#i'm working on the hanged man next. not sure whether ill go all out for the minor arcana too or just use their symbols

[coriander-candlesticks]

I've been wanting to make my own set of tarot cards for a while now but wasn't sure how. I found out that my local metaphysical shop sells blank decks (!!) so I'm finally starting to design them! It's going to take a while, of course, but I'm enjoying just kinda going on instincts instead of exhausting myself by overthinking a theme I may or may not want to stick with by the time I'm done sketching and start painting them.

[cozymoko]

Platonic!Yandere Dad Gojo would be swell for me obvs not for the kid

Glad to see you back 🤗

PLATONIC! YANDERE DAD GOJO SATORU

Note: Hey, hey, hey! I'm glad to be back.

Format: Headcanons

Featuring: Platonic! Yandere Gojo Satoru

WARNINGS: Slight yandere themes

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀— 「大丈夫でしょう。だって、君弱いもん。」

Whether you're the product of a fling, a past relationship, hell, even if you aren't his blood. GOJO SATORU will take full responsibility for you!

You're spoiled rotten; it's honestly humorous. Even if your eyes linger for a moment, it's yours. No matter the price — the time — hell, even the place. There's no room for anything even relatively mediocre for you.

The day you met Megumi was the day he felt complete. If not for Megumi constantly being by your side, Gojo would've already worried himself to death! Sure, he gets a little jealous of when the two of you spend time together but that's normal, right?

There's not a moment when you aren't on his mind. In a very caring way, of course. Expect plenty of souvenirs from him, matching keychains being one of his personal favorite. But that's only when Gojo's not sneaking around his responsibilities (too much). If there's an opportunity, he'd take you out on several expensive trips, pushing his work onto Megumi to make up for it. Hey, it's not his fault he has a little too much favoritism towards you!

“Hey! That's no fair!” Gojo pouted. “You've been hanging out with Megumi more and more lately!”

You sat there, dumbfounded, at the behavior of the man you once admired wholeheartedly. In other words, your childish father. Maybe you'd be surprised if this were the first time it's happened; but, it's not.

At times you felt like his parent, but it was kinda of endearing in a sense. Gojo's strange mannerisms always kept you on your toes, patiently awaiting his next move with anticipation or even anxiety. But it wasn't all that bad.

You wouldn't give it up for the world.

Gojo is protective towards all his students, so you are no exception. Perhaps he'd be a bit more watchful of you but that's it. Gojo truly has no desire to monopolize your time, if anything he just wants to give you a better childhood than he had. But hey, teenagers need space! He gets that.

Sure he likes to joke around, but not at the expense of your well-being. The thought of you dying on his account is enough to send him spiraling. Man I'd hate to be whoever's on the receiving end.

“It's a shame, really. To end your life so early, that is.” The sorcerers' tone was upbeat yet seemingly forced. A tight lipped-smile adorned his lips, though it didn't reach his vibrant eyes. "But you've hurt someone extremely important to me. For that, you'll have to die.”

Gojo lowered to his heels, gazing lazily at the curse trembling before him. It was a rather hideous one at that. To think this thing almost caused you so much grief renders him ill. More so than the dark emotions brewing in his being the longer he watched it squirm.

Only then, did a single thought cross his mind. A thought that turned his cold smile warm — genuine, sinister even. “Hah! But don't worry, I'll make it worth your while. After all, being tortured by the strongest should be an honor.”

Your youth slips day by day, and with it your attention. It's only a matter of time before you go on to pursue a career in the adult world one day. The hourglass only has so much sand. Oh, that cruel side of the world that isn't made for such an oblivious kid — Satoru's kid at that.

Unlike Megumi, Gojo knows there's no real guarantee that you'll join the Jujutsu world. It's dangerous, so in a way he's relived by your lack of interest. However, if you attended Jujutsu Tech, then he could spend more time with you. Plus you're the child of the strongest, so there's no way you could lose!

“Wahh! My baby's growing up!” Gojo wails childishly, squishing his pale cheek against your own. “Please say you won't forget about Daddy!”

You scoff, peeling his lean arms from your shoulders. For someone so slim, he sure had a grip that could kill. “Dad, you're so dramatic. Of course I won't forget about you.”

He smiled, waving you off with a cheerful bye. Only for that same smile ti drop once you left.The genuinity of your words did little to soothe him. His heart churned in his chest as though it was being restricted by the sturdiest of rope.

You were growing up so fast he could hardly believe it. Soon enough you'll be moving out and starting a family of your own. Well, a new family plus him and Megumi of course!

As a father, his yandere tendencies aren't too noticeable to the naked eye. Some would argue that they dont exist. It's truly a side that Gojo never wants you to ever see. The opinions of others matter little in comparison to your own. Gojo desperately wants you to have the childhood he could not and he won't stop until you get just that. You deserve it.

GOJO SATORU isn't willing to get his hands dirty for just anyone. But it seems that when it comes to you and Megumi, he's more inclined to letting it happen.

Oh! Don't mind the blood on his hands. It's nothing, honestly! Just go hang out with Megumi for a bit until Gojo cleans up his little mess. Oh, and remember not to ask any unnecessary questions~!

[armpirate]

UNDER HIS SKIN || JJK || Ch. 20

Pairings: tattoist!jk x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, friends to lovers, tattoo au, virgin reader.

Summary: They say there are two versions for every story, and it's important to hear both of them. Everybody is hearing your side of the story, but it's just fair to get to know his.

After breaking up with his girlfriend, the only thing he wanted was to have fun with no attachment. You wanted to get rid of your virginity, and he wanted to tick you off his list. What he didn't expect was getting so emotionally attached to you that he would regret the deal.

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

Me: are u home?

Me: if ur mad for today... i promise ill make it up.

I tried to get in contact with Y/n ever since I crossed the door to the street. I've been waiting for a reply from her for almost an hour, making my way back to the tattoo studio just so I can pick my motorbike and get it back.

And once I get there, I don't leave to go back home. I just close myself inside my studio, still waiting for a text from her. And considering she was off today, I end up guessing she's probably outside.

Me: Are you out with the girls?

For one second, I wonder if she's mad because I canceled our plans at the last minute, something that leads me to check my sister's stories to find Y/n sneaking out of the picture on every single pic or video Soo has decided to post.

Few minutes later, I see Y/n has read my text, but minutes keep going by and she doesn't reply back.

Yeah, she's mad.

And that's something that leads me to send a text to Soo, just to find out she's already sent me three texts throughout the evening, and tried to call me once. Although it's weird, I don't really pay much attention to it.

—Leslie? —I hear her voice from the other side— Really?

I'll kill Mark tomorrow.

—That's what all those texts were about? —I roll my eyes.

—I thought you moved on —I hear her sighing—. What about this new girl? You can't be so fucking stupid, Jungkook.

Now it's when I regret ever mentioning I was seeing someone new, although she was the one that kept insisting when she caught me smiling at my phone at one of our family lunches. She doesn't waste the chance to bring this new girl back, but tonight is different. Soo usually just teases me, and tries to play with me ever since I told her. "Oh, Mrs. Jeon wants your attention" "When will we meet her?". But tonight... Tonight I can tell she's annoyed at the possibility of me ruining whatever I possibly have with Y/n for my ex.

As she speaks, I can hear different voices and laughs, and the unknown rhythm of a song playing in the background.

—Where are you? I can barely hear you.

—The bar where Tam and Y/n work, we all came here to keep Tam some company —she sighs—. Don't switch the topic, Jeon. I swear to god if you do the same mist...

But I'm not able to hear anything else from her before I hang up the call. I know I'm going to regret that the moment I see her again, but for now I want to focus on something else, which is another awful idea.

When I park the motorbike outside the bar, all I can think about is seeing Y/n and making sure everything is alright. But before I cross the door, I wonder if it'd be too obvious why I'm here for the second I set a foot inside. There's also the possibility of them thinking I came to talk to Soo in person even if that isn't the case.

The inner battle stops the second I spot Y/n talking with someone at one extreme of the counter. Her body is lazily supported on the wooden surface, while her hips are slightly swayed and her head cockily tilted. The man is tall enough for me to be able to see his face over her shoulder. A cocky smile is drawn on his face, while his eyes travel all over her body, having her face as the last stop.

Something turns on in my body, because I'm walking inside the bar and towards Y/n as if I weren't debating seconds ago whether to stay outside or not.

Suddenly I don't care whether her friends and my sister are here or not. I just want to keep her away.

—Well, I saw you here by yourself, and thought of keeping you company. That's it —I see him shrugging—. But if you want to give me your phone number...

—Alr... —she's about to agree, but I stop before she's able to.

—I could give you mine, too —I rush to say, looking at the stranger with squinted eyes. —. Note it down: six, seven, three... What? Not interested?

I realize how much I fucked it up just now when she turns to me with wide eyes, surprise by my attitude. Or maybe just surprised to see me here.

—I'm sorry —the man apologizes, uncomfortable—. I didn't know she had a boyfriend.

—I don't —I hear her saying.

How fast she denies me annoys me more than it should, which is zero -considering the kind of relationship we both have supposedly.

—What the fuck are you doing? —she turns to me.

I never look back at her, because I will be aware of everything I'm doing and how I'm not the one in the right in this situation. Instead, I keep my eyes on the man who nervously smiles, saying goodbye to Y/n before he finally leaves.

—What's your problem?

—He was drooling over you.

And now I'm confused on whether I was mad because of the way he was looking at her, or how she was unbothered -and even liked- the way he was looking at her.

—I thought that was the fucking point —she stands in front of me, her whole body facing me as she speaks—. I don't think I went where you were, threw a tantrum and scared your e...

I look at her, confused at that. Does that mean she knows? And although it'd make a lot of sense, I doubt my sister would be airing my business like that. It's Soo either way, so it wouldn't shock me big time either.

—Jungkook?

Tammy's voice snaps me back to reality and what I'm doing. I shouldn't even be here in the first place.

—Soo wanted to see you —she comments when I turn to her.

—I know —I nod—. I thought she was still here —a big fat lie falls from my lips.

Basically, because my sister was the last person I thought of as I drove here.

—No, I think she went to your place —Tammy lets her head fall to her side as she thinks—. That's what she said, right? —she asks Y/n, looking for confirmation.

—Yeah —she sighs—. And since you're back, I'll get going now.

—Thanks for staying —they both hug tight.

A flicker of desperation goes over my body when I see her figure walking past me. Not only I have to explain myself with the whole Leslie situation, now I also have to make up for what happened with the man she was flirting with.

—I'll drive you home —I suggest, making her stop her tracks towards the door.

—No need to.

I'm about to insist, but Tammy does that work for me.

—Don't act pig headed —she intervenes—. I'll feel better if you leave with him.

With a heavy sigh, and her head falling back, she let us know she was giving in to what we both were asking. Tammy thanks me for driving Y/n home... If she only knew I'm the one who should be thankful to her right now.

When we get to my motorbike, I see her waiting at one side. She joins me in the back as soon as I hop on it, with the difference that she's sat further than she usually is. And when my eyes fly over my shoulder to catch a glimpse of her, I see her arms placed back on both sides of her body, holding tight to the bars.

Things seem to get even more tense when I stop in front of her place, and for some reason I have the slightest hope that we could make it up.

—I think we should talk —I mention when I stop the engine, turning my head at her.

—Is this because you don't want to confront Soo?

I didn't even remember Soo is probably at my place until she mentioned it again. That just adds another reason why I should stay here tonight.

—Just... Let's talk.

She puckers her lips, slightly tilting her head until she finally gives in with a small nod of her head.

Our way to her apartment is the quietest we've ever been since we started growing closer. It's uncomfortable, but especially concerning because it just proves that there's something wrong going on right now.

Unable to act the way I usually do -because it's not the time-, I just stick my hands inside of my pockets. My eyes fly to every corner in the room, to every small detail I've seen a thousand times before, combined with other new ones that kind of let me know

Jungkook seems to be thinking a million things right now, but doesn't say a word. He's usually carefree, and walks around as if he has been here even more times than me. But this time he's staying still, both hands in the pockets of his usual baggy jeans, while looking absolutely everywhere but in my direction.

—You said you wanted to talk —I break the silence—. Then talk.

Her tone is rough and dry. She wants to be done with this conversation just as much as I do. She crosses her arms over her chest, while her lower back rests on the backrest of her beige couch.

I don't know if she's mad for what happened back in the bar or if she's mad because Soo told them I met with Leslie... This isn't a good start.

—Why were you so annoyed before?

—You can't be serious... —she replies under her breath—So how you scared that guy away isn't enough for you?

So I guess she's mad for the way I treated the guy... Okay, reasonable. I was a little too rude with him, when his reaction was the exact same one I had the first time I saw her. It's completely understandable.

—Was I supposed to only hang out with the girls and wait for you to be done? —she tilts her head again— He was nice and I wanted to have fun. And it was all going great until you showed up with the jealous boyfriend act. Is that enough? Am I allowed to be annoyed?

And that glitches my brain, and pulls back whatever I thought was the main issue. So she's mad because I showed up and ruined her flirty moment?

—Just talk to me —a sudden push moves my body, forcing my eyes back on her.

—Do you want me to apologize? —I arch my eyebrows— I only did you a favor.

—No, you didn't —she doesn't let me continue—. I wasn't uncomfortable, I wasn't struggling... For the first time in my life I was comfortable with someone that's...

I wait for her to continue that sentence, and she doesn't know the amount of fuel she's just added.

—That's not an asshole.

I move my eyes away from her, annoyed at the situation, but especially annoyed at myself. All the time I was with Leslie, I kept thinking of rushing it and cutting it off so I could be with her -even if it was later than our main plan. While all she was mad for was me ruining her possible future date.

—Wow, thank you —I say ironically.

—Don't have the balls to play the victim —Y/n points her finger at me, each word tinted with more anger than the previous one—. Don't dare. You stood me up. Yet you think you have the right to come and interrupt me when I try to meet someone new? Which is also the point of us being in... whatever we have going on?

—I didn't like the way he was looking at you —I look back at her—. I know what was going through his head, and I didn't like it.

More like I didn't like what was possibly going through her head as well... But it's better not to say that.

—You know what I don't like? Learning through your sister you were meeting up with your ex, instead of you telling me directly when you canceled our plans.

In any other circumstance, or maybe five minutes ago, I'd have dropped a cocky smile and would have played it off so we could make it up. But that comment, in this exact moment, only annoys me. Why would she fucking care about who I'm meeting?

—Were you annoyed because I met Leslie or because I didn't tell you? —the question leaves my smiling adorned lips with a tone that comes up as funny, when I only wanted to make it sound cocky to piss her off.

—What annoys me is how you think you can do whatever the fuck you want, yet I can't do the same just "because you didn't like the way he was looking at me" —she mocks me—. I think it's simple to understand.

Aware that this conversation will take us nowhere, I try to put a stop to it. One of us has to bend and apologize, and seems like this time it'll be my turn. Not telling her about Leslie was a mistake on my side, but it wasn't like she needed to know either. We aren't dating and, as long as I don't hook up with any of the girls I could possibly meet, she has no reason to get mad.

—You're right. I'm sorry —I nod—. l don't know —I scratch the back of my head nervously—. I didn't think before acting. I couldn't control myself.

And while I thought she'd be softer, and would play along to my apology, she goes on with the argument.

—You couldn't control yourself? You were the one who came up with the no jealousy rule, yet you excuse yourself with it?

A little ironic she's annoyed about the jealousy rule, when she was pissed off about me meeting Leslie.

—Don't act like you weren't jealous either —I bark back—. Why do you care so much whether I saw Leslie or not? Feel threatened?

I facepalm myself when the heat of the discussion gets over my body, and rolls my tongue more than it should. That last question is the dumbest thing I've ever said.

—Sure, threatened —although she's ready to throw a lot of things, she still tries to hold back as much as possible—. All I know is this deal has been useless, and you've been nothing but a pain in the ass. "I'll help you out" "You'll know how to deal with guys" —her voice deepens, trying to mimic mine—. Yet the only thing you've told me to do is watching people and doing research work.

—It seemed like the little help was of use for you tonight though.

Quite funny how she's now saying she regrets the deal, or how it's being useless, when not even a few weeks ago she was able to flirt with someone openly. Now that she's able to, she isn't able to credit me for what I've helped in?

—Might be the only thing that has been of use —she replies back—, but what's the point when I can't put it into practice because your ego gets hurt? —she shakes her head— This was a bad idea.

I feel hurt by her words. It's such a dumb and simple sentence, yet the feeling that gets over me when she says all of it was a bad idea... it's as if all the time we've spent together had meant nothing to her. She's the one that's getting the biggest piece of cake, yet she's the one who dares to say she regrets what's happened. Is it a bad idea now that she's realized she could have anyone else she wants to?

—It wasn't a bad idea when you were cumming on my leg to seal the deal, because I was the only one you had a chance with.

There isn't any anger in her expression anymore. Her lips seal slowly, forming a straight line, while the frown totally disappears when she moves her eyes away from me to look down at her feet.

She bites her lower lip tight, while her hands, hanging on both sides of her body, hold tight the fabric of her jeans.

And that's when I know how big I fucked it up right now.

Thinking this was just a heated discussion, I try to hold her arm to pull her into a hug, but she rejects it. Her hands push me away suddenly, still not looking up at me when she does.

I try to look for the right words to make it up, to let her know I didn't genuinely mean what I said, but that roller coaster of emotions has left me exhausted, and unable to process any information that isn't what I have in front of me right now.

—You can stay here the night —she talks first—, you probably don't want to deal with Soo. But I don't want to see you here when I wake up tomorrow.

She doesn't say anything else. After dropping that, she turns on her tracks and walks to her room, closing the door behind her.

After that, I have no reason to stay here. I know I have no reason to say here tonight.

And if I thought I'd find peace when I got back home, I was so mistaken...

Soo is waiting for me in front of my door, totally ready to drag me for everything that happened today, but I cut her off before she's able to speak.

—Not today —I cut her off, making my way inside my apartment.

—Not today? —she scoffs— Do I wait until she messes you up again, huh? What the hell were you even thinking about?

—She needed to see that everything was officially over between us —I let my body fall on the couch—. I just wanted to end things well.

—So... —she sits next to me— She didn't want to get back with you?

—Oh, she does —I nod, with my eyes still fixed on one of the dark wooden beams on the ceiling—. But I'm not interested. And I let her know.

Soo seems surprised at my comment, and so she shows it when she snaps my shoulder to get me to look at her.

—You seriously told her that?

—Yeah —I sigh.

—I'm proud of you —her arm surrounds my neck—. You deserve better than to be treated that way —her fingers tangle on some of my locks playfully—. Hopefully this new girl does.

But I don't tell her anything. It's not something she needs to know anyway. I rather let her think everything's fine. Basically, because I don't want to go too deep on whatever went down tonight, I don't want to go through everything we've both said again and again. It was enough just once.

We keep talking for a few more minutes, getting into more detail on what the conversation was about. And when I realize, she's almost falling asleep as I speak. With a chuckle, I take her to my bed and allow her to sleep there.

Another morning to wake up with a messy back. 

[tastyykpop]

ᴍʀ. ɴᴀᴋᴀᴍᴏᴛᴏ!!

Pairings: yuta x reader

Genre: suggestive

Warnings: dilf!yuta, shy!reader, hair grabbing, shibari, he do be cheating on his wife doe ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Mr. Nakamoto was a scary man. Actually no, to you he was a scary man. With a stone cold face and a tsundere like personality, why wouldn't you be scared? You're just a small girl anyway, shy and literally can't order her own food from McDonald's, of course he scares you! But, you almost always spent your days at his house. Whether it be with him or his son. And no matter what Mr. Nakamoto did, he scared the living shit out of you. He shouldn't because you've known him for so long, but he did.

There were multiple times where you would go to his kitchen, after sitting in his son's room for so long, and grab a quick drink of water while Mr. Nakamoto was there. He wouldn't be paying attention to you until he accidentally bumped into you, apologizing then smirking at your hesitant 'its okay' while not looking him in the eyes.

Every time he found it the most adorable thing ever. If no one was around, like his wife or son, he'd pinch your cheeks and coo at your bright red face, but if someone was around, he'd do what he did before and smirk whilst walking away from you.

But thats not really whats scary, actually it was something different.

One night, his son and wife were out of town for a week so he invited you over. Its nothing strange, you came over all the time even when his son wasn't home, but it was somewhat different this time however.

Mr. Nakamoto was drained and pissed from work after having a very bitchy and annoying intern. Next he and his wife got into a heated argument over their marriage being unstable and not the same like how it used to be. Words were thrown by the both of them, but Mr. Nakamoto was the most heated and ended the call by hanging up and throwing his phone, not letting the woman on the other line finish as he spewed countless of comments in anger at no one in particular.

Then there was you.

The entire day you weren't like your usual self. You weren't as shy and started making snarky comments after your parents yelled at you for failing a test. Cross that out. You didn't fail, they just didnt like seeing a B- as a grade. In their eyes that was a fail, but you tried your hardest on that test and all you got was them yelling and saying you slacked off.

So a combination like yours and Mr. Nakamotos was sure not going to end well.

"Come here," Mr. Nakamoto patted the couch, face still red from his mini temper tantrum, "I wanna fuck you."

Your eye twitched. It wasn't normal for you to get angry at him like this, but today had to be the day you did. Maybe it was the way he was so straight forward that sent you into another wave of anger, you didn't know. What you did know is that you wanted to bitch slap him into next year, "How about you go fuck yourself instead."

It all happened so quick. Mr. Nakamoto stood up and marched his way over towards you, towering over your small form as he glared down at you, "Thats not something my little girl would say." He raised a brow, "Where's my shy little girl?"

"Can you just fuck off for one god damn second, yuta. I'm not in the mood." You spat, venom fully laced in your voice as you said his name. He hated it. Never had he ever allowed you to say his first name. Hed prefer one of two things; sir or Mr. Nakamoto. And upon hearing his name, he realized you didn't catch on soon enough to take it back like you normally would. You would even sputter many apologies following the mistake too as he would chuckle and remind you to never call him that again. But now- now you weren't yourself, he didn't know who the hell you were. Mr. Nakamoto wanted his shy baby back.

"I'll give you five seconds to think about what you said and apologize for two things."

You scoffed, "Apologize?"

"Five."

"If you think ill apologize for calling you by your first name and what I said before,"

"Four."

"You're wrong."

"Three."

"And you are so,"

"Two."

"Fucking annoying. Sometimes I just wish you'd stop treating me like a shy little girl all the time."

"One."

You fucked up.

"Great, to the room you go."

"Wait-"

It was far too late for you, Mr. Nakamoto grabbed you by the hair, ignoring your please as you slapped his hand repeatedly. He pulled you down the hall and into a room where not even his wife or son stepped in since it was always locked and the key was always stored away with Mr. Nakamoto.

He threw you onto the bed, letting your body flop before you regained yourself and stared up at him with big apologetic eyes.

The older man grabbed a few things from a box that was under the bed, you couldn't get a good look at it, but you figured it was nothing good, "Since you don't want to be treated like my shy little girl," he flipped you, tearing off every last piece of clothing you had as he straddled your lower half, tying you in shibari, "Ill just treat you like my fucking slave instead."

"Mr. Nakamoto!! Please no..."

"If you want me to stop, say our safe word now because I'm not stopping after this." He waited for a few seconds, but you never spoke.

If you had known his torture wasn't just going to be tying you in a knot, then you would have said it, but you didn't. You endured everything. All the edging and orgasm denials. All the choking and gagging. All the bruises on your skin. All the hand prints on your face and ass. All the hair pulling and face fucking. Hes literally spat in your face and in your mouth. Made you lick his shoe. Shoved his fingers down your throat just to make you gag. Watched you cry after everything. No it was not fun. None of this was. After everything you had been through, you knew not to let your anger out on Mr. Nakamoto again.

[jaskiersvalley]

Hello!! 💕 Just wanted to let you know that I love your "Jaskier has always smelled of blood" au. It means a lot to me 💛 I feel like it brings some kind of awereness to the issue and I'm really gratefull for it. Thank you 💕

Nonnie, thank you so much for your kind words. That AU is one that I spent a lot of time mulling over and debating whether to write it or not. But given the fact that it means a lot to you, it was most definitely worth it. There is actually another topic that has been on my mind a fair amount that is as heavy as that AU, which is what happens when a suicide attempt doesn't succeed. Hopefully you won't mind if I write that as a little thank you for your lovely ask.

CW: Suicide attempt (overdose of Witcher potions)

Love wasn't meant to be part of a Witcher's life. That was what Eskel had always been taught and he accepted it as his lot in life. When he was younger, he had raged against it, tried to defy the truth. He attended parties, wooed and seduced wherever he went. Love never stuck but at least his lust was sated. Then Deidre happened and Eskel had a new reality to get used to, one where he was seen as monstrous, hideous and repulsive. Those were just Lambert's teasing words, trying to exaggerate and poke fun at the situation. Not that it helped. Suddenly, Eskel could only attend masquerade balls where his face was hidden from view for fear of upsetting humans. It was either that or finding hungry and desperate succubi who valued his Witcher enhanced attribute more than his visage. It didn't stop Lambert from cracking jokes.

"You don't have a succubi problem, you just have a succuebae. Get it? Before anyone else!"

It was easy for Lambert to say, brothels still took his coin if he wanted it. Though, by the sounds of stories, he didn't need to frequent such places, not when he had a Cat Witcher travelling with him and eager to share all aspects of the Path, not just the pay for contracts. Still, Eskel couldn't begrudge Lambert, he'd always had a shit lot in life. If he could buck the rule about love, good for him, he deserved that slice of happiness.

Then Geralt had to go and find himself a bard who was devoted to him. Eskel could smell the pining on Geralt over winters and then love when Jaskier finally spent the winter with them. That was fine too. Much like Lambert, Geralt also deserved someone to love and share his life with. Even multiple someones when Yennefer arrived and had no need of a room of her own.

It was fine. Eskel could be happy for them. He wasn't jealous, didn't feel like he'd been cheated out of anything. Those were thoughts he turned away from every night when he pulled his covers tight around him and pretended he didn't wish it was the warm embrace of a lover, probably much like the other two had.

Things got worse when Eskel started getting left out of things. There were games that the happy couples played in the evenings, something about how well they knew each other. It was raucous and fun by the sounds of it. Eskel stayed in the kitchen, cleaning because it wasn't a game he could play. The double dates looked fun, going out on rides. Once Yennefer even opened up a portal for them to spend a night away for some romantic getaway. The bard about Eskel bringing Lil Bleater had stung more than he cared to admit. Slowly, Eskel was forgotten. Vesemir had his books, was content with those and the letters he seemed to send. If Eskel was lucky, he'd end up like him. But Eskel didn't want to become Vesemir in his old age. Not even Vesemir really, not when Eskel didn't even have friends to exchange letters with.

The bleakness of it ate away at Eskel for years. Each time he returned to Kaer Morhen without a travelling companion, without someone to write to, he felt like a failure. To the point that he tried drinking, tried fisstech, anything to forget, even if just for a little while. Nothing worked though, every time reality caught up with him. There was only one solution he could see, one where there was no tomorrow to wake up to. It wasn't a rash decision, Eskel didn't immediately act on those thoughts. But his mind was made up and with that came a sense of relief. He had a few things to get in order, to figure out but there was now an end in sight, a way out and on his own terms.

One last winter he made the trek to Kaer Morhen. He had a tidy pack of coins, some truly excellent Gwent cards and a large stash of potions he had brewed up. All in all, he looked like he had a good year on the Path. Nobody needed to know that all his external riches were a façade for the poverty of his heart.

His plan was a simple one. It wasn't like a Witcher left a will or anything like that, his measly belongings got scavenged when he didn't return from a contract. That wasn't what Eskel wanted, he was going to make sure all his belongings were going to go to the person he wanted them to end up with. Which was why he started with Gwent. He played Geralt and, slowly but surely, lost all his best cards. Eskel prided himself in how he could play so well that they others believed he was having a bad run. Couple it with drinking some of Lambert's brew, it was an uproarious night full of laughter, friendly slaps to his back and loudly declared sympathy for his poor, alcohol addled brain.

Once the good Gwent cards were gone, Eskel switched out, claiming he needed someone lesser to play because Geralt was just too good. As predicted, Lambert took great offence at being called a worse player and shoved Geralt out the way. Eskel bet money, a nice pair of gloves and, in an almost unheard of turn, Scorpion.

"I needed to leave you with things to barter with for the rest of winter," he told Lambert with a smile. "Because I'll be winning it all back in the coming weeks, with interest on top."

The laughter that went up at that was nice. Eskel was satisfied all the worthwhile things in his possession had found good homes. Vesemir had already taken the spices and seeds he had returned with, along with the small mountain of foods that would keep them well fed over winter. What Eskel didn't expect was the hugs and pats to his back as they got ready to get to bed.

"It was nice to see you smiling and laughing again," Jaskier commented.

"This was like the old days," Lambert agreed, rubbing his knuckles over the top of Eskel's head viciously.

Aiden clasped his shoulder and gave it a squeeze with a smile. "Good to have you back."

It wasn't like Eskel had ever left, he had been there all those years, it was the others who didn't want him. It didn't matter now though. They'd had one final night together, it all went well. Eskel waved goodbye to them all, heart heavy but also light. He couldn't have asked for a better final evening.

Back at his room, he sat down on his bed and looked around. There wasn't much left. The furs and throws were all down in the communal areas, he'd migrated those down over the last couple of weeks. His armour wouldn't fit anyone and it wasn't suitable for reworking for the others. It would be the perfect thing to wear to his funeral pyre so he pulled it on one last time, taking a deep breath as the familiar scent of worn leather enveloped him. All the potions he'd brought back with him were lined up on his bedside table. He knew what he was doing. The others would understand, maybe even take it as the gift he meant it to be. He wouldn't be the odd one out anymore, the loner who brought the group down by hanging onto their coattails. They could have their double dates, their romantic getaways without having to worry about him or feeling guilty for leaving him behind.

The first potion was Cat, he downed it, feeling the world shift into larger clarity in the darkness of his room. It didn't sit heavy in his stomach, three potions were fine to take, four was when the toxicity began to affect him. Though Eskel was a large man, he could probably deal with about six potions before he became ill. It was why he had fifteen little bottles lined up, one worse than the other in terms of toxicity. Next, a Maribor Forest slid down his throat, followed by a Lapwing. They were all conflicting potions, making his body shake. Brock tasted foul but it was still better than Rook which made Eskel's heart pound. Taking a break, Eskel settled back on his bed, head spinning. He could feel his whole body shaking with unspent energy the potions teased out of him. It felt horrible, his stomach roiled. Without his attention on some creature and the fight for his life, Eskel couldn't help but focus on the way his joints seemed to itch, his muscles tingling.

Five potions weren't going to be enough. Reaching for another bottle, Eskel knocked back two Thunderbolts in a row. He gagged but pushed on, head swimming. Virga at least tasted a little better. It was wiped out by the Nekker Warrior Decoction. The world was fuzzy, Eskel whimpered a little as his muscles seized and cramped and his stomach ached. He'd rarely taken enough potions to even flirt with the edges of toxicity, to deliberately do it was agony. This wasn't how he'd expected it to go, he thought he'd take them, lie back and go to sleep. Pain was not part of the deal but he would shoulder it, this was his choice. A couple of the empty bottles clattered to the ground as he reached for the next one. Most of the Black Blood went down his chin as he spluttered. Leaning against the headboard, he closed his eyes, willing the wooziness to go.

Maybe to took more potions, maybe they were dreams, he didn't know. What Eskel did know was that he woke up in his bed, the sun shining bright in the sky. Head pounding and stomach churning, he could smell stale vomit in the air. Rolling onto his side, he threw up over the edge of his bed. Breathing shaky, Eskel coughed miserably and spat to clear the bitter taste from his mouth. Judging by the state of his floor, it wasn't the first time he had thrown up but it was definitely the only one he could remember. Flopping back onto the bed, Eskel covered his face with his palms and choked back on a howl of frustration. He couldn't even kill himself properly.

The problem was, Eskel had no plans for what to do if he failed. He'd been so certain that he would go to sleep and never wake up again. At a loss, he fell back onto habits and routine. He was already dressed in his armour which was acceptable clothing to go downstairs for breakfast. Nothing heavy, he couldn't face the idea of eating anything. But a drink of water would do him good. Stumbling into the kitchen, he grunted a greeting at the others who seemed to be having lunch. Of course they didn't notice he hadn't gotten up for breakfast. Either that or they just didn't care.

"You're dressed ready for war," Lambert joked but the smile on his face froze when Eskel looked at him. "Woah. You look like shit."

Geralt was out of his seat and grabbing Eskel by the chin, giving him a close inspection and a less than subtle sniff. Whatever he detected had him tensing up and glancing to Lambert who looked alarmed too.

"Let's get a bit of food in you," Geralt rumbled and guided Eskel to the table where Aiden's face turned stricken. Even Jaskier and Yennefer looked solemn, their usual rivalry nowhere to be seen. In fact, everyone seemed intent of giving Eskel the attention he didn't crave.

From the doorway, Lambert called, "Geralt" and stepped back. But the clink of bottles in his hand and the hushed, hurried conversation gave away the fact Eskel's dirty secret had been found out.

"I'll go clean the room but he's not going back there. Not alone," Lambert growled. The others around the table didn't even bother pretending they weren't listening in.

Vesemir's footsteps approached and Eskel wished fervently that the potions had done the job. Especially as he listened to the conversation.

"What's going on here?"

"It's Eskel he-" the clink of bottles followed again, Lambert no doubt showing Vesemir the evidence of Eskel's shame.

"I see." Vesemir rumbled softly and walked into the kitchen. He sat down next to Eskel, not saying a word. However, he squeezed his shoulder and swapped out the tankard of water for a warm tea, adding a dash of honey to it. "Geralt, get a Golden Oriole from the cupboard."

Eskel could only watch as it was added to his tea, heart sinking. Nobody said anything. Not even when Lambert returned, looking a little green in the face. He sat down, squirming in the silence.

"Are we not going to say anything about it?" He asked in the end. "We can't just pretend it never happened."

"We won't," Vesemir replied, voice warm but also full of warning. "But there's a time and place for everything. Right now, our priority is the physical. The Golden Oriole will help. Then Eskel will go and have a lie down in front of the fire to sleep and let his body heal."

It was so much easier to follow Vesemir's instructions than have to think for himself. Eskel hadn't thought he'd see the sun again, hadn't thought he'd have to worry about things like daily chores and ways to spend the long hours of a day. At some point he must have finished his tea because the mug was empty but Eskel didn't remember it. He was ushered towards the pile of furs and throws from his room and he sank into them, exhausted already. He was only half awake as he heard the conversation around him while a throw was carefully draped over him.

"How could he do this?" Geralt hissed, sounding angry for the first time. "Why would he do this to us?"

"I'm sure we'll find out." The reply from Vesemir was soft and calm. "But what we need to focus on is helping him realise it was a good thing he didn't succeed."

"What if he tries again?"

"We have to hope he doesn't. He won't be alone for the next few weeks, we'll take turns keeping him company. And hope that we can do enough to make him want to stay." Vesemir was oddly calm and resigned. "I've seen others do this before. We can only hope to counter the darkness that has befallen his mind."

Lambert joined the quiet conversation. "But he seemed so happy last night. In fact, he's been the most at peace in years. I thought he was getting better."

Even half asleep, Eskel could understand the words, appreciate the thoughts behind them. But he didn't know if the plan would work. He doubted the others would understand or would be able to do anything to help him. After all, they still had their partners, lovers and each other. All Eskel knew for certain was that if he tried again, he'd do something with an assured outcome. He just hoped the others would understand.

[rixxy8173571m3w1p3]

The Truths Found On Petram Viridios IV (2/?)

A/n: I really enjoyed writing this chapter. Read Part 1

____________

Chapter 2: Getting Along

There was so much you still had to learn about mice and Salamandrian men; minus the mice part. You were surprised by V'gha's chattiness. Why, it was no sooner when you two had taken a seat that he began asking about your culture, interests, as well as to what you did for occupation. It seemed that he was fascinated by how both you and Zeta-7 lived; being that you were the only human he's officially met, he wanted answers for the questions which his home world's databases could not answer. You couldn't fool him when it came to your acquaintance with Rick as his neighbor, but you played it off by saying that he was the local mad scientist that everyone knew of but gave little importance to; it hurts you to say this, for he was worthy of the highest praise, with his extraordinary mind and his winsome personality, but V'gha was more familiar with Zeta-7 then you had known; it seemed Rick had a bigger reputation then you had thought, and the chemist hoped that he could make his acquaintance once all this was over; how he could be interested after all your initial rudeness was inspiring and in its own right.

You found his straightforward nature refreshing, albeit at times coming across as nosy, but first impressions at times gave allowances for this; to discover that despite how one may come across in passing, is not always the sincerest, true version of oneself. There was no malice or ill intent in his inquiries or reactions to your answers, and while you had redirected many of his questions, he didn't seem to mind; whatever you shared gave him delight. Over and over you wondered why Rick couldn't have been seated at this table, for this creature could have shared all that fascinated him with a fellow scientist and they could have debated in peace over theories and experiments; for your part, you would have sat there raptly, admiring the like-minded individuals who might or might not have been jealous at one point or another over understandings, discoveries and what not. As you two talked, you scanned the garden with your eyes, and searched for Rick, but couldn't spot his bowl cut anywhere; you trusted that he'd show up one way or another, but you hoped for sooner rather than later. In the meantime, you two discussed how fascinating the planet and its inhabitants were while making remarks on the flavor of the food  "My soup is thin and looks as though I stuck my foot in it, but it tastes like honey." you commented as you set your spoon back down. "I'm not sure whether to drink it or to jar it."

"Neither. It's what your utensils will go in once you are done eating."

"Oh, I probably shouldn't have tasted it then."

"No harm will be done." he chuckled, which exposed his fine, sharp rows of teeth. "I've taken the liberty of scanning it to make sure."

If Zeta-7 had been here, he might've tried the utensil cleaner on purpose in the good ole' way of tasting the chemical when he should've tested it. Yet, since he wasn't here, you were ready to admit that you found V'gha a bit more intriguing then you had anticipated. When you had initially boarded the ship and met him upon entering a cabin, you were determined to despise him for you didn't want to appear weak in front of strangers, but it melted away as he decided to apologize once you two had reached your assigned table. Sure, you weren't really into reptiles, but whether it was how his skin glistened in the starlight, his intellect, or how his bright oval eyes seemed to bore into you as you spoke, it was somewhat flattering; you thought only Rick could make you feel this way; hopefully, it was his simple charm and newfound politeness, and nothing more. To ease the anxious thoughts which were building in your chest, you glanced at the empty third chair. "Do you think Noathamas is in trouble?"

"I'm not sure." he confessed in all seriousness. "After all, he did violate one of their laws which was not to eat any of the guests. I don't know what came over him, but hopefully, whatever consequences come his way, will simply be disciplinary action and nothing more."

"Yeah, that would be good."

Though, you blamed the fact that the knight had returned from battle not long ago, and might've been triggered by something done or said; you hoped he'd survive. To distract yourself further, you stabbed your synthesized meal. It was a mass of congealed worm meal, and you pretended to eat it, but you weren't really hungry; it was supposed to be calcium-rich if you were correct. "So," you wondered as you pushed away your dish. "where you're from, do you do stuff like this?"

"You mean attend formal gatherings where I'm not allowed to have fun? Or meet total strangers that I'd rather study then stand next to? Hmm, more often than I'd like. It does have its perks. I'm highly respected in my field and get paid well, but I don't get out much unless it's work-related. A majority of my free time is used to study journals or to sleep. Occasionally both."

"That's a bummer. Not the studying part, because that can be fun if it's a topic you're passionate about, but you strike me as someone who enjoys good company. I'm surprised that at this point you haven't mentioned hanging out with friends or family."

The pause in conversation didn't seem long enough for your liking, but neither was it short enough to keep its natural flow. There seemed to be a distant, far off look, as though he were staring through you, at someone else; longing; one which would've gone without notice if you hadn't been used to reading people who were like Rick; intelligent, curious, lonely people who were less like normal men, but were no less mortal, and not quite a machine. When he started, you hadn't expected the familiarity in his words. "I consider my lab as my friend and my lab samples as my family. It's where I am most of the time."

Before you met Rick, would he have said the same? Almost, for his inventions and things bought, made, or salvaged held meaning; he was very sentimental but desperate to cling on to good feelings; maybe, these two weren't so different. "I used to feel the same way about the characters I wrote," you started, wondering if this was a good idea. Yet, now that you've shared this much, you couldn't stop now. "and the stories which I typed for others consumption and entertainment. It's as though you spill and pour a bit of yourself into these dreams and passions. As a famous singer once sang, 'You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one.'"

"What a way to put it. I think I might've heard the song you quoted some years ago. I believe my satellites picked up the transmission."

You smiled at that. You had heard the stories, read the theories, and admired man's will of wanting to make contact with the unknown; if only they would have known what they were getting themselves into. It wasn't all bad, and could very much be as Star Trek would put it, 'To seek out new life and new civilizations. To boldly go where no man has gone before!' And to watch an intellectual man like Zeta-7 to almost wax poetic about the marvels and atrocities which were in the depths of space, and listening to how an alien admired what was in another quadrant of space, why it warmed your heart. "That's neat. It's funny," you admitted a bit quietly at first, then you raised your eyes towards him. "I'm not used to these kinds of events, but I gotta admit that it hasn't been so bad. You've made an otherwise tiresome task a joyful one."

You had long since noticed that his face was very stiff when it came to expressing emotions, but he still managed a smile that was no less winning. And unlike most of the evening there was an unaccountable silence. Till now, it seemed nothing could stop the Salamandrian from talking, but whatever had come over him went away as a danceable tune began to play, and you felt a subtle shift as he stood and wondered if you cared to dance. Keeping in mind the strict rules of this planet, you raised a brow, but he seemed to know what to do. "Come, I'll show you how it is done."

With a nod, you followed him all the while keeping a fair distance. Beneath your feet, you felt the bumpy path through your thin flats and relished the strong gust of wind that whipped your hair about. If you had closed your eyes, you could almost imagine yourself back home in Rick's backyard, remembering one of the first times you urged him to dance under the moonlit night, admiring how he colored when you realized it was a first for him; reluctant he stood on the patio unsure of what to do, but you smiled at him and told him there wasn't much to it because it was simply more romantic. Oh, how your heart ached for those days, but there wasn't much time to continue reminiscing, for you were dragged back to reality by the candor of the chemist's voice. "We're here."

On a raised platform was a honeycomb pattern of tiles, which illuminated when stepped on. V'gha took his place and stood very still until a see-through chamber enclosed him in. There was no panic or surprise, which led you to believe that he had done this before. In like manner, you followed his lead and took your place a few feet away and stood still until a chamber rose to encapsulate you in it. You felt a tightness in your chest, and took deep breaths in order not to panic, but a new tune began to play and it struck you with a sense of deja vu. 

A glance at the stage revealed the appearance of a tall, veiled figure surrounded by six guards. You pressed a hand over your heart, feeling it quicken as he swiftly, but gently passed his fingers over a golden orbed plant which had very stiff leaves, and when it detected movement, it vibrated, and this, in turn, caused it to emanate a sound a little more delicate than that of a kalimba. Its melody seeped into your bones, buzzing against your skin, and in it you felt a sense of belonging and warmth to a moment. Along with the veiled figure was the being made of pure energy, whose voice added body to the already beautiful tune; flowers bloomed at high frequencies, and thread-thin roots spread along the stage and dance floor; illuminating at rhythmic intervals.

You imagined yourself dancing with Zeta-7, on a plane of nothingness; submerged in a viscous sweetness then rising to the surface; floating, falling, losing yourself in a funny world, with every intrinsic, idiosyncratic, and inviting thing in your path; laced fingers, shared breaths, surrounded by his warmth, secure in the nearness of him, and sure in his grasp; he was incandescently happy, and he was as much yourself as you were of him. "C-can you hear me princess?" he whispered.

You could hear him, but you couldn't answer. Lips ghosted over yours, whispering phrases you thought you recognized; haunting you; trying to tell you something of the utmost importance, but the song ceased, and the figure was gone; breaking the trance you hadn't known you'd been under. When the chamber returned from whence it had come, you followed V'gha back to the table; confused, embarrassed, lost, but with a sense of knowing. You thought to yourself that the veiled figure could've been Rick, for who else could evoke such feelings except for Rick; that or it truly was a tune which was out of this world. "You're quite a dancer." he commented, which interrupted your thoughts.

"What are you talking about? I didn't do anything."

Taking a sip of his murky beverage, he explained. "There is no physical dancing done on this planet, except to those exclusively done by royalty and that of the Milleannos guardians. What the rest of us did, including yourself, was dance with our soul. None of us can really discern what the other is dancing to, which makes it appropriate and is in line with the laws, but while the others might not have understood what you were about, I could tell from the bliss which you exhibited on your face when we came back this way. It made me conclude you had enjoyed yourself. Call it instinct, but I believe this is the happiest you've been all evening."

Again, he wasn't wrong. Yet, how could you not know? It's possible that Zeta-7 didn't know it would take place either. You remembered how you felt, how real and tangible it seemed, but if that was the case, were you really dancing with Rick, or the idea of him? Did it matter? 

The music now, albeit stimulating, was light and nearly silent as though someone was lightly humming. It was not as provoking as the tune earlier had been, but perhaps the experience you had was exclusive to your own feelings. "I did enjoy myself," you replied. "did you?"

"It was fascinating," he admitted smoothly. "but I much more prefer the view of all twenty-nine of this planet's moons. I cannot study the intangible thought of a feeling."

"If it helps, I much would've preferred regular dancing, but the experience...it's… it's one I wouldn't mind trying again." 

One you wouldn't mind trying again, but only with Rick.

Tbc

[bad-at-names-and-faces]

Timing and Dates

Chapter 9

There was a faint glow of twilight on the horizon.  The baby was turning rather roughly, and Anna wished she had eaten a lighter dinner the night before.  She grabbed for a small mint in the jar she was keeping at her bedside now.  Kristoff was snoring. She knew she wouldn’t be sleeping, but tried closing her eyes again.

"Why won't you touch me?" she asked him again.

"I… am touching you… what do you mean?"

"We're not in public. We're alone, and married, and it's been more than two years… the doctor even said it would be perfectly fine now. At least, that's what I thought he meant… he wasn't exactly being clear when he spoke to me… if I was jumping to conclusions and he told you something else…"

 "No… that's what he told me, too. You didn't misunderstand that…" he said, turning around to sit on the edge of the bed.

"So… I'm… Am I just not really attractive any more?" 

He turned around quickly at the suggestion.

"No. No, you are, very… very… You're beautiful. Still. And it's torture not to…" 

"If you don't want more children, at least just say so… We have four, that can be enough."

"No, I mean… I would love more, but… it's not about that, really…" he said, turning back away.

"Then what?"

"I don't want to lose you."

"We’re all going to die sometime," she said with a nervous laugh.

“In the future…” he said, turning around to look at her, “and don’t joke about it, please, you almost did...”

“But I didn’t.”

"I don't want them to grow up without their mother."

Anna stared out the window at the horizon, the blue glow slowly changing to purple and pink. The white nights were hard enough to sleep through when she could sleep, but it had been difficult lately. 

"I'm not blaming you," she said with her hand on her belly, "but you're welcome to come out at any time." 

She was amazed that Kristoff was sleeping through all her tossing and turning and getting up out of bed in the middle of the night. She had pretty much settled on just sitting up in bed to sleep with pillows stacked around her for the last few weeks. She felt like the only one who wasn't worried at these times. She didn't want to hurt anyone, and she knew why they were worried about her. But she wasn't afraid for herself.  

Her memories of the twins being born were vague and scattered. It was a month before anything should have been happening, and then she remembered the two of them looking at the baby and commenting that he had her hair. Then there were increasingly dream-like memories of people rushing about her. She remembered sitting up to see Kristoff asleep in a chair that had been pushed next to the bed, but then feeling suddenly ill and blacking out, she didn't know for how long. Elsa was there the next time she woke up, and she realized she didn't hear a baby, and at this point wasn't even sure she had really remembered holding it. 

"The baby! What happened to the baby?"

"They're fine, both of them."

"Wait… both?"

Anna got up and walked to the bathroom.  She turned on the light and looked at herself.  In the gaslight, at least, she hadn't really changed.  Outside, the sun was up. What day was it?  Last night, Kai had told her that nearly the entire council had arrived, certainly enough for a quorum.  She had agreed to go ahead and have the meeting first thing in the morning on Monday. It was Monday, that was all she had thought about. She wished she had told him to wait until the next day, at least.  Twenty-one years now.  She could try not to think about it.

She started to doubt whether it would be a good idea to try to spring any changes on the council when they were still expecting at least another few weeks to themselves. A few of them had been around before her father was even born. And now she was thinking about what day it was. 

She decided to ring the bell for breakfast, since Kristoff would need to wake up at some point. She ran her fingers through his hair.

"Honey, they're probably going to have that meeting this morning. You should get up. I've already had breakfast sent up for us."

"If you expect me to get up,” he said, pulling her back down on the bed, “you’re doing a bad job of it.”

“The meeting will be early, though,” she said, gently pulling his hand away and sitting up, “There was no way around it.”

Kristoff reluctantly got up.  Breakfast was set out when he was cleaned up and dressed, and Anna had already started her toast.  They both focused on eating.  When they had finished, they made their way to the library, where the council was already waiting.

Anna sat down, and introduced the proposed change.  It was obvious that several of them really had been given the line about changing the regency clause, and they were looking disgruntled already.  She had really meant it as a joke, and regretted saying it out loud. The proposed change seemed simple enough, though, and most of the council members were quietly nodding in agreement.  She asked if anyone had questions before she left to let them discuss the matter amongst themselves.

“Yes,” one of the oldest members spoke up, “does this mean you intend to take out the legitimacy requirement?”

Anna looked at Kristoff, who had been sitting quietly across the table, and he met her gaze with a mix of panic and anger.

“Excuse me, Your Grace,” Anna said, “I don’t think I understand.  Why would we intend to do any such thing?”

“It didn’t seem worth mentioning before, especially as the princess has so many brothers, but there was some… talk… about the timing of her birth.”

“That is quite some talk to be bringing up now, but I don’t see what the problem is. We were married in November, and I remember that you were there, and she was born in August, that seems simple enough.”

“Ah… Yes, that was a… charming little thing… However, I seem to recall that the bishop did not perform the ceremony until some time later, and then perhaps there was some… urgency."

Anna breathed slowly to try to control the flush she could feel in her cheeks. She looked over at Kristoff, and could tell that he was subtly fidgeting and clenching his jaw to avoid saying anything regrettable. 

"Thank you for reminding us, Your Grace. It is true, we weren't able to schedule a ceremony with the bishop until April, but I still don't see how that's relevant to the topic at hand."

"Your Majesty, if I may be blunt, allowing the princess to inherit would open the door to… many other claimants.  Your grandfather, and certain of his ancestors, were not exactly known for… I beg your pardon, Your Majesty, but I think you understand me?"

"I understand perfectly, and you don't need to worry about offending me on the topic of my grandfather. However, as you clearly have never read the laws closely, I will remind you that laws on legitimacy have no say about length of gestation, and whichever wedding you choose to accept, there is nothing to question…" she took a deep breath and shut her eyes.

"Your Majesty…"

"If that is the only question Your Grace has on the matter, I believe I have answered it completely. There is no question of legitimacy here, and comparing that to… whatever my grandfather did outside of marriage… please, let's leave it at that."

She looked over at Kristoff. He looked like he might explode any minute. 

"I need some rest," she said, "I expect the council can come to a decision."

Kristoff took the opportunity to walk over and help her out of her seat. 

They walked out of the room with his arm around her shoulder. As soon as the footman had closed the door behind them, he picked her up and carried her back to their room.

He freed one hand to open the bedroom door, and it slammed behind them.

"Is everything… are you...?" Kristoff tried to ask.

"Frustrated, that's all,” Anna interrupted, “They've had seventeen years to bring that up."

"I'm sorry I suggested it at all."

"No, it let me see what that man really thinks. I never felt quite right about him, and now I know for sure."

She adjusted herself on the bed, breathing and closing her eyes to calm herself as Kristoff helped her get her shoes and stockings off. He unlaced her gown and slipped that off.

"Could you hang it up over there? The maids always tell me what a pain that one is to clean and press, and it will be the only really formal one that fits me for a few months… thank you."

After hanging up her dress, he came back over and sat down, letting her lay her head in his lap.

Anna sighed, "I suppose I was a little too impatient about getting married right away."

"There were two of us. I could have told you to wait."

"Could you have? Once I suggested it?"

"Probably not," he admitted, "and I wouldn't change anything… not about that, I mean."

She smiled up at him and closed her eyes again, working on collecting herself a bit more and calming down.

"And I'm glad you kept me from saying anything in there,” Kristoff admitted, “I don't think I could have said anything useful."

"I read through the law books in the library when I got tired of novels… it's been helpful."

"Do you think they'll make a decision today?"

"Maybe? It's hard to say. Everyone else was nodding… I mean, of course, a lot of them nod in agreement just because they don't feel like arguing, so that doesn't mean much. But that man didn't exactly have the others jumping in agreement with him, and I don't think it was out of politeness."

"You kind of had me worried," Kristoff said, "and I think some of the others really thought you'd have the baby right there…"

"That's probably why the doctor wants me to avoid official duties right now," she laughed nervously, then looked up. "Hey… why haven't you changed out of your suit? I feel really underdressed now."

"I didn't notice… or, well, maybe I did, but I really was worried about you. Would you feel better if I changed?"

"Yes, please…" 

There was a knock at the door. 

"Just a minute!" Kristoff shouted as he kicked his suit to the corner of the room, grabbed his casual clothes and went into the bathroom. 

"It's just me!" Frederick shouted through the closed door.

"Go ahead and come in!" Anna said, hoping she didn't need to shout. Her throat felt dry from her talking during the meeting. 

"Mother?" Frederick asked hesitantly, "Is there something going on? Yesterday I saw one of the council members riding in, and this morning it looked like there was a meeting going on…"

"Oh…" Anna hesitated, "it's probably going to be nothing. What have you heard?"

"Nothing, really, just that they were called in."

"Can we hold off discussing this for a little while? Like I said, it's probably going to be nothing, and your father and I aren't… in the best of moods."

"Um, ok… is it something I did? I didn't mean to leave a tab at the tavern. I promise I'll start bringing money with me."

"Oh. No, no, that's not it, not at all.  Well, I mean,  I don't want you eating all their food and not paying… That is a good idea to bring some money with you. Please do that."

"Aren't your tutors looking for you?" Kristoff asked as he came out of the bathroom. 

"Not yet. It's early, if you haven't noticed."

"Oh, right."

"Inga was going to the library to study, and heard the council in there arguing, and she told me, and that's why I came to ask about that…"

"Oh," said Anna, "I'm surprised Kai didn't think to check with anyone about that."

"Huh, no, the tutors only come there when they can't find Inga."

"Um, well, why don't you go get ready, then…" Kristoff said.

Frederick frowned but quietly left.

"So…" Anna began.

"What did you tell him?"

"I said that it's probably going to be nothing."

"You don't know that."

"Inga was worried about him, and he seemed worried. I don't want to worry him more than necessary unless we need to."

"What did she say?"

"Nothing in particular… It was about that event in Corona… she was saying she'd prefer to have him along if she goes. Maybe he would enjoy a trip."

"I guess he's not that young, either."

[nobodies-png]

I'm very happy you've already done reader playing with the Org XIII:s hair! Let's reverse this to them wanting to touch/play with the reader's hair. Who'll ask for permission, who'll find an excuse, and who will just go for it?

oh this, I love t h i s a lot, nonnie - thank u v much

Xemnas :

Xemnas just goes for it. It happens during one of those rare moments where he can just properly c h i l l with you and walk around the castle - you’d ramble about whatever funny shit you saw Demyx do when s u r p r i s e, you feel the faintest of touches. Xemnas doesn’t even flinch when you turn around, surprised to see his hand still wandering through your locks. B u t he is super amused by your reaction.

His touch is so light and gentle you legit barely notice it. The b i g b o s s is just content with just feeling the soft texture of your locks and your scent, commiting them to memory.

Xigbar :

Xigbar probably uses his powers to sneakily play with your hair, giving you playful light tugs and touches here and there because it’s really fucking funny to see you turn around and look everywhere in confusion. When you manage to catch him and confront him about this, he’ll just shrug and give you some half-assed excuse. But the moment you say “well, you could’ve just a s k e d for permission”, Xigbar’s smile broadens, replying with a “so you’re saying I can? S w e e t.”

Okay, Xigbar is up for just giving you stupid hairdos, whether you have long or short hair. But he’s also down for teasing you as much as possible, like blowing air on your neck when you least expect it.

Xaldin :

Xaldin will try to find a good excuse cause he lowkey wants to try to be more a f f e c t i o n a t e with you without being too straightforward - and he highkey doesn’t want to be seen as a hypocrite, with how protective and reluctant he is about letting others near his hair. So chances are he’ll give you random excuses like “oh wait, you got something in your hair”, trying to be subtle. And it kinda works the first few times, but after the 25th attempt, you’re n o t so sure.

Xaldin’s not used to being gentle, so it’s hard to miss the slight tremble and hesitation in his hand. You end up helping loosening up so he doesn’t treat you like you’re made of glass.

Vexen :

Vexen has no problem asking you for permission, like come on he’s not a teenager in love. He’s curious about your hair so he’ll ask you if he can fiddle with it for a while, easy. But s u r p r i s e, it ain’t so easy. The more he thinks about it, the more he’ll overthink until he gets cold feet. Then he forgets about it. Then he’ll remember and r e p e a t the entire entire process. In the end, Vexen just goes for it so he can’t back off.

At first, he’s sort of rough, inspecting your hair more than playing with it. But as the conversation goes, he’d relax and end up just petting your head instead.

Lexaeus :

Lexaeus has enough braincells to know that he should just fucking ask you like a decent human being. So that’s exactly what he does. No overthinking, no bullshit. And since he’s a man of few words, you listen patiently to his explanation cause it’s rare to hear him talk - He thinks your hair is pretty and wants to play with it, but he understands if he’s overstepping any boundaries and will back off if necessary. Done. Boom. Easy.

You’d think Lexaeus would be afraid of hurting you but n a h b i h, he’s got his strength under control so no worries. You can basically f e e l the happiness radiating off him while he gives you little braids.

Zexion :

Oh Zexion’s c o n f l i c t e d. He wants to ask you directly because that’s the normal thing to do, but he finds that option way too embarrassing. What if you laugh at him ? Social interaction is already hard enough. After asking  Lexaeus and Vexen - who both give very contradicting advice, Zexion would most likely just have the castle Moogle pass you a note, asking you to meet him at the library. And after like, 40 minutes of idle chatter, he’d just awkwardly ask if you’d let him play with your hair.

Tension ease off his shoulders as he starts to relax. Zexion probably starts telling you a lot of stories about him as a kid pulling a lot of pranks on Vexen’s hair along with Isa and Lea.

Saix :

Saix goes for it. He knows the right thing to do is to ask for permission, but it’s just hair so it can’t be that bad if he just fiddled with it for a while, right? It’s not really a big deal for him - but if it’s a big deal for y o u, then he’ll openly explain that he just felt like touching your hair, with the most deadpan voice. Maybe even a smug faint grin. Depending on your reaction, he’ll either drop the subject entirely or properly ask you for permission.

Okay but knowing Saix, you just sort of expect him to be super stiff and cold about this entire thing. But s u r p r i s e, he gives you a ridiculous hairdo, knowing that no one will ever believe you if you tried accusing him.

Axel :

Axel is the type of guy to ask for permission w h i l e he’s doing the thing. His hand is already running gently through your scalp when he asks if he can play with your hair - since you two are close, he doesn’t think he should be so polite and proper around you. He ruffles his friends’ hair affectionately all the time, so you’re no different ! If you complain, he’ll back off but pout and insist for a bit. Like come on, i n d u l g e him.

Soft and gentle touches are reserved for intimate moments, so Axel ends up doing the same thing you’d do with his hair : trying every single possible hairstyle and getting way too invested.

Demyx :

Demyx doesn’t even have to do anything. By the looks he gives you - and specially your hair - while you two hang out, you can pretty much figure out what’s going on around his head. He thinks he’s subtle but s w e e t i e, tapping your chin and humming loudly while staring so openly is quite the o p p o s i t e of being subtle. When he finally makes up his mind to ask you for permission, you cut him off with a “yes, go ahead before we both die of old age”.

Demyx just marvels at the difference between his and your hair, wondering if he should get a similar style to yours. He tries to give you a total makeover and f a i l, resulting in both of you laughing your asses off at the final product.

Luxord :

As another gentleman, Luxord also asks you directly without any problems. He’s not a c a v e m a n like some o t h e r members so he’ll just approach you whenever it seems convenient and after some small talk, just bring the subject up. Maybe even offer another friendly game, like he usually does in legit every single situation lmao. You obvi let him just play with your hair cause it’s way easier than being defeated in some card game for the 342854th time.

It’s not a big deal for him. Luxord likes to just fiddle with your hair whenever you’re close while he reads or does other stuff. He thinks it’s super calming and loves seeing you slowly fall asleep next to him.

Marluxia :

Marluxia finds some excuse to play with your hair whenever he feels like it, mostly under the pretense of wanting to give you even more advice on how to take care of your appearance more. There’s no ill will in his words  though and you gotta admit the man has some g o o d tips. It becomes something so reocurring, he doesn’t even have to say anything - you just simply let him play with your hair. It’s not like he’s doing anything bad, so why not ?

You’d expect some fashion judgement coming from him, but surprisingly, Marluxia is pretty chill. He falls asleep while playing with your hair more often than he’d like to admit.

Larxene :

The thought of asking or coming up with an excuse doesn’t even cross Larxene’s mind, she just goes for it as soon as she realizes she wants to play with your hair. You don’t even have time to complain when she pulls you towards her with her usual sharp look and smirk, telling you to stay still and behave while she just does whatever she wants. And y’know how Larxene is, she can’t resist throwing in some unnecessary comment here and there.

Letting her play with your hair is kind of a game of chance : sometimes she’ll be nice and just relax, sometimes she’ll tug your strands “accidentally” just to get a reaction.

Roxas :

Like Axel, Roxas thinks he shouldn’t have to ask, you two are close after all ! B u t he also doesn’t want to make you mad on accident. He’d give you a lot of excuses, only to run away before doing anything. “Ah, your hair keeps getting in your face - here, let me get that for yo U ACTUALLY, I GOTTA LEAVE RIGHT NOW.” In the end, he’d confess that he was really nervous about this entire thing.

Your depression is instantly cured as soon as you see his expression of amazement, like he’s seeing a new world for the first time. Roxas has the time of his life playing with your hair and just chilling with you.

Xion :

After consulting Axel and Roxas a dozen times - and maybe other members of the organization as well - Xion f i n a l l y musters up the courage to ask you directly. She might stutter and stumble over her words at first, avoiding eye contact, but she’ll get it out eventually. Usually, she has no problem asking you stuff, but Xion kind of thinks this request might be odd and just really childish.

She’ll just kinda fiddle around, gasping and muttering under her breath like “oohh” and “ahhh”. But after testing the waters, Xion would try her best to give you a super fancy hairstyle. 

[pionoplayer]

I'm signal boosting this to the like, maybe one or two people who wouldn't see it otherwise because this is an important message.

As someone who is pretty desperately unable to see myself reaching 30 (even if 25 seems reasonable) the world is going to go on. People make jokes about cockroaches being the most resilient and hard to kill things on Earth but actually it's humans. It's been true before and it's been true now. Nothing short of the planet being completely scorched clean by sunfire (and last I checked we can't actually cause a gamma ray burst ourselves) is going to kill us off, and however uncertain the future is we still need to find ways that we can chip towards making the future better.

I'm sick. I'm sick in a way that's not going to get better, especially if my deadline turns out to be America's seemingly impending societal collapse and not my health finally failing for good. I can't attend rallies, I can't write letters, and I can't go out and find meaningful charity work. All of it is beyond me emotionally, mentally, and physically.

But there's still things I can do, even if they're so much smaller than what others have access to and what I think I should be able to do.

There is a story, one I was told a lot when I was younger when I first got into trying to figure out the larger world beyond the neighborhoods I lived and went to school in. I'm sure others have heard it but it goes something like...

"One night, in a town by the sea, there was a terrible, terrible storm. The people were okay, as they did not have houses built down by the sea, but when they came out the next morning the beaches were covered in starfish. Starfish that had been pulled up by the roiling waves and tossed out onto the beach, out of the water they need to breath, where they would suffocate and drown. One man, an old fisherman, came down to the beach to find a young man, a teenager no more than 14 years old, picking up starfish and throwing them back into the water, where they would hopefully be okay. The fisherman watched this for a while, and puzzled at this behavior, walked up to the teenager. 'Why are you doing this? You do realize that you can't save all of them. Even if you were out here all day you couldn't save even a tenth of these starfish. It's not going to matter.' The teenager looked at the old fisherman, then leaned down and picked up another starfish, that he gently tossed back into the safety of the sea beyond. 'It mattered to that one.'"

And that's where we are. The goofy things I write, important messages I try to signal boost, the times I try to be there for people who just need someone to talk to. I don't think all of those are going to matter. Ten years from now, whether I'm dead and gone already or whether I'm still hanging on and wondering what I'm going to do next, they probably won't matter.

But then that's me. Maybe it will matter to someone else. Maybe 10 years down the line someone will still be around because a silly 1 page story I wrote made them smile when they were drowning in mental illness. Maybe one of those messages will reach someone they wouldn't have before, and they take that knowledge and share it with others. Maybe one day, when the internet is down and we're living through what we currently think will be the worst generation to live through in current memory, some small thing I said will help someone make the right decision.

I won't know. I'm never going to know. I won't know if it will do more than make a dark time just a little brighter for other people, or if five years down the line it will have saved someone's life. But if I do it enough, then it will matter. To one person, or ten, or more.

And to everyone else, the same is true for you. You aren't going to change the world on your own. And maybe you can't do all the things that are traditionally part of what will change things, but everything you do to make it better will add up with what everyone else does. Be kind when someone is having a bad day, hold your temper when you're about to say something destructive, make something nice or useful for a neighbor who is struggling.

The world is more than just the broken systems we see in the news. The important thing is us, if you don't think you can help save the world... maybe you can save a starfish. Maybe nobody looking at the news and the economy and the political climate will think what you did mattered.

But it mattered to the people you helped.

most damaging idea of the 21st century: the conviction of vast numbers of people that human history will end within our lifetimes

climate change represents world-altering tragedy if unchecked, but not even in the worst-case scenario does it mean “literally everyone dies”

yet so many people have jumped already to “it’s over, the world is going to end, we can do nothing about it” and are just paralyzingly cynical. How do I explain that the power to imagine a future is essential for creating it

[alexiela73]

Hi, I'm kinda new here so idk if you've gotten this kind of request for hc/short fic before but here goes nothin I guess. How do you think junkrat/roadhog, mccree, hanzo, and gabriel help out a disabled/chronically ill s/o on a bad flare day? (Btw I've been reading what you write and I really enjoy it :) ..)

I have not gotten one specifically for this yet. I hope these are okay. And thank you! XD While i like writing for myself, I find more satisfaction in writing for others, so I’m glad you enjoy what I’ve posted

Junkrat:

Is aware you have diabetes

One day he comes over for the day to hang out

The two of you were going to go out and go to the junkyard in search for scrap parts for his next big invention

Except when he gets to your room, he finds you sitting at the table with your head in your hands

Immediately concerned, the junker drops the dirty sack meant for the parts on the floor by the door and hobbles over 

“Ye okay, darl’? Ye look a bit pale,” Junkrat says, noticing your pale complexion and the way your eyes seemed a bit distant. Carefully he kneeled on his peg leg, watching you with concern

Giving him a tired smile, you noted his face was dirtier then usual and reached up to gently wipe at his face with a napkin from the table

“Your so dirty,” you whisper, sighing heavily and feeling bad.

Catching your hand, Junkrat presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist, before pausing.

“Have ye taken yer blood thingy with the needle jabber ye have?” Junkrat asked, looking at you with concern now. He’d seen you with low blood sugars but obviously it was a bit worse then usual.

Giving an exhausted nod, you brush your finger tips across his cheek. “I’m sorry, Jamie. I just don’t have the energy to go to the scrap yard today. I feel like I might topple over, honestly,” you said apologetically, hoping he wouldn’t be too disappointed.

Shaking his head, Junkrat stood and straightened his back, showing his true height as he towered over you. Then he leaned and scooped you up, causing you to squeak. Despite having a wiry thin frame, the man was well built and seemed to have endless energy and strength, you once noticed.

“Don’t mind me, darl’,” Junkrat said, plopping you down on the couch. He got your fuzzy slippers for you, before rummaging through the cupboards and fridge. He brought back a can of pop and a bag of chocolate covered pretzels for you, before sitting beside you.

 “Here. Movie day is just as good, as long as it be with me best girl,” he said with a goofy grin.

The look of adoration you gave him made today all the worth it. “Thank you,” you said gently, before snuggling to him for the day as he worked on raising your blood pressure with you and letting you relax to get your strength back

McCree

The two of you were out for the day 

Despite having heart disease, the two of you ended up buying a ranch half a year ago

The place is a lot of work but usually your good about not working on your bad days and being honest about them

Today you weren’t. The two of you were going to go for a ride through the meadows and have a nice lunch out. Wanting to very badly, you didn’t tell Jesse about how your chest had been hurting since you woke up.

When you found yourself a bit short of breath during the start of the ride, Jesse noticed. You insisted you were fine and that your horse’s speed was a bit rough today

Jesse didn’t believe it. Butterfly rode like a dream. 

The two of you were almost getting to the spot when suddenly, the pain in your chest intensified. Pressing a hand to your chest, you gasped for air and felt blackness at the corners of your vision.

“Y/n!” Jesse gasped, turning his horse around and hurrying over just as you fainted. You were lucky, he caught you from falling off the horse just in time.

When you woke up, the pain was a dull ache in your chest. You were laying on the couch in your living room, and you blinked hazily as you struggled to remember exactly what had happened last.

Jesse sat on the edge of the coffee table, holding your hand and looking to be both angry and relieved.

“Jesse-” you croaked but he cut you off.

“You can’t do that, y/n. We agreed when we got the ranch that you would take it easy. You should have told me you weren’t feeling good,” Jesse said, clutching your hand desperately. He had been so worried, and you know it scared him, the thought of anything happening to you.

A slow smile tugged and your lips, and when he saw it he rubbed his eyes. “Why are you smiling?” he growled, but was silenced when you reached up to caress his cheek.

“Your right. I’m sorry, Jesse. I just…I’m so grateful to have someone who cares so much,” you say softly, the look on your face serene as you squeeze his hand. For a moment he just looks at you, as if considering whether or not to let you off the hook. 

Finally he rests his forehead on your shoulder and lets out a long sigh.

“I love you, stupid,” he mumbles, before pressing a kiss just before your ear.

Letting out a soft chuckle, you relax.

“I love you too, you goofball,” you murmur.

Hanzo

Today Hanzo had woken and noticed that you had been a bit difficult to wake up

When you did, you had been really tired. It didn’t take you long to realize your lupus was acting up but you refused to admit it

Touching your forehead, Hanzo had immediately noticed the hot fever plaguing you as you attempted to insist that you would be fine

Your joints were really aching this morning, and Hanzo could tell by the way you winced whenever you moved.

Hanzo ended up sentencing you to bedrest for the remainder of the day, even though it was the day of one of japans biggest festivals

You had been so excited to go…it broke your heart that you would have to miss it, but you knew as well that you couldn’t go out in your condition.

You tried to tell Hanzo to go, but he just gave you a look that left no room for arguements. Instead, Hanzo put himself to work making food for you while you laid curled up in bed

Hanzo always stayed home when you weren’t feeling good.

Around lunch time, Hanzo walked in with a tray. There was homemade stew for you, as well as freshly made juice and biscuits.

You couldn’t help the soft smile that touched your lips. Hanzo always took excellent care of you, going above and beyond to ensure that you would at least be happy while you were recovering. 

“Thank you,” you murmur as you take the tray, watching as he carefully sat beside you. “How lucky I am, to have such a beautiful nurse,” you tease gently.

A smile tugged at his lips. “You really are, aren’t you,” he says quietly, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your hair.

Watching you while you ate, you noticed Hanzo looked a little more lost in thought then usual, more troubled. Usually he went to meditate when he was troubled, but instead he sat there, tracing circles on your knee as he thought.

“Are you okay?” you murmur, before taking another bite full of food.

Blinking, after a moment Hanzo gives you the barest smile. “Nothing to worry about,” he says softly. “I just…get quite worried over you. I am afraid of there ever coming a day where I might have to wake up without you at my side…” 

Stunned, you put down your almost empty bowl of soup to stare at him, realizing what he was worrying over.

“Hanzo Shimada! I am not dying now, nor any time soon. I’ll be damned if if we don’t grow old together!” you said determinedly, wishing he could try and be as sure of it as you were. You’d fight tooth and nail to live as long a life you could with this man you loved.

Eyes meeting yours, Hanzo hesitated before a real smile touched his features. “You are right. You are a fighter,” Hanzo murmurs softly, watching you with adoration evident in his eyes. “It will be okay. You’ve never been wrong before.”

With a laugh, you playfully punched his shoulder. “As if,” you murmur, before returning to finish your delicious soup.

Gabe:

It has been two days since you two have spoken

The last time you two had been together, your heart disease had acted up unexpectedly when the two of you had been out shopping. You’d blacked out in public, and when you woke up he’d taken you to the doctors to have a check up, worried for you

This has happened a couple times this year, or at least situations that were similar

Gabe didn’t like to be avoided, so he decided the best thing to do was to come to you. 

Marching up the front steps of your house, he walked in without knocking. Immediately he went upstairs to try and find you, only to see that you were curled up in your bed with your back to the door

For a moment, Gabe contemplated leaving, wondering if maybe you were just sleeping. Then he realized that you were shaking lightly, and slowly he walked over.

“Y/n..” he said softly, reach down and rubbing your back gently. At your touch, you let out the barest sob. It broke his heart.

“Move over,” Gabe urged gently, and you moved over. Crawling into the bed, he snuck himself under the covers before spooning you and burying his face in your long hair.

Silence ensued for a few minutes as he just held you, fingers rubbing soothing circles into your arms as he cradled you against his body. He didn’t want to pressure you to talk, especially when you were upset.

Finally though, you spoke. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, rubbing at your eyes. There was once more a dull ache in your chest. The pain had been evident since the last time you’d seen him.

“Don’t be, baby,” Gabe said softly. “I was just really worried, is all. I just…tell me what’s wrong, baby. Please. Tell me what I can do to make it better.”

At his words, another sob engulfed you. How long would he say that, you wondered? How long before he tired of your episodes too?

“Make it stop,” you whimpered. “Make it go away, Gabe. I’m…I’m so tired…I’m just so tired of it. I can’t do this anymore. I never know when its going to be a good or bad day and I’m so sick of it. I’m just holding you back from having a normal relationship…”

Honestly, you had depression too. This disease was eating at you alive, not just your heart but it was ruining life for you. You felt like it was impossible to enjoy yourself knowing you had this illness.

Gabe would be better off with another girl, you thought, who didn’t faint in public and gasp like a goldfish out of water..

Turning you around, Gabe stared hard into your eyes. “I don’t want to hear that nonsense, y/n. I love you,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “I love YOU. You aren’t holding me back. You are who I want to be with. None of this can stop me from wanting you. So unless your trying to get rid of me, stop thinking such nonsense and just tell me you love me.”

You couldn’t help the tiny smile that pulled at the corner of your mouth when he got pushy. It was a little cute. You had trouble believing it though. How could he…

“Y/N,” he said seriously when you hesitated. “I will never leave you. I promise you.”

You stared back into his eyes, hesitating, wanting to believe him so badly. Gabe didn’t tell fables, you reminded yourself. You couldn’t get better if you continued focusing on all the bad stuff…the voice in your head strangely reminded you of things Gabe had said to you many times over.

Hesitating once more, you hugged him tightly. 

“I love you,” you whispered, sniffling and you couldn’t help being grateful for the gift that was Gabriel in your life.

[hottmessexpresss]

Fever.

Back problems.

These mothafuckin'Kids.

Three days ago, my son woke up sick. He had this look* on his face. An unsettled look. He looked me dead in the eyes, and he started to gag. My eyes widened with horror. My instincts kicked in, and I did what my dad would do when I was growing up. The only sure way to know you have reached another level of parenting: held out my hands cupped together held under his chin. A vomit catch-all, if you will. Maybe it's a kid instict too. He knew* what it meant and what to do. He played and was fine throughout the day. Thank god.

The NEXT day, I developed a decent fever. I felt like my body was ran over by an 18 wheeler. "Greaaaaaaaaaaat!" I thought to myself. I laid on the couch half dead in a pool of my own sweat staring at the clock. Is 7:00 too early for bedtime? My daughter ended up puking ONCE that evening, so i figured it was a 24 hour tummy bug. No other symptoms. No more vomit. Both kids seemed fine. I prayed that I would not fall ill, and that I**wouldn't be sick. Could you imagine? Being sick AND being the mom? Being the house chore manager? Being the post-op surgery home nurse? What the hell would that* be like? Well, my dad has always told me, God must have a sense of humor based on my life being like an episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm....and it was a god awful sense of humor, if that.

Yesterday, I was swiffer wet jetting a pool of urine on the floor. I shook my head, did my usual lecture on how only an animal would pee on the floor. How grayson wasn't an animal, and how pee goes INSIDE of the toilet. Not inside his construction cement truck (boys🙄😬). I bent over, and my life flashed before my eyes. BAM. I almost collapsed to the floor. I was sweating and writhing in pain. I couldn't muster up ENOUGH inertia to walk my body forward. My knees started to buckle, and immediate panic set in. Of all times for this to happen, with my luck-- it did (cue Curb Your Enthusiasm theme song). I am damn near 30 years old, and a Swiffer wet jet mop, along with a slight twist and bend movement, put me to the fuckin' floor. Meanwhile, J-Lo who is in her 50's is pole dancing and dancing at a top performance rate for a Superbowl half-time show. And again, here I am, in the same clothes as yesterday, my body getting over a fever, AND NOW pulled my back out of place. I was angry and upset that I have disabled myself.

Of course, Grayson and the baby caught wind of my sudden lack of movement and chaos ensued. Both hanging on my feet, whining and crying and fighting each other to be held. Every second ticked by slowly, as I completely winced and cursed in pain. I huddle by the cat tree. I try to stand and lean onto it and realized..I needed help. But who could help? How?

My husband was at work. Barely 2 weeks post-op from his shoulder replacement. I broke down in tears. My husband has just now been able to shower by himself. He's still in a sling and has very limited movement. What the hell am I going to do? With different parts of our bodies being out of commission, how* could we do this? I reluctantly called him. In tears, I waited 45 minutes before he got to the house. Before he arrived, with a little help from my Grayson, I was able to dress the baby. Grayson picked his clothes out, and got ready all by himself (I was shook). I waddle slowly to my bedroom and grab some socks and my Nike's. Grayson hauled ass into my room like always (because there isba child lock and it's forbidden) kneeled down and helped me put on my socks and shoes. I told him my back was hurting and he told me, "Don't worry mom. I'll fix it!" He lifted my shirt gently, and started to scratch my lower back. The tears were welling up. He got the baby clothes from her drawer (after one attempt), and sang "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" to her as I changed her. I was overwhelmed with many emotions. I was in that moment, proud of Will and I's parenting and how my sweet and sour child, was being sweet and helpful to me.

Will arrives. He's stressed. I'm stressed. I keep apologizing over and over to him. I shove fruit snacks in my jacket. Will raises his voice at me to stop trying to put Grayson into his car seat. We are both frustrated. We are both not feeling it. I get to urgent care and wait for the doctor. He comes in after 10 minutes and says, "Oh? Are you striking a pose for a photo?" My hip is out and I'm leaning against the wall. I laughed. I explained what happened. He felt my hips and lower back. "Oh. Wow......you have HUGE knots all over the place...no wonder!" I held back tears. Then. This man turns to me and has THEE AUDACITY TO ASK ME** "Do you need a doctor's note for work?" I cracked a smile, but also wanted to strangle him right then and there. I explained my husband is two weeks post-op from shoulder replacement surgery, and that I have a 10 month old and a 3 year old at home, and all three are waiting in the car for me. He smiled and said, "I'd reccomend taking it easy, but that's not realistic is it?" He gave me a toradol shot, steroids for the inflammed muscles, muscle relaxers and T3. My anxiety sky-rocketed. I knew how Toradol made me tired. I knew how muscle relaxers obviously*** relax your muscles. T3 makes me groggy. How the fuck am I supposed to function on these AND take care of the kids?

So long gone are the days of being injured or sick and being able to sleep or "relax". So long gone are the days when no one else depended on you to be a fully functional adult during times of illness or injury.

My husband told me to go nap and relax my back. Though I was irriated by having to listen, and fight back the internal urge to pick up the toys on the ground, I obliged. Thinking back to a few months ago, my husband's sciatic caused him to be down and out from work for three days. I sat up in bed thinking of this. No offense to my husband; he works extremely hard and allows me the luxury of staying home with the kids. However, in this moment, I realized I wasn't able to experience the same "luxury" of taking three days off. Being a stay at home mom means, no days off. When youre sick, the world doesn't stop. Your toddlers certainly don't stop. So you, as the mom and house-manager, trudge through it. Because there is no other option or reason. Some are lucky to have family nearby that can cushion some of this blow. But unfortunately, that's not the case here. Instead, I facetimed my mom and cried to her, asking her to tell Grayson to be good for me. It worked (for a while).

I hate sometimes that these types of "problems" often come across as "complaining," but to me, just shows that a Mother's job never ends. We don't get to clock in, and clock out. We don't get paid lunch breaks. Often times I eat standing up, and pee with a rather curious audience (like when Grayson handed me toilet paper and told me to wipe my gina and did a horrendous digging motion with his hands). I don't get uninterrupted breaks. I don't physically see a paycheck deposited into my account.

This morning I woke up and before I got out of bed, I said a little prayer about being able to walk today. Thankfully, I can walk (at least). I made coffee, and waited for the monsters to wake up. I cooked them eggs and toast. I bribed grayson with a fruit snack to help get his sisters walker, and I slowly slowly lifted her in it. Getting her in and out of the crib has been a challenge. Babies want to be held and carried, and do not understand why* their mother isn't picking them up (torture).

I am realizing women are strong. Though I physically feel decrepid, I am appreciative of what women endure on a daily basis. Whether you work or stay home, being a mother is a 24/7 job that often goes without praise or recognition. Instead of binge watching Mad Men, or The Office (for the 56th time) posted up chillin' on meds, I am watching Paw Patrol while my kids nag and cry at my feet. "You should be THANKFUL. YOU HAVE THE BEST JOB IN THE ENTIRE WORLD....and an IMPORTANT ONE IF THAT." Well, Karen. Yes. Yes I do. I am "blessed" and "cursed" by this experience. I am** thankful. However, I am a human being. I am allowed to scowl and huff to myself, "this isn't fair!" While wanting to break down into tears. How dare I feel so selfish?

I am allowed to have bad days. Being a mom doesn't mean I am some bionic robot (though some days it definitely feels like it)

So here I am standing, slouched over the counter trying to rub a tennis ball into my lower back while my toddler screams, "THAT'S MY BAAAAAALLLLLLL MOM." All while my daughter also starts to scream (because her brother is screaming) I can't do anything but count to 10.

"Being a mom means having to choose between eating, showering, or sleeping. You can't do all three in one day" -unknown

Hug a mom, grandma or aunt today [or anyone that has raised you] and give yourself a pat on the back for being a bad ass super mom.

[bitchfitch]

Prince Art Fight resource

currently Prince mostly exists as concept art and half finished 3d models >> so this is all i really have for him. on the images front

the following is an excerpt from a no longer canon/ old draft that gets his vibes across fairly well:

Lowell rounded the corner, and saw nothing in the dark alley way beyond.

No masked man, no trash cans, or crates, just a bare alley. That in of itself was suspicious. Why would the alley have been cleared out like this? Lowell's hand strayed to grip of his pistol, his blood was thundering in his ears as the sounds of the nearly empty street behind him melded with the soft grited sound of his footsteps.

A shape stepped from the darkness as a light turned on, back lighting them and blinding Lowell. The prince giggled as he stepped forward, but the sound was wrong, the footsteps were coming from behind him, not in front of him.

He turned, drawing his gun in the instant it took him to react.

Lowell sucked in a breath as he saw the barrel of his weapon land less than an inch from the smooth plastic of The Prince's mask. Lowell's hand shook, as the prince bowed his head to lightly tap the front of his mask against the barrel.

The light bonk of metal on plastic would have been comedic if not for the dread running through Lowell's veins.

"Hello, Cailean Lowell," his voice was softer than Lowell had expected it to be, and he pronounced Lowell's name correctly without having to be coached, "It's nice to meet you finally, I heard you've been looking for me?"

Lowell lowers his gun. His finger had been on the trigger, one twitch and he would have been no better than his coworkers.

He speaks without thinking, "Are you The Prince, or is your name just Prince?" he momentarily considers turning the gun on himself.

The masked man cocks his head, the huff that rattles through the modulator sounds just slightly amused, "It's just Prince, i don't know where the 'The' came from, but it felt to late to start correcting people,"

Lowell nodded lamely. He had a few scripts he used when speaking to new people. Rules of engagement and guides to keep him from looking as socially incompetent as he often was. He had absolutely no idea to which to use with Prince.

"Hm, does the cat have your tongue Hound Dog? If its if your earlier remark was not what you wanted it to be. just know that it's going to be nice to work with someone who actually knows my name," he put his hands in the pokets of his jacket and rocked back on the edge of his heels, looking as at peace and confident as could be,

"Sorry, I'm just not exactly sure what to do in this sort of situation," he finally thought to reholster his weapon, and did so hurriedly and awkwardly.

"Well then just let me be your guide. Let's start over, ok?" he stuck out his hand "It's nice to meet you Detective, I'm Prince,"

Cailean smiled nervously as he took the smaller hand in his, shaking it as he said "Hello, I'm Cailean Lowell, its… This has been a long time coming hasn't it?"

Prince huffs again as he takes his hand back, Lowell can tell it's almost an laugh. He wonders why Prince doesn't laugh fully.

"It has been, Now come inside we have a lot to talk about,"

---

La Lunch was usually a very hipster establishment, with reclaimed wood nailed artfully to the wallsvand those uncomfortable metal chairs, edison bulbs on low hanging cords, Lowell actually appreciated those, on cold winter mornings the heat they emitted was a godsend.

But, that's not what La Lunch was today.

All but one table had been pushed along the walls with their chairs stacked neatly on top of them. Rich red and gold fabric was draped artfully over the legs of the chairs, making them look something between a palace decoration and a circus tent.

the sole table with two chairs in the center had small battery operated tea lights scattered across the center with two place settings.

Lowell marveled for a moment at the set up, and everything else about this encounter so far, it was all so… Funny. Like a joke or a harmless prank was playing out around him, and not like he was sitting down with a man wanted in connection to multiple murders, disappearances, and robberies. His nerves were prickling at the back of his mind but he was still comfortable in this situation.

He took his seat as Prince disappeared into the kitchen for a moment. When he returned a moment later he was carrying a plate with a slightly burnt steak and some undercooked veggies.

"I have never once claimed cooking as a strong suit, but i hope this will do," he chirps as he sets it down in front of Lowell,

Lowell bit his tongue before he could offer to tutor him, "Why are you doing this?" He reminded himself to be suspicious, Prince worked on misdirection and and subtle tricks, Lowell absolutely should not trust any food he made

"You know what they say," Prince sighed as he took his seat across from Lowell, "The fastest way to a mans heart is between the fourth and fifth rib, but a close second is through the stomach," he gestured with one hand as he leaned his chin on the palm of the other.

"Ah," Lowell regarded him cautiously, he had to pick his next words carefully, "Should i take that to mean you wont be letting me leave alive?"

Prince froze, "Yeah, i worded that badly. You can leave at any point, and i promise the food isn't intentionally poisoned. I don't intend to hurt you,"

"Intentionally poisoned?"

"Like i said, I'm not a good cook," he huffed that non laugh.

Lowell couldnt help but smile a little. Maybe it was Prince's small size that just made him cute? Or was it the way he over emphasized all his motions to make his body language reflect what a facial expression normally would? The soft voice and easy charm probably played a part in it.

"Prince, why did you ask me hear? You know im looking to arrest you, right?" He hesitated for a second before pulling his handcuffs from his pocket and setting them on the table,

Prince froze as soon as the cuffs came into view, he turned stiff and his tone carried barely contained nerves, a near 180 from a moment ago. "Yes, but you haven't yet. And i know i intrigue you," he took a moment to force himself to take a breath, Lowell hadnt been prone to panic attacks in many years but he still recognized the symptoms, "I can help you, and I think we could work well together,"

Lowell had never heard of Prince having such dramatic reactions, or even having any fears. he briefly considered putting the cuffs away, but he needed to know more, and it seemed they gave him a modicum of power in this situation, "What could you need from me?" he tried to pretend he didn't notice the change

"Smart muscle," he replied his voice back to being that cool neutral but his posture still tense and nervous, "You were very close to finding me on your own, not many could say that detective. I would like that sort of analytic mind on my side." he crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, still trying to present calm confidence, "And you're big."

"Should I take offense to that?" Lowell cracks a smile, guilt is starting to eat at him, Prince hadn't flinched at a gun in his face but a pair of handcuffs has him this scared. What was going on in his head? Why was it the cuffs that got him?

"No, Its actually a very nice trait. A few of my… roudier clients have started to key into the fact that I'm not very big, and i make a point of being unarmed." he cocks his head "I don't particularly like it when people try to push me around. Having a fellow your size at my back would probably get them to settle down,"

Lowell nods, he isn't really considering it is he? Is it the guilt? "I… will consider it." Prince perks up a little, "But, I want answers first."

Prince slowly taps one of his claws against his mask's chin, Lowell had wondered what they were made of but the sharp metallic sound answered his question, "how about this? you can ask me as many questions as you like, and while I may not answer all of them, i will always tell you the truth when i do. Does that work?"

"Only if you give me a reason for not answering."

"Fine, i will not be specific if i dont want to," he holds out his hand, "Deal?"

Lowell shakes it with a nod. "Why are you scared of handcuffs?" its a quick and easy question to start off with.

"You'll most likely be finding out latter tonight whether i want you to or not, until then I'm passing on this one, i dont want to get into it right now," he settles back into his seat, "But, now that youve told me you know i dont like them. Put them away." his tone turned sharp enough to nick Lowell's confidence.

"Of course, sorry," he quickly shooves them back in his pocket, "Sorry, What do you mean ill be finding out later tonight?"

"This is an interview, and before anything becomes official id like to take you on a little practical test."