hear what you said" Matt said, shaking his head and turning his attention back to his younger sister. He had felt her staring (which he too enjoyed), he just didn't hear exactly what she said.

"I said, I can't really think of anything positive or funny. I can think of something funny, but that is not really positive?" She said, though that last part was more of a question.

"If it's funny, it's fine. Shoot"

"Alright. Well, I'm pretty sure I saw Mackenzie kiss Daniel"

“Gross!” Matt laughed, “though, you’re not too pure yourself!”

“Come again?” the girl questioned, raising an eyebrow at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well” he began, briefly departing his gaze in an opposite direction, “you keep bringing up the incest shit”

“Yeah, because it’s weird. And funny” she explained, but deep down she knew it was for another reason. She had thought about it before, hadn’t she? What it would feel like to be that close with Matt. Closer than what siblings are supposed to be. Whenever she felt bold, she’d try to get physically close, but this was the first time she tried insinuating anything in a conversation. Bringing up subjects like this was the most she could actually do. Out of curiosity, she just wanted to see his reactions to these sorts of things.

Matt locked his gaze on some trees in the distance once again, and there is stayed for a few moments before he spoke, “I mean, they’re from the south so its kind of expected. Though, if it continues their genetic diversity will decrease and- “

“Birth defects”

“Yup.” He finally looked back at her and got up with a groan. “I can’t feel my thighs. I dunno if it’s because of the cold or ‘cause I’ve been squatting for so long. C’mon, let’s head back inside” Matt said, looking over and nodding in the direction of the house before walking towards it. Katie followed suit while huffing in annoyance, her breath visible due to the cold. However, once they were in the porch Matt stopped in his tracks. 

“Wait, actually” he began, turning around so that his back was facing the door.

“What?”

“I forgot something in the car. Let’s go get it before we go inside”

*    *     *  

The Holts had to rent a car shortly after arriving, due to the remote location of the family get together. Sam and Matt had taken turns driving so Matt still had the keys with him. After unlocking the door, he slipped inside the passenger seat and opened the glove compartment. Katie just stood beside him and leaned in closer to get a peek at whatever he was getting. Shiny red wrapping paper was visible in an unsorted shape as Matt brought it out.

“What’s that?” Katie asked, staring at it as she wondered what was inside. Matt was never good at wrapping presents or anything that involved tape, scissors or glue.

“Your Christmas present. I didn’t wanna give it to you in front of them so, might as well give it to you now. Hope you like it.” He handed the gift to her and awaited her reaction. Katie took her hands out of her pockets and took the gift wrapped in red wrapping paper. “I know it’s kinda lame but…yeah’

“It’s soft” she thought out loud and ripped the paper away to reveal a pair of green and fluffy mittens. A smile spread across her lips while she slipped on the mittens. “They’re not lame, I love them!”

He chuckled, a warm feeling forming in the pit of his stomach when her eyes lit up like that. And that smile of hers somehow made his heart beat faster. Suddenly, she moved closer and wrapped hers arms around him to bring him into a hug. He did the same, wrapping his arms around Katie’s waist and holding her tightly. Maybe a little too tightly because Katie let out a grunt when he squeezed. But it was still comforting to be held that tightly in his arms, taking in his warmth and taking in his scent. In the back of her mind, she knew she shouldn’t feel this way, but it was just so…pleasant to be this close to him.

After a few moments Matt pulled away and Katie did the same, but she wished they could have stayed like that for a while longer. But that would be a little weird. 

“Do you wanna stay in the car for a while longer? I can turn on the heater and we can just chill” Matt suggested, causing Katie to chuckle a little.

“Why didn’t you say that earlier?!”

“I didn’t think of it. Why didn’t YOU say something?” Matt retorted, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, I didn’t think of it”

“Exaclty!”

 *        *        *

"I wish we had some weed right now. We could hot box the car" Matt laughed lightly, slouching down to get more comfortable in the warmth of the car seat. They were in the back seats of the car.

"Yeah, but we couldn't have taken any on the plane anyway" Katie replied with a shrug, rubbing her hands together. She still had the mittens on, even though the heater was on in the car and they were a little sweaty but she refused to take them off. It was nice to get away from everyone else for the time being and be around Matt. Just Matt. "We should probably turn off the heater before we kill the battery"

"Yeah.  But you're closer..."

With a roll of the eyes Katie took off her right mitten, got off the seat and made her way between the two front seats, leaning over and shutting off the heater. She also shut off the ignition.

As wrong as it was, Matt's eyes drifted onto Katie's backside. He was sure it was just an impulse and nothing more. It wouldn't be the first time Matt's eyes wondered around her body. Specially in the summer and spring when she wore those summer dresses and skirts which left her smooth legs exposed. He always told himself it was just curiosity or instinct to look at her legs or her shoulders when they were exposed, but did that explain the urge to know how she looked underneath those summer clothes? Probably not.

After shutting everything off, Katie flopped back down onto the backseat landing a little closer to Matt than earlier. She slipped the right mitten back on her hand before turning back to Matt, whom was already watching her.

"...I low-key wish I was stoned right now"

She snorted, "You’re stoned half the time. And you already said that"

"I mean, yeah but I really wanna. Just think about it, we could be stoned here in the car, maybe watch a movie on my laptop and just chill 'til mom or dad noticed we’re missing"

"That actually sounds really nice. Maybe next year when we spend Christmas with mom's family" Katie spoke, moving her gaze away from Matt and out the front window though not much was visible due to the condensation.

"I mean we don't have to wait that long. Maybe once we get home when mom and dad have one of their date nights we can just relax" he continued while looking at her. That feeling in the pit of his stomach, a warmth that swirled and swirled around, wouldn't go away. He needed to be closer to her. In the back of his mind, he knew exactly what he wanted from her. But that would be inappropriate. Disgusting. But he also wanted it. This always happened every few weeks, the feeling would go away and then come back. Maybe it would go for months at a time and then bam, he’s thinking about it and about her. But right now, those feelings and those thoughts were more intense than ever before. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance she was curious or even felt the same way. He could test the grounds.

"True. If they knew we smoked or ate edibles they'd kill you"

"Me?!"

"Of course! They wouldn't think their sweet little girl would ever do such a thing unless she was peer pressured to do so" she increased the pitch of her voice as much as she could and made her eyes big and watery to give him her best Look.

"You're 19! Little my ass. And it’s no fair you always get to use that look to get out of trouble"

"It’s not, but if it gets me out of trouble oh well" she then stuck her tongue out at him. "But as long as we keep it a secret, we should be just fine"

"Yeah, then we could uh you know, Netflix and chill or some shit" Matt said, heart now racing as he awaited her reaction. Heat rose to his cheeks, feeling the thumping of his heart against his chest. Maybe he shouldn’t have opened his big mouth. But wasn’t that much of a weird thing to say, right? It was a meme and he could just play it off as a joke if he needed to, right?

Sand colored eyes stared up at a pair that mirrored her own, unsure of what to think of how to respond to something like that. She probably should respond as soon as she could because if she lingered on that thought for too long it would seem strange. But she was also curious as to why he would joke like that, specially when the subject of incest came up earlier.

“Netflix and chill with your sister?” she spoke slowly, pressure lingering on every word as she bought herself more time. After a few more seconds it was followed with, “now what’s that supposed to mean?”

There was no hostility or confusion in her voice as she asked this. She just chuckled lightly and let herself smile. It was somehow nice to think of it that way, thinking that he wanted to be that close to her. As close as a couple would. It wasn’t like she thought about it very often, in fact, whenever those thoughts and those feelings crawled out from the back of her head, she’d do her best to push them away and ignore them. But here they were by themselves bringing up subjects they shouldn’t. Maybe the Holts just didn’t know much about subtlety.

But the male hesitated, putting his words together as best he could before speaking, “I uh suppose it means I was joking about incest. L-like you were when you brought up aunt Melissa earlier. Maybe we should head back, it’s getting cold in here-”

“So, you’re joking about fucking your little sister, huh?” she teased, her lips moving as soon as the words popped into her head. Somehow her filter had temporarily stopped, unable to process what was on her mind before she spoke; this had never happened before in her life. They had crossed the line rather suddenly.

“Do you want to fuck me, Matt?”

If Matt’s cheeks were not red like a tomato before they sure were now as he took in what she just said. No. He couldn’t respond. Did she know? Did he actually want to answer that? After all, he started it. It got too real really fast. And as much as he wanted to say ‘yes’ and pin her down on the backseat, he knew he couldn’t. They shouldn’t. Not here. Not when their whole family is just a few feet away in the house. He had to leave before anything he might regret happens.

Without another word, the male opened the door and stepped out of the car, not caring to close it and just walking towards the house, the music and chatter getting louder and louder as he approached.

“What the fuck, Matt?” he whispered to himself, walking away from the car and to the house as fast as he could. That didn’t happen. It was one of those scenarios that he played in his head, those that he imagined prior to saying something stupid. That didn’t actually happen, right?

The wood of the front porch creaked as he stepped on it and then moved to the door. He opened it and was greeted with now louder chatter and the obnoxious music that the siblings wanted to escape in the first place. Closing the door behind him, he made his way past a few relatives that stood around just talking while simultaneously getting in everyone’s way. Walking past the kitchen and up the stairs, he headed to where all the younger relatives were playing video games. As he did, Matt put his hands in his pockets and thought about Katie. At least her hands wouldn’t be cold.

[caasiturner]

Hurricanes and Jon.

Jon Bellion is an extremely talented artist. My favorite album of his is The Human Condition. Every single song is a straight banger, his beats stir up all kinds of emotion, and his lyrics speak to the depths of my soul. My favorite track is, however, Hand of God.  Throughout the song he speaks of his stresses, ex-girlfriends, and the struggle of life. The line that really resonates with me is,

“ I might break

Angry at all the things, angry at all the things I can't change

When you're lost in the universe, lost in the universe

Don't lose faith

My mother says, "Your whole life's in the hand of God"

Nothing has changed, he is the same

"Your whole life's in the hand of God"

That’s hard for me to accept. I can’t see that hand. We sung about it a lot growing up, “He’s got the whole world in his hands, etc, etc. etc.” We talked in Sunday School about how there’s a God who’s got His eye “on the sparrow”. We are told there’s someone who knows our every need. But as an adult it’s really hard to believe.

As I’ve reiterated countless times before I tend to be a doubting Thomas in search of constant reassuarance. A person who needs tangibles, reasons, hard data and evidence. I need to figure everything out, most likely due to never knowing during my childhood. I need to be able to hang onto things, to fully understand. I don’t take things at face value, I research, I make hypothesis and test them, I deduce and find the answer.

But life has a sense of humor.

Every time I start to figure out things the slightest bit, I am humbled, reset, back handed if you will. This year I finally saved my first thousand dollars. Now maybe to you that’s insignificant. For me it was huge. I grew up under the poverty line, and through a lot of sweat and blood, I’ve been paying my own way since I was 17. To finally see four digits in my savings was an amazing feeling.

I struggle hanging onto relationships. I’ve been transparent about this multiple times. It’s been hard getting over my latest relationship mostly because she was nearly everything I thought I wanted. Some days it’s hard to believe there’s something better out there. Or that I am even meant to be with someone. But, after not speaking since summer I finally felt in a good place mentally and emotionally.

Then this week happened.

My clutch in my car is now shot. It’s gonna cost over five-hundred dollars to fix. Everything I worked for is gone in a single day. Just like that.

The girl I felt I had finally moved on from texted me, asking for help. My heart literally dropped and I wasn’t sure how to feel. Anger in the fact you hit me up because you need something. Confusion in why would you turn to me. Eagerness to assist and concern in because I still care for you as a person no matter the past.

I yelled at the sky. I’m frustrated. Angry even. Tired of fighting. Aching for this horrid year of 2018 to be over.

I feel like a ship trying to weather a storm. Every time I conquer one wave, yet another crashes down. I feel like I’ll never get my head above the water, as if God Himself finds a sadistic joy in personally holding me under. I strive and fight so hard, yet all ends the same. Empty. Meaningless. Hopeless even.

I just want to figure this all out. Know what I’m suppose to be doing. Know what I’m doing wrong. Know why everything is a constant struggle. Know why am I even here or what my purpose is.

People say I bless their life all the time. I’m so genuine or so kind or so this and blah blah blah. You don’t know me. You can’t even imagine half of what I’ve felt or gone through. Walk a mile in my shoes and you’d probably trip over the size of my feet. You don’t see my inside world, what I battle every day, or the stuff I see. You don’t see the tortured mind of an artist, the confusion of a twenty-two year old, the anxiety and worry of someone who’s living far above his years, the broadness of my back as I carry countless bags of baggage and multiple burdens (some self-inflicted and some who are by rights others to carry).

You don’t see the homesickness for someone I haven’t yet met. The tiredness of being called “baby” by people who don’t mean it (Shout out my guy Ed Sheeran). You don’t see how lost I am or how badly I want to be found. You don’t see how “I don't want to kill myself because others will get the job of cleaning up my blood from a gun shot, cutting the rope above my head or telling my parents I'm dead. I just want to disappear.”

How’s that lyric go Mansionz?

“...Nobody knows, nobody knows, no one (no one)

You'll never know, you'll never know me,

I wanna believe in religion

But nobody reminds me of God

I wanna believe in what I hear and what I read

But it mostly reminds me I'm lost

I wanna believe that when I fuck it's romantic

But no lovers remind me of love

And I need to believe in moderation

'Cause believers believe in too much

I learned to lie

I learned to lie when I was younger

Tell me somethin' true...”

Yeah. I feel that on a spiritual level.

But.

To live by feelings is to live falsely. Feelings lie. Feelings change. Feelings come and go. What holds us together?

Faith.

A “ Complete trust or confidence in someone or something.”

or

A “ Belief; the assent of the mind to the truth of what is declared by another, resting on his authority and veracity, without other evidence (Webster).

Faith in there being a greater plan. Faith in a better tomorrow. Resting my life and hopes and dreams, without other evidence, into “The Hands of God.” A higher being. Something larger than myself. without seeing the end result. That’s completely counter intuitive my nature.

Maybe Puddleglum from The Chronicles of Narnia states it best in C.S Lewis’s classic The Silver Chair. Our hero is hard pressed, and a witch is doing all she can to convince him to lose his faith in the great lion Aslan and his memories of life above ground. Just as he is about to give over to her power he states,

“  All you've been saying is quite right, I shouldn't wonder. I'm a chap who always liked to know the worst and then put the best face I can on it. So I won't deny any of what you said. But there's one more thing to be said, even so. Suppose we have only dreamed, or made up, all those things-trees and grass and sun and moon and stars and Aslan himself. Suppose we have. Then all I can say is that, in that case, the made-up things seem a good deal more important than the real ones. Suppose this black pit of a kingdom of yours is the only world. Well, it strikes me as a pretty poor one. And that's a funny thing, when you come to think of it. We're just babies making up a game, if you're right. But four babies playing a game can make a play-world which licks your real world hollow. That's why I'm going to stand by the play world. I'm on Aslan's side even if there isn't any Aslan to lead it. I'm going to live as like a Narnian as I can even if there isn't any Narnia. So, thanking you kindly for our supper, if these two gentlemen and the young lady are ready, we're leaving your court at once and setting out in the dark to spend our lives looking for Overland. Not that our lives will be very long, I should think; but that's a small loss if the world's as dull a place as you say.”

Do I have that faith? Faith to believe no matter what lies I tell myself it’s all for a reason? That there is something out?  That this world I currently see is but a shadow, a vapor, a breath, a blip in an endless line of eternity? That there are no accidents, or meaninglessness?

Can I believe that? 

I want to. I am tired of keeping my hands on the Wheel of this ship. I’m tired of trying to keep my ship afloat. I’m tired of trying to do everything from my own power. I’m tired of failing at attempting to run out this storm, keep my sails aloft, or row my own way.

So this is me.

I’m giving over for I have no one else to turn to.

Friends and family can’t help me. Money won’t save me. Running away is a temporary solution. So here is a public declaration. I surrender. I give up. Take this wheel. Beach this ship if you have to.

Just take my life and place it into your hands.

[prismatic-cannon]

Hello! Do you have any huntershipping headcanons? Whether they're sfw or not.

AAAH I have loads! I’ve been dying to draw them out but most of them are pretty scenery-heavy which take up loads of time and concentration orz. But here’s a few of them! Keep in mind that my headcanon Gold is probably super different from canon gameverse Gold – I thought all of this up before I started seriously getting into Pokemon (SS is my first game lol)

OK I LIED so much of these are headcanons about Gold, orz please bear with it:

Gold pretty much lived in New Bark town his whole life. He has a mum and dad but his dad works as a sailor and is often away, so he’s a lot closer to his mum – in fact he’s a huge momma’s boy lol. Throughout his journey Gold always makes a point of calling back home a few times per week and regularly wires money over to his mum (aww). He’s pretty easygoing and friendly, but he’s so naive and trusting to the point that his grass starter has to step in sometimes (because really now Gold?? don’t tell me you honestly believe this is a souvenir shop there is an antennae sticking out of that tree you don’t need to be a grass pokemon to tell that it’s /plastic/ –)

Speaking of which Gold and his chikorita are real close! (best bean) The first time they meet at the lab Prof Elm warns him that chikorita doesn’t listen to human orders very well since it was caught from the wild instead of lab-raised like the other starters, but Gold’s got his heart set out on grass pokemon ever since he started seriously considering becoming a trainer. They get off to a bumpy start at first but by the time Gold gets his second gym badge they’re pretty much joined at the hip. Oh and it’s named Selene! It’s got a relaxed nature but it’s a little quick tempered lol. (I actually named my starter Selene after another character from a webcomic, so a lot of his salty personality is borrowed from him … It’d feel wrong if I renamed him so I just left it as it is. Plus his nature and characteristic fit him so well anyway haha)

Gold loves his pokemon soooo much. He always treats his team to a huge meal after they successfully get a gym badge, but most of the time Gold stays super thrifty, preferring to save his cash for essentials like full restores and the like. But the one time they lost at the Ecruteak gym Gold treats them to a meal anyway just to boost morale ;w; He also makes a point of watering his berries daily (because who doesn’t like free shit) and Selene helps out too. Gold tries to eat an Oran berry once just to see how it tastes and he ends up having terrible diarrhoea for three days lmao.

Gold’s first time in Goldenrod is pretty memorable … He gets lost while exploring the city and they take the entire night trying to find their way back to the pokecentre lol. Going from small towns to giant cities overwhelmed the shit out of him. It doesn’t help that Gold’s kinda shit with directions, so it’s a good thing Selene’s naturally great at navigating (sf peeps please don’t shame me)

OK ACTUAL HUNTERSHIPPING STARTS HERE:

The first time Gold meets Silver outside Professor Elm’s laboratory he just falls head over heels for this guy. Like instant crush. Even though the guy pushes him off his feet and doesn’t give him a second glance, this boyo gets the dokis real bad lmaooo. At their second encounter (their first battle outside Cherrygrove town) Gold straight up tells him “WOW you’re super pretty” in the middle of Silver’s shit talking. Silver’s kinda taken aback at first (because wow that came out of nowhere, what?) but from that point on he just flirts with Gold like crazy and lords his height difference over him lol. Silver secretly likes that he has the power over Gold to make him super flustered, weirdo probably thinks it makes Gold weak in some convoluted way. Gold always means to ask him for his number but every time they meet the poor guy just clams up instantly. It doesn’t help that Silver always runs off huffily every time he loses. It’s only after their battle at Victory Road that Gold manages to ask him, “W-will I see you in Kanto?” that Silver sighs resignedly and just gives him his number lol. They text from time to time I guess? Right now I’m at the point in the game where Silver doesn’t actually insult you anymore (he just fucked off to Dragon’s Den yesterday after I beat him at Mount Moon) so I don’t have a lot of headcanons after that.

I’ve been meaning to draw post-game adult Gold and Silver where Gold runs a berry farm back in New Bark with ten million chikoritas helping him out lol (this is the scenery-heavy art I was talking about earlier) but I’m still thinking on Silver’s future career. Somehow I’m leaning towards either law enforcement or some form of pokemon therapy?? idk I’ll have to finish the game to see how things go :S