#i would fall asleep with them in and wakeup to me crushing it under my pillow

[this-doesnt-endd]

Okay so I did fix them we love women in stem but the audio was super soft it was like 30% volume instead of 100 and so i took it apart and tried again but the wire was simply too fragile since it had snapped it off when they originally broke BUT i did fix it

[kmpac]

Noona No More

➸ 18+

➸ Summary: You are a stylist for the biggest group in the world, which has some decided advantages, but it also has some definite distractions. The biggest of which being Park Jimin. After a performance goes slightly wrong, you get your chance to tell Jimin exactly what you think of him and turns out he has some things to say about you too.

➸ Word count: 6K

➸ Pairing: Park Jimin x stylist noona

➸ Genre: Slight Angst, Smut, Fluff if you squint

➸ Warnings: Jimin crying (it broke my heart to write it!), some foul language, dry humping, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected sex, praise kink (because, of course!)

➸ A/N: I have been on tumblr for a while, but haven’t ever shared anything I’ve written. Being a mom in my 30s, it has been literally 15 years since I actually wrote anything, but I’ve been inspired by Jimin lately. My sweet ultimate bias. I just adore him. With the encouragement of some ARMY friends, I decided to share this. We will see what happens and if anyone reads this. Lol. I have never written warnings before, as this is my first time writing smut. I’m so sorry if I forget something. If you see anything I should add, please let me know!

Being a stylist for BigHit had some decided advantages; working for a company that cared for its employees and paid well not being the least of which. But BigHit was also full of idols who were not prima donnas, which from your 10+ years in the business had taught you was an incredibly rare feat. The worst thing you had to deal with was boys falling asleep in the styling chair or wanting to play in front of the cameras that followed them everywhere. No, you had it really good, you couldn’t deny.

That did not change the fact that being a stylist for Big Hit, and primarily being assigned to BTS had some decided disadvantages as well. Primary among these disadvantages was one – Park Jimin.

Jimin was the kind of person that would sit quietly making polite conversation with you making you feel seen and important and not like a prop in his everyday life. But he was also the kind of person that would brush just slightly too close to you as he stood from his chair and would cutely say “excuse me” with a knowing smirk as you blushed from ears to toes. In other words, he was dangerous. He was charming, sweet, sexy, funny: all the attributes to make any woman weak at the knees. Unfortunately for you, having a crush on your gorgeous idol subject was not an option if you wanted to keep your job. Not only were you required to be professional in order to carry out your duties, but it was also the road to heartbreak, and you knew it. Idols weren’t allowed to date openly, and for BTS it wasn’t only impossible with their superstar status, but was impossible due to their schedules. You knew well the hours they put into their work and had more than once blow dried and curled their hair as they fell asleep standing. They worked hard, but play was something foreign to them.

So when Jimin would flirt just before a show, you assumed it was only to get into the mindset of his stage persona, not to personally give you a heart attack. It was the only form of comfort and a wakeup call that you could offer yourself.

That was until one particular day when your whole world turned upside down.

You were backstage at an award show, curling Jimin’s hair as his sleepy chin dipped to his chest. His lips were puffy and adorable as usual and his makeup was flawless so you could barely see his cute freckles that you wished the makeup people wouldn’t hide. His complexion, too, was a bit too light, but you always attributed that to a broken sense of the beautiful in this country. Pale did not always equate to beautiful and tan could be gorgeous, like Jimin’s own natural honey skin tone that made him look like candy you could eat. Come to think of it, it was probably safer for your sanity that they did adjust his complexion, if that thought was any indication of your fragile state of mind around this man.

“You will be needing another dye job soon,” you said casually as you assumed his half asleep mind wouldn’t even register it.

Without even opening his eyes, he uttered, “will you do it, Noona?”

“If I’m the stylist on duty, of course.”

“You are the only one who is gentle. I always feel like my scalp is on fire when anyone else does it.”

“You exaggerate. And I don’t do it any different than anyone else.”

He looked up then as you were midway through a curl of the iron and grabbed your wrist, “promise you will be the one who does it, Noona.”

You were distracted by his eyes that were so much more than the colored contacts he wore. Even those couldn’t distract from how jaw dropping and gorgeous his eyes were, especially as he had some of the most honest and forthright eyes you had ever seen. This man didn’t do secrets.

“I will try,” you offered, though you knew you would do nothing of the sort. Dye days were the worst because you spent hours upon hours with one boy exclusively and you couldn’t handle that with Jimin. He was your Achilles’ Heel.

“Thanks, Noona,” he said as he closed his eyes again.

You hated him calling you Noona. It made you feel old. Sure you were both adults, but you had 7 years on him and such matches just didn’t happen in Korea. Not that it mattered, anyway, you reminded yourself as you turned to grab the hairspray, because Park Jimin would never look at you that way even if you were his age.

The boys rushed out of the room in a whirlwind shortly after with last minute checks of wardrobe, makeup and hair as they went to perform. It was always a mad house just before stage, and the boys were jumping around and singing to warm up their voices, and overall getting hyped up so they had the energy they needed to go full out. There were a lot of people there to see them, and they never disappointed.

The moment your life turned upside down though, started just as you were backstage, putting away most of your equipment and cleaning up any mess left backstage as you and your fellow stylists watched the boys performance on the monitors in the dressing room. The boys were performing Dionysus to perfection. Every move was as accurate as in rehearsal, even with the jet lag and exhaustion of the boys. They were used to it, they would say, but you always felt for them. Jimin was front and center doing his incredible solo spotlight as the boys made a V formation behind him to “Where the Party at” when it happened. Jimin’s voice squeaked and it came out rather profoundly on the monitors. The boys rarely made mistakes of any kind, or if they did it was largely overlooked by the audience, but there was no hiding this moment as he was the focal point.

You could tell by his face for that split second that he was shocked by his voice, but then he went right back to being the exceptional performer he was born to be. You forgot about it entirely until the moment the boys finished the performance and came back down the hallway to the dressing room. You were all crowded into one of the bigger rooms at the show, but even still it was hard to shove everyone in who accompanied the boys, but any crowd was quickly forgotten when you saw Jimin’s face.

He was puffy around the eyes and slightly red. His face was contorted with a grimace and there were definite tear tracks on his face. Tae had him under his arm, practically dragging him into the room. When he made it inside, he completely lost it. He started crying in earnest and fell to the floor against a wall as he shucked off his 3 million Won jacket and cast it in his makeup chair.

The makeup artist assigned to Jimin made no show of emotion as she took her kit and went to sit beside him on the floor to clean him up. She turned back toward you, who was still standing shell shocked in the middle of the room, and asked you to grab the dabbing paper from her station. You quickly went to her side and offered her the materials, which she quickly put to work. The boys would no doubt be called to stage at any time to accept one of their millions of awards they would win tonight, and there was no time for tears. You sat beside him as he attempted to get control of his emotions. RM was hovering as his stylists scurried around him and Tae was shouting praises to Jimin to cheer him up, but nothing seemed to help.

“Noona,” he said and your focus went back to his face and you saw he was looking at you as his makeup artist reapplied his eyeliner in a hurried fashion.

“Yes, Jimin?”

“I messed up. Did you see it?”

“See what?”

“Don’t joke,” he said as he adjusted his position and you tried not to make eye contact. You didn’t want him to know that, yes, you saw him, and yes, you noticed the mistake, because admitting it meant everyone saw it, everyone heard it. You wanted to distract from that, but you didn’t know how. You were quickly shuffling through a million statements you could make that would give comfort without making him feel worse, when you felt his hand slip into yours discreetly. You looked down and then straight into his eyes. What you found there had your heart beating wildly out of your chest. Such an open look of desire to be comforted, to be heard and understood, and it conveyed only a desire for honesty, and though you couldn’t ever verbalize how you knew that, you still KNEW.

You took a deep breath and looked around as all the boys and their stylists began to shuffle toward the door. Before long it would only be the three of you in here if you didn’t manage to get him up and out the door on time. His makeup artist was still going about her work with such wicked accuracy and precision that you marveled at her talent.

“You messed up?” you asked as your eyes were still on the makeup artist, “Who cares?”

As soon as the words were out of your mouth, you knew there was no going back. The makeup artist stopped her work and Jimin completely froze staring at you.

“You aren’t perfect, Jimin, and you aren’t made to be. Sometimes you are so insanely talented that I think the whole world forgets that you are just a guy. Just a man. And that’s ok.” At this you made eye contact with him and grabbed his hand more fiercely. Jimin was looking at you with a guarded expression, but his eyes were alight with tears or something else – you couldn’t tell.

“You know that, right? You know that you are perfect in your imperfections, even when you mess up?”

He blinked back at you but didn’t speak. The makeup artist looked at you and stood to leave the room to give you a moment. You couldn’t say why she did that, but some cosmic intervention must have made it happen, because as soon as she left you realized that you and Jimin were the only ones left in this room filled with half full garment racks, makeshift beauty stations and piles in every corner of the room filled with people’s belongings.

“Do you really think so?” He asked, bringing your attention back to his face.

“Think what?”

“That I’m perfect, even when I mess up.”

“Of course, I do! Life is messy, and it never goes according to plan, but that’s what makes it beautiful, people are the same.”

His eyes looked down in disappointment, but he wasn’t crying anymore so that was something, although that look made you confused as you felt like you were getting through to him, if not for that expression.

“You know, I failed my final exam in beauty school the first time.”

“You did?”

“I sure did. And if I hadn’t I wouldn’t be here.”

“What do you mean?”

You laughed at the open look of curiosity on his face, “My dream had always been to work for YG and I probably would have stayed there forever, but because I failed and my spot was taken I bounced around from job to job with company after company until no one would take me on except Bang PDnim. And now, all this time later, I’m stylist to the biggest group in the world. How is that for No More Dream?”

He smiled at you then and even chuckled lightly under his breath, but his eyes never left your face.

You looked into his open honest eyes for only a moment and yet it could have been days for how your heart began to beat out of your chest. It was one of those defining moments in life. As you looked into his perfect eyes, it was as though you were tied together in that moment, where two souls were speaking though your bodies were silent. It was not something you could verbalize and you didn’t want to. Time didn’t exist in that moment.

That is until you heard the bell alerting them of a commercial break, which would allow them the moment to go back to their seats on the stage. It woke you up and reminded you that you were still sitting on the floor with a pop star who needed to get to his seat before the gossip started. After his mistake on the stage, he didn’t need people speculating that he was backstage crying (even though it was true).

“Ok, let’s get you out there,” you said as you went to grab his bicep, which was surprisingly firm and strong for such a skinny man, but you had no time to think on it, as he interrupted you with your name. He never called you by your name.

“Wait,” he looked at you again in earnest and you felt the blush rise on your cheeks as you waited for him to say whatever he would say.

“I know you hate being the center of attention, and getting any kind of praise, but…thank you”

“You’re welcome, Ji-“

“And…I know you probably don’t feel the same way, but…” he looked behind your back at the door that now contained no one, “If this is my only opportunity, then…”

You had no idea what he was talking about and were about to turn around and head toward the door, no matter his requests for you to wait. He had to go.

But before you got fully turned toward the door, he grabbed you by your wrists and spun you to the wall behind the open door so you would be secluded, and then crashed his perfect plush lips on yours. You had often imagined what being kissed by Jimin would feel like. Soft, gentle, like pillows against your mouth, because his lips were so fluffy looking.

This was not that, though. He was rushed for time, so his lips were tight and brutal against your mouth. In a second, when you went to take a breath, his tongue was in your mouth stealing your hastily taken breath with the greed of his. His hands were in your hair, and his solid front was pressed firmly against yours. You were taken so off guard you forgot to respond to his kiss, to take advantage of running your hands through his hair that you had just styled a few hours previously and still looked gorgeously coifed. Instead you were practically paralyzed against the wall with hands at either side of your head, but as the heat of his body seeped into yours and the semi hardness in his pants connected with your softness, you gasped in pleasure suddenly.

The sound shocked him out of his trance and he stepped away apologizing profusely to you. Instead of listening to him wrongfully assume you weren’t into him, you decided to show him just how much he was wrong by grabbing him by his neck and merging your lips back together. Like two people starved of each other you grabbed and pulled and pushed with a fiery passion and one of your legs lifted off the floor to wrap around his waist as you rubbed your center against his front seeking friction from the only man you ever wanted between your legs for as long as you live. He growled and took your leg off his waist and set you back on your feet in a show of great restraint.

His head hit your chest as he tried to catch his breath and gain control back. The bell was ringing again to say the commercial break was over.

“Fuck,” he grunted out toward the floor as his face continued to be hidden from you. “I have to go back out there.”

“I wish you didn’t, but you are right and the others will be back soon,” you said referencing the other staff.

“Please know,” he said as he lifted his head and made eye contact with you, “this isn’t just physical for me.”

You took a shaky breath through your nose to gain control of your beating heart, “Same here.”

He smiled at that, wide and with his gorgeous eyes.

“I thought I was too old for you.”

He chuckled as he wiped his pants off from sitting on the floor, “I thought I was too young for you.”

He turned to leave as you heard familiar voices approaching.

“We aren’t done here,” he said as he pointed at you and then ran out of the room, just as the others returned to the room.

You stood at the door and watched him go. At the last minute, he turned and smiled at you and like the tease you always knew he was, he licked his bottom lip and bit it.

You knew you probably looked like a love sick puppy as you leaned on the doorway watching him go with a light blush on your cheeks, but you couldn’t help it.

Just before he went on stage, though, you ran out to him calling his name. As your cover you fluffed his hair that needed no fluffing, but to him you whispered, “Don’t call me noona anymore.”

He tried to hold in his laugh but leaned down as his eyes scanned the backstage to make sure no one was looking as he whispered back, “you got it baby. I’ll see you after.”

Then he winked and was gone.

_____________________________________________________________

You did your level best to focus on the performances and your cleanup of the back room until the end of the show that night, but you couldn’t help but relive that kiss over and over again in your mind. You had kissed Park Jimin! The most famous idol in Korea. The literal It Boy of the country, probably of all of Asia. He was beyond beautiful, talented, kind, funny, and did you mention gorgeous? You kept stealing views of his perfect flirtatious eyes in the monitors as you packed up your belongings and shuffled to load the Big Hit vehicles for the end of the show. Every time you caught his eye, you felt like he was looking straight back at you (which was silly since you knew he was just looking into the camera to make eyes at the fans).

After the show everyone was exhausted and piled into the black tinted windowed vehicles to lead them back to their hotels. BTS got a private floor of the fancy hotel designed for performers and the famous actors who presented the awards. You on the other hand were staff, and not just staff, but support staff, not managerial staff, like Sejin who stayed in the hotel with the boys so he was on hand in case of emergencies, and not like the body guards and personal assistants to the group. You were just a stylist. Suffice to say, you didn’t expect you would see him again tonight when you went back to your budget hotel down the block from the venue. Jimin had promised he wasn’t done with you (the thought of that statement made something in your lower stomach twist, even as your legs rubbed together), but surely the circumstances being what they were, that would be impossible.

You were winding down for the evening after washing your face and brushing out your hair and were about to put on a sleep mask and turn on some late night TV program to fall asleep to when your door rattled as a heavy hand hit the door. Like any self-respecting Millennial, you were immediately terrified at the prospect of an unexpected visitor, and ironically, your mind was so full of his kiss that you were beyond astonished and taken by surprise, when you opened the door to Park Jimin in the flesh. You would have pinched yourself to wake up from your obviously delusional dream, but then he started walking in through the door without invitation.

You backed into the room surprised as he threw the keys in his hand on the table and started shucking off his boots as he closed the door with his leg.

“You drove here?”

He nodded.

“How did you even find where I was staying?”

“I’m clever, and Sejin isn’t as protective of his planner as he thinks he is.”

In a moment, you were in his arms. If he had given you time to consider the state of the hotel room, with your belongings strung out across the bed, including your bra and underwear you planned to wear the next day, and your cosmetics strewn across the countertops and tables, you might have been embarrassed. Instead, he was like a man possessed as he took advantage of your surprise, like he had done that afternoon at the show, as well. In a rare moment of confidence, you wondered if he had imagined being with you like this as many times as you had imagined being with him.

His mouth encapsulated yours like he was afraid you would run away if he stopped. You were so incredibly consumed, you didn’t have one thought of stopping him. It was like a dream come true. And having him in this intimate environment that smelled like you and was filled with your things after the previous night’s stay, you felt your whole body come alive.

His hands were in your hair, but his arms were so tightly wrapped around you that every inch of your body felt sealed in his arms. As he walked with you in his arms toward the bed, you only had time to think about how good he smelled, like citrus and some kind of flower. In a word, he smelled delicious. And his body was so solid against yours, and hair and skin were so soft, which you knew because you couldn’t stop your hands from devouring him even as your mouth was completely drowned in his lips.

And GOD his lips. Were there two such lips anywhere else in the world that tasted, felt, and looked this beautiful? Not that you could see them right now as your eyes were rolled back in your head in ecstasy, especially as he drove his stiff shaft into your clothed center. You moaned wantonly and he pulled away to stare in your eyes. His face flushed and lips swollen, even more than usual, as he lay you down on the bed and leaned over you.

“Is this ok?” he asked and you sputtered out a yes in reply as his smiling face fell to devour you once again.

His hands began to loosen the ties on your robe and he slowly ground his heavy anatomy into your clit, which only furthered the fire in your belly.

“Please,” you started chanting as he ripped your robe open and quickly took up residence on your unclothed chest like a man starving. You whined wantonly, who could blame you? You had to remind yourself again that Park Jimin was the one currently running his perfectly pointed tongue over your pert nipple. As he did he moaned in a voice so deep you would have believed it was someone else if not for the evidence before you. His hands were soft as they ran across your sides and your ribs and gripped with his ring clad fingers on your waist. You found yourself growing wetter by the second as you imagined him bruising your hips with those ring clad fingers. It was a thought you often had when you watched his fingers wrap around his microphone when he performed.

“I can’t control myself,” he said, bringing you out of your trance. “If you don’t want this, tell me so now.”

“I want this!” you practically screamed as you lifted your hips to grind against his clothed member. He practically growled in response as he pulled away and stared at your unclothed body. He started to slowly remove his jacket and unbutton his white button up shirt. For your part, you lifted onto your elbows to drink him in, as you pulled your robe from underneath of you and threw it across the room. You were still wearing your underwear (thank god they were cute ones) but your upper body was bare and your hair was draped in what you hoped was a seductive way. He was biting his lip, meanwhile and slowly untucking his shirt from his pants as he, one arm at a time, removed his shirt. It was so hot and sultry, you felt another gush of liquid between your legs as you moaned. Jimin, for his part, seemed to grow more bold and flirtation the more you seemed to enjoy yourself. With the grace of a dancer, he stood to his full height as he finished shucking off his shirt and tossing it across the room. Until that moment you had been fully concentrated on his eyes, but you couldn’t deny that his perfectly sculpted stomach and chest were a very welcome distraction. You had never seen anything so perfect before in your life. From his honey skin, soft and smooth and free of blemish, to his dusky nipples that made your mouth water, you were ready to eat him alive right then and there. You lifted to do just that as you took in his muscular stomach and his sexy tattoo. Your hands followed the trail of your eyes and it took no time to dig in to the feast laid before you.

Your tongue was currently swirling around his perfect nipple, when a particularly high keening noise left Jimin’s mouth. His enjoyment encouraged you to be even more bold as your hand found the front of his trousers. He took a big inhale as your hand connected with his member. The softness of his balls as you brushed them made it even more extreme of a contrast as your hand connected with his engorged manhood. It made your mouth water as you imagined taking it into your throat.

With that thought you pulled away to make quick work of his pants. Jimin was vibrating, practically, with anticipation as his hands joined yours in removing his slacks. His belt flew across the room, and his pants and boxer briefs came off in one shot like lightning. Your eyes again devoured the man, and for the rest of forever you knew you would never see anything as beautiful as a naked Jimin. He blushed slightly as you took him in from head to toe. He knew what he looked like, but obviously was not used to being appraised so fully. His blush only increased his sexiness, so you decided to tell him.

“You are literally the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

His smile could have outshined the sun and in that moment you promised yourself that you would make an effort to be vocal with him to keep that smile on his face.

Now, with only your underwear as a barrier, you both finally realized the gravity of the situation as things got more serious. You began to crawl backward on the bed, as he went on hands and knees to chase you up the bed. You bit your lip and whined at the intensity in his eyes, and he growled at your wanton behavior.

In a second he was back on you and now his unclothed dick was the star as he rolled his hips into your center. You were already so close, it was embarrassing, but you didn’t even care. You wanted him: carnally, emotionally, in any way he would give you himself and you would thank him for any shred of it.

“More baby,” you heard yourself beg, “please, more! I want more, Jimin!”

His lips met yours as he gripped onto your lower lip and bit it, causing you to whine again.

“What do you want from me, Jagiya?”

Your eyes shot open at the use of that word, but it only brought a warmth in your heart as you answered his question.

“I want you to make love to me, Jimin. Please…”

He wasted no time as he descended down your body with open mouth kisses. His pillow lips making you so crazy you thought you could probably just come from his kisses, but he went too quickly down your body and before you knew it he was biting into your underwear to pull them down your legs.

You lifted up to watch and what you saw made your heart explode and your lower lips vibrate in anticipation. There before you were the eyes of a man possessed as he stared straight into your soul and his mouth wrapped around the lace of your underwear.

God he was sexy. He always had been, but nothing had prepared you for this. He hadn’t even brought you to orgasm yet and you were already certain that he was a sex God.

As your thoughts swirled with his perfection, his glorious lips took up the position of your underwear as he slowly but surely wrapped his perfect lips around your throbbing nub. Your panting intensified and you found your hands fisting in the sheets as he began to suck. In between sucks, he would moan about how wet you were for him and instead of being embarrassed you felt sexy and powerful. Jimin had the incredible ability to make you forget his status in a moment of passion and only feel how much he worshiped you. Or at least that was what he did to you.

His fingers meanwhile, found your entrance and as your lips quivered he plunged a ringed finger deep into your hole without warning. You whined loudly as you threw your head back in ecstasy against the pillows. You felt him moan into your nub as you did so, which only intensified your internal struggle. You began panting his name as he continued to assault your nub with licks and sucks as his curved tongue would periodically flick out and tease your lower lips, whilst his first finger took a completely different rhythm, driving into you with abandon. The contrast of feelings and intensity brought you to orgasm faster than you thought possible. With a gasp, and a sharp inhale, you felt your silent scream as it racked your body with shivers. As you came down, and the sensations began to settle into over sensitivity, Jimin’s tongue licked up your liquid heat like it was ice cream. He even sucked on his first finger from ring to tip as he sighed into it at the taste of your release.

You think you might be in love.

In no time he was climbing up your body and smiling at your ecstatic face. You were so fucked out, you had no thought to be embarrassed. Instead you hooked your legs on his perfect ass and pulled him into you.

“Put that perfect dick in me this instant,” you told him as you were out of breath.

“As you wish,” he giggled. With no hesitation he drove himself into you harshly, causing both of you to exhale a fluttered breath. His forehead made contact with your own in an intimate gesture as his perfect lips pouted out to connect with your lips in a feather light kiss. You could have cried at the intensity of his gaze as he slowly began to pump in and out of you.

His dick WAS perfect, as you had said. Just the right size, not too big, not too small, and thick to stretch you in all the right places. And more importantly, he knew how to use it. He lifted one of your legs to drape across his shoulder as he ground himself deep inside of you. You had always been completely convinced that the G spot was a mystical imaginary body part, made up by women who couldn’t tell the difference between an internal orgasm and a clit instigated orgasm, but you stood corrected. As his hips rolled in a movement you had often seen when he was on stage (though admittedly, had never seen quite like this!) you felt that foreign fire burning beneath his pressure. You were about to explode again as Jimin’s hips quickened. You watched his stomach muscles clench and pull taught over and over as his wave motions grew quicker by the second and his moans grew in intensity.

“Fuck, I forgot a condom!” He shouted even as his motions grew more rapid.

“I’m on the pill. Shut up and fuck me!” You panted as you met his movements with your hips.

“God, you feel so good, Jimin.” He moaned at your praise, so you continued practically in a whine, “you are so fucking sexy, I want all of you! I’m so close again. Your dick is perfect! You are amazing! Oh my God!”

And just like that you both grew silent as you crashed over the abyss together. Your high pitched squeal came out even as your lips quivered and squeezed him of every last drop. He meanwhile groaned into your neck as his cock spluttered out the last of his cum into your waiting heat.

It took a while before you regained your breath enough to speak and when you did, you instantly felt embarrassed at the openly affectionate look on his face.

“I couldn’t wait to have you. As soon as you said it wasn’t just physical for you either, I’ve thought of nothing else.”

“I guess I should have trusted you when you said you would find me after,” you laughed, as you brushed his hair away from his face as he fell down beside you. His member was slowly decreasing in size, but you made no effort to remove him from inside of you.

“You should always trust me when I make a promise,” he said with intensity in his eyes, but immediately turned shy, like the humble duality king you knew him to be. “I hope it is ok that I came here.”

“Obviously!” you said much too quickly and much too loudly, causing Jimin to giggle and whisper ‘cute’ under his breath.

“I didn’t plan to come here just to attack you, but then I saw you and I couldn’t resist.” His eyes were on fire and completely set on you.

“I’m glad you did,” you said with a blush as you looked at your hands as you covered your face, “I’m afraid I would have been a mess if you hadn’t broke the ice, so to speak.”

“Why?” He asked earnestly and you almost laughed at how clueless he seemed.

“You have to be kidding.” When he didn’t respond, you sat up and looked him straight into his eyes as he lay back against your pillows. “You are Park Jimin, Lead Vocalist and Main Dancer of the Biggest Band in the world. It Boy of Korea, and literally the sexiest man alive.”

He smiled cockily at that last comment and asked you if you really thought so, but when you quieted him, he turned more sober.

“I get it. But all those things mean is I’m completely unavailable. My life is my job. I don’t have a lot I can offer.”

You tried to contradict him, but he stopped you with a hand on your mouth.

“Despite this…I find myself wanting to risk it all to be near you. I’ve been trying to get your attention for months, ever since you took a more primary role on my styling. I won’t lie to you, you are beautiful, gorgeous even, but I try my best not to pay attention to beautiful faces when I know it isn’t a good idea to get involved, but then you say things to me that completely change my outlook on something, or heal me with just a word, and I can’t help it…”

You were frozen in a seated position on that bed. Your cheeks were on fire at hearing this confession, and you opened your mouth to return the praise, but he stopped you with a kiss.

“Will you let me call you Jagiya? Can I be with you despite all the challenges?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but he stopped you again.

“Before you answer, please think about it. We won’t be allowed to have a regular relationship. Not only will we have to be secretive with the outside world, but we will have to be secretive with the company as well. It’s never explicitly said, but I’m not publicly allowed a relationship, and in the eyes of the company this means – they don’t want to know about any exploits we have. As such, even at work, we will have to keep it a secret. Are you ok with that?”

Even with these challenges, you didn’t even hesitate when you accepted him, just as he is and promised to have him in whatever way he was able to give you.

With that he smiled like a man truly content, and his eyes swam with unshed tears, as he fell down beside you in bed. His chin upon your shoulder, as his lips coasted across your neck.

It didn’t take long for things to escalate again.

To say the least, you didn’t sleep much that night. Nor would you again for the foreseeable future.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Caramel Skin Under a Vanilla Sky 41 full draft (I have no life and wrote 5.3k today.

Waking up in the pod, Lance was frozen to the bone. There was something weirdly disorienting about waking from a stint in a pod laying on your back and not falling into the arms of someone waiting. Groggy, he fought lightly against the hands pulling him up, strong arms lifting him off his feet... which felt like they weren't even there. With chattering teeth, his eyes slid shut again, awake but under protest. Being in the pod had been an endless loop of being stuck in the astral plane. Unable to escape the unending blackness, no one was there to comfort him or to tell him he hadn't died. Laid down on a bed, soft blankets were piled upon his shuddering frame, the warm arms turning into a warm body under the covers, holding him close as they rubbed his right arm. The quietness of the space began to fade, a soft hushing and gentle kisses against his hair drawing him away from sleep. Only one person would be this stupidly sweet. A soft kind of purr forming on his lips as he clumsily tried to hold him back. To reassure himself that Keith was really there. That he hadn't passed off to the astral plane and left his boyfriend alone. He hated when Keith cried. Nine times out of ten he was the reason Keith would weep, if not him then it was his boyfriend's nightmares, which usually involved him. Still shivering and shaking like a leaf, Lance slowly fell back to sleep, safe in Keith's arms. It was another few vargas before he woke again. Keith still curled into him, a leg slung over Lance's waist with his warm breath spilling across Lance's neck. Craning slightly, Lance pressed a kiss to the soft black locks that tickled his shoulder and chest "He hasn't left your side" Yawning softly, Lance looked to his mother, eyes still heavy with sleep. Rising from her chair, she tucked his fringe back on the right side "Welcome back, mijo. You gave us all a scare" It was supposed to be a routine procedure. They'd shown him video of it... His tongue felt thick and clumsy, his mouth dry. Unable to find the words, he frowned at his mother. She looked like exhaustion personified "You had a small bleed in the brain... it's all a little complicated, but you're alright. Keith has been worried sick. You were out for two week-movements" Lance's lips formed an "oh", his mother starting to fuss over the blankets covering him. They definitely weren't hospital blankets, they were to thick and fluffy, Keith had probably brought them up from the Telula. He also wasn't in a hospital bed... or a hospital room for that matter... "Water?" Rasping it out, his mother dropped the hem of the blanket immediately, a cold cup with a sharp straw appearing to poke him in the nose, before his mother bent it down so he could actually drink from it. Gulping greedily, it was taken away before he was ready "You'll make yourself sick of you drink too fast" Clearing his throat, Lance nodded, his attention shifting back to Keith. His anxieties had told him that man he loved would abandon him, yet here he was, glued to his side and snoring so perfectly. "How was he?" "Worried for you. Coran had to have him removed from beside your pod so he'd rest..." "And you?" "You gave me a scare, but Coran assured me that you'd be coming out the pod just fine. How do you feel?" "Sleepy... warm. Thanks for looking out for him..." "He's a sweet boy. Refused to come back to Earth with me, but did ask me to pick up a few things for you while I was there" "You went back?" "Coran gave me an estimate on when you'd be out. You know your father, he'd fall apart without someone there to make sure dinner's on the table" Lance gave a snort that turned into a cough, Keith rousing from his sleep. With wide purple eyes, Lance was pulled even tighter against him. Patting his boyfriend's back, he realised that his left hand was still covered up. Something that was both scary and relieving. If something was wrong with it, he didn't want his mother to have to see. Tightening his hold further, Lance squeaked "Hey, hey... your crushing me, Mullet" Loosening his hold minutely, Keith wasn't done "How do you feel? Do you need anything? You scared me, you dick" Patting Keith's back, Lance was ready to fall back to sleep again. He was cold, but where Keith was touching him was so warm he was sweating "'m ok. Sleepy... but ok. I can still feel everything. I know who you and mum are... the important things... how long have I been out?" "Mijo, don't you remember? You just asked" Lance was pretty sure he was entitled to some memory loss when he was still defrosting "Mean out of the pod..." "Oh, a few vargas now. Keith insisted on carrying you from the pod to this private room Coran organised" "It doesn't look like.... a hospital room" Yawning widely in the middle of his sentence, his mother patted his head "That's because it's in the staff quarters. Now you just get some more rest, I'll be right here when you wake up again" "Mmm... I don't think I have much choice in the matter. Keith, you should get some rest too, babe" "I'm alright. I got a few vargas" "Babe..." "Please let me stay... I really need to be with you..." He couldn't deny Keith anything when he was so soft and warm against him "Mmm... but you need to rest properly, and have something to eat..." "I'm fine, babe. Now that you're awake, I'm fine" "Mami, make sure he eats and rests... imma just gonna go back to sleep for a bit" Settling back against him, Keith nuzzled into his neck as he finally loosened his hold. A hand lazily running up from his side to rest on his chest as he pressed a kiss to the curve of Lance's neck "I love you, baby. I don't just love you... I'm in love with you. Thank you for coming back to me" It was a secret whisper meant only for him. It was also the best wakeup he'd ever had when it came to coming out of a pod. Keith was such an adorable bastard. * Spending most of the first quintant out the pod napping off and on, Lance was still sleepy when Coran came to check on them the following morning. His mother was off calling home to let them all know Lance was still doing alright, leaving Keith to snuggle up with his boyfriend as much as he liked. With Lance being tired of being so tired, he was sitting between Keith's legs, back against the half-Galra's hand as he tried not to fall asleep. Sleepy Lance was adorable... but unfortunately being so sleepy had also left Lance on edge. His left hand had become a no go zone, Keith respecting the fact Lance hadn't had a chance to see his hand yet, so hadn't pushed to see the wound left. It wasn't like he wanted to. When a worried Coran turned up in the waiting room, wringing his hands and unable to stand still, Keith had nearly burst into tears before he even knew what had happened. He still didn't know much, only that Lance had some kind of bleed in the brain while in surgery due to something abnormal in his head, and while it'd been treated, brain injuries were never something to take lightly. With his face completely hidden by the mass of flowers in the bouquet he carried, Coran was doing that thing where he was smiling widely while his bottom lip wobbled threatening. Carrying the flowers over, he placed them down into Lance's lap, before finally giving in and launching himself on Lance, crying softly. Patting Coran's back, Lance laughed softly "I've had enough from mami and Keith" "You gave us all quite the scare" Keith didn't need to see Lance's face to know Lance was rolling his eyes. He well and truly got it "I'm ok... I mean, I am ok, aren't I?" "Yes indeed, number three. Fit as... a fiddle!" Coran sounded proud to have got the saying right "See Keith, you can relax now" How was he supposed to relax? He hadn't been able to relax since Lance had wheeled off for surgery. He'd kind of made a nuisance of himself demanding answers anytime anyone checked the pod Lance was in "He was quite lost without you" "He made a pest of himself, didn't he?" Coran hummed, the man had never excelled at lying. Groaning loudly at the noise, Lance wriggled against him to face him "Please tell me you didn't break anything" "I didn't break anything important" He hadn't... broken anything much. Maybe a few coffeecup that came with everyone insisting he drink, eat and rest... Yeah. He was a wreck. A ball of anger that not having Lance by his side brought back to life. He'd even been dobbed into Shiro, and Kosmo had deserted him to trail around after Coran. He came back at night, which was a nice distraction, but the thought of brain damage just wouldn't leave his mind. Narrowing his eyes, Lance huffed before turning back to Coran who had taken a seat in the visitors chair "Sooo. What's this scare all about?" Unable to keep still, Coran took the flowers from Lance's lap, standing up again to find up a vase for them "Coran?" "Hang on my boy" Lance gave a frustrated groan "You can't tell me to hang on. I've been hanging on for the two movements. Mami said I bleed in my brain. Was it to do with the scarring there?" "No, no... I'm so sorry my boy" Lance tensed in his hold, his scent turning feared "Coran, you're freaking him out. The flowers can wait. What happened in there? You said it was an easy surgery. It was supposed to be an easy procedure. You said he'd be perfectly fine. So you need to explain to us what happened properly" "Yes. Yes... I'm sorry, you're right. I failed you. Young Miss Daehra and I both failed you" Daehra. Failed. Lance. Those three words didn't go together. She was almost fanatical about the health of her team, learning absolutely everything she could. "Coran" Keith's tone held a gentle growl "As you say, you did suffer a bleed. A piece of alien technology was found in your brain, where the sample was supposed to have been taken from. Given it was organic, it wasn't picked up on Daehra's scanners. It was so small, it'd give the ice worms of Csadex 9 a run for their money" Lance was still tense, Keith couldn't brain him. The idea of having something in his brain that reminded Coran of worms was kind of revolting "There was what?" "A little tiny tracker. Started transmitting almost as soon as they got started. We got that pesky blighter, but couldn't remove it intact. We theorise that they implanted it while taking their samples" "Coran, not to burst your bubble here, but wouldn't it have started sooner? Like after it was put in? Or when we were on the Atlas?" Pulling forward, Lance drew his knees up as he did when upset "Well, my boy. We've never seen anything like it... We cannot confirm for sure that it was a tracker, but with how desperate they seemed for you, it is our most valid theory" "A theory that doesn't even make sense. I was on the Atlas for movements. I was around Altean tech on the Atlas. Plus, why didn't you guys pick it up with your scanners when we were on the prison ship?" "The Atlas has scramblers in place that prevent outgoing calls on unknown frequencies. You couldn't get a signal on that ship either. Maybe... it was so they could find us if we escaped" By "us", Keith was trying to reassure Lance that wherever he went, he'd be with him. Lance wasn't having "It's fucking wrong, is what it is! Haven't they taken enough from me? Without putting something in my head, like I'm an intergalactic cat!" "Babe, you put a collar on a cat" "Yeah, or a gps! Have you been scanned?" He'd been scanned on the Atlas. Nothing had shown up there... plus, he was more or less along for the ride. It was Lance they'd wanted all along. Clearing his throat, Coran tried to soothe Lance "Keith received medical treatment on the Atlas. No such device was found on or in him" Throwing his hands up, Lance turned to him "See, Keith. Like a freakin' cat. I can't believe they put something into my head. No. I can't believe that I can't believe that they'd do something like that" "It's out now. That's the main thing... Coran, how's his shoulder and... everything else?" The "not related to his head" part went unsaid. Lance was going to be brooding on this and Keith had no idea what to say. Lance was right, they had taken so much from him. It wasn't fair they'd left one more surprise in store "Excellent. It's all excellent. All that's left is to sleep of the pods effects. Your finger has healed, and any of those other lumps and bumps are history" "What about my other problem?" What other problem? There was something else going on? Coran looked as confused as Keith was "You know, the whole Allura changed my body thing. Let me guess, can't fix that in one of your fancy pods?" What was Lance getting angry at Coran for? Coran had worked his hardest at finding answers on the situation. No one but Allura could understand Allura's true intentions "Yes... well, we did some more scans. And watching you two, as well as taking into account your symptoms, I believe I have a clear idea of what she was hoping to accomplish" "Which was what? Turn me into fucking cat nip for Galra?" "Not Galra, but one particular Galra. I believe she didn't want you to be alone after she passed. She knew you cared deeply for Keith, and Keith for you. I think she changed part of your quintessence so that you and Keith would be able to better understand each other. Things like your scent, you can read each other through it. And we all know how much family means to you" "So she fucked with my body, made me something less that I was, so that Keith would want me?! Are you fucking kidding me? I told you those things in private. I let you in and told you what it's been like... and you can't do anything about it at all? Because of her... because of her, I..." "I believe..." "You "believe", you don't "know". Admit it. You have no idea why she turned me into freak. You have no idea why I keep hallucinating her. You have no idea why I can fall pregnant now, do you? You don't. You don't know what it's been like... neither of you understand!" Yelling, Lance shimmied forward, climbing off the bed clumsily before "striding" over to the door "I want you both out" Hang on. What had he done? Why was he getting kicked out? Neither what Coran had said, or what he had said should warrant such an action. Climbing out of bed, Keith moved to Lance's side "Babe..." "Don't "babe" me! Don't you get it, she changed me so that you would love me! She thought me so unlovable that she had to "fix" me. Can you say you loved me, before? Honestly loved me? Or is this fucked up body making you feel things because she changed it?!" "I told you I love you, even before I left to be with the Blades, I was falling in love with you! I don't get why you're yelling at both of us. Coran did the research. There were male Altean's who gave birth... Coran, tell him. He spent vargas researching ways to help you" Lance was shaking, Keith wanted to comfort him, but the look in his eyes said he might just lose it if someone was to touch him "I'm not Altean! I'm me. Just a nobody from Cuba! I want you to both leave" "Lance..." "I want to be alone" "Number three. I do have some..." "Please! Both of you, you don't get it! I want to be alone!... please" Dropping from a yell, Lance hit the door sensor pad "Babe..." "Keith, I don't want to yell at you, but I need space right now. Or I'm going to end up doing something very stupid-er. Ok. Take Kosmo for a walk... I need to think" "I don't think you should be alone right now" "Just get out!" "Babe..." "Please, please just go..." Coran and Keith both sighed heavily to themselves as they left. The door sliding shut seemed to sound louder than normal. Placing his hand on Keith's shoulder, Coran let out another heavy sigh "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset him" "You're not the one who upset him... Neither of us were. He's right... we don't understand everything he went through" "That doesn't mean we stop trying. I fear I put too much on his shoulders too soon" "I'm sorry he yelled at you" "It's ok, my boy. Why don't you go freshen up, take a walk like he suggested. I'm sure he'll no doubt be ready to apologise by the time you get back" Keith held a healthy level of respect for Coran, but couldn't say he wasn't furious at Lance. While he didn't want Coran angry with Lance, he didn't know how he could keep so cool and calm when being yelled at by someone he cared about so deeply "Thank you... those flowers were nice" "Picked them myself. Pop-pop made sure I knew all the "ins and outs" of design. Allura quite liked picking flowers near the castle..." Keith's heart gave an uncomfortable thump. It was hard knowing there was a massive statue of Allura right outside the hospital. Well, not right outside, but visible nonetheless. He didn't feel like Altea was really the right place for Lance to be recovering, so he'd brought all their blankets up to make Lance's room less Alteany. He wanted Lance to sleep off his discomfort in somewhere that wasn't sterile white walls... and somewhere they'd have space to talk privately... not that they'd really talked. Lance was too sleepy, and had grown tired of him repeatedly asking if he was alright "I'm sorry he snapped over Allura..." "No. He's confused. People he thought were friends did this to him. He has a right to his anger" "He doesn't have a right to snap at you. Even if he's hurting" "Thank you, Keith. I wish I knew how to help him more" "There are some things he needs to work out for himself, and he's willing to see a therapist. So that's a big step... waking up and finding everything out, I should have seen this coming" "No. You don't blame yourself either, young man. You've been wonderful with him... He's opened his heart to you. You've grown into a wonderful young man. Allura would be so happy to see the happiness between you" "It's not always happy" "No relationship ever is. All you can have is love and patience" "I'm not that great with the patience thing" "Nonsense. Now you go find that wolf of yours and get some air" "Yeah. I might go check on the Telula. Make sure everything is alright there. He'd kill me if I let something happen to his ship" Coran let him take the out, the man giving a firm squeeze before parting. Lance needed time and he needed to respect that... even if it felt like his heart was breaking. He'd loved him for so long, where as Lance had only admitted he cared for him just a handful of phoebs ago. He was getting impatient again. He was forgetting that Lance also had to suffer waiting without news while Keith had been in the pod. Emotions were running high, and the best thing they could do was sit down and take a deep breath, before something else came their way. * Locking himself away in the bathroom closest to his room, Lance stripped off the hospital gown they'd stuck him, and the pants he'd had to beg to keep. He'd told his mother he wanted to nap, wanting to be alone which she ignored as she fussed over Coran's flowers. Not granting him a moment's peace before finally deciding he looked tired enough to sleep after not letting him get a word in all morning... Standing before the mirror in the room, his eyes roamed over his naked body. This was his body. Supposed to be his body... His body with all these new scars across it. Raising his left hand to reach for the scar on his right shoulder, he paused as he caught sight of it. Instead of red, or pink, scar tissue covering the back of it, it looked like an intricate series of cobweb strands. The skin between a few shades lighter than the caramel skin that covered the rest of him. It disgusted him. The memories of having his hand ground beneath the officers boot, like he was nothing. Was he really that bad? Throwing himself forward with fake bravado had been the only way he knew to survive... and this was surely karma at its finest. Letting out a shaky breath, he turned his hand slowly to stare at the remains of his little finger. The skin having pulled together like it was natural not to have a little finger. The only proof that there was ever anything more there was the smallest of pink scars on the tip of it. He'd lost his finger... but he could have lost so much more. He could have lost Keith. He could have cost everyone everything with this... that stupid thing in his head. Why weren't they mad at him? Tearing eyes turned to soft sobs, his hand shaking as he leaned towards the mirror to brush his fingers over the shaven area. It'd grown back a little while he'd been on bedrest, but they'd shaved it again. A small thin scar about a centimetre above his ear, and curving back slightly. They'd been in his brain. They'd been in his brain because Kre'el had put a damn tracker in his head... Trailing his shaking fingers down his naked chest, he turned to look at the scars across his body. Scars he couldn't even name. Scars because he'd been trying so desperately to keep his head above water. Why had it been him? The Red Lion was all a farce. Why couldn't they have asked him for help? He would have helped... he would have done anything to take away the pain of being home and losing Allura. They didn't need to go this far. They didn't need to torture him. They didn't need to rip away that stupid romantic piece of himself over giving his virginity to someone who loved him as much as he loved them. Twisting sideways, he stared at his back. The risen scars from poorly healed wounds. The beatings they'd give him for screaming. For fighting. For not behaving himself. Hell. Sometimes they'd done it just for fun... Why him? He tried to be a good person. He tried to help. He tried his hardest not to be a burden. Not to weigh everyone down. He was a people person... or he had been. God. He'd been so rude to Keith. He'd been so rude to Coran. They wanted to help him. They wanted the best for him. Keith was hurting badly enough as it was. Keith who'd loved him for years before he'd realised. Keith who worried himself to the point of self implosion... Keith who was just as scared as he was of being left behind by those who loved him. He'd nearly died. He'd nearly died and left him behind. He didn't want to leave Keith behind... he didn't want to be this person, lashing out to hurt others. It never made him feel better... and it was never alright. But how could Keith love him? He was... he was all of this... This body. These scars... The man staring back at him... He'd been doing better. He'd been sure he was doing better... But was he? When was the last time he spent time with his team? The last time they had any real work? Or did anything they wanted to do? He'd been lost in Keith. In Keith ripping his emotions out and rebuilding him. His soft hands and gentle words... He didn't want to be this person. He wanted to be good for Keith. Keith who'd, for the lack of better term, had love to this body. Who wasn't disgusted that he got "periods" or got "wet"... Keith who accepted all of this better than he did. Turning back, he lifted both hands to the bathroom sink. Small scars remained from the cuffs they'd forced on him. Were Keith's wrists scarred? Had he asked? He'd seen the small scar that remained from accidentally been stabbed by the handle of his own blade... Why had Keith scarred, while his broken skin had grown back lighter? His hands didn't even feel like his anymore. He felt as if he still belonged to "them"... He didn't want... He wanted Coran to have a magical cure. He knew how shameful his heat was. The need to be fucked senseless. To be filled and brought to completion until he whited out with pleasure... Keith had never seen him like that. What if it disgusted him? What if that was what drove him away? Keith was his stability. He loved him. He loved him... but some part of him scared of him. Scared of losing control again to drunk courage... to going too far in the moment and hurting himself. It'd felt good. So good to know what it was like to sleep with someone who cherished him... but he wasn't ready for it again. Learning Kre'el's truth brought it all crashing back, and he didn't have a strategy to deal with it all. He couldn't drink away his pain. He couldn't get so high that he felt like he was invincible. They were the wrong methods... but what were the right ones? Could they even fix him? Placing his hands on his hips, he slid them down, shuddering at the touch so close to his groin where his dick laid limp, tucked up in his thin pubes as if trying to hide. Was this body really alright? Was it ok to touch himself? To give in to the soft caresses? He didn't like touching himself, even to shower. He wasn't sure if he'd been ok with Keith helping him shower, yet didn't know how to voice that when his boyfriend was bending over backwards to help him. He didn't know his boundaries anymore. He didn't know how to find them again. He needed help... He wanted to go back to Leandro. When Leandro was easy. When Leandro was all he had to be. All people expected him to be... Lance was so hard. Lance was exhausting. Lance was so many things to too many people. He just wanted to world to stand still. He wanted to feel like he could breathe. He wanted to scream it all out, but wherever he turned, someone was there. Someone to suffocate him with their love when he wanted to work things out in his head first. That's why he'd snapped at Coran and Keith. Their words grating as his sleep drugged mind tried to work out the meaning of their words. He was half a dobosh behind the conversation, and angry with himself for not being able to keep up. He'd been so horrible to both of them. But... they didn't get it. He'd been pregnant. A piece of them had been inside of him and he hadn't known it until it was... gone. Like this thing in his head... Coran didn't know... but Keith did... Keith knew what they did... Sliding his hands up to his stomach, he rubbed at the taunt skin. He'd been born male, and now he was... this. Was this ok? Wasn't he supposed to be somehow manipulating his quintessence without knowing it? Wasn't Coran supposed to be able to tell him how to control it? How to turn back to normal? A scream coming him before he could stop himself, fingertips digging into the sensitive flesh, his sobs turning hysterical as he sunk to kneel. He didn't want to be like this. Why couldn't he ever do anything right? The door to the bathroom slip open, Lance still balling as Keith rushed to gather him up into his hold. Lance hiccuping in surprise as Keith held his face to his neck "They raped me! The raped me and left me like this!" "Shhh. I know baby, I know..." "They didn't listen... it hurt. It hurt and I couldn't... ugh... ugh..." "Shhh, I've got you sweet heart Shaking his head, Keith didn't get it "They put it inside of me! They put it inside of me and I lost it... they didn't ask... they just did what they wanted... then they put... they put... they put that thing in my head... I can't do this... I'm... I don't know who I am anymore... not Lance... don't want to be Lance..." Tilting Lance's face back, Keith moved to cup his cheeks. Sad eyes met his tear filled vision, all blotchy and out of focus but undeniably Keith's. He didn't want Keith to see him like this. Not when he was a ball of conflicting feelings, and not when sometimes you just needed to cry it out in peace "Fuck... oh, babe. I didn't think. I love you. I'm here for you. I'm here for you and I love you..." "I don't want to lose you, but I'm so scared they're coming! They're dead but... did I kill them all? Did... did they track me here? Are we going to see Altea fall again?!" "You're safe here. You're safe with me. You're safe" "I don't feel safe! They were in my head! They put something in me again, Keith! Something I didn't want!" "I know... I don't know what to say... but I'm listening. I'm listening to you" "I can't do this... I can't fix myself... I don't know how to... I'm so tired of them taking things from me" "I'm sorry, babe. I'm sorry. What do you need?" Lance sniffled loudly, trying to calm himself down "Sh-shower" "You want to take a shower?" "Y-yes..." "Ok, I'll help you" Shaking his head, he didn't really want to be touched "Alone... shower alone..." "Are you sure?" "Need to... feel clean..." "You're exhausted, babe" "I want to shower alone... please. Please let me shower... please..." "Ok. Ok, shhhh. Do you want me to do anything?" He wasn't getting rid of Keith. Keith would hover no matter what he did "W-wait outside?" "Sure. Sure thing. I've got Kosmo with me, so you can cuddle with him if you want? He's missed you. He kept teleporting me back to the front of the hospital..." Nodding, Keith couldn't resist as he pulled him to stand as the half-Galra rose "I'll be right outside waiting" Lance blinked his vision mostly clear, the fuzzy bathroom sink was where his gaze fell "Ok..." "And don't worry about how long you take. Take as long as you need"

[modronlotus]

I need to get something off my chest.

I've been thinking about how my family officially found out (well, somewhat) about my practice and it's clinging to me. All of the emotions are latched on to me.

I've been wanting to tell you guys about what happened. That way you can learn from my experience. Because I'm honestly no different than any of you who haven't officially said your spirituality out loud. 

So let's get this going:

--

First I want to say I don't officially know what I am. 

I know my beliefs; I love the idea as everything is energy and manipulating it creates magic. That belief is reinforced every time I do a tarot reading or practice with my pendulum. I believe in the power of chakras, meditation, and balancing your body. I believe in your right to choose what you want out of your practice and not dictate what others should and shouldn't do. I like the ideas of Buddhism and reaching a state of enlightenment. I'm an eceltic cottage witch who likes tarot, green tarot, everything that has to do with Taurus, and five-hour baths.

But I don't know what I am religiously.

I don't dabble with deities, although I have thought of working with Hecate, Chang-E, or Nox.

But I don't know what I am religiously.

This is completely the opposite of how I grew up. I was raised as a Jehovah's Witness, I was even an Unbaptized Publisher (which is pretty much a fancy title for nothing) when I was nine. 

But I remember a few things being wrong with that belief system. And I remember having a hard time with the smallest things growing up this way:

I wasn't allowed to say the Pledge of Allegiance in school. It was considered worshiping an idol. I had a teacher who refused to believe this and gave me the hardest time about it.

I remember sitting in class reading a "Young People Ask" book. Its a publication that's supposed to help explain puberty and going to school among those who aren't Witnesses to teens. There was a picture of a girl and boy kissing in a car. My grandmother came to school and whooped me because the teacher (same one as I previously mentioned) told her I was sneak reading it and being disgusting with the pictures.

I wasn't allowed to watch Scooby Doo, Harry Potter, or anything to do with ghosts, witches, demons, or anything magic. That's So Raven was off limits, especially.

I remember having a hard time explaining after Christmas break that I didn't have a Christmas. My grandparents did celebrate their wedding anniversary around that time and everyone received gifts from that, but no Christmas.

I wasn't allowed to go to Halloween parties or participate in them in school. I went trick or treating once when I was four or five; I was Blossom from PowerPuff Girls.

Birthdays aren't celebrated at all, as the two birthdays mentioned in the New Testament of Jehovah's Witnesses had someone killed. I kind of know how old my mother is and I definitely don't know how old my grandmother is because of this. It's awkward telling that to people.

I remember hearing a talk at a convention once when I had a crush on a boy who wasn't in "The Truth". We were in fourth grade, he was the son of the Vice-Principal, and was incredibly smart and sweet. A good kid. But that doesn't matter to Witnesses; you're not allowed to marry or date anyone outside of "The Truth". I remember crying my heart out during the meeting, my grandmother holding my head to her side to keep me quiet. I never told her why I was upset.

You see, growing up a Witness wasn't that bad. I didn't go anywhere really and stayed home, but I just was used to it. We weren't supposed to have friends outside the Kingdom Hall anyway.

But the problem was I felt dirty being there. I felt like an outsider. I remember looking at the two other people there that were my age and thinking about how different we were. I didn't want to be a missionary. I didn't want to give talks. I didn't want to go out in Field Service and go door-to-door. I didn't want to sit in that meeting three times a week; I constantly got in trouble for falling asleep. 

The biggest wakeup call I had was when my mother tried to kill herself. I was nine, my sister was a few months old, and my mother had just gotten back into the congregation. 

I still went to meetings with my grandmother, did everything the same, but didn't say anything about my mother. You see, my family doesn't like to talk about anything negative. Depression is a bad topic. Leaving the Kingdom Hall was worse.

My mother wasn't ever the same after that, but that's an entirely different discussion. But she plays apart in this story:

My mother has always prided herself on being "a friend to the friendless". She wears everything she does with a badge, even if it's not good. Like going to jail, being in a mental institution, or leaving her kids. She tries to make it sound like an amazing experience for her to have. 

She has friends upon friends who are some of the lowest individuals you can think of. Thieves, drunks, druggies, etc. She helps them anyway. She considers herself their friend.

I never saw it that way. I just laid in my room, quietly cried and blasted music with a million candles lit. I read books I personally bought, like Vampire Diaries or Wolf at the Door. I loved Twilight, I'm not ashamed of it. It was an escape, especially with vampires.

One day, I received a gift from an ex-boyfriend: a pentacle necklace. I thought it was beautiful. I didn't have an association with the symbol, I just thought it was gorgeous.

I wore it everyday. My grandmother saw it, called me a demon lover and possessed, and my mother had me throw away all the books I bought. Over sixty. Twilight was spared because I was letting someone borrow them at the time and I told my mother I'd give them to him. His dog tore them to pieces. 

Now, even though my family doesn't talk about and tends to forget negative things, if it's something bad that they don't like they'll never forget. Like me getting that necklace.

In December of 2015 I got married. We didn't have the money for a big ceremony, but we did our best. Bought a cake, made reservations for 15 people at a local Chinese place, and had a handfastening ceremony in the park. I made my dress from red velvet and leftover white fur from a Christmas show I was working on in college. My husband wore his interview clothes and a new cardigan. It was perfect for us.

Now, my husband wanted us to get married in winter. He hates the heat and I love the cooler time of year anyway. He chose December 21st for the first day of winter. Coincidentally that's also the winter solstice.

I got call after call, even the morning of the wedding, from my grandmother and mother about how I was being sneakily Pagan behind their back. They tried to back out of coming a good dozen times, but showed up anyway. They were the only ones from my side that did, along with my sister and my cousins under the age of seven.

I won't go into details, but my mother pretty much ruined my wedding day for my husband. I knew something bad was going to happen; I even asked my tarot cards the night before how it would go. It didn't end well.

They didnt know it, but the week before my husband and I found out we were pregnant with our daughter. I sent a letter to my mom, tried clearing the air, but before the baby was even mentioned I was pretty much disowned.

However, now that my daughter's here, my family felt a sense of entitlement. They wanted to see her. Everyone does when there's a baby. But dealing with birth and postpartum issues, I didn't want that.

So I decided a few weeks ago to call my mother and explain that I wasn't comfortable with the demanding nature of everything around my daughter. I'm still not. But she's my daughter, my decision.

She understood that, in her talking-over-me way.

Then I decided now was the time to tell her about my tarot business.

This is why: we're moving back up to where she lives soon. With how nosy everyone is, they were going to find out anyway. It's better to give a warning to avoid bigger issues down the line.

Plus my mother has a track record with hiding things like this from my grandmother. You know, to help me out and cause less drama. She'd do the same thing here, right?

Wrong.

She called me a demon, again. Didn't understand why I wanted to tell her about my business, about my spirituality. The same woman who says she'll always be there for my daughter in one sentence and then demonizes me, literally, in the next. And then she brought up my wedding day, saying I lied about getting married on the first day of winter. 

How am I supposed to take that? I'm expected to lay down, agree, say I'm sorry, and forget about it. I'm expected to let her berate me and then demand to be near my child. I'm expected to agree to being a liar when I'm not.

So I cut her off. Her and everyone else.

I've dealt with the abuse my entire life. I've dealt with the toxicity my entire life. But this conversation, this hypocrisy, is not happening to my child. I don't want her to feel support and love and then complete dismissal from a family that's been there her whole life. 

Not ever.

I wanted to share this because it's a constant conversation in the magical community about whether to stay quiet about your practice or expose it. 

I do agree with some teachings; that you need to be like the Earth; silent and speaking when it's necessary.

I agree with keeping your craft from those who would cause harm or problems.

But I also believe in putting your foot down and nipping problems in the bud.

Should I have said anything? I think so. It was going to happen sooner or later.

I was tired of the constant battle over child care and if my business really matters and when I was going to make something of myself.

I was tired of not feeling any support.

I was tired of being told I was loved by the people who said they only cared about my baby.

I was tired of my husband being excluded from everything, and in turn me.

I was tired of being seen as less than a person by the people who raised me.

And I was tired of constantly being told, "You can always go to the Kingdom Hall".

No. I can't. And I won't.

I took some to sit down and talk with Karyn from The Lost Lemurian about my experience with coming out of the broom closet.

We also talked about how difficult it is to have an ongoing practice while living at home with religious restriction.

Take a look at our conversation here; lots of tips and tricks are given for practicing in everyday subtle ways.

--

Bit of a personal post today, but I hope I was able to help you in some way. Talking about your spirituality is such a sensitive topic. I just wanted to be open and honest with you guys about my own.

I also want to say if you guys ever need someone to rant to about things like this, feel free to email me. I'll listen. I'll help in any way I can. No matter what you believe, I promise that.

[justatiredghost]

Wakeup Call Chapter 4

Perhaps it was the sleep deprivation. How long had they been working? It had to have been close to 30 hours. Or maybe it was the adrenaline and stress that came with the job when lives were at stake. Whatever it was, all Rich knew was that he was having difficulty looking away from Carlyle’s lips. Carlyle was speaking to him, but he couldn’t hear, the entire world felt fuzzy and distant. But then suddenly he moved even closer, a hand coming up to brush the hair out of Rich’s eyes in a gesture that was all too intimate, and Rich was thrown back into reality.

“You feeling okay?” Carlyle asked. “What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?”

That brought up thoughts Rich certainly shouldn’t be entertaining right now, especially about a colleague while standing in Carlyle’s quarters, but he was so close and all Rich could think about was kissing him. He knew he should leave, he wasn’t even sure why he’d accepted Carlyle’s offer to come in for a drink when he wasn’t positive he’d be able to make it back to his own room before he fell asleep, but he didn’t want to pull away and lose that contact.

“Something certainly has,” Rich said, trying not to think about the terrible joke, and then he was kissing Carlyle, pulling him close by the front of his shirt.

It was perfect, everything he had imagined it would be; warm and soft and Rich’s eyes fell closed at the feeling of Carlyle’s breath across his skin. It was also painfully brief. Rich forced himself to step back, berating himself for his forwardness. He’d told himself countless times that he would not do this. Carlyle looked startled and Rich desperately tried to think of a way of apologizing that might save their friendship from this stupid mistake. As much as he wanted this as well, more than anything he didn’t want to lose what they already had.

But then suddenly Carlyle’s hand was in his hair and he was pulling him close, kissing him. This time the passion in it was nearly overwhelming as they tried to pull each other ever closer, deepening the kiss as they felt the other’s heartbeat from where they were pressed together. Rich wrapped his own arms securely around Carlyle’s back, fingers digging into the fabric of his coat, unable to truly believe that this was happening.

Carlyle was leading them back to the couch, Rich realized, and thank goodness for that, really. He’d forgotten how tired his legs were. With the soft cushions under them, he straddling Carlyle’s lap, their movements becoming more lazy and slow, and Carlyle chuckling into the kiss.

“You good?” Rich asked, brushing his fingers across his cheek as Carlyle leaned back into a more comfortable position, Rich lying against his chest.

“Very,” he said, running his hand through Rich’s hair again and pulling him back into the kiss.

-

Rich couldn’t exactly remember how it happened, but he woke up lying half on top of Carlyle on the couch. Well, that was awkward. Apparently they had been more tired than they thought. Rich just hoped they’d fallen asleep around the same time and that he hadn’t passed out on Carlyle while they were in the middle of making out. He didn’t want to move, feeling Carlyle’s arms wrapped loosely around his waist, but his back was already starting to ache in protest. He groaned as he sat up and Carlyle echoed him.

“I swear I wasn’t trying to crush you to death,” Rich said, chuckling.

“You sure about that?” Carlyle asked, stretching. “Because a few more minutes and the job would have been done.

“Come on, old man,” Rich said, patting his thigh before standing. “If we hurry we might actually have time for breakfast before our next shift.”

He didn’t want to move, he already missed the contact, the warmth of Carlyle so close, but he couldn’t help but suddenly feel apprehensive. They had sort of fallen together last night, but they’d never talked about anything like this. What if he’d read the the signs wrong and Carlyle wasn’t actually interested in any sort of relationship? Rich cared about him greatly and didn’t want to risk the friendship they’d already built. Carlyle sat up as Rich headed for the kitchen to make them some coffee, but he didn’t follow.

“This was a mistake, wasn’t it?” Carlyle asked and Rich felt his heart sink.

“What, falling asleep on the couch?” Rich knew that wasn’t what he meant but he couldn’t help but deflect. With the coffeemaker doing it’s thing, he turned to the fridge and pulled out some eggs. “I’d say yes, my back is gonna be in agony for days.”

“You know what I mean, Galen,” Carlyle said with a sigh, uncharacteristically serious. “I’m too old for this. I’m too old for you.”

“Are you kidding me?” Rich said irritably, glancing over his shoulder as he started frying up the eggs. “I’m, what, five years younger than you? Besides, all we did was make out. If you don’t want to do it again--”

“No, that’s not--” Carlyle said quickly before sighing. “I came here because I there was nothing left for me, no real future. You could still have one and I don’t want to take that away from you.”

“Harry,” Rich said, taking the pan off the stove and running his fingers through his hair as he turned to face him. “You think I was any better off? Why do you think I came here? Seems to me we can either sulk and wither away or actually try for a life. This is supposed to be our second chance, remember?”

“And what exactly is it that you want?” Carlyle asked.

“I’m too old to play around,” Rich said, leaning back against the counter. “I just want this. I just want to be with you.”

“And you’re okay with me falling asleep on you all the time like last night?” Carlyle asked as he stood and approached. There was a hint of a smile there and that eased Rich’s anxiety somewhat at least.

“Oh thank god, I thought I’d been the one to fall asleep first,” Rich said, chuckling as Carlyle stood in front of him, taking his hands. He wanted to wrap his arms around him, but he held back. Rich didn’t want to rush, worried Carlyle might not want this after all.

“I can’t actually remember either, but I’m happy to blame it on you,” Carlyle said with a genuine smile now as he moved in close.

“So, you good to give this a shot or what?” Rich felt much too apprehensive, like he was young again and new to all this. It was an odd feeling. He was too old to be this nervous.

Carlyle chuckled a little, resting his forehead against Rich’s. “What can I say? I’ve been wanting to do this since the first day we met.”

His voice was so soft, so affectionate that it actually threw Rich. And then Carlyle was kissing him again. There was a hand on his cheek and his chest felt tight with emotion but also so warm. When they finally drew apart, it took Rich a moment to regain his senses and when he did he found Carlyle watching him smugly.

“Since we first met, eh?” Rich said, grinning back. He still felt a little light headed and much too happy. He hadn’t thought he was capable of feeling this way for a long time. “That’s a first. Normally people want to punch me.”

“I wonder why,” Carlyle said sarcastically, still smirking.

Sadly, their next shift was fast approaching, but they did cook the rest of their breakfast together which Rich enjoyed more than he should have. It’d been a long time since he shared a morning routine with someone. Hopefully the next time they had a moment alone they wouldn’t be so exhausted that they fell asleep immediately. Although Rich wouldn’t exactly complain even if they did. As much as his back ached, he’d still do last night over again in a heartbeat. He just enjoyed Carlyle’s company. That was all he needed.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Caramel Skin Under A Vanilla Sky prt 41 update

Waking up in the pod, Lance was frozen to the bone. There was something weirdly disorienting about waking from a stint in a pod laying on your back and not falling into the arms of someone waiting. Groggy, he fought lightly against the hands pulling him up, strong arms lifting him off his feet... which felt like they weren't even there. With chattering teeth, his eyes slid shut again, awake but under protest. Being in the pod had been an endless loop of being stuck in the astral plane. Unable to escape the unending blackness, no one was there to comfort him or to tell him he hadn't died. Laid down on a bed, soft blankets were piled upon his shuddering frame, the warm arms turning into a warm body under the covers, holding him close as they rubbed his right arm. The quietness of the space began to fade, a soft hushing and gentle kisses against his hair drawing him away from sleep. Only one person would be this stupidly sweet. A soft kind of purr forming on his lips as he clumsily tried to hold him back. To reassure himself that Keith was really there. That he hadn't passed off to the astral plane and left his boyfriend alone. He hated when Keith cried. Nine times out of ten he was the reason Keith would weep, if not him then it was his boyfriend's nightmares, which usually involved him. Still shivering and shaking like a leaf, Lance slowly fell back to sleep, safe in Keith's arms. It was another few vargas before he woke again. Keith still curled into him, a leg slung over Lance's waist with his warm breath spilling across Lance's neck. Craning slightly, Lance pressed a kiss to the soft black locks that tickled his shoulder and chest "He hasn't left your side" Yawning softly, Lance looked to his mother, eyes still heavy with sleep. Rising from her chair, she tucked his fringe back on the right side "Welcome back, mijo. You gave us all a scare" It was supposed to be a routine procedure. They'd shown him video of it... His tongue felt thick and clumsy, his mouth dry. Unable to find the words, he frowned at his mother. She looked like exhaustion personified "You had a small bleed in the brain... it's all a little complicated, but you're alright. Keith has been worried sick. You were out for two week-movements" Lance's lips formed an "oh", his mother starting to fuss over the blankets covering him. They definitely weren't hospital blankets, they were to thick and fluffy, Keith had probably brought them up from the Telula. He also wasn't in a hospital bed... or a hospital room for that matter... "Water?" Rasping it out, his mother dropped the hem of the blanket immediately, a cold cup with a sharp straw appearing to poke him in the nose, before his mother bent it down so he could actually drink from it. Gulping greedily, it was taken away before he was ready "You'll make yourself sick of you drink too fast" Clearing his throat, Lance nodded, his attention shifting back to Keith. His anxieties had told him that man he loved would abandon him, yet here he was, glued to his side and snoring so perfectly. "How was he?" "Worried for you. Coran had to have him removed from beside your pod so he'd rest..." "And you?" "You gave me a scare, but Coran assured me that you'd be coming out the pod just fine. How do you feel?" "Sleepy... warm. Thanks for looking out for him..." "He's a sweet boy. Refused to come back to Earth with me, but did ask me to pick up a few things for you while I was there" "You went back?" "Coran gave me an estimate on when you'd be out. You know your father, he'd fall apart without someone there to make sure dinner's on the table" Lance gave a snort that turned into a cough, Keith rousing from his sleep. With wide purple eyes, Lance was pulled even tighter against him. Patting his boyfriend's back, he realised that his left hand was still covered up. Something that was both scary and relieving. If something was wrong with it, he didn't want his mother to have to see. Tightening his hold further, Lance squeaked "Hey, hey... your crushing me, Mullet" Loosening his hold minutely, Keith wasn't done "How do you feel? Do you need anything? You scared me, you dick" Patting Keith's back, Lance was ready to fall back to sleep again. He was cold, but where Keith was touching him was so warm he was sweating "'m ok. Sleepy... but ok. I can still feel everything. I know who you and mum are... the important things... how long have I been out?" "Mijo, don't you remember? You just asked" Lance was pretty sure he was entitled to some memory loss when he was still defrosting "Mean out of the pod..." "Oh, a few vargas now. Keith insisted on carrying you from the pod to this private room Coran organised" "It doesn't look like.... a hospital room" Yawning widely in the middle of his sentence, his mother patted his head "That's because it's in the staff quarters. Now you just get some more rest, I'll be right here when you wake up again" "Mmm... I don't think I have much choice in the matter. Keith, you should get some rest too, babe" "I'm alright. I got a few vargas" "Babe..." "Please let me stay... I really need to be with you..." He couldn't deny Keith anything when he was so soft and warm against him "Mmm... but you need to rest properly, and have something to eat..." "I'm fine, babe. Now that you're awake, I'm fine" "Mami, make sure he eats and rests... imma just gonna go back to sleep for a bit" Settling back against him, Keith nuzzled into his neck as he finally loosened his hold. A hand lazily running up from his side to rest on his chest as he pressed a kiss to the curve of Lance's neck "I love you, baby. I don't just love you... I'm in love with you. Thank you for coming back to me" It was a secret whisper meant only for him. It was also the best wakeup he'd ever had when it came to coming out of a pod. Keith was such an adorable bastard. * Spending most of the first quintant out the pod napping off and on, Lance was still sleepy when Coran came to check on them the following morning. His mother was off calling home to let them all know Lance was still doing alright, leaving Keith to snuggle up with his boyfriend as much as he liked. With Lance being tired of being so tired, he was sitting between Keith's legs, back against the half-Galra's hand as he tried not to fall asleep. Sleepy Lance was adorable... but unfortunately being so sleepy had also left Lance on edge. His left hand had become a no go zone, Keith respecting the fact Lance hadn't had a chance to see his hand yet, so hadn't pushed to see the wound left. It wasn't like he wanted to. When a worried Coran turned up in the waiting room, wringing his hands and unable to stand still, Keith had nearly burst into tears before he even knew what had happened. He still didn't know much, only that Lance had some kind of bleed in the brain while in surgery due to something abnormal in his head, and while it'd been treated, brain injuries were never something to take lightly. With his face completely hidden by the mass of flowers in the bouquet he carried, Coran was doing that thing where he was smiling widely while his bottom lip wobbled threatening. Carrying the flowers over, he placed them down into Lance's lap, before finally giving in and launching himself on Lance, crying softly. Patting Coran's back, Lance laughed softly "I've had enough from mami and Keith" "You gave us all quite the scare" Keith didn't need to see Lance's face to know Lance was rolling his eyes. He well and truly got it "I'm ok... I mean, I am ok, aren't I?" "Yes indeed, number three. Fit as... a fiddle!" Coran sounded proud to have got the saying right "See Keith, you can relax now" How was he supposed to relax? He hadn't been able to relax since Lance had wheeled off for surgery. He'd kind of made a nuisance of himself demanding answers anytime anyone checked the pod Lance was in "He was quite lost without you" "He made a pest of himself, didn't he?" Coran hummed, the man had never excelled at lying. Groaning loudly at the noise, Lance wriggled against him to face him "Please tell me you didn't break anything" "I didn't break anything important" He hadn't... broken anything much. Maybe a few coffeecup that came with everyone insisting he drink, eat and rest... Yeah. He was a wreck. A ball of anger that not having Lance by his side brought back to life. He'd even been dobbed into Shiro, and Kosmo had deserted him to trail around after Coran. He came back at night, which was a nice distraction, but the thought of brain damage just wouldn't leave his mind. Narrowing his eyes, Lance huffed before turning back to Coran who had taken a seat in the visitors chair "Sooo. What's this scare all about?" Unable to keep still, Coran took the flowers from Lance's lap, standing up again to find up a vase for them "Coran?" "Hang on my boy" Lance gave a frustrated groan "You can't tell me to hang on. I've been hanging on for the two movements. Mami said I bleed in my brain. Was it to do with the scarring there?" "No, no... I'm so sorry my boy" Lance tensed in his hold, his scent turning feared "Coran, you're freaking him out. The flowers can wait. What happened in there? You said it was an easy surgery. It was supposed to be an easy procedure. You said he'd be perfectly fine. So you need to explain to us what happened properly" "Yes. Yes... I'm sorry, you're right. I failed you. Young Miss Daehra and I both failed you" Daehra. Failed. Lance. Those three words didn't go together. She was almost fanatical about the health of her team, learning absolutely everything she could. "Coran" Keith's tone held a gentle growl "As you say, you did suffer a bleed. A piece of alien technology was found in your brain, where the sample was supposed to have been taken from. Given it was organic, it wasn't picked up on Daehra's scanners. It was so small, it'd give the ice worms of Csadex 9 a run for their money" Lance was still tense, Keith couldn't brain him. The idea of having something in his brain that reminded Coran of worms was kind of revolting "There was what?" "A little tiny tracker. Started transmitting almost as soon as they got started. We got that pesky blighter, but couldn't remove it intact. We theorise that they implanted it while taking their samples" "Coran, not to burst your bubble here, but wouldn't it have started sooner? Like after it was put in? Or when we were on the Atlas?" Pulling forward, Lance drew his knees up as he did when upset "Well, my boy. We've never seen anything like it... We cannot confirm for sure that it was a tracker, but with how desperate they seemed for you, it is our most valid theory" "A theory that doesn't even make sense. I was on the Atlas for movements. I was around Altean tech on the Atlas. Plus, why didn't you guys pick it up with your scanners when we were on the prison ship?" "The Atlas has scramblers in place that prevent outgoing calls on unknown frequencies. You couldn't get a signal on that ship either. Maybe... it was so they could find us if we escaped" "It's fucking wrong, is what it is. Haven't they taken enough from me? Without putting something in my head, like I'm an intergalactic cat"