#things growing up were complicated and it was easier to just remove myself from everything

[dreamstatesims]

hey girlie, hope you're doing well; having a good day/night:

i wanted to ask if you could give any advice with building and landscaping? i've always been a huge fan of your sim style, and i'm currently looking to get into building myself.

was there any videos you watched or accounts that were able to help you jump wholeheartedly into the wonderful world of build/buy mode?

thank you soooo much in advance <3

hi! i could go on and on about this topic so thanks for asking. last year i wrote about building here, if you recall. since that one was more about "vibe" maybe this one should be a little more technical? idk, i'm a dreamy creative so i'm sure this'll get emotional anyway lol.

i suggest picking a world or architectural style and let one inform the other. then research that style, look at floor plans and dive into pinterest for a while before you start building. if you don't already have one, get one and go collecting inspiration that you can reference later. here's mine, if you wanna check it out.

when landscaping i think about two key things: what style of gardening goes with this build (manicured, overgrown, minimal, etc) and i consider the trees and/or flowers i see in the world around my lot. i'll incorporate some to blend on and off-lot gardening. and i can't emphasize enough how important terrain painting is! in my opinion it really anchors everything down. for example, i paint all around and under landscaped areas, trees, the entire perimeter of the house/buildings, and anything else like pools, decks, driveways. it creates depth and makes it look like these things are really sprouting out of the ground. also paths! even if you don't have stones laid down, think about the routes sims will take to get from one place to another, like from the back porch to the pool, the marks little sneakers leave under the swing set when simmies play, from the mudroom to the trash bins by the garage. grass thins out and you'll see some dirt showing through regularly trodden routes, so paint those on to make the area look lived in.

the simpler the floor plan, the better. even if you pick a floor plan that's complicated, simplify it. you don't need a garage? remove it or convert it into something else. too many little rooms and hallways? open up those spaces or take them out entirely and push the necessary rooms you want to keep into that area. you'll find your builds will be much easier to play in this way and it won't take sims hours to get to the kitchen or up the stairs.

i have general dimensions for rooms that really work for me: kitchen 5x6, 6x6, 6x7 dining 4x5, 5x5, 5x6 living 5x6, 6x6, 6x7 half bath 2x2, 2x3 full bath 3x4, 4x4 owner's suite 5x6, 6x6 bedrooms 4x5, 5x5 hallways 2 spaces wide

maybe a bit tricky, but think about adding rooms in the roof. a play room, guest room, second living room, or office space. hell, even just an attic you can convert later as your family grows. when building attics, i'll lay out the roof design first and then see where i can build rooms inside. for easier gameplay you'll want to then break down the roof into sections so when you lower the walls you can see inside and the camera won't bounce around.

twistedmexi's TOOL mod is an absolute gamechanger and i highly recommend using it to expand your lot outside the lines. EA has decorated the world outside of your lot with fences and other features that suggest you can absolutely push things further. i'll setup whatever i want outside the lot inside my grid first and then move it all out together. i do this for play areas, picnic tables and umbrellas, firepits and seating. i'll put cars parallel parked on the road or in the driveway EA has provided. and don't forget about debug items like electrical poles, post boxes, bus stops, fire hydrants and other stuff you'd see around a neighborhood.

i'm subscribed to a handful builders on youtube that i'll watch from time to time. it's great to see what other folks are doing because this community is so creative and you'd be surprised the little tricks you'll pick up. these are some of my favorite builders: simproved, simsphony, plumbob kingdom, simcubeez, bojana sims.

if you have any more questions on specifics or want an actual tutorial on something, don't hesitate to ask! and that goes for anyone reading this very long-winded post. kudos if you made it this far!

[tehphilosophersstoned]

The Cancer Blog

Last year I learned that I have cancer. It began in 2021, with frequent and painful urination. I contacted my doctor, and urine tests were taken, but the results came back with nothing. Keep taking the pills was the only advice. Ibuprofen provided relief from the pain and the inflamation, making it all a little easier to bear.

In August of that year I drove to Wales. The drive took much longer than anticipated due to frequent pit stops (piss stops).

In December of that year, my pee began to turn red, and I contacted the doctor again. Tests revealed that there was indeed a lot of blood in my urine. More tests followed. I had an excrucatingly painful process called Cystoscopy, where a camera was inserted into my urethra, without anasthetic, so my insides could be viewed on a computer screen. The doctor tried to get me to look, but I was far too distracted by toe-curling pain to want to look at the red cabbages growing inside my bladder.

Next came the biopsy. Mercifully, this one came with anasthetic. Described as 'combing the bladder', a few scrapings were taken from inside my bladder & then taken away for examination.

I receved the results in June 2022. Grade 3 Transitional cell cancer of bladder. It was explained that this means that the cancer has already spread beyond the bladder, so removing the bladder to solve the problem was, in my case, no longer an option. As an added complication, I also have COPD, or shortness of breath.

In July 2022, an oncologist explained that I would not be strong enough for either chemotherapy, radiotherapy or immunotherapy, due to the COPD complication. In spite of this, I was still offered these treatments. Given the low probability of a desirable outcome, and the poor quality of life that these treatments would give me, I elected to have none of it. I felt quite relieved to walk out of that hospital and not have to go back. The oncologist gave me a prognosis of one year more or less.

The doctors gave me palliative care in the form of pain relief (morphine). I began to pursue a path of alternative treatments. Daily carrot juice. Medicinal mushroooms (Lion's Mane, Tramates, Cordyceps, Maitake, Shiitake, Reishi), all manner of Vitamin supplements.

In October 2022, I flew to Mexico, to the small town of Ixtapa, which is a hotbed of dodgy doctors. Here I met Bo, and submitted myself to treatment with her. She threw everything at it. First, I had to undergo the Jab Rehab Protocol. In short, the Covid jabs were named as a possible cause of my problem. A 2 day course of the dreaded Ivermectin, daily breathing exercises (after Wm Hof), activated charcoal tablets and plenty of fresh juices.

I had advanced reflexology, which is a version of reflexology where pointy things were poked into the foot until the pain level reached 8 out of 10. The theory being that the body cries help by drawing attention to a particular spot, and sends the menders in.

I breathed Brown's gas, a combination of oxygen and hydrogen. I had ozone gas blown into my ears and up my arse. On saturdays I had acupuncture. I drank 'structured water' and frankincense. I took a number of tinctures. one for the pee problem, one for the lungs & one for the kidneys.

On Sundays' I went to a Temazcal, a sort of native sweat lodge. Although I never managed to endure a whole session in the dark hot pizza oven, I felt this to be maybe the most healing part of my journey.

I returned home with a whole load of frankincense medicines.

After a time back home, I lost interest in taking these things.

Now I just muddle on with morphine and ibuprofen, eating as healthily as I can bear. The COPD is proving to be at least as much a problem as the cancer. Terrifying panic attacks, where I can't catch my breath, and wonder 'Is this it?'

I am on a crash course in resigning to whatever is in front of me.

[jinkieswouldyoulookatthis]

Okay, this, as always, a lot, so I'm going to try my best to reply to the core conversation because if I try to reply to all of this my ADHD is gonna tie me up in knots. I'm also putting this under a cut to help with the overall post length.

If you think that Dean's terrible decision to wipe Lisa and Ben's memories of him, was misogynistic then we are coming at this from really different definitions. Because Dean has a habit of making sweeping, life-altering decisions for other people without taking them or their wishes into account, he overrides or just doesn't consider them <- and this notably includes his brother. This is not based on Lisa being female, Dean just prioritizes his own emotions over other people's everything. If I read this correctly, you said that you were sympathetic to Dean's decision to force Sam to let Gadreel possess him, even though you knew it wasn't going to work out well. But Dean removing himself entirely from Lisa and Ben's lives, wiping all of their memories of him, something that he, right or wrong, felt was the only way to save them from himself and the epic levels of disaster that follow him, was a bridge too far and, somehow, misogynistic? However you're making this distinction does not make sense to me.

Misogyny literally means hatred of women, from the Greek root words misein “to hate” and gyne “woman”. And yeah, I know that root words don't entirely determine current definitions or common usage, but, there is that particular layer to the definition of misogyny that sets it apart from the definition of sexism.

Yes, we are all swimming in an ocean of patriarchy and it really isn't a matter of "all men" for anything, because humans are nuanced and complicated. We also learn and grow, but also, too often, get damaged and hurt along the way. Or decide to "play along" rather than stand up against the shitty things other people say, for a whole host of possible reasons. Anyone is capable of doing something, or thinking something, or saying something that is misogynistic. Just occasionally falling into that doesn't equal "being a misogynist" either. For that label to stick, one would have to have a persistent track record of saying and doing (and thus thinking) misogynistic things, proving that they actually do harbor a hatred or negative view of women in general. There are different levels to all of this nuance that are easier to discuss and to avoid miscommunication, to discuss more effectively, when we utilize words with nuanced differences to their meanings.

Some of what you talked about would definitely fall into the misogyny bucket, yes. But some of it wouldn't, some of it is better defined as sexism, while some of it I'm not even sure has anything to do with gender really at all.

I feel like I need to convey my sympathy for the personal experiences that you shared, I don't want to gloss over or ignore it. While I have never been in exactly that sort of situation, I have had friends say some out of fucking line shit to me. Sometimes we were in a situation where I was able to call them out on it, and so I did. Other times, I let stuff slide because I did not feel safe standing up for myself, or standing up against something awful being lobbed at me. So I do get that. It sucks. What your partner said was, truly, horrifying, at least from where I'm standing, and I can only imagine the effect that would have had and likely still has, to some degree, on you.

I am not saying that all the things that happened in the show and on the set for the show were never inappropriate or never wrong/bad, because people are complex and there are a lot of layers to most everything. And, as I mentioned in my original post, sexism was definitely at play. I still think that the majority of what people call misogyny is actually better defined by the word sexism, and that the overuse of misogyny muddies up the meanings of these words and makes it so that when I say, "That's not misogyny, it's sexism," what people seem to hear is, somehow, that I'm brushing off everything as not problematic.

So, to be clear, something doesn't need to be labeled misogyny to be problematic. Sexism is still very problematic.

And, yes, definitions of words change over time. Hopefully this happens as our understanding of situations evolve. But, what I am seeing in the prevalence of the preferred, nearly exclusive, use of "misogyny," with nary a use of the word "sexism" to be seen, is that we are actually losing important nuance. You and everyone else, are free to use whatever word you think best fits, of course. But I'm probably going to be sitting over here thinking that this whole conversation would be clearer and much more effective if we kept both words in play.

Cool, since the OP made the post non-reblogable, I'm just going to put this here...

Again, not saying it's not sexist. I actually literally said it was (as can be seen in this handy dandy highlighted screenshot of my post they were responding to. It's just not misogynistic. OP seems to have completely missed that distinction. Oh no, wait, they didn't miss it they commented on it in their tags...

Yeah, the terms have been being muddied up for a long while, but if no one ever pushes back on that, then we will lose the distinction and any hope of having an educated or nuanced conversation might as well be flung out the window. Ffs. Yes, word usage changes, and evolves, but not all changes or evolutions are good things.

Sam and Dean have sexist baggage. Dean more than Sam. And that is because Kripke and the writers and producers and directors and just a lot of people in general, have sexist baggage. So call it sexist. I mean, why the insistence on specifically using the word with the worse layers of meaning, when those worse layers don't actually seem to apply???

Obviously, this isn't just this one person, so many people do this. And I'm not picking on this one person, which is why I'm not tagging them and really don't care if they see this or not. I'm griping simply from my own frustration at how willfully reductive people in general are.

[owl-with-a-pen]

Prompt where brainy gets very angry over something and nia just wraps her arms around his waist to give him a big hug from behind. That “it’s okay, I’m here” trope. Specific but I’m curious to see how you would write it x

- Okay so this gave me a cute idea that I decided to run with. Hope you enjoy!

Nia knew it was bad the second she saw Alex walking quickly in the opposite direction from the Tower’s lab.

“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you,” Alex warned as she passed Nia by, offering her a strained smile. “He’s in a mood.”

Nia winced.

Right. One of Brainy’s classic moods. The Super Friends had learnt to make themselves scarce when one presented itself. And, oh boy, did they present themselves.

Although Brainy had had a tendency to get moody before removing his inhibitors, this was way different. Anger was still so new to him in this sort of a capacity, and when he needed to focus on something – really focus - distractions were something he just couldn’t stand. Outside stimulus became too difficult to manage when he was in that kind of headspace. It was times like those that he valued his privacy, and would readily snap at whoever didn’t grant it to him.

Nia leant hesitantly in the archway to the lab, digging her shoulder into the brickwork as she watched Brainy worriedly from behind. He was tinkering with something on his workbench; his back and shoulders were rigid, and although she couldn’t see his face, Nia was certain she could hear a distinct crack from how tightly he was clenching his jaw.

It wasn’t good for him to hold everything in like this, but the alternative wasn’t exactly pretty. When Brainy had told her about the broken keyboard, the broken tablet and the very nearly broken TV, it had become clear to her that he’d needed a healthier outlet.

Kelly had spoken to them both about ways to support each other when it came to nightmares or outside stressors, but Brainy was more of a complicated case than Nia, simply because he’d never experienced these emotions before. He had no frame of reference for even half of what he was feeling, and that terrified him.

And so, as much as she wanted to respect Brainy’s unspoken wish, Nia knew she couldn’t let him stay holed up alone in his lab like this. It'd only encourage his emotions to grow even further out of check.

Her concerns were verified when Brainy jerked his hand suddenly, throwing the device he had been working on clean from the table, sending it to the floor with a jarring clang.

“Sprock,” he muttered tightly. He made no move to retrieve it. Instead, he gripped tightly to the workbench’s edge, leaning his full weight into it. He ducked his head, chest heaving with the effort of holding back this newfound rage.

Nia knew the signs well enough by now. He was seconds from bursting wide open, his most unruly emotions reaching an intensity he wouldn’t be able to filter out on his own.

Nia hated seeing him like this, but what hurt her the most was knowing just how helpless all of this made Brainy feel. He didn’t like what these emotions did to him, and most certainly didn’t want to act on his most violent impulses. It was why Kelly had offered her help in the first place, even suggesting some breathing exercises for when things got too volcanic for him to handle. Right now, though? Brainy was barely able to work those exercises through his lungs.

It wasn’t working. This tightly wound, it would be impossible for Brainy to come down organically. Nia’s heart clenched, the urge to do something for him so profound that she could barely stay put in the doorway. But what could she do? It wasn’t exactly like she could rip this anger out of him. She couldn’t control a person’s emotions, her powers didn’t work that way.

If only they could. If only she could offer him something…

Unless…

Nia frowned suddenly, glancing down towards her hands, the energy filters she wore as bracelets around her wrists.

Surely, it couldn’t hurt to try… right?

Nia pushed herself from the wall, heading carefully across the room. She managed her footing well enough that Brainy didn’t hear her over the laboured pants of his own breathing. By the time she was in reaching distance, she could see the tremors running through his arms, the pinched corners of his lips as he swallowed down the urge to unleash his most tempestuous emotions.

Nia didn’t think. Instead, she took that final step forward, sliding her arms around Brainy’s back, clasping her hands firmly together against his front.

It was a bold move, all things considered. After all, Brainy wasn’t always welcoming to anyone’s touch, not even her own.

Expectedly, Brainy stiffened the second he felt her arms around him, although he didn’t try to move out of her hold. “Nia-?” he managed weakly. “What’re you-?”

“Just breathe, okay?” Nia said softly, tucking her face into the private warmth of his shoulder. She could feel his pulse quivering against her cheek, sidling close enough that she was able to mould herself against the gentle curve of his spine. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”

Her question was clearly enough to throw him off guard. Brainy glanced about himself restlessly before relenting, closing his eyes. “This rage,” he muttered. “It- it won’t stop. Every time I think I have a hold on myself, it comes bubbling back up.” He swallowed hard, baring his teeth. “I can’t stop it, Nia.”

“You got frustrated,” Nia said, holding her voice steady. “You just need to take a break. It’ll pass, I promise.”

Brainy choked out a strained laugh. “I- don’t know how it can. Not without…”

He didn’t finish. He didn’t need to; Nia knew exactly what he was implying. Previously, these attacks had only ended in one way: with him breaking a particularly complex piece of his own equipment, which only furthered his frustrations later on when he inevitably had to rebuild it from the ground up.

Lena had encouraged him to let his emotions out, and maybe at first that had been helpful – cathartic, even. But, Nia knew Brainy. When not directed at a bad guy, the act of violence only made him feel uneasy, reminding him none too gently of the cruelty his ancestral line was capable of. He may have only ever broken inanimate objects when releasing his pent-up rage, but it didn’t stop him from ending every outburst with a tearful comedown. It was usually only then that Brainy would normally let her in, which was why Nia knew exactly how exhausting this was for him.

Every episode was taxing on Brainy, both physically and emotionally, and yet they never got any easier for him to manage. He just couldn’t catch a break. No matter how hard he tried, his anger was always prickling just beneath his skin, ready to burst through at a moment’s notice.

This time, though?

“What if I helped?” Nia suggested, spreading her hands tactfully across his abdomen.

“What do you m-” but Brainy didn’t finish. Instead, he sucked in a sharp breath, arching his back instinctively as Nia closed her eyes, allowing her dream energy to wash across her palms, encouraging Brainy to absorb it in earnest.

Brainy sagged into the desk immediately, the metalwork denting like putty between his fingers. He groaned aloud, his voice distorted against the crackling static of his modulator. When she was certain it was working, Nia summoned more energy, not just to her hands, but to every part of her, willing it to swirl and crackle in the air around them, transferring to Brainy's body in a whirl of blue fog. Brainy laxed further into Nia’s touch as a result, lashes fluttering as he tried to hold himself steady against the workbench.

Nia smirked, running her hands tenderly across Brainy's ribs before slipping them both behind his back, working her fingers carefully into her boyfriend’s shoulders. Her energy looped around every digit like electric blue coils as she continued to massage it through his muscles. The tension inside of Brainy unravelled all at once, enough that his legs very nearly gave out, but not quite. After all, this wasn’t the knock-out potency of her energy that she’d been steadily perfecting against her enemies. Instead, this was something new, a far weaker version Nia hadn’t seen much use for in the field. If anything, it worked as her own brand of Nyquil, instilling a drowsiness that encouraged total relaxation of the host in question. It wasn’t exactly something that could do much on the offensive. But, for this? Nia couldn’t think of anything more perfect.

“How does this feel?” she asked after a long moment, pressing her thumb experimentally into the base of Brainy’s shoulder blade.

“Good,” Brainy murmured, a pleasant shudder rolling down his spine. His voice was still distorted by a mechanised echo, and he showed no signs of trying to correct it. “Really good.”

“Good.” Nia grinned, kissing his throat. She kept kneading circles across her boyfriend’s back, tracing her fingernails down both sides of his spine. When she reached just above Brainy’s tailbone, she bit her lip, slipping her hands quickly beneath his shirt, pressing them against his skin.

Brainy's body ran far warmer than Nia's, even with dream energy burning through her blood. Brainy inhaled sharply at the foreign sensation of Nia's cold fingers before his eyes rolled to a close. The sudden lack of tension in his jaw caused his lips to part, allowing his lungs to unlock. Already, Nia found the steady rise and fall of his chest much improved, allowing him to breathe unrestricted for the first time since this episode had started.

Nia tucked her face against Brainy’s neck, pressing another kiss just above the collar of his jacket. Even her lips were alive with static, potent enough to cause Brainy’s throat to spasm. If the droning hum of contentment issuing from his chest was anything to go by, she figured he was starting to really enjoy this.

She grinned, looping her arms back around his front. “Still angry?” she asked.

Brainy’s eyes were half lidded when he shook his head. “I—thank you.”

“Anytime,” Nia said.

Neither of them were willing to separate just yet, so Nia stayed exactly where she was, feeding gentle waves of energy against Brainy's back the whole while.

Kelly had told them that there was no overnight solution for this, warning that at times, it might feel like they were barely making any progress at all.

Today, though? Nia felt like she’d made enough to be proud of.

And hopefully, Brainy felt the same way, too.

[commandtower-solring-go]

Having just finished Fallout New Vegas for the first time, and spending over 60 hours playing through the game on this one run, I’m left with one question: Did my actions matter?

And of course, they mattered. The game is known for providing interesting consequences to your decisions. Nearly everything that you do has a ripple on effect that gets it talked about by the people of New Vegas. In establishing an independent Vegas, I did everything I could to provide the greatest good to the greatest number of people who needed it. Usurping those hungry for power without myself falling for that hunger. However, the game ultimately ends with the same message. The same message every Fallout ends with: War never changes. I ask then, not whether my actions had consequences, but whether those consequences mattered.

The interesting thing about my play through of the game was that as the power shifted, who benefitted changed. There was never a situation where everyone was okay, and often times (especially in the case of the Followers of the Apocalypse) a theoretically improved world was actively worse. For the Followers, helping more people meant helping each less. They were reluctant to help at all, and ultimately my choice bit them in the ass. However, despite that, I still did good. I got both the NCR and the recklessness damage they caused out, and removed the slavers that were Cesare’s Legion.

One of the other things was in pursuing a ‘just’ system, I ended up needing to cause more damage than intended. Working with the Brotherhood of Steel, I believed that the Elder McNamara was right in his decision making. I think much of that decision was influenced by our present lockdown, and I genuinely believed that his actions saved the Brotherhood where other’s actions would have seen them die. And in doing that, I lost the opportunity to overthrow him and, in doing so, peacefully have the Brotherhood side with you in the conflict at Hoover Dam. The only solution was to destroy them or concede that they would be a factor and not pursuit an Independent Vegas. This was made more complicated with Veronica as a companion. At the time of the decision making her relationship with the Brotherhood was rocky, and I needed to remove myself from her in order to justify the actions. That the end would justify the means.

This is where I ask if the consequences of my actions matter. On a micro, personal level, of course they do. The decisions I make influence every single person they effect. But on a macro, impersonal level, of course they don’t. Eventually the effect of my actions will fall into chaos and none of it will be remembered. But war represents a macro appeal to micro life and in being swept up in it, we forget what we’re doing all of this for. If we pursue major conflict in the hopes of making life better for people, unless our actions help everyone, we’re not better than before we started. How can I say I am doing what’s right when I’m roping so many people into a conflict, they didn’t ask for in the hopes of justify my own internal moral compass? When both sides of the conflict cause problems, does contesting with both result in a better world than letting the lesser of both win? Is an independent Vegas better than one ran by the NCR? I guess it depends on who you ask. Then, who am I to dictate who those people are.

But despite those questions, life carries on. People adapt. People find a way to thrive and grow and live and forget despite the actions of one person or the war millions fight for. People carried on even in the wake of nuclear apocalypse. Was it the wrong thing to do? Of course. But, at the end of the day, did it matter? People still wake up. People still work. People still lie, cheat, love, thank, kill and create.

I don’t think there is an end to this thought just yet. But I needed to share it. And there is probably something obvious staring me in the face. Like how its much easier to look at the lives of video game characters from a distance, but I think it highlights more than it lets on. And even if it doesn’t using it as a platform to meditate on the consequences of our actions and, thus, the ethics of our actions, is extremely useful. 

If I’m left questioning the effectiveness of a single person who touched the lives of hundreds and over threw two and a half literal tyrants, then how do I look at my own actions and broad desires which are so much smaller?

[bexterbex]

A Soul to Mend His Own | Ch. 80

Warning, PLEASE CHECK TAGS IF YOU SEE SOMETHING YOU DON’T WANT TO READ THEN DON’T READ. | Tag lists are closed | INBOX OPEN

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Will tag as I go along, Will update tags, Slow Burn, Influenced by Star Trek and other Sci-Fi themes, References to We Happy Few, Tons of References and quotes to George Orwells 1984 see if you can find them all, The First Order is the new Big Brother,  but who is really surprised, Blatant Nazi Symbolism, Interrogation Themes, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Really just drawn out Slow Burn, Don’t repost without permission, Torture themes, Suggestive Themes, Execution themes, Disturbing Themes, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Verbal Abuse, Controlling Kylo Ren, Physical Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, Possessive Kylo Ren, A character shamelessly based on Zelda

A Kylo Ren x Modern! Reader in a soulmate au with canon divergence. —————————————SLOWBURN————————————–

He is already the Supreme leader, searching the universe to find you, his Empress. Your name on his wrist has been the only constant in his life, while you have doubts about his existence and his acceptance of you. He isn’t in the database and why did the name Kylo Ren cover Ben Solo?

MASTERLIST

Chapter 80: Epilogue

You woke up alone, one of your least favorite things to do, right up there with presenting at public executions and planetary political banquets. You got up and headed to your dressing room, where you were attended by your two ladies-in-waiting. One heavily pregnant with her second child, and the other coming gracefully out of middle age. These were the two women who prepared you for war every single day, the ones who put you back together when you needed it. Today war would end, at least temporarily.

They dressed you and prepared you for the day. You took your breakfast peacefully out on the balcony like you did every morning. The planet had changed; it was no longer the dark dreary thing that you first saw, now it was thriving with life. A beautiful utopia, all built to please you as Empress and as a capital to build your Empire. It was now a planet that could see its sun, you watched as ships buzzed around in the atmosphere, your people were alive and thriving.

But you watched as one particular ship landed down beneath the palace, one that always caught your attention. A unique TIE Silencer. You were off to the palace entrance, servants and officers dodging out of your way as you stormed to the platform. You were lowered down to the surface of the planet, guarded by your trusty captain in silver armor, and her golden comrade. Both very used to keeping up with your quick paces and split-second decisions. You exited the palace with them at your heels; they knew your destination and were unconcerned about your immediate safety as a result.

You rushed to the ship, its pilot not yet departing it. You waited as patiently as you could as you watched the pilot disembark from the intimidating craft. His black uniform blending in with the ship itself. Both of which were now out of place in your bright planet. But you felt every molecule in you rejoice as your eyes made contact with the chrome encompassed visor. The pilot offered you their hand which you took, happily, the soft leather warm against your bare palm. You lead the pilot silently into the palace, your gilded guards leaving you. You waited patiently for the platform to lower you down into the big chamber. Guiding the pilot passed the large statues, and passed the throne and side chamber, into the little piece of hidden paradise within the palace.

Servants and staff dissipated when you entered, leaving you alone as you brought the pilot to the fountain in the middle, where you both sat down along the fountain’s edge. You leaned in and kissed the mouthpiece of his helmet before ordering it off. You were met with the beautiful eyes of your husband. You leaned in for another kiss, this time he held you against him. After a few moments of sweet bliss, and the only sounds to be heard were running water and of the birds in the garden, you spoke up.

“How was your mission?” You pushed back a lock of hair from his face. He looked as if he hasn’t aged a day since you first met him.

He gave you a peck on the lips before responding, “Good, the revolution of Jakku has been squashed. The leader executed, and all seems to be right in the galaxy once more.” He held you in his arms like a damsel in distress, like he was your personal savior, which wasn’t far off from the truth.

You smiled up at him. “And your home just in time for our anniversary tomorrow.” One of your hands braced itself against his broad chest, feeling the ribbing of his armor underneath it. A familiar texture that your body deemed as safe.

He kissed your forehead as you leaned against his chest, “Five years of marriage.” His hand rubbing circles into your back.

You made a small noise of contentment, “Five years of forever.” You could feel his Force energy surrounding you with a happy feeling, one that you now recognized as his version of love. Your husband was a complicated man, one you were the only person to understand, your match.

He chuckled at you scooting to get closer to him; he picked you up and placed you in his lap, his chin resting on the top of your head, just avoiding your Empress Crown. “Do you have anything special planned for us,” he asked. He knew you did, but he asked anyway.

You gently removed your head from out from under his, avoiding him being hit with the points of the crown. You looked up at him, with a face, “Of course I do, but do you have anything planned mister?” You crossed your arms over your chest.

He leaned in real close to your ear, “Of course I do, it is my number one priority, as guard dog to the Empress, to keep her happy.” His lips then caressed your cheek as they made their way to yours.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, allowing the kiss to deepen. It has been days since you last saw him, and you were worried about the small revolution taking too long and that he would miss your anniversary. You could stand strong without him, but everything was much easier when he was by your side. When the kiss broke, Kylo was the first to speak.

He teased, “So are we going to have a proper reunion, or are you going to make me wait until tomorrow?” His hands trailing down your sides before coming to rest and squeezing your ass.

After all these years your body still responded to his advancements with blush and squeals. Essentially a hormonal inexperienced teenager, but you two had been used to each other so much that it wasn’t the case. You could feel the heat growing between your legs.

You buried your face into his neck trying to hide your already evident blush, “A proper reunion.”

And that’s all he needed to carry you off out of the garden, down the hall, up a flight of stairs, down another hall, before dumping you onto your large bed. Causing a squeak from you before he climbed up over top of you. A proper reunion indeed.

You were two halves of the same soul, combined, mended together to become one. You saved him and he saved you, together you held the galaxy in your hands. Together all the stars were yours to have, all the stars in the galaxy were yours to share together. Both of your dreams came true, but together they were one dream, one soul, one eternity.

A/N: Thank you all for joining me on this journey, but the time is here my friends, the story must end. I want to thank every single one of you for leaving kind comments, likes and reblogs. It really does mean a lot to me that so many people like my story. I am glad to have shared a part of myself with you all. I hope you are well and happy my friends.

[bowsie22]

Pingxie Collection 4

Summary: There was something wrong with Wu Xie.

It started small, barely noticeable. A forgotten date, pricing an antique wrong. Then Wu Xie started making bigger mistakes. Confusing tombs, forgetting Xiaoge’s favourite meal. Pangzi was worried. Was Wu Xie sick? Had he touched something in the last tomb? Was he just messing with them? Pangzi swore that if this was some stupid joke or prank, he was going to destroy Wu Xie’s extensive cardigan collection.

Thankfully he wasn’t the only one to notice. Xiaoge was suspicious too. And he was a bit more proactive about investigating it, following Wu Xie whenever he left Wushanju and looking through his phone and computer. When Pangzi mentioned the invasion of privacy, Xiaoge responded that he’d apologise when they finally figured out what was going on. And more importantly, why Wu Xie hadn’t confided in them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After two weeks of this, Pangzi and Xiaoge made the decision to search Wu Xie’s office. It was the only room in Wushanju that Wu Xie had completely to himself, sharing the living spaces with the other two and a bedroom with Xiaoge.

The door closed behind Wu Xie, but the two waited for a few minutes. It wasn’t unusual for Wu Xie to forget something and have to rush back in to grab it. Five minutes later they walked into his office which looked like a bomb had hit it. Avoiding a stack of papers waist high, Pangzi winced. “Does he not have a filing system? A way to organise these things? I can see why Wang Meng avoids this place.” Looking through all this junk wouldn’t be easy.

Half an hour later and they still hadn’t found anything of use. Financial records, maps, historical records, books, Pangzi had found them all and then some. But nothing suspicious. Collapsing into the chair behind the desk, Pangzi sighed. He had hoped that they would find some answer in here. Watching Xiaoge flick through a stack of papers, he knew he wasn’t the only one. He leaned back, concentrating on the ceiling, not expecting to find anything. But directly above his head, there it was. A barely noticeable gap between one ceiling tile and the next. Scrambling onto the desk, Pangzi reached up, shoving the tile aside and reaching into gap. Fingers gripping something, Pangzi tugged it towards himself. A box, bit cliché but it was something. Pangzi would accept anything at this point.

Handing the box to Xiaoge, Pangzi watched as the older man opened it, his face becoming somehow paler. “What is it? Oh god, is it his nudes?” Turning the box around, Xiaoge held it up for his friend to see. “Well, that complicates things, doesn’t it?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“A dinner party?” Pangzi nodded, concentrating more on the food cooking in front of him than Wu Xie standing behind him. “You couldn’t have told me this before?” Dropping the spoon, Pangzi turned to face his friend, aware of Xiaoge dropping his knife and doing the same. “Wu Xie, we planned this last month, remember? Huaye and Heiye have been visiting Huaye’s shipping facilities around China. We thought they might like a nice dinner to welcome them home.”

Wu Xie stared at the floor for a second too long. He looked up, smiling brightly at his friends. “Of course, I’m such an idiot! How could I forget something like this? Well, I doubt you want my help in the kitchen. I’ll go get the table ready.” Listening to footsteps fade, Pangzi turned back to his cooking, Xiaoge returning to his vegetables at the same time. “Xiaoge, is everything ready for tonight?” Xiaoge nodded, eyes on the chopping board. Tonight was going to be interesting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Surprising no one, the meal was delicious. Collecting the plates, Pangzi winked at Heiye, who stood up, pouring wine in everyone’s glass. “A toast! To say thank you to our generous hosts.” He tipped his glass to Xiaoge who sat with arm on the back of Wu Xie’s chair, a soft hand stroking down the younger’s back. Tipping his glass back, Wu Xie took a deep drink, realising too late that he was the only one who had. As his friends watched, Wu Xie slumped unconscious, face first onto the table.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Struggling to open his eyes, Wu Xie winced as he felt rope rub against his wrists and ankles. Looking down at his body, he realised that he was tied to a chair in the middle of Wushanju’s back courtyard. “Guys, this isn’t funny! Untie me, let me go!” He was quickly surrounded by the group, Heiye standing behind him, Pangzi and Xie Yuchen on either side and Xiaoge in front of him. Turning his doe eyes towards his boyfriend, Wu Xie pouted. “Xiaoge, what are you doing? What is going on?” Pangzi threw something at the younger man’s feet. “You know what, we were just about to ask you the same question.”

Zhang Haike swore as he saw his two face masks at his feet. Looking up, he froze at the coldness in Xiaoge’s eyes. Heiye leaned in to whisper in his ear, “The only reason Yaba Zhang isn’t killing you right now is because you know where Wu Xie is. Be smart about this Zhang Haike and tell us where he is.” Never let it be said that Zhang Haike wasn’t a smart man. He knew that he couldn’t fight his way out of this, not with Heiye and Xiaoge there. Not one of the men surrounding him would hesitate to kill him if it meant Wu Xie’s safety. “Cox has him. He thinks that Wu Xie’s blood is the key to his experiments. We sent a message pretending to be Xie Yuchen who needed help and the little idiot came running. I’d been studying his behaviours for a while now, so it made sense for me to replace him. I can bring you to where he is provided I get to live.”

After a quick discussion, Pangzi went to get the car while Heiye and Xiao Hua went to Wushanju to gather up some weapons. Xiaoge stayed behind, keeping watch over his old friend. The two stared at each other, Zhang Haike trying to see any fondness or softness that might be left. Xiaoge looked back at him, emotionless. “Why? Why did you do this? Why take him from me?” Zhang Haike couldn’t help but laugh, a horrible, bitter sound. “Why? Why? Are you serious? You are the Zhang family patriarch and you spend your time following that little idiot into tombs. You are at his beck and call constantly! You are wasting your blood on keeping him alive-“ Xiaoge’s sword flew through the air, resting against his throat. Swallowing, Zhang Haike felt blood trickle down his neck. Finally, some emotion from his old friend. Rage was better than indifference. “I follow him because I love him, I’m in love with him. Because he is the most important person in the world to me. If I don’t have him, I have nothing, there is nothing to keep me here. And I know that he feels the same way.”

Sheathing his sword, Xiaoge bent to untie Zhang Haike. “If I see you again, if you ever dare to wear his face again, I will kill you. There will be no hesitation, no mercy, you will die.” Zhang Haike stood, stumbling as blood flowed to his feet. Following his patriarch to the car where three heavily armed men waited for them, Zhang Haike realised that he may have made a mistake with this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Saving Wu Xie had been surprisingly easy. There weren’t many guards in the building and Zhang Haike’s key got them to the main lab with no problems. Once the scientists saw the armed men, they ran, valuing their lives more than their work apparently. Wu Xie lay in a bed in the main lab. One arm had a needle that removed blood every half hour, his other arm an IV that was giving him nutrients. According to Zhang Haike, Wu Xie was kept sedated. He was easier to handle like that. Xiao Hua went through the computers, copying anything useful onto a hard drive, deleting everything when he was done. Heiye and Pangzi laid charges around the room, leaving enough time for the group to get out. Xiaoge removed the needles from Wu Xie’s arms, lifting the young man into his arms.

Pangzi and Xiao Hua settled Wu Xie into the car as Heiye kept watch. Xiaoge stood with Zhang Haike, watching his friends work. “Remember what I said Zhang Haike, I don’t want to see you again.” With a final look at his childhood friend, Xiaoge climbed into the car beside Wu Xie, pulling the other’s head to rest on his shoulder. His friend had made his choices and so had Xiaoge. There was never a moment of doubt, Xiaoge knew his choice had been the right one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once he woke up, Wu Xie showered, ate and collapsed onto the living room couch, pulling Xiaoge down with him. After some manoeuvring, Xiaoge lay on his back, Wu Xie lying on top of him, head resting on his chest. It was his favourite way to lie on the couch. He claimed that hearing Xiaoge’s heartbeat always relaxed him. Xiao Hua and Heiye settled themselves onto the love seat while Pangzi took the armchair. They sat in silence, knowing that Wu Xie would speak when he was ready to.

“I was unconscious for most of it. They woke me up for a few minutes every day. Not sure what they did with my blood. I think they made some serums or something? Ah Ning stopped them from injecting me with them. They injected some mice though. And then the mice melted, so thank God for Ah Ning. And yes Pangzi, I know we need to have another conversation about me rushing off by myself and being stupid.” Pangzi nodded, satisfied smile on his face. He was proud of Wu Xie knowing that he had made a mistake. Look at his little Tianzhen growing up. The group sat in the living room for another few hours, wanting to spend some time with their friend and knowing that Wu Xie always needed to be surrounded by the people he loved at times like these.

Pangzi was the first to move, dragging himself to his feet. Before leaving the room, he ruffled Wu Xie’s hair, laughing at the annoyed shout. Heiye and Xiao Hua followed him, Heiye also going for the hair, Xiao Hua leaning down to press a soft kiss to the now messy hair. “We love you Wu Xie.” Wu Xie sat up to pull his oldest friend into a tight hug. “Love you too Xiao Hua.”

Finally. Xiaoge got to tuck Wu Xie into their bed. Climbing in behind him, he pulled Wu Xie close, smiling as the younger man pressed a kiss to the other’s clavicle as he did every night. “I know I say this every time, but thank you for coming for me, especially considering what you lost to get me back.” Xiaoge took a minute to respond, hand running through Wu Xie’s hair, slowly lulling the man to sleep. “Wu Xie, I love you. I’ll always come for you, no matter what. And Zhang Haike isn’t as important as you. I can lose anything and anyone in this world except you.” Looking down he realised that Wu Xie had fallen asleep. Well, it wasn’t like Wu Xie didn’t know that Xiaoge loved him. Xiaoge would just have to happily spend the rest of their lives reminding him of that fact.

[hookedonapirate]

Beyond a Reasonable Doubt

Summary: Detective Killian Jones took an indefinite leave of absence from SBPD after his brother was murdered in the Line of Duty. Bitter and broken, he resides in a cabin on the beach when his brother's former partner, David Nolan brings him a case he knows the vengeful detective won’t be able to resist. A case involving Liam's killer.  

Dr. Emma Swan makes all of her decisions like she operates on her patients—with care, competence and compassion. But when her colleague, Graham Humbert, is murdered in cold blood by the man who was freed because of a decision she made as a juror, she starts second-guessing herself. To make matters worse, her squeaky clean reputation is being questioned when she becomes a suspect for Graham’s murder.

There is one detective who believes she’s innocent, and he has a plan to protect Emma and find his brother's killer at the same time. When Killian finds himself caught between his duties to the SBPD and his need for vengeance, matters are only complicated by the feelings he develops for the woman he's supposed to protect.

He's impulsive and hot-tempered, and she's methodical and cool under pressure. Despite their differences, can they work together to bring the murderer to justice, or will the murderer get to them first?

A/N: Many thanks go to @ultraluckycatnd​ for her wonderful beta-ing skills and @onceuponaprincessworld​ as always for her encouragement and letting me bounce ideas off of her.

Rated: Explicit due to mature language, character death, violence, murder and smut. The scenes won’t be too graphic, but I’d rather overrate than underrate it.

Catch up: Pro I Ch 1 I Ch 2 I Ch 3

Also available on: AO3 I FF.N

Chapter 4

Killian knocks on the door and lets out a slow, troubled breath as he turns around, sliding his hands into his pockets. He’s rarely here, but it’s time he changes that. And not just for the case, but for Liam. For his sister-in-law. He used to come over to visit Liam, Elsa, and Camila all the time, but Liam’s death caused tension between him and Elsa. He just hates that it took this long; he hates that David had to pull Killian’s head out of the Port Lavaca sand for him to realize this. 

  “Killian?”

  The sound of his sister-in-law’s voice pulls him from his thoughts, and he turns around, offering a faint smile. “Hi.”

  “Hi,” Elsa says, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms as she stands in the doorway. “I wasn't expecting you.” 

  “Nice to see you too, love,” he teases with a smirk. When her solemn expression never changes into something more cheerful, his smile dims. “Is this a bad time?”

  “No, it’s just… usually you call ahead first.”

  Killian scratches behind his ear. “Apologies, love, I just…”

  “Camila’s out shopping with Anna.”

  “Dress shopping?”

  “No, we ordered her dress weeks ago. Anna's just getting her some new clothes. They’ll probably be back in an hour or so.”

  “That’s okay. Actually, I came here to talk to you.”

  Elsa studies him for a moment with a scrupulous eye. “Okay...” She opens the door for him, her features laced with concern. “Is everything alright?” 

  “Aye, everything’s fine,” he replies as he steps inside. She shuts the door behind him as he turns around to face her, expelling a tentative breath. “Actually, no, it’s not,” he murmurs, his eyes meeting hers. “It hasn’t been for a while… and I wanna change that.”

  Elsa knits her brows in confusion. “What do you mean? What’s going on, Killian?”

  He gestures between them. “I’m talking about us, Elsa. You and me. We haven't had the same relationship since Liam passed, and I’m mostly to blame for that.”

  Elsa arches a brow as if to say, are you sure about that?

  Killian chuckles. “Okay, I take all the blame.”

  Elsa folds her arms over her chest, her features softening. “Okay, I’m listening.”

  Killian tilts his head in the direction of the kitchen. “Can we sit? The conversation might be too heavy for standing.”

  “Sure,” she says, heading toward the kitchen. “Would you like anything to drink?”

  “Got any wine?” he asks as he follows behind her. 

  Elsa turns her head toward him, her thin brows climbing her forehead. “Since when did you become a wine drinker?”

  “Not for me, for you. You might need it.”

  “That heavy, huh?”

  “Aye.”

  “Well, I have some white wine, but Camila will be home soon and I don’t drink around her. Iced Tea okay?”

  “Aye. How’s she doing?” he asks as he takes a seat at the breakfast nook.

  Elsa grabs a pitcher of tea from the refrigerator and two glasses from the cupboard, filling them to the brim. “She’s doing fine.” She brings the drinks to the table, hands him one and sits across from him. “She’s growing like a weed.”

  Killian chuckles. “Well, she gets the tall gene from both parents. Liam was six feet tall and you’re what, 5’8?” he guesses before taking a sip of his tea, the glass slick with condensation.

  “5’7,” she corrects, her lips finally cracking into a faint smile. “5’9 in high heels.”

  “Still, she’s already taller than most kids her age.”

  “She is,” Elsa nods in agreement and takes a sip. 

  An awkward silence fills the room, apart from the slow tick of the wall clock, and Killian scratches behind his ear, not sure where to begin. Things are definitely not like they used to be. He used to be able to talk to Elsa like they were… well brother and sister. Sometimes they got along, sometimes they didn’t. But there had never been actual friction between them like there is now. He clears the cobwebs from his throat, breaking the silence. “So, um… I came here to apologize to you.”

  “Why? Because our relationship hasn’t been the same?”

  “Aye,” he nods, “and also because I never formally apologized to you for what happened after Liam… after he died.”

  “Killian, you don’t have to—”

  He puts out his hand dismissively. “I do, Elsa. I screwed up. If I hadn’t gone after Cassidy the way I did, he would’ve been on death row. He’d be long gone by now.”

  Elsa offers a half-smile and takes his hands in hers. “Killian, whatever you could’ve done or should’ve done or didn’t do, it doesn’t matter. It wouldn’t have brought Liam back. So stop blaming yourself for what happened.”

  Killian furrows his brows. “I don’t. Not anymore. But I thought you did.”

  Elsa shakes her head, eyes welling up with tears. “At first I blamed everyone and everything. I blamed Liam for not telling me about Cassidy or about the danger he was in. I blamed myself for not telling him to be careful every single time he left the house—” Her voice cracks as a tear rolls down her cheek. She laughs as she removes her hand from Killian’s to wipe her tears. “Hell. I even blamed the cat.”

  Killian offers a weak smile. “I blamed Snickers, too,” he jokes, making her laugh again. “I always thought he was an evil cat.”

  “But it didn’t matter who we blamed. Liam’s gone, and he’s never coming back. I’ve had to drag myself out of bed every goddamn morning knowing he wouldn’t suddenly walk through the front door telling me he fooled everyone into thinking he was dead. I’ve had to convince myself I wouldn’t wake up one day and find him in the shower and realize the past three years were all a dream.”

  He chuckles. “Nice Dallas reference.” 

  She laughs. “Thanks. Did you ever watch the reboot?”

  He used to watch the reruns of the original Dallas with Liam and Elsa after the reboot came out. They watched it for shits and giggles and because it was based in Texas, but who doesn’t secretly love a trashy sitcom? “No, did you?”

  She shakes her head. “Never did.”

  “So if you didn't blame me for Cassidy getting away, then why did you hate me for the past three years?” Killian asks, getting back to the matter at hand. 

  “I didn't hate you, Killian. I never hated you. It was just...” She pauses with a heavy sigh. “It was just easier to avoid you.” As she speaks, her eyes drift away from him and she looks up the ceiling, trying to fight off more tears. “It was too hard to look at you because every time I did, I saw him. I still do,” she wheezes, a sad smile on her face as her eyes fall back to his. “It brought back too much pain.”

  His heart tightens at the way she looks at him. He’s been told his whole life he and his brother had the same eyes, but he didn’t know how true it was until now. And he guessed he could see the resemblance in pictures or when he looked into the mirror, but he never realized how much their resemblance would affect his sister-in-law. 

  “And it’s bad enough I live with Liam’s female mini-me,” she says, laughter catching in her throat. 

  “I can imagine.” Killian’s lips twitch into a small smile. Camila has brown, curly hair and blue eyes like Liam did. “Here I was under the impression you blamed me all this time. I thought you still held some kind of grudge against me for letting Liam’s killer get away with what he’d done.”

  Elsa shakes her head. “I blamed you for a long time, believe me. Then I realized it's pointless to place blame. I mean, I could blame my sister for leaving the flash on my phone seven years ago, but if she hadn't, then Liam and I probably wouldn’t have met and we wouldn't have gotten married and had Camila. We wouldn't have had an amazing life together, even if his was cut too short.”

  “You're wrong about that, you know? You and Liam still would've met if we didn't catch you snapping his picture.”

  Elsa rolls her eyes and laughs. “I know he said he also noticed me in the restaurant, but you and I both know he would've been too shy to approach me.” 

  “Aye, that's what little brothers are for. They make the perfect wingmen,” Killian chuckles.

  “You mean younger brother?”

  “Aye.” When the laughter dies in his throat, his smile dims as he stares into his glass of tea. “Truth be told, I would give anything to hear him call me little brother again.”

  She smiles. “I know you would.”

  He nods, looking up at her again. “He noticed you as soon as you entered the restaurant and his eyes lit up like the Fourth of July. His expression changed like a light switch. As though he were living in the darkness and suddenly a light turned on. I had never seen him look at anyone like he looked at you. And the second he looked over to catch you taking his picture after we saw that flash from your phone go off, he was a goner.”

  Elsa nods with a laugh. “Yeah, I literally shined the light in his eyes.”

  “You did,” he agrees with a chuckle.

  “And you were next.”

  Killian furrows his brows and points a finger at my chest. “Me?”

  “Yep. I took Liam’s picture for myself, and I was going to take your picture for Anna. Before the flash went off, my plan was to get up, use the ladies’ room and snap your photo when I headed back to my seat. But thanks to Anna using my phone a couple nights before to take a group picture outside a nightclub, the flash was on and I was caught red-handed. And who knows, if that flash never went off, you could be the one marrying my sister on Saturday,” she teases. That was Anna and Elsa’s thing apparently—to take pictures of cute guys and text them to each other. That’s why Elsa was taking a picture of Liam that evening in the restaurant; she just didn’t realize the flash was on until she snapped the photo.

  Killian shakes his head. “That would be too weird. She’s family.”

  “True, but she wasn't back then.” Elsa takes a sip of her tea before setting her glass down. “It’s too bad my cousin ended up getting called into work that evening because you two might have hit it off… well actually you probably would’ve butted heads, but as they say, opposites attract,” she smirks.

  Killian arches a brow. “I have two questions,” he says, counting the questions on his index and middle finger, “Which cousin? And is she pretty?”

  Elsa laughs. “Emma. And yes, she’s very pretty. She was supposed to have dinner with me and my Aunt Ingrid that night, but canceled because she got called into work. She’s a doctor.”

  “Really? She’s smart and pretty, and you’ve never introduced us?” he asks, pretending to be offended before he takes a sip of his tea. He wouldn’t describe her as pretty though. More like stunningly beautiful.

  “And she's three years older than us. I know how you like your women older,” she smirks.

  Killian rolls his eyes, not appreciating the off handed remark. “I dated an older woman once a long time ago, yet I never hear the end of it.” He's surprised Emma's thirty-eight even though he shouldn't be, considering she was the runner-up for Chief of Surgery and obviously has the education, training and experience for the rank. She certainly doesn't look her age though. She looks thirty, maybe thirty-five.

  Elsa laughs. “Oh come on, I'm only teasing. Anyway, Emma's always working. And I mean always. She works at Storybrooke General which is always on alert for major disasters . I hardly ever see her, and we lived together for five years when we were kids. She even missed mine and Liam’s wedding, but to be fair, she was on her way to the chapel when the entire hospital staff got called in. Remember that hundred-car pileup on I-10 the morning of the wedding?”

Killian nods. “Aye, of course I do. Gusty winds and a sudden whiteout caused the semi-truck driver to hit the car in front of him. 120 injuries, two fatalities. And there were multiple lanes closed while the DPS investigated. It was a huge mess.”

  “That’s the one.”

  They live in Central Texas, a region where it rarely snows, but on Liam and Elsa’s big day in early December, no one saw the snowstorm coming.

  “Thankfully, everyone arrived safely at the wedding. I was an emotional wreck as it was,” Elsa says, recalling very vividly how stressed she was that day.

  “It’s a shame Emma couldn’t have been there though.” Killian was the best man at that wedding and happily witnessed his brother exchange vows with the woman of Liam’s dreams.

  She shrugs. “Yes, it was, but she saved several lives that day, so I couldn’t really be mad at her.”

  Killian nods in agreement. He wants to ask more about Emma, but he’s afraid Elsa would be onto his intentions in a heartbeat. So instead they continue their heavy conversation about Liam and how they’ve missed out on so much by being closed off to each other. As far as she or anyone else is concerned, Killian no longer works for the SBPD, nor is he a detective. But even so, Elsa knows the difference between casual chit chat and being interrogated by a cop since she was with one for four years. She knows fairly well how a detective’s mind works. And while Killian investigates Dr. Swan, it’s essential no one finds out, especially Elsa and Anna. The only person outside of SBPD who knows Killian is working on the case is Mary Margaret, but only because David didn’t wish to lie to his wife. 

  “So, what do you say, Elsa? Can we be brother and sister-in-law again?” Killian asks with puppy dog eyes.

  Elsa rises from her chair, opening her arms for him. “Yes, I suppose we can.”

  Killian follows her lead and stands up to hug Elsa. He expels a lengthy sigh of relief as he wraps her up in his arms, both of them expressing through physical closeness what they could never express in words with each other over the last three years—sorrow, regret, guilt, but also forgiveness and appreciation. And as they hug, he counts the seconds, curious to know just how long two people who care about each other platonically would actually hug. He counts eleven seconds before they break it. But those eleven seconds were much needed and a long time coming. Though the length of the hug wasn’t even close to making up for the three years they had missed out on hugs, it was enough. 

  Nevertheless, Killian concludes, two people can share a hug for ten seconds or more without it being romantic. Emma may not have had romantic feelings for Humbert, but she cared for him. And someone who cares a great deal about someone else couldn’t possibly want them dead, especially not over a job promotion.

  “We should’ve done this a long time ago,” Elsa says, another tear spilling down her cheek.

  Killian nods as he lifts his hand to wipe it away with his thumb. “Agreed. Sorry I’ve been a stubborn ass.”

  She shakes her head. “I’m sorry I’ve been an ice queen.”

  He smirks and kisses her forehead. “You’re forgiven.”

  She shoves him playfully in the chest and laughs. “Hey, you’re not supposed to agree with me.”

  “Oof.” He places his hand there, pretending to be wounded. “I mean, you were never an ice queen,” he chuckles. 

  They hear the front door open, and when she heads out of the kitchen, Killian follows behind her, hearing loud chatter and excitement.

  “Uncle Killy!” Camila hurdles toward him like an Olympic sprinter, and Killian chuckles as he scoops his neice into his arms and lifts her up. 

  “Hey, little love, I missed you.”

  “I missed you too,” she says, laying her head on his chest. 

  Killian glances over her to see Elsa and Anna smiling at them.“You were right, she is growing like a weed.”

  Camila suddenly lifts her head up, her eyes wide with excitement. “Uncle Killy, wanna see my flower girl dress?”

  “Of course I do.” He looks over at Elsa and Anna again. “If that’s okay with them of course.”

  Elsa laughs. “Of course it is.” She looks at her daughter. “Camila, let’s take your new clothes upstairs and you can show me what you got first,” she says, grabbing the shopping bags from Anna. 

  After Killian sets his niece down, Elsa takes Camila’s hand in her free one and walks with her upstairs.

  “I see you two finally made up,” Anna comments once Elsa and Camila are out of sight. 

  “Aye we did,” he confirms as they move toward each other. “It was a long time coming. How could you tell?”

  She smiles. “Because of how cheerful she is around you now, instead of being all quiet and broody.”

  He chuckles. “The proper term is Ice Queen.” He points upstairs. “Her words, not mine.”

  “Yep, that pretty much describes it,” she laughs. “So, how have you been?”

  He shrugs. “I’m doing better now that I get to spend more time with my niece and sister-in-law. How about you? Ready for Saturday?”

  She groans and shakes her head. “Is any bride ever ready for their wedding? I mean, yes, I’m ready to get married to Kristoff, but there's still so many things to do and so little time. I needed a break, so I took Camila out for lunch and shopping, but I let her pick everything. I'm sick of making decisions,” she laughs.

  He smiles. “I can imagine.” He scratches behind his ear. “Well, if there’s any way I can help out, I’d be happy to—” 

  “Uncle Killy, look at my dress! Don’t I look like a princess?!”

  Killian looks up to see the prettiest five-year-old he’s ever seen as she bounds down the stairs, her brown curls bouncing around her. She’s wearing a purple, off the shoulder ball gown, embellished with flowers, beads and applique. He smiles and nods. “Aye, little love, it’s a dress fit for a princess.”

  When Camila reaches the bottom of the staircase, she gathers the skirt of her dress in each hand and curtsies. “Thank you.”

  He chuckles. “She’s even mastered the manners perfectly. You’ll make a fine flower girl.” 

  “That was fast,” Anna comments to her sister as she makes her way down the stairs.

  “I know. She was so excited to show Uncle Killy her dress, she wouldn't even show me the clothes you bought her,” she laughs. 

  Killian looks at Elsa with puppy dog eyes, making sure to lay the guilt trip on thick. “It’s just a shame I won’t be at the wedding to see her walk down the aisle in it.” He glances at Anna. “Or to see the bride in her wedding gown.”

  As expected, he witnesses the guilt flashing in Anna’s eyes, and in Elsa’s. 

  “Killian, I wanted to invite you, but—”

  “But Elsa asked you not to?” Killian guesses, ninety-nine percent sure he’s correct.

  Anna looks at her sister. 

  Elsa nods. “I did, but that was before we talked, Killian. I just didn’t want to bring any family drama to my sister’s wedding.”

  He puts up his hand to stop her from continuing. “Say no more, Elsa. I understand, it's fine.”

  “You’re not going, Uncle Killy?” Camila asks, her big blue eyes shining with unshed tears, her bottom lip trembling.

  Killian gives her a sad smile. “I’m afraid I wasn't invited, little love. But I will want pictures. Lots of pictures.” 

  “But why not?” She looks up at her mum. “Mommy, why can't Uncle Killy come to Auntie Anna’s wedding?”

  He glances over at Elsa, who seems to be having a telepathic conversation with her sister.

  He refrains from smirking because, one, he and Liam used to do the same thing when they didn't want anyone to hear their conversation, and two, he knows Anna is caving to Elsa’s unspoken request.

  Anna turns to look at him. “You’re welcome to come to the wedding, Killian.”

  His eyebrows climb his forehead in surprise. “Really?”

  “Yes, we have a couple extra seats available. An old friend of mine from college and her husband flaked out at the last minute.”

  “I don’t have to sit or even eat anything, I just want to be there to watch you get married and to spend time with my niece and sister-in-law.” And meet your aloof cousin who might be a murder suspect.

  “There will be an open bar and buffet at the reception, so there’s no assigned seating. You’ll be able to sit and eat and spend time with family. That is if you can forgive me for not inviting you in the first place.”

  Killian grins and gives Anna a hug. “Okay, I forgive you.”

  “Yay! Uncle Killy’s coming!” Camila chants, jumping up and down and clapping her hands.

  “Thank you, Anna,” he murmurs, kissing her cheek.

  “Of course. You’re still family, Killian. Don’t forget that. Oh, and you get a plus one, so you can bring a date if you'd like.”

  He waves off her words with his hand. “I’m sure Princess Camila will be my date.”

  Elsa furrows her brows. “Princess Camilla? Don’t you mean Duchess? And isn’t she a bit too old, even for you? Not to mention five thousand miles away?”

  Killian shakes his head and chuckles. “I'm not talking about the Duchess of Cornwall, I’m referring to my niece.” He kneels down in front of Camila, taking her hands in his. “Will you do me the honor of being my date to Aunt Anna’s wedding?”

  She giggles and nods. “Yes, I will, Uncle Killy.”

  “Perfect,” he says with a cheeky grin. “Does that mean I get the first dance with the lovely princess?” 

  She nods. “Why yes it does.” 

  He chuckles and scoops her into his arms, picking her up and facing Anna and Elsa. “I don’t need a plus one, I already have a date.”

  “Be careful of her dress,” Elsa chides, eyes wide with concern as she smooths out the skirt of Camila’s dress. “Princess gowns are not cheap.”

  “You mean to tell me Killian Jones can't find a woman his own age to take to my wedding?” Anna teases, hands on her hips. “You have to steal your five-year-old niece?” 

  “Oi, I can get a woman my own age,” he frowns. “Even though it’s not as easy since I was invited at the last minute,” he’s quick to point out, “it’s still doable. But why search for one when I already have the perfect date?”

  Elsa and Anna laugh and shake their heads as Killian sets his niece down on her feet.

  “Why don’t you go up and change out of your dress so you don’t ruin it, Camila. Do you want Mommy’s help?”

  Camila shakes her head. “No, I can do it, Mommy. I promise I’ll be careful.” She lifts the skirt of her dress so she doesn't trip over it and heads upstairs, sad she has to change out of her ballgown.

  “Lay the dress neatly on the bed so it doesn't get wrinkles,” Elsa calls out to her daughter.

  “Okay, Mommy.”

  Camila disappears into her bedroom as the sisters have a conversation among themselves. “Oh, by the way, did I tell you Emma RSVP'd?” Anna asks Elsa.

  Killian's ears perk up at the mention of Emma's name, and he can’t help but listen in on their conversation.

  “No, you didn’t. I’m surprised she’s going considering she lost her colleague recently.”

  Anna gasps, placing a hand on her chest. “Oh my, what happened?”

  “Didn’t you see the news? Dr. Humbert was stabbed to death in the hospital parking lot. The police don't know who did it yet. Did you hear about that, Killian?” Elsa asks him, both of the sisters turning to look at him.

  He shakes his head. “No, I didn’t. I don’t pay much attention to the news anymore.”

  “It was so tragic.”

  “Was he a friend of Emma’s?” Killian inquires casually.

  “Yes, he was. She always mentioned him in conversation when she talked about work. It was always, Graham said this or Graham did that and the story usually ended with us in a fit of giggles.”

  “And they were only friends?” he asks after deciding the question wouldn't be too prying.

  “As far as I know. She never sent me a picture of him indicating otherwise.”

  “Ah, I see,” Killian chuckles, catching her drift. “Emma did that too?”

  “Yeah,” Elsa says with a smile and looks at Anna. “You started it when you were what, fourteen and I was seventeen? Back when we had to use Polaroids to take pictures and send them through AOL messenger. We would send them to Emma in a group chat while she was away at college. But she's only sent us a couple pics of cute guys over the years.”

  “Really? Only a couple?” he asks, leaning against the island counter with his arms crossed. 

  “Yeah, she’s always been too focused on her career to think about boys. I remember she once had a boyfriend when she went to Harvard Medical School, but he broke her heart. She hasn’t dated since then. Or at least that I know of.”

  Killian nods, debating with himself whether he should ask anymore questions about Emma, but he doesn’t want to seem obvious. Besides, he’d rather talk to her himself to find out more about her. Now that he’s going to the wedding and knows for certain she’ll be there, barring any hospital emergencies of course, he’ll get that chance.

  “Like I said, we don’t talk as much anymore.” Elsa turns her head to look at Anna. “It’s nice she’s going to your wedding though.” 

  Anna agrees before her sister heads upstairs to make sure Camila is able to get out of her dress okay. 

  After they return downstairs, Killian spends some time with the three of them before he leaves to return to the motel room the SBPD had paid for after he agreed to help with the case. As soon as he's out the door, he retrieves his phone from his pocket and calls David.

  “I’m on the guest list,” Killian says and also informs him Emma's going to the wedding as well.

  “Excellent. Do you have something to wear?”

  “No, but I’ll pick something up.” Killian curses under his breath as he climbs into his truck, remembering he doesn’t even have a gift for the bride and groom. “I have to get a wedding gift too.”

  David recommends Royal Tuxedo and texts him the link to the bride and groom’s gift registry website.

  “Thanks, mate.”

  “No problem.” David gives Killian some instructions for the wedding and a reminder of how to behave around Elsa and Anna’s cousin, to which Killian rolls his eyes. 

  “I’m always a gentleman,” he claims defensively. “Emma will be in perfectly good hands, trust me.

  “Which is exactly what worries me,” David grumbles. “That brings me to my next friendly reminder…” 

  “Which is?”

  “Keep your dick in your pants.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard what I said.” 

  David’s correct—Killian heard him alright—he just can’t believe David felt he needed to say it. Killian’s a grown man, not a prepubescent child. 

  “Any man with two eyes, a brain and a beating heart can see the doctor is attractive.”

  Killian frowns. “So? I know how to keep it in my pants, even for a pretty blonde doctor, thank you very much. I do that far too often in fact.”

  “I'm serious, Jones. Emma's a suspect, and she might be in cahoots with Cassidy.”

  “Trust me, if she is in cahoots with Cassidy, I won't want anything to do with her personally. She could be bare naked on a bed dripping wet with her legs spread, begging for me and I still wouldn't touch her with a ten-foot pole.” Okay that's a lie. He might touch her just once with his pole. Or twice, because gods, if she were spread out on the bed begging for him, how could he resist her? 

  He has to think about something else to prevent his pole from getting hard at the image he implanted in his own mind. 

  Too late. 

  He shifts in his seat, repositioning himself when an unbidden groan slips out. 

  Bloody hell.

  “Did you just groan?”

  “No, it was a grunt, expressing my hatred for Cassidy.” Killian's statement may not be the entire truth, but he does harbor much hatred for Cassidy. “I want that bastard, David, and I'm not about to let him slip through my fingers by getting my rocks off with a pretty blonde, okay? I’ll do whatever it takes to get him.” 

  “Which is the second way this could go terribly wrong for us,” David murmurs, far from reassured by Killian's statement. “Don’t turn this into a personal vendetta.” 

  “If you're that worried I might screw this up, then why did you come to me asking for my help?” Killian questions, his words laced with irritation. 

  David raises his voice. “You already know why I asked for your help. Just don't make me sorry I did.”

  Killian hangs up and tosses his phone into the passenger seat before peeling out of Elsa’s driveway cursing to himself. As angry he is, he knows David has good reason for worrying. While Nolan has always been the level headed detective who plays by the rules, Killian is the rebel who has a careless approach to regulations and often lets his emotions take the lead. But still, he has another shot at getting that bastard and he’s not about to screw this one up.

  Cassidy will rue the day he met Killian Jones; he'll make sure of it. Even if it's the last he ever does.

Tagging some people who have shown interest so far. If you would like to be tagged or untagged, please let me know.

@itsfabianadocarmo​ @snowbellewells​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @nikkiemms​ @teamhook​ @xhookswenchx​ @nikkiemms​ @xsajx​ @julesep3026​ @hookedmom​ @biefaless​ @cluttermind​ @yasbio2015​ @kmomof4​ @lfh1226-linda​ @harshini01 @noensnaringnet​ @xarandomdreamx @onceuponaprincessworld​ @annastasiarinaldiva​ @royalswan​ @brustudyblog​ @officerrogers​ @gingerchangeling​ @melly326​ @singersdd @mzbossyboots​ @unworried-corsair​ @iamemmaswanjones​ @authorarsinoe​ @kingofmyheart14​ @nightskylover​ @jamif​ @resident-of-storybrooke​​ @iam2307​​ @winterbaby89​​ @chinawoodfan​ @mormonkryptonite @ultraluckycatnd​ @captainswan-shipper88​ @killianswanjones @bethdacattfm @andiirivera​

[athenaquinn]

People Like Us || Ariana & Athena

TIMING: Current (tonight) PARTIES: @letsbenditlikebennett and @athenaquinn SUMMARY: Making good on an honesty agreement means sharing everything. CONTENT: Internalized homophobia (brief mention)

She’d fallen into a routine since she’d started staying with Ariana. What she’d figured would have been days had quickly turned to weeks, and now that she knew about the promise and had the name of the fae, it seemed critical to stay close-by. If for nothing else than to help keep Ariana safe. Athena had busied herself with baking something - because that was the best way she could keep her mind sane, keep her mind off of everything else. Everything else including not only the impending hunt that she’d have to do, regardless of whatever they found out. That much she couldn’t shake.

In the weeks since her parents had died - died, been killed, still pending investigation - she’d come to realize that she was more able to breathe than she ever had been before. Been able to be more honest to herself, no matter how unnerving it was at times. Athena knew that she owed it to Ariana to always be honest, and she supposed that such honesty included new moments of self-discovery. She knew that Ariana was coming home soon and pulled the snickerdoodle cookies out of the oven, breathing in their warm scent. She heard the door open just as she finished putting the last of the cookies onto the baking sheet, removing her apron and giving a small wave to Ariana. “Hey,” she began, giving another wave. You don’t have to be shy, you two are always honest. She wouldn’t judge you for this if she hasn’t judged you for being a hunter. “I made cookies. I - also, if you’ve got the time, I’d love - I have something I’d like to ask you about?”

Before she even opened the door, Ariana could smell the cinnamon from the fresh baked cookies from the hallway. There always seemed to be some sort of treat in the apartment with Athena around and she found herself growing very used to her presence. It was nice coming home to her and being able to share her day with someone. There was a slight presence of confusion that she’d mostly chosen to ignore because right now her friend needed her and vice versa. She took in a deep breath as she opened the door and smiled as she walked in. She returned Athena’s wave and said, “It smells amazing in here.” She peered over the counter and saw cookies cooling. She set her backpack down on the barstool and joked, “You know, I’m starting to get used to this whole having fresh baked goods in the apartment all the time. You’re not going to be able to stop baking now.”

At the mention of wanting to talk about something, Ariana perked up a little bit and nodded. Though she was concerned considering how their luck had been lately, she’d always listen. “Of course, we can talk about whatever you’d like,” she said as she made her way toward the couch. She plopped down in her normal spot near the window and patted the seat next to her so Athena would join her. She lightly pat Luna’s head as it ended up in her lap almost on cue and looked to her friend. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

“Snickerdoodles are incredible in that way.” Athena shrugged for a moment. She was grateful that she hadn’t had to spend time alone - and even though she knew that she could have stayed at her sorority house, this felt nicer. Though she used to consider herself very much someone who liked to be the center of attention, being tucked away was almost comforting. “Well, I like baking, so that’s okay by me. I may have to broaden my range of items, wouldn’t want you getting bored of them.”

Ariana always looked so kind, so comforting, so willing to do anything for her. For anyone, really. Back when they’d first met, it was something that had drawn Athena to her - admittedly odd, the pureness of Ariana’s heart and how eager she was about the world, but there hadn’t been any true reason to question any of that, because perhaps knowing someone so good wasn’t so bad, after all. She didn’t know why what she wanted to tell Ariana now was making her freeze up. Perhaps because even she wasn’t sure it was real. Her parents would have vehemently denied it much like they’d denied any hint of such a reality with her brother. For the very reason that while she’d been able to pick out bits and pieces of that truth with him, he’d never said it to their parents. Which was why every time she had any sort of inkling she’d pushed it away. However, as she’d learned in the case of who her parents truly were, denial didn’t always work so well. “Okay.” She walked over, bare feet on the cold floor, and sat next to Ariana, curling her legs up around herself. “It’s - no, it’s not bad. Or, I mean… I thought it was. I thought it - it’s not bad. I hope you don’t see it that way.” Ariana wouldn’t. She’d asked a girl to prom, that much Athena knew. “It’s, well… I’ve done a lot of self-reflecting these past few weeks, and I’d love to be able to tell you more about something I’ve come to… terms with? That sounds harsh but…” she trailed off, fingertips running against her golden ring. The silver ones were long forgotten, at least in the walls of the apartment. “Is that okay?”

“You and the snickerdoodles both. It wouldn’t smell this good in here without the amazing baker,” Ariana said brightly with a small smirk on her face. There was something that felt natural about all of this that she was choosing to ride into. With everything else going on, these moments they shared had become a bright spot in her daily life. She knew it had far less to do with the baking itself than the person doing said baking. Something about Athena’s presence made her feel safe and less alone even if they’d both been through hell these past few weeks. Her head did a slight tilt as she spoke.  “As long as I get to enjoy whatever you make with you, I doubt I’ll ever get bored.”

It seemed Athena was a bit nervous about whatever she had to share, so Ariana reached over and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “There’s not anything you could tell me that’d make me think any less of you. We may not agree on everything, but we’re honest with each other and respect each other, I’ll always follow through on that, okay?” As much as she racked her brain, she couldn’t think of what Athena could possibly be coming to terms with. She always seemed so sure of herself though in a way, she seemed a bit softer after the death of her parents. It hadn’t seemed to greatly change her outlook on hunting and Ariana doubted this had anything to do with that. She grew curious though. Whatever part of herself that Athena was opening up to share with her, she’d cherish it. She looked to Athena, ready to listen to whatever it is she was about to tell her and answered, “Of course it’s okay. You can always tell me anything, Athena.”

“That is fair, we come as a certified package deal.” Athena bit her lip. This was all supposed to be easy - this was all casual and calm, and though there was still a certain heaviness that still hung onto her words. That shouldn’t have been the case and yet here she was, still lamenting over something that had finally enabled her to be herself more than she’d ever been. She grinned over at Ariana. “Well, though sweets are still not my favorite thing to consume, I think I find you a worthy sort of exception to make. Besides, when something smells so good, how can I refuse?”

She played with the ends of her hair, debating on how she could best tell her friend. The one person in the world who she felt closest to, other than her actual twin brother. Athena nodded. “You say that. I just - this is complicated. It’s something I should have realized before, but it’s - it’s not like before.” Like with my parents. “I think, if anything, being more level-headed and able to think on my own helped me come to terms with it?” It seemed more obvious that she wanted to admit, signs that she should have picked up on years ago, like how she always wanted to stay after class in eighth grade to talk to Ms. Flynn and how she’d felt weird when Betsy had wanted to go as friends to Homecoming with another girl on the soccer team and not with Athena. “Okay.” She began. “Okay.” She repeated herself. Let her hands find Ariana’s once again. “I - well, so my parents never really were big believers on anything but the whole ‘a man and a woman are what make a relationship and what make marriage’, and I prescribed to that for myself, at least, for so long - I was fine about others loving who they wanted to love, but I think - I am saying too much for this.” She looked down at their hands, then back up. “I think that I mean, I like boys, I do, that was never a falsehood, but I think that I might like girls at least as much, if not more. I just never really let myself acknowledge that. Until recently.” She puckered her lips to the side. “Is that - that’s what I wanted to say, and I trust you and we’ve agreed to be honest, so I thought you should be the first one who I told. Ri doesn’t even know.”

It was hard to fight the smile on her face as Athena mentioned she was worth an exception. There was something about it that left Ariana with a warm feeling she couldn’t quite explain. Even through the difficulties, she found getting through her day to day life was a bit easier with Athena here. Whatever it was that Athena had to tell her, she knew she’d be able to accept it. What was most important was that they continued their pact of being honest with each other and part of that included reserving judgment. Her head tilted to the side as Athena spoke as she looked to her features to find some sort of indication of what this revelation would be. She ended up shaking her head. “We realize things when we’re ready, too. Whatever it is, you’ve figured it out in your own time and that’s okay?” Was this some sort of hunting thing? She’d like to think she at least had some sort of outlook of her own on that considering Athena would never hurt her. It had to be something else though she couldn’t place what.

As Athena went on about the whole man and woman thing, the dots connected themselves in her mind. Ariana had her suspicions before but had chalked them entirely up to wishful thinking. Maybe slightly chalked it up to how much Athena loved Alex Morgan, too, but that was more speculative than anything else. Now, she was here speaking her truth and Ariana couldn’t be happier for her. From what she gathered, she hadn’t had all that much freedom in her parents home and she knew her friend deserved to live her truth. She gave Athena’s hands a squeeze as they found their way to hers as a reminder that she wasn’t in this alone and that she never had to be. “So you’re bisexual then,” she said easily and looked to Athena hoping her eyes conveyed the support she was going for. “I’m glad you feel comfortable admitting it. To me is a good start. You know I’ll never judge you for anything, especially not that. I mean, I think you already know I am, too.” There was a small part of her mind that she simply couldn’t quiet though. She’d told Athena before how she felt and it had been overshadowed by everything else she revealed. She couldn’t help but wonder if maybe she helped her reach this realization. It felt a bit selfish, but she had to ask. “Can I ask what made you come to this realization? If not, it’s okay. I’m just glad you felt safe coming to me with this.”

“I mean, I used to think I had my whole life planned out, that I understood exactly how I was going to live the rest of my days even when I was four years old. Which is obviously not super logical at all, but it was who I was as a kid.” Athena scrunched her nose up. “Which I doubt comes as any sort of surprise to you. Obviously also my life has not turned out just as four-year-old Athena thought it would.” She could breathe easier here, though, and even though she couldn’t help but worry that she was doing something wrong or committing some sort of horrendous act. Which wasn’t true, and she reminded herself that she’d never thought lesser of anyone else who wasn’t straight, and yet she’d believed that she had to be.

Ariana was being kind and supportive because - because she was Ariana and that was what she did. That was who she was, wholly and completely. She was too good, too kind and warm and better than anyone - especially Athena - deserved. You do deserve love, she had to remind herself. Had to repeat it, almost like a mantra, because the idea of having people who cared for her properly and genuinely wasn’t something she was used to. Love without other obligations. “Yes.” She smiled carefully, looking over to Ariana. “Of course. That’s part of why I feel like I can be open about this with you, and why I wanted to tell you, more explicitly. I wanted to. There’s no obligation, there never has been, not with you.” Everything was easy between the two of them, so much so that even something that made Athena feel as confused and unsure as this did was easier with Ariana around. “You can - of course.” She squeezed Ariana’s hand. “I mean, I think I’ve known for a while now, but I wasn’t able to put it into words. Able or willing to, I suppose.” She sucked in her lower lip for a moment. “You helped, too. I - you told me about the crush way back when and -” she steadied her breath. “I don’t know, it felt sort of nice. Actually really nice. It made me confused because - well, the idea of a girl liking me felt good, and what was I supposed to do with that?” She bit her lip. “So turns out you’ve helped me figure out a whole lot of things. You are quite extraordinary and - is that okay? You asked, and we did agree to be honest, and I also am a firm believer of credit where credit is due, and you certainly deserve credit for this.”

“Not at all a surprise, but it’s okay if things don’t go as planned. We can plan all we want. Sometimes the world still has other plans for us,” Ariana noted with a soft grin on her features. She let her arm rest on the back of the couch and watched her friend. It always amazed her just how put together and organized she was. It was such a contrast to how Ariana navigated her own life, but she found she admired her all the more for it. That sense of awe only seemed to strengthen as she confirmed she was in fact bisexual. It wasn’t part of her life plan or what her parents deemed was okay for her, but she was exploring that part of herself anyway. Ariana had personally always been lucky to have Celeste who accepted her without conditions. It was brave for Athena to come out despite not having had that kind of acceptance in her life before. Her lips twitched upward and her eyes stayed on Athena. “I’m glad you’re learning to accept this part of yourself and that you feel comfortable enough to tell me about it. And you’re right about the obligation thing, I’d never want you to be anything but yourself with me.”

While honesty was their thing, Ariana knew this current show of it required Athena to be more open with herself than she had been previously. Something about the way it was explained that she helped Athena come to this realization made her heart flutter in her chest. It was a light feeling that made her tilt her head slightly as she listened and tried to piece together just what she’d meant by it. “That makes sense,” she said slowly before joking, “Straight girls don’t typically like Alex Morgan as much as you do.” She used the hand from the arm she wasn’t leaning on to playfully nudge Athena and found she didn’t want to pull her hand away. When Athena hadn’t mentioned the whole crush thing again, she’d made the choice to push those feelings aside despite the occasional flirtatious remark. Now, she didn’t quite feel the need to now that she knew Athena thought it felt nice knowing she liked her. There was only one way of knowing for sure. She’d never been one to beat around the bush, so she simply asked. “Does it still feel nice? I respect you and value our friendship, so I’ve tried not to think about that too much, but it sounds like you might feel the same way. It’s okay if you don’t, you’re more important to me than that. If you do though, well…” A mischievous smirk crossed her face which served to convey the fact she was in fact being suggestive while also keeping things light-hearted. She could tell Athena was still nervous as she spoke and the way she bit her lip was endearing. She placed a hand on her shoulder and said, “Of course, it’s okay. I’m glad I could help with this. More importantly, I’ll never fault you for being honest with me, even if it’s on something we don’t see eye to eye on.”

“So I have recently learned.” Athena replied, raising an eyebrow. It was overwhelming, having things not all go to plan, and she did find that she felt more confused and lost recently than she had in the past, but having those who she knew she could trust, even if that number was small, meant that she was able to feel more stable than she knew she might have otherwise been able to feel. “I am working on it. It is a continuous process, but it is one I think is worth exploring - worth making myself as self-aware as I am able to be, even if parts of it are difficult to accept because I was so taught to see them as wrong, and I like to be without faults as much as possible. Which I - I know some of what I do is faulted by others, but at least within my own world I wanted to be without faults of any sort.” She pressed her knees together again, the pressure comforting and affirming before she looked back at Ariana.

“Okay, fine, that is fair and she might have been someone who I admire for more than just her skills on the field - though regardless of whether or not I am attracted to her I do admire her for all she has done for women’s soccer.” Athena grinned at Ariana’s nudge. It was a good sign, that they were so easily able to maintain the same easy back-and-forth conversations and actions that they had shared ever since they had gotten to know one another. Then Ariana was asking her more questions and Athena could, for a brief moment, feel herself freeze up again. Whatever she answered would be okay, and here Ariana was confirming that - here she was, proving that she didn’t deserve someone like Athena feeling nice about her having a crush on her. “It does.” She found herself saying before she could stop. “It - well, I don’t think it stopped feeling nice, even if it was confusing - and I mean, you are one of my best friends first and foremost, and I am so grateful for that above all else but…” her voice trailed off. “I do.” She let her own lips curve upwards to match Ariana’s smirk with one of her own, shifting herself a bit closer, not wanting to move away. It seemed as though her friend felt similarly, with the shift of her hand to her shoulder. “I feel the same way about you. Again.” Everything that Ariana was seemed to continuously surprise Athena in the very best way possible, and though she knew that there were undoubtedly things that the two of them would not ever quite see eye-to-eye on, Ariana was one of the most open and accepting people she’d ever met in her life. “We do work quite well that way.” She let her gaze fall onto Ariana’s lips for a small moment before looking back up. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

It didn’t come as a shock to Ariana that Athena preferred to be without fault. Almost every single thing she did showed her perfectionist tendencies. While it was something she admired about her friend, Ari felt it was important that she knew it wasn’t always expected of her. Everyone had faults and made mistakes. That was simply part of life and it was important Athena knew that she had freedom to make those errors, especially with her. She’d always do her best to show Athena the same understanding she showed her. “I do understand that. Your determination to strive toward perfection is something I admire about you very much, but that doesn’t change the fact you’re allowed to make mistakes or have faults whether they be by someone else’s standards are your own. You may be Super Girl, but you don’t have to be perfect. No one is.”

“Oh, for sure. Alex Morgan kicks ass and is totally a great role model. Still, doesn’t change the fact you think she’s hot,” Ariana joked playfully and felt more at ease than she had in months. There was no hiding how wide her smile grew when Athena said she felt the same way. Ariana had her suspicions, but she never truly wanted to push it, especially not after what Athena had been through. Just as she hoped, Athena brought it up in her own time. While their friendship came first, she couldn’t help but feel elated that Athena liked her, too. “Well, good,” she said in a cheery tone that gave way to just how good it really made her feel, “You’ll always be one of my best friends first, but… It is nice that you feel the same. I mean, who wouldn’t be happy to know that you like them? You’re kind of amazing.” The way Athena’s eyes lingered on her lips wasn’t lost on her. It in fact sent another weird flutter through her that was hard to explain. She found her own eyes watching Athena, taking in the moment. There was something about the way she held herself that Ariana found captivating. Even in this moment of being unsure, she still seemed more self assured than most people she’d met. “We do,” was all she managed to get out with a short nod before she extended her hand towards Athena, letting it run through her hair before she leaned forward and placed a kiss on Athena’s lips. The confirmation Athena felt the same was all she needed to push her forward. She could vaguely smell and taste the cinnamon from baking on her and found her to be impossibly soft in a way you wouldn’t quite expect from someone who always had knives on her person. It felt almost as if she was floating in that moment and lingered before pulling away. Her eyes remained on Athena and tried to gauge just what she was feeling. Wanting to be sure she hadn’t crossed a line, she asked, “Was that okay?”

“Well, that’s all part of learning, I think. My parents put a lot on me - both academics-wise, hunting-wise, and general life-wise. I do not want to talk about them - I am done with that - but it was something I was always eager to fall into because I wanted to please them and because, well, I like being the best at everything I can be.” Athena nodded, not wanting to say too much all at once, but wanting to explain everything that she could. Now that she was able to start to figure out her own thoughts - though those of her parents still got too much in the way too often - she sometimes felt as though she was overflowing, and she knew that she’d share this with her brother eventually, but for the time being, the person she wanted to share it with most was Ariana.

“Yeah, well, she’s really nice to look at, what can I say?” She grinned. “It’s unfair, really, but I’m also not opposed. We should watch one of her games with her temporary new team again sometime.” Athena continued to watch Ariana carefully, observing her every movement, the way she started to smile more as Athena continued to explain herself, the way she seemed more self-assured (which was a darn good look on her, if Athena had anything to say about it). “You’ll always be one of my best friends, too - truly. There’s nobody, not even some of my closest friends from high school and college, who I trust as much as I trust you and my brother, and there’s some things - like this, even - that I feel safer telling you about first because of how open we’ve been from the very start of this all. From the moment we met, even though I know it technically took us a bit of time to actually share all the details we have, we’re doing pretty good on that front if I do say so myself.” She felt her cheeks grow pink. “Well, thanks, and I know I am, but so are you. I’ve said this many times, but you’re someone to be admired, Ariana - really and truly.” Then she felt Ariana’s hand running through her hair - like it had done so many times before - yet this time felt different - and then Ariana’s lips were on her own and they felt incredibly warm and safe and soft. It was different, a sense of calm that came along with the kiss rather than any sort of frantic rush. Calm in the best way, though she supposed that she shouldn’t have been at all surprised by that, given that Ariana was a great source of calm for her in all situations. “It was more than okay.” She whispered before shifting closer to Ariana again, letting her hand find her waist as she kissed her back, breathing in the smell of lemongrass and of Ariana’s shampoo. She broke away for a small moment before pressing another, brief kiss against her lips. “Absolutely, fantastically more than okay.” She felt her cheeks growing hot. “Hope I live up to expectations - not that - I just - hope I was good.” She glanced down at her hands, her lips still firmly in a smile.

“Making mistakes is part of learning, that’s true. I just want you to know I don’t expect you to be perfect. I know I joke and call you Super Girl, but I do know you’re a real person who is always trying her best and I think that’s amazing,” Ariana assured her and avoided speaking of her parents more. She knew Athena didn’t want to talk about them anymore and she respected that. There were often times she found herself exhausted from talking about the bad things she’d been through. Carving out a space that was safe for Athena was important for her and she knew that meant talking about things as she was ready to. It was something Ariana was more than willing to provide though she found she couldn’t quite take her eyes off Athena. Somehow, the more she learned about her, the more fascinated Ariana found herself becoming. She possessed so much strength and discipline and wielded it in such a way that always seemed to leave Ariana captivated with her. Even as she leaned against the back of the sofa, she couldn’t quite pull her eyes away from Athena. With a small laugh, she responded, “You and Alex Morgan share that feature. I may be a bit biased, but I think you’re better to look at. Even so, I’d still love to watch another match with you.”

The smile on her face wasn’t disappearing any time soon and Ariana wouldn’t have it any other way. For so long, everything had felt so dark that she found this to be such a welcome change. In general, having Athena here had made things easier, but this was different. She felt a sense of happiness that wasn’t quite familiar to her. It was new to her in the best of ways and she kept her gaze on Athena as she spoke with her hand comfortably in hers again. “The same goes for you,” she said softly as her thumb drew patterns on Athena’s palm, “I trust you, too. I know it took time to build up our whole honesty pact, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Especially lately, I know there’s nothing I can’t come to you with. I’m glad I can be that person for you, too. You deserve someone you feel safe talking to and it means so much to me I can be that person for you.” The smile on her face remained and somehow continued to grow as Athena noted she was someone worth admiring. Coming from her, it meant the world to Ariana. A sense of warmth flooded over her as it was confirmed her kiss was okay and before she knew it, Athena's lips were on hers again. It was easy to lose herself in the moment as one hand found Athena’s hair again and the other rested on her waist as she leaned closer to her. Something about being this close to Athena made her feel safer than she had in months. It was what had been helping her sleep these past few weeks, but this was different. There was a certain sense of peace that came with the feeling of Athena’s lips on hers that was better than anything she could have imagined. It was a perfect moment that she’d happily play on repeat given the chance. She found herself missing the feeling the moment there was space between them again, but she let her eyes flutter open and watch as she spoke. “Fantastically okay, I can live with that,” she said happily. The slight flush in Athena’s cheeks was endearing and she answered, “Hmm, you know, I’m not sure. I think I’ll have to try again just to be sure.” She placed another short but sweet kiss on Athena’s lips for good measure and looked back at her. “I can confirm you beat expectations. Though I think I may need a reminder of that every once and awhile, you know, just to be sure.”

“I mean, not that I’m always perfect. I am a real person but I also do still love that nickname and strive to live up to it as much as I am able.” Athena sighed. “I do try my best, you do have that right.” She wasn’t sure what she had done to deserve someone like Ariana in her life, despite the fact that most of the other people she spent time with would do even worse than chastise her for it, but she still didn’t consider herself entirely deserving of being in the company of someone who was so purely so good. “Well, lucky for you I don’t think I’m going anywhere anytime soon, so…” she trailed off, letting a small, playful smirk cross her lips. “Good. We’ll watch one soon. I mean, I also think that you might give her a run for her money in terms of soccer players who I like to look at. Besides, you’re much closer by and I actually know you, so you’ve got some pluses in your book that I don’t know if she’ll ever measure up to.”

She had felt safe and comfortable being here in Ariana’s apartment, but with everything that they were sharing right now she felt even more safe and welcomed than she’d ever felt anywhere. Even though Athena had been given everything that she assumed she wanted, her bedroom decorated and full to the brim with clothing and books and, when she was younger, toys - it was different than the situation she found herself in now. Being around someone who knew everything about her and who’d welcomed her for one evening - an evening that had turned into multiple weeks now and Athena found that she wasn’t especially keen to have it change anytime soon. “I wouldn’t trade it for the world. You’re one of the only people I can actually be myself around, regardless of whatever sort of unexpected or ironic sort of deal that might imply. Or whatever… my point is, I’m glad to have you and glad we ended up where we are.” The movements of Ariana’s fingers against her palm served to calm her once again. “You are the person I feel safest around, full stop. I trust you completely and entirely,” and my trust doesn’t come easily, was left unspoken, left unsaid but she knew that Ariana understood that she didn’t give away her trust so very easily or simply. “Good, or else I might have to come up with other horribly cheesy combinations of adjectives which might just undo my entire reputation. You’d be worth it, though.” She liked the feeling of Ariana’s hand on her own waist too, the confirmation that she was safe and that she wasn’t all alone. Then Ariana was kissing her again, and it was brief and soft and she found that she longed for more right at that moment. “I…” she began, her cheeks only growing pinker. “Yes. I think I would be more than okay with reminding you of that as often as you see fit.” She moved forward again, pressing her lips softly against Ariana’s, breathing against them, before she broke away once more. “I do very much like to confirm things.” She ran her fingers along her lips. “We can do this a lot. I - honestly? These are some of the best kisses that I’ve had.” She raised an eyebrow. “There we go with our honesty again, huh?”

“You do live up to it,” Ariana said simply as she meant it wholeheartedly. There was a reason she had chosen the nickname for her. This whole moment still felt a little surreal to her. She hadn’t necessarily expected anything months ago when she told Athena about her crush, but here they were now and she found she couldn’t imagine it any other way now. There was a certain sense of ease that came with all of this, as if it was just the way things were supposed to be for them. She found her hand seemed to fit perfectly in Athena’s and being close to her just felt right. Now it seemed she was even above Alex Morgan in Athena’s book which only served to make her smile widen and her cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink. “Well, as far as I’m concerned, you’re my favorite soccer player to look at. I know that’s a high compliment coming from you.”

Even though the circumstances that brought them to this moment weren’t the best, Ariana couldn’t help but find she was glad they made it to this moment. Something about Athena’s presence made it feel more like home which was a feeling the place had been lacking. They’d fallen into a sort of routine that felt comfortable for her in ways she hadn’t quite expected. The moments they were sharing now only furthered that feeling. She’d already enjoyed falling asleep with Athena by her side, but now she imagined it could only get better. Her hand remained comfortably on Athena’s waist as she spoke and she looked at her earnestly, “It makes me so happy I can be that person for you and I’m happy we’ve ended up where we are, too. I know I can be myself with you, too.” Despite everything her parents taught her, Athena was still able to see her for who she was rather than what she was. With the own troubles Ariana found herself facing, she also knew she could count on Athena to be by her side. It made her feel invincible where she had previously felt small, as if there was nothing the two of them couldn’t face down. “I feel safe with you, too. I don’t want to touch on the things that make us upset while we’re having such a nice moment, but really, I mean that. Having you here, I’ve been able to relax and actually get a decent night’s sleep.” The smile didn’t leave her face as Athena spoke again. She found herself never fully leaning away. Now that she was so close to her, she didn’t want to stop. “I’m okay with cheesy. Don’t worry, I won’t tell everyone and ruin your reputation as a badass,” she joked and found herself pulled into another kiss. This was something she could get used to. The grin never left her lips even as Athena pulled away. “Good,” she said, “Because I think I’d like to do this as often as possible.” With that, she found herself being drawn to Athena again as if there was some sort of magnet between them. This time, she found herself unable to pull away and simply let herself get lost in a moment she deemed perfect.

[i-believe-in-soriku]

Arabian Nights

It was a very hot night in Agrabah. Riku and Sora were there on a mission. They had been staying at the Sultan's Palace, Jasmine's father and Aladdin's father-in-law since he had married the Princess. Riku couldn't sleep. He was used to hot temperatures, but that was something else. He was looking at the city skyline out of his bedroom window when he heard a knock at his door. He had no doubt about the identity of his visitor: only Sora would have the idea of ​​coming to see him at such an hour. So he told him to come in. Sora approached him with a bit of shame on his face.

"I can't sleep."

“Looks like this town has this effect over people”, joked Riku.

“I don't think that's the reason.”

 Riku raised an eyebrow.

 “You had a nightmare? Or have you got a problem?”

“No, it's just that I'm thinking too much”, said Sora evasively.

 He sprawled on Riku's bed without hesitation. Riku decided to put himself on the edge of his window to make room for Sora. He understood that Sora needed to speak, so he might as well put him at ease. But Sora didn't seem to be able to find the words to express his torment. So Riku tried to help him.

 “So, what do you think of that prevents you from sleeping?” he asked him nicely.

“I... don't really know. I just... can't sort things out. I just thought you could help me. I... I'm lost.”

 Riku smiled when he heard that. Sora always seemed to think that he gived the best advice. He knew that the fact that he was a year older gave him a little more experience, but he didn't understand what he had done to deserve such an honor. Anyway, he had to do his best to deserve this faith.

 “I see what it feels like to be lost. It has happened to me... often.”

He added inside his mind, I didn't think it could happen to you. Sora wasn’t the kind of person whom makes things complicated. But he knew very well that sometimes things could get confused without you realizing it.

 “Don't complicate things to much, Sora. You’ll see things clearly if you allow yourself to take some time.”

It couldn't be truer. Riku had experienced it: it had taken him years to put the right words on the feelings that boiled in him.

 “How do you do?” articulated Sora. “I mean, to have so much confidence in you?”

 Confidence in me? thought Riku. Sora really though he was confident? He pondered about it, a little surprised. He had indeed managed to achieve a certain balance. He had gradually opened up to others, even if it was still far from perfect, especially when it came to Sora. He had learned his limits, and thanks to Sora and his friends, he understood that he was loved and that he mattered to those around him. This observation made him grin. 

 “Well… It was difficult”, he finally replied. “I had to admit to myself things that were... hard to swallow. I had to face the darkest part of me. And having someone who counts on me and who cares for me helped me, too”, he finished, looking Sora in the eyes.

Sora smiled and put his hands behind his head, like when he was showing off. Riku still saw that his compliment had touched him.

 “But you know, Sora, sometimes I doubt. Everybody does. It’s normal, especially when things change, or when we grow up… Stuff like that.”

 “Really? You doubt? inquired Sora, curious. “Say, you don’t continue to depreciate yourself, do you?”

Riku looked up at the ceiling, amused by the vehemence with whiich Sora had said that.

 “Not now. I’m not saying it won’t ever happen again, but that’s not it.”

“Then what?”

 Riku found Sora a little prying, but since he was his best friend, he was probably expecting an answer. Actually, Riku didn't care too much about revealing these things to Sora, who would never use it against him.

 “About my abilities, my judgment, my feelings ... I doubt about lots of things.”

Sora sat up to listen to him, obviously very interested in his answers. However, the older of the two didn’t feel like saying something fascinating. He hoped that Sora’s problems weren't too big.

No... if he was honest with himself, he hoped that Sora doubted something in particular, which would explain why it was towards him that he had turned rather than towards someone else.

 “And…when you doubt, let’s say, your feelings, what do you do?” muttured Sora.

 Riku could no longer ignore the fact that his heart was racing. Sora was talking to him about feelings. Should he have hope or was he wrong? He no longer knew what to think. He did his best to keep a cool head to assist his friend, but it was hard not to let the feverishness that took hold of him show through.

 “Listen, Sora. It depends what kind of feelings you talk about. Either way, the best thing is to put it simply, as it comes to you. Whether to yourself or...”

He couldn't finish his sentence, but Sora slowly nodded.

“I know I'm not the type to think a lot, but there, I don't know how to do it. Because ... it's not easy to sort, so to ... to make it simple ... I don't know how to do it.”

 Riku raised his hand to interrupt the flow of confused words that sprang from Sora's mouth. He got up and slid onto the bed to sit next to him. He had to make sure of his suspicions. But he also had to stay calm, for Sora. He turned to face Sora while standing next to him and Sora followed suit.

 “Maybe I can help, if you trust me.”

"Of course I trust you! But how-”

 Sora was silent when Riku, his heart pounding, plunged his eyes into his. Riku had always been fascinated by the blue of Sora's eyes, although he knew lots of blue-eyed people. Those of Sora were big, gentle, playful. He had long eyelashes that made him look innocent. Right now, he could read confusion and embarrassment inside. Still, Sora returned his gaze. He let the moment last, and finally asked him:

 “Tell me what you feel. Simply.”

Sora remained silent. He looked… shaken.

“Does it embarrass you?” helped Riku.

��Y-Yeah, but...”

Riku couldn't help but smirk. He leaned over so that his shoulder hit Sora's to tease him.

 “I know. You wanna hide.”

"Y-Yeah, but...”

"You want it to last”, asserted Riku. 

Sora opened his eyes wide and stared at him while flushing slightly. 

“How-”

“I know that because it’s the same for me.”

He added very quickly, so as not to lose self-confidence:

"It’s the kind of things I feel when I see your stupid grin.” 

Sora opened his mouth but nothing came out. Riku had to turn his head briefly so as not to get carried away in his turn by the embarrassment. Then he looked back at his friend, who finally dared to smile at him.

 “Yes, that one!”

Sora pricked a blush - frankly, this time - and Riku felt he himself must be that red. However, now that he was launched... it was easier. Probably because it was Sora, and being with Sora always ended up relaxing him, even when that guy was uncomfortable.

 “See, I said things simply. Your turn.”

Sora reflected. Riku noticed that his shoulders had relaxed, as if released from a weight.

 “Well... I like being by your side. And I really admire you.”

He had insisted on this last point, he wasn’t dreaming. Without realizing it, he leaned over to hear him better. 

 “Same goes for me. I feel special when I’m with you”, confided Riku.

"You are!” exclaimed Sora.

Riku could have collapsed just by hearing these words, they were so soft in his ears. His doubts were gone and he no longer cared about being careful, not when Sora was so outspoken and adorable with him.

 “I just want to be with you”, he whispered. 

He realized the ambiguity of his sentence after saying it. Maybe he was being  too direct, because his friend looked confused. But Sora went back to staring. His eyes stooped slightly for a fraction of a second - had Sora just looked at his lips? The young boy began to speak, his voice trembling:

"I... I want...”

“I know”, Riku interrupted in a breath. “I want the same.”

Sora looked dubious, as if he thought Riku misinterpreted his thoughts. Riku then decided that he should make it clear, not in words. He had to act.

He turned a little closer to Sora, and tenderly put his right hand on his cheek. It was hot under his fingers, and soft. He allowed himself to look at Sora with all the love he felt for him - why pretend now?

He didn’t expect Sora to mimic his movements, placing his own hand on his left cheek. The contact was so light, so tender, that Riku huffed. He put his free hand on Sora's and gently squeezed it without removing it. He kept his eyes closed for a few seconds to fully feel this touch. They stayed that way until Riku finally lowered his head. He wasn't embarrassed, but it was ... a lot to deal with at once. He kept his hand in Sora's.

He took a deep breath and faced Sora again. Then he simply said, a big smile on his lips:

"I love you.”

He had to tell him. He was the one who told him to say things as they came to him.

"Me too”, he sighed. “I... love you too.”

Riku's smile widened when he repeated for the third time that night:

"I know.”

And it was wonderful to be able to associate these words with the fact that Sora loved him. An hour before that was not the case, but now everything was clear. Sora laughed - this warmed Riku's heart - and he pulled Riku to him to take him in his arms.They stayed like that all night, Sora huddled on Riku, exchanging anecdotes as if nothing had happened.

Riku had never been that happy to have insomnia in his life.

___________________♡♡♡___________________

I post it sooner than expected for all the people that told me nice things eheh~

This one looks like Passion but not exactly. Like I said I like to imagine several ways for them to confess their love. And I just can't fix myself about one way or the other 😂 so I just keep on inventing a thousands ways with which they do so. Hope it's not too repetitive!

For this one I had just the picture of Riku with his hand on Sora's cheek and same for Sora and them just staring at each other's eyes and it was so sweet I had to write about it. So I added the others ideas, Riku giving advice to Sora, Riku guessing everything, etc.

I also recalled the French lyrics of Aladdin's Arabian Nights: it refers to both insomnia and love. It doesn't work the same in English, but it still give a context!

[notgonnarememberthis]

A Compromising Engagement - Chapter 5

Inspiration strikes out of nowhere but here we are! Honestly I got this idea while on a trip a while back. It’s been sitting in my head for a minute but FINALLY the ideas started flowing. Once I get conversations in my head THEN I know it’s time to begin writing. Honestly, getting inspiration for this was rough recently because I have a new fic idea that absolutely will not leave my head. I was trying to force myself to think for this one instead so I could finish a work first but that’s literally the worst idea when you’re trying to write something. Once I stopped pressuring myself, BOOM, idea. I also had to watch an episode to get their voices straight in my head again but that’s another story. Hope y’all are staying safe!

Watson settles into her seat eyes piercing the suspect across from her. The woman is eerily familiar to her, a pompous air that resonates from her very being. An attitude calling that she can’t be caught.

The case is a rough one, triple homicide with no solid evidence. Even what they managed to obtain from witnesses is circumstantial at best. The woman knows that without a confession, she’d slide by in court. Enough money for a good lawyer and an alibi that she didn’t trust. She’d been at this for an hour and she’s growing weary. There’s absolutely no security footage of her where she claimed to be. It simply doesn’t make sense.

A scream cuts her question short. She leaps up into action, medical instincts taking over as people outside the door call for 911. She grabs the door handle only for it to remain still in her hand. She tries again and again only for the realization to dawn on her that she’s locked inside. “Sherlock?” She calls to her partner who should be just on the other side of the mirror. “Sherlock let me out so I can help!” Her heart sinks when there’s no response. “Marcus?” Again, nothing. “Abreu? Coventry?” Nobody’s on the other side. Great.

She pounds on the door hoping to catch somebody’s attention. “Someone! Let me out! I can help!” She shouts. A chuckle behind her sends a chill down her spine. Her eyes flash back to the woman in the handcuffs, Elana March sits where the woman once was. A wicked grin spreads across her face.

Action settles into her as she pulls out the keychain Kitty gifted her for her birthday. She presses the blunt end against the two way mirror turning her head as the spike inside shatters the glass. She hoists herself through the new opening, adrenaline rushing too fast to feel the glass likely piercing her palms. She reaches for the door only for it to stubbornly stay in place yet again. She looks through the window in the door hoping to catch anyone passing, even in a rush to assist but what catches her eyes sends her into full blown panic.

Two cups of coffee spill across the precinct floor. Marcus is leaning over an all to familiar form giving manic chest compressions. “Sherlock!” All sense leaves her as she slams her shoulder into the door, trying desperately to force it to swing open. “Sherlock!” She cries his name, tears spilling down her cheeks. A scream rips through her when Marcus sits back on his feet, grief consuming his expression.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She shoots out of bed with a strangled gasp desperately trying to catch her breath. It takes her mind a second to catch up to her surroundings. A shadow passes across her room and her body moves unconsciously fetching her singlestick from her bedside drawer. She’s not quick enough, however, as the looming figure catches her wrist midswing.

“Watson!” Sherlock shouts, snapping her out of her state. He sits on her bed in front of her, worry etched into his face. She disguards her singlestick flicking on her lamp.

Her chest is still heaving from adrenaline as she tries to piece together what happened. “Why are you in here?” His brows furrow, confused.

“You were screaming my name.” His knees bounce trying to rid of the remaining anxiety in his own way. “I thought you were in danger.”

Her eyes close in both embarrassment and realization. Her nightmares had been recurrent since that night she stood up to Morland. They all ended the same with someone she cared about dead by the hands of someone she and/or Sherlock helped put away. This one, however, was the worst of the bunch. “You’re hurt.” His right hand is held close to him but she can tell he’s bleeding.

“I was doing an experiment when I heard you scream. I wasn’t careful getting out of it but it’s fine. Merely a scratch.”

“Let me look at it.”

“Watson.” He tries to bat her off again but she only looks at him. A look that tells him that she needs this right now. He obediently follows her to the bathroom for supplies and better lighting.

Once in there she determines that he is correct. It’s a painful cut but stitches are not necessary, thankfully. An apology is on the edge of her tongue when he speaks up instead. 

“What was the dream about?” She tenses not wishing to explain. Not when she’s had so many in the course of two weeks. He’d understand, of course he’d understand. The answer is simple.

“Make sure you wash this so it doesn’t get infected. I’ll go clean up the mess from the experiment.”

He catches her wrist as she tries to walk away. His grip is more gentle than before, his eyes begging her to talk to him. “Joan.” Her name makes her breath catch and for a moment, she wants to tell him everything. How she’s been extra on edge since Morland’s threat to remove his ‘extra security’ if there ever even was such a thing. It did its job, however, as she always brings her singlestick on cases now. She wants to tell him about how she’s worried he’ll take their whole livelihood away in one fell swoop. She knows he supports what she said that night, yet parts of her wish she could just take it back. Taking it back, however, would mean not standing up for Sherlock and that’s absolutely not an option.

“I’m fine.” She insists instead. It’s easier than explaining what he already probably knows.

He doesn’t push, thankfully. He only nods slightly with a sad smile. “Very well. I’ll clean up my mess. You get some rest, we have lunch with your family tomorrow, remember?”

“My mother won’t let me forget.” She jokes halfheartedly. He relaxes slightly at the return of the banter and it’s enough for now. She sulks back to her room hoping to reach a point where she’s tired enough to fall in a dreamless sleep.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sherlock keeps his eyes on her the next day. The rest of the night he’d kept quiet, listening for even the slightest cry. When none came he assumed she’d managed to fall into a peaceful sleep and resumed his experiment. However, when she came down the steps ready for lunch it’s more than clear to him that she hadn’t slept any more at all.

He makes no mention of it, only making her a cup of coffee before they set out which she gratefully accepted. She hides her exhaustion well with others but he’s more than familiar with it by now. With his habits of waking her up early he’s recognized her patterns at different levels of needing sleep. He tries to curb his concern when she drags her feet across the kitchen floor. He bites his tongue when she catches herself going to rub her eyes for the third time only stopping to not ruin her makeup concealing the dark circles under her eyes. He rocks when he has to repeat himself several times when she misses something he says about the experiment he’d conducted the night prior. She’s far too tired, is what he concludes. A type of tired where if they had a case he’d wait another hour before waking her lest he be on the wrong end of a snap in her exhaustion.

“You ready?” Her head lifts following the sound of his voice. He wishes he could give her more time for her coffee to kick in but they’re behind as is.

“Remind me why we scheduled this again? As if that brunch with my mother was bad enough now we have to answer to Oren, Grace, and Lin?”

“Come to recall I don’t believe Lin gave us a choice in the matter.”

“Right.” She chuckles dryly. “Let’s go.”

The ride to the restaurant is blissfully long. It gives Watson the time she needs to wake and him time to think. Not that he hadn’t done it all night but paired with the opportunity to observe Watson, it’s beneficial at least. She no longer seems shaken by the events of the night prior, also not shocking as Watson in the past has pushed back emotions for the lack of confrontation. 

Everyone is already seated when they arrive at the restaurant. Sherlock places a hand at the base of Watson’s back for the appearance but stays back when she goes in to hug her family. He waves politely pulling out Watson’s seat before taking his own.

Conversation flows naturally with the Watson family, all things given. She seems to forget her exhaustion as they discuss how they’ve all been recently, though she does order a coffee with her meal.

“I can’t believe I had to find out about your engagement through mom.” Oren laughs. Watson shifts in her seat a little only offering an apologetic smile.

“At least you found out through someone.” Lin challenges, “I found out via the engagement party invitation.”

“And she will never let me hear the end of it.” Watson shrugs. “Truthfully we were going to keep it a secret for the sake of professionalism and the danger in our jobs.”

Lin gasps, a realization hitting her. “Did you never tell Marcus?”

“No, we didn’t.” Sherlock provides biting the inside of his cheek.

“He’s going to flip when he hears about it. I mean, the whole precinct had a pool deciding when you two were going to get together but engaged?”

“They had a what?” Watson sits up a little straighter, “How do you know about this?”

“I’m the confirmation for when you two finally get together.” He and Watson both share a look of alarm.

“Did you tell anyone?” He asks, Watson’s hand grabs his leg under the table. He’s not sure if he’s grounding her or the other way around. The entire precinct knowing about their ‘engagement’ would complicate things in unimaginable ways. They’d already lied to Hannah at the gala. If that were to get out they’d be dealing with more than minor knowing looks from coworkers but actual anger and hurt from Bell and Gregson both. Dealing with wedding questions from family was bad enough. In the workplace? Sherlock can only grab her wrist in return in order to keep himself from spiraling.

“Of course not. I got Joan’s message loud and clear that I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone. Nobody has even asked recently so you’re off the hook.”

They both breathe a sigh of relief. He lets her go but Watson’s hand remains, though relaxing her grip. He’s caught by how natural the position feels. Simply holding each other was an action he’d never thought he’d find so comforting yet her hand just above his knee curbs his anxieties he’d been feeling having to pretend. They’re partners, afterall, how much pretending did they really need?

The rest of lunch is unremarkable at best. Discussion of wedding ideas fended off with excuses over how busy they’ve been with work. Lin threatened to plan for them and for a moment it didn’t sound like a horrible idea until he thought of how long that guest list would be.

He shakes his head when that thought truly settled in. How long had he been thinking like this engagement was real? Thoughts of actual weddings and Watson going dress shopping as if that weren’t something Mary and the whole Watson clan in general wouldn’t want to be involved with.

“I think I broke him.” Lin teases gently. He’s more than used to her at this point but he’s certainly overwhelmed. Watson squeezes his knee pulling his gaze to her.

“It’s ok.” She coaxes with a smile that could calm him instantly, “We’ll figure it out.” He offers her a small smile, if only she knew what he was trying to figure out.

When they say their goodbyes his hand reaches for Watson’s, his fingers interlacing with hers as they make their way to the car. Even as the climb in the back of a cab his hand covers hers in the drive finding the comfort he yearns for in the simple touch. He didn’t realize how badly he needed it until she climbed out when they arrived home and her touch was gone.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He almost forgets about Watson’s nightmare in the panic that gripped his mind for the rest of the night. It’s not until Watson lingers in his doorway, her face more vulnerable than she lets most view her as, that he remembers the encounter. She schools her emotions so well most days.

“Any new cases?” Her voice sounds pleading and tired.

“I thought you’d be reading your book right now.”

“I finished it last night.” She admits with a sigh.

“Unfortunately nothing. It appears all the interesting murders have taken a holiday.” He jests, “I’d say let's take a trip to New York City but I believe they’re not quite keen on having me back any time soon.”

“Well you did lick what they thought was a deadly poison and made an officer faint.”

“Anyone with a sense of smell knew that it was italian dressing Watson.” She looks away when he meets her gaze. “Are you alright?”

“Fine.”

“Clearly not.” She shifts her weight from left to right and back again.

“You died.” He rears back, almost shocked that she relented so easily. “I was stuck in interrogation with a suspect and I heard screaming. I was locked inside and I couldn’t get out. I saw you on the ground. Marcus just stopped trying to save you. Nobody could hear me and I could’ve helped, I know I could but.” He’s up easily and in two steps he’s wrapped his arms around her. Her hands freeze in the air but when he holds her tighter she relents trembling in his arms like he could make it all stop.

“It’s alright.” He whispers into her hair. “I’m ok.” He feels her nod into his shoulder. He’s more than familiar with these nightmares, however. No amount of words can shake that uneasiness they bring. “Was this the only one?”

Her silence is enough of an answer as is.

“Only me?”

She tightens her grip but he can feel the just barely there shake of her head. “We saw your family today. They’re happy, if a tad relentless in pushing us to plan our fake wedding.” He feels her shoulders shake: a laugh, that’s good. “Kitty and Archie are likely cuddled up together after watching a Disney movie that Kitty pretends not to like but we both know she’s a secret softie hm?” A nod. “As for me. Well, you can stay in my bed if you’d like that way I’m right here if you need me.”

She stiffens and for a moment he believes he’s gone too far. She lets out an agonizingly long breath contemplating his offer. She swallows heavily, nodding more distinctly this time. It’s slow, almost giving herself the opportunity to change her mind. He guides her to the bed laying down first, controlling his breathing tightly so as to not make the smallest move that could scare her off.

She looks so small as she crawls in beside him. This woman that he associates with so much strength looking so vulnerable in this moment. He wishes he could take her pain on as his own. He’d do it in a second if he could. He opens an arm making the silent offer to her. A small smile that he hopes tells her if she doesn’t need it she doesn’t have to take it.

He has to force himself not to stop breathing when her head settles on his bare chest where she can listen to his racing heart. Her hand comes to rest on the base of his ribs content to just feel like slight expansion and contraction of his breathing. His own hand settles on her back, content to spell out meaningless formulas and ludicrous patterns until she’s lulled into a deep restful sleep.

He listens to her slow even breaths as his eyes drift closed.

--------------

@tamarknott @averageinside

[artificialqueens]

Hugs, tears and electricity (Biadore) - Chaoticnachokitten

A/N: Hii^-^

This is my first fanfic in this fandom, so please leave me some feedback, positive or negative, if you want to. I wrote this because there will never be enough sickfics but I’m too shy to ask for them, so yeah. Please look at the trigger warnings as there will be discussions of eating disorders and somewhat mild self harm (no blood). Stay safe and don’t read it if anything might trigger you. This is probably set in 2015/2016 but not necessarily.

Summary: Why performing in a club while being sick is never a good idea. Biadore friendship with fluff, angst and hurt/comfort.

Adore checked her phone. She had actually slept through the whole day. It was three hours before the show would start. While it wasn’t unusual for her to sleep in, the whole day was a bit extreme, and yet she was still tired and felt off.

The gig wasn’t anything particularly fancy or really exciting even, just a local club hosting a singing/ lip sync competition. Most of the performers would be local queens as well, with the exception of her.

It had been rumored that the club was about to go bankrupt, so they decided to scrape up basically all of the money they had left to host the show and try to get one of the RuGirls to perform there. Since Adore knew the club, and some of the local queens, she had decided to accept to offer, even if the pay wasn't that great. At least it was convenient because she was currently staying in a hotel (sharing a room with Bianca because literally every room was booked, not that either of them minded) which happened to be basically next to the club.

Bianca and her hadn't been doing a lot of gigs in a while as they had both been busy with different projects, and Adore missed the feeling of being on stage, people cheering for her, the adrenaline kick, the casual making out with fans, and, of course, the occasional crowd surfing.

Now, usually Adore would only need about an hour to get ready, depending on the occasion and how she was feeling but Bianca had insisted that they’d do the final costume fitting for her custom dress as soon as possible in case any kind of alteration had to be done.

Adore sometimes wondered how Bianca and her were such amazing friends despite them being completely different, especially when it came to their drag.

While Adore could care less about what people thought of her and her gender bending, unique and sometimes completely spontaneous style of drag, or at least act like it, Bianca liked to have everything planned out and organized as soon as possible so nothing could possibly go wrong. In fact she was probably doing it right now, given the sounds on her side; Adore didn’t bother to check though, in fact she didn’t want to move at all as she still felt exhausted for some reason despite having slept through the whole day.

Why would someone plan their whole drag a day before the show would even start on their day off? Adore just shook her head fondly and closed her eyes, just for a minute, to regain some energy. It wasn’t any use though as she was woken up by the older queen what seemed like only seconds later. Right. The dress. That got her excited enough to get up, although not without difficulty.

"Oh my god, it's stunning.” Adore was gagging over the dress. It even exceeded her expectations. It wasn't just any dress. It was the most perfect custom dress made by Bianca specifically for her, which made it even better. Bianca let Adore enjoy the moment and proceeded to search for the very corset Adore had 'borrowed' from her among a few other things.

Bianca had never been able to quite bring herself to be mad at the younger queen though, it was just a corset after all, she herself had given it to the younger queen. If anything it mostly amused her because Adore seemed to be attached to it for some odd reason.

Said queen was still staring at the dress, gently touching the beautiful fabric. A lot of work had gone into it, some parts had to be made completely from scratch, and of course, the sewing hadn't been that easy either, given the materials. The fact that the dress had been designed and created specifically for Adore made it about ten times more complicated as well.

First of all, it needed to give her the ability to move as freely as possible on stage. Adore was known for her energetic life performances and occasional crowd surfing. On top of that, it still needed to be absolutely gorgeous while not looking super polished. Someone who calls themselves polish remover should probably not be forced into a long, glamorous gown ; it just wouldn't be authentic Adore anymore.

Taking all of that into consideration, Bianca had created a turquoise, off the shoulder sequin mini dress, mermaid themed of course, so Adore could still be her true self. It was decorated with small pieces of corals on the neckline (no sharp ones though, Adore is very clumsy and would probably hurt herself with them or with a long gown) and tiny little fish ornaments around the waist, arranged like a belt (just for fun and the irony). Bianca had even been thoughtful enough to create the dress in a way that the seams could be let out, just in case. It was also perfect for the upcoming evening as it would look absolutely stunning in the spotlight while not being a pain to lip sync in.

Adore was still admiring the dress when Bianca came back with the corset. Only then did she notice that something was off about Adore. Her face was really pale, except her cheeks, which were flushed pink. Kind of adorable (pun not intended), but really worrying at the same time. So maybe that’s why it had been impossible to wake her up.

Adore went to grab the corset in order to put it on, but Bianca just shook her head. Adore started giggling (which quickly turned into a cough, she really needed to quit smoking).

"At this point I can do it all by myself B. I’m like, an expert now, a real drag queen.”

Still, she removed her shirt (Bianca merch), moved closer to the older queen, and turned around.

"Oh shut up", Bianca muttered, no bite in her voice though, a smile tugging on her lips even. Adore was very special to her, and this was one of her ways to express it.

She noticed a few bruises on Adore's back. Nothing serious, but she'd quickly check on them, just to make sure putting on the corset wouldn't be any more uncomfortable than usual for the younger queen. Bianca let her fingers gently trace over the bruises. Her worry grew as she felt the heat basically radiating off of Adore.

"Does that hurt?" She managed to keep her voice as neutral and casual sounding as possible. She knew from experience that Adore would probably not admit anything, at least for now. The younger queen simply hated being sick or feeling weak, not being able to perform, and disappointing her fans.

"Uhm not really, no. Why?" Adore was slightly confused. While her body was hurting all over, especially her muscles from the fever, she had tried not to make it super obvious, and it wasn't like Bianca was making it worse. "You've got a couple of bruises. Do you think the corset will be alright?"

"Yeah, sure." Bianca couldn't see Adore's smile. Bianca was seriously worried about a bit of bruising. Those were the kind of moments that proved that people who said Bianca was cold and bitter were just wrong as they either completely ignored her kind actions or just didn't want see them. Though it wasn't like their opinion meant anything anyway.

With skilled fingers, Bianca went ahead and laced her in, noticing that it was easier to put it on compared to the last times, but then shrugged it off. The material of the corset was probably stretched out or something. At least that's what Bianca told herself to keep calm, although the worry kept growing in her chest, almost suffocating her. She forced a smile on her face, which was fairly easy for her after all those years of performing.

"Alright, all done. Let's get you in that dress." Adore nodded excitedly, and tried on her gorgeous new dress while concentrating hard on keeping her balance. Bianca zipped it up, noticing in horror that it was too loose.

She furrowed her brows in confusion. She'd been making dresses for years now, so the measurements simply could not be wrong, especially since they had been taken pretty recently. That meant Adore had managed to drop an alarming amount of weight in a really short time. Bianca could have slapped herself in that moment, for not noticing sooner. The amount of worry was almost unbearable now, blocking her airways. She tried to ignore the feeling and act rational. As much as she didn't want to make Adore to feel uncomfortable, she had to find out what was wrong with her baby. Bianca took a deep breath, forming the words in her head.

"B?", Adore asked in a confused and slightly worried tone. "Are you okay? You literally haven't said anything for minutes now, you’re freaking me out." Bianca stepped in front of the younger queen, and gestured to the bed. "Sit down, I need to talk to you."

The words came out the wrong way, Adore looked terrified and started shivering in fear. Her somewhat foggy and feverish brain was trying to find out what she had done wrong and making everything dramatic. Adore just hated disappointing or upsetting people she loved. Realizing her mistake, Bianca quickly hugged Adore, and sat her down on the bed, gently assuring her it wasn't anything too bad. Technically a lie, but Bianca was able to hide her worrying.

"Adore. As you might have noticed, your dress obviously doesn't fit. Which is weird, because I took your measurements just a short while ago. Something is wrong, and I would like to help you, okay baby?"

Adore started shivering even more, a voice in her head telling her to not say anything. She fought it with all of her strength.

"I- I'm sorry." A sob escaped her "You worked so hard on it and I- I can't do anything right!" Okay this was going in the false direction.

"Baby, I don't care about having to change something about the dress, I care about you. It is neither normal nor healthy to lose that weight that fast. Please talk to me, Adore." Adore just didn't feel ready to talk, so instead she tried to respond as maturely as possible.

"Please..can we talk after the show? I promise I will tell you everything, but I need some time to prepare myself." Bianca agreed.

"Alright baby, but please promise me to take care of yourself up there. So nothing too exhausting and if you don't feel well, cancel. Your health is the most important thing." Some tears escaped Adore's eyes. She felt loved.

“I promise I feel good enough to perform. Thank you, B." She pulled Bianca in a tight hug.

They stayed like this for a while, holding each other and feeling like everything would work out. Whatever obstacle the younger queen was facing at the moment, they would manage to fix it. Bianca pressed a kiss to Adore's forehead, frowning when she felt the heat once again, maybe even stronger than before. She let go of Adore, knowing they still needed to get her in drag. Adore's smile was precious, and Bianca couldn't help but kiss her once more, this time on the cheek.

"I'm going to do my makeup now", Adore announced, beginning to get up to go to the bathroom, where her makeup was stored. She would usually do it at the club, right before the gig, but she knew that the dressing rooms sucked in that particular club. Bianca quickly grabbed her shoulder to prevent Adore from leaving.

"Let me do it for you." Adore shook her head.

"Seriously B, you've done more than enough for me already. You're supposed to relax today." Bianca merely sighed.

"Show me your hands then." Confused, the younger queen stretched out her arms a bit, to take a look at her hands. They were trembling, and not in a normal way.

"Oh."

"Exactly. I'm doing your makeup, and that's the end of it. Unless you actually want to be a responsible adult and cancel."

Adore shook her head again. Bianca sighed, and got up to get everything she needed. Adore waited patiently, while getting mildly amused by the cursing about her stuff being messy and all over the place. Bianca came back, not even bothering to say anything. She just gave Adore her 'Really queen?' stare. At this point, she had already accepted that this was just the way the younger queen was, and nothing could change that. And, honestly, given Adore's style of drag, being organized and clean would just be plain weird.

“Wait, are those my brushes? Why are they clean?”

“Well someone just had to clean them bitch, they were literal health hazards. I don’t even know how you can even still use them.”

Adore simply shrugged. What even is the point of cleaning brushes if you’re going to use them over and over again?

"Okay, close your eyes." Adore was confused. Why in the hell would Bianca want to start with the eyes? She complied though, not questioning it. Somehow she felt like her energy had drained all at once. Bianca witnessed the sudden change immediately; it did absolutely nothing to calm her nerves. To not raise any more suspicion of Adore, she half-heartedly applied some eye primer , well knowing that Adore usually didn't even bother to use it. "Okay, now open your mouth." At this point Adore was concerned. What the hell was Bianca on and what was she doing to her face?

She opened her mouth to ask the older queen what was going on, but before she could even say anything, a cold, metal-like tasting object had been pushed in her mouth.

Damn. That had been one fast move of the older queen. Bianca gave Adore one stern look that basically told her to better keep her mouth closed, or the consequences wouldn't be pretty. Adore pouted, but kept the thermometer under her tongue. Bianca’s look softened once the thermometer beeped. The somewhat relaxed face was quickly replaced with another concerned frown, the older queen was seemingly dissatisfied with the numbers on the small device.

“Do you like, always travel with medical equipment?” A sigh followed.

“Don’t even try to change the subject now, because this is not looking good. See, your temperature’s 101. I'll get you something for it." Adore shook her head with a slight frown.

"I can't. You know how tired I get after taking that stuff. Besides I'm feeling alright, no need to worry." She smiled sweetly.

Yeah, right. Last time Adore had told Bianca not to worry, Bianca found her passed out and bleeding on the street after leaving a club with a guy the older queen had warned Adore about. Ever since then, Bianca had promised herself she wouldn't let anything like that ever happen again, even if that meant a pouting queen for a while. So needless to say, Bianca was just not convinced it would be any good for Adore to perform sick without any energy due to the lack of proper nutrition and possibly drunk on top of everything. But then again, the younger queen was an adult and could make her own (terrible) decisions.

"I'll come with you.”

"B, you really don't know what relaxing means, do you?"

"Oh yeah, 'cause knowing you'll probably collapse on stage is very relaxing, isn't it?" Bianca proceeded to roll her eyes.

"C'mon, it's just a small gig, I'll be fine."

To at least kind of calm the older queen, Adore quickly added "If you still want to talk about the..uhm..dress thing, we'll do it after the show. Promise, just please, take care of yourself for once." Cue puppy eyes, that unfortunately never really worked on the older queen. Bianca raised an eyebrow at that.

"You're telling me to take care of myself? This is simply ridiculous. And I, in fact, insist that we're going to talk about the ‘dress’ thing. So, let's just get you ready, all right?"

Making jokes seemed wrong right now, her ‘rolodex of hate’ stayed completely silent, so changing the topic would have to do the job of lighting up the mood. "What did you have in mind for today?" Adore kind of tilted her head sideways, trying really hard to remember what she had originally wanted to do. Her face was burning up and her head was a fuzzy mess.

"Uhm how about a kind of mermaid inspired design? I mean not that I would need makeup to look like that, so it's really just working with what I already got." She grinned slightly, which was nice to see. Maybe she would survive the gig after all. Bianca smiled, nodded and then went all professional.

She wanted Adore's makeup to be perfect, which, given her experience and Adore’s flawless face, wouldn’t be that hard. She was so skilled and experienced she could actually let her thoughts drift off while still doing a perfect job.

Bianca thought about Adore and her obvious problem. Of course, she already expected her to say the most obvious, but maybe, just maybe, it wasn't anything that bad. Although Adore saying she needed time before talking about it didn’t sound like it was just a small thing, hope dies last.

Once she was done with the makeup, she convinced Adore to go to the club with her, saying she needed a couple of drinks, but in reality she didn't feel good about letting Adore leave alone. Not even the amount of makeup could hide that something wasn't exactly right.

Since the younger queen could basically hear Bianca overthinking everything, she quickly got up to leave the hotel room. It didn't exactly work out as some black spots clouded her vision, and she could only prevent herself from collapsing with all of her strength while holding onto whatever furniture was next to her. Thankfully the sensation only lasted a couple of seconds, and she was able to reach the door without any further issues. She was excited for the show, the adrenaline was already kicking in, preventing her from feeling any worse. She was about to turn the doorknob when she felt a hand on her wrist gently but firmly pulling her back.

"Bitch, you're going to wear a jacket. And no, not that leather thing, don’t look at me like that. Can't have you freeze to death on top of everything else."

"Ugh, fine, mom." Bianca just rolled her eyes, and handed Adore said jacket.

It really was a cold night, nicely paired with the kind of wind that managed to make everyone feel cold, no matter the clothes. It made both of them shiver. The atmosphere between Bianca and Adore was a bit tense, simply because Bianca was obviously worried, so Adore tried to lighten the mood a bit.

“Look, there’s a shooting star!”, she exclaimed while pointing at the sky. Shit, she really is delirious. “Adore, that’s not a shooting star, it’s a just an airplane.”

“I know. I was just joking..?” Bianca wasn’t convinced whatsoever. The rest of their walk to the club was mostly silent apart from the younger queen coughing a couple of times. Bianca wanted to drag her back to the hotel, but knew that Adore would rather collapse on stage than cancel, just like almost every serious, professional drag performer.

They arrived at the club at the time Adore was supposed to, as to avoid a crowd of drunk fans expecting to meet her before the show. Usually Adore liked meeting her fans, but not in her current state and definitely not in front of a club. The location offered no security whatsoever, and, unlike in a meet and greet, there would always be disappointed people who weren’t noticed, and hateful posts the day after. On top of that it was starting to rain, and the younger queen had to shield her face with her arms to protect her paint. While she usually didn’t care about her makeup getting smudged, Bianca’s gorgeous artwork could not be destroyed under any circumstances. So, needless to say, Adore was more than happy to not having to deal with people wanting to talk to her for an hour and take tons of selfies all while standing outside in the cold rain.

The club was in worse condition than expected. Some of the illuminated letters were only occasional lighting up, one didn't work at anymore.

"Party!" One of the staff members seemed to hear that and immediately recognized them. He made his way over to the two queens, politely thanking them for coming, and then quickly showing them the backstage entrance. Technically Bianca wasn't allowed in that area because she wasn't performing, but in reality she was Bianca del Rio and the staff member could probably tell that something was wrong. In order to let them get ready, he just asked them if they needed anything.

When Adore declined, he excused himself. One of the local queens (barely 21, smudged makeup and nervous as hell) presented Adore the list so she could in which order everyone would perform. Apparently no one wanted to do the opening, so she Adore put her name on it (which made Bianca roll her eyes once more. The younger queen would probably drain all of her remaining energy just for the opening speech.)She was assigned to do the second lip sync and was third for the life singing. Not bad. She thanked the queen, and then worked on a rough outline of what she wanted to say. A few moments after the local queen had left, a loud, excited squeal could be heard outside, which made Adore chuckle slightly. Afterwards she got back to her opening speech.

Adore had never been one to plan out everything perfect, as it was too stiff and polished in her opinion. The job was easy as well. Just get the crowd excited, which would be a piece of cake. After all, she just had to yell 'Pizza' and 'Party' to make her fans go wild. Or, not even that, all she had to do was going on stage. Or referring to something iconic said on Drag Race. It was one of the perks of being well known and of course loved in the scene.

A bit of time passed, and she still hadn’t received any kind of information when exactly she should be on stage, usually some staff member would knock on her door and let her know. So when she heard the know she assumed it was time, so she quickly checked her makeup, fixed her dress and opened the door. The local queen from earlier was standing there, still looking very nervous, but also somewhat scared.

“I'm really sorry”, she started, voice trembling, pulling on the sleeves on her dress nervously

“Apparently the club is having some technical difficulties that need to be fixed. It’s honestly like every damn time. Again I’m really sorry, someone will inform you when they’ve fixed everything. It usually doesn’t take that long.”

What kind of club even is this? Adore was getting slightly annoyed, but forced herself to smile. “Alright, thanks for telling me. Oh, and there’s no need to apologize. It’s not your fault.”

As soon as the girl had left again, Adore felt the need to cry. Why did she ever agree to do this? How long would this take? The built up adrenaline was leaving her body and she was getting so exhausted just by being awake.

Bianca seemed to be able to read her mind, because before she knew it the younger queen was laying on a couch, probably the most expensive thing in this entire sad excuse for a club, head resting it the older queen’s lap, who tried to comfort her by gently stroking her head without messing up the long red wig, and telling her over and over again that everything would be okay.

At this point Bianca couldn’t even tell if it was her who in fact needed to hear those things. That sight and knowing there was nothing she could really do right now to help the younger queen hurt her heart. Adore closed her eyes, clearly trying to get some energy back, which likely wouldn’t be very effective though. What she really needed were food, medicine and plenty of rest. And somebody to take care of her, because Adore was terrible at taking care of herself when she was sick.

Around twenty minutes later, someone knocked on the door again, waking up the younger queen, this time an actual staff member, telling Adore she was supposed to go on stage in five minutes, and giving her two ear pieces, like every normal club would. He immediately left after that, to give Adore time to get ready.

As soon as he had left, Bianca looked at the younger queen with a dead serious expression.

“I can’t believe you’re actually risking your health like that.”

“Don’t act like you haven’t done the exact same thing before.” Bianca couldn’t really argue with that, and just pulled Adore into a hug.

“Please don’t die up there, people are going to assume it was me.” Adore lightly chuckled.

“I won’t. I have to go now though.”

Squeezing the older queen tightly one last time, she put on her best confident face and walk, and headed to the stage. On the outside, she probably looked fine thanks to Bianca’s makeup skills, but her head was pounding, the ear pieces felt uncomfortable and the black dots clouding her vision just wouldn’t go away. On top of that she just seemed not to be able to stop shivering to the point where her legs were ready to give out one time. Thankfully she made it to the stage without fainting. The first part would be really easy: greeting the fans.

"Hi everyone, thanks for coming tonight! I'll keep this short so we can go straight into the good stuff." And done. As predicted, the crowd was already going crazy by just seeing her. The fans were in fact cheering so loudly she had to scream to be heard, even with the microphone, which, to be honest, kind of sucked quality wise.

"Are you ready? Let's get sickening! Party!" The last word had been a little too much for her already sore throat, and she really had to fight the urge to cough.

"Those are the amazing queens that will perform tonight." She listed everyone, trying to keep it both brief and entertaining.

Afterwards, she quickly (or as quickly as she could manage) left the stage to make room for the first queen. She also needed to prepare herself for the upcoming lip sync, as she would be the second one. The competition was designed to be pretty fair, so she would only know which song she would perform on stage. Only one minute left. Bianca for some reason was nowhere in sight, so she just quickly looked in the mirror, deciding she looked fucking cool, and then made her way back to the stage.

A staff member handed her a jar with contained folded pieces of paper. She had to pick one randomly, and the chosen paper would reveal what song she’d be performing. Everyone of the performing queens would have to do that as well. It was made like that so every contestant had fair chances of winning.

Adore opened the jar and tried to get out its contents in a somewhat sexual way, making the crowd scream once again. She opened the paper and read the word printed on it. 'Vibeology'. Creativity apparently wasn't their strongest suit, but on the bright side, she would really slay this lip sync. As soon as she started to relax a bit though, her body took that as a sign that it was okay to make her feel worse. The burning of her cheeks was almost unbearable, and the costume was too hot and she just wanted it off. Why did she ever agree to do this?

The crowd was kind of confused because Adore was just staring at the paper, not saying anything after acting so excited just minutes ago. The staff started playing the music anyway. Adore's ear pieces were adjusted way too loudly, it was almost hurting her ears, definitely not helping with her already present headache. Still, she forced a grin, and started dancing, acting as unique and playful as ever, doing the cross eye, jumping around, even doing a split.

The adrenaline was pumping through her entire body, giving her the strength she needed. This was why she loved performing. Feeling the energy of the crowd always gave her one of the best highs she had ever experienced. The feeling was just so incredible.

She was so into the performance, she didn't even notice that the light was suddenly acting weird. If Adore had noticed it, she could have prevented what was about to happen. (The entire electricity was connected somehow, even her ear pieces were connected with the light) When she was about to jump into another split, the light suddenly went out completely, she felt the right ear piece heating up, and before she could do anything, the worst sound and an excruciating pain erupted from her ear, sending literal waves of pain down her entire body. The sound was like a mix of fireworks and a siren, the pain too terrible to describe it in words. Tears shot in her eyes and a scream escaped her lips as she felt her body fall to the floor, unable to move on her own, except her body was shaking in shock and pain, or even try to hide her pain. She was almost thankful when she felt the darkness wrapping her head, taking away a bit of the pain. Her eyelids fluttered shut..

(P. O. V. Bianca at the start of the lip sync.)

Bianca was already worried, and the song hadn't even started. Adore wasn't reacting to the note at all. No funny comment or literally anything (not that Bianca could see her face, she was watching through a camera backstage which was positioned on the back of the stage). She was blankly staring into space. The older queen had to stop herself from dragging Adore off stage with all her strength. When the lip sync started though, Adore went into her usual energetic, quirky self, in fact, you could barely tell she wasn't 100% alright. It honestly made Bianca wonder whether Adore did this a lot, or if she was just a good actress.

Bianca was able to relax a tiny bit, seeing that Adore was doing somewhat okay, and she couldn't help but notice how pretty the younger queen was. The messy aesthetic just worked, and really added a lot to Adore's character. The only thing that really bothered her, was the fact that the dress still didn't fit her properly, even after trying to fix it in the rather short amount of time. This sight made her chest clench painfully once again. Of course, she would be able to fix it with some more time, but she’d obviously rather have Adore healthy again.

Suddenly the light started acting crazy, the spotlights going off at completely random times and places, which was definitely not what was supposed to happen. Adore didn't seem bothered by it though, in fact, it was almost like she didn't notice it at all.

The younger queen was even getting ready to jump into a split, just as the lights went out entirely. The entire room fell silent, then Bianca could see blue sparks coming from somewhere, very possibly but hopefully not Adore. What followed was the most painful scream she had ever heard (and she had heard a lot of screaming and yelling), and a thud. The thought of what could have possibly happened made her feel sick to her stomach.

At this point, the people were totally freaking out. Bianca practically ran on stage, indeed finding an unconscious Adore. Thankfully the curtain had fallen and shielded the horrific sight from the crowd. Bianca didn’t even want to think about what would have happened if it had hit Adore. She still freaked out, but tried to force herself to act as responsible as possible in order to help the younger queen.

Trying to not worry the crowd, the staff members announced via megaphone that everyone needed to leave for now because of some technical difficulties, everything they had heard were just sound effects, everyone was safe and they would get their money back, stuff like that.

It gave Bianca the opportunity to quietly half drag half carry Adore off the stage as fast as possible. Thankfully she had remembered how to get back to the dressing room before the whole thing had happened, because it was pretty impossible to see anything, the only source of light were some LED floor spots.

It was a miracle that no one of the fans had noticed anything, well except for the scream, but the crowd was probably as shocked as she was. This club honestly sucked. The staff members managed to escort the disturbed people out with little problem, and then proceeded to work on the broken electricity.

By the time Bianca and Adore had made it back to the dressing room, the light was thankfully working again, at least in that particular room, although it was still flickering, somehow making the mood of the room even more dramatic, and frankly, irritating.

Bianca laid Adore on the only small sofa in the room. She was still unconscious. The first thing Bianca did was taking off the ear piece. It thankfully still was one piece, but it looked like something in it had exploded and electrocuted Adore in the process. Bianca cringed at the sheer thought of how painful that must have been.

She gently started shaking the younger queen, trying to be completely and utterly careful. When that didn't work, she checked Adore's pulse. It was there, but weak. Not good at all. Her next attempt was putting cold water on the younger queen's face. This did the trick, Adore gasped and opened her eyes. Bianca had never been that thankful in her entire life.

Unsurprisingly though, Adore was still in a state of shock, and started crying uncontrollably, confused, not knowing where she was or what was happening, feeling absolutely terrified and hurting all over. Bianca kept her voice quiet and gentle.

"Is it okay if I hug you?" Adore managed to give her a small nod. Usually when she was sad or hurt, touch seemed to really help the younger queen, this was the reason why Bianca had asked her this question first. Well, not one hundred percent because of that. In her vulnerable state Adore just needed to be protected right now, the older queen could absolutely not let happen anything else to her, or she’d never forgive herself.

Bianca went on her knees and just held the younger queen, and telling her she was okay and everything would be alright, hoping to make her feel just a tiny bit better. Adore calmed down almost immediately, Bianca's presence never failed to make her feel safe. Especially her scent, and the way she held her were like magic to Adore. The crying calmed down to a manageable level rather quickly, possibly because Adore didn’t have any energy left anymore. Bianca slowly let go of her, because she really needed to check whether they needed to call an ambulance. Not wanting to break all of the contact though, she held Adore's hand instead.

"Okay baby, I need to ask you a couple of things", she said softly.

"Afterwards we'll go home immediately, and we'll cuddle for the whole night, I promise", she quickly added, seeing that Adore's eyes went all glossy again.

"Is that okay?" Adore weakly nodded again.

"Okay, thank you baby. Do you hear everything I say?" A nod.

"My ear hurts so bad though, and there’s like this.. ringing that won’t go away" , Adore admitted in the saddest, tiniest voice, wincing when another bolt of pain hit her.

Bianca gently wiped away the fresh tears with her thumb and placed a comforting kiss on Adore’s forehead. That sounded not too bad given the circumstances, Bianca would just bring Adore to a doctor tomorrow as she already knew how much Adore would hate going to a hospital, and she wasn't in any life threatening state, at least it didn’t currently seem like it.

Adore for some reason thought it would be a good idea to touch her ear, hissing when the pain was so intense it made her dizzy. Bianca quickly but gently pulled the younger’s hand away and told her not to do it again.

"I'm so sorry baby. I promise you'll feel better soon. Anything else you want to tell me?" Adore had started crying quietly again.

"I feel horrible B, please just get me out of here."

"Of course baby, can you-" Adore tried to push herself into a sitting position and failed. Her ear was ringing so painfully, causing her head spin and making her want to curl up and die. There was simply too much pain and not enough strength.

"Okay no, you obviously can't. That’s okay, I'm just going to carry you outside, then we can call a cab."

Adore wanted to protest, being absolutely sure that Bianca would collapse while trying to lift her. She knew how freaking heavy she was. Maybe if she tried again she could actually walk. She simply had to. Otherwise she'd crush the older queen with her weight. Damn, why couldn’t she just be skinny?

Bianca could practically hear Adore thinking, so she put on a jacket on the younger and gently picked up her bridal style. She was very surprised, in a bad way. Adore felt so light, delicate like a single touch could break her, and Bianca could feel the bones of her spine sticking out. They were absolutely going to talk about the sudden weight loss. And she needed to give Adore some medicine as soon as possible. She was practically burning up, wincing in pain and shivering like crazy, Bianca was reminded of those abandoned kittens in terrible states, sick and almost starved to death they would sometimes show in those animal shelter documentaries. The MEOW tattoo just added to that mental picture.

The older queen used an exclusive exit to make sure no fans would see them, which was like the worst thing that could probably happen. For what seemed to be the first time this night, they were in luck and everyone seemed to be gone at this point, making everything a whole lot easier. There was a somewhat fancy button directly next to the club that would automatically call a cab to their exact location. Perhaps the only good thing the club had to offer.

Trying to push it was a real challenge, considering that she was carrying an adult person at the same time, but there was absolutely no way she would put that precious queen on the cold, dirty and wet from the continuous rain, ground. With a bit of adjustment she managed to press it. Now all she had to do was comfort Adore and try to keep her warm, at least dry from the freezing rain, which wasn’t all that easy as it seemed to only get stronger as time went by. Eventually it was pouring icy water.

The shivering got worse by the second as well although Adore felt way too hot, her body radiating heat.

Being in the cold for too long while already being sick was also less than ideal. Adore let out a soft pained sound. She was still really overwhelmed, trying to process everything that had happened. Bianca just held her closer.

“Shh, I got you. Nothing is going to happen to you anymore baby, I promise.” The rain was really pouring now, the drops were huge and icy.

The cab thankfully arrived after only a couple of minutes of waiting, and the driver didn't even question anything, which Bianca was grateful for.

During the drive Adore and Bianca held hands, Bianca gently stroking Adore's, knowing she liked that. With her free hand, she gently moved the hair out of the younger queen's face to take another look at her. She seemed to look worse by the second, skin getting as white as snow, a bizarre contrast to her now completely smudged black eye makeup and her cheeks, which were almost glowing at this point.

The fact that Adore couldn't even hold up her head properly anymore was probably the most concerning thing. The older queen gently held Adore so she wouldn’t bang her head against the car window or something. Bianca swore to herself she would never let the younger queen perform ever again when she wasn't feeling 100%. Tonight had just proved how terrible and harmful Adore's choices were.

The cab arrived at the hotel. Bianca paid the driver, and tipped him before lifting Adore out of the car and carrying her inside the hotel. Thankfully it was so late that no one except the receptionist saw them, and she was clearly just not interested. She had probably seen worse. Thankfully their room wasn’t very far away, lowering the chances of any fans seeing them.

When they had arrived in front of their room, Bianca unlocked the door, which thankfully worked with sliding in a card. Once they were in, she placed Adore on the bed, gently, making sure the younger queen wasn't wearing shoes anymore.

Adore was still shaking, letting out a tiny pained noise once again. Bianca was pretty much helpless at this point, not being sure what she should do. Getting the medication meant leaving Adore, and that was the last thing she wanted to do, but on the other hand, the younger queen really needed it as soon as possible. She gently started petting Adore's head, hoping it would comfort her just a tiny bit before gently telling her "I'm just going to get you something, I'll be back in just a few seconds.”

The saddest eyes in history and a whispered "Please don't leave me" followed.

Bianca gently kissed Adore's overheated forehead and promised her once more she'd hurry up. Thankfully being as organized as she was, she had already put everything she needed in the bathroom and didn't have to search for it. Hopefully the stuff she had would be enough to help Adore.

When she went back, she was met with the heartbreaking sight of a quietly crying mermaid curled up into a tiny ball. Bianca took the thermometer again. Then she just let her instincts take over. She wrapped her arms around the shaking ball of sadness and gently told her everything would be better soon. It took a couple of minutes before Adore had been ready to fully uncurl again as she was partly doing it because of physical pain, and as soon as she did, the thermometer was placed into her mouth again.

"103.8. Shit. We gotta get this down immediately."

Bianca was about to hand Adore the appropriate pill, when she realized that would be a mistake in her current state.

"Oh fuck, I just remembered, that’s the kind you can't take on an empty stomach, and I don't have anything else right now. And there's no way I'm leaving you."

Adore was convinced that this day couldn't get any worse. She, in fact, did have a problem with eating that had been getting worse over the past couple of weeks, and she wasn't ready to give it up. Not when she was doing so good and her weight was finally going down.

Long story short, she could cry again. Except she didn't have any energy and her stomach was cramping, probably from long suppressed hunger. She didn't care though. It didn’t matter anyway. Although she wanted nothing more than feel better and sleep, her mind didn’t allow her to simply agree.

“I ate today..earlier.” Her voice was barely a whisper. So much for trying to put up a fight.

“Adore, we literally spent the whole day together, which you spent entirely sleeping, so I would know that. I might be old, but I’m not that old yet.” Bianca rolled her eyes to disguise her worry.

Adore felt her chest tightening, a wave of feverish panic hit her.

"I- I can't", she whispered. "Please don't make me."

Adore quietly winced as another bolt of pain shot through her body. She felt her face burning while every other part of her body was freezing. Her muscles shook from pure exhaustion. Bianca was getting even more worried and tense. If Adore's temperature would rise any more, she'd have to bring her to hospital. And maybe they'd keep her there..no, that would and could not happen. Not on her watch. Adore would hate that.

She gently took Adore's hand. "Look baby, I'm not going to make you, but you need to understand that if you’re neither going to eat nor take your medication, we'll have to go to the ER because that is literally life threatening and I can't see you suffer like this any longer. So please baby, just try to." Tears escaped Bianca's beautiful eyes despite desperately trying to fight them.

Adore felt so, so guilty. She didn't want to hurt Bianca, a person she loved dearly. She'd have to try to eat, for Bianca, even if it hurt. Adore nodded.

"Alright. I'll do it."

But then she just couldn't force herself to. In fact, she was getting so worked up, she started to panic. Her chest became tight and breathing properly was therefore nearly impossible. It was getting so hard her body went full on panic mode, and she started dry heaving. Bianca reacted very quickly, asking for permission to touch Adore in a calm, collected voice. The last thing the younger queen needed was seeing how much it actually affected Bianca. When she was given the permission, she proceeded to open Adore's dress. She couldn't really take it off because of Adore's current state, but what she definitely had to get off was the cincher. Constricting the younger queen's airways it in fact had to come off immediately.

She was really surprised though, when Adore made a protesting sound. Bianca decided Adore's well being was the first priority, so she took off the cincher, already sensing what could be the issue. She still wanted to make sure the younger queen was alright.

"What's wrong baby?" Adore's head felt really weird and she couldn't quite form a coherent sentence.

"..hog body.." Adore tensed up once more and almost started hyperventilating. Not good, it would raise her temperature even more.

"Fuck. Okay baby, deep breaths for me. Great job. Now hold it." Bianca counted to three. "Okay now exhale. Well done."

She did this with the younger queen for a couple of minutes until Adore was almost fully there again. Bianca decided it was time to fully de drag the younger queen.

She started by taking off the wig, carefully setting it aside and gently pulling off the fake lashes before grabbing her fancy makeup wipes. The makeup came off immediately. Adore didn't say a word during the procedure, she was probably too exhausted. Getting off the dress was awkward because Bianca didn't think Adore could stand up long enough. She somehow got it off though, and then proceeded to put an oversized shirt on the younger queen.

She didn't want to give her anything warm as Adore was burning up already. Bianca tried to figure out what to say next as she didn't want to freak out Adore once more.

"Baby I'm sorry, but you have to eat something now." Her words were firm but gentle and caring at the same time. Adore just nodded, no energy left to fight in her.

"Why do you care so much?"

"Because I love you, you stupid bitch."

"Love you too, but there's something else.”

"I'll tell you when you're eating, deal?"

Adore sighed softly. "Deal."

Bianca unwrapped a protein bar. She just hoped it would be enough so Adore could take her medicine. Also, she would not actually give the bar to Adore. People with eating disorders could be so damn sneaky. Or well, at least the younger queen had used some questionable methods to get out of eating.

Adore was too tired to sit up, so she just put her head in Bianca's lap and closed her eyes. She just wanted this day to be fucking over.

"Open up, baby." Adore very reluctantly did as she was told. In her exhausted state, she couldn’t even bring herself to explain that she was, in fact, capable of eating on her own.

A small piece of a protein bar was put into her mouth. She tried to focus on anything else but the fact that she was eating, her mind screaming vile, disgusting things at her. Swallowing hurt as well as her throat was completely raw at this point, dry and irritated, and that combined with her body having run on empty for a while now almost made her gag. Adore winced and Bianca gently shushed her and made her drink some water.

"Tell me the other reason now, please. I need distraction.”

Bianca nodded.

"Alright. I used to know a queen."

A faint smile tugged on her lips, remembering her fondly. Bianca used this opportunity to feed Adore some more of the bar.

"One of the kindest people on earth, honestly.

I'm talking like showing up hours before a gig, helping people drag and de drag, comforting others, giving them motivational speeches, you get the point.”

“Kind of like you.”

“Oh shut up.”

“Anyway, so, the weird thing was, her dresses never seemed to fit her for more than a couple of weeks, and she never went out to eat with us. It was seriously odd, but neither of us wanted to confront her about it. We were young and immature, so we probably thought her problem would go away if we didn't acknowledge it. Well it obviously didn't. One day she was acting strange, but she was such a brilliant liar, we all thought it wasn't anything serious."

Another piece was put into the younger queen's mouth. Bianca absentmindedly stroked Adore's head.

"And then the day after she just didn't show up to the gig. We of course canceled it as we knew something wasn't alright at all. When we got inside her apartment, we found her there laying on the ground, unconscious. Her body had been eating at her heart which..well..killed her.”

A single tear made it's way down Bianca's cheek. She quickly fed Adore the last piece. Adore wanted to day something, but decided it wasn't the right timing, plus she had to fight her emotions as well. The story really hit close to home, and had actually scared her. Could that possibly happen to her as well..?  

"And that day I promised myself I can't let that happen to anyone else I care about. Not like this, and especially you. I love you so, so much and I can't lose you baby."

Adore was touched by those words and bubbly hot tears were running down her cheeks. She tried to sit up to hug Bianca but she didn't have enough strength to do so and just collapsed back. Bianca frowned.

"Don't try to move on your own right now. Do you want to sit up?" Adore gave her a nod, and Bianca gently pulled the younger queen into a sitting position, putting some pillows behind her so Adore could lean against something. They shared a relatively short but comforting hug, which pretty much used the last bit of the younger queen’s energy, but it had absolutely been worth it.

"Okay, now you really need to take something." Adore simply opened her mouth and allowed the older queen to put the pills and some awful tasting liquid in her mouth, and help her drink some water.

Adore was terribly exhausted, in pain and on top of that she now had to fight the negative voices telling her how terrible she had been for eating. The older queen immediately saw the change in the younger’s eyes. They were sparkling with tears but the color of them was darker and somehow dull as if their usual light had left them.

Bianca cupped Adore's face in her hands, being very careful about not touching her injured ear.

"Adore look at me. I'm really proud of you. I love you. Don't listen to whatever your head is telling you because it's lying. I promise you're not alone in this, I'll do everything I can to help you. I just want you to be okay."

Although Adore could not really believe those words, they felt good. She smiled. It was a tiny, but genuine smile.

"Thank you B. For everything. I love you too. So much. Thank you for not giving up on me."

“I would never.”

Adore's head dropped after her statement, a clear signal of her body needing rest. Bianca helped Adore lay down, making sure she was as comfortable as possible before switching off the light and laying down next to the younger queen, so they were facing each other. Bianca wrapped her arms around Adore who was still shivering. Usually touch helped the younger queen because it made her feel safe and made her feel like she was loved. Which she was of course. But the entire day had taken such a toll on her body and mind that some in her decided that feeling was suddenly overrated.

She couldn't feel Bianca's touch. What was wrong with her? She let out a small panicked sound, completely overwhelmed with the entire situation. Bianca could feel Adore's heartbeat get faster. She had to calm her down in any way she could. The younger queen needed rest so badly. She quickly turned on the light again.

"What's wrong? Are you in pain?"

"I-I can't feel anything anymore. H-help me.”

Adore sounded broken. She started clawing at her arms, nails digging into her skin, leaving angry red marks, a desperate attempt to just feel something, anything.

To say that this freaked Bianca out was an understatement. She quickly tried to pull away Adore's hands to keep her from hurting herself. But, of course, luck didn’t seem to be on their side. The younger queen was in such a deep state of panic her muscles locked up, leaving her unable to move. This meant that she kept hurting her skin with her nails. At this point, even Bianca felt helpless, however, she was determined to help Adore, no matter what. Taking a few deep breaths, she calmed herself down enough to think somewhat rational.

Gently, she began to rub Adore’s hands, trying to get the muscles to relax again. While the younger queen could probably not feel this, maybe her body would still respond. After a while it seemed to have worked and the younger queen’s death grip loosened.

"Don't ever do that again, baby. You're too precious to hurt yourself. We'll figure it out, I promise, but self harm is never the solution.”

Bianca suddenly remembered that applying cold things, for example cool packs, were supposed to calm you down if you put them on the inside of your wrist. It would be worth a try. Or at the very least less damaging than straight up self harm. As a drag queen she always had some of them with her, because, let's face it, drag hurts. She explained her idea to Adore and then hurried up to get said items.

The ice and its freezing sensation seemed to help a bit. Adore still wasn't able to really feel anything, but that tiny glimpse she got from the ice was enough to calm her down. She didn't really understand why this was even happening to her and that was scary.

But at the same time, knowing she didn't have to deal with all of it alone was really comforting. Bianca would be there for her at all times, just as she would be there for the older queen. They were so different, but their relationship just worked. The love they had for each other was something both of them would cherish forever, no matter what hardships they would have to face.

With that thought she finally was able to fall asleep in Bianca's embrace, just knowing she was safe, loved, protected and everything would be okay.

[jewelthomasson]

Art Reading Response:

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⭐️Summary of Emerge pages:

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🔸Ideas~pages 56-66:

In this section of emerge, Perini discusses the topic of ideas. Ideas are what change the world he states, which is definitely true!(56). Ideas come from everything and anything at anytime (57). But most of our ideas come from us being in a alpha state (57). A state where someone can be in a place of relaxation and peaceful wakefulness (57). Then Perini talked about through what we generate our ideas, he stated that it is from ideation (58). He goes to tell how thinking in the alpha state isn’t the only way to come up with ideas; someone needs to purposefully set time aside to think (58). And through this we learned that coming up with these ideas can only happen when we start our endeavors (58). Meaning procrastination will get us NO WHERE. And through coming up with ideas by actively starting projects we need to let whatever we were working on to sit so that our brain can take a break (59). This will help generate new ideas as the worker has to bring their mind to a refocus to start back up on the project.

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🤔My Thoughts:

I think that this was very interesting to see that there is a specific name of where our ideas come from. The hardest part for me in this chapter was when Perini tells that we have to start on our projects in order to get ideas flowing. This is often so very hard sometimes because I put whatever off; and in the back of my mind I’m thinking, “I’ll have some good idea later.” And guess what?! Often I —don’t. This can be so very difficult and stressful at times. But as hard as it is I know I have to start my projects at some point. So, now I’m going to try to go into these projects wholeheartedly with the mindset that I can think of anything because I am not procrastinating and I truly want those good ideas.

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🔸Master~pages 81-87:

In the master section of the emerge book Perini helps the reader understand how to master certain goals people have. He first states how nothing can come of anything if you don’t work (78). He then talks about how dreams are good, they help spark something in us, but if they aren’t acted upon then nothing comes from them (78). He states that mastery comes from experience; and as we master different things in life more doors will open (81). Overall, there are 3 stages of talent development (84). “#1 developing and interest in a field or domain” (84). “#2 honing technical skills in your field of domain” (84). And #3 mastery and artistry in your field or domain (84). And then Perini states how we can achieve all those things. He states that if we put in 10,000 hours of work with purpose, in whatever we want to succeed at, then we will become the master of that (84).

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🤔My thoughts:

The concept of mastery is hard for me to wrap my brain around. Sure I want to be really good at certain things but, to me I rather be good at a lot of little things. Rather than be a master at maybe one thing. Does that just sound too lazy? I don’t know, but being a master at something sounds like way to much work. Like almost unappealing. I feel like if I committed to something to master it then I could potentially lose the love to do it. Maybe I’m just thinking this way because I haven’t truly tried to master something. But overall, right now it just seems kinda intimidating...😬

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🔸Messiness~pages 100-107:

Overall, this chapter about messiness just goes to show that messiness can bring great break throughs for creatives. Perini states how fear paralyzes us (99). We come from a world where if you don’t win you fail or lose. But this isn’t the case for creatives. “Creatives view failure as a win-learn” (99). This can help the creative process because then one can be more open and not scared to fail. He states how if you are not willing to fail then how can you create anything new?(102). This is so true because artists are always revising and making things better by learning from mistakes. So with that—art is messy. Life can be—messy. But that’s not a bad thing.

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🤔My thoughts:

I personally love this section. I love learning from my mistakes! That is how I know I am actually growing and learning. With that, I completely related with Perini when he talked about how art is messy. For me, personally, my first draft to anything creative is always super rough. Sometimes it won’t even look like the picture/image I was going for, but it’s a the start that helps me create my final product. Without that first messy step my whole process for the whole piece would be thrown off. So I need my messy failures. It truly helps me create my greatest works.

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🔸Habit~pages 108-116:

This section talked about how to form effective habits. Perini states how we need to make habits making habits (109). Habits are good for our life and minds. Through this chapter Perini walks the reader through 7 steps to creating good habits. #1 create triggers. Triggers help us to take the thinking out of performing takes because they are an automatic occurrence (111). # 2 create rewards. By rewarding ourselves habits become more fun and enjoyable to do—which makes us want to use that habit again (112). #3 visualize. With those first two in mind we need to be able to visualize ourselves actually doing the habit so we know that it’s a realistic habit to strive towards (112). #4 add a village member. This simply means that it can be easier to make a habit effective if someone can keep you accountable (112). #5 repetition. By using repetition the habit can truly be formed because your telling your body to not stop and keep moving forward (113). #6 believe. Honestly, if you don’t have this one it all kinda goes out the window because if you don’t believe in yourself then why go to the trouble to make a habit that won’t be effective? And the last one, #7 renew the mind. This one holds everything together because as we renew our mind all of the others fall into place creating a healthy habit.

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🤔My thoughts:

For me this was very helpful because often I find myself needing to create better habits just to make my life easier. The step that’s always really hard for me is the repetition one. Sometimes it can be very hard for me to stay motivated to do something I believe is best for me. Sometimes I don’t have to do much to be committed to a healthy habit but other times it seems like the hardest thing ever is to make my bed. Like why? It’s so easy. But that lack of motivation can seem to override it all. I think this is partly because I generally just skip the reward aspect. I think I can just be committed because if I think I can. But in reality I need those rewards to at least get me started. Wow this chapter just made me realize that. Huh 🤔 I guess I really need to read this today. Thanks Tina 😂

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⭐️Summary of the video, “The Habits of Effective Artists:”

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The video starts with the speaker sharing a personal anecdote of how he made a bet with his younger cousin. This bet completely relied on creativity. The bet was to receive 1,000 likes on his art station. And if he succeeded he would get nothing, but if he did not hold up his end then he would have to give $1,000 to his cousin. He put himself through this to get motivated because he would of had something to lose. He then gives 7 habits that the world class professionals use. #1 is daily work. We need to work on whatever we want to, to achieve a skill in everyday life. This will only be beneficial if the skill can be worked on everyday so that one can make a habit to achieve that skill they want. #2 volume not perfection. Being a perfectionist hinders because you are focused solely on specific things your doing; but if you do volumes of work then you can potentially close that gap of certain struggles. #3 steal. Our human brains are always built upon things before it. If you steal from one person then it’s plagiarism if you steal from many then it’s original because it’s a new complication of work. #4 conscious learning. Not everything is practice. Mindless learning is often bad because most mindless work doesn’t show progression. #5 rest. When removed from the art work you can have new ideas and see that things from new vantage points. #6 get feedback. Artists seek feedback from anyone. And this is often shown as one of the most crucial/important parts that can strengthen the art work. By having people express what ever they are feeling no matter how harsh the advice can be, receiving that feedback can help make the art great. #7 create what you love. By creating what you are personally interested and can make the work thrive in the best way. Overall, you’ll make better work because you have drive to complete what ever you want.

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🤔What I thought about the video, “The Habits of Effective Artists:”

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I found this video very insightful for how to truly become successful as an artist. I now have better knowledge of how I can strengthen my skills as an artist. For me it’s odd, I feel like I don’t normally follow along with any of these seven things listed. Which tells me that I need to start creating better habits to help my overall creative process. I’m glad he made this video because if I hadn’t of watched this I probably wouldn’t have known I needed to change. This video has really opened my eyes to see how being a good artist is about process. Up until now, sure I knew that, but for the most part I thought that people are just born with it. But now I realize that to achieve anything creative you need to cultivate good habits so that overall you can flourish in the art realm.

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📸Image above:

[minttoy]

Daylight (Ch 3)

CHAPTER THREE

Summary: “She spent so much time counting her days. Finally, she sees her future clear as daylight.” - Linhardt helps Lysithea survive more than the war.

Pairings: Linhardt/Lysithea

Click here to read on FF.net.

Click here to read on AO3.

----------

Weeks later, she’s still flipping through the days. Some passages are easier to read and few of them trigger difficult memories. It’s a blessing she cannot recall most of the things written in these pages.

Lysithea must look particularly haggard this morning, because Professor Hanneman waltzes into the room and starts the day with a peculiar joke.

“Are you and Linhardt married, by any chance?” he asks, a smirk dancing on his lips.

She’s tired and has no energy to vehemently deny it. “No.”

He’s hardly fazed. “Engaged, perhaps? Promised to one another?”

She shakes her head. “Neither.”

“Oh, but there’s something there, correct? The two of you seem to enjoy each other’s company.”

She does not remember Hanneman being this nosy. Perhaps Professor Manuela has been rubbing off him. “There is nothing between us,” she says, the words rolling lazily off her tongue. “We are not married, nor engaged, nor promised. We don’t talk about kids, or money, or growing old together. None of that.”

Poor logic at its finest, but she’s willing to admit it escapes her temporarily.

“Can I safely assume you two are not sleeping together?”

She startles, spilling a portion of her teacup as she brings it to her lips. “Excuse me?”

“Hmm.” He scratches his beard. “I suppose not.”

Lysithea hisses as she registers the burn from the still-hot tea water.

“Is there a point to this?” she inquires, holding back none of her irritation. With a sleeve, she wipes off a stain from the front of her shirt.

He shrugs loosely. “Perhaps.”

His response incites a harsh glare from the girl, but it does not last long. She reaches for her handkerchief across the table to pat down her skirt.

“This is highly inappropriate, especially from a man of your stature. I would appreciate if you were more respectful and unassuming of my relationships,” she says distractedly. “We share common goals and interests. There’s nothing beyond that.”

The suggestion was never meant to sound romantic, but she realizes in hindsight how it can be interpreted as such. Hanneman knows it too and raises her a brow.

“Linhardt is my apprentice and I know him very well,” he starts. “Believe me when I say I have never seen him more committed to anything than he is to you, my dear.”

She peers up at him briefly, and then back down to the soiled handkerchief in her hands. It’s easier to focus on other things when her face is flushed pink.

Hanneman continues, “I know what it takes to renounce one’s nobility – I’ve committed the act myself a long time ago. You give up almost everything. The people you call family, inheritance, prestige and status, the place you consider home, even a bit of yourself...” He shakes his head solemnly. “…it’s unfortunate. Despite all of that, at the end of the day, you are still the selfish one.”

Her gaze is trained to the wooden table, but she’s listening.

“My point is, I am certain Linhardt sacrificed much to be here.”

She blinks twice and looks up. “What are you insinuating?”

Her inquiry is blunt, but it’s not meant to accuse or invoke tension. The entire exchange has her squirming in her seat, even if he’s only protecting him.

“I am simply curious of his motivations,” the older man explains, meeting her gaze. “That boy is difficult to inspire and persuade, and I’ve seen it firsthand. I thought maybe you’ve done something to fuel his sudden ambition.”

She narrows her eyes. “I always assumed he took this up on his own volition, but I’m also willing to admit it’s a little far-fetched. If you’re wondering about monetary incentives, I’m not paying him or doing him any favours.”

“I never even wondered such a thing.”

She considers the idea once more. “…is it something I should be thinking about?”

“Heavens I hope not, or I would be sorely disappointed,” he scoffs.

“So what is it then?”

“You tell me.” Hanneman arches a single brow and presses further, “You said yourself the nature of your relationship is strictly business. Nothing personal beyond your collegiate partnership. Isn’t that right?”

Lysithea processes the complicated thought and attempts understanding for herself, wondering why this conversation keeps circling back on itself. The reason she keeps finding herself here.

Why do I feel like running.

She crumbles underneath his sharper gaze. “…that’s right.”

He leans back in his seat. “What’s your take on it?”

The question lingers.

“I don’t know,” she tells honestly, after a pause.

Silence envelopes them briefly.

“My apologies, child. I don’t mean to push you.” His gloved hand goes to her shoulder, and when she chances a second glance, his gaze is visibly softer. “It just warms this old man’s heart to see two of his students here at the monastery. There hasn’t been this much excitement since…well, a long time.”

She sighs, “Do you have to be so meddlesome?”

He feigns an affronted expression. “Can you blame a researcher for inquiring? I was simply…stating my observations, if you will. Did it come off as imposing? Forgive me.” His lips tug to a small smirk under his moustache. Unapologetic, despite what he says. “I admit. Occasionally I delight in wishful thinking. You see, Linhardt reminds me of my younger self. Fascinated with crestology, how it shapes the world’s foundation and transforms the individuals within it. Regrettably, I missed things because of it. The more I devoted myself to research, the more other dreams slipped further from my reach.”

Lysithea frowns and raises a brow.

“Before I pass from this world, it would give me great gratification to know he pursued such dreams. This applies for you as well, actually. Chase your ambitions, but don’t skip on life. You should get married, take care of each other, and have children. Research is its own reward, but I believe there are greater, more joyful things in life. Take this as advice from your old teacher and mentor.”

“Your advice is oddly specific,” she points out.

He laughs, characteristically barky, but jolly nonetheless. “I expect an invitation to your wedding when it comes.”

She breathes a lengthy exhale and loses her patience. Hasty, she downs the remainder of the hot tea and gathers her papers in her arms.

“That’s enough. I am done indulging in your strange and improbable fantasies–”

“Improbable? I beg to differ.”

“–I have little time as it is! We need to get back to work.”

He smirks at her attempt at scolding. Young, impulsive and puppy-like. A coping mechanism, he realizes. He indulges her anyway, gathering a portion of her file and adjusting his monocle.

“As you wish, my dear.”

----------

Lysithea is in the middle of bookmarking old texts when she hears it. A small gasp, barely even an audible breath, in the midst of the crest analyzer’s machinal sounds. She peers to the side to investigate the small commotion, observing the subtleties in Linhardt’s bare expression.

“What is it?”

He swallows hard and stares with furrowed brows. “This sample, it’s…crestless.”

His lack of energy casts a measure of doubt, but she strides over anyway. Wordlessly, he hands her the glass slide containing a drop of her blood and she runs it through the analyzer herself.

She waits.

Nothing.

No symbols appears before her.

No Charon.

No Gloucester.

No crest.

The blood is pure.

She feels her stomach drop. Her knees grow weak. She pans over to green-haired man, who jots down notes with a nonchalant flair. For someone who just reached his first real breakthrough, he is severely lacking in enthusiasm. Perhaps it’s the exhaustion.

“What does this mean?” she asks.

“It means we’re moving in the right direction,” he says blandly, not looking up.

She blinks at his aloofness, wondering what goes on in that tired and brilliant mind.

Linhardt finishes writing, flips the book shut and yawns into his hand. He finds her muddled expression.

“I’m not satisfied just yet,” he explains quietly. “On the bright side, it seems the formula I used on this particular sample yields promising results. I’m willing to test it on others to ensure it has the same effectiveness.”

He’s withholding himself, it seems. Saving the joy until the work is finished.

“I could draw more blood,” she offers, matching his tone.

He gives her a sheepish frown. She hides bruised arms under her sleeves.

“Please and thank you.”

She turns on her heel, and he catches her wrist when he realizes what she’s doing.

“It can wait until later. You’re tired,” he says. “I have to compound the serum again anyway, which will take time.”

He offers her a smile and she returns it.

----------

The three of them continue to work on this breakthrough. Linhardt, after studying the entirety of her file, is approaching the research with a medical lens. It’s apparent her crests were introduced like toxins to the bloodstream. She either rejected the virus and died, or survived the implants, forcing her crests to co-exist in one body. He intends to remove it the same way, coming up with a formula to dissolve her crests, akin to an antibiotic treating bacteria and disease.

Hanneman almost forgets he’s a proficient healer, well-versed in medicine and its properties.

That’s how they got here. Linhardt sitting on a chair, visibly pale and nauseous, hesitating to offer his arm. He was the one who suggested it – he and Hanneman offering their own blood to the cause, and hoping the recipe can eliminate their crests as well.

“I’m ready. Give me your arm,” she says.

“Please be gentle. The sight of blood makes me uncomfortable.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’ve been working with blood for several months now.”

“That’s different. I dislike watching it spill from the body, especially my own. I should add that needles are frightening as well.”

She gives him an annoyed look, hoping it’s enough to get her message across.

“Do you want the sample or not?”

“I do.”

“Then get over it. It would have been done by now if you stopped whining.”

He takes another deep breath, closes his eyes and finally stretches his arm. As she rolls his sleeves up, another thought flashes and he whips back the limb.

“Linhardt!”

“I’m sorry. Please don’t poke hard. I’m lightheaded as it is.”

He’s pouting, the most childish he’s become as of late.

“If you stay still, it won’t hurt as much.”

He gives her a suspicious eye.

She decides to change tack, softens her gaze and bends down so they’re at eye level. “Hey, I’m good at this, remember? It’ll be quick. You can trust me. I’ve done it on myself several times already.”

The reminder is stinging and leaves with him little choice and room to complain. This time, he offers his arm without another word.

The process is seamless and efficient, just as she promised. His veins stand out against his pale skin and he doesn’t tense when she rubs alcohol on it. He looks away and holds his breath when she punctures his skin. For him, it seems like an eternity until the needle is finally removed, and replaced with the pressure of her fingers. He lets out a long sigh of relief, and sinks down in his seat as if he’s been through a terrible ordeal.

He finally has the courage to look up and finds a smirk on her face.

“What?” he asks.

She removes her gloves and pats his head like she’s proud of him. “Such a good boy. I knew you could do it.”

He scoffs, “I am not a child.”

She laughs, and tips her head to a box on the nearby table. “I got you sweet pastries from town as a reward. Do you want it or not?”

He lights up, betraying himself. He doesn’t think he’s enjoyed her company more. “Yes, please.”

----------

The next step is obvious: a trial.

They’ve agreed to everything so far, but now there are three branches of thought.

Linhardt prefers to experiment with other crest-containing blood samples, reasoning they lack a sample size worthy of definite conclusion.

Hanneman insists on keeping the research between the three of them. This experiment will not be approved in the eyes of people in power, except maybe Edelgard herself.

Lysithea is growing increasingly impatient. Many months have passed since she’s made the monastery her second home and she pushes for the trial herself.

After much hesitation and few heated debates, they agree to one trial. The infirmary is turned upside down. It takes an entire day to prepare the room and concoct the mixture. Beds are moved, shelves restocked and the space is nearly emptied. A plan is devised if things go awry and her body rejects the serum. They don’t have the luxury of test subjects, Lysithea being the only one.

For all the irony in the world, the procedure is alike to blood reconstruction surgery itself. Linhardt admits he took inspiration from the mages to devise the method.

“If you have discomfort, I need to know. You have a penchant for acting stronger than you feel,” he says rather bitterly.

She stops poking around her arm for a vein and glances at the green-haired scholar. Unusually tight-lipped, rigid features on his face and posture incredibly stiff. He’s handling his instruments with a chaotic energy, revealing a side of him that hardly surfaces. He’s irritable and exasperated, which is far from his usually lax demeanor. She’s only seen it a handful of times.

“You agreed to this,” she reminds, matching his tone.

He still cannot look her in the eye. “Not willingly.”

“Don’t start with me,” she warns, keeping her voice low. “We fought about this already.”

He shrugs with nonchalance, and from her perspective, it’s kind of infuriating.

“Hmm. I still think we should wait,” he says, just for the sake of reminding her.

She tries to smile, but it comes off sarcastic and phony. She wonders how apparent it is how much she wants to pull her hair out right now.

“Too late,” she says, knowing how petty it sounds. “It’s happening today.”

“You can still back down. I won’t blame you,” he offers again.

She shakes her head and counters with a firm and decisive, “No. I won’t do that.”

He heaves with frustration and finally looks down at her. She meets his intense blue glare with as much defiance she can muster.

“You’re being impossible. I’m starting wonder if you’re doing this to spite me,” he delivers harshly, in a way he’ll probably regret later. Afterwards, he mutters some excuse about retrieving something from the lab and leaves the room in a matter of seconds.

In the deafening silence that follows, she stares down at the floor, heart suddenly weak and eyes glassy. Her breath is shaky as it comes out. Just as she expects, the feeling of scorn quickly fades into nothing, leaving a pained and bleak disposition in its place. She rubs her eyes before she crumples into a sobbing mess. These recent spats all end the same way. Her coming up empty, instead of angry.

“This will mean nothing later,” Hanneman reassures, suddenly beside her. “Both of you are stubborn. You only fight because you care for each other. If it helps, try to remember what got you here in the first place.”

Her breaths even out slowly. “…I don’t want to fight anymore.”

He shrugs. “You have to work it out somehow. Waiting is safe, but there’s no use dallying and delaying progress either.”

“Am I being unreasonable?” she asks in a whisper.

Hanneman sucks in a breath, and contemplates for a moment.

“It’s…difficult to say. I’m sorry, child. I don’t have all the answers.”

They resume in silence. She tries to pretend it never happened and connects herself to the machine. Linhardt returns a few minutes later, all traces of hardness on his face gone.

She tries not to look his way, except when he stands in front of her.

Their expressions mirror each other; remorseful and apologetic.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers first.

She shakes her head. “It’s my fault. I’m the one pushing you.”

He dismisses it with a shrug. “We’re in this together.”

It eases few of her worries, enough to breathe easy. He gestures for her to take a seat so he can prime the infusion. She obliges without complaint.

“Tell me if you feel anything.”

“I will.”

After what seems like an eternity, it finally starts running. Linhardt gives her a quick onceover before taking the seat beside the professor, opening his book for notetaking.

Somehow, it feels like her last day on earth. She’s waited and dreamed of this since being told her days were numbered. Lysithea shakes her head, tries to throw off the memories.

Fifteen minutes in, there’s a sting in her arm where the needle is located. She tries not to hiss at the pain, but it becomes difficult to hide.

Hanneman sits up, the first to notice. “What’s wrong?”

She grits her teeth. “My arm is sore, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Linhardt stands, puts away his notebook. “We should stop it.”

“No! I can take it. This is–”

She stops as an abrupt, sharp pain sears the nerves up to her shoulder. It’s burning all of a sudden, and flaring with heat and spasm. Lysithea doesn’t scream, just a gasp and a choked-off cry, but somehow that makes it worse. She winces and folds in on herself.

He stops the machine and disconnects the tubing. That alone eliminates the sharp edge of the burn, but leaves a throbbing cramp in its wake. She collapses backwards in her seat, arm splayed limp beside her.

He’s giving her a look or reprimand, but as far as admonishments go, it’s a gentle one.

“Lysithea. This isn’t about being brave or strong. We only have one shot. If something happens to you, all of this would be for nothing,” he lectures softly, bending down to inspect for bruising or damage.

Hanneman hums in agreement and rises to stretch his arms. “The boy is right. Do not feel inclined to work beyond your limits. Our situation is risky enough as it is.”

She has no reason to get defensive. As far as she’s concerned, this is what she needs to hear. Beside her, she spies the faint glow of light. His magic is familiar to her now. She knows the feel of it: languid, light and listless. It induces a drowsy aftermath and she’s passed out from it before. It’s the work of his crest. Before she succumbs to its effects, she peers down at her partner.

“I really thought it would work,” she whispers, fighting the wave of exhaustion casted by the spell.

His gaze is surprisingly soft. “We’ll have to rework the formula,” he says quietly. Biting his lip, he casts his gaze down to her arm. “There’s a caustic burn on your skin. I’ll heal the nerves as best as I can, but I’m not sure about the scarring…”

She shrugs loosely. “It doesn’t matter.”

He says nothing back, watching as she enters a trance, wilting and slowly yielding to slumber.

“Can you be here when I wake up?” she asks, fighting off another yawn and blinking heavy eyelids.

He tilts his head to one side at the inquiry.

“Okay.”

It’s the last thing she hears before her vision goes blank.

----------

She’s plagued by nightmares, not waking until she’s seeing red and a silent scream is somehow working its way up her throat.

She lunges up from her bed, clutches the material in front of her chest and finds herself breathless. Her back is drenched with sweat and her hands are shaking. She stares blank at the window pane, catching sight of clouds filtering the light of the stars and moon. It casts a dark shadow upon the monastery and the surrounding forests. Slowly, the nightmare leaves her.

After that, she sighs. Lysithea looks down at her arms, one of them sporting an ugly reddened bruise and the other hooked up to a tube. Her gaze lazily flits upwards, finding herself linked to an assortment of fluids. Her head throbs wildly, more so than the fresh burn she acquired from the trial.

She’s alone, but hears the soft whirring of machinery across the hall. Mustering the strength to go, she drags the pole along with her and stops at the front of Hanneman’s office.

“You shouldn’t read in the dark,” she pipes up quietly. “It hurts your eyes.”

Linhardt startles and jerks lightly in the dim candlelight. He inhales deeply, and snaps his book shut.

“You should go back to sleep.”

She shakes her head. “Maybe later.”

He eyes her curiously, a long blue stare. “A nightmare, then.”

She shudders, and then absently presses her fingers against her throat where there’s a pulse. A cold shiver runs up her spine. Linhardt watches idly, staring into her eyes with question.

“It’s odd. I used to have nightmares about ghosts in my room, showing up late for class, or losing my teeth,” Lysithea starts softly, ignoring the constant thrumming in her head. “Nowadays, they’re more about feeling lonely, or losing control, or dying.”

He raises a brow. “Are you scared of dying?”

“I guess so,” she says, mild annoyance seeping through. She purses her lips, then shifts her gaze to the bookshelves. “It’s strange. I was going to die in those dungeons, and the only reason I didn’t was because I was so determined to see what life I could have outside of it, even if it meant surviving my crests. Gosh, I wanted to live so much, and still ended up dying.”

She says it with a hollow lightness, as if the whole thing can be a laughing matter. And then she’s shaking her head and rubbing her face.

“I’ve been counting my days ever since, and I’m sick of it. I’m so hopeless, and bitter, and lonely, and yet…I am still so, so terribly scared.”

Linhardt gazes with a rare tenderness. No words come to mind, so he says nothing.

Inevitably, there’s a long pause.

She drops her arms and unclenches her fists. Her expression is weary. “Do you have nightmares?”

He nods. “Occasionally. Mostly they are bloody visions of war – I wake up thinking I’m still in the throes of battle. To cheer myself up, I imagine myself lying down on a field of grass, in a place where I’m free to sleep, fish, or eat sweets whenever I please.”

She chuckles softly, “That sounds just like you.”

“Does your head hurt? I can help.”

“No, not right now. That magic of yours is like a sedative, and I…” She inhales and picks at her fingers, unsure how to say it. “I’d rather we just…stay, even for a short time.”

The air is so quiet and delicate she wants to bask in it. The lighting is dark, atmosphere thick but not stilted, and the whirring machinery drums like white noise. It’s just the two of them, but the silence is easy and comforting. They’ve let go of their posturing a long time ago. This is the most peace she’s felt in months.

This is what she means to say, even if he doesn’t get it.

He nods, and she’s grateful. Moving her metal pole in front of the sofa, she settles herself comfortably beside him and curls her legs underneath. He brushes off her earlier protest and picks up his book again, reading against the dim candlelight. Eventually she caves and tugs at his sleeve. Wordlessly, he settles the book in the middle so she can read for herself. The rest of the night is filled with silence.

He understands enough.

----------

[chuffyfan87]

Growing Pains. Part 14b

"Hey, you're OK. You're safe." Duffy reassured him softly.

Louis searched the room. It took him a few minutes to remember where he was.

"Do you want to talk about your dream?" Duffy asked gently.

“Found Katy dead.” Louis whispered.

"Katy?"

“Girl I met here.” Louis smiled sadly, “I had sex with her in exchange for heroin, we took it together. She was a friend of Tony’s. She had to leave... Dream about her sometimes.” He admitted quietly.

"Ah. Did you have feelings for her?"

“She was troubled, empty eyes.”

"Why did she have to leave?"

“It wasn’t working, her been here.” Louis said sadly.

"It will have been done to help her try to get better."

“I know.” Louis yawned and stretched.

"We should let you get back to what you were doing before we arrived. I'll speak to the doctor for you."

“I went for a run and then I had a shower and tidied. I’ll probably just sleep when you leave.”

"Have you not been sleeping much at night?"

“Some nights I really struggle with wanting to inject.” Louis admitted.

"That'll get easier with time. Do they have you on a substitute substance to ease you off?"

“Yeh, Methadone.”

"That will hopefully help."

“It does sometimes.”

"That's progress." She paused as the staff member from earlier reappeared at the door.

“It’s time to say bye now, isn’t it?” Louis asked the staff member sadly.

"That's right."

Louis hugged his parents goodbye, “Love you both. Thank you for coming to see me.”

"We'll see you again soon. Take care of yourself." Duffy replied as she hugged him tight.

“You too.” Louis kissed their cheeks before heading off back to his room. “Love you.” He called.

Duffy briefly spoke to the facility doctor before joining Charlie outside. She was deeply concerned by how quiet he was.

“Are you okay?” Charlie asked her quietly as they sat in the car.

"Yeh." She replied though now she was outside her hands were shaking slightly.

“That cant have been easy for you.” He placed his hand against her knee.

He could feel her leg tense under his hand.

“Talk to me?” He moved his hand from her knee.

"He's just a child." She mumbled.

“I know.”

"Where did I go wrong? I tried so hard to treat him just the same as the others." A tear trickled down her cheek.

He brushed away the tear, “This isn’t your fault. He said it himself, it just got complicated.”

"I started it all. I should have stayed away."

“I started all this, remember.”

"How'd you figure that out?"

“I chose to have an affair. It was me who had a choice to not marry Baz but still went ahead and did it, despite being in love with you.”

"But if I hadn't come back to Holby..."

“If you hadn’t, you’d be dead now.” He pointed out. “I didn’t realise how bad Louis’ thoughts were about you.”

"Maybe." She sighed. "I just keep going back over it all. Everything I've said... Everything I've done..."

“You’ve been amazing to him, Duffy. Seeing him asleep in your lap again, made me realise just how much of a child he really is. And how much he’d been doing this all alone.”

"How did we let it get to this?" She sighed.

“None of us are to blame for this."

"You could barely look at him in there."

“I almost lost it when he said...” Charlie swallowed.

"That he'd had thoughts of raping me?" She whispered.

Charlie nodded. “I wanted to kill him!” He whispered back.

"He doesn't know the true depth of what he said Charlie."

“Doesn’t he?”

"What do you mean? He doesn't know what happened in the past..."

“Do you believe him?” He asked quietly, “That he won’t hurt you?”

"He's your son. What other option do I have?"

“When I decided to visit, this wasn’t what I was expecting to be greeted with.” Charlie paused, “I feel he’s genuinely sorry for what he’s done.”

"So do I." She reached for his hand. "What were you expecting?"

“A moody teenager, still pretending he didn’t have a problem.”

"He's making progress."

Charlie nodded and squeezed her hand, “He is.”

They fell into a slightly more comfortable silence as Charlie drove them home. As soon as they arrived back inside Duffy headed for the stairs. "I'm going to run a bath." She mumbled before dashing up the stairs.

Before he could follow her to make sure she was OK Charlie was railroaded by the twins.

"We need to talk to you dad." Tilly insisted.

Charlie watched as his wife headed up the stairs before turning back to the twins. “What’s wrong princesses?” He asked as he tucked a strand of hair behind Lottie and Tilly’s ears.

"What's going on with mum? She's acting all weird and it's got to stop." Lottie replied.

“What do you mean honey?”

"First she let Beth stay over loads and then she let Sarah move in. She said it was only for a few days til she got things sorted but it's been almost a month now. At this rate she'll still be here when the baby comes!" Lottie explained.

"Is that her plan? To get herself another baby?" Tilly added.

“What? No girls.” He sighed softly, “Your mum’s helping Sarah because Sarah doesn’t have anywhere else to go. It’s not to get herself another baby.” He reassured.

"This place is quickly turning into the house of waifs and strays!" Tilly complained.

He chuckled, “Tots! Be nice, not everyone is as lucky as you to have a loving family.”

Tilly rolled her eyes.

"Its not just people either. I heard her talking to Holly the other day about a pair of abandoned kittens!" Lottie remarked, throwing her arms up dramatically.

“When you were younger, all you and Tilly wanted was a cat. Do you not want one anymore?”

"That's not the point!" Lottie retorted.

“It’s who your mum is, Lottie. She cares.”

"Where does it end though dad? She's gunna start bringing patients home with her at this rate!"

“Don’t give her any ideas.” Charlie laughed softly, “I’ll talk to your mum ok, girls?” He kissed their noses.

"While you're talking to her can you tell her to tell Krystal to put some clothes on before leaving Jake's room next time!" Tilly requested, pulling a face.

“Did you get an eyeful?”

"Yeh and its not the first time!"

“I will mention it to your mum. Anything else I should mention?”

"We're just worried about her. She seems different recently." Lottie sighed.

“I know sweetheart, I worry too. Ok?” He kissed both their foreheads, “I’ll go and talk to her now.”

"Thanks dad. She might listen to you."

“I can only hope.” He went upstairs to their bedroom.

The bathroom door was closed but the sound of sloshing water could be heard from the other side as well as the occasional sob.

“Sweetheart, can I come in?”

Upon hearing his voice Duffy began to cry harder.

“Babe?”

She didn't reply but after checking the handle and realising it was unlocked he cautiously, slowly, opened the door.

Her skin was bright red, both from the heat of the near boiling water she sat in and the way she'd been ferociously scrubbing at herself since she'd gotten in the bath.

Without saying anything, Charlie got into the bath with her fully clothed. He placed his hands over hers to stop herself from hurting herself another more. “You’re not dirty.” He whispered.

She tried to pull away but she lacked the strength to fight. Her skin had broken and started to bleed on her thighs.

“Look at me?” He said gently.

"I..." She ran her fingers along the open wounds.

He gently lifted her chin up and held her gaze. “You are not dirty.”

"Its my fault." She mumbled.

“No it’s not.”

"It has to be something I've done. No other reason makes sense." She insisted.

“You haven’t done anything!” He protested, “None of this is your fault!”

"I've found myself here countless times."

“And every time you fight the same demons that try and drown you.”

"The only common factor is me."

“It’s not because of you.”

She curled herself up, drawing her knees to her chest, suddenly realising how exposed she was. She'd been careful not to let her husband see the devastating effect her fast spiralling eating problems were having upon her once more.

“You need help.” He said gently. “How about we go back to the therapist?”

"No!" She pulled away from his arms and moved out of the bath, grabbing a towel and quickly wrapping it around herself before fleeing the room.

“You need to, baby. We can’t go on like this anymore, you can’t.”

"One tiny relapse and you want me back in therapy?! No!" She argued from the bedroom as Charlie removed his soaked clothes so he could dry off.

“A tiny relapse?!” He replied, “There’s nothing tiny about it!”

"There's nothing wrong with me!" She yelled.

“Yes there is.”

"No there isn't!"

“You’re skin and bone!” He replied.

"Hardly. Don't exaggerate!"

“I’m not exaggerating.” He sighed, “I know you’ve been abusing laxatives.”

"What?! I don't know what you're talking about!"

“You’re not ok, gorgeous.”

"I'd like to know where you get off throwing baseless accusations around..!"

He sighed, “I’m not. I know you’re not ok.”

"I'm fine. I'm completely in control and don't need you fussing and accusing me of all sorts."

“No you’re not fine! You’re skin and bone and you’ve just been scrubbing your skin red raw in the bath!”

"I don't want to talk about this."

“Because I’m getting to close to the truth?”

[ghostofviperwrites]

Eye Black

Requested by: @littlemissvillanous

Pairing:   Evil/FC

Category:   Smut

Word Count: 1348

Warnings: Language, thigh riding, mentions of punishment and spanking

5.            “This is your fault”

Perched on the counter top in the locker room bathroom my hands were shaking causing me to take a deep breath in an attempt to study my nerves.  It didn’t help that Evil, who was in the chair in front of me, his thick muscular thighs (that I wasn’t thinking about at all) trapped between my feet, was glaring at me as if he was picturing tearing me limb from limb.  

Everyone knew Evil preferred to do his own eye makeup. The fact he was being forced to let me do it had him in a surly mood.  Evil in a surly mood meant he wasn’t doing a damn thing to make this easier on me, including making me sit on the counter rather than stand in front of him.  I was glad all I had to do was his two eyes and then I could get the hell out of here.  Nothing complicated I told myself scooting forward a bit trying not to notice my knees were now pressed against his chest or that his eyes dropped and he made no attempt to hide the fact he was staring down my shirt.  

Grabbing the blank smudge paint I dipped my brush in and covered it before reaching at his chin and titling his head back up.  I immediately wished I hadn’t had to do that as his glare was once again focused on me making my hand shake as I brought it to his right eye.   Just as I made the first swipe Evil spread his legs knocking my feet making my knee jar my elbow and making a long thick black swipe from Evil’s cheek and up into his hair.   I gasped as I looked at the ugly mark as Evil snarled. 

“This is exactly why I didn’t want you touching me,” He snapped grabbing my wrist in his hand and holding it painfully as I struggled to pull it free.  I winced as that only resulted in him tightening his grip. 

“This is your fault!” I yelled right back.  “You moved those thick ass thighs of yours and hit my legs.”  

I bit my lip wishing I had worded that just a bit better as Evil’s eyebrow arched and a smirk lifted the corner of his lips.

“You like my thick ass thighs do you?”  He asked with amusement releasing my hand that I quickly retracted.

“I didn’t say I liked them. I just…well look at them.  It would be impossible not to notice that they’re thick.”  I trailed off, swallowing hard as I looked down at those thighs I was trying so hard not to notice. Encased in those little singlet shorts, all golden skin on display.  

“Fix your mistake.”  Evil said motioning to his face and I breathed a sigh of relief that I was off the hook.  Carefully I put makeup remover on a cotton pad and swiped away the paint until his skin was glistening and clean.  

I certainly wasn’t expecting his hands to grab my waist and pull me off the counter, making me straddle his right leg.   My heart was in my throat at the immediate effect his thigh pushing against my core had.  I could feel his muscles through my thin shorts and there was no denying the heat building in my stomach. 

My eyes slowly rose to meet his, staring into the dark depths that gave me no clue as to his thoughts.  Silently he leaned forward his shoulder pressing into my chest as he grabbed the paint and brush off the counter behind me before placing them in my hand. 

“If you mess up again I’m going to punish you.”  He said solemnly making my breath whoosh out.  “I will bend you over this counter and turn that pretty ass of yours red.  Do you understand?” 

I slowly nodded staring back at him with wide eyes and parted lips, the thought of jumping off his lap and running screaming never crossing my mind.   Tentatively I raised the brush towards his face determined not to give him a reason to spank me when his hands grabbed on my hips and I froze, eyes flying to his with questions swimming in them. 

“Don’t stop,” He commanded.  “I’m going to give you what you want, but you can’t mess up.  You do and I’m going to have to punish you.”   Slowly his hands began gyrating my hips, forcing my core to rub along the corded muscle of his thigh.  I immediately gasped as pleasure shot through me, juices starting to flow as he ground me down on his leg.

“I…I can’t,” I stuttered, mewling as my body slid along.  

“Do your fucking job.”  He snapped, the fingers on my hip tightening, digging into my flesh as he rocked me harder.  

Shaking my head in a futile attempt to focus I raised the brush once again trying to ignore the heat building in me as my panties quickly dampened.   I made the first stroke under his eye, pleased that it went well despite the trembling in my hands.  A sudden increase in speed had my hands flying to his shoulder for balance, thankfully avoiding getting any paint on his skin as I’m sure that would have gotten me the promised spanking.  Instead he pulled my hips down, getting me flusher with his leg and resumed the almost frenetic sliding he had started.  

“Your pussy is soaking my thigh.”  He said casually as I added a bit more paint before grabbing a cotton pad.  I was trying so hard to focus, the heat between my legs nearly impossible to ignore as were his words.   I carefully smudged his eye black as my free hand held onto his shoulder for balance.  Leaning back to get a good look I groaned as Evil tilted my hips forward so my clit hit directly on his legs, quick pants leaving my lips as I struggled to force the paint brush over to his left eye.  

I don’t know how I did it, but somehow I got through painting the second eye, smudging it and making sure it matched the right eye before dropping the brushes to the floor and gripping Evil’s shoulders.   My face went into his neck as I rode his thigh, Evil’s hands dropping to the side as he watched me fuck myself on his leg.   With a loud scream muffled in his neck I climaxed, my body shaking as I trembled against him.  

Slowly he lifted me off, standing me on my feet to his side then looking at himself in the mirror.  I waited anxiously as he inspected the job I had done on his eyes, the frown on his face growing by the second and I the bottom drop out of my stomach as I waited his castigation.  

“It’ll do.”  He said flatly, disappointment clear in his tone.  It took a moment to register what he said and when it did I nearly fainted in relief.  I had been so sure he would find fault that I wasn’t expecting the backhanded compliment.  

“Why do you sound so disappointed?”  I couldn’t help but ask as I knelt down at his side to pick up the brushes and paint I had dropped. 

“I wanted to spank you.”  He admitted staring down at me with those deep dark eyes.  “I wanted to turn your ass black and blue so you couldn’t sit for a week without being reminded of what I did to you.  And when I was done with your ass I was going to put you on your knees, much like you are right now, and bury my cock down your throat.”

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him as I rose to my feet, heart pounding.  Despite everything I had done, how hard I had concentrated to get his eyes just right to avoid that spanking I couldn’t stop myself for reaching my fingers out and dragging them along the black paint under his eyes and smearing it across his face. 

“Oops.”