#there are piles of laundry all over the ship now

[nerfpuncher]

You know damn well that thief set one foot on the Marauder and puked at the smell. With Echo not around to clean anymore yall know it has to smell again.

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

confessions of a swordsman

zoro x reader

summary: Zoro and you are in a thing - what kind of thing? Who knows but Sanji decides to flirt with you to get Zoro jealous.

The laundry line had been put up for the day, Nami and you were on folding duty. A blanket was laid out on the grass, and you sat comfortably folding clothes into piles for each crew member. Nami was taking clothes off the line and placing them in a basket. The two of you had an efficient process and admittedly were having a good time just chatting. The navigator finally pulled down the last article of clothing and joined you on the blanket. She started matching socks and asked what your plans were for the next island docking.

“I need some new clothes,” she sighed, holding up one of her shirts with a large hole in it. “I don’t even know how this happened.”

“I think we could all use some new clothes.” You held up one of Zoro’s shirts and stuck a finger through the tear at the neckline. Nami laughed when you wiggled a finger at her. “He hates picking out clothes though…I’ll probably just pick out a few things for him.”

Nami smirked. “Wow. Are you just so domesticated.”

“It’s not like that,” you shrugged, folding the shirt, and placing it in Zoro’s pile of clothes. Your eyes didn’t meet hers and that’s all she needed.

“Do you want it to be like that?”

 “I’m just happy being on this ship and being by Luffy’s side.”

Your smile was bright and eager, but Nami saw through the feign contentment in your eyes, but she also knew there was truth to my statement. She said nothing else, but you weren’t foolish enough to not think anything of it. For one, you were sure it was obvious to all that Zoro had a place in your heart and maybe, you in his. Not that either of you would ever admit it out loud – whatever was going on between him and you were a mystery to you like everyone else. The swordsman had a one-track mind, and you knew that from the first time you met. In the beginning, the two of you had bonded over trying to keep Luffy alive. Real friendship bloomed through late night drinking and exchanging stories, triumphs, laughter. Then one night, when everyone else went to bed, he kissed you under the moonlight. His kiss was eager but insecure until you kissed him back. You slept together that night and most nights after that – whenever privacy allotted.

But he never called it what it was or could be or should be.

Neither did you.

Now it’s been months of this, and you were trying your best to not want him in ways he wasn’t willing to give. Not that you really knew what his willingness would amount to because you never talked about our relationship. It was confusing. But you also didn’t want to be the one that needed more, who craved more because it felt weak.

“All done.”

You smiled at Nami and divvyed up the piles to deliver the clean laundry. She left with her basket of clothes to take back to our dorms, and you made your way to the guy’s quarters. You knocked first but when no one answered you walked in; you were surprised to see Zoro napping but tiptoed around the room and placed each pile on different beds. When it came to the napping man’s pile of clothes, you moved to his portion of the wardrobe and placed them on a shelf. You nearly made it to the door when he called out your name and you turned.

“What’s up?”

“Come here,” he murmured, eyes hazy with sleep. He was on his back when you approached, and he quickly pulled you down to the bed. You fell on top of him, hands on his chest as he wrapped an arm effortlessly around your waist. His hand snaked around your neck and pulled you down, hair falling over his face. He grinned slightly and yanked you downwards for a kiss. Your body reacted in the way it always did when he touched you, and you wanted nothing more than to let him ruin you, but he kissed you hard once more and released you.

His eyes closed and then he started to snore.

You rolled your eyes and got off the bed, bringing his discarded blanket off the floor to cover him up. His hair was pushed back from his forehead, and you touched his cheek; his skin went warm and red, like he was blushing. He looked peaceful and you left him to his nap; needing something cold to drink to ease the heat of his lips on yours.

…

The kitchen smelled like baked fish and fresh bread; you sauntered toward the kitchen island and asked Sanji if he needed help. He refused but asked you to sit and keep him company, offering up a bread roll when you agreed. The roll was warm and buttery. You groaned and thanked the man, but going quiet as he worked around the stove.

“You’re awfully quiet over there. What did that idiot do to you?”

See, everyone knew.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sanji smirked, lighting a cigarette. He pointed a spatula at you and said you were a bad liar. “You can do better, by the way, but I guess I can’t say I’m blind. Everyone can see the way you two look at each other – as sick as that makes me.”

His dramatics made you smile. “I don’t even know what us is. I mean, we all know how talkative Zoro is.”

The cook laughed with a shrug, deciding you could help, and motioned for you to come help with dicing. You got up and moved around next to him, he handed you a knife and instructed you on how to dice the green onions. You worked side by side for twenty minutes while he gave you advice on how to talk to Zoro – as much as that pained him. “He’s a competitive asshole. So, work with that.”

“How so?”

Sanji watched as you plated the salmon, nodding to the door just as it swung open from the deck. Your eyes went to Luffy who barged in with a smile and Zoro who had followed him, fresh from his nap. “Here, try this.”

The cook had grabbed you by the chin, turning your head gently to him. With his other hand, he spoon fed you a taste of the desert pudding and your cheeks went red. It was delicious but Sanji’s eyes weren’t on you – they were on Zoro’s, who was glaring from the doorway. You grabbed a hold of the spoon and Sanji released you, patting you lightly on the head before announcing that dinner was ready. Unable to even look at Zoro, you wiped your mouth with a kitchen cloth and helped Sanji serve the plates. After making sure everyone had a plate, you sat in the empty spot next to Zoro. He stiffed a little as you sat but then relaxed when you asked how his nap was. He smirked and just asked if you wanted some ale. The rest of the dinner went uneventful. The food was delicious, the drinks cold, and the conversations were lively. You offered to help Sanji with the dishes, but Zoro pointed it you already helped with dinner.

“Let the lazy cook do the dishes.”

Sanji retorted back with a curse but gave you a knowing smile. You stole a peek at Zoro and noted jealously in his eyes – Sanji was right, but you weren’t sure how much you wanted to push it. Instead, you asked Zoro if he wanted to come to the library with you. “I found that book we were talking about.”

“If Mosshead doesn’t want to enjoy literature with you, I’d be happy to after the dishes. We can light some candles, drink some wine…”

You looked over to the counter, where Sanji was arranging the dishes; his eyes were smoldering and kind, you wanted to laugh at his thoughtful attempts to help you, but the way Zoro was fuming next to you – it seemed like he was enjoying torturing his crew mate.

“Do the damn dishes, idiot.” Zoro grumbled, reaching for your hand. His large fingers around your wrist were surprising. He had never touched you in front of the others and everyone, but Brooke and Franky were around now. No one really paid attention or was trying not to, as Zoro pushed back in his chair and got up. His eyes narrowed down to you, but then a softness overcame his entire face, and he asked if you were done.

All you could manage was a nod.

Then he helped you up from your chair and led you out of the kitchen, towards the library. He didn’t say a word until you were in the library and then he dropped your hand. He moved toward the wall of books and spoke with his back to you.

“If something’s going on between the cook and you, just tell me. I can take it.”

His back tensed as he waited for you to answer him.

“You’re a real idiot.”

Zoro whipped around and cursed at you. “I’m not an idiot! You’re the one flirting with that – that – Euro trash!”

“I wasn’t flirting but even if I was, why do you care?” He seized at your question. “Well, why do you care, Zoro? We’ve never defined whatever this is.”

It was clear that he was flustered and angry, eyes burning with annoyance, but you stood your ground. All you wanted was to hear it from him; you knew Zoro was a man of action over words, but you needed this. Even if he said he didn’t want you, that he could do without you – at least he would have said it. He owed you that much.

“What the hell do you want from me?”

His voice was husked, desperate for reasoning.

“I love you.”

The words came fumbling out of your mouth with a huge relief to your body. It felt great, airing out your feelings and even if he couldn’t reciprocate, at least you said it. You stood there with the moonlight dancing through the windows and could only see Zoro lost in thought. Then, seconds later, he snapped out of it.

“Don’t move,” he seethed through his teeth before storming out of the library. You stood there in disbelief and for a moment, you were afraid that he wasn’t going to come back. That he was going to walk away from you and that would be the end of it.  For a moment, you felt feign resolve; you’d get through it because you got through everything hard in your life.

Then his voice spoke from the library door and when you turned, he seemed more relaxed. He stared at you; hands crossed against his chest, cheeks a bit marooned. He looked proud and when you asked where he had gone, he smirked.

“I went to tell that cook to stay away from you.”

“You did?”

Zoro grinned, walking toward you with a bit of swagger. “I don’t need to confess anything to the rest of them or anyone, but you needed me to, so I did. I told them all that I loved you and for now on, we belong to each other.”

Your heart swayed as Zoro took your face in his hands, rubbing his thumb across your bottom lip. “Don’t play games with me. Just be straightforward, okay? If I catch anyone flirting with you again, I’m kicking their ass, got it?”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you nodded. “I got it. I’m sorry.”

Zoro kissed you roughly on the lips, hand resting at the base of your neck. His kisses turned softer after a minute, and then he pulled away to hold you against him. You felt safe in his arms and relief washed over you, tears forming in your eyes. When he felt a wetness seeping through his shirt, he gently pushed you off him.

“Shit. I didn’t mean for you to cry.”

Panicked filled his voice but you just laughed, brushing away the tears; touching the side of Zoro’s face, you watched as he melted against your touch and smiled. “I’m just really happy.”

Zoro chuckled lightly, pulling you back to him.  “Come here, you little crybaby.”

.....

tagging those who were interested - 💕love you zoro hoes 💕

@posessedbytheinternet @notthemainblog

@smolracoon25 @xentaipriest @xitara666

@rouzuchan @southside-otaku @dimplewonie

[varpusvaras]

Fox is in the middle of decoding a message when Breha runs into the room.

Fox doesn't need to look at her for more than a second to see that she is frightened.

"What is it?" He asks. He is already on his feet before he has gotten all the words out of his mouth. "What's going on?"

"They know", Breha says, and Fox's insides turn to ice.

He is not thinking about the message anymore. He is not thinking about anything he had been doing just a moment before.

The only thing he is thinking about right now is Leia.

Leia, who is sleeping just in the next room over. Breha runs in there, and Fox starts to grab anything that is around him.

Comlink. Weapons. The little clothes the nanny droid has just piled up from the laundry.

He doesn't have the time to pack much more, because Breha is already running back, with blearily blinking Leia in her arms, still wrapped inside her blanket. She gives Fox a look, and Fox leaves everything else and follows her out of the room.

The whole castle is in alarmed by the time they have made it to the main corridor. Sateen is there when they turn towards the hangar.

"Where's Bail?" Fox asks. They don't have any time to spare. They need every second in order to get as far away as possible.

In order to get away at all.

"He's packing up the ship", Sateen says. He joins them as they make their way downstairs. "He sent me to meet up with you. Your armor is already in the ship."

Fox had not even thought about his armor. He had not even touched the entire thing after leaving Coruscant. He had not needed it, not with going through all the treatments and physical therapy, and then focusing on tending to Leia and helping the Rebellion.

He had thought that his days of fighting inside an armor had been long gone.

Leia whines against Breha's shoulder. She is more awake now, and even if she doesn't understand a word any of them are saying, she looks like she understands fully that something is wrong. Her eyes are wide, and she looks scared as she looks at Fox.

Breha wraps her arms tighter around her and shushes her. It makes Leia quiet down, but doesn't make the look in her eyes go away.

For a second, there is an image that forces its way into Fox's mind, of Leia, with that same, scared look on her face, in the arms of someone entirely else, someone cold and dark.

He pushes it away. He would rather die again than let it happen.

Bail is waiting next to the ship when they make it to the bay. It is not one of the ships they usually use, nor is it any of their personal vessels. Fox is fully aware that they had aqcuired one, of an entirely different model and make than all the other ships they were known to use, and seeing it now makes the sitation settle in even further.

"Is everything ready?" Breha asks. Bail nods. He looks too grim, the seriousness casting a deep shadow on his features.

Breha nods as well, and then draws a deep breath. She pulls Leia off of her shoulder, and looks at her for a second, two, three, with a look of grief and finality on her face that Fox hates.

Then she kisses Leia on her forehead, on her cheeks, rapidly, like she is trying to kiss her as many times as possible with one, single breath, and then she turns to Fox.

Without word, she pushes Leia onto Fox's arms.

Somehow, Fox gets even more cold.

"Breha-" he tries to say, but Breha sushes him, and lets go of Leia, in order to reach for Fox now. Her fingers brush up on Fox's face, and she looks at him too, silently, for a couple brief seconds, before she reaches up and presses a hasty kiss on his lips, on his cheeks, everywhere she can reach in her hurry.

"I love you", she says, and then she lets go of Fox too, and turns around and runs back towards the Palace.

"Breha!" Fox calls after her, but then Bail's hand is on his shoulder, gripping it hard.

"Fox", Bail says. His other hand grabs at Fox's arm, and he turns Fox around.

Fox looks up at him.

Bail looks sad.

Fox hates it, too.

He hates it, especially when the understanding dawns on him.

"Bail", Fox says. He is not pleading or begging, no matter how much he wants to. "Do not do this."

Bail looks sad. He shakes his head.

"I'm sorry", he says, and he leans down, and kisses Leia on the forehead. He lets go of Fox's arm, and he cups Fox's face and traces his thumb over Fox's cheek, slowly and carefully, like he is doing it for the last time. "I love you."

"Bail." Fox is pleading, now.

"I'm sorry", Bail says, again, and then he leans to kiss Fox.

Then he steps away, and just like Breha, he turns his back on Fox and Leia, and runs after her.

Fox stands there, staring after them, his entire body freezing cold, his hands gripping onto the blanket around Leia.

"Fox", Sateen says. Fox cannot turn to look at him. "Fox, you need to go, now."

Leia's hand reached out from inside the blanket, and it curls around the collar of Fox's shirt.

Fox rips his eyes away from the receding forms of Breha and Bail, and turns towards the ship.

Without another word, he climbs in, with Leia in his arms.

The door closes after them.

Fox doesn't bother to put Leia down as he sits on the pilot's seat and starts the engine. Leia holds onto him, quietly, as he flies the ship out of the hangar.

She stays quiet as Fox flies the ship out of Alderaan's atmosphere.

Fox holds her closer as the ship jumps into hyperspace.

[summeroumbis-if]

[ demo ] [ Q＆A ]

ᴡᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ᴇɴꜱɴᴀʀᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍöʙɪᴜꜱ ꜱᴛʀɪᴘ ᴏꜰ ʟɪᴠɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅʏɪɴɢ, ꜰᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴇɴᴛᴡɪɴᴇᴅ.

Sunlight dappled through the leaves, casting fragmented patterns on the car window. A dry heat wave hung heavy in the air.

The car engine hummed low and steady as the tires crunched along the dusty country road. Cornfields stretched endlessly on either side, their swaying stalks resembling a vast ocean of green.

You leaned back against the seat, your arm draped languidly over the window sill, fingers tapping idly against the glass. Luggage piled high beside you, crowding the backseat. Your mother drove in the front, occasionally making small talk. But your gaze remained fixed on the landscape outside, watching the occasional wooden fences and weathered farmhouses flicker by. A subtle stillness pervaded the air, as if the usual summer cacophony of cicadas and chatter had been muted, tucked away in some inaccessible corner beyond your reach.

ᴛʜᴇ ʀɪʙʙᴏɴ ɪꜱ ʀᴇᴊᴏɪɴᴇᴅ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀᴇᴅᴇᴛᴇʀᴍɪɴᴇᴅ ᴘᴀᴛʜ ɪꜱ ʀᴇᴛʀᴀᴄᴇᴅ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ.

The story begins in a fictional town in the year 2005.

As a high school senior about to embark on your final summer break, you've been shipped off by your mother to stay with your uncle in a different town. All thanks to a nature observation summer camp specifically organized by your school.

For a restless, newly-turned-adult like you, this kind of activity is a bit too mundane and boring. So much so that you often "accidentally" stray from the group, venturing deeper into the woods in search of excitement. Up until now, you sound exactly like the stereotypical, death-seeking silly in horror movies, even though you always manage to return home safe and sound, with all your limbs intact.

When the two-month summer break comes to an end, you open the door to your uncle's house and find yourself back in the evening of June 30th.

The crimson hidden in a peaceful corner begins to spread, seeping through the branches and infiltrating the reality you held as truth.

Realizing that all this is not an illusion, what should you do to escape this summer? Or perhaps, sever the summer?

Customize your MC. Play as male, female, or non-binary. This will not affect the Love Interests. (Their sexual orientation is mc)

The prey being hunted, or the hunter who sets the trap? Which role do you prefer?

Use your hunting skills to eliminate threats around you! You know, the choices you have to make to survive.

Escape from the clutches of supernatural monsters and break the loop? It's like movie!

Love Interests with customizable genders too. As your eyes meet, what does the other hand conceal? A knife, a bouquet?

:O | Fugaien [M-19] Your classmate. After arriving at your uncle's house, you discover that the work-study student who your uncle mentioned would be helping out on the farm is actually your classmate. According to your uncle, he's saving up for college. So when he found out that his boss is your uncle, he started wondering whether he should call you "boss" too. You stumbled upon the scene of his 'resurrection.'

Even when vital parts of the human body are severed, they can regenerate. What would you name such a thing?

:O | Ayunis [M/F-19] Your classmate, a popular jerk among the students. They possess an almost unnervingly keen intuition and react to danger with incredible speed. Despite their laundry list of flaws, they're not entirely without merit… maybe. They always seem lucky enough to guess what you’re going to do one step ahead of you.

It’s easy to perform such simple tricks without opening my eyes, for the eyes in the dark have already done the work for me.

:O | Memorin [M/F-26]

The second doctor in town. Cheerful and perhaps a touch scatterbrained, they radiate professionalism only when wielding a scalpel. They're lending their medical expertise to the summer camp. When you fainted and were sent to the infirmary, they had you try some sweets they made to help you regain strength; it was a flavor unlike anything you'd ever encountered. You have a distinct impression that they're proficient with a shotgun, though you've never actually witnessed it. Why is that?

My love, don’t panic, don’t fret. Just sit at the dining table, ring the bell, and the most delicious desserts will be served to you.

:O | Ozaeus [M/F-34]

The town's tavern owner. They possess a fiery temper and little patience for troublemakers, yet they harbor a soft spot for young people. You can work at their tavern in exchange for money, though they suspect it might be akin to child labor or that you might be a runaway fleeing abuse, so they always insist on paying you double. They hate the forest and advise you not to go there often.

My excitement was so intense that it nearly stole my breath away. The only sound I could perceive was the frantic pounding of my heart. I must look utterly disheveled, like a rabid dog.

[More LIs to be unlocked]

Disclaimer: Summer ōumbis is rated 18+ for the following mature and potentially disturbing content: depictions of character injury or death, blood, violence, toxic relationships, non-consensual acts, and optional sexual content. All characters depicted in the game are assumed to be of legal age.

Thank you for reading! English is not my first language, and I'm navigating Tumblr like someone encountering a computer for the first time, so the text formatting might be a bit lackluster. The demo is still a work in progress, and the initial release will cover the storyline up to the end of the two months mentioned in the synopsis. It's a big project, and I hope to make it something readable. Thank you again.

[aurathian]

Rumors

AO3 | Written for the @zelinkcommunity Loftwing Letters gift exchange! I hope you enjoy @skyyknights !! This also fulfills @zelinktines24 prompt #14: “rumors” :) If you enjoy, please reblog! <3

Fandom: Skyward Sword

Rating: G

Ships: Link/Zelda

Description: There’s a rumor going around that Link and Zelda are in love.

Read the full fic below or read it on AO3.

Days on the surface were busy. From dawn, Link and Zelda were up collecting wood, fetching water, and making multiple rounds of the settlement to see who needed help. By dusk, they were helping cook meals, store equipment, and make sure all were safe to sleep. Their only respite was their one-room cottage, tucked a short walk away from the settlement, where at night they shared stories about the day and plans for the tomorrows they once never thought they would have.

There was a rumor going around that they were exhausted.

“That’s silly,” Zelda yawned, taking a sip of tea from her mug. “Karane, you should really stop gossiping.” Setting down her cup, she resumed her knitting project: a blanket for Kukiel who, despite her love for adventure, was having a hard time adjusting to the surface. The blanket would be covered in pictures of loftwings and clouds.

“It’s not gossip,” Karane protested. “I can see it in your eyes, Zelda. You have bags!”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Link had to wake you up this morning. It’s usually the other way around.”

“How do you know– ah, Pipit…”

“You should take some time for yourself,” Karane encouraged, getting up to refill her teacup. “You and Link give a lot.”

“We don’t mind,” Zelda argued as she shifted to watch Karane over the back of her chair. “There’s a lot of work to do and we can do it.”

Karane sighed and swirled her cup. Looking out the window, she said, “Link is out with Pipit right now chopping firewood. Maybe you can go get some fresh air, walk a little bit, without starting a new project.” She walked to the door, lifting the cup. “Oh, I’ll return this later.”

And then Karane was gone and Zelda was alone and maybe her best friend was right. A light breeze blew outside, gently ruffling the curtains on the window through which she could hear birds singing. A walk outside, without any projects or jobs or strings attached, was something Zelda hadn’t done in a long time. So, she gently set Kukiel’s blanket aside, finished her cup of tea, and ventured out into the surrounding woods.

On the other side of the surface settlement, Pipit hacked away at a pile of firewood while Link–unwillingly–stood and watched.

“I’m not letting you help,” Pipit huffed as he lifted the axe over his head. “This is my job.”

“But I can do it.”

“You’ve done enough.” With a whack, the log at Pipit’s feet split into two. “You never do anything for yourself anymore.”

“I do plenty for myself,” Link protested. “Last night, I ate dinner.”

Pipit couldn’t stop himself from bursting out in a fit of laughter so loud the birds hidden in the trees launched away into the air.

“Alone?” Pipit asked between chuckles.

“Well, Zelda was finishing up some of the laundry she was helping with, and she got back late.”

“That’s exactly it.” Pipit set leaned on the handle of the axe and glowered at Link. “You two don’t have any time to do something together that doesn’t involve working.”

“Finishing up the settlement is important,” Link replied. “Once that’s done, then we can rest.”

”Or you could rest now—“

“Hey,” a voice rang out, and Pipit didn’t miss the way Link’s eyes lit up. “Am I intruding?” Zelda emerged from behind a tree, and to Pipit’s surprise, wasn’t carrying a pile of fabric or a bucket of water. It was just her.

“Not at all, Zel,” Pipit said, casting a glance at Link’s tomato-hued face, “not at all.” He also didn’t miss the slight fumble in his step which almost sent the logs in his arms rolling.

“I was wondering if Link had a minute,” she said. “But if you’re busy, I don’t want to interrupt—I know that wood is urgent.”

Pipit hurriedly, almost eagerly, replied that it was not urgent. “Take him if you need him.” Link hesitated, glancing between the pile of uncut wood and the woman dearest to him, wondering what mattered more.

He went off with Zelda, leaving Pipit alone and knowing he would never hear the end of this later.

There was a rumor going around that Link and Zelda were in love.

“What happened?” Link asked as they walked through the forest.

“Does something need to happen for us to take a stroll?”

“No, but— usually— I mean, when you come get me it’s because you need help with some work.”

“I just had an idea that we could take a break.” Yes. An idea that was entirely her own. “But if you have to get back, I understand.”

“No! No, I don’t.” Their hands swung at their sides as they walked and Link ever so gently grazed his fingers against hers. Zelda glanced down and turned her face away to hide her blush. Nervously, she slipped her fingers into his. The rest of the walk was silent, but in that silence was comfort. The silence said everything—that they could truly be at peace, even in the midst of building and planning and healing, their peace could be found within the other.

Just outside the forest that surrounded the settlement was Lake Floria. Zelda had grown fond of it on the rare occasions she visited. Beside the lake was a tree taller and much older than the rest, which is where they sat down. For a long time they stayed there, talking, reminiscing, clutching hands, and they were so engrossed in each other that they didn’t notice the golden light of sunset or the glowing bugs that came out of hiding.

“It’s been very nice to do this,” Zelda said as she plucked at some grass. “Perhaps we could do this more.”

“I think so too.”

“You know,” she continued after a moment of quiet, “I’ve been working on a blanket for Kukiel.”

“Have you?”

“She’s homesick, so I thought it would be nice.” She tore a tuft of grass out of the earth. “Maybe… I could make a blanket for us, too.”

“I could get some more wood,” Link offered, “for our hearth.”

“We could sit under our blanket in front of our fire and drink tea together. Just us, for ourselves.” And Zelda thought there was no moment more perfect than this, surrounded only by the forest and its wildlife, treasuring every detail: the upward curve of Link’s lips, the presence of his hand over hers, the blush that was surely creeping onto her face.

They faced each other. “That sounds nice,” Link said, eyes traveling down to her lips, then back up to those sky-blue eyes that would always remind him of home. Not the Knight Academy, not Skyloft, not the Goddess Statue, but home: her.

He reached up and cupped her face with that same gentle care he always had, like he could lose her again with just a simple touch, and she closed her eyes and gingerly leaned in…

…and there was a rumor going around that they shared their first kiss underneath the tree by the lake.

[tatennant]

For a doctordonna prompt I really like the idea that the TARDIS is attached to donna so as a way to remember her she keeps leaving some of her stuff around Like one of her clothes among laundry or one of her favourite magazines lying around

Or maybe even sometimes repeat her voice or her laughter around as an echo to listen to her again

Maybe the doctor keeps finding her stuff around but can never figure out who they belong to or what this voice is and just brushes it off as one of the odd things about the TARDIS

The doctor doesn't even notice this was all Donna's while she is on board but after losing her .Like finding her stuff before meeting her seemed like a promise but after losing her seems like a reminder

Echoes of Donna

The TARDIS hummed softly as it glided through the time vortex, its familiar blue light casting a warm glow in the console room. The Doctor, still reeling from his recent adventures, leaned over the controls, trying to focus on the coordinates he’d set. Yet, something felt... different.

He reached for a lever, and his eyes caught a glimpse of something vibrant amidst the usual clutter—a bright red scarf draped carelessly over a stack of books. Frowning, he picked it up. “Whose is this?” he muttered, inspecting it. It felt familiar, yet he couldn’t place it.

Later, as he sorted through the laundry in a rare moment of tidying, he found a magazine wedged beneath a pile of clothes. It was an old issue of Diva, with Donna’s face smiling back at him from the cover. “Hmm, must’ve picked it up on one of our trips,” he said, shrugging it off. The TARDIS often had a way of collecting things—stray objects from adventures past.

Then, one evening, as he was tinkering with the console, a laugh echoed through the room—a bright, infectious sound that made his heart skip. “Donna?” he called out, looking around. The laughter faded, leaving only the hum of the TARDIS. Shaking his head, he dismissed it as a quirk of the time machine, something it had absorbed from their travels together.

Days turned into weeks, and the Doctor found himself surrounded by remnants of her presence—her favorite shoes left by the door, a half-finished cup of tea that had gone cold on the console, and those echoes of laughter that still lingered in the air. He chuckled to himself, believing the TARDIS had simply absorbed Donna’s essence, her spirit merging with the ship.

But one fateful day, the truth hit him like a cold wave. After losing Donna, the TARDIS felt emptier than ever. As he wandered through the console room, he stumbled upon the scarf again, now a painful reminder of the warmth she brought into his life. He picked it up, holding it tightly, and for the first time, he felt the weight of his loss.

With a heavy heart, he started to notice every item—each one was a piece of her. The laughter wasn’t just a quirk; it was an echo of the joy they had shared, a lingering reminder of a friendship that had meant everything. The Doctor realized that the TARDIS had been holding onto Donna, not just for him, but for itself as well.

Now, each item carried a bittersweet weight. The magazine, the scarf, the laughter—they weren’t just remnants; they were promises of a bond that could never be broken. He vowed to cherish those echoes, to carry her spirit with him as he continued his travels through time and space.

“Goodbye, Donna,” he whispered, a tear escaping as he placed the scarf gently on the console. “You’ll always be part of this ship… and my hearts.”

With that, the Doctor set the coordinates, ready to face whatever came next, with echoes of Donna guiding him through the vastness of the universe.

[sichore]

Also 23 for the otp prompts!

tagging @nightklok because they asked for this prompt too! it got away from me a bit... like 2K words a bit.

23. Write about your ship supporting each other through a hard time.

MagJam | mention of MagCharles | 2271 words | post s2. ep. 19 Black Fire Upon Us | non-explicit sex

Mordhaus is attacked and the first thing Magnus feels is worry, sick and gnawing in his gut as he tries to go about the shop as usual. Are they okay? Did they make it out? And the anchorman goes on to say no, they did not. 

All the money and fame in the world didn’t stop them from being infiltrated, invaded like the micronation of shit that they are, and now Charles is dead.

Charles is dead.

Time passes in a haze, swirled and blurred images of life moving on regardless. Nairi notices and asks what’s wrong and he can’t bring himself to tell his daughter the truth. “Nothing. I’m fine. How was class?” And Nairi’s furrowed brow is a mirror of his own, but eventually she stops asking, her hands no longer hesitating as she tells him about her day.

Charles is dead and the hate and resentment that’s built up over the past decade is numbed by a wave of grief so deep that Magnus finds himself visiting the liquor store more and more because he can’t bring himself to touch the bottle of arak in his cabinet. He’s far from sober, but he usually doesn’t let beer bottles collect in his recycling bin this fast. They gather like his regrets and dreams, empty and dusty and sometimes broken before he tosses them out, and then the pile grows all over again.

Two weeks go by. Maybe a month. And then Jimi comes back.

“Oh, hey!” She greets him in a scene like an echo of a time past and it takes his breath away. Jimi, standing in his kitchen with Nairi as they put away groceries, smiling as brightly as she did the first time they did this so many years ago when Nairi was much smaller.

“We were gonna make dinner, but we got a bit carried away at the store,” Jimi apologizes, shrugging, and holds up a takeout container. “How’s Italian sound?”

“Good.” Magnus swallows down the lump in his throat and hopes that eases in the hoarseness in his voice. “I didn’t know you were back.”

“Some stuff came up at work, so…” Jimi shrugs, doesn’t exactly meet his eye. “Here I am!”

Dinner comes from a local Italian spot that Magnus and Jimi had gone to once, together, the evening they decided that no, this probably shouldn’t be a thing. The bread is still soft, the pasta exquisite, and the sun-dried tomatoes far, far sweeter than Magnus remembers.

“There were some changes,” Jimi says, once Nairi retreated to her room for the evening to leave the two of them to polish off the bottle of white wine Jimi had picked up ‘for fun’. Her gaze stays focused on her stemless glass, swirling around her drink. “So I’m finally back here for the time being.”

“For how long?” Magnus ventures, trying not to think about how much his world has shrunk since Jimi started spending more time away at this mystery job than her apartment. Since he was left behind, three times now.

“Mmh, not sure.” And Jimi sets her glass down on the coffee table, curls a leg up onto the couch so she can face Magnus. “How ‘bout you? How have you been?”

Terrible. “Fine.” Spiraling. “Same as usual.”

“You look tired, Magnus.”

He doesn’t have an answer for her.

Jimi is home a lot now. His home, which could have been hers, too. Magnus doesn’t realize how much he’s been slacking on groceries until he starts coming home to the fridge constantly being stocked with more than takeout, leftovers, and beer. Nairi is bright and cheery the following weeks after Jimi takes her on a shopping spree, and frequently sports a colorful jacket from one of her shows.

One evening, Magnus comes home after closing shop to find Jimi asleep on his couch, having been in the middle of folding laundry. She’s not even that good about putting away her own clothes from what he recalls.

He reaches down to brush an errant curl, stops himself, and instead moves her glasses to the side table. It’s enough to wake up the artist.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” she says hastily, rubbing her eyes and sitting up. “I was just –”

“Jimi, what are you doing?”

The way she pauses and her eyes widen in embarrassment makes Magnus kick himself for his lack of tact, but he can’t bring himself to stop. “I mean, you’ve been –”

“Weird, ah, I know. It’s weird. Sorry. I’ll just go–”

“No. Shit, I’m sorry, don’t –” Don’t go, please. She starts to rise and he places his hand on her shoulder and the way Jimi looks up at Magnus makes him jolt. A dormant urge sparks to life and he’s not so quick to snuff it out. “I’m sorry. I appreciate everything you’ve done, really. I know I’m not great at showing it.”

And he pauses, the words sending him down a completely different train of thought. He redirects. “And Nairi’s been really happy to see you again.”

Ignoring the protest in his knees, Magnus kneels down to be more at Jimi’s level, and he sees the way she sucks in a breath, hands clasped in her lap. He tosses his hair over his shoulder with a jerk of his head. “You’ve just got me worried, is all.”

The way Jimi presses her lips together and her eyes harden, he expects her to challenge him right back, because he knows the bags under his eyes haven’t gotten much better since she first asked about them. That the recession is hitting everyone hard, the shop hasn’t been doing its best, and Jimi just seems to be biding her time while making sure Nairi has everything she needs.

And Magnus is grateful, even if his pride is wounded a bit. It’s really not a talk either of them wants to have. “Listen, if you need to come back to the shop for a bit, it’s not a problem–”

“It’s not that,” Jimi interrupts, then sighs, looking away. Her hands twist in her lap and this time Magnus doesn’t hesitate to take one. He watches Jimi’s shoulders sag, and the fight leaves her body, replaced with an emotion he can’t identify that’s gone as fast as a ripple. “I’ve just got a lot of time on my hands. Maybe I should go back to school. Actually finish this time.”

“That’s not a bad idea.”

“Mmh.”

He forgot how small her hands were compared to his, long and knobby and weathered as they are. Jimi holds his hand much more carefully than he handled all those bottles he knocked back. She looks at him now and her eyes are dark as midnight in the summer. He can see the glitter of stars, feel the warm breeze in his hair, the blades of grass on his skin.

“... hey, Magnus…”

“Yeah?”

Jimi squeezes his hand, worries her lower lip with her teeth. Soft, plush lips that he remembers should be treated delicately. “... Lemme finish up here.”

He’s not sure what he was expecting. He should be used to disappointment. “Right, yeah. Okay.”

Weeks and months pass and Magnus remembers feelings other than grief and monotony and apathy. Even tragedy can’t stop Dethklok from flaunting their wealth before the world and that familiar sneer of disgust curls Magnus’ lip, before he changes the channel away from news of that damn statue.

Charles is dead and Jimi’s back and the need for revenge still burns in his chest and Nairi is healthy and well. It’s not exactly his normal, because he’s missing more than he usually is, and maybe some part of him really did believe that negotiating his royalties wouldn’t be the last time he spoke to Charles. It was the band, the rest of those selfish assholes who cast him out, and Charles wasn’t much better than himself, casting away his heart in favor of reaching his goals.

Magnus feels like he’s on the verge of waking from a dream, like maybe he’s getting to the acceptance phase, when Jimi turns to him and says Nairi’s gone for the weekend.

And he snaps out of whatever haze he was in. “Oh?”

“Yep,” Jimi chirps, shrugging. She’s more relaxed as of late, did actually take up classes again. Went to see her family. Said work had slowed down, but it was fine, apparently. “Told her and Haséyá to go have some fun.”

That would explain the text he got from his daughter. “I see.”

“She won’t be back until Sunday afternoon.”

Jimi smells really nice today. “Uh huh.”

“So… I thought we could watch movies, or something.”

“... Oh.”

She does not want to watch no damn movies.

It’s Friday night and Magnus is not alone and he doesn’t really need to concern himself with opening the shop tomorrow. Or for the whole weekend. Jimi is dressed simply in a shirt and sweats and what seems to be little else, now that he takes a good look at the dips of her chest. Jimi is turned towards him on the couch, same as the first night she returned, only this time she’s not asking how he’s doing.

The offer has stayed open all these years and now she gives him an answer. Yes, now, because if not, when? Magnus’ breath catches, and her fingers brush his knee, and the walls he had started building up again atop his mound of grief come crumbling down.

Jimi’s hand is small against him. Her skull, too, feels tiny cradled in his hands as he threads long fingers into her thick hair to draw her face near. Magnus only sees half as well as he used to, yet he plainly sees that beneath the care and sweetness that is Jimi is a pain he can’t identify. He asks if she’s sure and she nods her consent. The last time they kissed outside of the holiday season was on that doomed date. Kissing her feels like tasting the rain after a long drought, only it pours, and pours, and pours.

Magnus pulls back from the deluge and the whimper Jimi lets out takes the rest of the air from him. He takes her hands in his own, kissing her palms and fingertips, unsure if they are promises or apologies. Jimi accepts them all the same. She accepts his touch everywhere; rough calluses over smooth skin, a vice grip on her soft hip, and his longing into the aching core of her.

For her, he tries to be a gentle lover, but Jimi doesn’t let him. She doesn’t look at him much, but they both have a lot of hair in the way, and with him having only one eye, Magnus isn’t sure if he wants to glimpse anything other than whatever pain drove her back here. This, at least, is familiar territory to him, so when she claws at him and holds him tighter, closer, he ducks his head down, and gives it back tenfold.

He buries himself in her and with it he tries to bury that grief, that guilt, the ‘what-ifs’ and ‘could be’s’ that haunt him every time he looks into the mirror and sees that pale ghost staring back at him. It’s far less than she deserves, but Jimi takes it all the same, and in turn does not allow him to ride the bliss that follows release. No, she drags more from him with biting nails and pleading cries, with a voracity that shatters any illusion of innocence he may have still held towards her.

Jimi’s arduous cries turn to shouts, turn to sobs, and eventually, their mingled, labored breaths. In the wake of the storm there is stillness, and silence, and for a while, there is no loneliness.

It’s been twenty years or more since Magnus has shared a bed with anyone through the night. He never did with Mari, and the last person he remembers doing so with is dead. But Jimi stays with him until morning and it’s not as strange as it could be when he wakes up and she’s smiling at him. Wearing his shirt. Pushing his hair from his face and chiding him for not tying it up.

He doesn’t ask if she was thinking of someone else, too, in the dark. In the morning light, she’s looking at him, kissing him, swinging her legs over his hips and sinking down onto him. Jimi moves like the waves and Magnus lets her pull him under.

Afterwards, once she’s cleaned up and he finally manages to rouse himself from bed and do the same, he finds Jimi in the kitchen. The tea she claimed she’d make is unbrewed. Instead, she stands at the sink, the water running over her fingers as she stares with an unreadable expression.

It’s the crack in the otherwise perfect image of her standing in his kitchen, in his shirt, still wearing his scent. Maybe this will only last the weekend. Maybe this is all he’ll ever have. But he had nothing before, has nothing with Charles dead, so he’ll hold onto what little he has, however long he has.

“Hey,” Magnus says softly, jolting Jimi out of her trance.

“Oh, hey.” Her smile is weary. “Sorry, I guess I just kinda zoned out there.”

Magnus says nothing at first. Just closes their distance and wraps his arms around her. With their height difference, her face presses to the center of his abdomen. “It’s okay.”

Jimi’s arms wind around him, too. For a moment, he feels the gravity of a collapsed star, and his raspy voice fills the void. “It’s okay.”

[Soft OTP Prompts]

[bigfrozenfan-fanfics]

Chapter 76 - Kristoff at the Royal Navy base

Links: Chapter overview, Character list, Map, Glossar Rating: M over all Publishing cycle: around every 2-3 weeks

Remarks: all my chapters contain carefully selected music tracks (try to use headphones). It’s your own decision if you want to use them or not while reading. The purpose is to musically support the respective mood of the plot. If you can please use a browser for reading (not the Tumblr app) due to the text formatting and music.

Eriksen and Kristoff talked for more than an hour as they looked around the fortress inside. Kristoff was also taken to the very top of the roof, where he had a good view of the whole area. Kristoff had never been to the naval base before and was quite impressed by everything here. Eriksen promised to take him round the small peninsula later and show him everything, including the shipyard. However, there was one exception, as Eriksen said, because Kristoff was not allowed to enter the prison camp. But that didn't bother him, as he wasn't interested in seeing Arendelle's criminals.

          A little later, they returned downstairs and into the admiral's large office. Kristoff couldn't help but take a look around. The walls were piled high with books on nautical science, shipbuilding and reports on other countries and kingdoms. Many pictures about the sea, ships and foreign islands hung on the walls and, of course, certificates of the admiral’s achievements, including a captain's licence. All bearing the seal of the royal house of Arendelle and even signed by King Agnarr, as Kristoff noted.

          “So, what is the reason for your presence on the base?” asked Eriksen, watching him from his armchair.

          Kristoff sat down opposite him in another chair and rambled on a little. He talked about the queen's plan to form a new royal council and that the Baron of Snoob had tipped him off to include the naval base in his search.

          “I don't know if you can help me there, Admiral Eriksen. But it seems to me that matters concerning the Royal Navy should be represented on the council. After all, two ships are currently on their way to allied kingdoms on behalf of the queen to help us out of the supply crisis and ask for support there.”

          “Yes, I am of course aware of this assignment and have known the two captains personally for many years. They are good men and ideally suited for such an important mission,” replied Eriksen, “However, we hardly have any potential candidates for the royal council here at the naval base. Most of the sailors work as specialists in the shipyard, are in captain's training or other important positions for our fleet, or are simply ship's crews. The rest are guards or are busy with the prison camp and of course those who are only responsible for supplies and everything that goes with it, so they don't have much nautical experience.” He paused for a moment and thought.

          “Our base is actually set up like a small town where everyone does normal jobs. We have blacksmiths, rope and sail makers, bakers, butchers, the laundry, various craftsmen and of course everything else that goes with nautical and ship supplies. The only people I can think of for the council are our veterans, who are now retired and have gained a lot of experience in their lives. I will of course think carefully about your request and talk to them. However, not everyone is likely to be interested and want to change their lives so drastically. Quite apart from the fact that the families here or over there also live in Snoob, especially the children who can only attend school there. That affects most of us here on the peninsula, by the way.”

          “I can understand that very well,” said Kristoff. “It was just an idea and not binding. The queen selects the most suitable men and women from all the candidates from across the kingdom after they have personally auditioned.”

          Eriksen nodded. “Very well, may I offer you some refreshments before we go to the shipyard?”

          “No, thank you, admiral. But I have another request and Her Majesty doesn't know anything about it yet. It is to be a surprise for her and it would be my personal decision to take care of it. It's also a somewhat sensitive issue for a reason.”

          “Well, that depends on whether I can help you. What is it about?”

          “I wanted to ask if I could get passage on a ship to Weselton.”

          The Admiral raised his eyebrows and placed his index fingers against each other in front of his mouth with a thoughtful expression, tapped them against his lips a few times and mumbled a quiet “Hmm…”.

          “Weselton … I assume it's about the same problem, the supply of food and animal feed in the capital, right?” Kristoff nodded. “Well, Weselton isn't too big an island and they import more than they have to offer. Except wool and sheep, as far as I know, and fine cloth, which they sell at a premium. I once had the dubious pleasure of meeting the Duke there many years ago. Do you know him?”

          Kristoff cradled his head. "I met him once years ago, at one of Arendelle's sled races where he cheated. Other than that, not in person, no, but I know the stories about him and why trade with this kingdom was stopped a few years ago … because of that Duke. He must have been quite out of line back then and also had a very …”

          “… greedy and unfriendly behaviour? Yes, that suits this little chap. However, his nephew Lord Rupert Wolfgang is much more sociable and even quite helpful, the complete opposite of the old Duke. However, his behaviour takes some getting used to, not to say annoying. It seems to run in the family.” Eriksen laughed softly. “But still, if you're going to get in touch with anyone there, you'd better do it with him.”

          “That's interesting, I didn't know that. Thank you very much for this valuable information!” said Kristoff in surprise. “But, the passage … can you help me with that? However, Sven, my reindeer, and my carriage would also have to be on board, if possible, as I plan to disembark directly in Arendelles harbour on the return journey.”

          “Normally, we don't offer ship journeys for strangers, no matter how much they would be prepared to pay, but that doesn't apply to you, Your Highness, of course. I think I already have the right ship in mind for you and also for your luggage, so to speak,” he smiled.

~~~

After Mattias knocked on Halima's front door and she opened it for him, she fell into his arms with tears of joy in her eyes. It was still broad daylight in Arendelle, but next they both disappeared into the bedroom, tore off their clothes and made love, tenderly and intimately, as if it were the first time for both of them. They were able to take their time, as Elin was still at the castle and had her usual lessons with Olaf. Halima wasn't due to pick her up again until the afternoon and had been working in her room in the meantime. Until her beloved Destin suddenly appeared at the door.

          A little later, she prepared lunch for them both. Nothing special and consisting mainly of leftovers that were still in the kitchen and the icebox on the floor and, of course, a few fresh ingredients from the garden. But that didn't matter to either of them, because they were finally together again and had a lot to talk about. But Mattias avoided going into detail about some of the things he had seen and experienced, as he didn't want to frighten Halima.

          “I'm so glad that nothing happened to you, Destin, and that you didn't suffer any more serious injuries. There's no bandage and not even a scratch to be seen.”

          “I was very lucky, to be honest. A lot of men have had a very different experience. We've had so many losses, Halima, but I'd rather not talk about it right now.” He sighed and grabbed her hand on the table.

          “I saw the grief in the city and also saw the many wounded in the new hospital. I wanted to help in some way. The queen even gave a moving speech at the memorial service. But I can't and don't want to imagine it all and I was most afraid for you all the time, darling. Thank you for this beautiful but really sad letter, by the way.”

          “You cried a lot, didn't you?” She nodded and put her other hand over his. “I was afraid of that, but I was also afraid to tell you everything in person.”

          “It's all over now and you've come back to us safe and sound.”

          “Let's just stop talking about it, Halima, and think about the good things instead. You said that you carried on upstairs in Elin's room. I'd like to take a look at that.”

          “I'd love to, Destin. Let's go upstairs now. I also got her something to paint and hung up some pictures. I hope she likes it. I just finished it earlier and we could pick her up together later and then go out for dinner for the three of us, what do you say?”

          “Sounds good. She's never been to dinner with us before, so it could be a bit of an adventure for her.”

          “Oh yes, you're right, Destin,” she replied as she slowly climbed the stairs and he followed.

          The room was now tidy and very clean, the windows had also been cleaned and it no longer smelled as stale as before. There was no more dust in the air and a fresh, cool breeze blew in through the open windows. Elin's bed now even had a canopy over it and her doll, which Mattias had got for her, was lying directly on her pillow.

          A few picture books were piled up on a small round table with a low chair in front of it, as well as colouring materials next to a small easel that Halima had used herself many years ago. She had only had to replace the paint because the old pots had dried up long ago. Halima had hung the pictures she had painted and some photographs on a few more hooks on the sloping roof walls. All in all, the room now radiated warmth and cosiness.

          “I'm impressed, dear, you've done everything really beautifully. Elin will be thrilled, I'm sure of it.”

          “You know, Destin, I've been thinking about her a lot. Since she's been with us and Olaf has been teaching her to read and write in the castle, and she's even been allowed to meet the queen in person, she's changed a lot. She is no longer as shy as she used to be in the orphanage. Quite the opposite. She has opened up a lot and doesn't even seem to think about her bad past anymore.”

          “Have you ever heard her cry at night? You don't forget memories like that so quickly and who knows, maybe she dreams about it at night and just doesn't want to show us or doesn't dare to talk about it.”

          “Maybe, but I haven't heard anything like that yet, not even in the castle. Maybe she's banished it all to her innermost depths, who can say. But I think she's ready and …”

          “… can go to school and get to know lots of strange children around her?”

          “Yes, Destin, that's right. You took the words right out of my mouth. She is friendly to everyone she meets without fear, is curious and eager to learn. She wants to learn, Destin, and she's good at it. Elin has a really good grasp of things and understands many things more quickly than other children her age. I think interacting with children she doesn't know is the next important step for her, because she still needs to learn that too, and she's also getting to know the other children's games, which is also very important.”

          “Yes, you're certainly right, dear. I just hope the other kids won't tease her too much.”

          “It'll be fine, Destin. Besides, we can't look after her all day and Elin can't be in and out of the royal castle all the time. You'll be busy at the council and with other things during the day and I need to get back to work at Hudson's Hearth. She'll be studying at school and won't be able to be with a magical snowman all the time. Instead, she'll make new friends of her age and play and learn with them.”

          “Then let's go to the orphanage first thing in the morning and sign the contract with Liv for the adoption. And tonight, after dinner, we'll ask Elin very carefully what she thinks about the idea of officially going to a school.”

          “But first, and before we pick up Elin, I have something to show you that I'm sure will make you happy. Do you remember a few days ago when I was looking through all the old pictures up here in the corner? I found a very old one and you asked me what surprised me so much.” Mattias nodded.

          “What is it?”

          “Follow me.”

          Halima walked down the stairs with Mattias right behind her and bent down under the slope beneath the steps. She then pulled out a large framed picture and held it out for Mattias to see, smiling. He widened his eyes in sudden recognition and took the frame from her hands.

          “Let's go outside in the garden, it's brighter there than here and the colours on the oil painting will shine much brighter.”

          Halima was right, because as they stood outside in the afternoon sun, the painting suddenly seemed much more vivid to Mattias. It showed him in his new uniform as a newly appointed lieutenant with the great task of looking after the king's young son, the future King Agnarr. Next to him stood a young Halima, slim, with long brown hair and, in his eyes, simply beautiful. He himself had short black curly hair and no beard at all. He radiated strength and confidence in the picture, with one hand on Halima's shoulder, while they both smiled proudly and happily at the viewer.

          “Oh, Halima, that you still have this old picture of the two of us is a real treasure! Thank you so much. Look how young we were back then and the look on your face … I have no words … you were the most beautiful girl in all of Arendelle for me back then … and you still are …”

          He gave her a kiss on the lips and she hugged him as they both looked at the painting together.

          Mattias couldn't take his eyes off the picture and as he ran his finger over the painted face of his beloved, a tear of joy rolled down his cheek. Halima noticed immediately and cuddled up close to him so that they could reminisce together about a time when they were still freshly in love and making big plans.

~~~

Master Fabian was still pondering as he unlocked the front door of his fencing school and flat. The first thing he did was make himself a herbal tea in the kitchen and sit down at the large table in the fencing room, whose windows afforded a good view of the harbour and the castle. It had been a terrible few days and he had almost been too late to defend Anna, the queen, when Thord attacked her. It had been very close. He reviewed it all again when he could finally sit in peace and sip his steaming cup of tea.

          He had not even had one day to rest from the stress of the previous days when now the Queen was sending him to Corona, of all places. A kingdom to which he never intended to return; he mused.

          It was, of course, a beautiful land and kingdom, after all, he had grown up and spent his childhood there. He later learnt to master the art of fencing and even went travelling at a young age to perfect his skills. He had also heard about another brotherhood and wanted to know more about it.

          He was or had to be a member of the one from Corona, of course, as everyone who wanted to become a fencing master did, but the two brotherhoods had always been in rivalry, as he soon realised. There were always competitions to prove that one followed the better doctrine and ultimately this also led to unauthorised duels between a few hotheads. He had always stayed out of it and strictly followed the code. But when his father was unintentionally involved in one of these duels one day, he couldn't help but stand by his side.

          His father had always been his great role model and since Fabian's mother had died of a serious illness, his father was all the family he had left. He was ultimately the one who taught him how to use a sword, dagger and battle staff in the years that followed. He taught him to be able to defend himself and stand on his own two feet, to believe in himself and to always adhere to the code of the aspiring fencing masters once he had joined the brotherhood. And one day his father brought Fabian in and he actually passed all the exams with flying colours. His father was very proud of him and it was a dream come true for Fabian. He was officially made a fencing master.

          Until the day his father faced three good fencers from the other brotherhood at dusk to avenge one of his friends who had been stabbed in a duel that day. Fabian had to watch everything from a distance because his father had forbidden him to interfere, so he rushed to his father's aid because his life was in danger. But he was only moments too late and a sword had pierced his father's heart.

          Fabian was beside himself with grief and anger as he knelt next to him and clutched him with tears in his eyes. Then Fabian forgot all his resolutions and the code, jumped up, drew his sword and attacked himself just as the other three were about to make their escape.

          It was a fierce fight, in which he immediately killed one of them and seriously wounded the one who killed his father. However, the remaining man inflicted a deep cut on Fabian's leg so that he could no longer walk properly and made off with the wounded man.

          In the end, the brotherhood in Corona realised everything and expelled Fabian from the community, even threatening him with imprisonment. Fabian therefore drew a line, took all the family's savings and the best weapons, booked himself a ship passage with a destination far away from Corona and finally landed in Arendelle. That was decades ago now and the fencing master sighed before draining his cup and heading upstairs to pack for the journey.

          The ARN Voyager would set sail from the naval base in the early hours of the next morning and dock in Corona a few days later. So he didn't have too much time left to get there on one of the small sailing ships in the harbour.

          He was already standing at the stairs when there was a knock at the front door. Who could it be, Fabian asked himself and opened the door. Standing in front of him was one of the soldiers who had been with the troop that had killed Karrál's sub-leader.

          “Master Fabian, hello, I apologise for turning up unexpectedly and disturbing you,” he began, a nervous, almost hurried expression on his face as he looked behind him and around. Almost as if he was checking that no one had followed him.

          Fabian didn't miss this and interpreted it correctly, as he would soon realise. So he quickly invited him in.

          “Come in, soldier. I don't have much time, though, because I'm currently preparing for my journey.”

          Once the door was closed, the man got straight to the point. “I … er … I mean, there's something I can't deal with, something that happened in the forest in the north and that's been on my mind ever since. I'm afraid that someone even followed me up here because of it, because on the Crocus I stayed apart from those people, especially one of them, and maybe even behaved suspiciously.”

          “Come to the table in the fencing room and tell me about it. I can guess what it's all about and you needn't be afraid.”

          “Thank you, Master.”

          Shortly afterwards, the soldier told the whole story as he had experienced it. Fabian quickly realised that he had credibly not taken part in the actions and had even been threatened not to tell a soul when it was all over. The soldier fumbled around and visibly struggled to name the person responsible.

          “You know that this man committed a war crime and must be held accountable for it, and maybe others who had no problem helping him. No single person could commit such an offence. You must tell me the names, it's your duty, soldier!

          It took a while, but finally he came clean and named two more names in addition to the main culprit.

          “Am I now also being charged because I stood by and didn't do anything about it? I mean, I stood up to it as best I could, but there were five of us in the unit. I was very scared and could only watch what they were doing. Only one of us stood a little apart like me and when we looked at each other in shock … it was cruel …”

          “I'll keep you out of it as much as I can, but you'll have to make a statement because you're the only witness who had the courage to tell me the truth. But don't be afraid.”

          The soldier breathed a sigh of relief and sighed so loudly that you could literally hear the stone fall from his heart that had been weighing him down so heavily. Fabian put a hand on his shoulder to reassure him.

          “I'll inform General Mattias. He'll organise everything else while I'm out of the country. Do you have somewhere to hide until the trial?”

          “Yes, I have.”

          Fabian then learnt the location and would pass this information on to Mattias with all the other details before boarding. He dismissed the soldier, looked after him for a few more moments and finally picked up where he had left off a good hour ago.

~~~

Anna was working on drafts for this year's town competitions when there was a brief knock and Elsa entered.

          “You're back so quickly,” she greeted her sister.

          “Quickly? Have you looked at the clock? It's almost three.”

          “Really now? Time has flown by.”

          Elsa stood behind her and looked over her shoulder. “What are you doing right now? Looks like a lot of fun.”

          “That's what it is. I'm working on the new competitions for the end of the year, before Christmas.”

          “We've been through this before,” Elsa said, tapping the paper that said 'ice carving'.

          “It's obvious that you're the first to notice, isn't it? There will be stricter rules this time and people with ice magic won't be allowed to take part or help others.” She looked up at Elsa and grinned mischievously.

          “You just don't want to let me win again, sis. But that's all right, as long as our citizens and the children have fun.”

          “How did it go up on the cliff?”

          “I think Yelana's a bit disappointed.”

          “What, why is that?”

          “Because she can't accompany the master builders back to camp on a big ship, only on one of the little one-masted sailboats.” Elsa grinned.

          Both sisters laughed out loud.

          “Well, who would have thought that a Northuldra, and their old leader on top of that, would take so much pleasure in travelling by ship.”

          “That's true. Besides, she hasn't got a bit seasick yet and that's saying something. What are your plans for today, sis? Are there any important documents waiting for you?”

          Anna shook her head, “Nope, just writing the letter for Mari, then I've got the rest of the day.”

          “And that rarely happens when you're Queen of all Arendelle, believe me.”

          “I know, Elsa, I realised that this afternoon and my head was spinning afterwards because I had to hurry so much. The text for the Sunday paper only went to the printers shortly after we returned. I finished it while you were away with Yelana. So the paper should have been out everywhere about three hours ago and that's really late this time. So I've told the printers to make it a late edition.”

          “A late edition? Interesting choice of words and I've never heard of such a thing. But it's very aptly worded and who knows, you might even have made history as the first queen to invent a late edition for a newspaper.”

          Anna had to laugh. “Thank you, Elsa, it just came to me.”

          “So you could apply our conversation's ideas from a few days ago just in time, that's good. I hope the citizens also use our ideas and go out into nature, fishing or hunting.”

          “I hope so too. I almost didn't think about it either, with all the events since then. But everything is fine now and I hope Kristoff and Kai in Snoob are too. I wonder what my darling is up to at the moment,” mused Anna, looking through the open window into the grey cloudy sky.

~~~

Eriksen had not promised too much, the shipyard was impressive and much larger than he had imagined. At the moment there was the bare hull of a two-masted brigantine or schooner brig, as the commander explained. Dozens of carpenters and sailors were working on it and Kristoff watched them with interest for a while. After all, it wasn't something you saw every day.

          “This type of ship is particularly well suited to rough seas and can sail higher into the wind than a normal brig thanks to its design. Incidentally, this is exactly the type of ship you'll be sailing to Weselton in. Come on, I'll show you,” said Eriksen, making an inviting gesture towards the southern harbour bay, where many masts could already be seen swaying in the gentle swell from a distance.

          It was a beautiful ship, Kristoff thought, when he saw it in its finished and seaworthy condition. It wasn't too big, but there was enough space in the hold, as the commander confirmed when he asked.

          “The Draba can set sail tomorrow morning. Unfortunately, it's a bit late to prepare everything for today. If you wish, you can take a hot bath this evening and I assume you will dine with me later, Your Highness?”

          “It would be a great pleasure, Admiral Eriksen, thank you very much for the impressive tour today and all the amenities. I'm already looking forward to travelling on the Draba tomorrow. Doesn't the name come from this little rock flower?”

          “Well recognised, Your Highness, you know your botany?”

          “Not exactly, but I … used to travel a lot in the mountains above the snow line, these flowers like the cold there and bare rocky crags.”

~~~

Fabian met Mattias just as he was about to enter the castle with Halima.

          “Hello, Lady Halima,” he greeted her first with a skilful bow and she returned the gallant greeting with a smile.

          “General Mattias, a word, please,” he then said with a serious expression on his face.

          “Hello, Fabian. Is it important? We were just about to pick up Elin and take her to a restaurant for dinner later.”

          “Yes, unfortunately it is and I only have a little time because I'm on my way to Corona and have to catch the sailor to the naval base later.”

          “Oh, that's right. Halima, why don't you go upstairs to Elin, I'll be right behind you.”

          Mattias grabbed Fabian by the shoulder and pulled him aside a little. “So, what's up, my friend?”

          Fabian told him in abbreviated form what he had learnt from the soldier and Matthias' face brightened noticeably.

          “That's very good news and exactly what we were hoping for, that one of the soldiers would give in and come clean after all, without any lengthy questioning or threats. Can you make a note of the most important things in the guardroom?”

          “Already done, I wrote it down at home.” Fabian pulled out a small sealed envelope and handed it to the general.

          “Thank you, Fabian. I'll take care of it first thing in the morning. But for now, let me wish you a safe and successful journey. Please take good care of yourself in Corona and don't make any unnecessary detours.”

          “I will, Destin. I promise.”

          They sealed it with a handshake and a short but strong hug before Fabian turned and headed for the harbour. He had already put his luggage on the boat, so he didn't have to worry about anything else.

~~~

When the mounted messenger was on his way to Vesterland to deliver Anna's letter to Princess Mari, the sisters went to the dining hall to eat their evening meal. Olaf was also there and although he never had to eat, he really enjoyed the company of the sisters and always enjoyed listening to their conversations. However, they weren't very talkative tonight and Olaf had the impression that something was on Elsa's mind.

          “So, Olaf? What have you been up to today?” asked Anna.

          “Read books with little Elin.” Now the snowman was in his element, forgetting his thoughts from a moment ago and talking about Elin's learning successes and how much fun they both always had. “But Halima and Mattias picked her up a while ago because they wanted to take her to a restaurant and told me they had a little surprise for her too. I wonder what that could be. Maybe more books? Or …”

          As Olaf continued to rattle on, the sisters looked at each other knowingly, as they already suspected what it must be about.

          “…I love restaurants, can we go there sometime? What is that actually?”

          “Oh, Olaf,” said Anna, “you say that so often, even though you don't even know what you love. When you love something, you really like it because you already know it well and you like it so much. You can only eat something in a restaurant, just like here, only with strangers at different tables. Besides, you don't have to eat anything, Olaf.”

          “People or families go to a tavern or restaurant together because they want to treat themselves to something special, or because they like to be served in a particularly nice way,” Elsa added.

          “Or lovers who want to spend a particularly nice evening together, Olaf.”

          “As they say, Anna, the way to the heart is through the stomach.”

          They both laughed, but Olaf didn't understand what they were talking about. He didn't recognise a joke either, so he could only look at them both questioningly.

          When the sisters saw his face, they laughed even harder, but Olaf didn't like it at all, because this time he had clearly realised that he was the reason.

          When Anna was able to catch her breath, she apologised to him. “I'm sorry, Olaf, but seeing the look on your face was just so funny. I didn't mean any offence, honestly.”

          “It's all right, Anna.”

          “I guess there are few things you don't love, Olaf, are there?” said Elsa, still with a smile on her face.

          “There is one thing I don't like and certainly don't love,” he replied, making a sad face.

          “And what would that be,” Anna asked in a serious tone and looked at her sister, who was now looking at Olaf just as seriously.

          “If you both had to go to war again.”

          Any hint of laughter died away and the sisters nodded as they both put their hands on his shoulders.

          “We never want that again, Olaf,” Elsa said quietly.

~~~

It was already quite dark when the three of them walked along the mountain road with Elin in the middle and headed towards the building with the brightly lit windows. The little girl was already very excited and held Halima's and Mattias' warm hands tightly in hers. She had never been invited anywhere just for dinner, where probably only the very posh people ate, she imagined. She wondered if her new parents were rich and a very brief thought of her dark past flashed through her mind as she felt a sense of loneliness, poverty and hunger before quickly brushing it aside. Today was going to be a special day, without images from the past in her head that occasionally popped up in her dreams at night. Elin nodded resolutely. She now had a whole new life and felt happy.

          ”They should actually put lanterns up here,” said Mattias, “if the moon isn't shining, you can hardly see the way.”

          “Why don't you tell the queen, you have a special connection to her,” replied Halima. “I'm sure she'll listen to your suggestion. On the other hand, maybe we could have just taken a lantern with us.”

          But shortly afterwards they reached the front door of the restaurant and Mattias briefly let go of Elin's hand to hold it open for them. Snatches of conversation and quiet laughter emanated from inside and a cosy warmth spread around their faces as they entered. However, just before they did, Mattias noticed some extinguished lanterns next to the door and had to agree with his fiancée.

          The innkeeper immediately approached them and greeted his regulars with a smile.

          “General Mattias, Lady Halima … nice to welcome you back to my place and I see that this time you have a young companion … hello, little one. Same table as usual, General, and a glass of our best red wine for you both?”

          “Gladly, Reik, and a glass of juice for our little Elin, please.”

          “Very well.”

          The innkeeper invited them to their usual table and picked up the menu from the counter as they passed.

          “Unfortunately, we've had to shorten our menu a little because we're also affected by the supply problem,” he said as he handed them both the menu. “So may I suggest fish of various kinds, lobster or a game ragout with freshly picked mushrooms?”

          “We're still thinking about it, Reik, please bring us the drinks first,” Mattias replied and turned to Elin, who had just taken a seat next to Halima, looked around curiously and then ran her fingers along the large tablecloth on the round table.

          “Are you hungry or not so hungry, Elin?” he asked.

          Elin looked up at him and shrugged her shoulders, “I don't know…”

          “I already know what we're going to do. Halima, have you chosen yet?”

          “The ragout sounds good, I'll have that today.”

          “Then I'll have fish today … trout, if available … let's see,” he said as he skimmed the menu, “and an empty plate for Elin. She can have a taste of both of us then, all right, little one?”

          Elin nodded hesitantly and looked curiously over at the few other guests.

          “Good idea, my darling, I would have suggested that too,” said Halima, putting the menu aside and smiling at Elin.

          The landlord brought the drinks and they placed their order. Elin watched and listened carefully, even when the host dished up shortly afterwards and her new parents took a cloth from the table, skilfully unfolded it and placed it over their legs before reaching for the cutlery. Elin followed suit and when Mattias asked what she wanted to try first, she pointed to Halima's plate of game stew, which smelled tempting.

          “I like that one.”

          Halima slid some of her plate over to Elin's and placed it in front of her.

          However, it was a little difficult for the little girl to eat due to the low seating height and when she pushed a forkful into her mouth, some of the sauce dripped down. Elin noticed it immediately and now realised the purpose of the cloth over her legs. She smiled at Mattias, who didn't hesitate for long, stood up with a grin and took one of the higher stools in front of the counter for Elin. Now everything was perfect and the little girl tucked into one delicious piece of meat after another.

          Halima and Mattias exchanged mischievous glances.

          “I can see you really like it,” he said, “but you'd better take your time with it, Elin. You have to savour this delicious dish.”

          Elin nodded vigorously and took a sip from her glass before continuing to eat, but now chewing a little more slowly and to Mattia's satisfaction a little longer.

          When they had all finished, he topped up his and Halima's wine and ordered a second glass of juice for the girl.

          “Elin,” Halima began, looking at her questioningly, “we were thinking about something today and wondering what you'd think.” She glanced over at Mattias, who immediately understood and continued for her.

          “We think it's time you learnt not only reading and writing from Olaf, but also many other exciting things.”

          Elin was now curious and asked, “Other exciting things? What do you mean?”

          “Well, what the other children your age learn at school. From a real teacher, you know?”

          “In a school? What's that? But I don't want to go back to a home like that or something, the other children at the orphanage always looked at me so strangely and teased me. I don't like that.”

          “No, no, Elin,” Halima intervened again, “don't worry, a school is something completely different and the teacher keeps an eye on all the children at all times so that they don't do anything like that. The children there are also very different to those at the orphanage and always go home to their parents after lessons in the afternoon. Just like you do when you come home to us. But you can also play with them if you like, that's also something you haven't done before and it's great fun.”

          Elin looked at both of them doubtfully and didn't know what to say.

          “I'll make you a suggestion, Elin, we'll all go to the school down by the harbour tomorrow and you can have a look around and get to know the teacher at the same time. All right?” said Mattias and signalled to the landlord, who immediately came to him.

          “We'd like to pay the bill, please.” Then Mattias turned to Elin again and grinned, “Besides, we have a surprise for you tonight.”

          “A surprise?”

          “Yes, my dear. I've finished decorating your room today and I hope you like it,” Halima explained and Elin's eyes lit up. “Let's go home and you can think about what we've said in peace, shall we?”

          Elin nodded and after Mattias had pressed a few coins into the innkeeper's hand, they left the restaurant.

~~~

The next morning brought a pleasant surprise for the castle residents when two long covered wagons with a high superstructure drove over the bridge and then came to a rumbling halt on the cobblestones of the castle courtyard. Captain Einar immediately rushed over because of the noise and met the two coachmen, who introduced themselves to him as Snoob's inhabitants and brought supplies for the castle and the capital on behalf of His Highness Kristoff Bjorgmann.

          Einar lifted the tarpaulins of both carriages and peered curiously underneath, while the coachmen stood by his side to explain. The first wagon was piled high with sacks of flour, barrels and baskets full of vegetables and all sorts of other food supplies. On the second wagon was mainly cattle feed and many bales of hay. The captain thanked them and immediately summoned some guardsmen, who were not only to look after the two guests and the draught horses, but were also entrusted with distributing the load.

          It wasn't actually much and would hardly be enough for everyone, but it was a good start and the bakers in the town would be particularly pleased to receive so much flour. Einar sent for Olina, the cook, to make a selection for the castle kitchen and also sent for Lars and his assistant so that they could get enough fresh straw into the stables. For the captain, catering for the royal castle was the most important thing and he was very pleased with how quickly everything was done as he stood there watching everyone.

          It wasn't long before the queen, with her sister at her side, walked down the steps in front of the castle and looked around, partly in joy and partly in amazement.

          “Captain Einar, didn't Kristoff come with them? I don't see him or Sven anywhere.”

          “As far as I can tell, His Highness only ordered this delivery in Snoob and the coachmen drove everything that was in the collection centre here. They didn't mention anything else, not even a message from him.”

          Anna drew her eyebrows together and looked at Elsa.

          “I understand that Kai didn't come with them, after all we gave him a holiday with his relatives, but Kristoff should have done his job with this amount of supplies. Is he on holiday in Snoob now too or what is he up to?”

          Elsa shrugged her shoulders, “Maybe he's helping Kai with the candidates for the new council, but to be honest, I have no idea what else it could be.”

          “Hmm,” Anna said with a brooding face, “so if he doesn't turn up in two days at the latest, I'll send a messenger, believe me.”

          “Since you're talking about messengers … look who's coming, Anna!”

          She wheeled round, hoping to see Kristoff with Sven after all, but instead Princess Mari of Vesterland was riding into the castle courtyard accompanied by her bodyguard.

          Mari spotted them both at the same moment, signalled her guards to dismount and rode right up to the sisters. She then swung skilfully out of the saddle and said, “Hello, my dears!” beaming with joy.

          The three of them hugged each other warmly one after the other and Mari immediately began to talk as they all went inside. Mari walked in the middle, her arms casually draped over the sisters' shoulders and in a good mood.

          “I see that you have already received a delivery of food, which makes me happy for you. They are still collecting for it everywhere in my kingdom and the wagons should arrive here the day after tomorrow at the latest. I received your letter yesterday, Anna. I'm really sorry about what happened to you outside our castle and you can be sure that the two guards have been severely reprimanded for it. Such behaviour is simply inexcusable! Dad wasn't even at home at the time because he always visits Mum's grave with me that day and I was taking care of your supply problem afterwards.”

          “I was thinking something like that, Mari,” said Elsa sympathetically and Anna added, “but I was still pretty angry. To be honest, nothing like this has ever happened to me before.”

          “Can you stay here for a few days, Mari? We were both planning to go mushroom picking together again after a long time and it would be nice if you could join us,” Elsa asked, stopping in front of the wide staircase to the first floor, “We could have a relaxed chat about so many things.”

          “I'd love to! I haven't done that for so long and I'm sure it would be a lot of fun with you two. But I'd have to ride back on Wednesday at the latest.”

          “That's great, I'm really looking forward to it,” said Anna. “Come on, let's go upstairs for a cup of tea and if you're hungry, I'll get Olina to prepare a little something for us.”

          “Tea sounds good, but I'm not very hungry yet. The main thing is that the three of us have a cosy time together.”

~~~

Meanwhile, south of Snoob …

          Kristoff had had a good night's sleep and thanked Eriksen once again as he got into his wagon and let Sven trot off in the direction of the landing stage. Once there, he recognised a ship with a new name painted on the hull. He read 'ARN Voyager' and was willing to bet that this had been Anna's idea, at least that's how he imagined it.

          The Draba was anchored right next to it and as he was about to go on board with Sven while his car was being hoisted over the railing, someone called out to him.

          He turned around and recognised Master Fabian, who was standing in the bow of the Voyager and waving down.

          “Master Fabian, what are you doing here on the naval base?” Kristoff called up.

          “I was just about to ask you the same question, Your Highness. I'm travelling on behalf of the queen and am about to set sail for Corona. And you?” Fabian called out.

          “Erm, well … I want to surprise Anna and have decided to sail to Weselton on my own because of the same problem you're travelling for, I suppose.”

          “Indeed I am, only in the opposite direction.” Fabian laughed.

          “It's quite a long way to Corona, isn't it?”

          “Yes, that's true and I reckon it will take me three to four days, depending on the wind.”

          “It's only just under two days for me, as Admiral Eriksen told me. Were you also in the fortress overnight?”

          “No, I arrived last night on a small sailing boat from Arendelle and then lay down in a hammock right here below deck.”

          “I see … well then, have a good trip and good luck in Corona.”

          “I wish you the same, Your Highness. We could both do with a bit of luck.”

          Kristoff nodded and waved goodbye before boarding the Draba and introducing himself to the captain.

          Half an hour later, both ships set sail.

~~~

---

Remark: I hope you have enjoyed this chapter! Please leave a comment if you liked the story, I would be pleased to read your opinions, even criticisms. If you want to be tagged as soon I publish the next chapter please let me know, except you are already tagged :-)

Tagging: @true--north @annaofthenorthernlights @dronning-formynder05

[iinryer]

tell me about the self indulgent boxing fic!!! <3

self indulgent boxing fic by BELOVED!! it’s self indulgent because i box and this fucking show has given me multiple characters doing combat sports for various reasons. so i took that sandbox for a spin lol

it’s relatively chill, not an au or anything, but the concept was maddie inviting eddie to come to the gym with her one afternoon when buck is busy. the other half of the self indulgence is i get a to be so in the weeds with terms and processes and stupid shit like that. it’s delightful (to ME). but yeah. the setup is a vessel for me to talk about boxing, and the boxing is a vessel for maddie and eddie to explore some problems and issues and to have some conversations about the ways they understand each other <3 it’s actually nearly finished so if I could ever kick my own ass into gear, it’s not too much of a far fetched dream lol, here’s the opening scene:

—

It’s just after one in the afternoon when Eddie’s phone buzzes loudly across from where he’s folding laundry on the dining room table. He sighs, tossing the threadbare sleep shirt back into the basket and reaches over the mountain of dryer-warm towels to grab it before the call rings out.

His stomach drops and cold fear zips down his spine when he sees the name lighting up his screen.

Maddie Buckley calling…

He almost sends the phone flying into the basket too as he scrambles to connect the call and bring it up to his ear. Without preamble, he blurts out, “Is he okay?”

There’s a inhale and a series of cut-off sounds before surprised laughter fills Eddie’s ear. He immediately deflates and lets out a (frankly, mortifyingly) relieved huff.

“Wow, okay,” Maddie says, a smile in her voice, “apparently we need to talk more if that was your first thought,”

“I guess so,” Eddie says with an embarrassed laugh, rubbing at his jaw, “uh—hey. Hi. What’s up?”

“Well, first of all, unless something happened in the two minutes since I got off the phone with him, I promise you that my danger-magnet little brother is doing just fine with his pickup shift,” Maddie snorts, “second of all, said pickup shift is sort of the reason I’m calling, but not about Buck,”

Eddie—confused and intrigued, but still in the process of willing his adrenaline-charged heartbeat to calm down—can only hum in question as he pulls out a chair to sit down.

“I’m not sure if he told you, but we’ve been trying to box again?” she continues, an edge of apprehension peeking through for the first time since Eddie picked up, “I was hoping to rope him into going today because you guys were off but…”

“He picked up half of Dante’s 24,” Eddie finishes, understanding that part but not so much the part where— “so you decided to… call me?”

Maddie laughs again, bright and a little sheepish, “Well, Mr. Illegal-Street-Fighting, I wanted to see if you’d like to come show me some moves,”

Now it’s Eddie’s turn to bark out a startled laugh. He can’t even find it in himself to feel weird or ashamed, there’s just something so warm in the way Maddie says it. Familiar and sisterly.

He can‘t lie to himself and say he isn’t surprised by the offer, the two of them haven’t really spent one-on-one time together. They’ve got their entire support system in common, sure, but they’d been ships in the night at the call center, and Eddie was back at the 118 just before Maddie returned.

To be fair, it was probably only a matter of time before the two of them found themselves overlapping more. The boxing invite is a surprise, but everything else about it somehow feels inevitable.

He shakes his head fondly in the direction of his pile of nearly finished laundry and doesn’t even try to tamp down on his incredulous grin, “You know what? Yeah, why not,”

[crinkled-emotions]

Day 7: "Where do we go from here?"

This is pointless but sometimes we all need a little pointless lmao.

Ship: Floydsin

Warnings: N/A.

I didn't even call Hangman a slut in this someone be proud

(also NCIS: Sydney?? slaps)

-

“Where ya goin’?”

Bob paused in the middle of buckling the belt around his hips, slowly glancing up. The last time he’d checked Hangman was still asleep, buried under the sheet with his head under his pillow. The comforter was on the floor, too hot to share a bed and sleep together after their...

Activities.

“Goin’ home, I need a shower.”

“You could shower here.”

Bob snorted in amusement.

“Yeah? You gonna make me breakfast too?”

“If that’s what you want.”

He stretched out, reaching for his phone and a quick check of the time made him grimace.

“It’s barely seven... you tryin’ to make a quick exit?”

“Maybe.”

Hangman hummed, scratching at his face.

“You’re not doing it right. If you really wanted to, you’d be gone by now.”

Bob glanced over his shoulder at Hangman, rolling his eyes.

“Are you seriously commenting on my ability to sneak out after a one night stand?”

“Sure, if that’s what you think it is.”

“What else would it be, Jake?” Bob groaned. He gathered his wallet and keys, but when he went to grab his phone from the nightstand Hangman was faster and scooted across the bed, fingers grasping Bob’s wrist.

“Come back to bed,” he said, “I’ll make breakfast and we can talk... you could even shower.”

Bob swallowed. Hangman sat up, letting the sheets fall as he got up to kiss him. His hands settled on Bob’s hips, affectionately running his thumb over his skin under his shirt.

“Fine, but I want bacon.”

Bob pushed Hangman on to his back, tossing his shirt and belt back to the floor. Jake grinned.

“Hell yeah.”

-

The next time Bob stirred Hangman was gone from beside him, watch and phone missing from his nightstand while the smell of bacon wafted down the hallway. Bob reached for his glasses and then went to look for his boxers, tossed back on to the floor again. He made quick work of getting them on, taking a shirt from Hangman’s washing pile in passing considering he wasn’t sure where his ended up the second time. They were similar sizes so it wasn’t a big deal, but it had the scent of his laundry detergent on it. Rounding into the hallway, Bob followed the sound of bacon popping in a frying pan to the kitchen. Hangman was wearing a pair of running shorts and a singlet, back turned whilst he focused on breakfast. Bob leaned against the wall, heaving a sigh.

“Where do we go from here?”

“Holy shit!”

Jake whipped around, tongs in hand. He put a hand to his chest.

“Fuck, Bobby, scared me. You were still asleep when I left so I was going to do breakfast in bed.”

“Jake.”

Bob sent him a look, and Jake shrugged.

“The way I see it, we have two options,” he began. He flicked off the burner and plated the bacon with the already cooked scrambled eggs, offering one of the plates to Bob.

“Come sit,” he offered. They moved to the island, grabbing cutlery and then starting on breakfast.

“Option one; we keep it casual and open. No strings, it’s all fun and games and we both get a little buzz out of it.”

Bob hummed, reaching for the chives in a bowl to toss on his eggs, “what’s option two?”

“We actually try.”

-

“He said what?!”

“Shhhh!”

Phoenix stifled her laughter into Bob’s shoulder, barely able to hold them in. Fanboy reached for his cup of coffee, shrugging.

“You’re both adults, why not?”

“Because he’s Hangman!” Phoenix exclaimed. Bob frowned.

“He was... the most serious I’ve ever seen him.”

“Post-nut clarity; gets the best of everyone,” Phoenix hummed. She nudged his shoulder.

“Hey, we’re only joking. If you want to try, then... try.”

“It was fun... I guess I’m just nervous about getting serious only to be dicked around.”

“I’ve seen Hangman in a relationship; when he’s serious he’s serious. No dicking around- well, except for-“

“-what are we talking about?”

Hangman himself entered the ready room, crossing the wooden floors to get a cup of coffee. Whilst his back was turned, Bob held a finger to his lips toward Phoenix and Fanboy. They got the idea.

“Talkin’ about Rooster and Mav going out of town for the weekend; something about a camping trip?”

Phoenix changed the subject like a pro, as always.

“Oh yeah, Mav was really excited for it. I think Rooster was just worried about how he’s going to wash his hair while they’re gone.”

The four of them drifted into a more casual conversation, save for the fact that Hangman was now perched on the arm of the couch Bob and Phoenix were sitting on and had a hand on Bob’s shoulder. Phoenix was looking between the two of them, eyebrow raised, but she kept her mouth shut and instead stood.

“Hey, we should probably go find the other three and Mav; who knows what they’re doing right now.”

“Quiet is usually bad around here,” Fanboy agreed, dumping his coffee out too, “let’s go.”

Bob watched the two of them go and glanced up at Hangman, squeezing his hand.

“See you later?”

“We should talk tonight... clothes on, I swear.”

The pair laughed, following Phoenix and Fanboy to find the rest of their team.

-

[lilypadlys]

Laundry Day

Sunshine and Aurora have a girls trip to the mall to buy Aurora lingerie.

Ship: Aurora/Sunshine

Word Count: 1,683

Rating: Teen

Tags: fluff, domestic fluff, trying on lingerie, fade to black implied spice at the end

Read below the cut or on AO3

It all started when it was Aurora’s turn to do the pack’s laundry. Still newly topside, operating appliances was occasionally a daunting task so fortunately Sunshine was there to help.

“Dump the clothes in here right?”

“Yup. And here’s the tray for the detergent and fabric softeners. Oh before you close it, let's throw some borax in there. It’ll help deal with the smell.” Sunshine exaggeratedly waves her hand in front of her nose in reference to the smell of the boys’ dirty socks.

“Can I push the buttons?”

“Haha, sure.”

They both smile as the buttons make a little chime when they’re pushed and soon the washer begins filling with water.

“Okay, now we can fold the clean stuff while we wait.”

Thus follows the weekly challenge of discerning whose clothes are whose. Size, style, and shape doesn’t help when they all practically share clothes at times. There’s this one faded and stretched t-shirt that’s rumored to have belonged to one of Primo’s ghouls and just kept getting passed around.

Sunshine picks up a pair of neon pink panties.

“These yours?”

Aurora shakes her head.

“I wish. Mine are just the white ones.” She picks a pair of her ministry issue white cotton ones from the laundry heap. “I don’t have any pretty ones.”

Sunshine drops the panties back on the pile to stare at Aurora with that look she gets when she’s plotting something.

“What are you thinking?”

“Would you like some pretty ones?”

“I mean…honestly yeah. I wouldn’t mind it. These are someone else's though. I know we share a lot of clothing but I don’t want to steal someone’s underwear.”

“How about we get you your own? We can hit the mall tomorrow.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah, I’m not letting you deal with those itchy ones any longer than you have to. Let’s get you some new bras too, okay?”

“Okay!”

Aurora can hardly wait. She’s seen the lingerie the other’s wear. Cumulus’ sets are her favorite, lots of blues and the occasional red. She looks so stunning in all of them from her bra and panty sets to her bodysuits. They all accent her curves deliciously. Rain probably has to be a close second though. Her jaw hit the floor the first time she saw him in garters and stockings and she’s joined the others in poorly masking excuses to brush their hands and tails over the nylon. He’s derailed many a movie night by showing up in a partially tempting set. Regardless of who wears it, Aurora feels that it always makes them look so sexy. And now she gets to wear some of her own.

The next day she's practically bouncing in excitement, pestering Sunshine about when they can go to the mall. Aurora finishes her chores in record time and impatiently waits by the ministry’s garages for a sibling to take her and Sunshine on their outing. Finally though, they head out and arrive at their destination.

The sister sets them loose with promises to meet up in a few hours. Sunshine steers and over excited Aurora to their department store of choice and to the lingerie section.

“Start looking around.”

“Kay!”

Aurora skips around happily until a price tag, and its rather large number, catches her eye.

“Ahh? Why is it so expensive? It’s barely any fabric?”

Sunshine shrugs.

“Dunno. Don’t worry about it though.”

When Sunshine flashes the shiny plastic card, Aurora gasps.

“Is that Papa’s credit card?” She asks timidly.

“Nah.”

“Oh good-”

“It’s Mister Psaltarian’s.”

“Ahhh no that’s worse!”

“Eh he’s a penny pincher. He barely uses it. All that money is just sitting around, might as well use it.”

“But Aether said that’s not how credit cards work.”

“Is Aether here?”

“No…?”

“Then it’s not a problem. Now go start looking around. If you see something you like, I’ll help you find it in your size.”

“Okay…”

Aurora gives Sunshine the side eye but her attention is quickly drawn to a pretty baby pink lace bralette. She rubs the lacy trim between her fingers consideringly.

“Grab it if you like it. We’ll get a stack going of stuff for you to try on so you can figure out what you like.”

“Okie.”

After about fifteen minutes of Aurora flitting around the lingerie department, pointing at bras and panties and Sunshine grabbing and carrying them for her, they have a decent pile. Then it’s off to the dressing rooms.

“Need any help?”

“Nah, I got it.”

“Cool. I’ll wait out here.”

Aurora heads into a changing room and strips down to her panties. She grabs the bralette first and pairs it with matching panties. The combo is nice. The pink matches her cotton candy hair and the lace makes her feel fancy. One set down, like ten more to go.

One by one she tries everything on and separates them into yes and no piles. A black push up bra and matching cheeky panties join the yes pile while an ill fitting and scratchy panty quickly gets flung to the no pile. She finally redresses and pokes her head out to beckon Sunshine into the stall.

“So how’d it go?”

“Push up bras feel weird at first but I think I like them. This brand of panties is nice. Those other ones can fuck right off though. Too itchy.”

“Haha, no problem.” Sunshine grabs the offending garments to put on the clothing return rack. “Want more like the blue ones?”

“Yes please.”

“Okay, let's go find some more of those.”

They return to the lingerie section to grab a fresh selection of things for Aurora to try and again end up back at the dressing rooms. Aurora gives her ratings from behind the stall door while Sunshine waits at the ready to run and grab different sizes, styles, and colors.

Aurora waggles a neon yellow bra over the door and Sunshine snorts.

“You called?”

“Can you grab one of the next size up please?”

“On it Princess.”

Sunshine returns with the bra and a couple other panty sets that caught her eye.

“Here you go. Wanna try these as well?”

“Kay.”

After about an hour and a half, Aurora’s made her selections. She’s set up with a week’s worth of pretty, and non itchy, bras and panties. Somehow they even make it to the register without dropping anything. Sunshine pays with the swiped credit card and they’re on their way with time for a pretzel stop before they need to meet back up with the sister who drove them.

Aurora’s uncharacteristically quiet on the drive home.

When they reach their wing, Sunshine bumps her shoulder.

“Everything okay?”

“Huh? Oh yeah. Thank you for going with me!”

“No problem. Happy to help.”

Aurora opens and closes her mouth before frowning.

“Um, well…it’s just that…I dunno. I really like the stuff we picked out but…”

“Hm?”

“It’s just that Lulu, and Rain, and you and Ciri all look so good in lingerie. I didn’t feel bad, just not amazing or anything. Didn’t have like a, wow moment.”

“Tell you what. Let’s get your favorite set washed, the pink ones right? Then how about you get dressed up in it with some better lighting than in the dressing room and see how you feel. Is that okay?”

“Uh huh.”

Sunshine clips the tags and gets a load of reds going. Then in the meantime they relax, both tired from running back and forth across the department store so many times. When the dryer has finished its cycle, Sunshine retrieves Aurora’s things.

“How about you get dressed in these for me. But don’t look in the mirror yet.”

“Kay.”

Aurora strips completely this time and pulls on the new panties.

“Ooh. These are so soft!”

“Aren’t they?”

Sunshine does up the back of Aurora’s bra and adjusts the straps so it fits her better.

“Okay, don’t look quite yet.” She grabs a bundle of pastel pink satin from the garment bag. “I found these at the store too and thought you might like them. If not, no worries. We’re about the same size so I’ll steal them.”

Sunshine’s disclaimer is unneeded as Aurora’s eyes get huge and she makes grabby hands for the stockings.

“Ahh I love them!”

Sunshine helps her slip those on as well, fussing over the fit of everything. Finally she steps back and nods.

“Okay, now you can look.”

Aurora turns around to face the full length mirror and she freezes.

The bralette is a tiny thing, really only supporting her underbust and leaving little else to the imagination. The panties too are scanty, cut high on her hips in the front and snug on her ass in the back.

Her eyes widen in surprise and her mouth follows in an even bigger grin. The way her body is framed tantalizingly, how her little tits are put on display, how the stockings dig into the slight swell of her thighs. She can’t help but stand a little straighter and cock her hip. Unable to find the words she makes a happy little trill and she bounces on her toes.

“Good?”

“I feel so fucking pretty!” Aurora does a little spin to admire herself from every angle.

“As you should! You look gorgeous.”

“I feel so much better about it now. I guess trying the panties on for real helps. And the stockings! Eeeee!”

Sunshine smiles, self satisfied.“I knew you’d love them.”

“I wanna go show the others!”

“...right now?”

Aurora meets Sunshine’s gaze in the mirror. The latter frowns, her pupils slanting cat-like. Predatory.

“Yeah, why?”

Sunshine sidles up behind Aurora and traces a hand over her hip. Her voice takes on a possessive edge.

“I’m not ready to have to share you yet.”

“O-oh! Hehe.” Aurora giggles, suddenly shy. “I mean, you don’t have to share…”

Sunshine slips her fingers into the waistband of Aurora’s panties and pulls it taught.

“Good.”

She releases the fabric allowing it to snap back. Aurora squeaks.

“On the bed princess.”

Aurora couldn’t make it to the bed faster if she tried.

[midgardian-witch]

I am multi-faceted and can't decide between fluff and smut today. Lol. So, NSFW Snuggle and/or SFW Clothing for 🐺 (duh)? If you do the clothing one, maybe Jack wearing his girl's shirt? It's always the girl wearing the guy's stuff. Let's branch out. Lol. Jack is smol. It would work. Hah.

Sideways related, because wolf, but I'm enjoying the 10th Kingdom gifs you've been posting too. 👍

Glad you enjoy the 10th Kingdom content! I put that in my queue when I rewatched it some time ago so this is just perfect timing for more woof content 😂

I am going with the sfw prompt because it immediately gave me an idea (took a bit longer though because I saw your ask really late last night and was already half asleep by that point 😅). You did say girl's shirt (and I agree more boyfriends should wear their girlfriend's clothes) but it turned more gn!reader other than the mention of reader owning dresses (fashion has no gender but ya know).

Hope you like it 💙

Tangled Up

Send me a prompt and a character and I'll write a reader drabble

tags: fluff | Scent Kink (hinted) | established relationship | mentions of reader owning dresses | gn!reader

ships: Jack Russell/Reader

AO3

(edit: I just now realized I totally forgot to put the tags in. I am so sorry 😭)

(edit 2: added AO3 link)

[CLOTHING] Person A finds Person B wearing their clothing.

You were exhausted. If everything had worked out like you had planned you'd have been in bed cuddling with your boyfriend hours ago. But of course things didn't go like you wanted them to. 

The door falls closed behind you with a heavy thud. You throw your bag to the side carelessly and walk into your flat but there is no sign of Jack. You expected him to perk up at the first sign of your arrival but alas neither hide nor hair of your werewolf boyfriend in either the living room or kitchen. 

"Jack? I'm home, baby!" 

Your call is left unanswered. That's unusual. Your brows furrow as you wander your flat until you stand in front of your bedroom door. Inside you hear a soft whimper. Your heart sinks into your stomach, dread pulling it down heavily. 

Was Jack hurt? Is that why he didn't greet you as soon as you entered the flat? 

With panic rising in your throat you open the door. The sight that greets you takes your breath away. 

In what can only be described as a nest of clothing lies Jack, dressed in nothing but a very familiar looking hoodie. He's curled around your pillow, your pajamas squished between it and his face. Every inhale of air is followed by a soft little whine from Jack. 

He looks so cute that it hurts you physically. 

You clear your throat awkwardly and at the sound his face immediately pops up. As Jack sees you his eyes grow wide and with an excited yelp he tries to scramble off of his makeshift nest. In his haste he gets tangled in some of the laundry. It's an adorable sight, like a puppy stuck in a blanket. 

You try and fail to stifle your giggling as you watch Jack struggle to get out of his nest. You decide to have mercy on him and walk over to him. He looks up at you as you stand at the edge of the bed, his eyes sparkling with joy. Dear god, you were only gone for a while but you've missed him. And by the Look in his eyes know he missed you too. 

You lean down and place a soft kiss on his lips. 

"Sorry for keeping you waiting, love" 

"You're here now. That's what matters, mi amor."

Your eyes wander his handsome face and travel downwards to the hoodie he had wrapped himself in. On closer inspection you realize why it looked so familiar. 

"That's mine, isn't it?" 

Jack tries to hide his embarrassment and his face inside the hoodie. His antics make you laugh again. He mumbles something into the soft fabric that you don't quite catch. 

Your hands cup his face and you tilt his head up tentatively, his eyes looking right into yours. No words leave your lips, you just raise your eyebrow, silently asking him to repeat himself.

"It's all yours,” he admits, gesturing towards the piles and piles of clothing. Shirts, pants, dresses, underwear, everything he could get his hands on, “I missed you, mi vida. So I-...well…"

You can feel the heat in his cheeks against your fingers. You're breathless for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest. He had missed you so much that his first instinct was to surround himself with your things, your scent. 

The love you feel for him swallows you whole, like crashing waves pulling you down. It’s too much all at once, this ocean of emotion in which you'd gladly drown.

“I love you,” you choke out the words, tears of joy threatening to spill out at a moment's notice. His kind eyes watch you, his own breath caught in his throat as he recognizes the raw emotion on your face. His hands find yours against his cheek and he pulls them to his mouth, his lips peppering soft kisses to your palm and wrist.

“I love you too. More than words can describe.”

Jack pulls you towards him onto the bed. You follow his lead and join him on the pile of laundry that you’ll have to take care of at some point. But those thoughts were for later. Much later.

You lay together and bask in each other's presence. Jack curls around you like he had with your pillow before you found him and mirroring his movements you entangle your limbs with his until you don’t know where he begins and you end. You bury your face into his neck to breathe him in. You don’t need his enhanced sense of smell to notice how the scent of your favorite perfume that still clings to the fabric of your hoodie mingles with his own. You’re usually not the possessive kind and yet heat coils in your stomach.

You try to pull him even closer to you, only your clothes as a barrier between your two bodies. You want to feel his skin on yours but for now you are too comfortable just existing like this, with him curled around you and you curled around him in turn. A pleased sigh escapes Jack as you squeeze him tighter, his hands holding onto you like he never wants to let you go. And you return the sentiment. There is nothing that could come between you now, nothing that could make you let go of him. At least until you decide to strip Jack out of your favorite hoodie. 

[isindismay]

Gazpachogate Averted

Red Dwarf

T

Lister/Rimmer

No archive warnings apply

It’s Rimmer’s dream come true, he’s been invited to the captain’s supper. But he has to bring a date and all the female crewmembers are washing their hair. Can he pass off his bunkmate as his date?

Rimmer was at his wits’ end. It had finally happened, he had been invited to one of the captain’s infamous suppers. Only very special people were invited to those, and Rimmer had been waiting fourteen long years. Now his time had finally come.

By all rights, he should be smarming around, rubbing it in everyone’s faces by now. And he would be, if not for one vital thing that he had failed to anticipate.

The invitation said plus one.

He was expected to bring a date.

A date.

Now, Rimmer was no fool. He had considered this carefully. That is, after curling up into a ball and trying to cram his fist in his mouth in an attempt to quell the rising panic.

Calm down, he told himself. Any crewmember of the female persuasion would surely be glad of a chance to hang off his arm, especially as he was now so clearly marked as officer material that it might as well have been written on his forehead.

Then why were all of them suddenly washing their hair?

He was pretty sure that he had asked every woman on the ship whose name he knew. Even Yvonne McGruder claimed to be seeing someone else. She was clearly playing hard to get. But after he repeatedly asked her and she threatened to deck him, he decided he didn’t actually want to take her anyway.

His attempts to lure in a stranger with his best winning smile went equally badly. He was beginning to think that everyone must find him too intimidating. Yes, that was it. Had to be.

Ordinarily, Rimmer would have been seriously considering pulling a sickie. It wouldn’t be the first time he did that to weasel out of an uncomfortable social situation. Only, this was a chance of a lifetime.

He was looking forward to being alone so he could lie down on the floor and scream silently, but when he returned to the bunkroom, Lister had the nerve to be there, lounging on his bunk.

Rimmer turned to the little window in the room. He rested his chin on his fist and stared out at the darkness of space in a way that he would describe as heroically pensive. He was definitely in a pickle. But it was nothing compared to the scrapes General Patton had got himself out of. He just had to think.

Crunch.

Yes, he had to think.

Crunch crunch.

His concentration was broken by whatever unspeakable snacks Lister was chomping on. He whipped his head around to reprimand him, then stopped.

Lister!

Lister?

Well, he supposed he hadn’t asked everyone.

Could he even let himself contemplate such a thing?

“Look, Rimmer, I know what you’re gonna say.”

“You do?”

“I know I haven’t got the laundry pile down like you asked me, but there is a good reason for it, I swear,” he said, and shoved a handful of pretzels in his mouth, showering crumbs down himself as he began to chew.

“No that’s not it.”

“Well if it’s about the pile of dishes-“

“Would you shut up for a minute Lister?”

“All right,” Lister said, holding a hand up defensively.

Rimmer swallowed his pride and took a deep breath. He supposed this would be marginally less embarrassing than turning up alone. “Lister, would you do me the honour of accompanying me to the captain’s supper tonight?”

Lister scratched his head. “Erm…” he said, drawing the word out.

Rimmer tapped his foot. “Well?”

“Ermmm…” Lister continued. He let go of the bag of pretzels, spilling them over the bed, and started playing with his locs.

“Lister!”

“Sorry, just thinkin’ what else I’ve got on.”

“Come on, it’s a once in a lifetime chance to rub shoulders with the Space Corps elite. And! A free meal.”

“Then why didn’t you say so? You really should have led with that part,” Lister said, sitting up and dangling his legs over the side of the bunk.

“So you’ll come with me?”

“Sure.”

“There’s just one snag. You’ll be my date, so you’ll have to be on your best behaviour.”

Lister jumped down to the floor. “Woah woah woah, I’ll be your what?” he asked, coming up behind Rimmer.

“Don’t make me say it again,” Rimmer said, redness creeping up his neck.

“Do I have to call you my darling dearest?” Lister said, clasping his hands and leaning close to Rimmer’s ear.

“Don’t you dare, you’ll make me vomit.”

“Ey, you were the one who asked me. I’m gettin’ mixed messages here.”

“Of course I’d much rather have a voluptuous lady on my arm, but unfortunately they were all busy.”

Lister sniggered. “Were they?”

“Well it really was such short notice, it was inevitable really.”

“How long did you have to find someone, eh?”

“Three- never you mind! It doesn’t matter!”

“Three days? Weeks?”

Rimmer clenched his teeth and tried to will away the hot, flushed feeling. The way Lister was smirking told him that he was unsuccessful at keeping his embarrassment to himself.

“Wait, how many people did you ask before me?”

“I wasn’t counting,” Rimmer said, crossing his arms and turning away.

“Did it occur to you that I might not want to be your forty-seventh choice?”

“Lister, do you really think you’re likely to be anyone’s first choice?”

“You what?” Lister said. “I’ll have you know I’m actually very popular.”

“And yet you’re still free on Saturday night.”

“Yeah? Well when was the last time you had plans? And I don’t mean alphabetising our collection of condiment packets.”

“Well I have plans tonight and that’s all that matters.”

“Yeah, you’ve got a hot date with yours truly,” Lister said, pointing a thumb at himself. “Might be a bit awkward later on when you walk me back to me quarters and I have no choice but to invite you in whether I want to or not.”

“Lister! What are you drivelling about? Wait! You mean you’ll come with me?”

Lister smirked. “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll make sure to keep on mentioning the fifty eight women who really woulda come with you, only they all suddenly decided to become nuns.”

“Be serious, Lister. I really need to make a good impression here. This could be my best shot at securing that promotion.”

“So where did we meet?”

“What?”

“It’s a classic question. People are gonna ask us.”

“Well, here, obviously,” Rimmer said, walking over to the mirror and starting to fuss with his hair.

“Nah, that’s rubbish. We gotta come up with something better. Like we both wrote into the lonely hearts column of the ship’s newsletter and we ended up writin’ to each other for ages until we realised.”

“That’s… that’s not a bad idea.”

Lister walked up behind Rimmer and met his eyes in the mirror. “See, I’m not just a pretty face, am I? That’s how I won you over, by being thoughtful and romantic.” He slipped his arm through Rimmer’s and squeezed it.

Rimmer looked at himself and Lister in the mirror. He had to admit they didn’t look bad together. If Lister tidied himself up a little, of course. Could he really pretend they were together, even for just one night? If he wanted that promotion, he was going to have to.

*

“Right, are you ready?” Rimmer asked for what must have been the fifth time. He was standing by the door, tapping his foot.

“Yeah, think so,” Lister said.

“How is it that you’re so casual about this?”

“Why shouldn’t I be?”

“This is important!”

“Not to me it’s not. It’s just slightly fancier food than usual.”

“You’d better pretend to be more enthusiastic when we get there!”

“Well that’s gonna be hard if yer just gonna nag me all night.”

“All right, all right,” Rimmer said. He looked Lister up and down. “I have to say, you don’t look bad.” Lister had miraculously found a t shirt that was both plain and clean, a pair of trousers with only one small tear in the knee and was wearing his ship issue jacket which looked almost brand new on account of him rarely wearing it even when he was required to.

“I don’t look bad? Yer gonna hafta do better’n that. Yer meant to go all weak at the knees at the sight of me.”

“Am I?” Rimmer said, a sudden thought hitting him like an asteroid. “Wait. No. I’m not ready. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but if they’re to believe me, I’m going to have to…” -he gritted his teeth - “act gay.”

“You’re going to have to act gay?” Lister said, as if repeating the words would make them make more sense.

“That’s what I said. How do I do it?”

“Oh c’mon Rimmer, you’ve seen gay people before.”

“No I haven’t. Maybe you have, but I don’t frequent those types of places!”

Lister shook his head. “You don’t hafta act like anythin’. Gay people aren’t walking stereotypes, they just act like people.”

“Oh, right. Yep. I knew that. I was just testing you.”

“Yeah, ‘course you were,” Lister said. “Are you sure you should wear that?”

“This is my dress uniform. Everyone will be dressed like this.”

“Aren’t you like worried they might serve soup or summink? One spill and you’ll be knackered.”

“Unlike some people, miladdo, I’m quite capable of eating a meal without slopping it down myself,” Rimmer said. “Now come on, let’s not be late.”

*

As it happened, the first course was soup. Of course it was. Just to prove Lister right. Rimmer didn’t look at him, but he could feel Lister grinning next to him.

Rimmer waited for everyone else to pick up their spoons first to make sure he chose the right one, then did so himself. He ate a spoonful, and to his dismay, it was cold.

“Lister,” he hissed. “Is your soup cold?”

Lister nodded, merrily eating spoonfuls of his own soup. “It’s Gazpacho, ain’t it? Meant to be cold.”

Rimmer looked at the soup like it had personally offended him. It sounded posh, and Rimmer was angry at himself for never having heard of it before. “How do you know that?” he asked Lister in a low voice.

“Worked in a restaurant chain on Mimas for a while, you know.”

“You were a chef?”

“Nah, they mostly had me sweepin’ the floors and washin’ the plates.”

“But you wanted to be a chef?”

“Not really. I didn’t even wanna be on Mimas.”

“Then what on Io did you go there for?”

“Dunno. Don’t remember, I was kinda drunk at the time. Lost me wallet, so I had to make money to get home somehow.”

“And then you decided to join the Space Corps?”

“Not really. Just thought it’d be a better bet to get home.”

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?”

“You never asked, did you?” Lister said, slurping the rest of his soup.

Rimmer looked down at his soup bowl. At least talking to Lister had distracted him from eating that stuff. Gazpacho soup was, he decided, an acquired taste. That he hadn’t yet acquired.

Rimmer had always wondered why Lister had joined the Space Corps when he seemed so unenthusiastic about being there. Now it was all starting to make sense. He didn’t want to be there at all.

For a while, the conversation at the table washed over him as if it was something he was completely uninvolved in. The missions into space were never short. It was a big commitment. Rimmer had naively assumed everyone was as enthusiastic about being on the ship as he was. But not wanting to be there at all? Actually wanting to go home instead? He couldn’t imagine what that must be like. It hadn’t occurred to him before that Lister might be struggling. He gave such a good impression of not giving a smeg.

Between courses, Rimmer tried to laugh both first and loudest at the Captain’s jokes. Due to his nerves and the glass of wine that he was sure was far stronger than usual, this resulted in him laughing at some of the Captain’s very serious remarks instead, earning him funny looks from everyone at the table.

At the start of the meal, Hollister had introduced everyone, but Rimmer had been so busy trying to appear eager, polite and professional, that actually listening to their names hadn’t got a look in. The Captain’s date was someone he had never seen before, easily half his age. Cindy, or Mindy, or maybe even Mandy spent the whole meal smiling photogenically at everyone, especially the Captain.

Lister was saying something, and Rimmer lost in thought completely missed it. The Captain turned to him.

“So, Rimmer, I didn’t know you were such a family guy.”

“Erm, well, you see-“ Rimmer floundered.

Lister took his arm. “Oh, well we’ve always talked about settling down one day, adopting some kids.”

“Ooh that’s lovely,” said Mindy.

“Have we?” Rimmer said. Just what had Lister made up while he wasn’t listening?

“Oh, stop it, Arnie. You’re so funny. Isn’t he funny?”

Sandy threw her head back and laughed far more than was necessary.

“Settling down? So you’re planning on leaving the Space Corps?” Todhunter said.

“No!” Rimmer said, pushing Lister off him, then he remembered himself and timidly took Lister’s arm back and patted it. “Er, no.”

“I’ve always fancied myself as a stay at home dad,” Lister said. “I’ll take care of the kids, while Rimmer does… whatever it is he does.”

“Sounds like you’ve got it all worked out. I like that in a man!” the Captain said.

The main course arrived. Everyone else got pasta in a creamy sauce, but the server gave Lister an entirely different meal.

Rimmer looked at him and frowned. “What’s this?”

“You know, darlin’, ‘cause of my allergies,” Lister said.

“Allergies?” Rimmer said in a low voice.

Lister nodded and started eating. “It’s good. Wanna try some?”

To Rimmer’s horror, before he could refuse Lister was holding a forkful up to his mouth. This was ridiculous and childish, but the other diners were watching. He reluctantly ate the food from Lister’s fork.

His mouth was immediately on fire. “Mmm,” he lied, tears forming in his eyes. He swallowed and felt the burning sensation travel all the way to his stomach. He bent over and faked a coughing fit so he could wipe his eyes on his serviette, then grabbed for his wine glass and gulped down the contents and immediately regretting it. A server appeared at his elbow and filled the glass again.

The wine was going to Rimmer’s head, which at least distracted him from the burning sensation from whatever godforsaken dish Lister had been served. The other diners were chatting and laughing gracefully in between bites of food. Rimmer tried to join in, but found himself struggling to follow the conversation while he thought of something witty and insightful to add, and also found that he was eating the slowest too.

The others were talking about their relationships, and Rimmer felt compelled to add something, but it would have to be something completely fictional. None of his previous attempts at dating could provide any useable anecdotes.

It occurred to him that the other couples at the table had probably kissed, and done other things involving significantly less clothing. Were the others imagining him and Lister doing the same? He wasn’t sure which was the scarier prospect, that they were or that they didn’t buy that the two of them were together.

He glanced at Lister and flashes of images of what the others might be imagining came into his mind. Kissing Lister in the room they had shared for years, undressing each other, falling into bed. Touching Lister’s body. Lister touching his body. Suddenly the room felt very hot. Rimmer took a sip of his wine. It didn’t help.

Rimmer realised Lister was telling the story of how they met with dramatic embellishments. The other diners were hanging on his every word.

“How romantic!” Mindy shrieked.

“You should’ve seen Rimmer’s letters, they’d melt anyone’s heart.”

All eyes were on Rimmer and he felt under pressure to say the right thing. “Oh well, I don’t like to brag.”

Lister smiled, and Rimmer wondered if it would be appropriate or inappropriate to kiss him. Then he wondered where that thought could possibly have come from. Too much wine, that must be it.

“Was the meal to sir’s liking? The chef made it specially to cater to your dietary requirements,” the server said to Lister when he came to collect the plates.

“Yeah, top notch, man,” Lister said.

“Dietary requirements?” Rimmer said.

“Yeah,” lister said with a grin.

Rimmer shook his head.

“Well I had to make sure I was gonna get something good, yeah?”

*

“So, this is me,” Lister said as they reached the door of their bunkroom. “I’d invite you in, but you know, don’t wanna give you the wrong impression of me.”

“Lister, what are you talking about?” Rimmer said, walking past him and going into the room.

“Oh what the hell, you only live once, yeah?” Lister followed him inside. “I had a nice time tonight.”

“I told you it was a great honour to be invited.”

“I don’t care about the honour. I had a nice time with you.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. Didn’t you?”

“I suppose so.”

“So am I getting a kiss or not?”

Rimmer was taken aback by the question. Part of him wanted to, but another part told him that he really shouldn’t. “You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?”

“No.” Lister said it in such a small voice that Rimmer knew he wasn’t lying. “I mighta been before, but I’m not now.”

“You’re drunk, Lister. Go to bed.”

“No.” This no was more forceful. “Let’s have another drink.”

“I’ve really had too much already,” Rimmer said, but Lister had already routed out a four pack of that awful Leopard Lager. He opened a can and slid it across the table to Rimmer, then opened a can for himself.

Rimmer sighed and sat down at the table with Lister. There was no harm in having one more drink, was there? It was probably the drink talking, but he actually found himself wanting to spend more time with Lister. It was a novelty. He figured he may as well make the most of enjoying his time with his bunkmate while it lasted. He took a drink.

Tomorrow he would be back to wishing Lister would leave the moment he walked into the room. Wouldn’t he? It wasn’t as if this phoney date had changed anything between them, was it? It wasn’t as if the pretend images of them being together had wormed their way into Rimmer’s mind and settled themselves as a distinct possibility for the future.

“Do you think I impressed them?” Rimmer asked, trying to change the subject.

For a moment, Lister just smiled at him. “Yeah,” he said.

“You don’t care, do you?”

Lister snorted. “Not really,” he said, and took another drink. “I mean, I know it’s important to you, but I was just thinkin’ the way you’re drinking is kinda cute. Little sips.” He laughed to himself. “So like you.”

Rimmer tried to articulate the fact that he didn’t actually like lager, but he couldn’t get the words organised in his head because Lister called him cute and suddenly he was on the verge of hyperventilating. Why did he have to do that? It was like Lister knew that he was feeling vulnerable to such things.

“You’ve gone red,” Lister said, leaning forward, an impish smile on his face.

“I haven’t,” Rimmer mouthed, struggling to get his words out. Lister was close now, Rimmer could feel his breath on his face.

There was a clatter and suddenly Rimmer’s trousers were wet. Lister had knocked over one of the cans of lager.

“Oh smeg, I’m sorry!”

“It doesn’t matter,” Rimmer said, standing up and making a feeble effort to brush the liquid off the cloth. His heart was pounding. He felt vaguely guilty about not feeling angry that his dress uniform was possibly ruined. But his mind was elsewhere. That moment between him and Lister was gone. Or was it?

Lister had stood up too. He was looking at Rimmer as if he was expecting to be shouted at.

“It doesn’t matter,” Rimmer repeated, softer this time. He leaned over the table and curled his hand around the back of Lister’s neck. Lister’s eyes fluttered shut and he let himself be pulled forward into Rimmer’s kiss.

Rimmer wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol in his system, but touching Lister felt really good. Being touched by Lister felt really good. Lister tasted of lager and that didn’t taste so bad any more.

Lister gently pulled away. The kiss ended all too soon. Rimmer felt disappointment setting in as he started to think that this would probably be a one off. It was the best kiss he’d ever had.

Walking around the table, Lister approached him. Casually, Lister slung his arms around Rimmer’s neck and leaned his body against his. He looked into Rimmer’s eyes and smiled as he kissed him again. This was even better. Rimmer had no idea a kiss could feel so good. Their lips melted together and Rimmer put one hand on the back of Lister’s head and wrapped his other arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer.

“So, when will I see you again?” Lister asked, running a finger along Rimmer’s jawline in a way that made him shiver.

“Tomorrow, I imagine,” Rimmer said.

“You’re keen. Where are you taking me?”

“Oh!” Rimmer said, finally twigging. “Well, I suppose I’ll think of somewhere. Wait, you’re actually saying you want to go on another date with me?”

“Yeah.”

“Really?”

“Yes!”

“You mean you don’t mind that you weren’t my first choice?”

“Don’t ruin it, Rimmer.”

“Sorry. Don’t know why I said that.”

Lister shrugged. “Maybe it was fate.”

“I knew there had to be a reason all of those women turned me down.”

“Maybe you acted off putting on purpose ‘cause ya really wanted to go with me,” Lister said with a grin.

[thereweresunflowers]

⏰ how to believe in time travel ✨

ruby study - 1,026 words - rating: G - read on ao3

She’s in the kitchen with the washing-up and the laundry and the nappies and time travel feels gorgeously possible, like she could reach out and touch it.

Before Ruby runs into the TARDIS and to the Doctor, she stands in her kitchen and pieces it all together.

i found this moment from the christmas special absolutely enchanting and couldn't resist exploring it further!

full fic below cut!

“What did he mean, he went back?”

She’s got two dirty plates in one hand and an old bottle of baby formula in the other, and Ruby’s mind is with the man in the long leather coat who runs across roofs and jumps onto ladders dangling from the sky and can be in two places at once. When he was here, the little attic flat seemed tiny and massive simultaneously; his huge presence lit up the whole space but somehow made it feel all the more important. 

“Where did he come from? Why was he here in the first place?” Carla asks after her as she drifts to the kitchen. 

The sunlight streams in over the sink and its piles of washing-up as it always does. She leaves the dirty plates on the side. There is a giant crack running through the ceiling of their home and she doesn’t even remember it getting there, just that the world fainted around her, and then the Doctor was here again. The man who’d looked at her just now like he found something brilliant he thought he’d lost, and hugged her with such a tight fierceness he could’ve been wearing those kinetic gloves. Then ran. 

“I don’t know, he sort of popped up at the right moment. And then he was gone,” Ruby says. Her speech slows. “Like…how?”

She hadn’t asked how when the goblins had taken Lulubelle, she hadn’t asked how when the Doctor learned the language of rope, she hadn’t asked how when she opened her mouth around a new tune and lyrics came flying out. There hadn’t been time, there had just been the Doctor. A man whose every word is half science, half magic, and undoubtedly true. They’d had a baby to save, and themselves, too, if they could manage it—which they did.

Now she gets to stand in her kitchen and remember time-surfing goblins eating babies in a pirate ship in the sky. The laugh bubbles out of her before she can catch it; she feels slightly like she’s inhaled helium.

“It’s been so mad I haven’t actually had time to stop and think! He said I was taken as a baby, isn’t that what he said just now? He went back.” 

The world fainting around her and the Doctor resurrecting it. The man who was adopted and is alone, and is maybe, beneath the magic and in some wild way, like her. That had been coincidence, the Doctor said. The two of them together was a coincidence, an accident. But the Doctor leaping onto the ladder with her wasn’t. He chose to help her. Multiple times. 

“He said he went back. What did he mean, he went back?”

Through time.

She could feel crazy but she doesn’t, she actually doesn’t. The email she got with her crappy A-Levels on wasn’t half as tangible as this. The helium feeling dissipates as raw solid potential lands in her lap, and she could hold that way she’s feeling right now in her hands. It’s within reach; he makes it viable.

“When was Houdini? Houdini was, like, 1900s, 1920s.”

On that goblin ship the Doctor had struck the music up again, he’d brought the bass back and told Ruby to sing. And somehow, completely out of place and strung between fantasy and reality, with a man who knew far more than she could comprehend, she felt like the frontwoman of a band rather than just the girl on keys.

“How could he? And then he spoke about time travellers and then he…”

She’s in the kitchen with the washing-up and the laundry and the nappies and time travel feels gorgeously possible, like she could reach out and touch it. 

There hadn’t been time to ask how before, but she asks it now. How can you see London laid flat before you from above the clouds and be standing about in your kitchen mere hours later? How can the nice room in the attic flat be anything compared to all that?

How does she get more?

Without even a goodbye, just a drop of a kiss on Carla’s head and a twirl away, she sprints to the jackets hanging in a row on the wall. Distantly she can register Carla’s calling after her, “where are you going now?” Ruby doesn’t know the answer but she does know she is going to get one, and it will be spoken in the language of ropes sometime far away by big brown puppy eyes and a stunning wardrobe.

If she doesn’t find him now she’ll never find him at all, she can feel it like it’s instinct, like it’s fact. With the Doctor you’ve got to hold on tight and never let go, nevermind if it burns, or pulls, or hurts. That’s why he’s got the gloves. 

But there’s a moment she has, just as she grabs her jacket; the familiar row of Carla and Cherry’s coats catches her off guard. 

She’s not like this Doctor who has no one. She has a family. The final fixed-rent flat in London, a newborn to help care for, a crack in the roof to fix. A Christmas dinner table to set and a mum and grandma to pull the crackers with. She’s nineteen. Is all that worth a life she feels has yet to begin? 

She’s nineteen.

Who will she be, if she lives the rest of her life not knowing? 

She throws on her jacket, running clear across the threshold of her home and down the stairs and out into the blue blue sky and to the blue blue box, thinking of fantastically possible things she never could have conceived this morning. 

She’ll wonder about it in the weeks to come, the extraordinarily unlikely events that led her to this newfangled life she’s managing to live. How did she come to those conclusions in the kitchen? Who trusts in time travel, and a time traveller, with such little proof?

The answer is, of course, that on Christmas Eve, Ruby learns what everyone who comes to know the Doctor learns: the Doctor is the kind of person who makes you believe.

[simonlynch]

drabblecember day #17 - laundry fresh from the dryer

ship: bedbugs

word count: 431

summary: "Please, god…If you're out there -- give me the strength to not find a way to kill someone who's already dead."

“What are you doing?”

“The laundry.”

He makes a noise of disgust.

“Why?”

“Uh, because I need clean clothes?”

“Uh,” Beetlejuice mocks them, “I get that, sunshine. But isn't it a waste of time to fold it all if you're just gonna wear it again?”

He picks up an old, ragged pair of boxers in intrigue, but Reagan quickly snatches them away, folding them neatly and placing them in their appropriate pile.

“How come you never fold my laundry?”

“You don't do laundry, bug. In fact, I don't think you've ever washed your clothes, ever.”

“You sayin’ I smell?”

“Yes, actually.”

Beetlejuice looks offended towards them, offput by their teasing grin.

“I started showering for you, you know.”

“No, you started showering with me, and only because -- I’m not having this argument. Point is, you haven't ever asked me to do your laundry. I always figured those were like…I don't know. Your only clothes.”

“What, like I don't own anything else?”

“I don't know. Do you?”

They look over at him, rolling their eyes as he suddenly stands, flexing in the mirror in an ill-fitted pair of khakis and a ripped, stained undershirt.

“Not your best look, bug.”

“Oh, like you know what fashion is.”

He turns, now in some awful pair of shorts and a blindingly ugly Hawaiian button-up.

“Sometimes I feel like I really am in hell, and that you're my punishment.”

“You wound me, babes, you really do.”

“Not as much as your fashion sense hurts me.”

“Well, gee, tell us how you really feel. If you want, I can just start nixing the whole clothes thing entirely, and --”

“No, thanks. I like the suspenders, really. I’m just suggesting that maybe you pass ‘em over for a wash once in a while.”

“Aw shucks, babe, you'd really do that for me?”

“If my other options are eternal torture, or you rolling dirt into my sheets every night, I guess I don't have much of a choice.”

Beetlejuice throws himself onto the bed, directly onto the laundry; He's back in his striped getup now, save for the blazer, and Reagan watches as their freshly washed laundry very quickly absorbs the dirt, dust, and grime that their demon rolls into the pile. They sigh, too tired to argue, and tilt their head back, Please, god…If you're out there -- give me the strength to not find a way to kill someone who's already dead.

“Aw man, this is really warm. I might have to do this more often, you know!”

Reagan closes their eyes, pleading.

“The things I do for love…”

[gemmahale]

Ooh, craft room update!

I found a bunch of my hooks and needles and scissors! I'm so happy about that! (Still haven't found the ones I want though, womp womp.)

Current frog tally: Frogged: 9 To Be Determined: 4 (tbf it's a matter of how much do I want to fight with this yarn to frog it?) Finish: 3

Alt ID: Gif of a green frog balancing on a moving green leaf.

More thinking below the cut.

The mice did chew (a tiny bit) on a sweater I made that is mostly finished. So I'm making a decision whether I repair it or tear it all out and make something else. (It ended up being much heavier than I expected it to be and I'm not sure I'll wear it when it is done.)

All that's left in the back room now is the bedding (I'm avoiding it for historic 🐁 reasons), and the shelving unit that is full of mini skeins and little fiddly bits. And the vanity that I know is full of things in the drawers (shh don't tell Kallen yet). ...oh and cleaning up the 3 little relatively large sorting piles I have throughout the house, lol.

Hopefully, I can shift some of the stuff that's in those piles and in my craft-room-to-be into this cleaned out room in an organized fashion (after we mop and sweep and shit). It's giving me stress from being right next to my chair and I'm feeling claustrophobic about it.

I have accumulated at least 3 loads of laundry to do out of this, which is ...good bad? One is all the clothing that I should have just returned when it didn't fit but since that was a *year plus* ago, into the wash and then the donation pile it goes! Plus washing the project bags sounds like a good thing to do.

I'm still trying to figure out what the hell I'm going to do with all this yarn. Blankets are fine and dandy (note to self: contact the Veteran's Home in town about donating yarn and/or blankets), and wearables are nice, but I don't do the common triangle shawls. I really only do the big square over the shoulder poncho/ruana thingy style. I'm not keen on the kerchief style and I can't get them to stay put (I miiiiight try a wrappy bracelet thing or a shawl pin and find that works decently but haven't yet). But for the most part? I'm a square/rectangle gal. Or a cowl.

And realistically, how many blankets/scarves/hats/sweaters/other item does one person truly need? Sure, I could make a bunch of them for gifts (and likely will). But really, I'm drowning in yarn that'll never get used.

Alt ID: Meme text - "I am not a yarn hoarder, I am the curator of an extensive fiber collection". Image is of a hand holding a multicolored twisted skein of yarn.

Usually these memes make me groan, but this one's kind of on par with my situation. 😅

So...destashing plans will be made. Maybe I can convince Kallen to give me a page on his online store. Hm. I know there's a few Reddits, probably a few Facebook groups, eBay, etc. I could use. I think I saw something about someone starting a yarn reselling program - I need to find that info again.

Or maybe...I just make a side blog and have them all posted/tagged/searchable? That might be an idea too. (Ugh the idea of managing payments and shipping is making me want to chew my arm off though.)

Things to think and chew on.

I don't necessarily want to make back the money from purchasing - I know that's not realistically feasible. I do, however, want to become much more intentional about what I'm going to feasibly wear and use. And one part of that is going to be letting go of things I won't use in a reasonable timeframe.

Alt ID: "I have SABLE: Stash Acquisition Beyond Life Expectancy" superimposed over yarn hanks.