#there are times...there are times i wish i drank

[chosolar]

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈ wait for your love

nanami kento x fem!reader

exhusband!nanami who was your best friend since high school. you met during your 2nd year when he was getting teased for being a loser and you defended him. he stayed close to you after and has been close to you ever since.

exhusband!nanami who was forced to come with you to all the parties that you were too shy to go to. he never minded being your DD, as long as he knew you were safe then he didn't care about not being able to drink.

exhusband!nanami's parents had always nagged him to find someone after he graduated university. he took over his dad's company and as happy as his parents were, they wanted a daughter in law! he hated all the set ups his mom made him go to so he came to you with a proposition — get married to him for a few years to make his parents happy and he'll give you however much money you wanted. you needed the money he was offering so you accepted. the wedding was small and intimate with only your close friends and some family members.

exhusband!nanami worked his ass off ever since you accepted his proposal. even if it was just a marriage of convenience, he wanted to make sure you lived happily with him.

exhusband!nanami was the perfect husband. he was attentive, loving, and always spoiled you with everything you could ever want. the ladies in your neighbourhood loved him, wishing that their husbands were a fragment of what nanami is.

exhusband!nanami spent almost 5 years of marriage in bliss with you until you started pulling away. he never pushed you to talk though because he knew you were going through something. so he waited until you were ready to talk to him.

exhusband!nanami who felt in the dark when he was served with divorce papers. he was busy with paperwork, not bothering to look up at whoever was knocking on his office door. it wasn't until the manila envelope was placed on top of his desk that he looked up to see whoever served him.

exhusband!nanami wanted at least an answer before he signs the papers. you just told him the most vague answers. "I feel like we've grown apart" "we want different things in life" "I just can't do this anymore" he was confused with every reason that you gave.

exhusband!nanami couldn't wrap his head around the separation. he thought everything was going well but once he signed the papers to finalize the divorce, he felt the weight of losing you come all at once.

exhusband!nanami who hated being with anyone else but you. even if it did start out as a loveless marriage, he fell for you hard throughout the years. every "I love you" he's ever said, he's meant it. every kiss, every hug, nanami was surprisingly a good actor but he could never fake the affection he felt for you.

exhusband!nanami despises coming home. it was eerily empty and quiet, the sound of his footsteps were the only thing he could hear. he frequently thinks about moving away to get his mind away from you but he can't. he stays at the same place you've always know where he's been just in case you ever come back.

exhusband!nanami started drinking and smoking to waste his time. he rarely drank during college and he only did during parties with you. now that you're gone, he's turned to his vices. he knows that you hate the smell of cigarettes and you hate people who couldn't handle their alcohol but why does it matter if you're not with him anymore?

exhusband!nanami still remembers every little detail about you. no matter how hard he tried, he could never forget you and everything about you. you're the love of his life even if you don't feel the same about him.

exhusband!nanami felt like everything stopped when he saw you again on the street. you're still as beautiful as ever. your hair's longer and you've changed your style, but other than that you're still his pretty ex wife.

exhusband!nanami breathlessly greeted you back when you came up and said hi to him first. he thought you would've ignored him and just went along your way, but you stayed. your eyes stare up at him as you watch him fumble over his words. his heart skips faster as he sees you grin over his flustered state.

exhusband!nanami watches you leave after catching up. he wishes that it lasted a minute longer because for the first time in what feels like forever, he feels like he can breathe properly again.

exhusband!nanami starts sobering up and taking care of himself. he threw away the bottles of alcohol and cigarettes packs so that he can get away from feeling sorry for himself. if he ever sees you again, he wants to impress you (and make you regret your decision).

exhusband!nanami is shocked when he sees your face on the doorbell camera. the weather was relentless and he sees you shivering in the cold so he opens his door immediately. he hands you a change of warm clothes and turns up the thermometer of the house. 

while he's making hot tea for the both of you, he notices the bathroom door open and out you step, his clothes basically engulfing your body. nanami looks away, trying and failing to get rid of his lewd thoughts.

"sorry those are the only clothes I have that could fit you." nanami apologizes but you shook your head. "no don't be! if anything I should apologize for inconveniencing you."

nonsense, nanami thinks, you could never bother me.

nanami disregards his thoughts, "don't worry about that, I'm just glad to get you out of that snowstorm."

he hands you a cup of tea and you take notice of the mug he has in his hand. you think out loud, "you kept that mug?"

"hmm?" nanami glances up at you then to the cup, "oh yeah. how could I throw it away? you made it for me."

"but that was back in high school."

"and? I've kept everything you've ever given me." nanami cooly responded.

you kept quiet as you take sips of the tea he made for you. the taste is familiar until you remember — he made your favourite tea, just the way you like it. you dart your eyes between the tea and the blond man.

why is he like this? why is he still making your heart flutter after all this time? you wanted to get away but you couldn't, not until the storm calms down. the news reported that it'll continue until early in the morning meaning you'll have to stay inside — with him. knowing nanami, he would never let you out because he still worries for your safety.

sleepiness was creeping up on you as you both sat in the living room. nanami sees your head bobbling through his peripheral and offers you the guest room that you promptly accepted. he leaves you be, letting you explore the home that is exactly the same as when you used to live in it.

nanami laid in his bed, moving constantly to find a comfortable position enough to fall asleep. but he couldn't.

the only thing in his mind was you who was only a few doors down away from him. were you sleeping soundly or do you feel as insomnolent as him? he wants to get up and check on you but he restrains himself. with the wind blowing, all he can hear is the rage of the snowstorm hitting the windows of the house.

nanami directs his attention from the windows to the knocking of the door. "nanami? are you awake?"

he instructs for you to come in, the light from the hallway seeps into the darkness of his bedroom. he sits up and taps the space in front of him on his bed to tell you to come sit there. "why are you still awake?"

"couldn't sleep after I got into bed. you?" you wonder as you go to sit on his bed. he chuckles, "same. do you wanna talk? I remember you used to fall asleep to me talking."

"you remember?"

"how could I forget?"

you lift your legs to place them onto the bed and cross them, wrapping your arms and pulling your knees onto your chest. "why do you still remember everything about me?"

"I was your best friend before I was your husband. even if I wanted to forget, everything about you is engrained in me." his hand moves up to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear. "you were my first and my last, it'll be that way till I die."

"you're so dumb," you mumble into your arms, "I divorced you and you still treat me so well."

nanami grasps your wrist and brings you to his lap, his arms wrapped loosely around you. he kisses your temple softly. "does that bother you?"

"I don't know," you confess. nanami exhales before he changes the topic. "if we're being honest, can you finally tell me now why you wanted a divorce?"

you shook your head. "not really, you might hate me."

"I won't." nanami reassures, "just be honest with me dear."

you sigh.

"the marriage was feeling too real."

nanami's expression twists into confusion.

"it was an agreement between us that if one day one of us wanted to stop, we will," you continue, "and one day, I thought about it. there's going to be a day you come up to me and maybe you'll tell me that you found someone else. I don't want to go through that, I don't want to lose you but we've already gone so far. I figured it was best for me to leave before that day does come.

"you'll never have to worry about that," nanami tightens his arms around you, "it's always been you."

you hugged him back, the scent of his cologne intensifies as you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck. "can we start over? but for real this time."

"we don't need to start over," nanami places a kiss on the top of your head, "we can just pick up where we left off."

as soon as the storm stopped, husband!nanami takes you to city hall to sign a new marriage certificate.

husband!nanami makes sure to treat you right this time. if you think that the act he was putting up was good, then nanami not having to hide his feelings is better. he's not one to shy away from physical affection in public as he always wants to hold your hand or stay very close to you.

husband!nanami who will always reassure you that he'll never leave. you are the light of his life, the reason he wants up everyday. he'll never take a day with you granted.

husband!nanami finds it adorable when you watch over the neighbour's daughter. he'll wait until her parents pick her up and then he'll bring up the thoughts that's been plaguing his mind for a while now.

"honey, what do you think about starting a family?"

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈

as per usual, not proofread!! ◡̈

[mochistuffed]

I feel like such a good cow right now! I just drank a bunch of liquids to fill up my already tight heavy belly and it feels so stretched out and sloshy 😵‍💫😵‍💫 I’m laying back rubbing and shaking my stuffed belly and I can’t help but feel so wet and needy thinking about how gluttonous i’ve been. I wished someone was here to egg me on to fill my soft large gut even more. I would do it myself but i’m so full and lethargic, I need someone to take care of me and stuff me as much as they think I need to be!

And my tits are so sensitive, I feel like every time I stuff myself they get wildly more sensitive. I want them to feel as full as my belly gets when i’m stuffed, but like full of milk! like it would be so cute to feel grossly over full in both my tits and belly. Then i’d be milked and have the same thing happen all over again 🥰🥰 I wanna have big milky tits with an even heavier belly so bad 🥺🥺🥺 ugh I need someone to suck on my tits, worship my body and belly, and fill me up and call me their precious cow 😖💕💕

[imakemywings]

The Regrets of Mythal

When Solas tilted his head to deepen the kiss, Lavellan delicately withdrew, as she had done repeatedly since they had entered the Fade. She had made no complaints, nor reprimands, nor in any other way indicated he was behaving inappropriately, yet in the past he had known her to have more tolerance for such things. Unable to suppress his concerns any further, Solas probed carefully.

            “You are distracted,” he observed, keeping his tone light. Lavellan was looking off into what constituted the horizon of their world. “What has ahold of your thoughts?”

            Lavellan hummed. “Nothing,” she said, matching his lightness, looking up at the sky as if there were something there of surpassing interest which he should also find compelling. Solas had grown accustomed to the tells of Lavellan’s lying, even if she had managed it more adeptly in this instance.

            Using a tack which was generally reliable for getting information from her, while keeping his voice gentle, he said: “I wish you would tell me what troubles you.”

            There was a lengthy pause, while Lavellan tugged at the sparse Fade grass around them, debating whether to make another effort at lying. Finally, she spoke.

            “Do you remember when I drank from the vir’abelasan?” Solas snorted in disapproval.

            “Yes, I would not forget.”

            “Well, that piece of Mythal…she is with me still. She does not make herself known often, but she is there. And she is…most …vocal when you and I are close.” They were close more often than not these days. There was no one else for company but the spirits.

            Solas cocked his head to the side, intrigued.

            “Perhaps it—the fragment—is responding to something,” he said. “A memory of Mythal’s, or some association she once had?”

            Lavellan hummed again, in the way she did before she drastically understated something. “No, I don’t think that’s it,” she said, still picking at the grass and not looking at him. Solas studied her profile a moment.

            “What do you think?” he asked, since she was the one with a bit of Mythal in her head.

            “Ah…” Again, he watched her consider lying. Again, she eventually fell out on the side of cautious honesty. “I believe she is…uncomfortable developing such an…incarnate knowledge of you.” 

            As usual, Lavellan phrased herself so obtusely that Solas had to consider her words a moment before grasping what she was putting so tidily.

            And when he realized, he could not stop himself from laughing.

            “Has the fragment spoken to you?” he asked.

            “No,” Lavellan said. “But the sentiment is present.”

            “And what is the sentiment?”

            “I imagine it is similar to how I might feel about suddenly sharing a mind with my sister-in-law,” said Lavellan, and Solas let out another burst of laughter, briefly consumed with the thought of Mythal’s expression at having to be party to Lavellan’s experience of his romantic advances, then sobered as he realized the problems this presented. “I am working on soothing her,” said Lavellan. “But she is still…fussy.” She exhaled loudly. “I must admit you were correct when you warned me that there would be consequences to drinking from the vir’abelasan of which I had not yet conceived.”

            “And I will confess I had not foreseen this particular consequence myself,” Solas replied.

            “Well,” Lavellan sighed with some chagrin, at last turning her attention back to him directly. “At least we have quite some time to sort it out.”

On AO3

[proud-cloud]

Three Cheers for sweet revenge plot song by song according to me

My credentials are that uhmm ive listened to this album like weekly since i was like 12 and uhm im taking english A-Level (crime and tragedy) sooooo

Full disclaimer i could do a line by line analysis on pretty much all of these songs but then this would be stupidly long so im just touching on the points or lyrics i think are most important for the plot! Oh and i cant spell and im trieddd of writing academic essays so im kinda yapping ngl

HELENA

honestly i barely have anything to say here but i imagine its the demo woman’s funeral (yes ik its abt Gerard ways grandma but let me cook) kind of setting the tone and exploring his grief, creating the circumstances for his deal with the devil - especially in the bridge.

GIVE EM HELL KID

Ok so here!! Is where i start to have more to say!! So in my head the man (im just gonna call them tje man and the woman or like he/she from here on) has accepted the deal with satan to kill 1000 evil men and is basically on a killing spree? So from my immense medical knowledge of watching house im preity sure epidrene is a steroid, which like gives him energy (interestingly ive been on them a few times for asthma and they have a long list of mental side effects such as uhhh mania (fall out boy whooo) anxiety and depression which maybe foreshadows his sorta insanity towards the end as his guilt haunts him) acting as a symbol of his immense motivation to see his wife again, so verse one especially is before his downfall where hes like yippee killing people to see my wife again!! The chorus i imagine is sang by both him and the woman in heaven as they both long for each other uhm and later on in the song it does seem as if hes begining to kind of loose it a bit due to his grief? kind of foreshadowing his well everything later on in the album. In the bridge i imagine hes kind of mocking their teenage selves (linking to im not okay later on) especially in the line “we are young and we dont care” criticicing their hopefullness by comparing it to their current circumstance - ironic as it only gets worse from here.

TO THE END

Now i know this is based on a rose for emily (i tried to read it and there were a LOT of slurs from what i remeber so that was yeah) but for the sake of my silly little narrative were kinda just not gonna touch on that. So here i believe the man has been set to kill this couple, just to find the wife has killed her husband (with the “cyanide you drank” i assume) which drives him into a sort of crisis, questioning if this was what would have happened to him and his wife if she had lived and they had stayed married for this long (fueling his sexuality crisis in prison). I could go so much further into this, especially language wise but for the sake of everyones sanity ill leave it here :)

YOU KNOW WHAT THEY DO TO GUYS LIKE US IN PRISION

so hes literally in the middle of a gunfight in the centre of a resturant and the police come and theyre like come with ur arms raised high and ok so!!! Theres many people who could explain this better than me but the man gets arrested for killing all these people and gets sent to jailllll. Ive heard some people talk about it as an allegory for SA in prison and others who talk abt it as him realising his gay/bi ect and honestly i can see both. I really like the line “too much to late or just not enough of this, pain in my heart for your dying wish, i kiss your lips again!” Which, running with the latter intrepretation, suggests hes feeling regret for all the murdering hes done and is questioning if he ever did love his wife this much, and if he should move on and fix his mistakes. So to make a long story short he has a sexuality crisis in prision! Toward the end, he escapes prision and with his “friends” from jail, lilely from setting it on “fire” (i got the friends bit from the lyric “but ill go down with my friends”) escaping jail but at the cost of further loosing his sanity and grasp on morality.

IM NOT OKAY (I PROMISE)

for conveniences sake he either gets knocked out (the giggles at the end of prision i guess beinf from a concussion or something?) or just like goes to sleep somehwhere after the prison break with the other ex inmates and has a flashback to his time in high school, when he fell in love with his wife. As an audienve were kinds like dude she did not like you back then calm down which makes us question the morality of his mission, but for him it reminds him of what hes fighting for and erases the doubt he had in their love in to the end and prison. I will say im kinda pidgenholing this in with the flashback but uhm yeah!

THE GHOST OF YOU

This song acts as a continuation of his grief, back in the present day after im not okay made him remember what he was doing this all for. This basically confirms his belief that killing all these people is right because he needs to see her again. He battles with his morality knowing that she should be “never coming home” cause shes dead but then considering the deal with satan and its morality asking himself “could i? Should i?”. Towards the end, it seems like he decides killing the men to bring her back is the right thing to do. the line “If i fall, down” seems to show his commitment to her regardless of morality, hes willing to ‘fall down’ to hell if it means he gets more time with her which is ironic as he later does go to hell, but never gets to see her again.

THE JETSET LIFE IS GONNA KILL YOU

and hes back to killing again!! I think “her killing jar” is a metaphor for his fixation on his wife and the things its driving him to do. Hes trapped as if he was in a jar by the deal he made with satan for her. Its kind of difficult to explain but essentially hes assuring himself that hes doing it all for her and its all worth it as his sanity slowly dissipates, which i believe is demonstrated through the lyric “pull the plug” kinda symbolising hes giving up on himself and dedicating everything to her. Now this is obviously unhealthily obsessive and is the point where we definately start to question if what hes doing is right - is he not essentially playing god now? Should one man act as judge, jury and executioner?

INTERLUDE

ok its literally just the interlude but here i beleive he is praying for god, the “saints”, to “protect” his wife in heaven further showing his like motive? For all of his murders - his love for her however dangerously codependant.

THANK YOU FOR THE VENOM

HE KILLS MORE PEOPLE 🔥🔥 its almost like he has to kill 1000 evil men damn. BUT now hes starting to loose his grip on reality and is killing innocent people. I like to think he goes to the church he married his wife in and starts killing people - hence the line “sister im not much a poet but a criminal” - hes changed completely from the man he once was. They try to convince him to like stop saying its not what his wife would have wanted but he does not listen - in the lyric “preach all you want but whos gonna save me” - and continues to spiral into a life of crime and implied addiction (when in the chorus he says “give me all your posion and give me all your pills”)

HANG EM HIGH

THIS!! This is the one i can never fully figure out despite it being so good 🙏🙏 it feels like a cop out to say he suddenly becomes a cowboy or idk has to kill a cowboy but any other way i can interpret it is just the same old back to mourning his wife and dedicating his life to her so uhm yeah take any of those 3 or your own and run with it (please tell me if you know how to make this fit better than me)

ITS NOT A FASHION STATEMENT ITS A FUCKING DEATHWISH

Hes now so deep into his mission he cant quit despite the regret he feels. This kind of links back to his mocking of their younger selves in give em hell through the lyric “do you remeber back there when we met you told me this gets harder, well it did!”. Hes kind of pondering how his life got this bad wishing it didnt have to be this way. however he believes they will soon be reunited - evidenced through lines such as “im coming back from the dead” and the repeated references to resserection and him finding his wife, “your running out of places, to hide from me”. At the end, he says “i lost my fear of falling, i will be with you”, further showing he thinks he will soon see his wife again and simmilarly to the ghost of you shows hes willing to sacrafice his soul just to see her again

CEMETERY DRIVE

trust me the fake music video in my head for this goes HARD. So he visits the cemetary where his wife is buried to kinda tell her in a way? That hes almost finished and he’ll see her soon. And in my like the cool cinemetic imaganary music video he dances with her ghost but uhm plot wise hes kinda lamenting how much he misses here as the chorus goes “i miss you, so far”. Now theres some confusion as to how she died as here it says “and they found you on the bathroom floor” but in i never told you it says “they gave us two shots to the back of the head” so i imagine he got caught up in some like bad stuff and they killed her in their home - the bathroom - which does add some depth to his grief as he feels responsable for her death hence why he wants to bring her back so bad. His dedication to her is reinforced through the lyric “so i wont stop lying wont stop dying” which as ive said a lottt shows his like questionably large levels of motivation in this mission from satan. The repetition of “way down” at the end foreshadows the twist in the next song - that he's going to hell - and this idea has been building up throughout the narrative but its reaching its peak now and we begin to see it as a serious possibility considering the innocent people he has killed alongside the guilty ones.

I NEVER TOLD YOU WHAT I DO FOR A LIVING

Aaaaand im realising ive made it all the way through this without even having to check the tracklist which shows that i lack a life! But anyways this song communicates the concept so well and i genuienly could line by line delve into it but for the sake of conciceness as i have been i will just cover the basic concept

OK SO! Hes metholodically getting through this list (im inferring he has a list from the line “i keep a book of the names”) kind of rushing through them, seen through the fast pace of the first verse, in my head it resembles a video montage of the murder of multiple people off of the list. This is further evidenced through the lyric “another knife in my hands” showing this has somehow become his everyday life as hes become so detached from normalicy in his grief. NOW NOW NOW the lyric “a stain that never comes off the sheets” is an allusion to lady Macbeth (I FREAKING LOVE SHAKESPEARE) (im a hamlet girl tho honestly) where she couldnt wash the blood off of her hands which is a common literary symbol for guilt showing his mission has taken a massive toll on him mentally if we did not already realise this. “It aint the money and it sure as hell aint just for the fame” implies he does not enjoy killing these people despite the fact hes killed probably over a thousand people which againnnn shows his dedication to his wife. Now i know ive said that about a billion times but thats important to consider when we take into account that he does not get to see her again - everything he did was essentially worthless, in fact if anything everything he did just sealed his fate. Therefore, if we view him as a tragic hero (i can go so much more into this but thats for another day) then his hamartia is his love for her, his loyalty which kinda gave him tunnel vision meaning he could not see the flaws his plan and the way he was being exploited by satan.

now theres so much symbolism in the lyrics i could discuss (I LOVE THIS SONG) but i will refrain and kinda skip forward to the bridge/the end. I like to think he turns the last page in his book of names to just see his own name and then begins to spiral - this is where the song goes “and we all fall down”. Im preitty sure gerard ways like screams say “i tried” which like furthers this breakdown as he comes to understand all the wrong he has done and his inevatatable damnation. After a large moral debate he thinks it would have been better if they were both killed together originally “never again / they gave us two shots to the back of the head” and he shoots himself in the hope he will eventually be with her in the afterlife, and if not then a life without her is not a life worth living anyways. It ends with the lyric “were all dead now” (which they are) which reminds me of the rhyme/ game from when i was a kid ring a rosies (which i swear is about the plauge) and how that ends by saying “we all fall down” kinda showing the corruption he brought into the world and that everything must come to an end. This is typical of a tragic hero - his anagorisis (realisation of his flaw / mistake) and then his death - which is why i personally do veiw this album as mostly conforming to troupes of traditional greek tragedy :).

aaaaand thats it!! I dont count bury me in black or desert song as part of the album plot uhhh if anyone else does id love to hear how that sounds so cool but yeah!!! Oh and sorry again for any typos and spelling errors i cannot spell for the life of me uhmm this could be so incoherent for all i know (if so sorry!!) but i hope not 😛

lmk if you’d actualy wanna hear the full yap poetry annotation style for a song cause i love nothing more if not talking i might do the same for danger days if i feel like it so watch out 🔥🔥

[purplemoonabove]

Were they always this sweet? It would have been impossible. It’s not like there was any scented lip balm around here; the lips were chapped a little, after all. But that didn’t stop him from going.

His hands around his waist. The hands at his cheeks, just as warming as the other’s. Lips sunk on each other with a gentle yet dedicated act without any training or practice or experience. It should be clumsy. It was at first, but eventually it picked up the natural rhythm. A rhythm that somehow worked between them.

They made a good team, after all, but he wasn’t going to confess to his past lie about forgetting. He didn’t want to pretend or wish to forget this, though.

Lance wasn’t sure how this even came to be. One moment Voltron was making a celebratory alliance with another planet against the Galra, and the next… His back was against the wall, and one hand raised from resting at the waist to going through that thick hair. That mullet, soft and less tangled than it looked. Just getting through the roots from the bottom behind his neck was enough to get a soft gasp out of him. It was a choice for Lance by his own decision; Keith accepted it, having his breathing more through his nose.

There may have been a drink involved somewhere. He wasn’t legal, on Earth, but on that planet he must have been, or it was something that would give the same affects as alcohol would for a lightweight—or someone close to it. He couldn’t consider himself a lightweight if he never got drunk before (like his mother wouldn’t hunt on his ass if she ever found out), but whatever he drank Keith drank it, too, and it was the whole reason why they ended up smacking lips but without the lust that can lead to finding each other in bed the following stimulated morning butt naked.

The blissful moment came to an end the moment Keith pulled away. His eyes were a haze, a sight he never saw before put him even if he were at an exhaustion that would lead him to faint. The growing ends of his hair weren’t too messed up by his fingers, but the slight change in compare to its clean ponytail before was present. Cheeks were a growing blush. Lips were moist and slightly reddened.

Lance couldn’t stop his fingers from twitching at the waist.

Reality came on as a light switch; With eyes back to a sober realization, not a word was shared before Keith escaped out of his room. The last he ever been… until now.

The air was suffocating more than the previous days, knowing the cause had returned with a guilty presence. It had it difficult for both of them to talk; Keith opened his mouth but closed, then looked about the room and rubbed the back of his neck.

The memory of his fingers being there, playing with that hair led to Lance looking away. Silent was his fight over a growing blush.

“Lance.”

The Cuban held back a wince at the heartbeat’s jump.

“This… What happened… It was…” He groaned. Lance caught him running a hand through the hair in growing frustration. “I’m sorry,” he finally cleared out, his eyes shut and face towards the ground. “What h—What I did was… It shouldn’t have happened. It’s my fault.”

Lance huffed. “Right. Last time I remember learning about a kiss, usually both people would be involved in it.”

The bridge of Keith’s nose was pinched. The familiar annoyance was arriving.

“It’s not like I was trying to stop you, Mullet, so you’re not the only one at fault here,” he continued, leaning back at the wall. Then immediately got off, crossing his arms instead. His hand then waved about. “So what? No big deal.”

“It is a big deal. We’re effecting the team.”

“I don’t hear about any damages or injuries lately.”

“Lance.”

Lance’s eyes blinked over to the always serious face Keith owned, his eyebrows furrowing.

“We have to deal with this,” Keith declared.

His blue eyes went to the wall, no focus of direction with his mind on the truth.

“…How?”

.

.

.

Part 1 / —

[edutainer2022]

I'm chilling at a bus station in Budapest, waiting for my commute back home, so I added a couple of bits to the TV-21 aftermath story (both in the past and in the TAG present).

DO-OVERS

"It isn't what it looks like!"

It really wasn't. He wished John's eyes didn't turn to hard crystal from where the brother was standing in the bathroom doorway. Scott knew the turquoise lazer scanners already did the math and counted the pills, scattered on the tiles. But it WASN'T what it looked like. Scott spilled them.

Well, technically he threw them on the floor like they were burning coals, but the intent counted, right?

His hands were shaking. Everything was wrong. TV-21 was lost. Again. No amount of upbeat platitudes Scott said to calm down  and cheer up Allie could make it better. He let Dad down. Again. He didn't save what mattered to Dad most. Again. He just wanted to stop shaking. Or maybe to just stop. Maybe John, pale in the doorway, didn't need to know that.

He hadn't touched the prescription bottle in his bathroom cabinet for years. Since a smirking mustached general on a GDF committee, assembled to evaluate his claim for IR to go operational again, wondered out loud how they would know his judgement in the danger zone would not be impaired, if the GDF discharged him for being too traumatized to see straight in the first place. His therapist wouldn't be happy about that, but he stopped taking her calls around the same time too.

Today he just needed to calm down. He needed to be strong for Allie, who didn't remember Dad's first Thunderbird, and for Gordie, who did. For Virgil and John, who remembered Dad's dark, stormy grief and withdrawal from them. For Grandma, who needed him to see her son's dreams through.

One little pill, maybe two. But his hands were shaking, as the TV-21 exploding conflated with a different one behind his eyelids - so much combustion energy to take Dad away. So one pill became a palmfull. He was just staring at his hand for a while. Okay, it WAS tempting. John DEFINITELY didn't need to know about that. It would just stop. All of it. The pain, the failure, the fear, the losses. Gone. Like Mom was gone. Like Dad was gone. [No matter what he said or did could make it right.]

But then he saw his brothers, ashen from grief and days of crying, all clad in black suits. Again. Alone and lost without him. Again.

So he threw the pills forcefully away, as if burned. They clattered like pebbles on the tiles and skipped everywhere. That's when John came in, because John too knew his tells. And now John didn't believe him, clutching his shoulders and shaking, yelling that he drank water, yelling into his comm for Virgil and a bloodtest kit. Even if it wasn't what it looked like. Not really.

***

Virgil was doing what he did best - fixing. Maybe also hiding. He couldn't fix TV-21 and Dad's shattered dream. He couldn't fix Scott's heartbreak and poorly hidden assumed failure now any more than he could fix it all those years ago. But he COULD help fix Four and with it - the mood of the despondent little Squid. One brother sorted out was exponentially better than zero brothers. Then his comm blared red.

The code was "Two-one", and 2-1 meant TV-21, and TV-21 was bad news. Bad, bad news. John's grim, tense face in the holo confirmed as much and Virgil felt the island shift and spin beneath his feet, as he legged it to Scott's rooms.

***

[Once the Tinies were settled for the night, Scott stayed down in the living room to try and catch Dad on his way out of the office. He'd been locked in there for the past several hours with the young engineer, who designed TV-21. Shaken by nearly loosing Dad to the crash, they only ever glimpsed a flash of fuming fury when Dad and "Brains" returned from the failed test flight. So Scott lingered on the couch way past the bedtime in hopes to talk to Dad some more. A mistake, as it turned out.

The teen's attempt at a smile and a simple, if heartfelt, reassurance was shot down sternly when Dad finally emerged for a glass of water and a stifled curse, only to disappear again back into the study, lit by gossamer holo-light of schematics and figures in the conference call.

"Nothing you say or do can make this right, Scott! Go to bed!"

Virgil and John watched in horror, from behind the rails of the upper floor, how Scott swayed, as if slapped, when the door slamed behind Dad again. The lanky figure then doubled over, bracing himself on a chair. Scott tried and failed to gasp through a wrecking sob, clamping a hand over his mouth to suppress the sound.

The brothers were frozen in shock, hesitant what to do as Scott looked about ready to keel over. He was probably hyperventilating, air weezing with effort through constricted pain.

Virgil stepped tentatively towards the stairs, John clutching his sleeve nervously. But Scott steadied himself for a moment only to bolt through the kitchen and out of the back door into the pitch darkness.

The brothers didn't wait any longer, practically tumbling down the stairs and on to the back porch, but Scott, the high school track star, was long gone.

They would be in so much trouble if Dad caught them downstairs, awake, on a school night, but Dad obviously was... otherwise occupied.

John, pale and wide-eyed, on the verge of tears himself, kept dragging Virgil's sleeve to run after Scott. Only which way? The farm bordered on the meadow. It was already dark. Scott could be anywhere.

Where Scott went - Virgil followed. That was the way of things. It included Rescue Scouts and multiple other pursuits. So the boy tried his best to push through the stinging of his own eyes and think like big brother, the Falcon Scout, would. They needed flashlights. The night was chilly, gusts of wind rattling the loose tiles on the old barn. Scott ran out in his sleep tee-shirt. So they would need to pick up his jacket too, on the way out. But first, they needed to placate and possibly bribe Gordie into keeping Allie from crying if he woke up. And they needed to figure out a search grid for big brother. Letting Dad in on the commotion wasn't an option.]

***

["Mom, I can't! I try and I try, and I try, but I can't! Nothing I say or do makes it right! I'm not enough! Mom, please! I canticanticanticant! I can't do this, Mom! Mom! Come back! I can't!!!!!"]

***

[A child's crying could be heard all across the quiet house. He didn't heed at first, habitually. Scott would deal with it. And on the rarest occasion that he couldn't - one of his elder boys would step up and sort little Alan out. He focused back on Hiram's muttering and the red dots flashing in different points of TV-21 the projection. The weak spots that led to the fiasco. The weeping didn't stop and eventually gave way to a high pitched wail. Jeff winced. He really didn't have time for that! He'd have to have sterner words with Scott. His ONE job was looking after his brothers. There was nothing more important than the project they launched with a young Dr. Hackenbecker. And it blew up in Jeff's face, quite literally so.

He stood up to his full hight. Hiram paused mid-rant with a polite smile. Jeff gave him a nod and jogged up the stairs, already exasperated. The hallway was dark - no light in any of the bedrooms.

The Tinies' room greeted him with a sight of Gordon clutching an inconsolable Alan in a squid hug, trying to muffle the sobs. Little Allie had dissolved into hiccups, vaguely resembling a call for ['Coddeeeeeh!!!!!]. Gordon's eyes blew up in panic as he saw Dad towering in the doorway.

Jeff took a long stride and plucked the crying child from his brother's death grip, then turned on his heel and marched down the hallway to the nearest room, shared by Virgil and John. The door flung open into the empty dark silence. The boys were not there. Jeff was fuming by then. Of course they'd use the opportunity of Dad being busy and sneak in with big brother to chat away all night. Or game. Or watch a movie. Or whatever it was teenage boys were not supposed to do when a parent was BUSY. Gordon was hot on his heels when he yanked the door to his eldest's open, clearly even more afraid of staying behind than he was of Dad's ire. Allie, who had quietened a bit in Dad's arms, screeched anew. Scott's room too was empty. Meticulously made bed had been untouched since morning. Three of his sons were gone.]

TBC

[princesssarcastia]

actually it really sucks that my sole living grandmother and, apparently, my father, are BOTH experiencing memory loss, and potentially the early stages of dementia, at the SAME TIME! wow! a bogo!

that old newspaper was right—life isn't just one thing after another. the damn things overlap.

[warning-heckboop]

We're not so different, you and I

Judged by the inexplicable magics at our cores

Or by how we strayed from the paths laid out for us

To live our own lives, and tell our own tales

I can only hope now that yours

Leads to a happier end than mine

((Wolf belongs to @bunnieswithknives))

[nicolasbitch]

logically, i know land doesn't vote. but, fuuuuuuuck, is that a lot of red on that motherfuckin map rn

[okaydays22]

[baifengxis]

ANCIENT LOVE POETRY EPISODE 20 | EPISODE 49

[defiledtomb]

something I (with a uncomfortable past like a cyst on my current behavior) didn't understand when embarking on a huge writing project is that. If you get even a little bit chalant it won't work. You can't even get a little bit chalant. Not even a little bit! The non is in there for a reason. To taunt you. You just have to have fun. But you can't force it. You have to pspspsps it out by being genuinely forgiving and. and being a bit dorky.

[hound-of-heaven]

Everyone’s reacting and feeling serious feels today but when you are checking on your friends and neighbors PLEASE remember to check on your recovering (and current) addicts.

Today is hard enough without having the siren call of substance use in your head, especially if people around you are drinking or smoking to cope.

[dustcollectingbones]

Wtf usually I have a reason but I just feel like. Shit. I don’t even have a reason to feel so shitty but I just do. Like I’m apologising for something I haven’t even done. It’s like somedays I’m so happy and energetic and I’m the most alive I’ve ever been and on others I feel like a nudge in the wrong direction and I might just die. Like I’m hollow and barely keeping my skin up to imitate what I was like the day before. I can’t even bother with social bs I just wanna curl up and die in this bed before I ever have to do anything again

[peppermintmochafem]

<3

[kvothes]

fuck, took an afternoon nap, timed it wrong, now i’m bleary as all hell and i need to go to work and run an event. motherfucker. goddamn it.