#so i am rotating my comfort beans

[rexisan]

I am seeing.. a pattern in my two newest ship hyperfixations.

I really enjoy an unhealthy amount of possessiveness. One taking to their knees and saying "I am yours. My heart in your hands. You can slit my throat and I will worship as my blood stains your boots."

And the response. "I have hurt you so terribly and yet still you look at me and willingly put the heart I've crushed in my hands like I am worth it. I will do everything in my power even rend cities if it means you're unhurt."

And I'm here rotating Jaytim and Dreamling and just. Mkay. This is fine.

[calamityblog]

I missed your posts, Sasha. I follow this blog for all three of you, even though I understand that you were sick and that  you don't like social media that much. I'm glad that you're posting again. What's your workout routine?

Hey, thank you for sending this. It means a lot to know someone's interested in seeing my posts. Marcy always says good things about you, so it's good to know you live up to that.

I don't want to share my exact routine since I've been training strength for about ten years and doing different sports for most of my life, so I don't want anyone trying to push themselves to do what I do. It's important to slowly work up to more intense activity or you could seriously injure yourself. Working out also involves a lot more than just being at the gym. It's about building healthy habits for all areas of your life including eating and sleeping. When you do more physical activity, your body should begin to crave these positive changes naturally but it's important to stay on top of things.

This is a rough overview of what I do in a day with some advice for how to train if you want to build strength.

I train for around an hour and a half almost every day before I go into work. I'll eat something small in the early morning like a protein bar or shake before going to the gym with a more substantial breakfast afterwards that could include eggs, yogurt, beans, vegetables, etc.

It's important to train different muscle groups each day so I rotate between leg, arm, core, back, and full body workouts. I recommend looking up beginner exercises if you're just starting out. You don't want to immediately jump into heavy deadlifts just because it looks impressive. If you don't have a training partner or coach, you should also look up what the proper form and technique looks like for each exercise you do. YouTube videos are the most helpful to get a visual representation.

These are a few exercises that I do for each area: Legs: Deadlifts, squats, leg extensions, leg presses Arms: Pushups, chin-ups, bicep curls, front raises Core: Planks, crunches, Russian twists, in and outs, bridges Back: Lateral pulldowns, rows, pull-ups

You want to find the number of sets and reps that work best for your body for each exercise and make sure to rest both between sets and between different exercises. A rep is one action, like a bicep curl. A set is the number of those that you do in a row. For example, if you were doing 3 sets of 10 reps of an exercise, you'd do 10 exercises in a row, rest for about 3 minutes, then repeat that twice more. You should feel like you're pushing yourself slightly past what's comfortable. Adequate rest is crucial because otherwise you'll start to tire yourself out and risk doing exercises improperly which can lead to injury.

After working out, I listen to my body throughout the day and eat when I'm hungry, focusing on protein-rich and healthy foods. If I'm craving something sweet, for example, I'll usually reach for Greek yogurt over a cookie. I find that I crave unhealthy foods less than I used to but there's nothing wrong with treating yourself occasionally. Depriving yourself of things that bring you joy can really damage your psyche and make you less motivated. I hate when people use the word “cheat day” for eating foods they enjoy. There is no cheating in balancing your diet.

If I'm feeling very fired up or stressed, I might go to the gym after work for a half hour or so to do some cardio work. Anne usually cooks dinner and she helps with including lean meats, fish, beans, whole grains and rice, and plenty of vegetables as much as possible. I sleep from about 9:30 PM to 5:30 AM to wake up feeling refreshed and ready for another day.

Since I'm very experienced, I work out five days a week, but if you're new to strength training I recommend starting with three days a week and working your way up to four. Taking rest days is extremely important. I take mine on Wednesdays and Saturdays. I might do some light exercise on those days like playing tennis or racquetball with Anne, but I also take those days to actually rest and recover. It might seem like training every day will make you stronger, but your muscles actually strengthen more during rest days. It sounds disgusting, but strength training creates small tears in the muscles you're working. Resting allows those tears to repair themselves and that's how your muscles grow stronger and increase in size.

I also recommend mixing in exercise that you personally enjoy doing. Training is repetitive by nature and it can get boring. Some days, I don't go to the gym at all. I've gotten into surfing, and I practice sword fighting with Anne even though it's an impractical skill here. This kind of exercise lets me see the rewards of my training and it's also just fun for me.

Even if you were just asking for curiosity's sake, I hope this advice is helpful. Taking even a small first step towards better fitness can make a huge difference for your quality of life in all areas. I'd be happy to talk about this more anytime.

-Sasha

[clumsyenby]

Good Boy - Glamrock Freddy x Reader

i'm currently working on requests, so enjoy this short one-shot while you wait! next post will be on the weekend ^u^

here are the rules for requesting and my AO3 collection of all my FNAF imagines!

TW: none

just Freddy being an innocent bean hehe adult, gender-neutral reader! 1173 words

- being with your animatronic boyfriend is definitely quite the experience; he's always curious about what your life is like outside the Pizzaplex. choosing to show him everything from photos and memories on your phone, he stumbles upon a video of you praising your pet. jealous, he asks you whether you thought the same of him. <3

"Good boy, Felix!" Your voice comes through the speaker of your phone. Your phone looks incredibly tiny in Freddy's large hands. It was adorable. You watched as his eyes light up in curiosity from the short video clip of you praising your pet for performing a trick. Like a grandpa, Freddy uses his finger from his other hand to tap the replay button on the screen. The video repeats, your giggle at the end of the clip coming through the speakers again. He chuckles.

"Sweetheart, is there a chance you can raise the volume of this video?" He asks. Your heart flutters at the sweet nickname. You nodded and showed him the sound button at the side of your phone, raising an eyebrow skeptically as he follows your instructions. He replays the video once more, your recorded voice now loud and clear. It filled up the atmosphere of his room. "I love hearing your laugh," Freddy blurts after the video ends.

You felt the familiar heat on your cheeks. Despite being with Freddy for almost a year, he never fails to bring back the butterflies. He brings it with the simplest compliment and even with the smallest smile directed towards you. He was such a gentleman, and one that was full of love. Never once you had thought animatronics; robots made out of metal and programming were capable of feeling such a complex thing. But Freddy alone stood as proof that animatronics were capable of being sentient, and were just as worthy of love as humans.

You thanked him for the compliment bashfully, looking down on the floor to avoid his gaze. He knew that you were embarrassed, and he took pride in making you flattered at every chance he got. He calls your name, connecting gazes with you. You watched as his ears rotated in its place in anticipation, something he only did when thinking of something. Just as you were about to ask about his thoughts, he cuts you off.

"Superstar, am I a good boy?"

You choked on air from his question, heaving in deep breaths as Freddy rushes to pat your back. He starts to blabber about how he is worried for your health, that he should bring you to the First-Aid Station, that perhaps he should ask Vanessa if you could stay overnight so that he could monitor you. You waved a hand and leaned on him, feeling your breath recover. "It's fine, baby. I was just.. Surprised at your question." You replied.

Freddy looks at you unconvincingly. You could practically see the gears in his head turning as he tries to come up with an appropriate answer. He finally chooses to let it go after a moment, snaking a hand around your waist and leans his head on top of yours. "If you say so, but please tell me if you're still feeling unwell. I will rush to the First-Aid Station to get you medication.." He says softly, knowing that the station only offered disinfectant and band-aids. What could Freddy even get at said station for a wheezing attack?

You patted his chest plate reassuringly. "I'm fine, big guy. Thank you for always worrying about me,"

He purrs from the physical contact, the cooling fans underneath his metal casing whirring to life. The sound disturbed you at first, causing you to worry if Freddy was malfunctioning; but it was nothing but a comforting sound to you now. "I'll always be worrying about you, sweetheart. I do adore you," Freddy replies as he nuzzles your face.

You giggled from his sudden shower of affection and wrapped your arms around him, pulling him in for a hug. As you embraced, you had the daring idea to answer his question.

"Yes." You whisper into his ear. Freddy lets out a questioning sound, pulling back to look at you with a confused expression. "Yes, what?" He asks.

You could not help but laugh, your animatronic boyfriend was incredibly innocent. He always meant well, always was gentlemanly but was oblivious for the life of him. You remembered when you had to confess your feelings to the bear first, just because he could not pick up any of your attempts at flirting with him.

"Yes, Freddy. You're a good boy, the best boy." You finally said.

Freddy froze, his eyes suddenly going blank and steam escaping through the holes of where his ears were attached to his head. Your smile dropped, scrambling to shake your boyfriend. "Freddy? Freddy!?" You called in a panic. What was wrong with him? Was he malfunctioning? Should you call in Vanessa?

Upon hearing you call his name, the baby blue shade in his eyes returned. You felt his fingers wiggle, shifting to hold you a little tighter than before. When he finally came to, he looked away awkwardly. "My deepest apologies, my love.. It seems that I might have.. Overheated.." He trailed off.

You patted his face, checking to make sure he was physically okay before laughing at him. "Seriously? You overheated over me calling you that?" You teased. His ears wiggled as he joined in your laugh. "Can you blame me? I felt so happy upon hearing you say that,"

Oh, what the hell?

In a blink, his irises were suddenly hearts; red hearts, matching the red spikey shoulder plates he wore for performances. You grabbed at his face and pulled him closer, feeling yourself getting lost in his heart eyes (literally). "Your eyes are hearts," You whispered. Freddy hums, "Is that so? Must have been because of how much I love you." As you smash your lips onto his own, he laughs in content and pulls you closer.

BONUS:

"Freddy, stop trying to get me to call you that every time you do something for me!"

"But sweetheart please.. I really love it when you call me that," He protests with a pout. You huffed jokingly, and reached up to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Maybe we can reserve that for more.. Private times?" You asked. Freddy had heart eyes again. This time, they were the shade of a baby-doll pink. He nods quickly, "Yes, yes! As long as you say it,"

Oh dear, what had you gotten yourself into? Your boyfriend now has a praise kink because of you. That was more than okay though - You knew he deserved all of the praise, especially for always taking care of you.

"Oh also, please stop being jealous of Felix." You teased lightly. Freddy huffs this time, with an even bigger pout. "But he gets praised for doing a small trick! I am literally, a performing bear!" He retorts. "If anything, I think I deserve it more than him."

You flicked his forehead, "Don't be jealous of a pet. Felix is my son." Freddy slumps in defeat, resorting to kiss you again. "Will he be my son if we get married?" He asks. Oh boy, never-mind about him being innocent. He definitely knew what he was doing this time.

"One thing at a time, big guy!"

[prolix-yuy]

Chapter 1: If You're Not Afraid of the Water

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Summary: A stop on the journey. A melding. A friend across the stars. A look forward.

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: T, not much going on in this but some good old fashioned yearning. While this story is not explicit, my blog and the content shared on it is 18+ MINORS DNI.

Notes: The Crest in canon is a nightmare for day to day life, so I’ve taken some liberties with the setup. We’re also going to not get too hung up on how a space economy runs because I tried googling “star wars bank” and came up with banking syndicates, so for our purposes bank accounts are galactic (just be careful of the foreign ATM fees).

Cross-posted on AO3

A Sweet Response to Tragedy Masterlist || I Think of You Series Masterlist

“Really?”

Mando chuckles at the look on your face, torn between “Is this a joke?” and “I’m fucking ecstatic.” 

“Really. A planet that actually has some civilization on it.” He turns back to the transparisteel, tapping a couple buttons as he enters coordinates. “One that definitely has a market so you can stop stealing my clothes.”

(thank the Maker)

“Not my fault you swept me off to space without as much as a spare sock,” you snark back, but your smile is wide. 

Finally, after a month in space using your finger to brush your teeth (which still feel fuzzy after, coated in whatever keeps ration bars in that shape) and rotating your makeshift wardrobe enough that the kid doesn’t wrinkle his already-wrinkled nose at you, you were finally going to be able to get yourself a modicum of comfort on the ship.

Mando had tried his best to help, offering what small luxuries he keeps on the Crest.

“This is…a bar of soap,” you said when Mando put it in your hand along with your very own towel, slightly threadbare. “That’s…all you have?”

“Toothpaste by the sink, no using my toothbrush” he said, your disgusted face overlooked. He indicated the location of other items within the small room, his body filling the space. “Small medkit. Pain relievers. Razors. Trimmers in the cabinet if you need to cut your hair.”

“You cut your own hair?”

The way Mando’s helmet slowly turned to you had you stifling a laugh.

(Dank farrik you’re beginning to see expressions on the visor)

“Who else would do it?” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Sorry, sorry,” you giggled as he shook his head at you. “Razors?” you asked, peeking into the cabinet. “Oh thank the Maker, I’m woolier than a Tauntaun.”

“This one is mine,” Mando said, setting it aside from the backups. 

“Oh, you shave,” you murmured, looking over the other items. Mando froze beside you, fingers tapping against the sink. Your stomach dropped at his nervousness and the stretch of silence. “Am I not allowed to know that?”

Mando kept still for a moment longer, then shook his head, closing the cabinet. “No, it doesn’t matter.” The gruffness made your stomach twist.

(hate to see him struggle with you)

“Sorry, this is just weird. I didn’t mean to make you feel self-conscious,” you said, stepping back out of the room. “I haven’t lived with someone else in a long time. Not with a man either. Just takes some getting used to.”

(still getting comfortable with whatever’s going on between you too)

“It’s okay,” Mando said, settling everything in its place. “I’ve…never had someone on the ship either.” His voice slipped into your chest and clenched your heart.

(alone so long)

“Well, except for the kid, but he doesn’t need much,” he said, moving out of the ‘fresher and back to the hold. You walked along behind him, watching his shoulders fill the narrow space.

“He’d be happy in the swamp with his favorite snacks,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood. Mando’s shoulders shook with a chuckle, rewarding your words.

The child is turning up to you, watching your giddy smile as you perch in the jumpseat.

“Hear that, Bean? We’re gonna do some shopping. Do you want a cooler toy than that ball?” you say, and the way he looks down at the silver orb, then back up at you says it all.

“Okay, that’s a no. Nevermind, there are plenty of things you’ll like,” you say, legs jittering below him. It jostles the ball out of his hands and into his robe, and the look he shoots you could stop a raging rancor in its tracks. 

“Sorry Bean, I’m a little excited,” you giggle, placing the ball back in his hands. Mando chuckles with his back to you.

“I think you both could use a day off the Crest by yourselves,” he says, the lurch of dropping out of hyperspace tugging low in your gut. “I’m surprised you’re not both sick of me yet.”

“You’re not coming with us?” you ask, arms wrapping around the child to keep him from flying off your lap. He squirms but lets you squish him against your stomach.

“I’ve got repairs to do, refueling.”

“But…” you interrupt. You had hoped the three of you were going to go to the market together, probably split your duties so you didn’t have to go to the armory and Mando didn’t need to go to the clothes shops, then meet up to spoil the child with something hot and meaty from a stall. Maybe even take a moment to just enjoy the day.

(maybe take a moment to enjoy him)

Mando puts his hands on the manual controls, the ship blinking into orbit around a planet dappled in browns and greens. 

“It’s better this way,” he says, and the tone is final. You slump back in the seat, leaning your head back as you feel the rise of your stomach with the descent.

The momentary disappointment you feel at Mando’s refusal to come to the market is quickly replaced with the excitement of actually being there. Your eyes feel as big as the child’s as you walk through the main thoroughfare, the little one in question peeking out of the bag at your hip. You honestly thought the kid would be just as distracting as Mando, but most people don’t seem to pay him much mind as you make notes of which purveyors carry the items you need.

Mando had agreed to handle the armory items, you looking befuddled at the list before he took it back from you. 

“I have a contact, I’ll pick everything up while you’re out.”

You nodded, looking over your own list. You’d asked Mando to include anything he needed last night, but you didn’t see any additions. 

(what does his handwriting look like?)

“You sure there’s nothing you want me to get? I did help myself to several pieces of your wardrobe,” you offered. Mando shook his head, a breathy hum pulling through the vocoder.

“I get all that from the suppliers, no need.” You quirked an eyebrow up at him but chose to say nothing. 

(so that’s why everything he wears is so scratchy)

As you tucked the child into the shoulder bag, helping him unfurl one ear, Mando held out a bag of credits.

“For the supplies,” he said, “and whatever you need.” Heat bloomed across the back of your neck and tingled up your scalp.

(I know what I need and it has nothing to do with credits)

“I’ll take care of my own stuff, but thank you, that’s kind of you to offer,” you said, taking the credit bag for the other supplies. Mando’s helmet tilted at you.

“You have credits?” he asked. 

“Yeah, just have to stop at an ABS or a bank, should be able to access my account.” Mando looked at you for a good moment, shifting on his feet. “You are…familiar with a bank account, right Mando?” 

Mando scoffed through the vocoder, the helmet swiveling around to look at something past your shoulder. “Of course, I know of them.” You smirked at his redirect.

“Forgot that you don’t make money the same way as I did,” you ribbed back.

(late nights, hot kitchens, friends)

“I’ll use this for supplies,” you shook the pouch, the credits clinking inside, “and get my own credits for what I need. Should try to contribute somehow,” you chuckled. Mando’s hand came up to stroke the top of the child’s head, a coo following his touch.

“You contribute in many ways, Mesh’la,” he said, and that foreign word spreads the bloom of heat to a simmer across your shoulders and neck.

The street is noisy but not as crowded as you anticipated, and it’s easy to spot a bank towards the end of the thoroughfare. Entering the cool stone room, you speak with a droid teller and access your account.

You were not a wealthy woman back on Tatooine, but you had saved some. Enough to make plans, to contemplate a future at one time (before Mando upended your life), and definitely enough to know what the balance should be. The number looking back up at you is a significant amount more. You frown and tap the proffered datapad, opening up the transaction log for more details.

Last paycheck - D

Estate Sale - D

Rental Security Refund - D

U OK - D

A list of deposits spanning the last few weeks, all followed by the simple letter. The final one is for half a credit, a reference to the time a wealthy man tipped the same on his lavish bill at the Lively Bantha. You know who the credits are from.

Davrah.

Your breath hitches in your chest, tears creeping into the corners of your eyes. Your life, liquidated. Placed in a spot that was safe. A friend reaching across the stars.

(kind, smart, caring Davrah)

(what did you do to deserve him?)

You withdraw enough to cover your purchases and to give you some pocket credits in case of emergencies. As a last task, you transfer half a credit back to Davrah’s account. The message is simple.

Safe.

It takes a moment to compose yourself, absentmindedly stroking the child’s head as he burbles curiously at you. You had pushed the thought out of your mind, what the life you left behind might look like. A life that you spent years curating, growing, cultivating so that one day comfort and happiness might fill the ache in your chest. Some days it felt like building a monument to a god you no longer worshiped. Other days you felt the excitement of next steps ahead of you. Most times it was a quiet acceptance of home being all that you made of it. You can’t say you hadn’t thought of it in the weeks in space, imaging what home looked like. However, the image that came to mind wasn’t an apartment, a job, a place to put your feet up at night. It’s becoming a ship, a duty, a clan of two that you’ve held in your arms.

It’s clear now, the numbers still blinking up at your eyes. Home is no longer behind, it’s ahead of you.

NEXT

[amysubmits]

What are some of your fav recipes?? I am in such a cooking rut.

I have that problem all the time! We're both picky so it's tough.

My current favorite is this recipe we found fairly recently.

Some that we kinda regularly rotate through (and yeah we eat too much smoked sausage...we use turkey smoked sausage, at least! Haha).

Tacos

Jambalaya

Cajun pasta (basically jambalaya but with pasta rather than rice)

A sheet pan meal that is smoked sausage, fingerling potatoes, green beans, carrots and onions - brushed with olive oil, garlic, salt and pepper.

A sheet pan meal that is smoked sausage, bell peppers and onions, brushed with olive oil, garlic, salt and pepper.

Beef stew

Scalloped potatoes with ham

Shake & bake pork steak.

Chicken soup with carrots, celery and pearl quinoa rather than pasta (a copycat of progresso's homesyle)

Pizza-quesadillas

Chicken fajitas

Subs

Chicken with "kick'n" seasoning

"thanksgiving" but without the turkey, lol. Mashed potatoes, gravy, stuffing, veggies.

Hamburger gravy over mashed potatoes. We don't make this often but it's sooo good.

Hope something in here gives you an idea. :)

[kanene-yaaay]

Full of Life

Random Notes: This fanfic contains Cheer Up Tickles, Mouth Tickles, Rapberries, Tickly Kisses, Gang Up Tickles, Nice Nicknames, Light Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and the power of friendship. This fic is about 3.000 words. This fic is Lee!Patton with Ler!Logan and Ler!Roman with also implied Lee!Logan. Virgil is mentioned. I did not prrofreaded this yet :’v.

Kanene’s Notes: Heya!! Holy gosh, I started this fic with a very clear direction in mind and then proceeded to ignore it xDD. Gosh, I literally forgot how natural writing can feel. I hope you have as fun reading this as I did writing it. <3

[~*~]

Patton was not sure how Logan knew about the Blanket Rule, but he did. Maybe they talked about this one day.

 About how, when Patton opened Logan's door and immediately went to hide under the grey comforter of his friend's room, that meant he didn't want any kind of contact. No touches. No words. No acknowledgment.

 And Logan respected that. He was just so good like that.

 Actually, in Patton's opinion, Logan was amazingly good at a handful of things, but especially in dealing with sad days.

 They didn't expect sad days to go as smoothly as they did in each others' company, but now that they lived through tough and hard moments, it really couldn't go any other way.

 Logan, for his part, didn't know how to comfort and preferred the silence instead of the possibility of saying the wrong thing and upsetting the person further, obligating him to deal with things he hardly understood, such as feelings. And, in Patton's turn, he would rather cry and let himself feel all the bad emotions far away from any judgmental eyes or unsolicited advices.

 Now, Patton wasn't really sure what he had to offer on Logan's Bad Days, but the other confirmed that he helped with such certainty and unavoidable security that it left no other options than trusting on his words.

 Patton trusted him. A lot.

 The cat lover mused this sentence on his brain, trying to focus better on his senses than the overwhelming thoughts that fought desperately for his attention. It was also good that Logan's house wasn't the quietest, too. Above the heat that started to bring his mind to the present and to the now, Patton could hear the sound of Roman in the kitchen, talking fiercely on the phone, hitting by accident - between curses and 'Who the hell put this here?' - cabinets, pans and bouncy containers.

 He chuckled. It was a low sound, barely there.

 But still.

There was also the quiet sound of Logan moving the books and cups from his table, turning on his computer and typing.

 Also, there were cars passing outside. Cars filled with people and sometimes even pets. There were purring cats and lazy dogs and families out there. Stars and fireflies and kids laughing because their parents finally gave in and bought them ice cream before dinner. There was the wind ruffling someone else's hair, a parrot learning new words and an old couple enjoying a cup of coffee on a low night who could, as well, be found outside.

 There was so much life outside.

 His hand touched his chest and Patton felt his heartbeats and the way his torso would go up and down at every breath. The way the comforter squished under his fingers in a feeling of soft and secure and...

 There was life inside too.

 There was a vivid life in the way Logan put one of their favorite movies, letting the opening to fly unashamed across the room in a silent invitation.

 There was life in the way Patton knew that, the moment he opened the door, the smell of baked goodies would fill his senses and his heart.

 And in the way the stars kept their light and the planets their rotation and meteors continued to fly around that gigantic amount of things we call the Universe, as if nothing else really mattered.

 And...

 And maybe that was true.

 Maybe, while the stars were in the sky, the cats continued to purr, a child kept bothering their parents for a snack and best friends kept caring about you during your bad days...

  Maybe then nothing else mattered.

 Patton pushed the blanket away from him, taking a deep breath. 

 It was much less stuffy outside.

 "Logan." The other turned in his direction immediately, fondly scoffing when he found the other making grabby hands in his direction. A couple of seconds later his hoodie was flying across the room and falling from Patton's awaiting arms, since his skill of catching things was still a work in progress.

 After a few seconds and a couple more, Patton found himself melting on his friend's half hug, watching the movie - which had to be played again from the beginning, since when Patton arrived it was already in the middle of the plot’s clímax, but neither commented on it - and barely jumping on the bean bag when Roman opened the door with no discretion.

 "If that is a sad movie that I hear I will slay you all. Except for you, Patty Cake, I will fight for you." He came in, phone still pressed between his shoulder and ear, his hands too occupied in not letting the bows full of cookies, popcorn, chocolate and a lonely pot of ice cream to fall. He lightly hit Patton's thigh with his foot. "Move, I'm gay."

 "Hi gay, I’m Patton." He chuckled, that time it sounded a bit stronger.

 "We are not eating this absurd amount of sugar." Logan replied, profusely ignoring Patton's pun.

 "Thank you for your input, Microsoft Nerd." Roman answered with a joyful, fake tune, totally unfazed by Logan's half not-amused and half but-also-not-surprised stare. "If you have any complaints in regards to the attendant's service we ask for you to fill a complaint form that will be carefully read by our team, who will do their best to apply the necessary changes in a near future. Roman's company-" a loud gasp cut his words when Logan forcefully grabbed one bowl and took part of the cookies and chocolates inside it. "Hey! This is mine!"

 "No, this is Virgil's. He won't be able to come for our movie night so he asked us to keep some food for him."

 "Do you think if we watch more movies we will be able to wait for him to come back?" Patton questioned.

 "I can't say for certain since I am not sure how long his date will be."

 Roman snorted. "If I taught him well, he is not coming for tonight. Gotta enjoy the-" Patton shoved a cookie on Roman's face, successfully stopping his sentence.

 "Nope!" He smiled, now proceeding to shove a cookie on his own mouth before trying to give Logan the same treatment, pouting when he saw that the other was already munching a sweet, eyeing him warily. He unpaused the movie. "He is my baby brother and I'm not thinking about that!"

 The movie night started quiet. For today, quiet was more than nice to Patton.

 Then, in the part when the protagonist learned that there was magic in her world, Logan grabbed his hand and started to trace lightly, in slow shapes all the way over the lines across his palm, his fingers sometimes traveling to his pulse and forearm in a few swirls before going back to the previous spot. A small, however permanent smile began to gleam on Patton’s face.

 He knew this was going to happen. Logan was one of his first friends who discovered his liking for tickling somewhere on the beginning of their journey to their friendship, as well as how comforting that activity could be for him.

 A faint blush still dotted his cheeks when he thought about that. Today was not an exception, the soft touches made butterflies wiggle their wings in excitement on his tummy, a wobbly tune taking over his smile, especially when he saw Logan’s slight grin at his quiet reactions.

 Patton glued his eyes on the screen, refusing to acknowledge his friend’s antics, which led to a yelp escaping from his barriers when a hand rested on his side, pulling him closer to the half hug and sneaking a couple of pokes on the ticklish spot.

 “You good, Pat?” Roman quirked an eyebrow in his direction and Patton felt his face get hottier, giggles beginning to bubble in his throat when the pokes evolved to a drag of fingers that went up to his ribs and then down, back to his hips, blunt nails spiraling and teasing carefully the sensitive skin. He did his best to not squeal and squirm away.

 “Yes! I aham.” He beamed, trying to dislodge the walking tickles and dissipate the giddy energy spreading across his nerves. “I just really like this sce-eene!”

 Logan hummed innocently under Patton’s pout thrown in his direction, as if didn’t just squeeze his side right when he was talking. “I believe it’s an important scene for the plot, yes.”

  Roman squinted his eyes at the screen. "She's literally just asleep.”

 “Yeah!” Patton giggled, scrunching his nose as he did so. “I think that part is very-” Logan decided that was a very good time to concentrate his efforts on prodding and exploring every single ticklish inch of his right lowest rib, knowing very well each weak spot and wasting not a single effort to put his best friend in stitches. Patton felt his resolve break, uncontrollable titters pouring from his lips. “Funny!” He squealed. “Very, very funny!”

 “Really, can you explain why you think that, please?”

 “Logan!”

 “I am merely curious to understand your concept of humor, Patton.” Logan mused, finally letting go of his hand to attack his sides, making the cat lover to clap his hands on his mouth, hiding the snorts who were trying to fly from his lips. “Maybe I will even start to see why you’re so adamant on making so many puns on your daily basis.”

 Patton shook his head, giving up from trying to not react to his friend’s attack in order to wiggle away from his curious hands and silly scribbly fingers. Sadly, he ended up making the mistake of turning his back to Roman, who, watching the whole ordeal, let a devilish smirk take over his face.

 Before Patton could even protest against Logan’s words, two arms hugged him from bei, hands squirming to rest, in a mock of safety, on his armpits. “Hey, Specs, guess what!”

 “No! Roman!” Patton squeaked, kicking at the feeling of one more attack concentrated on another ticklish spot, crackles beginning to paint his laughter here and there as Roman’s fingers began to tease the skin, his thumbs just barely twitching on the place, fingers clawing at his high ribs. “No, no, please!”

 “Yes, Roman?” Logan answered, using the opportunity to give the other a break and stop his tickling.

 “You know what I realized? That Patty Cake here,” Patton’s giggles only got higher when Roman decided to nuzzle his neck, words coming out muffled as they hit the sensitive skin. “Who has the purest, sweetest dazzling smile, haven’t told us how amazing he is today.”

 “Nonono, please not this! Not this!” Patton turned to Logan, who was the more susceptible and within his field of view. He put the best puppy eyes he could muster through his giggles and uncontrollable titters that still fell from his lips. “Lo-lo,” he pouted in order to give his face a stronger power. Logan stared at him as a deed caught in the light. “Plehehea- nahaha!” A shriek flew from his mouth. “Roman, not fair!”

 Roman smirked, dramatically preparing himself for another raspberry.

 “Don’t even think about using your evil Puppy Eyes on our defenseless Microsoft Nerd!” He drowned Logan’s protest by making Patton shriek with another attack. Peals of loud laughter filled the room when he decided to release smaller raspberries, traveling from one side to other of the cat lover’s neck.

“Anyway,” Logan ruffed, concentrating a sea of squeezes on Patton’s knees as a revenge, relishing in the way his blush travelled over all his face when snorts and squeals began to become more and more frequent. “You were talking about making Patton tell us something?”

“Oh, yeah! I was thinking about being really nice today, since our dear Laffy Taffy Patty looks a bit tired.” As the words came out of his mouth, Roman changed his technique to something softer, watching amused as Patton wiggled non when he decided to drag his fingers on his sides, scribbling them to his chin - and, of course, resting a couple of kisses on his neck, he wasn’t a monster - and them tapping his way down, this time choosing to give a bit of attention to his shaky tummy. “So we could just make him admit something small and simple, really! You won’t even notice when the words come out, dear!” He changed his attention to the victim on his arms, hugging him close and nuzzling him.

“Please! Not there, not there!!” Patton tried to dislodge the other’s tickly affection from his ears and neck, but being constantly distracted by Logan, who kept sneaking horribly, unbearable scratches to the sensitive skin under his knees everytime he stopped trying to pry his hands from his legs. “I wihihill give you my cohohokies! All of them! Plehehease.”

“That is very kind of you, Patton. However, I think it isn’t very polite of you to interrupt Roman like that.” Logan tsked, now letting  go of both his knees to concentrate his efforts in tormenting the weak spots of just one. “Please, I do ask for you to refrain from laughing about such a serious matter. I can almost believe you’re not taking your cheering up as seriously as we are.”

“I am! I am!!”

“Then why are you laughing?”

“Because you-” he snorted, shaking his head and closing his eyes. “You are t-tickling me!”

Logan’s eyes lit up with mischief, a playful wink being thrown at Roman’s direction before he returned his gaze to the previously-sad friend. “I can guarantee you I am not.” 

“Falsehohohood!”

“Very well.” The one with an unicorn onesie lifted his arms, crossing them on his chest just as the other attacker also stopped his tickling. “See? I am not even touching you. And yet you’re still giggling yourself silly as, ah, Roman would say.”

Patton clamped his mouth shut, trying to keep the remainescent giggles trapped on his chest, a slight feeling of dejavu hitting him. He shook his head.

“No? You’re not a Smiley Laffy Taffy, you say?”

“Stop stealing my sweet nicknames!”

Just as the one with a big, truly gigantic smile would shake his head again, his giggling actually being subdued, Roman decided that was just the perfect moment to vibrate his hands on his lower stomach, his barrier crumbling, again, in a matter of seconds.

“Roman!”

“I see.” Logan mused, in between Patton’s high pitched squeaks when the other failed to cease his attack. “So, you're a serious case of Giggle Bug.”

“Am not!” He cried in protest, holding Roman’s pulse, not really trying to push it away.

“Oh, no!” Roman dramatically cried, fishing more laughter from the puppy lover. “What are we going to do Patton? Are we doomed to hear your cute, amazing giggly giggles and delightful laughter forever and ever and ever? What shall we do, Specs?”

Logan sighs, deep and serious, adjusting his glasses. “I fear there is nothing we can do except mitigate this unfortunate situation. As you can see…” Logan poked Patton’s torso, prodding some of the most ticklish ribs with a tiny, soft smile when the other bounced around, happy yelps pouring from his lips. He cleaned his throat, going back to the character. “This ribcage is full of all sorts of trapped squeals, snorts, squeaks, titters and giggles. As Patton’s friends, we must free them all to help him.”

“Crofters!” Patton suddenly blurted out, his laughter almost making the words untelligible. “I will tell you where Ro-ro keeps his Crof-nahahaha!” Patton squirmed when Roman kneaded his hips, a mischief glint still present on his smile. “Rohohoman!”

“Dishonesty! Trickery! Treason!” The one with red pajamas protested with a betrayed shriek. “Patton! After all the adventures we had gone through, after accepting you in my family as a brother, how could you do that to me? Oh, jail for friend! Jail for the Giggle Bug for one thousand of years!”

“I am sorry! I am very sahahaharrey!” Patton’s eyes widened when he saw Roman form a claw with his both hands, slowly descending them to his belly. “Waitwaitwait! Ro! Ro-ro! Ple-please!”

“No can do, Patty Cake.” Roman sighed in faux sadness, wiggling his fingers for a good effect. “Now I have no alternative except having to getcha, getcha, getcha! Your yummy tummy is all mine, now. ~”

But then nothing happened.

Roman’s hands stopped, leaving a puddle of giggly Patton to basically melt more in his embrace, lost in titters and phantom tickles.

“Oh,” Roman said, carefully, the tune of his voice making a shiver run across Logan’s spine. “Hello, Logan.”

Logan accepted his fate, trying another experimental squeeze at the dramatic friend’s side and receiving, just like his first try a few seconds ago, no reaction. He sighed. “I presume you’re not ticklish on your sides, then.”

“And I presume it just takes the mention of Crofters to make you turn the tables.” Roman gave Patton a last quick kiss on his neck, gaining another happy giggle before ruffling his hair. “Excuse me, Giggly Bug, it seems like our dear Blushy Bear is craving for a bit of my tickly attention right now.”

Patton hugged his sides, smile shiny as the sun, the clouds which previously assaulted him haven been already disappeared for a long time, now. His gleaming eyes glued on Logan, smile widening when he remembered he was the one who started everything.

“Get him, Ro-ro!”

And, as pleas and teases felt the air, Patton took another deep breath, letting his friends have some fun before he turned the tables at Roman, since he also deserved some good, nice tickles for being such a caring friend. Soon enough Logan’s laughter rang across the room and Patton only smiled wider.

Full of life, indeed.

[horanghoe]

warm milk & honey - SKZ fic

A/N: I just realised I forgot Han ^ I am screaming

Pairing: OT7/reader

Rating: PG friendly (with a friendly warning of poly / multiple person relationship).

Genre: POLY!SKZ / Fluff / Very slight angst & mentions of bad sleep patterns.

Word Count: 3.6k exactly, my doods

Summary: A restless night, ultimately remedied by your sweet baby man angel boys. Or alternatively: Istg if Jisung makes one more weird noise imma end this man’s whole life no cap, Binnie hold me back -

Back to ~ SKZ Masterlist

Back to ~ Main Masterlist

Special Mentions <3

 @domjaehyun​ for being a yoghurt eating legend that takes a year to respond ASKDJF ILY BICH//

@seowoos​ for inspiring this whole damn thing & helping me feel more comfortable w publishing more niche content models. Even if it’s just cheesy enough for the two of us <3 //

@chocolvte​ for being another OG on this list, n just generally being a sweet bean <3 baby girl ur reactions were the second inspiration to get me INTO SKZ in the first place. ily uwu // 

and lastly, surprise @mikoto-ica-fics​ !! You were the last part of the equation that got me to write smin for these boys. I binged practically all your fics in two nights bby, keep making michellin star fics <3

Tonight wasn’t working out quite as you had expected.

To be honest, it was fucking shit.

Well, the night itself was okay. In terms of activities. An evening in with your boyfriend, Chan.

Just you two versus the world. The poor boy was so tired that honestly, it had only consisted of a walk through the park to grab snacks, and returning to the empty dorm to laze around the whole evening. A Netflix date with some *ahem* late night fun to settle you both into a deep, restful state.

It was brilliant, fantastic. Until it wasn’t.

Until you lay painfully awake in his bed and suffocated in the dark silence and space between you. It wasn’t Chan’s fault; the obnoxious whirring of electronics made your head spin, tiny flashing lights and minute feelings of unease at the cupboard door leaning open; all made it virtually impossible to sleep.

It was too cold. Too hot. You were so comfortable, melted into the mattress. But it was swallowing you and your claustrophobia was starting to make you twitch. Moving off of your angelic boy’s limbs, you shimmied to the cooler side of the bed.

He stirred a little, before settling on turning away, onto his side. Phew. At least you hadn’t woken him. It wasn’t like you were trying to be selfish, but fuck. This was insufferable.

Every time you looked at the clock you were sure it slowed down - balls, at this point it could’ve skipped back an hour and you wouldn’t have batted an eye. Mostly because if they weren’t checking the clock, they were staring dead straight up at the ceiling.

Eh. Ugh. Fuck. I can’t sleep.

That’s all your brain could think. Stuck - monotone and on a never-ending loop.

It seemed like everything you had ever thought was swimming around in your brain like some kind of primordial juice. Feelings and emotions swelling and bloating in your belly until they settled.

And then a car passed outside, and everything started to swell up again.

Chan was on his side, turned away and peacefully gaining some shut-eye. He was only lightly sleeping though, that much you could tell. His body gently lifting, then falling with breath. Like you; he often struggled to sleep deeply, usually not lasting very long when he did manage to.

You were so pissed.

How dare he sleep. And look so good doing it. Even just his bareback looked hot as shit - here you were, a messy, greasy big toe wrestling with your stupid ape brain to shut off the useless brain thoughts, next to this slice of heaven - just, ugh existing so perfectly.

“Oh my god, this is torture.” You cursed quietly into the dead space.

Maybe the frustration was all from hormones?

Nah, fuck that. Feminism and all that jazz. That’s just part of the human condition, babycakes. Happens to the best of us, unfortunately.

No, what it was, was the constant whirring coming from the TV screen and Felix’s PlayStation tower and large monitor. The tiny little flashes, whirrs, huffs from the fan and rotating lights. It was driving you abhorrently insane. FUCK.

“Chan? Channie, baby, are you awake?.” You whispered into the air. His breath faltered a little, stirred mostly by your movement to groan, gruff and flip the duvet off your hot, sticky body. Gentle though you tried to be, it was still enough to wake his fuzzy brain.

“Chan, please. I’m sorry babe but that TV is driving me fucking insane.” Your voice was too alert and frustrated for him not to stir. His heart panged a little at the distress laced in your tone.

“Please, Channie. I’m so sorry…”

He rolled on his back to look at you. Slowly, and with much effort. He groaned softly before wiping his eyes and leaving his arms above his head.

“Hey.” He whispered, warmly smiling.

“Don’t be sorry – can you not sleep again, baby girl?” Chan asked softly, watching you sit stiffly upright. His deep voice made your heart flutter, nodding as he groaned. He smiled despite any resentment you may have allowed him to feel. Resting his warm palm against your rib as he muttered a response - you excused his fumbled words for definition - so tired he was barely able to keep his eyes open.

“You can turn it off, yeah?” Chan sighed.

What he meant was ‘You know how and where to turn it off, without messing up the whole system like last time, right?’. You nodded quickly, squeezing his bicep lightly before slipping from the exposed mattress.

Dashing up to scramble behind the low TV unit and find the one wire to end it all. Your infernal pain that was.

He watched you, letting his eyes rest occasionally. Truth was, you looked so beautiful to him when you were concentrating on something. For example, pulling out the HDMI cord triumphantly. And holding in a small squeal (scream), of relief when the high pitched buzzing cut out with a slight electronic fuzz. He chuckled, not missing your little feet pattering in step with a tiny little victory pump.

“Yes. Fuck. The noise, it’s gone!” Chan chuckled softly, keeping his arm outstretched until you landed beside him. Pulling you toward him, under the covers.

“Yeah, you really got that wire Y/N. Showed it who’s the boss, huh?” His tired enthusiasm outweighed his sarcasm, owning a soft kiss to the cheek as you clambered over the bed, only to flop with a weighted sigh straight down onto his shoulder.

He giggled, smiling with a yawn as he tucked his arm against your ribs, tucking you up against his chest in a bearhug.

You fell asleep quickly; soft breaths and just the presence of Chan's being, enough to satiate the gnawing ache in the back of your brain.

And it was peaceful. Restful. Warm, and so pleasant.

Until it wasn’t.

Turns out tonight wasn’t your night. The clock read 1:28 am – and the boys were due to come home from practice any moment now. To be honest they were pretty late.

Chan had originally had the day off, hence the chance for you to be led here in his arms. But you were starting to think it really hadn’t made that much of a difference.

It wasn’t just the high pitched whirring that had aggravated you, but now the uncomfortable heat radiating from Chan's body. The small whoosh of cool air against your neck at any vehicle that passed by. Or just the evening breeze. You groaned softly, dropping your head back to Chan’s chest with a soft thud, lulling back into a light and unrestful sleep.

Ten minutes or so passed. Waking from a fuzzy dream, you were disorientated. The worst dreams always happened in short little bursts. Like little hellish fever dreams.

The clock now read 1:39 am and the time between minutes was becoming unbearable. Too long to bear . You had to move. Speak. Scream. Cry. Kick. Do something.

Peeling off Chan’s arm, and replacing yourself with a large fluffy pillow, you left your lover to rest. You dread to think that it would be able to replace you, but hey, at least it wouldn’t move like one big fat sweaty ferret, right?

Sigh. Sad times.

You abandoned Chan for the disgustingly bright hallway. Seeking new comforts, from whoever would take you. The boys were home; noises of beings floating down the hall, past Chan’s room.

By the time you had gathered the strength to rise off the bed though – blinking away the stars and excited little lines in your vision and raising enough chi to move your soul, and body upwards off of the bed – an inkling of tiredness was starting to itch into your consciousness.

You ached to be held. Loved.

You weren’t sleepy enough to get back into his bed though. Though; you missed Chan’s body as soon as you had tumbled yourself away from it.

---------

Fetching your favourite fluffy square pillow and putting on one of Chan’s big shirts, you padded out and into the hallway. The door closed behind you with a soft putt, pillow tight against your belly.

The tired but comfortingly loud voices of your other lovers were coming from the kitchen.

You wobbled forward, groaning to yourself as your thighs began to ache. Just from being alive, you guessed. Your thighs tingled your skin into little chilly goosebumps, a shiver sparking down your spine.

Maybe the heat of Chan’s bed wasn’t so bad, you began to consider. Before a voice echoed down to where you were slowly walking from.

“Ya – hold up, I’ll grab my jumper then we can watch that stupid shit-film you were on about earlier?” You heard Jisung shout over the kitchen to the boys gathered on the sofa.

The boys muttered some form of agreement and before you could process it, the firm but soft body of Han Jisung had swung right around the corner and straight into your zombie path.

Being conscious, and not half-dead like you, he was able to stop abruptly in front of you and step back a little. The shock of a body blocking his path was quickly masked with warm love as he cooed at the sight of you.

“Y/n-ieeeeee look at youuuu~” He whispered loudly, wrapping his arms around you to squeeze you firm against his body.

His presence eased you, despite the chaotic energy he may have appeared to have. He was just one big squirrel with muscles. The perfectly-right size to pull you against him, your neck flopping so skin met skin, cheek to shoulder in that white sleeveless shirt of his.

You melted into his caring touch, groaning when he gave a squeeze and actually, not hating how firmly he held you. For a moment, he seemed to be just quietly accepting your unspoken words. Night-long grief expressed in the way you clung to him.

Eventually, he asked the inevitable questions, though.

“Baby, why aren’t you asleep? Hmm, pretty? It’s like, 2 am already!” He exclaimed softly, somewhat conscious of Chan’s sleeping presence down the hall. And your zombie-eardrums.

You couldn’t answer, instead, you let him pull you away so he could peer down at your head against his shoulder. The pillow was a soft barrier between you, though he removed it to place it softly on the floor.

“As cute as you look in Chan’s top right now, baby, this hallway is pretty cold. Gosh damn, your legs are shaking so much. How long have you been standing out here princess? Let’s get you warmed up, yeah?” He squeezed you against him once more - rubbing his warm palms against your trembling, shivering thighs.

As he stood back up you groaned again, reluctant to articulate how badly you just wanted to be softly touched. Not aggressively rubbed. Even if you appreciated the notion, it was cutely awkward. Your expression made him laugh softly, tucking hair behind your ear and placing a kiss on your cheek, head, forehead.

“You okay though? Wanna come sit with us?” You nodded quickly, body flopping into his hold as soon as his arms went to lift you. Your head rested on his shoulder, Jisung’s body dipping to lift you and wrap your knees around his hips. He was such a careful, sweet baby boy.

“Ya – come on you big baby, you. Who do you want to be delivered too for the meantime, huh? I gotta go change out of my gym stuff.”

“Hyunjin-ah... please...” You mumbled airily. Despite how unused your voice was, it was sweet as honey. He smiled, responding with a soft “Sure" before turning back to where he had come from. Heart warmed by the opportunity to care for you, even if for just a moment.

And even though he was a bit sticky – and the thought ‘yuck' registered quickly in your half-conscious brain – you didn’t mind the smell. Or the languid way he carried you.

You nuzzled against his neck, groaning once more as his entrance was announced to the room. A loud “Han Jisung's Special Delivery Service!” was projected, I.N. slipping by with a quick ruffle of your hair before moving to turn down the hall, into his room. The boys looked up at the noise and your entrance into the room, immediately softened by the sight.

You, entirely snuggled against a buoyant Jisung, that held you so carefully against his chest. Messy hair tucked under his chin; your eyes were puffy, sore, and barely open as he came into the centre of the soft-lit room.

“Nawww – cuuuutieeee~” Changbin cooed, Lee Know giggling as Seungmin stepped forward to kiss your cheek, sweetly brushing hairs away from your face. The proximity to Jisung didn’t seem to spook his intimacy.

Your eyes fluttered close from the embrace, Seungmin smiling to himself at his ability to soothe you. Even just a little.

“That’s a funny looking jumper, Ji.” Seungmin quipped, before adding a quick “Hi Y/N.” With a small squeeze of your cheek, before heading toward the kitchen.

“Hyunjin-ah you have a special request delivery here, where shall I put her?” Jisung questioned, approaching the sofa nimbly.

Hyunjin smiled, shuffling a little before holding out his arms, patting his lap.

“Right here~” you heard, before feeling gravity weigh at your back. You got off early, aided by Jisung and Hyunjin’s hands on your hips. Quietly you yawned, turning to a barefaced beautiful boy, smiling at you cutely.

Jisung pecked a kiss on your shoulder before passing, leaving to go sort himself out.

Hyunjin smiled up at you with a coo, pulling you down towards him with his long limbs. With you laying, legs tangled above him he wiggled back so you could lay comfortably on his chest.

He kissed your cheek before tucking your forehead against his chin, your eyes slowly bobbing open and shut as his calm vibe washed over you. Changbin shared some of your weight on the somewhat roomy sofa; kissing your hair softly and curling against you to keep you warm.

The television was on a late-night MC show playing. Though it registered to you as white noise. The boy’s voices over you were soothing, even if they edged a little loud occasionally.

At some point, you had started to drift off again. For the most part, Hyunjin was a gentle giant anyways. So despite his resistance to skinship, your body (and some of the boys), was never left out in terms of body-pillow-comforts.

Meaning, he treated your limbs like a very bony pillow he could encapsulate entirely.

You weren’t sure where the others were. Or what part of the sofa you were even on. You figured the end since the guys had their feet up. But you didn’t mind. It was safe. Here, in their arms. Against their bodies.

Even the bright overhead lights of the kitchen and hallway weren’t enough to stop you lulling into sleep.

At a later point, you awoke again with a startle – Jisung shushing your tired whines with a kiss as he jumped onto the sofa to your left, a little too enthusiastically. Hyunjin moaned like a brat, ultimately having a play fight underneath you until you mustered up a death stare to end all squabbles, ever. Period. Jisung settled, intertwining your fingers on Hyunjin’s belly until your breath softened. Falling into a weak slumber once more.

Once again; your sleep was great. Perfect. Until it wasn’t.

An abrupt jostle of Hyunjin jolting to stop spilling the food he held above your head, was met with an unattractive grunt of pure disgust on your part. Eyes squinted, head wrinkled and body tense, you were once again awake.

“Sorry baby! I didn’t mean to wake you!” Hyunjin whined, too loudly next to your throbbing head. Changbin noticed your tense limbs and pulled you backwards against his chest. This merely caused another squabble to ensue between them - who held the right to hold you, like a fluffy comfort blank.

Suddenly everything was bothering you again.

Their constant jostling and boyish movements were just too much. You pulled up from Changbin. Avoiding the tugging, whining, needy arms and hands from Hyunjin to stand weakly once more.

Frustrated. Tired. And all coupled with a reasonably ugly scowl weeping over your face.

They were so engrossed in their silly little arguments, little kicks, punches and teasing laughter, that they barely even noticed your sluggish movements to get up.

Until you were on your feet. Your body heat sapped from them in a bitter attempt at being sour. Hyunjins hands immediately flew out to steady you. Changbin pouting but ultimately letting you retreat once more.

“Y/Nieeee~ Come baaack, I didn’t mean it. Come lay back down, baby~” Hyunjin whined warily, the other two boys still giggling amongst themselves. You swatted against the tiredness on your face, grumbling before stumbling backwards.

You made it a few steps before you folded over on impact at hitting the kitchen table. The table thudded on impact and the boys winced, watching your face scrunch up in pain immediately.

A new pair of hands caught you this time, stuttering before lean arms caught you.

“Woah! Careful there pretty girl, nearly took the whole bloody table out. You okay?”

Felix's. Soft, caring and most importantly soft voice and calm motions of support waved over you in a way that gave you immediate comfort. You rested your head against his chest as he tugged you up, body slumping into him with an inaudible impact. He giggled, despite your weighted movements, speaking lowly with that deep, tired voice of his.

“Y/N, you silly sausage, are you alright?” He prompted quietly, leaning his head down to capture your whines and huffs of pain.

“Owww, my butt… That hurt~” You groaned, not minding his giggles but sending a puffy glare to the others snickering away on the sofa.

The table (or your idiot bulldozer body), had set a deep ache right into the cheek of your butt. Your hand kneaded it gently before Felix’s hand quickly replaced yours, rubbing and squeezing softly until your face scrunched, the pain subsiding.

“Ouch.” You whispered, peering up at him with a pout. He kissed your nose cutely with a little eruption of giggles, helping you crack a pouty smile.

“Come on, cutie.” He mumbled before grabbing your hand to guide you slowly into the kitchen. “I could kiss it better?” He prompted, ultimately softening at your lack of response. You were so morgue-ish you hadn’t even registered his words. Letting him tug you blindly as your eyes struggled to stay open.

You could barely register his hands, pressing at your waist. Weakly managing to hold on as he lifted you on top of the counter. Squinting, you could see the clock read 2:23 (am) on the cooker. Ugh. What a night.

You’d feel shit in the morning. But that was nearly impossible to think about with the way Felix was holding you right now. Like a baby. Or a puppy. A little ball of fluff.

He kept some form of contact as he moved around you – a hand to the knee or his hip between your legs. Or even lips against your hairline, using the counter space around you to do something. What he was doing, you were tired to even care.

“You know what used to help me Y/N? When I couldn’t sleep at night?” He prompted gently. You shook your head, pulling back with a weak sway

“Warm milk and honey!” He exclaimed quietly. Too cute for his own good. You smiled, and he pulled you against his chest to kiss your cheek and giggle delicately.

“You want some? Then we could try to sleep? You look like you need some shut-eye, baby. Don’t wanna miss out on that beauty sleep! If you want - we can always sleep in – just call in sick? Your boss is honestly so nice, I'm sure she won’t mind. You say you’re always working through lunch breaks anyway?”

Despite his rambling, you just nodded. Tired eyes once again resting as the hum of the radiator, the vibration of his chest eased your brain. Your head tucked so right underneath his chin. His palms folded behind your lower back.

At some point, Changbin had appeared. Sweeping a thumb over your forehead before kissing you sweetly, cheek resting on Felix’s shoulder.

“I love you, princess. Sorry for waking you.” He had whispered against your lips. “Mmm-I-love-you-too-Binnie~” You managed in one tumbling sentence. In fairness, the touch would've probably led you both somewhere (the bedroom), if you weren’t in such a zombie-like state.

“Sure thing, pretty.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your puffy cheeks before retreating. He let you both be, cold marble beneath your thighs now warmed by your constant body heat. You passed out pretty quickly against Felix’s chest. Cocooned, safe.

What you did miss in your deep, deep sleep was the way they carried you.

Felix physically, to their shared room. Changbin carrying your drinks and fetching your favourite pillow from the hall.

And what you heavenly missed in the night; they made up to you in the morning.

And the next night. And the night after that.

Because even though you occasionally suffered restless nights, you knew one of them would always be there to catch you.

And you’d do the same for them.

P.S. Fuck Chan’s wiring system. Extension cables were the bane of your nightly living. *holds up fingers in a cross and hisses*

well would you look at that: updated 03/OCTOBER/2021

[lilyunad]

Lily The Borrower 1

My borrower business wasn't as good as it should be... I knew about borrowers who looked like the bigger humans, they had legs. I didn't. I have a tail. I don't know what I am.

I have a rainbow tail instead of legs, and that's all I'm sure about along with the fact I borrow from humans to survive.

My rainbow tail smells sweet at times. More than I wished, it brought me into traumatizing events that still haunt me to this day... Pets have tried to bite me. Some beans too. I have large trust issues from that.

Today though, I Looked at my hook as I was in a house with no one in it seemed. I wanted to explore, and these things... Large, with multiple pieces of thin white in them. I did see beans look into them sometimes. So I did, rarely though.

I climbed a short bookcase, as said I have a tail and I really try to avoid high stuff.

An opened book was there, with a representation of something round... Maybe a planet? I knew about the moon, I was a little explorer as well, sometimes out to see the stars and study on my own. It didn't take long for me to guess that the world was a globe, based on the moon and shadows when the sun rose or lowered in the sky, or the stars locations throughout the seasons. The world was a globe and everything rotated.

Though there were some symbols under that picture. Sometimes I watched tv or self guessed some stuff. It was easy to learn to read English, though I learnt French first.

"Ear... Th..."

CLANG

A loud noise made me jump. My hearing's so sensitive I almost had a mental breakdown, but it's good... A huge shadow is approaching me.

Its eyes glow in the dark like mirrors. I back away...

Until it purrs and is revealed to be the stray cat who always helps me when things are difficult or getting lonely, sometimes both. He's not a danger for me.

He reminds me of that by touching my head with a gentle paw. I was trembling, not realizing he was my friend.

It's okay, I recover... But I want comfort.

My friend is purring, and lies down. I get closer, hesitating, my cat friend sees it too, but eventually I climb to be on his back.

Comfort...

[nodameshield]

how are we doing? have the tears dried yet? I know mine haven’t :: 

let’s start light : research fellows count ! (also, lady, only ten years old? - I resent that).

Goh understands this?? he’s got a silly proud smile and it’s following Ash’s butchered storytelling??? love 

research fellows count ! 

perfectly attainable dream 

sure, go for it.  (look at both of their supportive lil smiles, we love best friends) 

we all know the scene that’s coming ahead, but I thought this was a beautiful demonstration of growth already on Goh’s side.

Listen before the sad part begins let us appreciate for a moment how Ash and Goh were smiling at EACH OTHER after the interview was over. cuties. 

behold : the last frame we have of baby Sobble. I’m going to miss you, bean. thank you for everything<3 (he was so proud of his good deed as well!! my very heart) 

just how fast the night changes, indeed.

Drizzle went through shock and pain at record speed and swiftly landed on anger - only to fall into ✨depression✨ just as quickly.

and then we just stayed there.

someone 

is 

(oh hey Cinderace ! good to see ya)

having  

a rough morning

 (I’m sorry, this scene was just fucking funny - the drama)

Cinderace’s proud big bro moment was just too sweet to leave out - let us not forget, he’s been a big bro since he was Raboot (and even as a temperamental Raboot, he was always gentle to Sobble). And now his baby bro has evolved as well. precious ! 

Goh handled this situation very maturely from the beginning. And here’s when the build up starts. He’s saying ‘hey, let me help you how I think you need to be helped” and he genuinely doesn’t mean any harm! naturally, his reaction is to help his Pokémon, in the way that has worked in the past.

but then he starts to understand maybe that’s not the best approach this time around.

and he’s ready to respect those new boundaries (of course, there’s no blame on Cinderace, either. Much like Goh, he - and everyone, really - was just trying to help in the way he thought was the best).

shoutout to the animation on this bit because Pikachu’s ears darting down was a delightful detail. Chloe’s expression and Grookey’s simmering down drove the point home as well.

ah, you coy little thing. Did you forget how your trainer almost left you behind because of how rebellious you were??? Because you made him feel as though you’d be better off without him?? (Cinderace has selective memory, you can’t change my mind, don’t be miss-leaded by the cuteness)

this build up was wonderful - we begin to hear all these reasons why, yeah? maybe he just wants to be alone.

maybe he’s still very afraid and careful of his surroundings, and his evolution made it worse? (he’d been popping up in random places in previous episodes, hiding, which was also great foreshadowing for this episode !) 

maybe he’s cocooning himself until he’s ready to evolve again? (which, considering his disappointment and how badly he wanted to be Inteleon already, is a very plausible reason)

but Prof. Cerise gets it right when he says ‘we can’t really know for sure’ (which ties greatly with Goh’s upcoming scene) - is it your Drizzle’s quirk? are they all like this? who cares? Isn’t wonderful how he’s a living creature? how he’s got nuances and a personality? shouldn’t that be enough of a reason to look after him, and try to help him right now?

my child, still thinking he’s got to do everything on his own.

and these two are just like ????? Goh ??? watchu talking about ???

can you imagine how MUCH this moment means to him?? he was ready to keep going alone (it’s what he knows) and even when Ash and Chloe prove him, time and time again, that he’s not alone, there’s still something in Goh coded to believe others won’t care as much/won’t be there when he needs them. and that’s why he insists: I’ve got this. I can do it alone.

and, sure, but you don’t have to. that’s the beauty of friendship.

you tell him, Chloe. (actually, without Chloe calling him out, he might have taken longer to figure out where Drizzle was. so...) // but also, it gives us a glimpse into the fact that, while Goh might have felt very lonely, Chloe has been observing and caring for him - in her way - for a long minute as well.

my very point above. 

HEY, LISTEN: he doesn’t know, either. he’s a child, words are hard, and you rotate along the four moods of childhood (happy, upset, scared, hungry (?)) and don’t ponder much on anything else because you are a child, there’s no emotional intelligence to speak of, no need for it, you’re being shaped by your environment and all the stimuli of the world being a new place. things like loneliness, confusion, anxiety... we can’t put those into words - hell, they’re fucking abstract and confusing even when we are adults.

and Goh’s stimuli and environment was, given what we know of his family life, a rather lonely one. Did his parents have a lot of spare time to take him to the park? I don’t think so. Was he good at going out there and asking other kids to play? ... probably not. 

Chloe doesn’t strike me as an extrovert, either, so even if she wanted to get close to Goh or invite him to hang out, perhaps she was too shy as well. Heck, perhaps Goh’s reaction would’ve been like the one above, he simply didn’t know. Maybe he didn’t want to ! and that’s perfectly fine as well.

am I forgiving the anipoke team for making Goh cry? no, never. but this was beautifully executed so I can grow to live with it.

“why are you depressed?” “you have nothing to be sad about!” “look at all the wonderful things you have!” “just be happy again!” - sound familiar? yeah, this was incredibly well done.

as adults, perhaps we see this and think ‘shit, how cool that they’re prodding on these topics, it’s important’ and it is !!! so important !! but if it’s this impactful as young-adults/grown-ups, imagine how impactful it must be as a child to see this and feel perceived. I’m honestly so proud of this moment, this whole episode. I’m grateful they took the time to look into this maturely. and even if children don’t do a full-fledged analysis on it, if they relate (like I know so many of us did) they won’t forget it. and that’s beautiful.

darling I’m blanking on your TW handle I’m so sorry - but someone in a tweet SO RIGHTFULLY pointed out that these are the words Goh would have needed to hear when he was younger. saying them to Drizzle it’s a full circle moment for him, he’s hearing them as well, and it’s helping both of them grow.

He’s not forcing himself as Drizzle’s trainer. Goh bears no entitlement here. He’s saying ‘Hey, if you’re comfortable, if you want to share , I’ll be here’ / as a kid, people did care for him, they kept wanting to know what was going on, but Goh couldn’t put that in words and people pestering him only made it worse, but if someone had said ‘hey, when you’re ready...’ then,,,,yeah,,,,maybe it would’ve been different. 

he’s offering that safety now to his Pokémon, something he didn’t have, but he grew to understand is what he (and now Drizzle) needed. If that doesn’t have you breaking down in a teary mess then you are stronger than I’ll ever be, because my glasses were cloudy by this point.

why, why, why. because you needed to hear all that as well, baby! so did a number of us. thank you.

I’ll say that, however it was that you connected with this moment, that’s yours to cherish. 

Personally, I too had a lonely childhood marked by parents who overworked, and I too spent a lot of time alone in kindergarten and through elementary school because it was hard to make friends (turns out i’m an extrovert, ha, talk about breaking out of your shell...) so, obviously there were easy common grounds for me in this episode.

but I LOVED to read the reactions and realize so many people still connected with it, one way or the other. So many of us felt seen and understood and acknowledged in emotions that are so hard to put into words !! 

so, again, if you identified with Goh or Drizzle or any of the topics in this episode, that’s very beautiful, and I hope the underlying message that you’re not alone gets through.

With Sobble, and now with Drizzle as well, Goh is very adamant to remind us that, however we are, that’s fine. there’s something that makes us special, regardless of other people’s opinions, or their ideas of how we *should be* // that’s the message I’m taking with me, at least.

 and i can’t wait to see how this story line evolves !! I have no doubts that, when the moment comes, Inteleon will be a wonderful addition to the team, but Drizzle is here now, and he’s plenty wonderful already x

Bonus: 

ha ha, yes. I watched this episode three times. And all three times I was a mess.

side note but a very important one: the animation, the voice acting, the dialog, the scenery of the starry night - the entire scene was so beautifully executed. so  carefully crafted. ugh, amazing. just perfect. so happy.

[delimeful]

taking the fall (1)

BTHB: Framed

decided to return to my borrower roots for this BTHB prompt! it was fun to work in a 'verse like this again.

warnings: snakes, injury, captivity, janus being a little bit of a prick, using 'it' for a person

-

Virgil should have known something was up from the moment Roman wasn’t there to greet him at their normal rendezvous point.

It was a little alcove between the roots of a sapling on the border between the oversized apartment building and the small forest Virgil called home. The perfect compromise for soft insiders that were terrified of local wildlife and outies like him that wouldn’t be caught dead in a human building.

He’d waited there for about two marks after their normal arranged meeting time, and when someone had finally arrived, he’d been on the brink of irritability. It hadn’t lasted long, not in the face of the other borrower’s clear panic and weariness.

“What’s going on?” he’d asked, and was then treated to a rambling, half-incoherent explanation about how Roman was desperately sick and hurt, and they couldn’t find any human medicine but they knew he had to have something up his sleeve, right?

He’d tried to ask for symptoms, make it clear that he would have to figure out exactly how sick Roman was before finding the necessary herbs to treat it, but the other borrower-- what was her name? Elli? Ari?-- was persistent and desperate, and hurried him into the apartment despite his protests. He’d even had to leave his spear behind to fit in the walls properly.

Despite his complaints, he wouldn’t leave a friend in need just because they were stuck in a bean’s walls. So he went, and he was so intent on mentally taking stock of his current medicine supply that he only barely noticed when the insider-- Mari? That sounded closer.-- led him to a crack in the wallpaper that led directly into one of the human’s homes.

He’d dug in his heels there, but only for as long as it took her to weave a story about Roman being stuck under a television stand and too weak to be towed back to the nearest exit. Like an idiot, he’d believed it, too consumed with worry to question her further. If Roman, master of putting up a facade of bravado, had admitted he didn’t think he could make it to an exit, things were worse than he thought.

He’d swallowed down his nerves about being so out of his comfort zone in the name of helping Roman and maybe even doing something that would make the insiders stop looking at him like something scraped off a human’s shoe. Relatively speaking, he’d felt pretty good about it even.

Then, as they sidestepped past the faucet in the kitchen, a pair of hands firmly shoved against his back, hard enough that he didn’t have a chance to recover.

And now he was here, in the bottom of a human’s shiny, slick-sided sink, leg throbbing, looking up at the insider who’d put him there.

“Sorry,” she had the gall to say, “but I don’t have any other choice.”

Virgil may have been gritting his teeth against the pain, but he always had time to snark. “Really? You hate me so much that you had to do all this?” Insiders. Couldn’t even get their own hands dirty.

“What? No.” The borrower’s expression was hard to make out from all the way up on the counter, but her tone was incredulous. “No, I just needed-- I was seen. You get it?”

“I get that you’re out of your mind,” he bit back. “Don’t you people have a rule for that? I thought you were supposed to move out, not push someone into a sink!”

“It’s hardly even spring, and we don’t have enough supplies to make it!” the backstabber protested. “We’re not outies, and if this human doesn’t get what he wants, he could call pest control on all of us, not just me. He threatened it, even.”

“So that makes it okay to offer me up like some sacrificial lamb?” Virgil rolled onto hands and knees, and then bit back a whimper as he hurriedly kept all pressure off his left leg. Standing was out of the question.  

“It’s for the good of all of us. And if you ever cared about Roman even a little bit, you’ll follow our rules for once and keep your mouth shut when he finds you.”

Virgil went still. “Was he in on this? Roman?”

Mari’s voice turned sorrowful. “Roman’s already gone. He was the first one to vanish, probably to this very human and his wretched snakes.”

“Snakes?” Virgil asked, his voice pitching embarrassingly high. And then, as his heart dropped, “Roman’s gone?”

Mari continued on, half to herself. “If he were still here, though, he’d be on my side. I don't know what he was thinking, cavorting around with you, but he knows that I’m just doing what’s best for the colony. We have children to look after.”

She took a step forward as she spoke, and then another, and Virgil felt his heart jump into his throat. “Don’t leave!”

He bristled helplessly at the pity-filled look she gave him, not halting her slow progression back across the counter ledge. “Like I said, it’s for the best. You’re not getting out of this, and me staying here would just give you false hope. I’m sure the human will be home soon, so just… try and come to terms with things.”

“Come to terms with things?!” Virgil howled as she finally vanished from sight. “You’re literally leaving me here to certain death for your own selfish ends! I could… I could help you move. I know how to travel safely, find food, for thunder’s sake don’t just leave me here!”

There was no response to his pleas, not even the sound of her footsteps across the counter. Roman wore soft cloth coverings to muffle his footsteps, Virgil remembered somewhat hysterically. He couldn't remember how far the exit was. How reassuring that even if he managed to get out of the sink, he wouldn’t know the first thing about surviving in a human house.

He was so fucked.

---

Janus sighed as he shoved his apartment door up slightly, twisting the knob and pushing it open so that the hinges didn’t make a sound. His footsteps were immediately muffled by the rug he’d placed at the door.

Just a few of the… security measures he’d come up with.

Really, if the little thieves living in the walls had any brains at all, they should’ve long ago memorized his schedule. Seeing as they avoided his traps so effectively, he didn’t have much hope of randomly catching one unawares.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t try. If he was lucky, he would at least unsettle them with how stealthy he could be.

Four steps into the living room, he heard it. A tiny clink, just barely audible past the fan lazily rotating overhead. It was coming from the kitchen.

He set his bag down, a disbelieving smile flitting over his face. Were they really that stupid, to steal food from his apartment when there were safer targets in practically any of the other units?

All the better for him, he supposed.

Carefully, slowly, he approached the other room, pausing to listen in the doorway. He didn’t see any movement on the counters, but…

Miracle of miracles, the noise came again. Janus recognized it this time— the sound of glass on metal. It was a dish being moved in the sink. He wondered for a moment if maybe it was just a small animal that had snuck in. Why would one of them be in the sink, after all?

He crept closer, and peered over the edge of the counter. Despite his doubts, it was a tiny person, slowly pushing one of the crumb-covered dishes towards the other side of the sink, where a small tower of dishware was building up. Janus couldn’t see a hook. The little creature didn’t seem to have any supplies at all, actually.

“Stuck, are we?” he asked, finally breaking his silence.

The tiny person jumped like a startled cat, and in the next moment, they were already trying to scramble up the makeshift stairs to freedom. Janus reached out and grabbed one of the glasses in the sink, plonking it over the little creature. “Not so fast.”

He took a moment to lean against the counter and observe them closer as they backed up to the far edge of the cup. Clearly handmade clothing, dark hair and sun-tanned skin, a badly-hidden limp from some injury in their left leg.

“You're not the one from before,” he mused out loud. “I don’t think they’d be dumb enough to trap themselves like this.”

That tiny expression darkened for a moment, but still not a word. Janus sighed, and decided that this was going to require more preparation than a glass, unless he wanted to suffocate the tiny stranger. He straightened up and walked out of the kitchen without a word.

One closet-scouring later, he’d found his prize and set it up in his bedroom, with only a little extra decoration for mockery purposes.

When he returned, the tiny person was pretending not to have moved, though the glass had clearly been shifted perilously close to the edge of the plate. Janus wasted no time in picking up the plate, glass, and passenger.

The tiny stranger dropped to hands and knees to brace themself, and Janus did try to make sure his steps were smooth so as to not agitate their wound. He wasn’t a complete monster.

Once he reached his room, it was simple enough to transfer them from the glass to the old terrarium he’d prepared. They made a lunge for his sleeves, as though to latch on, but between their injured state and Janus’s experience with snakes, he was quick enough to avoid them.

He clicked his tongue, but the moment he’d removed himself from the terrarium, the tiny person had ceased to focus on him completely. They immediately hobbled to press their back against the glass, staring at the fake plastic plants inside as though… Hm.

Janus tapped the glass, eliciting a flinch-glare combination. “There’s nothing alive in there but you. Relax a little.”

If looks could kill, Janus would have been dead twice over. He ignored the glare. “I know you can talk, so let’s skip the part where you pretend to be mute, shall we? You’re a new face, but I’m assuming you know who I am.”

Still no response. Janus rolled his eyes. “I suppose I don’t need you to be talkative if I’m going to be using you as a hostage.”

—-

Virgil couldn’t help the harsh laugh that bubbled out of him, shaking his head sharply like that would reverse the sound. What a joke.

“Care to share?” That oil-slick voice again.

The human looming over him waited patiently for an explanation, and Virgil scowled. He couldn’t imagine that Roman had done well under such pressure. The guy loved the sound of his own voice.

The thought felt harsher, now that he knew Roman was… dead. He’d never hear him again.

He shuddered, glancing back over his shoulder at the fake greenery around him. If this wasn’t where the snakes were kept, then where were they?

It occurred to him that he could ask. What was stopping him? Loyalty to rules that had already been broken? To someone who had already been killed by this very human?  

“The snakes,” he said, voice barely there. He tried again. “Where are the snakes?”

“Oh? You know about them,” the human seemed pleased, sickeningly enough. “How about this, you answer my question, and I’ll answer yours.”

Virgil hesitated, but it wasn’t like the answer was giving all that much away. “You found me in a sink. No gear. Injured. You think the ones who put me there are going to give you anything? I’m not some valuable hostage. Just let me go.”

"I see." The human’s face had shifted somewhat, but it only assessed him for a moment longer before turning to the large, glass boxes nearby. It reached into one.

“They outgrew that old terrarium years ago, now I’ve got a much fancier set for them over here.”

The sentence seemed like nonsense, until the human returned with a snake wrapped around its wrist. Virgil froze, staring at the vibrant green coils as they shifted.

“This is Jekyll,” the human said, as though Virgil cared to be introduced to those beady yellow eyes. Though, it didn’t look large enough to eat an entire borrower. Virgil had faced larger garden snakes. “He’s the timid sort, no claim to the doctor title unfortunately.”

He watched the human rummage around in the other terrarium, and come back out with a much larger snake. He felt the blood drain from his face as the pale, patterned snake was brought closer.

“And this,” the human said, carefully running a finger along it's spine, “is Hyde. She’s a little moodier, as boas tend to be.”  

Virgil slowly shifted back, knowing logically that there was glass between him and the creature, but also that the human could change that at any time. Had changed it, in Roman’s case. It was only a matter of when.

The human tracked his motion, head tilted in an uncanny parody of his snakes.

“I don’t let them wander loose in the household,” it said, finally. “They won't hurt you, despite what your friends may have told you.”

I only had one friend, Virgil thought, not stopping until he’d found the back corner of the cage, and that’s exactly why I don’t believe you.

He drew his limbs up around himself, silent, and waited until the human finally left him alone to start tending his wounds.

The more advantages he had for his escape, the better.

[desiraypark]

Ominous (Part 4)

Part I | Part II | Part III

CHARACTERS: Adam Sackler, Brenda “Bree” Sackler, Tako, and Patrice (OC - Tako’s fiancée/wife) CONTENT: Flashbacks, Fluff, Angst, Addiction Mentions, Tough Talk, Sex Implied, Use of the B-word (B*tches)

Tako and Patrice’s Townhome Bree’s Previous Apartment (2BR, 1BA)

FOUR YEARS AGO (Tako and Patrice’s Engagement Party)

“You’re so fucking in love, dude!” Tako exclaimed as she punched Adam in the chest.

Adam laughed as he twisted the cap off a small bottle of water and Tako made herself another plate of food. 

“I’ve never seen you like this. You’re all calm and cool. Leaning against shit like you’re fucking Frank Sinatra.”

Adam shook his head and took a sip of water. Looking beyond the bottom of the bottle, he got a glimpse at Bree in the living room talking with Tako’s fiancée, Patrice. They were certainly talking about Bree’s outfit--a pink and yellow jumpsuit that she’d made herself. The spaghetti-strapped top was split in half--yellow on the left side of her body, pink on the right. Her right pants leg was yellow, the left one pink. The bright, summery colors popped against her brown skin. She’d traded in her eyeglasses for contact lenses for the night, and her curly hair fell to her shoulders.

“See!” Tako beamed. She added a spoonful of sliced strawberries to her plate. “Tell me what she knows and doesn’t know about you before I accidentally spill some fucking beans.”

Tako leaned against the counter beside Adam and he shrugged. “She knows everything.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Everything?”

“Y-yeah. Pretty much.”

“She knows about...you know. The alcohol?”

Adam nodded. “Yes.”

“She knows that you’re a slut?”

“Reformed slut. And she kinda knows...”

“Kinda knows?” Tako asked, popping a cheese cube into her mouth. Adam rotated the bottled water between his palms.

“I wanted to talk about it, but she said she didn’t care. So...”

Tako raised both eyebrows. “Wow. I don’t know if I’m impressed or worried.”

Adam laughed. “Bree is...she’s easily the most easygoing...the most understanding...the most thoughtful girl I’ve ever dated...”

“Well, then. I’m happy for you, kid.”

Adam stole a strawberry from Tako’s plate and softly elbowed her in the rib.

____________________ PRESENT Adam stood at the counter eating leftover spaghetti. Her hair tied in a silk scarf and a sheer robe flowing behind her, Patrice walked into the kitchen, bringing flames with her.

“Why don’t you sit at the table?” she asked coldly. She opened the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water. 

Adam shrugged. “I’m almost done.”

Patrice closed the robe around her body, covering her silk pajamas. Adam’s eyes inadvertently landed on the red slushy maker that he and Bree bought them as a wedding gift. He quickly looked back down at his plate, and Patrice left the kitchen, leaving her unmistakable heat for him to simmer in.

He’d cleaned his paper plate and dropped it in the trash can when Tako walked by with pieces of bedding in her arm. He turned off the kitchen light and walked into the living room, where she’d placed two sheets and a blanket on the sofa. Then, she placed the Roku remote on top of it. 

“We usually unplug everything at nine, but here’s the remote if you wanna watch TV. Or listen to some music. Whatever.”

“How pissed is Patrice?” Adam asked. 

“PATRICE IS VERY PISSED!” Patrice shouted from their bedroom.

The corner of Tako’s mouth quirked as if you to say “there you have it”. Adam sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. 

Tako tilted her head to the left and Adam followed her past their bedroom, where Patrice was pulling back the covers. They walked past the bedroom of Jason--Tako and Patrice’s eight-month-old son. Adam’s heart began to pound and a lump formed in his throat. This was supposed to be him and Bree, only they would live in a house away from the city.

Adam was happy to commute to work if it meant that Bree could have her own quaint boutique in some quaint shopping district in some quaint town. They were going to have two or three kids, a dog, and a backyard for them all to run around in. He had to make things right. He wanted Bree and wanted the future they’d planned. 

Tako led him into the small home office and closed the door. She sat in the rolling chair and Adam sat in a wingback chair by the door, against the wall. 

“So...who was it?” she asked. 

Adam rubbed his temples. “Jessa.”

“Fuck, dude...”

“Yeah, I know. I fucking know,” Adam groaned, sliding down into the chair. “I don’t know what the fuck happened.”

“I mean, are you still in love with Jessa, or...?”

“No, I’m not. I’ve barely thought about her for years.”

“Is something going on with you and Bree...?”

“No,” Adam mumbled. He leaned forward and placed his head in his hands. Then, he sat back up. “Bree is perfect.”

He shrugged. “She’s perfect. I don’t know. I don’t know why I did it.”

Tako stared straight through Adam. She folded her arms and tapped her fingertips on her arm. Adam pressed his back against the chair and exhaled.

“We got some coffee and we just started talking. It felt like old times again. We went to my place and talked some more...”

“Your place?!” Tako asked.

Guilt rushed over Adam’s face and Tako held her hands up. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Go on.”

“That’s it. We talked some more. I showed her the apartment, you know. The view. Next thing I knew...”

Adam rested his head against the wall and Tako just stared at him. “You want it hard or you want it soft?”

“Whatever,” Adam scoffed. “I don’t care.”

Tako leaned forward against the desk. She gathered her thoughts before she spoke. 

“You talked so much shit about the girls you’ve dated. Hannah, Jessa. FiFi?”

“MiMi Rose,” Adam corrected.

“Yeah, her,” Tako continued. “You talked so much about how much they thrived off drama. You know what I think? I think you thrive off that shit, too.”

“No I fucking don’t,” Adam snapped.

“Then what is it? Tell me? You’ve got a wife who--from what you tell me--has done more for you than all of those bitches combined. She’s fucking hot--she’s the nicest fucking person I’ve ever met. She’s honest--she’s all the shit you claim you like--and you risked your marriage to her for Jessa? I’m just not understanding, Adam.”

Adam ran his fingers through his hair again and stared at the ceiling.

____________________ THREE YEARS AGO

“Ughhhh,” Adam groaned. He wrapped his arms around Bree’s waist as she dug through her closet. “Do you have to go?”

Bree chuckled. “Yes, I have to go.”

Adam nuzzled at her neck as she looked over a green dress. “It’ll only be a few days, babe.”

Bree hung the dress back up and pulled out a burgundy one. Adam groaned again and Bree grabbed a pink dress.

“A few days is too long,” he mumbled. He stood up straight and stepped backward to sit down on Bree’s bed. “I hate being away from you for just a day.”

Bree folded the pink dress over her arm and looked at Adam. She could see the genuine sadness in his face. Then, she walked over to him, placed the dress on the bed, and rested her hands against his shoulders. Adam opened his legs and pulled Bree close--his arms resting comfortably on the sharp curve of her ass.

“Are you serious right now?” Bree asked softly. She ran her fingers through his hair.

“I don’t like separations,” Adam said with a pout. He pressed kisses against the fabric over her navel and took in the sugary scent of her lotion. “I like being around you. All the time.”

“Baby,” Bree said softly. She lifted Adam’s face by his chin. She gazed upon his darkened eyes--noticing the glints of amber as they partially met the light of the ceiling lamp overhead. She kept running her fingers through his hair, thinking carefully about her words.

“I love you.”

Adam chewed on his lips and stared into Bree’s eyes--coffee irises protected by long, thick lashes. “I love you, too.”

“...I don’t want you to...”

“Don’t want me to what?”

“I don’t want you to make a drug out of me,” she said. 

Adam’s eyes stayed on Bree. Finally, he blinked. “What?”

Bree sighed and shook her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

She tried to pull away but Adam pulled her close. “No. I know what you mean.” He kissed her belly again. “I know what you mean.”

Bree bent down and kissed Adam’s forehead. “I’m so proud of you. Things have been so good for you.”

Then, she sat back up and pinched his cheeks.

“You’re a big boy, aren’t you?” she asked in a high pitched voice. Adam rolled his eyes and looked away. “You can survive a few days without Mommy, can’t you?”

A devilish grin formed on Adam’s face and he pulled Bree down onto the bed with him, making her squeal. 

“You’re a fucking comedian, now?" he asked. He locked his legs around hers, trapping her body against his and making her laugh. Suddenly, they fell silent and looked into each other’s eyes again. Bree lowered her head and kissed Adam’s on the lips.

“You’ve gotta bring me some fucking Al Capone merch or some shit,” Adam said. Bree chuckled.

“I am not buying Al Capone merch. How about I bring you a few slices of deep-dish pizza?”

“You know that I’m trying to eat healthy,” Adam growled, squeezing Bree’s ass. 

“I forgot, I’m sorry. Well, how about this...” Bree mumbled, running her finger down Adam’s lips, to his chin, and down his neck. “When I get back...”

Bree reached behind her and pushed Adam’s palm deeper against her right ass cheek. “...I’ll bring you a nice organic treat. You can eat it for as long as you want.”

Adam bit his lips, closed his eyes, and exhaled through his nostrils. After a brief pause, he flipped Bree over so that he was on top of her. Her laugh filled the room as he tugged at her pajama shorts.

“I have to finish packing!” she squealed.

“You’ll finish when I finish,” Adam said, sliding down the bed and onto his knees.

____________________ PRESENT

Wrapped in a Christmas-themed throw blanket, Bree sat on the sofa, staring at the television without a single clue as to what was happening on it. She thought about the assortment of desserts that she passed on at the pizzeria. She regretted not ordering an entire pie to bring home. The city lights shimmered in the distance--for she didn’t have the strength or desire to pull down the shades. She wondered where Adam was. Tako and Patrice’s? Ray’s?

Jessa’s?

She shook the thought out of her head. Her eyes landed upon her wedding photo. He wore a blue tuxedo and (much to her mother’s chagrin) she wore a flowing yellow. Bree rose from the sofa, walked to the console, and stared at the photo--he was hunched over and her arms were around his neck as they engaged in a soft kiss. Bree put the framed photo face down, returned to the sofa, and turned off the television.

Then, she fluffed the caseless pillow on the left end of the sofa and laid her head upon it. She curled up in a ball and pulled the throw blanket close to her chin. 

Suddenly, the shadowy figure of a woman formed on her balcony. Bree turned to face the inside back of the sofa and pulled the blanket completely over her face.

[docholligay]

An Overwatch Christmas Carol: Stave I-- Morrison’s Ghost

All thanks for the sponsorship to @keyofjetwolf. 4,500 words 

Jack Morrison was dead, to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. HIs death was registered in both the United Kingdom and the United States, and his small pittance of a savings account and a life given over to a quick signature. Jack Morrison was as dead as a door-nail. 

Wilhelm Reinhardt was dead, to begin with. Died that same grey and cloudy day in a pile of rubble. His coffin, sent to the Lindholm family plot in Sweden, with nary a stir from the occupant, and buried there, a name carved in stone, dead as the man below it. 

Lena Oxton was dead, to begin with, though her grave had not yet even sunk into the ground, dirt still piled high over the top of it, but please know that it was no less sure, that she was dead. Angela Zeigler had pronounced her herself, and while a bit harried, these last months, she was never one to miss a heartbeat. 

No, all of them were dead, when our story begins. 

Did Ana know they were dead? Of course she did! Ana was Jack’s partner and roommate and perhaps sole great friend in this earth, and Reinhardt was her sometimes companion and always admirer, and the silence of Tracer ever missing from a room was impossible to ignore. She saw their pictures hung in the Overwatch headquarters, having given their lives in the pursuit of making the world they occupied a better one. 

Besides all that, she was no great fool in matters of the mind, however you might find her in matters of the heart, once I allow the tale to truly begin. 

And so, you might say, why all the preamble? Why not let the story speak for itself? Well, I tell you this, because if you do not remember that our assembled parties have all taken their last breath long before this day, nothing wonderful can come of the story laid before you here. 

But enough. This is a story you know, and a story you do not know, and like all stories known and unknown it begins with a hero, or perhaps a villain, or, in the best stories of all, simply a main character, with affiliation to good and evil fleeting and half-decided. 

So brings us to Ana Amari. 

There are people, in this world, immediately assured of their own correctness, and Ana was one of them. This is not to say that she thought of herself as having done everything in the most perfect way possible, or that there had never been something that might have gone differently, given different choices, but simply that she had nothing on this earth for which to apologize. Ana was a child of revolution and struggle, and it was well known that all people did what they had to do, and she had always and ever done that. 

Ana was a genius in some respects, as most of us are, and a particular point of her genius was her ability to justify everything she had ever done as being rooted in a good idea, an impossible choice only she was willing to make, and her skill in deciding others were simply looking for someone to blame.She had changed, she reasoned, in the way many people who fail to see the original problem do. The balance of power no longer held her, and her child was grown, and these changed circumstances allowed her to believe that it was a changed self. 

Ana moved through her life as if she were on trial, every conversation twisted into something that made her into a criminal. She would not be forced to speak against her own effort, and so she antagonized and snapped and refused to answer. They would not force her to admit guilt, to imprison herself. 

Only the weak did such things. 

It was a terribly chill December day, and the grey pall of a London winter cast out of the city as she moved to the cafe on her side of the Thames. She watched London always--she had never learned quite how to not pay attention to every given moment and movement--looking at the people who passed by, their clothing and manner changing as she moved through the city. 

The city was dressed up for Christmas, tinsel in windows, softly glowing lights strung up inexpertly, banners of evergreen strung over the streets as the inhabitants of the areas got richer. Happy Christmases were exchanged along the street between shopkeepers and customers, acting as if they knew or cared for each other at all. It was not a time of year Ana especially relished, not so much for the fact that she had never celebrated it herself, though she did not and would not, but for the fact that it reminded her even more keenly of a universally held truth. 

They were fragile. Londoners were mostly spoiled children who had no idea of what a harsh life might look like. The Omnics had come, those years ago, but they had not needed to rebuild a society out of the flames of the old one. They did not know what it was to have to be strong. To be firm. They were the sorts of people who let a date on a calendar upend their entire lives, pretending at all these childlike ideas. Take away some ridiculous pudding, and the whole of society might collapse. 

A mother crouched down by her daughter on the sidewalk, holding her small hand and telling her that it was was very disappointing when we couldn’t get a little cake to take home, she understood. 

Ana chuffed and shook her head as she walked by, her mental point proven. This was how children were prepared for the world to listen, to give them what they wanted. To hide from them the fact that sacrifice was demanded of people who wanted any good to come of it. It was no question that the sorts of people who attempted to empathize with a four year old’s want of pastry couldn’t understand Ana. 

In some ways, she found comfort in this. If people accustomed to the plush robes of a gentle life could not understand her, it was merely that they did not understand the sort of things that needed to be done. She almost could not fault them, though she certainly found occasion to do so anyhow. Sheep do not understand the sheepdog.  People like her were made to protect the world for people who did not have the strength to be like her, to do difficult things.

The cafe was a simple affair with a black awning, and in summers, Ana imagined there must be plenty of seating on the sidewalk in summer, but now there were only a few small tables crowded into the place, covered in a red gingham plastic. Black and white photography covered the walls, every square inch devoted to a memory that was certainly somewhat different from the lived experience of it. It smelled of bacon and beans and eggs, and it didn’t make much sense for Ana to be there, but the coffee was some of the most competent she’d found, the prices were right, and the English insistence on beans at breakfast was one of the few sensible things about them, this place preparing them with a bit of cheddar, if lacking much else by way of seasoning. They had a ready selection of newspapers, it was at nearly the halfway point between her apartment and her work, and she was accustomed to her little spot in the corner. 

Today, there was somebody in it. Not a tourist, but perhaps worse. A blonde woman with a round, almost dollish face, and bright blue eyes, a cozy pink sweater wrapping her like a blanket. 

Ana found sentimentality a crime, regret a worse one, and found weakness in softness. For these reasons, Ana Amari had never particularly bonded with Mercy, who had encompassed all of these things from the first time Ana had met her. She was a brilliant doctor, and few people could reasonably say otherwise. Her work was integral to the development of several new weapons. She was a private physician to Overwatch’s most complex cases. She was all of this, and Ana could admit it, but she was also the sort of person who cried in her office at times, who questioned the good of what they were doing because the means made her uncomfortable, the sort of person who let her heart overtake. Mercy was as bad as Moira, in her own way, Tracer had once struck her for saying, even if it was true. 

All of this might have been complicated enough, but then, while Ana was temporarily dead, Mercy had gone and married her daughter. 

Mercy sat looking at Ana with a small smile on her face, hands folded in her lap and what seemed to be salmon on toast in front of her. Across the table, there was a steaming cup of coffee and a plate of beans with cheese on toast. 

“I asked them what it was you were ordering every day.” Mercy nodded. “They know you very well.” 

Ana closed her eye and sighed. Mercy never knew when to leave anything alone. Which might have been fine, if she had ever bent Pharah’s ear to understanding what Ana had done was all to the good. But she seemed to constantly be needling Ana to apologize, to reach out to Pharah. When was it going to be Pharah’s responsibility to admit that she was wrong? The she had never tried to understand her mother? 

“Do I look like I need you to buy me breakfast?” She stood, looking down at Mercy, who shook her head. 

“Ana, please. Sit?” 

“I don’t know what possibly we could share here.” But she sighed and sat down anyway. At least there was breakfast, and the order was right. “But go on.” 

Mercy nodded hopefully. “The baby is doing well, the doctor tells me,” she gave a small giggle, looking off away from Ana, “Though, I am not needing too much input, I remember my rotation and have been studying up. A new mother’s anxiety, it must be, you know how that feels.” 

Ana took a drink of her coffee. “I was running an operation to my eighth month. But then,” she shrugged, “ I was so much younger. Less to worry about.” 

She looked back to Ana a moment, and then looked down at her salmon toast. “Yes. We have....we want this very badly, so I am, more nervous.” 

Ana said nothing, simply began to eat her beans and sip at her coffee.

“Ana,” Mercy straightened her back, “I was thinking. Wondering. If you’d like to come for dinner, on Christmas.” 

Ana looked over at her with a long, flat stare. 

“Not to celebrate! But, we always, everything is closed, and, Fareeha is making a wonderful dinner, we watch movies, you would be alone, and with it almost being Fareeha’s birthday,” She leaned forward, “And the new year, there are so many changes that will be coming. I thought that, maybe, since there are so many new things--.”

Ana set down her fork with a high clink, and chuckled. “Now we get to it. What do you want?” 

“Nothing. For me. Ana, you can snap at me, and be--be dismissive of me, all you are wanting for the rest of your life, that was before Fareeha, even, but I love her--” 

“You have never understood things between me and Fareeha. You can’t.” 

“All you would need to be doing is apologizing. Things have been,” Mercy gave a little sigh, “Fareeha, I think, would forgive you, if you tried. With the baby, and with the sadness of Lena--” 

Ana chuckled. “Just because you will hold my grandchild hostage doesn’t mean I’ll apologize, Angela,” she shook her head, “I did what I had to do. There is absolutely nothing to forgive. Just because Fareeha refuses to understand, does not, even for a minute, mean I will bend my knee to--” 

Mercy stood up, hands balled at her sides. “Then--then don’t! I--” she lost the words a moment, tears streaming down her face, and she wiped at them, buying her face in her hands, “I was wanting to help you, is all of it! I want to help her! I want,” She let out a sob,  and continued, very softly, “My parents are dead, Ana. For our child, I was wanting…” She shook her head and wiped her eyes. “No. I will go, now. I won’t try again. You can...win, if you are thinking this is winning.” 

She stood up and smoothed the front of her skirt, puling the coat over her shoulders, tears still streaming down her face. Mercy was like this, Ana thought. She was soft, in all the ways Ana was happy she wasn’t, and she good too emotional about things, things that didn’t even really concern her. What she and Pharah had as problems, was her and Pharah’s business. 

As she moved to leave the table, dropping a few pound coins next to her coffee, she turned back, stopped, and then took one look back. 

“You, are a terrible person,” she jutted out her chin, feigning strength, “Fareeha deserved much better than you. But,” she took a deep breath, “I still hope she forgives you, someday. Someday, I hope you will deserve it.” 

Ana sat back in her chair, and picked up a newspaper. 

Ridiculous.

____________

Ana lived alone, now, in that tiny and dark apartment in Brixton with the two small bedrooms barely enough to be called such. It had never occurred to her to live anywhere else. The hallways were dark and dank in the best of times, but the place was cheap, and she didn’t need any kind of frills to entertain all the guests she didn’t have. 

There was a chill coming up the stairs, and Ana attributed it to the cool of the December air, wet and icy on her face, and the poor maintenance of the building. It hardly mattered. The hallway was dim and still, a lightbulb at the end of it flickering out the last of its life in some desperate Morse code Ana could not decipher. She turned to unlock the door, when her sniper’s eye caught the movement, just a little. 

She turned toward the flicker and shadow. Silence. Nothing. Of course nothing, this hallway was always quiet as the grave, small people in their small lives coming and going like mice nibbling for crumbs. Another flicker, and he was there. 

The dark shadow at the end of the hall, strong and bricked and dead for years. Darkness again.

Ana dropped her keys in the moment, and bent down to pick them up. Had she eaten today? Clearly she was seeing things, if she needed to--

She raised her head, and he was there, grey and dead and big as life, standing next to her. She did not even have the time to gasp before his mouth through open and emitted a yell of pain and agony and deep loneliness, one that cut into her spine and made her shiver. She jumped back to ready herself to fight, but another flicker and it was gone. Nothing there, just the dingy carpet that always had been. 

She took a slow breath. Another. 

“Ridiculous.” She opened the door and went into her apartment. 

It was spartan, only a few small things giving any identity to the people who had lived there at all. Ana had made few changes since Jack’s death, other than emptying out his bedroom not because she needed it so much as she wanted the memory gone. There were two pictures on the mantle. A small television. Two tea cups in the small area that passed for a kitchen. 

She was unnerved, no matter how much of a hallucination the incident in the hallway had been, and her training kicked in. She swept the place quietly, examining every space, every nook every corner for signs of life. There was nothing, nothing at all but the long shadows the light cast across the floor. 

Her shoulders relaxed. Of course there was nothing. She needed to eat something, was all, she was no longer young and could not rely upon her body in the same way she had. There was a carton of soup in the refrigerator, and she dumped it into a pot unceremoniously, stirring it until it boiled and she put it into a deep, wide mug that served as a bowl nowadays.

She turned off the unpleasant florescent overhead light, and flipped on her small lamp next to the couch, the one small bit of soft warmth in the place, something that had been her mother’s from a lifetime ago. There was a book on the table, though she likely couldn’t have told you what it was, simply something to wile away the hour while she ate her soup. 

Her only minor concession was the knife set upon the coffee table.

The night had been dark, but somehow grew darker, the shadows drawing into the room, as if night itself was being sucked into that tiny apartment that served as fortress for Ana’s personal war. Ana tried not to notice it, at first. It was silly. She was unnerved by the hallucination in the hallway, and part of that had probably been thinking about the past. It was quite natural to think of the past, when someone stalked you to your cafe and tried to wield it as a weapon. 

Then someone knocked at the door. 

She looked down at the knife, and went to grab it, and then Jack’s bedroom door started knocking too, and then her bedroom door, and the knocking continued, louder and louder and louder, echoing around her as the darkness closed into the room. 

Ana opened her mouth to yell, but nothing came out. 

It stopped. As suddenly as it had started, it stopped. 

Ana considered herself to be grounded and logical, as a person. She wasn’t given to flights of fancy, she didn’t see the world as she wished it were, and she knew what to believe with her own eye and her own sense of instinct. She had never doubted her senses, before. She was a creature that fully inhabited them, that required them to survive. The day she could no longer assess a situation would be the day she died. 

It nearly had been, years ago. 

But now a prickling doubt hung over her head, that she might be losing touch with those same protective senses, even in the silent darkness of her small apartment. Losing her edge. She had always assumed death would come first. It had for the rest of them. 

But there was no angel of death in the corners of this room, only the silence being broken by the sound of heavy, slow footsteps, coming from nowhere and everywhere at once. The floor creaked beneath the thing she could not see, and a low groan of pain and deep sorrow came echoed off the walls. 

Ana leapt to her feet, grabbing the knife off the table and exposing the blade. 

“You picked the wrong flat for this.” She growled. “I’ve had enough for today.” 

But the room was so small, Ana could not figure where the creeping, moaning, creaking came from. She looked behind the couch, only to find nothing. Behind her bedroom door, only shadows. Jack’s room had been closed since London, and it was windowless besides. But still the footsteps, and still the creaking, and still the sense of being watched. 

A face. 

Ana jumped into action, slashing at it quickly, sticking the blade where between the ribs would be, and coming up with only shadow and smoke in her hands. The face became a body, and the body took shape, even in the dull lamplight, as real as it was spectral, shimmering in the line between life and death. 

“Who are you?!” she barked, refusing fear. 

The ghost took full form now, a familiar shape against the darkness. “When I was alive, I was your partner. I was your best friend. I was your roommate, Ana. You know me.” 

The ghost glowered and Ana cocked her head slightly. It occurred to her, briefly, that she had also once been dead, but that was a different matter entirely. It couldn’t be. Jack had died in the Battle for London, she had selected how to deal with his body herself, she had seen him taken away and she had gone home to that same empty apartment that they had shared. She knew Jack. She had known Jack for more than 30 years. Jack was dead. These things she knew. 

“Ridiculous.” she spat.  “Impossible.”

And yet, it had to be. She moved closer to him as he looked at her, shaking his head in frustration and irritation at another one of Ana’s petty arguments. He did not wear his visor now, the shattered eyes he had only let her see fully visible in the shimmer of his presence. There were chains coming from him, dragging across his back and binding him, some attached to rocks, some attached to nails, all of them heavy, and hard, and he moved slowly even as he did not stop. 

“Jack? Jack.” Even his name sounded strange in her mouth. 

She nearly reached out to touch him, and then stopped herself. “No. No,” she waved him off, “This isn’t real.” 

There were ideas that were worse than losing your edge. 

He paced around the living room slowly. “Yeah, because you’ve always been a hallucinator. Why would this be fake? You don’t drink. You don’t do drugs.” 

“I buy sushi from Tesco. There’s the reason all itself.” Ana stopped at the side table, and sipped at her tea. “I have some sort of brain tapeworm from a fish. That is all, and I will go to bed, and, that will be all of it.” 

“Ana.” He said in that tone, that tone that was too close to real, that too carefully mimicked his annoyance and affection, “Come on now.” 

Ana sat down at the edge of the couch and looked over the chair near her. “Can you sit?” 

He shrugged. “Yeah, yeah, I can sit.” 

Jack, for lack of another thing to call him, did so, setting himself in the chair he had occupied so many times in life. Ana herself was still unsure that she believed any of it. 

“Chains? How dramatic.” She sipped at her tea, determined to be unruffled, even as a chill hit across her back. 

“I made these chains, and I’m stuck with them. I made them every single time I set myself apart, every time I used my work as an excuse to build a wall,” he indicated to the rock near his foot, “I build this myself, link by link, with my own excuses and my own behavior.” 

Ana leaned back. “Comfortable.”

“Don’t joke, Ana. You should see the chain you’re wearing.” He shook his head. “It’s too late for me, but it doesn’t have to be for you.” 

Ana sat a moment, looking into her tea, considering all that she had seen, considering the things in her life that she knew were impossible and yet were somehow, still possible. This could be so many things. It could be the beginnings of some mental illness. It could be a hallucination borne out of stress or loneliness. It could be the aforementioned Tesco. But it could also be real, and if it were real, than the world at larger had it all wrong about them. 

“You did what you had to do. To save the world. We both did.” She waved a hand and scoffed. “We gave up so much for it, and then they hated us for it. We never got any reprieve.” She leaned toward him, pointing, “We made the sacrifice.” 

Jack gave a weak chuckle. “Did we? Or was it just always easier to fight?” He smiled softly. “We could have had families. We could have...built connections. The crisis ended, but we never stopped being there. We forgot how to be people, me, and you, and Gabe.” 

“I--”

“You were the most important person I had.” Jack rose to his feet. “I’m here to help you. I don’t want this to happen to you.” 

“And how, exactly,” she raised an eyebrow, “Are you going to help me, with all of my supposed problems?” 

“There will be three spirits: The ghosts of Christmas Past, Present--”

She stood up, laughing. “Why Christmas? I don’t even celebrate Christmas. I’ve never celebrated Christmas. I--” 

“It’s for narrative structure, Ana. Call them the ghosts of Last Tuesday Past, I don’t--” 

She crossed her arms. “I don’t know why we need to--” 

He shook his head again, “You will be visited by three spirits, one tonight, at midnight--” 

“I don’t have time for this, have them all come at once, so I can go back to--”

“ANA!” He howled, and raged toward her and the force of it knocked her into the wall, those empty eyes burning, burning like coals in the darkness of his own death, “I am trying to help you! Do you want to die alone? Do you want to be completely separated from every human being? You can live a long time Ana, and start to realize it’s a hell, and all you’ll do is wait, and stare, at visitors that are never coming, and birthdays you’ll never celebrate, and you’ll know,” He pointed his finger in you’re face, “You’ll know! That you put yourself there.” 

“Jack…”

He sighed heavily and plopped into the chair, his hand at his temples. ‘While I was alive, I couldn’t help you, or save you. You were so damn--we--were so damn determined to put walls around ourselves, thick ones, like we were fortresses, and keep everyone else out. And we did a good fucking job, didn’t we? You and me, side by side, shooting down anyone who tried to come over.” He removed his hand but did not look at her, “When I died, who truly mourned me? You?” he chuckled, “Maybe not even that.” 

“I did.” 

She hated herself for saying it, at first, and knowing that it was true, and then there was a second, smaller hate there, one she could not place. 

“Okay. If you say so.” He looked out the window. ‘This isn’t a discussion. You’re going to be visited, and for God’s sake Ana, please just listen. I could never get you to listen. I...that’s all the time I have. Listen.” 

He stood up and stepped toward the window as if not under his own power, drifting more than walking toward the dark London night. Ana stumbled to her feet, confused and angry and afraid, calling after him. 

“Jack? Jack, why can’t you just--Jack!” 

He faded through the window, though Ana knew it to be double tight, and she was left alone in the dark, with but one word, surrounding her and echoing off the walls. 

“Listen.”

[zosonils]

what are some random papyrus headcanons you currently have?

ooughwhhghgh anon you know the EXACT way to my heart. got a map to it and everything. a real good and fancy map. the ones with sea monsters in the corners

autistic adhd papyrus real

he tends to think of anything he doesn’t understand [and even some things he does!] in terms of puzzles, since they’re a lifelong special interest and they help him contextualise things! for instance if he’s navigating someplace he’s never been before it’s easier for him to visualise things as an incomplete map that he has to find the pieces [landmarks] of than it is to just wander until he finds his way or go up to someone and ask for directions [talking to people he doesn’t know very well is also a puzzle and he has more trouble solving that one because sometimes the clues lie to you]. this approach to things makes him astoundingly good at working through things logically, although between the difficulties applying this sort of thinking to unpredictable social situations and his occasional penchant for insane troll logic he doesn’t have a 100% success rate

in addition to this he’s a really visual thinker and can understand almost anything really quickly if he has a way to visualise it, whether it’s explicitly given to him or he thinks of one himself and suddenly goes OH I GET IT NOW. anything that doesn’t come with a coherent visual metaphor is borderline impossible for him to grasp, though. dude needs his diagrams

he likes playing video games, at least when he isn’t hyperfocused on his duties as a royal guard in training, and he tends to get an insane amount of mileage out of them because once he beats whatever objective the game explicitly gives him he’ll start making up his own self-imposed challenges or ‘puzzles’ instead. like if you gave him tetris he’d be super into the standard a-type and b-type modes, but once he gets tired of those he’ll start doing stuff like trying to play in time with the music, or without rotating any pieces, or painstakingly arranging incomplete lines so that the empty spaces form some kind of intricate pattern

gloves and especially scarves are a comfort accessory for him! even before/after the battle body is a thing and he’s wearing different clothes from one day to another pretty much every outfit he wears includes those accessories. if it’s too hot for a huge warm tightly-wrapped scarf he just grits his teeth and wears it anyway

the reason pap hates grease so much is that it sets off literally every single sensory issue he has. it sticks to you when you touch it just a little, it feels just as gross through your gloves, it’s hard to wash off, it stains your favourite scarf so you have to put it through the washing machine twice to make absolutely sure it doesn’t smell weird later and stress you out again, it has a gross taste that stays in your mouth for ages, it’s just the worst! how his brother stomachs the stuff he’ll never know [and it’s not because he doesn’t have a stomach, that doesn’t mean he can’t have standards either]

papyrus knows that sans suffers from depression, and he understands what that actually means as opposed to just having a surface-level grasp on ‘sans isn’t happy as often as he should be’. the issue isn’t that he doesn’t understand or desperately want to help, he does, but the sheer magnitude of sans’ issues is just substantially more than papyrus has any frame of reference for. the best he knows how to do is to be as blisteringly positive as possible in hopes that some of it will rub off on sans, while also refusing to enable any of the lazy or blatantly self-destructive habits sans has that papyrus can tell aren’t making him feel any better. short motherfucker needs a trained therapist and/or antidepressants more than anything but papyrus is doing everything he can, and while papyrus being papyrus is already enough to keep sans going he’s helping as much as he does specifically because of the deliberate effort he makes to beat sans’ depression over the head with a bone until it runs off hissing

wow that one got long lmao sorry i just really hate when people portray papyrus as completely oblivious to sans’ problems when he’s pretty strongly hinted to understand them to at least some degree and 1. it literally makes for such a better story on both the heartwarming and crushingly tragic ends of the spectrum if pap knows and is doing his best to help 2. even if it didn’t people are still deliberately ignoring huge chunks of papyrus’ characterisation in favour of portraying him as the smol little innocent cinnamon roll uwu bean who doesn’t understand anything and y’all have got to realise the implications of forcing this personality on the most heavily autistic coded character in the game :|

on a more lighthearted note, papyrus can reluctantly but wholeheartedly appreciate a good pun or cleverly-planned prank, he just knows that sans likes getting a rise out of people with them and goes with his instinct to groan over his instinct to laugh because it makes sans happy. sans is completely aware that papyrus is doing this, so there’s an unspoken self-aware undertone to their whole routine lmao

whenever papyrus, sans, and undyne are together they have this wacky dynamic where they’re all constantly tossing the straight man role around like a hot potato and i want a dumb sitcom about the three of them living in the skeleton household that goes absolutely mental with this wacky dynamic and god damn it i’ll write it myself if i have to

papyrus gets to kin me for this one, there’s like a single phineas and ferb dvd that fell into the underground a few years ago that made its way to him in one way or another [sans probably gave it to him with no way of predicting the special interest hell [positive] he was about to unleash] and he immediately became obsessed. he can recite entire episodes from memory because he watched them so many times the audio got burned into his brain. his favourite character is doof and he considers the annoying dog his personal perry the platypus. when he gets to the surface and finds out that there’s like 200 more episodes he cries with happiness

aroace papyrus also real

it’s getting late so i’m going to leave this here but i am always down to talk about papyrus. i fuckin love papyrus so much guys

[maxrev]

Intimacy Prompts: Falling asleep in their arms. For mshenko :D

Sooo, apparently I CAN write prompts. Just takes me a while lol. Knox seemed to like this one and I can honestly say, I was not expecting this...domestic fluff. Hope you like it! My renegade has a soft side. He knew? 

       ____________________________

Knox leaned his head against the seat in the skycar, exhausted from his physical therapy session. There were days he felt he was making more progress in going backwards than forwards; today had been one of those days. 

He fought against closing his eyes and sleeping on the way back to the condo, located in the newly built high rise over English Bay. Kaidan's family had one before but it had been destroyed during the Reaper invasion.

"I have to make a quick stop and pick up some things for dinner, go ahead and close your eyes if you need to."

Too tired to even lift his head, Knox rotated it left to study Kaidan navigating the streets of Vancouver with calm assurance. Maybe he should have let him drive the mako all those years ago. No. He’d enjoyed himself too much and the reactions of the crew. Especially the man sitting next to him. 

"I'm fine," he said, rotating his head back to the right and further, watching the world rush by in a blur. 

Silence greeted his words and swore he could hear a wealth of reproach within it. He was even too tired to care. 

"It's just you and me. You can relax your guard, Knox." Frustration laced the smoky voice.

Irritation crept into his, "I said, I'm fine."

God, he sounded like a belligerent child. Felt like one, too. Tired, cranky, and ready for a nap. "Your concern is noted but I'd rather wait until we get home." 

Warmth bloomed in his chest at the thought - home. He never thought he'd have one of his own, had never expected to die saving the galaxy. 

He still thought he sounded like a whiny child but exhaustion nipped at his heels like a recalcitrant pup and he was unable to keep it at bay. Kaidan pulled up to the store and Knox bit his lip against a groan as he pulled himself up by the armrest, ready to get out. 

"You don't have to come in. I just need a few things. Stay here and relax." 

"I told you, I'm--"

"Fine. Yeah...you have.” Now he could hear exasperation. “Look, I'm not trying to be pushy, just...take care of you." 

Knox followed him into the grocery store, feeling like hed kicked a puppy. He knew Kaidan cared, just had a problem accepting it. Even after all this time. Learning how to look after himself from the age of four, a lifetime of doing so couldn’t be  undone in a few years. For the moment, though, he had other things to worry about. It took every bit of concentration in his state of exhaustion not to stumble over his feet and get tangled up in the cane. God how he hated the thing. 

He shuffled behind Kaidan who walked slowly to accommodate him; another irritation. Stubborn and too proud to admit it, the thought crossed his mind he should have just stayed in the skycar, let Kaidan shop in peace. Like a kindergartener, he probably needed a nap or Rip Van Winkle for twenty years. OR maybe a Snickers. 

Lost in thought, he hadn’t paid much attention to what Kaidan put in the cart but as they checked out, he saw all of his favorites; the makings for homemade mac and cheese, steak, some kind of dessert. Knox’s heart soared at the same time he felt like a complete scrooge, biting the man's head off while he was doing everything to pamper him in spite of the rotten attitude. 

"Thank you," he said as they walked back to the skycar. He shivered inside his leather jacket; the temperature had dropped since they’d left physical therapy. 

"You're welcome, Knox. Always.” 

Back at the condo, Kaidan unloaded the groceries, ordering Knox to go relax by the electric fire with the ambience of genuine crackling flames. This time he listened, wanting nothing more than to rest his leg and hip, still protesting from the session earlier. He all but sagged down to the couch - carefully - propping his leg on the coffee table and reached for a book he'd been reading about the Andromeda galaxy. He may not be up in space anymore but he could still read about it and Andromeda interested him, thinking of the arcs which had headed there. He missed the stars, the only place he’d ever truly felt at home.  

Pulled from his thoughts by the sounds of Kaidan preparing a meal in the kitchen, for him, made Knox smile for the first time today. Okay, so the stars weren’t the only place he felt at home, not anymore. 

Kaidan appeared as if summoned by his thoughts, carrying a large mug of hot tea. "Cinnamon and apple with a bit of honey." 

Closing his eyes and inhaling the aroma, Knox took a sip, sputtering as the hot liquid burned his tongue. He nodded and responded with a coughed, "Perfect." 

Kaidan chuckled, "Did you think it wouldn’t be hot?"

Grumbling, he told him, "Go back to the kitchen," but there was no heat in his tone. 

"Yes, dear," the words were thrown over a shoulder with a laugh. 

 Knox sipped the tea carefully, enjoying the taste and the warmth spreading through him. Between the tea and the fire, he was beginning to feel drowsy. He hoped dinner wouldn’t take too long, he might fall asleep. His stomach growled loudly in disagreement. 

A short time later, Kaidan came back with two plates piled high with homemade mac and cheese, green beans and medium rare steaks, handing one to him before taking a seat on the couch. They ate in a comfortable, companionable silence; something else Knox had never had but this was easier to accept than being cared for. 

The warm, rich gooeyness of the mac and cheese was like a balm to his soul. Knox could understand why it was called 'comfort food.' Of course, the steak was good as well, seasoned perfectly and cooked just the way he liked it. He set the fork down on the plate and sighed with contentment. 

A warm fire, a good meal and full stomach, a man who cared about him - even if he couldn’t voice how much he appreciated him like he should. Exhaustion pulled at him, a whisper in his ear to let go and tumble down into the void of sleep. 

"Seconds or dessert instead?"

Knox snapped out of his stupor and stared at the empty plate in his lap as if it held the answer to the question. With no answer forthcoming, he made a choice, "Dessert." 

"Should have known," Kaidan answered with a laugh. “You and your sweet tooth.” Grabbing the plates, he went back to the kitchen. 

Knox couldn’t help finding sweets so appealing. Never having access to much food in general living on the streets, let alone anything sweet, he had become addicted. Saying no wasn't easy for him, though he had limits like everything else in his life, except books...and Kaidan, who came back in with one plate, handing it over before taking a seat. Knox moaned when he saw what it was - a thick, chocolate brownie covered in hot fudge and vanilla ice cream with a glass of cold milk. 

“I can’t believe I just heard you moan over dessert with such abandon when you have me right here. What am I, chopped liver?” 

Knox glared at him, which garnered a smirk in response. His brain sluggish, a thought occurred to him when he glanced back at the brownie, adorned with his favorite toppings. "Why only one? You're not having dessert?" 

Usually, Kaidan ate along with him. They were still biotic after all, needing the calories even if they weren't jumping from one mission to the next anymore. 

"I am, after you decide you can't eat another bite, which as you know happens often,” he teased.

This close, Knox noticed the laugh lines crinkling the corners of warm brown eyes; lips turned up in a soft smile, the scars stretched across them; wings of gray in the black hair at each temple...and was hit with a wave of love so strong, he nearly dropped his plate. The strength of the emotion blindsided him, leaving him breathless. 

He glanced down at the brownie, not really seeing it at all, terrified of  this unrestrained emotion. Control was at the center of his very being. Off balance and floundering, he took a bite of his dessert, one much too big, and nearly choked while trying to swallow it down. Kaidan reached for the glass of milk, thrusting it into his hand. Grasping it like a lifeline, Knox took a large drink...nearly choked again but it helped the brownie slide down and he was able to breathe again. 

"You okay?" There was a note of concern in his voice. 

"Y-y-" he coughed again to clear his throat, "Yes." He croaked, voice sounding raw.

Kaidan continued to stare at him, as if he didn’t quite believe it. But Knox took a few more bites of the brownie without any more catastrophes and as predicted, handed it over. The laughter in the brown eyes dispelled any remaining concern. 

He moved, leaning back against Knox to get more comfortable, then cleaned the plate and set it on the table. It spoke volumes to his concern, when any other time, he’d take it into the kitchen. They remained like that for a while, basking in the warmth of the fire, Knox yawning first, then Kaidan, who snuggled down further. Soon, his upper body was resting against Knox’s legs. 

“Does this hurt?” 

“No, I’m fine.” 

The dark head turned, brown eyes gazing up at him, searching his face for a lie. Not finding one, he got comfortable again. Carefully, Knox placed his arm around Kaidan’s chest, letting it sort of...hang there. He was slowly becoming accustomed to touch but usually Kaidan was the one touching, not him. Yet, it felt right. Holding Kaidan, letting him be relaxed and cared for. 

He thought, maybe, he should say something as he mulled over his earlier revelation, give voice to it...tell Kaidan how he felt. Out loud. But as he fought for words, opening his mouth to confess all, a soft snore came from the man lying across his legs. 

A huff of laughter slipped from his lips. Of course, just as he made a momentous decision, the object of his speech had fallen asleep but this time, it happened in his arms. 

[zrtranscripts]

Home Front, Mission 10: Round Robin

Life is irrepressible

~

SAM YAO: You know how sometimes you want to say that things are going to be okay, but you can't definitely know that they're okay, and they're not really okay right now? Yeah. All right. So Janine would say, "We have no evidence, Mr. Yao, that things are going to get any less okay than they are at the moment." Sometimes she can be weirdly comforting.

Anyway, all right. Positives: I'm safe in Abel Township with Janine. The other runners are safe. Jody is still in the warehouse. Runner Five is in the Spectrum Mall eating through the climbing shop stash of self-heating meals. Apparently, the lentil pilaf is surprisingly all right. Peter's in the cinema. Phil's in New Canton. We're all okay right where we are. But there's... [sighs] Look, something's happening to the communications system and we're gonna stop broadcasting for two or three weeks. We are 100% definitely coming back, okay?

Janine explained this to me. Um, yeah, hang on. [paper rustles] Yeah, “Essential maintenance can no longer be put off if our comms systems are to weather this time robustly.” Okay, I guess that was less technical than I was expecting. Anyway, this is our last exercise together for a little while, so I guess let's make it a good one. I'm gonna play the best dancing song ever. Let's dance.

~

SAM YAO: I don't know why I'm feeling so upset about this, really. It's not like anyone's going to be less safe when we can't hear each other's voices, and we'll all have crazy stories to tell when we come back. I bet Peter will have like, trained the fox to do tricks, and Five will know crazy amounts about mountaineering from all those climbing books.

And honestly, the Abel vegetable patch is just bursting with life right now. There were these borlotti bean plants and I'm not kidding, they were tiny beans two weeks ago and now they're literally a meter tall, stretching up to the sky. I mean, who knows what they'll have done by the time we start broadcasting again? Maybe I'll have quite the adventure to report with a giant and a golden goose.

Anyway, first exercise. In honor of the Abel veg patch, forward lunges! When the beanstalks are covered in new fresh beans, this will be the move we'll do to reach the furthest away ones. Okay? So you know the drill. Stand with your feet hip-width apart, take a big step forward with your right foot, then lower your hips towards the ground, bending both knees, keeping your right shin vertical and let your left heel come off the floor as your left knee lowers towards the floor. Make sure your right knee doesn't go over your right toes. Go as far down as you can, but make sure it doesn't hurt. Then push down into your right heel to go back to the starting position, then do it again!

Okay, I’m gonna time you. 30 seconds. Right leg forward, and go. That's it, keep it going. Just think of all those lovely beans you'll pick like this. It makes it all worth it, really. I love beans. Okay, now change legs. Left leg at the front, go at your own pace. Your 30 seconds starts now. Hmm, maybe I should do some more beans. One day, we'll all be doing this in the veg patch in unison and it'll look really weird. Bean training, that's what I'm going to call this. Almost there... and that's 30 seconds! Good work, everyone. I'm gonna play some more music. You could either do more lunges, or dance, or rest, and when you come back, there'll be a surprise! [laughs] Bet you can't wait, can you?

~

PETER LYNNE: Okay, let me see. God, is that... Is it working? [gasps, then laughs] Oh my God, I have a red light. Majestic. Oh, and I've got Sam on ROFFLEnet telling me to stop asking if it's working, so I... I'll assume it must be working. Um... Oh, uh, hi. Hello. Uh, welcome to a simultaneous broadcast from the Abel Township personnel for the first time, uh, well, ever. And-and the last time, just for a few weeks, so I suppose we'd better make it good.

Today you'll be hearing from myself, Phil, and Janine. Sam said we should all do our signature moves. Now of course, as you all know, my signature move is absolutely unfit for public consumption, certainly pre-watershed, so I'm going to have to come up with something else. Tell you what, having us all chip in though, it really does start to feel like having a real conversation. Which let me tell you, when you've exclusively been chatting with a fox for several weeks, that's really quite a thrill. So to celebrate, let's do some of our Rocky-inspired moves together one more time. That's right, it's the jabs!

So hold your fists in front of you. Your dominant hand - and that's, of course, the hand you write with - should be a little further from your face, ready to punch. Plant your feet diagonally, shoulder-width apart, with your knees slightly bent and your dominant foot at the back. Now you're going to punch out with your dominant hand, rotating your arms so that your knuckles face up and your shoulder moves forwards. We're going to do 30 seconds of jabs just like that.

Starting... don't be [?]... now. Yes, get going. Excellent. Don't get carried away. It's a marathon, not a sprint. 15 seconds down. Once again, imagine hitting that bullseye dead center. Just how, you know, in Disney's Robin Hood where he gets the arrow in and then hits the arrow with the arrow? Uh, anyway, uh, change foot. Now you want to put your dominant foot forward. That's of course the one you write with. And punch with your other arm. Excellent. Oh, this form, it's delicious. I could eat you up. 15 seconds left. Don't start to tire. Feel the burn, embrace the burn, love the burn! And we're done.

God, it feels good every time, doesn't it? I know we can't punch the zombie virus in the face, but for what it's worth, I'd for one bloody want to. All right. Well, Sam's made the frankly laughable mistake of giving me free choice of what music comes up next, so I'm going to make him regret that. Here is the song that I will be listening to over the next few weeks. Keep on punching while it plays, or just throw some shapes instead.

~

PHIL CHEESEMAN: [laughs] He started it by saying, "Is this working?" [laughs] No, but of course, he's not a radio professional. How would he know that when the red light goes on, it means it's... Oh. Um... okay! Hello, ci-ti-zens! Phil Cheeseman here, broadcasting from New Canton Radio, bringing you all the exercises and the hits all day long. Zoe is literally laughing in my ear right now. Okay, Zoe, could you try to... Yeah, I mean, you don't have to tell me that you're literally rolling around on the floor. Aren't you getting covered in cat hair? Honestly, I think she actively likes being covered in cat hair. It attracts all the cats while keeping the humans away. Ideal.

All right. In honor of Zoe's position on the floor, we're going to do sit-ups. Lie down on your back on the floor. Get something soft like a towel or a yoga mat. Bend your knees and put your feet flat on the floor. Now remember that you have a few options, but whichever you choose, make sure you don't strain your back. Keep your abs engaged and use them to lift your body. If you can only move an inch off the ground, well, that's plenty to work your core.

Okay, so. Option one, start with your arms behind you so that the backs of your hands are resting on the floor, then sit up so that your hands tap the ground on either side of your feet or your knees. Option two is more like, uh, crunches and they're more protective of your lower back. Start with your fingertips of your hands behind each ear with abs engaged. Sit up until your head is a few inches off the ground, and then lower your upper body back to your starting position in a controlled motion. Don't just flop down.

Okay, we're going to do 60 seconds of as many sit-ups or crunches as we can. Start... now! Just imagine how much cat hair Zoe gets on her doing this exercise. Halfway through. Uh, remember, only sit up as far as you can without overstraining yourself. 15 seconds left, you've got this! There we go! Oh, my stomach feels sore just thinking about all that work you've done.

Zoe reckons that by the time I see her again, she's going to have rock hard abs. [laughs] I reckon I'm never going to get close enough to her to find out because of the intense hair ball situation. I guess that's a nice thing for us all to think about, what we'll be able to do or tell each other about when... yeah, we do see each other again. Will we have perfected one joke or learned to play the spoons or will we have stories to tell about where we were and how it was for us? I guess Sam will have borlotti beans to share. Peter will have extensive Rocky knowledge. And me... I think I'll just know how much I miss Zoe when she's not around. [sighs] But don't tell her that. Here's some music. You could do some more sit-ups or crunches, or express yourself with your best dance moves.

~

JANINE DE LUCA: Hello, listeners. The red light tells me I'm now broadcasting, and it is an honor to do so. My intention was to use this segment to explain in some detail the maintenance work we are undertaking on the communications system to educate listeners on electrical engineering in a crisis situation, but Mr. Yao expressed the view that something a little more heartfelt might be more appropriate.

I am proud of you all. None of us expected to be separated for this long. None of us were prepared for it a few short weeks ago, and yet we have all risen to the challenge with courage and grace. We have grown crops, we have exercised, we have cared for those near to us, we have reached out to those far away. When we felt we could not carry on, we have carried on. I am proud of us. Please take this time to recall things that you are proud of in your own behavior in this time. I am proud of you for those things, too.

And with that said, on to my signature move. I gave this some thought, drew up a shortlist, and analyzed each exercise for signature potential. In the end, I decided upon the wall sit. It is simple, but surprisingly taxing. Rest your lower back against a wall and bend your knees as if you were sitting down, then simply hold that position for 60 seconds. Begin now.

That's it. Excellent, runners. Keep going. 15 seconds. You may feel a burning sensation in your thighs. There we have it. Keep it up, runners. 30 seconds. Try to maintain the position, but you may stand up and then resume the wall sit if you need. 15 seconds to go. You will get through this. Keep it going, runners. That's it. Stand up.

It occurred to me that the wall sit is the perfect analogy for our times. What needs to be done is simple, but not easy. The longer it goes on, the more tired we become, and yet, through doing this simple maneuver, we will grow stronger. I know this to be true. I will now play a song which gives me fortitude in difficult times. You may use the time to complete more wall sits, to march in place, or to dance. We will come through this together. We never knew our own strength until now. I will speak to you soon. For now, here is a tune from my personal motivational collection. Continue with wall sits or move in whatever way feels best to you.

~

SAM YAO: Well bloody hell, I've been doing those exercises along with you and that was a tough workout! Well done, everyone. God, honestly, I swear my borlotti bean plants are growing every time I look away. Like, there's this one plant, right? It's grown right up past the top of the cane and now it's sort of waving around in midair, looking for something new to cling onto. Yeah... yeah. I know how it feels. All that for one tiny bean. Huh. Do you know what? Life is just irrepressible. There's-there's no stopping it. Not the zombie virus. Certainly not a little break in comms. It's like, bursting out everywhere, little tendrils reaching out for connection. It's unstoppable, and we're part of it, too.

You know, when I finish this broadcast, I'm gonna walk out into the veg patch and put up some new nets, help the beans to grow up big and strong. The plant doesn't know that yet, but it's not going to have to wait very long, and that's like us, too. Reaching out for connection, not knowing how long we're gonna have to wait, but one day, this won't be going on anymore. All we have to do is keep on reaching out and one day soon, there'll be something solid for us to cling on to.

[laughs] I, uh... yeah, I'm supposed to be the one to click the off button here to end the broadcast, but I don't want to. [laughs] But um, I'm just going to close my eyes and tell myself, even though I can't see you, you're all still there. All of us are reaching out one way or another. We're all still here even after the click. I'm just being silly. We'll be back soon.

[radio off button clicks]

~

[rainbhrts94writes]

Tephra 03

Hello! Here’s the next thrilling instalment, hope you enjoy the banter as much as I do! :)

POV: Taehyung Warnings: None this chapter Word Count: 2.7K Rating: PG

Master List

Tephra 03

Namjoon had been acting weird, and not his usual weird, weirder than normal weird. Since he had started looking for that girl from the landslide, Joon had become hard to get ahold of, or when Taehyung had managed to find his brother, he always had somewhere to be. Taehyung hadn’t thought anything of it, though, until he caught sight of his brother breaking the curfew, not once, not twice, but three times. Sure, he wasn’t exactly abiding by it either, but for Joon not to follow the rules, something had to be going on, so Taehyung did what any good brother would do. He followed him.

It was that awful time of year where it was cold when you woke up and warm as classes let out for training. He never knew how to dress, but Taehyung had always hated being hot, so tonight he was wildly underdressed for the weather. As wonderful as his trusty flip flops were, it was moments like this where he wished he had inherited fire magic instead.

Shaking the thoughts from his head, Taehyung kept up with Namjoon as he headed towards the training grounds. After-hours training, specifically unsupervised after-hours training, was one of the worst rules you could break; anyone who was caught was expelled. This had to be important for Namjoon to be risking expulsion.

Taehyung watched curiously as his brother knocked on the large wooden doors to the grounds; he didn’t get to see much, though, immediately encased in stone in his hiding spot. He had been caught.

“You are literally the least conspicuous person I’ve ever met.” A voice poked fun at Joon.

“I’m not sure I follow.” He could hear the confusion in his brother’s voice.

“Gods, you’re just lucky he cares about you enough to follow you instead of telling a teacher.” The voice sighed, clearly exasperated as the earth shifted beneath him.

“Oh.” When Namjoon turned around, he looked stunned, and it took everything for Taehyung not to laugh.

“Hi, Hyung.” He smiled. “Hello, Hyung’s friend.” he recognized her from the landslide. At least Namjoon found who he was looking for. What were they both doing out past curfew, though?

“YN, you can call me YN.” She introduced herself. “I believe we’ve met before, briefly.”

“The landslide,” Taehyung confirmed with the shake of his head and a smile. “Thanks for taking care of him.”

“All part of the job.” She bowed slightly and shifted, so her badge hit the light. That explained why she hadn’t been in any of the classes. Though Taehyung was still confused, what was Joon doing out past curfew?

“Friendship isn't supposed to be considered a job.” Namjoon finally piped up.

“It is if you’re going to get yourself followed here every other night.” YN laughed, “Technically, it is still my job, though, friends or not.”

“So, uh, as comfortable as I am. Is there a protocol for this situation? Am I in trouble? Do I pretend I didn’t see anything? Can I come in for snacks? Do you even have snacks?” Taehyung asked the now bickering pair.

“I, crap, give me a second.” Without waiting for an answer, YN jogged back into the training grounds shutting the door behind her.

“I didn’t peg you as the illegal activities sort of guy.” Taehyung poked fun at his brother.

“I can have fun too.” Namjoon countered, looking a little peeved. “What about you? You had to be out past the curfew to have noticed me, let alone follow me here.”

“See, I AM the illegal activities sort of guy. I was just sitting on the roof admiring the sky when I noticed my plucky older brother wandering somewhere he shouldn’t be wandering.” Taehyung enjoyed watching his brother bristle.

“Taehyung, you are a member of the Atlas royal family now. How many times do you have to be told there are rules we have to follow.” Namjoon’s words were staccato, even though his eyes didn’t match the harshness of his tone.

“Technically, I’m only legally royal. The minute they find out if our younger sister can use magic or not, I’m immediately less important.” Taehyung tried to shrug, but his shoulders got caught on the rock surrounding him.

“Just because you're last in line for the throne does not mean negative actions on your part don’t affect the family.” Namjoon sighed.

“I’m not so sure about that; I’m not related to the royal family by blood.” he relaxed against the cool stone. “I’m sure they’d just disown me and move on. Reese would take my place in line with her legitimate magic and all that. I could write to my mom, maybe find my sister?”

“You make it sound like you’ve planned this out?” Namjoon questioned, now obviously warry.

“Not in an, ‘I’m going to do something illegal and get kicked out of school and the family,’ kind of way. I’ve always prepared myself for the possibility that I’d be removed from succession if someone questioned my lineage enough, though.” Taehyung said honestly.

“Just because you’re not related to us by blood doesn’t mean you’d be so willingly discarded,” Namjoon spoke, clearly trying to reassure his brother. “Besides, father had your old estate searched for any remains years ago. They never found anything; what makes you think your sister made it out alive?”

“They never found anything.” Taehyung’s voice grew serious. “That whole estate collapsed and was burned to the ground. They found my dad; why wouldn’t they have found her?”

“I don’t know Tae; I wouldn't get your hopes up about that. Even if she was alive, wouldn’t she have tried to find you by now? Or at the very least, your mom?” Namjoon tried to sympathize.

“What if she can’t?”

Before his brother could answer him, the stone surrounding Taehyung disappeared, and the large wooden doors swung open.

“Okay, you’re clear. He says you can come in.” YN skipped over towards the two of them. “There’s some ground rules though, before you do.”

---

Taehyung had never been one for rules, but technically by following these rules, he was breaking some pretty major ones. So he let it go. The entire situation was odd; not only were there a few hundred people from families just like his, the Academy was willingly training these people against the law. It was badass. If Taehyung had any shot at finding his sister, he could start here. 

Yoongi had explained when he was brought in that this needed to be kept under wraps. None of the instructors from Atlas knew about what was happening when the bells rang, and it needed to stay that way. Joon had basically signed his life away to the Min family by agreeing to keep all of this a secret, so Taehyung followed suit. He was distantly related to Yoongi after all; maybe if his life came crashing down around him in the future, this interaction would win him favor and refuge in the Adiyan Empire. That’s where his dad was from, so he had always wanted to visit.

“Hello, Earth to Taehyung.” YN’s hand waving in front of his face snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Huh?”

“There he is.” She snickered before continuing. “Does this all make sense? Do you have any questions?”

“I’ve always got questions,” Taehyung responded with his favorite boxy smile.

“Do you have questions we can answer?” Yoongi sighed as he leaned back in his chair.

“Probably not.” Taehyung shrugged as he drummed his fingers on the desk.

“Okay then, you can come by whenever you want, or never. It doesn’t matter as long as you don’t get caught by professor Rittenhouse.” YN spoke plainly. “I’m on nighttime guard duty for a week at a time, once every month, but I frequent the grounds during the day when I’m off duty if you ever need me.”

“How is that off duty?” Namjoon asked the question Taehyung had been thinking.

“If I see something stupid, I can get someone else to deal with it.” YN chuckled. “I’m more of what you’d call reserve forces.”

“Still have no idea how making rounds during the day is considered off duty, but maybe I'm not understanding something right.” Taehyung joked.

“He’s got a mouth on him, doesn’t he?” YN smirked as she deferred to Yoongi.

“Runs in the family.” Yoongi mentioned nonchalantly.

“What? Is everyone at this table related to each other?” Namjoon smoothed the wrinkles out of his forehead. “You should find a better joke.”

“Nah, I kind of like it.” YN continued, poking at Joon’s arm.

“Of course you do.” Namjoon rolled his eyes.

“All that aside, you’re free to join us on training days.” Yoongi offered. “They rotate through instructors from Adyia, Cordelia, and the Arribellian Alliance. So we get a pretty interesting training regiment.”

“Do you spar with each other?” Taehyung wondered aloud.

“We do, unlike the other classes here, we’re a healthy mix of people from all nations. So we work with what we’ve got.” YN stated proudly. “You may come to find that the style of magic students here use differs greatly from what you see in your field training and exercises, though.”

“Sounds like fun; when can I start?” Taehyung sat up a little straighter in his chair.

“We start in about twenty minutes. This one here was coming early to spar with YN.” Yoongi pointed to Namjoon.

“Before you even ask, YN is part of the Academy’s night watch and Head Mistress Cecilia’s personal retinue. She is plenty skilled in non-magic based combat arts.” Namjoon boasted.

“So she can teach me how to use a sword,” Taehyung asked in excitement.

“I could, but that’s definitely the face of someone who shouldn’t have a sword.” YN laughed out loud as she answered his question.

“But I’ve always wanted to use a sword. If not a sword, what about a lance? Or something stealthy like assassin knives.” Taehyung’s voice grew with his enthusiasm.

“Again, yes, but also no.” YN’s eyes crinkled as she smiled.

“I’m more concerned about your choice in weaponry.” Namjoon sighed, shaking his head.

“Eh, they’re pretty standard choices.” YN shrugged. “I’m just glad he didn’t ask about a broad sword. Those things are heavy, and I’d hate to be the one to break the news to string bean over there.”

“Hey!” Taehyung shot out of his seat. “I’m perfectly capable of lifting a broadsword! I can manipulate metal, too you know.”

“Oho, big man on campus.” YN straightened herself and gestured towards the door. “Let's see what you got then.”

“I’m not getting trained tonight, am I?” Namjoon whispered to nobody in particular.

“Nope.” Yoongi shrugged and followed the pair out into the ground to join the other students. “Should’ve thought of that before you got her all riled up.”

“I didn’t rile anyone up!” Namjoon argued.

“No, but you brought dumb to dumber, so it’s sort of your fault.” Yoongi smiled to himself “Do you wanna train or talk?”

“Train, I want to train!” Namjoon spoke as he ran after Yoongi.

—-

It’s not that Taeyhyung thought they had been lying, just that he didn’t expect the training courses to be so different. He’d been exposed to magic at a young age, and had the privilege of learning from a private instructor for most of his life. Sure he wasn’t the best, but he didn’t expect to be this covered in dirt, let alone panting after one day of new exercises.

“You ready to tap out?” YN asked from across the field. 

“Never!” Taehyung smiled, straightening himself and preparing for another round of attacks. 

Once the ground started flying his way he threw up a shield, hoping to deflect a majority of debris. The problem Taehyung had always had with the style of magic taught to most earth mage’s was it was way too defense heavy. Sure you could take a beating, but unless you were fighting against another earth mage it was difficult to take an offensive position once you began defending. 

“I keep telling you, you’ve got to redirect, not deflect.” YN spoke beside him and Taehyung felt his soul leave his body. 

“How did you get that close that fast?” Taehyung asked, bewildered. 

“I made a tunnel.” YN shrugged and took a stance in front of him. “Now, stand like this.”

“Isn’t that a water mage stance?” Tae asked.

“Good eye.” YN only paused briefly before continuing. “Water mages have exceptional offensive and defensive capabilities.”

“You’re sure that’s not just because it’s easier to see through water than it is earth?” Taehyung asked. 

“That may be a part of it, but not all of it. Watch Nik.” YN pointed at the tall, dark haired male working with the other earth mages. “When you use water magic, it’s about fluidity. Part of that is being able to take the momentum of your assailant’s attack and use it against them. Taehyung watched carefully as YN mimicked Nik’s movements, it was almost as if they were dancing. Not shy he joined in, carefully matching YN step for step. 

“That’s good, just like that.” YN encouraged. “Watch your hands though, they look like limp noodles and that’s not gonna redirect anything.”

“You don’t know that.” Taehyung stood up, placing his hands on his hips.

“I do, but if you don’t believe me we can have you try for yourself.” YN smiled and took a few steps back. 

“You know, I’m starting to think you’re the reason they tell people who smile like I did earlier that they can’t have swords.” Taehyung snickered as he took the new stance.

“Perceptive.” 

Taehyung didn’t have time to respond before YN started with another round of projectiles. Her control over the earth was astoundingly good, so he had been surprised when YN had mentioned she wasn’t very good with metal based magics. He’d never met someone who could move the earth that efficiently who couldn't at least utilize metal magic. Something was very weird about YN, but he couldn't put his finger on it, not that she left him much time to think about it now. 

The first few flying rocks were deflected, mostly out of habit, until Taehyung remembered what the point of this exercise was. Redirect. Switching his feet he moved into an unfamiliar position and did his best to remember the new movements.

It was messy at first, and the few stones that made it through stung as they bit into his uncovered arms. Eventually though, one of them moved right. Sort of, the projectile spun around Taeyhung like it was caught in some sort of orbit, before careening off to the side in the opposite direction of his target. 

“You need to relax! Use your momentum!” YN called as she sent another round of rocks.

Taehyung took a deep breath and let the tension in his shoulders leave with the exhale. When he opened his eyes the projectile YN sent was nearly there. He was sure it wasn’t graceful looking, but despite the awkwardness of his movements, when his hand made contact with the earth he spun it around and launched it back in her direction. Even though YN caught it without hesitation, Taehyung couldn’t help the elation that bubbled up and out of him.

“Yes! That was it, wasn't it?!” 

“It was,” YN smiled at him proudly and gave him a thumbs up. 

“Again, let’s do it again!” Tae took his stance matching YN.

The longer the exercise went on the larger the flying rocks got. Taehyung was enjoying the challenge YN provided, and when he knocked her down he whooped.

“Nice shot!” YN laughed as she rolled onto her stomach. “You’re fast.”

“Of course I am.” Taehyung wiggled his eyebrows at her and gave her a boxy smile.

“You two are having too much fun.” Namjoon commented as he and Yoongi walked over.

“No such thing.” YN smiled up at Joon as he offered her a hand.

Taehyung watched the pair, the tiniest pangs of jealousy bouncing around in his ribcage. That made no sense though, he’d only just met this girl, why would he be upset?

“YN!” Taehyung called to get her attention. “Can I help you with your metal magic?” 

She blinked at him in disbelief, “You can try.” She answered.

“I like a good challenge.” Taehyung expressed as he jogged over to join the other three.

“You may be in over your head.” Yoongi grimaced.

“You don’t have any earth mages here right?” Taehyung asked, knowing the answer. “Maybe I can help fill the gap?”