#when i have enough energy to not be completely exhausted by the whole world

[pibsboots]

I've always had chronic fatigue. I remember being twelve, and an adult mentioned how I couldn't possibly know how tired they felt because adulthood brought levels of exhaustion I couldn't imagine. I thought about that for days in fear, because I couldn't remember the last time I didn't feel tired.

Eventually I came to terms with the fact that I was just tired, and I couldn't do as many things as everyone else. People called me lazy, and I knew that wasn't true, but there's only so many times you can say "I'm tired" before people think it's an excuse. I don't blame them. When a teenager does 20 hours of extracurriculars every week and only says "I'm too tired" when you ask them to do the dishes, it's natural to think it's an excuse. At some point, I started to think the same thing.

It didn't matter that I could barely sit up. It was probably all in my head, and if I really wanted to, I could do it.

When I learned the name for it, chronic fatigue, I thought wow, people that have that must be miserable, because I am always tired and I cannot imagine what it would feel like if it were worse.

Spoiler alert, if you've been tired for a decade, it's probably chronic fatigue.

Once I figured that out though, I thought of my energy as the same as everyone else's, just smaller in quantity. And that might be true for some people, but I've figured out recently that it absolutely isn't true for me.

I used to be like wow I have so much energy today I can do this whole list for sure! And then I'd do the dishes and have to lay down for 2 hours. Then I'd think I must gave misjudged that, I didn't have as much energy as I thought.

But the thing is - I did have enough energy for more tasks, I just didn't go about them properly.

With chronic fatigue, your maximum energy is obviously much smaller than the average person's. Doing the dishes for you might use up the same percentage of energy that it takes to do all the daily chores for someone else.

If someone without chronic fatigue was to do all the daily chores, they would take breaks. Because otherwise, they're sprinting a marathon for no reason and it would take way more energy than necessary. We have to do the same.

Put the cups in the dishwasher, take a break. Put the bowls in, take a break. So on and so forth. This may mean taking breaks every 2-5 minutes but afterwards, you get to not feel like you've run a marathon while carrying 4 people on your back.

Today, I had a moderate amount of energy. Under my old system of go till you drop, I probably could have done most of the dishes and wiped off the counter and then been dead to the world for the rest of the day.

Under the new system, I scooped litter boxes, cleaned out the fridge, took the trash out, cleaned the stove, and wiped off the counter and did all the dishes. And after all that, I still had it in me to make a simple dinner, unload the dishwasher, and tidy the kitchen.

It was complete and utter insanity. Just because I sat down whenever I felt myself getting more tired than I already was.

All this to say, take fucking breaks. It's time to unlearn the ceaseless productivity bullshit that capitalism has shoved down our throats. Its actively counterproductive. Just sit down. Drink some water. Rest your body when it needs to rest.

There will still be days where there is nothing to do but rest, and days where half a load of dishes is absolutely the most I can do. But this method has really helped me minimize those, which is so incredibly relieving.

[hidden-poet]

The Nurse

1/1

summary: Coriolanus never forgets about the nurse who treated his snakebite, and he is determined to not let her forget him.

Warnings: unrequited love, graphic wounds, stalking, coryo being de lu lu, non-con, pretty tame for me to be honest.

Word Count: 12, 250

Thank you all for you patience and kind words!

Coriolanus was sure he was going to die. He could feel the poison traveling up his arm, and through the rest of his body. 

He never should have trusted Lucy-gray. Love made him stupid. 

Now just as he was getting his life back, it was being slowly sucked from his body. 

Betrayed by someone that owed him her life. She would have died in the Hunger games if not for him. He sacrificed everything for her, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted his final breath. 

She couldn’t have it. Not now that everything he had fought his whole life for was within his reach. His fathers compass agrees. It points him in the direction of help. 

Through blurry eyes, he could see the gates of the compound. There they could fix him and send him onward to officer training. There he could live up to his name.

Coriolanus struggles to put one foot in front of the other. His body felt like it was on fire. Sweat poured from him, the snake's poison, and his long journey back in the sun teamed up to exhaust him. 

The ringing ears indicated that Coriolanus was done. He could no longer place where he was. Was the gate in front of him, or has he spun in a completely different direction?

The weight of the compass falls from his hands, unable to help him. The world felt as if it was spinning him around. His vision was blurry and limited to two feet in front of him.

“Sir, are you alright?”, a low yell was heard over his ringing ears.

He swiped his hand to see if he could touch them, but it shoosh’s through the air. It used all the energy he had left. No longer with the energy to stand, he crumbles to his knees.He feels the hard rocks dig into him, so he knew he was on the path to the compound. 

After everything, this is how he dies. He regrets trying to make it back. It would have been better if his body was lost in the woods. Less humiliating than being found trying to crawl back like a coward. 

“You’re okay”, the sweet voice spoke, closer.

He looks to see eyes staring at him. In a panic, he pushes away from them, certain it was Lucy-Gray coming to finish the job. The action pushes the side of his body into the road's gravel, scraping his skin, and leaving smaller rocks wedged in his side. 

“I want to help. I just want to help. It’s okay”, the voice spoke. Not Lucy-Gray. Not a threat. 

He could feel his body being hoisted up. You tucked your small shoulders under his arm, and wrapped your arm around his waist. 

“You’re going to be okay”, you spoke again. 

He tried to assist you in walking him forward. All his weight was lent on you, but you  were determined not to drop him. 

You yell for the guarding peacekeepers to come help, as they shuffle forward. 

He stumbles, nearly taking you to the ground with him, but you are quick to steady the weight again. You move forward again, slower this time to allow for Coriolanus to balance himself without his senses. 

You scream a name that he recognised from training, but couldn’t place a face to.

It was lucky that you was friendlier than he was. The gate swung wide at the name. No formal checks of identity that should have been done according to protocol were made. 

Your name was called back, but Coriolanus screamed in pain over it. His arm began to pound in agony. He tried to move it up to his chest, but his arm had lost all movement. 

You ordered the men to abandon their post to take him to the medical camp. He was surprised when they did it without a fight. 

The weight of him is lifted off you as he is lifted off the ground by two officers. With one carrying his legs, and one lifting him under his arms, Coriolaus is jogged to the medical tent. 

It didn’t matter. It was too late. Coriolanus Snow would die in district 12 like his father. Rebels would end the great Snow line. 

He could hear you as you led the men. All sight was lost, his consciousness slipping in and out as he heard curtains being drawn, and a hasty search for something. 

Coriolanus is placed on a hard bed, and something tight is wrapped around his arm.  

The last thing he felt was a soothing hand sweeping over his head. A kind last touch, he thought. 

He woke from heat. His whole body felt as if he was in a furnace. 

A cool rag was wiped over his head, and he opened his eyes enough to see you staring back. His eyesight had returned but he had to fight to keep his eyes open. 

He was laying on his uninjured arm. He raises it slightly to catch your small wrist in his hand as you go to dab his sweat again. You remain calm, waiting for him to fall back asleep. 

His hand drops to the bed with your wrist.His cheek presses up against your fingers, the wet rage soaks the bedding beneath. Still you leave it there until he is back asleep before you continue your work. 

The next time he woke up, he was alone with a pounding headache. 

His sight was back, but his arm still ached, and he could feel the sweat on his head from his temperature. 

The medical facility was large, rows and rows of beds stretched out. Most were filled with men of various ailments. 

Across the large space was a wall that separated the patients from the rest of the medical facility. A large glass window showed the nurses den. 

Two nurses sat behind it talking. Their uniform was light blue like the peacekeepers uniform. Only the uniform was fashioned into half length sleeves which were cuffed at their elbows and a form fitting skirt. Despite efforts of the design, it was manly. 

The collars seemed too large for womens neck, the pockets on each side were too big across their chests. Coriolanus realized that they were old peacekeeper uniforms repurposed for the nurses. 

Coriolaus looked up to see the railings of the curtain that could be pulled for privacy but he was too weak to rise. 

He layed in disbelief that he had survived. A second chance was given to him. Nothing would stand in his way now. No longer will he be swayed by his emotions. His only focus would be rising to the top. How he got there no longer mattered. He had tried hard work, and moral reasoning, and it left him dead in the forest. 

Coriolanus looked down at his bite, it was covered in a white wrap, but he could see the discolouration of his skin, and feel the liquid as it oozed out of the bite. 

He hoped it would leave a scar. A reminder of a hard lesson learnt. 

A doctor interrupted his thoughts to check his vitals. He was an older doctor, with gray, thin hair, and wrinkled skin. But he wore no glasses, and walked tall, and  straight. 

“You were lucky, Mr Snow. You were found just in time. Even two minutes later, and you would have been dead”, he said, writing down on his clipboard. 

Coriolanus huffs. After everything he was owed a bit of luck. 

He remembers the girl who found him. Her soft touch, and beautiful eyes. The same women who had attended to him with the cool rag.

“Who found me?”, he asks the doctor. 

“One of the nurses here. Very lucky indeed, Mr Snow. One of my favorite nurses, Nurse Y/n. She took good care of you. You owe her your life”. 

It felt as if he had been bitten again.  He didn’t want to owe anybody anything. 

“I would like to thank her”. 

He remembers how you struggled to keep his weight up right. You could have left him. Had him be someone else's problem, but you didn’t. You were still learning that goodness would not come back to you. 

“You’ll get your chance. She’s on night shift tonight”. 

He felt eager to see you. Someone in this world yet to learn it was dog eat dog. 

The doctor said you were his favorite. That could only mean that you were kind, and beautiful. Coriolanus expected nothing less from you. 

Coriolanus waits while the others sleep. The shifts had still not been switched yet. He grew inpatient. He wanted to thank you, and go to sleep. 

But the same nurse who delivered his dinner sat there flipping through a magazine behind the glass.

Hours passed, he thought about abandoning the idea, and going to sleep. The hospital was small, and inadequately staffed. He was sure to run into you at a later date. Yet he made no move to sleep. Part of him wanted to see you tonight. 

Finally, he did. The shifts were changed, and the nurse he had grown to detest was putting down her magazine to greet you. 

He recognized you instantly as you entered the nurses den.You put down your coat and bag, as you talk to the nurse on duty. For a late night shift you seemed in good spirits. 

You look out from the window, and for some reason Coriolanus pretended to be asleep. He didn’t want you to think he was a stalker, waiting up for you. 

Only one nurse was on duty overnight due to staff shortage, and Coriolanus felt relieved when the other nurse returned back to the nurses quarters. He wanted to be alone with you. 

He waits patiently until you come out to check on the men. 

You pulled blankets over them like they were children, put their limbs back onto their small beds. You made sure every man's vitals were where they were supposed to be. More work than the other nurse did her entire shift. 

You are slow getting to him, but he doesn’t mind. He enjoyed watching you as you worked. 

It was dark, and you were so focused on your task, you didn’t see him staring at you until you reached his bed. 

“Hello” he greets. 

“Mr Snow”, you address, “You should be asleep”. 

“I was waiting for you. I hear it is you that I have to thank for saving my life”.

“Hardly. I just assisted”. 

You were bashful about saving a man's life. 

“Well thank you for assisting to save my life, and for carrying me to the gates. I wouldn’t have got there if you hadn’t arrived”. 

The blush on your cheeks was heavenly. A small smile teased your lips, and you looked shyly down. It wasn’t often you got praised, he guessed, he would try to do it as often as possible. 

“It was no problem”, you mutter. 

Your eyes suddenly shoot down to him, and your posture straightens. 

“Is your arm giving you pain?”, you ask him. 

It was, but he didn’t want anymore drugs making him hazy so he denies the throbbing sensation. 

“No. I feel fine”. 

“Can I get you an extra blanket or pillow?”. 

His heart twists at your words. He very rarely hears ‘what can i do for you’, instead of ‘what can i take from you’. It was a nice change. 

“No, thank you”. 

“If you change your mind, let me know. I have rounds to do. Any problem, push your call button” you point to a yellow light clicker next to him, “try to get some sleep. Rest is important in your recovery”. 

He almost begged you to stay, but it was a childish need. 

“Thank you, nurse Y/n”, he returns. 

You leave him with a smile, “of course”. 

Over the next couple of days of bed rest Coriolanus grew restless to see you. It felt like torture, waiting hours to sometimes only catch a glimpse of you as you pottered in the staffs den, or made your rounds on the other side of the hospital. 

He mostly hated Tuesdays, and Fridays, as they were your days off. 

He felt jealous when he saw you attend to other patients. He knew it was silly, it was your job, but he didn’t like being attended to by anyone else, and he didn’t like you attending to anyone else. He didn’t like that you had a job at all. Let alone one this taxing. 

But it did mean that he got to see you. 

He liked to think that he was your favorite, but you gave no indication that it was true. 

You were kind to everyone. Had repours with nearly all of the men in your wards. Some even called you by your first name only. Coriolanus felt it was disrespectful and too familiar for his likening. 

The man next to him had a leg blown off in an explosive test gone wrong. Sometimes it felt as if he was your favorite.  You would spend more time at his bed, than Coriolanus’s. And you always called him by his name, Francies, but always called Coriolanus, Mr snow. 

Still you found his compass for him, polished and delivered it straight to him, that was a sign that you favorited him. You only performed within your job requirements for Francies, you went beyond for him.

 He began to worry that love had made him stupid again. Like Lucy-Gray, you consumed his thoughts. 

Except here, you held the power. He could only see you when you decided to visit him, where he could visit Lucy-Gray in her enclosure anytime he wished. You fed him, he fed Lucy-Gray. He hated being on the other side of the power imbalance. He promised himself that he would only be on top from now on. 

It was stupid after everything to fall so quickly back into his obsessive nature. He thought he would never love again. Never give someone that much power over him again. He would marry for power, and to someone who had no sway over him at all.  

Yet when he saw you eating soup for the millionth time in the nurses den, he wished for nothing more than to give you every luxury life had to offer. You saved his life. You were kind to him, when all he had ever known was being of use to someone. 

He would get back to the Capitol, Hoff had promised him that district 2 was still on the cards. All he had to do was get better, and he could complete officer training, get back to the Capitol, and send for you there. 

Without school in the way, he could get a good job. Plinth had managed to get Coriolanus’ academy diploma.  That still had use, even with his time as a peacekeeper. 

He would get the Snow apartment back. It might be crowded, and run down, but he would slowly fix that. He figured you wouldn’t mind so long as he was working towards a better future. 

He would daydream of a better future for you both, while he waited to see you. Not only was he given another chance, he was given motivation to take it. 

Why would you want a low Peacekeeper for a husband? You were surrounded by them all day. What good were they to you? How would they take care of you, and provide all that you need. 

Even on an officer's wage, it would be a struggle. He still had to send home money. Even as an officer he would be no good to you. He had to get home, and rise to the top. 

But, he was going to miss you in doing so. He faked being hurt just a little bit longer than necessary. He would have to go soon, but two extra weeks of your attention wouldn’t derail his plans too much. 

You worked mostly night shifts which distributed Coriolanus sleep. But it worked in his favor too. Rarely was anyone else awake. It could just be the two of you

He thought you liked it too. You would smile when you saw him awake. 

He found himself smiling back on reflex. 

“Do you sleep, Mr Snow?” you tease him. 

“Not when you’re around”, he admits.

His words still you. It’s clear you feel uncomfortable that he said it. Coriolanus wished he could disappear. 

“Is your arm giving you pain again?” you ask. He takes the opportunity for the dismissal. 

“Ah-Yes”, he deflects. 

You turn up his pain relief, and unwrap his bandage to take a look. 

Coriolanus set his record for two wrong things said in a row. He was always cool, and calculated. You had to be to survive in the Capitol. Honey-tongued he was called, but now he was acting like a fool. 

He didn’t want the extra pain relief that would make him tired, and he definitely didn’t want you to look at his wound that was yellow and pusy. 

It didn’t irk you like he suspected that it would have, but still he tried to yank his arm away and hide it under the blanket. 

You catch his hand with yours to keep his arm still as you inspect it. He suddenly felt very hot as you held his hand on the bed, while you looked put together and focused like always. 

“Yellow bellies have the most painful bite of any snake in the district. I am surprised you complain so little”. 

You jerk your hand from his, causing his fingers to curl. He keeps his fingers tight against his palm which aggravates the sore muscles on his bitten arm. 

Taking a bottle from his nightstand, and dapping it into a medical cloth, you turn your focus back on him. 

“I am just going to clean it. It might hurt a little”. 

The first dap felt like acid on his arm. He grits his teeth from the pain. 

“Why don’t you tell me about yourself. How long have you been a peacekeeper for?”. 

You were trying to distract him. He picked up on it easily. He should have felt like a child, but he felt thrilled at the opportunity to talk to you about something other than his arm. 

“Not long. I am going to Officer training in two, and then I’ll make my way back to the Capitol”. 

“Oh the Capitol? You aren’t a transfer from another district”, you observe as you tap his yellow, and flaky skin with your rag.

“Do you know the Campbells?”, you ask. 

He did. He was surprised that you did. 

“We were neighbors, before the war” you explain.

“You’re from the Capitol?” he asks. 

“I was. The war took both my parents. After that there was nothing left for me there”. 

There was no emotion as you said it. No hidden anguish at all you had lost.

“I am sorry that happened to you”, he offered. 

“Don’t be. Plenty of orphans due to the war. I am grateful that the medic school took me.  But the Campbells had this little white dog that I used to love. I always wondered if it survived”. 

Coriolanus knew that the dog was long gone. The Campbells had eaten it when supplies were cut off to the Capitol. They tried to sell its fur to Grandma’am.

He didn’t want to disappoint you with the news, so a lie fell off his tongue. 

“Yes, it did. Mrs Campbell carries it everywhere with her”. 

You smile and he is glad he chose to lie. 

“My parents died in the war too. I have my grandmother, and cousin waiting for me to get back to the Capitol’’. 

“I hope you get there, Mr Snow”, you say as you wrap his arm back up. 

“Would you come with me?”, he asks.

Your pause made him worry that you were going to laugh at him, but instead you looked shyly up and smiled. 

“This is my home. I am happy here’, you state. 

“The Capitol would be better than here. I could give you the life you deserve”. 

“The Capitol is not for me”, you deflect. 

He felt angry at your resistance. Did you not think he could look after you? Did you not trust that he would not remain a peacekeeper all his days. 

“So that’s a no. You wouldn’t come with me”, he determines. 

It should have been disheartening. He should have left the idea alone there, but if anything it was a challenge. A call for action. Motivation to leave the hospital and become the man you would leave the district for. 

“That’s a no,” you agree, “But when you get to the Capitol, I want you to give Mrs Campbell's dog a pat for me.”

The dog is dead, he wanted to say. You had hurt him, so he wanted to hurt you, but cool, and calculated is how he survived, and it’s how he would get everything he is after. 

“I’ll do it for a kiss,” he barters. 

You look surprised he said it. Unsure at first, before your lips turned into a sly smile. 

Bending down, he thinks you are about to accept his offer. He parts his lips slightly for you, bringing his head towards yours slowly. 

His heart pounds in his chest. If his arm wasn’t so sore he would reach out for your face. 

He remembers the anticipation of Lucy-grays first kiss. It was a dizzing feeling that he hated. 

He swears he feels your lips graze his but you duck your head away and kiss both his cheeks quickly. 

“You can tell Mrs Campbell I said hi too”, you giggle. 

“Was that amusing for you?”, he asks. 

You nod your head with a grin across your face. 

“Goodnight, Mr Snow. I’ll see you for breakfast”. 

Wasting no more time with him, you continue your work with other patients. 

“Goodnight, nurse y/n.” 

Coriolanus rests his head on the pillow as you disappear into the other side of the hospital. 

He must have been a child the last time he couldn’t help but smile. All that had happened seemed like a lifetime ago, and not only a couple of weeks. He was a new person. Lucy-Gray had killed the boy, and raised the man. 

Wouldn’t come to the Capitol with him? He would be the final decider of that. He smiled thinking about the future ahead of him. 

The news of his discharge did not bring him the pleasure he was expecting. 

Who knew how long officer training would take. It could be years before he got back to the Capitol and that was only when his journey began. He was sure he would not forget you, but would time cause you to forget him.  

His fellow Peacekeepers wished him well as he packed his truck up. Commander Hoff had signed him out this morning, but you weren’t there to say goodbye. 

He couldn’t let you forget him.

He owed you his life, he had a debt to pay.

Everyone told him how happy he should be. To get out of 12, but you were in 12. Surrounded by young men with little brains but big muscles. 

How lonely could he expect you to get before you found warmth in the arms of a soldier. 

He tosses in his uncomfortable bed. In the morning he would be sent

miles away. Could he trust you to assume his love? No. He had to tell you. Had to assure you that he was coming back. 

Tonight you did night shift. He had to tell you to wait for him. 

He leaps out of his bunk, pulling on his cardigan before sneaking out of the bunks. 

If a commanding officer caught him outside after lights out, the punishment was a night in the compound jail. He wouldn’t be released until late morning and would miss his train. 

He is quick as he moves through the darkness. Only stopping to hide when night staff were approaching. He made it safely to the nurses door.

It was late. Night guard focused on the boundaries so Coriolanus felt safe to approach the door to the nurses den despite the light illuminating the door. 

He knocks on the entry, and you open it shortly after. Unsuspecting, and untroubled. 

“Mr Snow,” you smile at him, causing him to unknowingly smile back. 

“Is something wrong?”, you step aside to allow him in out of the cold. He closes the door behind him, and feels secure being trapped in the room with you. 

“Yes-No”, he wasn’t sure where to begin. 

“Your arm?” you guessed. 

“I am going to officer training tomorrow”, he states. 

You smile wide at him again, but this time no smile on his lips curled back. He could tell you had not realized your stake in this.

“Congratulations.’’ you move past him to place a clip bored back on the shelf behind him, “I am happy for you.”

“Are you?” he asks. 

“Of course. I remember you telling me your plans to reach the Capitol. Officer training is a good stepping stone”. 

He grabs your arm to turn you towards him. 

“I don’t want you to forget me”. 

You looked unsettled, but made no attempt to break away. 

“Of course not”, you answer. 

“I don’t want you to think I’ll forget you either. I’ll send for you as soon as I can”. 

Your face twists, and you slightly attempt to raise your arm out of his hold. 

“Mr Snow, I am afraid you are confused. Maybe you should go back to your bunk”. 

He uses his grip on your arm to shake you slightly.

“Don’t speak to me like that”, he requests. He wasn’t one of your patients. 

“I told you, I have no interest in returning to the Capitol”. Your voice had changed from your usual sweet tone. It carried a hint of irritation, and strong determination. 

You try to tug your arm back from him but it was too tight,

“I have an interest in you returning to the Capitol”.

You look past him to the door. It causes great irritation for Coriolanus. Who wanted all of your focus. 

With his hold on your arm he pushes you back into the wall and kisses you. His lips are hard against yours. His eyes are closed but yours remain open from the shock. 

You struggle against his kiss, but his grip was tight on your jaw and his lips pressed unmercifully against yours. 

He was the one to break the kiss, leaving you breathless and shrunk against the wall. 

“I need you to tell me you’ll wait for me”, he demands. 

“Mr Snow, I-”.

He brings you forward to slam you back into the wall as punishment for your hesitation. 

“Say it”. 

Your hands come up in defense between you. 

“I am sorry if I misled you”. 

“Misled me? You saved my life”

“It’s normal for patients to feel this way after a traumatic experience. Your body has been through a lot of shock, wait for it to heal”.

“Say it. Say the words, Coriolanus Snow, I am yours, and I’ll wait for you”. 

You look out the window to the sleeping patients. Even if one woke and saw you, most of them were too sick to even get out of bed. 

“Don’t look at them. Look at me”, he demands. The hands that held you in place moved up to your neck

“Okay” you agreed quickly before he started to apply pressure. 

“Say it”, he declared. 

“I’ll wait for you”. You say but it doesn’t satisfy him. 

“The whole thing”, he directs. 

“Coriolanus, I am yours and I’ll wait, okay?”.

With his hands still on your neck he kisses you once more. You make no attempt to stop him as you place your hands on arms. 

He pulls back with a boyish smile on his lips. 

“I love you”, he states. 

You pull his hands away from your throat and keep them still between your hands. 

“You must go back to bed now. You have a big day ahead of you. You need your rest for it”,  you push him away slightly as you spoke, hoping it would be enough to redirect him. 

He removes his hands from you completely with a smile. 

He knew you were right. He needed to arrive his best tomorrow. Show district 2 that he wouldn’t be there for very long.

“I’ll send for you as soon as I can”, he promised. 

You nod your head enthusiastically, pushing firmly on his arm to the exit. 

His feet shuffle on the floor as he slowly walks to the door. 

He stops just as his foot hits the cold air from the open door. It felt like you had run into a brick wall as you knocked against him. 

“I promise y/n, I’ll take care of you”, he vows.

He comes in for a kiss again. His hand found its way to the side of your face to pull you in, and his lips pressed hard against yours. 

You yank yourself away and push on him to retreat back to his bunk. 

“Go” you whisper and he does.

You watch as he runs back into the buildings and under cover of the darkness.  

Your shaky hands turn the lock of the door as he disappears from sight. 

The next morning,as soon as he wakes he heads to the medical facility to say goodbye to you. He skips breakfast to do so. 

You weren’t there, and he had no clue where the nurse quarters were kept. He had no time to find out, his train would leave soon. 

He arrived at the train station disheartened that he couldn’t see you one last time. You must have been greatly upset at his departure. A goodbye must have been too much. 

He pictured you crying in your bed, and his heart pulled to think of you in such a state because of him. He would write as soon as he landed in district 2, never mind the cost. 

It was a delight when Commander Hoff spoke of a change of plans. Dr Gaul had requested your presence, Hoff said. 

His luck had finally turned. He was back in the Capitol. Back where he was supposed to be in a high position of power and money to burn. 

It was too soon to bring you back. The ground beneath him could still turn to quick sand under his feet. He thought of you often, every second that he had spare. He worried that you were angry with him. It had been too long since he had talked to you. He has been so busy settling in, and flaunting his new success that he didn’t have time to sit down to write. The few times he tried to squeeze in on the car ride, or while waiting for a meeting, his hands would shake too much. 

He felt stupid. A simple letter should not make his hands shake. On the way back from the lake, he had promised himself that he would never allow love to make him weak again. Now he is worried about your feelings towards him. 

Finally he decided that enough was enough. He rises from his bed after tossing nearly the whole night through, and enters his study. 

The pen felt heavy in his hand as he sat. He wasn’t sure what to say, or where to start. 

He shakes the pen in his hand. Enough was enough. He would be careful how much you swayed his emotions. 

‘Dear Nurse Y/n, 

I hope this letter finds you in good health. ‘

He strikes his pen through the words, before crumpling up the paper and throwing it away. So formal. 

‘Dear Y/n, 

My plans to reach the Capitol have been expedited. I am now working under Dr Gaul in the war department. We have plans to run for senate. 

I have not forgotten my promise that I would send for you. ‘

His pen stills. With everything going on, he wasn’t sure that now was the best time to bring you. Tigres had limited contact. He was working until late at night. Nearly all his money went to the run for senate.

Once he wins things would be different. He would send for you then. Until then, he wanted you to have a piece of him. A token of his promise. 

He picks up his old peacekeeper dog tags from his desk drawer. It felt like a collar in his hands. 

He tosses them into the envelope and continues writing his letter to you. 

‘I have enclosed my dog days. I wish for you to wear them while I am away. A symbol of my love. We will not be parted for too long. Take care of yourself. 

Yours, 

C.Snow’

Coriolanus writes to you every evening before bed, but no letter is ever returned. He didn’t mind, he was sure that it was because you missed him too much. Writing would cause you pain, and that’s the last thing he wanted to cause, even if a reply was all he wanted. 

He would write mundane things. What he did that day, how much he missed you, how his election for senator was going. 

It was going well. He won voters easily. But the run kept him busy, with little time and energy left to write to you. He worried that you would be upset with him. Sometimes all he could manage to write was, ‘I love you. I am tired.’

The gifts he would send were returned. Every letter he would assure you that he was working towards bringing you here. Begged you not to be mad at him. 

But you would not accept his telephone calls and your presents piled at his feet. 

It had been nearly six months since he left district 12. Six months of not seeing you. Not hearing from you. It drove him mad. 

He called you a spiteful woman in one of his late night letters after a fundraising gala. 

The next letter that arrived the same day apologized. You were not a spiteful woman. He was a stupid man. You had every right to be angry with him. He is taking too long. He begged for your forgiveness and reminded you of his love. 

You threw the letters in the bin and clocked on for your shift. The days were longer now that you don’t talk to the patients. 

Coriolanus sits in his office after a long day. He wanted nothing more than to go home and have you there. Ready to care for him like you did at the hospital. 

He twirls the pen between his fingers. The other hand played with the coins he planned to give you. 

He wished you would reply to him. A single sentence would be enough to quench his thirst. 

Begging for a letter would seem desperate. With a beginning in mind he set his pen to paper. 

‘Dear Y/n, 

I hope to hear from you that you have been well. ‘

Yes, good. Set the expectation of a reply. 

‘Please, let me know if there is anything I can do to ease any discomfort. I have been well.  Apologies for the delay in writing to you. I have been busy preparing to run for senator. With the support I have managed to gather I believe victory is set. You’ll be a senator's wife upon returning to the Capitol. As soon as I win, and it is safe, I will send for you. I haven’t forgotten you. 

I have missed you terribly, and think of you often. 

I hope to be reunited soon. 

Yours, 

C.Snow.’

Nothing but the money he sent was returned. 

It sent him into a fit of rage. Papers were thrown off his desk. Decorative ornaments were thrown across the room and into walls. 

He decided that no more letters were going to be sent unless he could tell you the news you have been waiting for. 

He worked harder than ever. No longer playing fair. He cut corners where he could. Relied on money, rather than charm. He used to be opposed to the use of poison. Told Dr Gaul that he would win the senate seat through his wit, but time was passing too quickly. Coriolanus grew impatient. A nasty rumor about what he was doing spread around the Capitol, but he quickly shut it down.  

It paid off with a landslide victory. He hadn’t just won his entry to the presidency. He had won you. 

Surely, you could no longer be mad at him with such an impressive victory. He had his assistant organize a train out of district 12 for you. 

With it in his hand he sat in his office chair and penned you a letter still dressed in his uncomfortable formal attire. 

‘Dearest, 

You may of heard the news of my win last night. 

I have attached a train ticket out of 12. It leaves next monday at noon. Don’t miss it. 

Forever yours, 

C.Snow. ‘

With no reply back, Coriolanus was hopeful that he would see you on the train. He arrived too early to collect you, and spent the hour waiting by pacing the platform with the dying rose. 

When it finally pulled up, he could hardly hide his excitement. It had felt like years without seeing you. He sent you beautiful green luggage set to back what you wanted, and a new dress to arrive in. 

He waits for you to arrive out of the first class carriage but it emptied without sight of you. He continued down, weaving through the people down to the luggage carriage. Maybe you had gotten off the train while he was distracted.

The green set of luggage he had sent you was being carried off the train. He rushed to the carriage to greet you, but only a working man was there. 

“Where’s the girl who owns this luggage?”, he demanded. 

“No girl, sir. Only the luggage and the ticket”, replied the man. 

The rose dropped from his hand. It felt as if the venom from the snake had begun to pulse through his body again. 

He rushes back to his office where he hastily grabs a piece of paper, and pen.

His pen digs a hole into the paper from where he pressed down, but through his anger no words could be formed. 

After everything you would not come. You were stubborn like Lucy-gray. Didn’t know when to quit. He would have to change that about you when you became a senate's wife. 

He crumples up the letter and throws it in the bin. There would be no warning for you. 

The next week he arrived back in district 12. It was a surprise to the district which meant it was a surprise to you. 

A trip as a new senate leader to ensure the medical facilities were up to standard, he had told the Commander. 

The new Commander of district 12 was chuffed with a visit from the Capitol. It proved difficult to be left alone at the hospital. Coriolanus’s eyes the small hospital he managed to push his way too. 

The Commander was too loud. He would take the element of surprise away. It would give you a chance to escape, and Coriolanus would spend hours searching the compound for you. 

He wanted to wrap his hands around the new Commander's throat. Coriolanus despised Hoff during his peacekeeper days. But at least Hoff knew the importance of composure. This man nearly leaped into Coriolanus' arms. 

A lie of a headache landed Coriolanus in the doctor's den. It was a bigger, self-contained room than the nurses' den. It was situated at the very back of the hospital, away from the noise and eyes of others. It made it a perfect place to bring you. 

“There was a nurse”, Coriolanus spoke as he took a seat at the table, “back in my old peacekeeping days. Nurse Y/N, I think? Could you send for her? I’d like to see a familiar face”. 

“Of course, Senator Snow. I’ll send her, and a doctor right along”. The Commander turns to leave. Panic and annoyance rises through Coriolanus. 

“Just her”, Coriolanus said, a little too sharply. He takes a breath to regain himself before directing the Commander once more. 

“And Commander, take two of my peacekeepers to escort her back. You’re a busy man, and they will want to do their security measures anyway”.

The Commander nods back before leaving the room.

Coriolanus lets out a shaky breath, running his fingers through his hair to smooth the curls back. After all this time he was going to see you again. He would be able to hold you, he was sure. 

How would you greet him? Should he wait for you to set the tone? See your reaction and base his off that. He wasn’t sure he would be able to stop himself from touching you if you were within arms distance. 

He sat back down behind the table. It would give him an excuse so you would be forced to make first contact. 

His finger locks with his curls. He should have got his hair professionally done, but he was in such a hurry to get here to you. Instead he focuses on straightening his suit. It was expensive and well made. It should impress you, but not if it was crumpled. 

His pocket bore a hole with the present he had brought for you. A lovely pair of diamond dangle earrings. 

He twisted the box around in his fingers, and took another deep breath. He hoped that upon seeing him your anger would disappear. 

Maybe it was all a test. You wanted him to come back. To put on a show for your friends here. The prince took the princess away to live happily ever after. 

The prince brought a nice pair of earrings with him. Surely, you could forgive him for his delay. He couldn’t bear your anger. 

His anxiety was matched with the ticking of his wrist watch. What could be taking so long? He wonders. Were you also readying yourself for him? Didn’t you know that you were the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on? It didn’t matter to him if your face was dirty, or your eyes carried sleep. Your heart blinded him to mere appearances. It was your soul he loved, and your soul he would have. 

“Hello, dearest” he greets with a soft smile.  

You slam the door closed behind you, shutting the Peacekeepers out. 

“What are you doing here?” you seeth. 

Coriolanus pockets the box once more. He would give it to you when you would appreciate them more. 

“Would you like a cup of tea?”, he pours the pot that was given to him into the single teacup provided. 

“I have work to do. What do you want?”, you state. 

“I just want to talk. Sit please”. He gets up to show his full height. Sometimes he swore you forgot the noticeable size difference when you talked. 

He gestures to the chair across the small table. He places the cup in front of you as you sit, before returning to his seat across from you. 

“How have you been?”, he asks casually.

“You want to talk about my health?”, you spat back at him. 

“You never responded to my letters”. 

“I told you to stop sending them to me”. 

“No”, Coriolanus rejects, “I never heard anything from you”. 

It was a sore point for him that swelled a lot of the emotions he had pushed down. 

“If I didn’t have tabs on you, I would have thought you were dead”, he let slip. 

His eyes closed in frustration as he said it. Just your presence made him lose his composure. At least with you, he knew his secrets were safe. 

“You were keeping tabs on me?”, you muttered in disbelief. 

“As I said, I thought you could be dead. I was just making sure you were safe. I wasn’t sure my letters or presents were even reaching you”, he reasons. He leans his hand across the table, wanting so badly to touch you. 

“What are you doing here?”, you ask again. 

“I’ve come to take you home. Back to the Capitol”. 

You did not look joyed at the news like you should have. 

“District 12 is my home”, you accounce. 

He pulls himself back from across the table. A harsher approach would be needed, so he squares his shoulders, and sits up as tall as he can. His face hardenings, and he feels a scowl edge across his face.

“You are happy here?”. 

Flashes of the forest cross his mind. The endless wandering. The dull ache of thinking that he had failed his father. The betrayal. 

“Yes”, you answer. 

Coriolaus trains his eyes on the teapot, no longer able to look at you with such hate. 

“That’s a shame”, he states. 

“Shame?” You question. 

“I didn’t come here to leave without you”. 

“Mr snow-“

He sighs deeply, leaning on the table 

“Coriolaus, please”, he begs. 

You suddenly stand up, your chair falling back at movement. 

“Coriolanus, get out. Keep your letters to yourself, and never bother me again”. 

Coriolaus doesn’t move, just stares at you from his chair as if you were the crazy one. 

“Get out!” you scream at him.

His puzzled expression turns back to a neutral stare as he rises from his chair.  

“Forgive me, nurse Y/N. I wasn’t aware of your indifference”. 

His shoulders brush yours as he passes you to the door. 

He had a plan B. He always had a plan B. 

The next morning you were assigned to blood donation. A overhanging tent was placed near the front of the gates where districts, and fellow peacekeepers could donate for a few dollars. 

You assisted a doctor in drawing, categorizing and storing the blood for use. You knew Coriolanus was still in the Compound. The Commander drove him around, showing him new additions since he was a peacekeeper. Coriolanus could care less, but he caught two glimpses of you as the car passed. 

You were always busy working like he remembered. The tent quieted as it reached late afternoon. By 4 o’clock, it was just you and one other doctor attending the tent. 

You still had three districts in chairs as the blood was pumped out of them. Coriolanus waited behind a building until he could see only one district left. 

The doctor looks to be packing up while you talk to the man in the chair. Coriolanus hated that you were speaking to him. He was nothing. Less than nothing; he was district. He didn’t deserve to be talking to you. 

Coriolanus made his way over with a calm demeanor, despite how he was feeling. 

The doctor noticed him before you did. 

“Mr Snow. Can we help you, sir?”, the doctor asked. 

“I’d like to donate blood for the cause”, he answered. He made a point not to look at you. 

“Mr Snow, that’s quite generous, but unnecessary”, the man replied. 

“Please, I insist”. Coriolanus rolled up the sleeve of his left arm to prepare himself for the chair.

The Doctor looks to you, before accepting Coriolanus’s request. 

“Very well. If you follow me I’ll just check your levels, and then I’ll send you to my nurse”. 

Coriolanus could hear your protest leaving your lips, so he spoke loud and clear over them. 

“Excellent”, he exclaimed. 

He follows the Doctor to a small metal table with two fold out chairs opposite each other. He could partially see you from where he sat. You were still attending to the man in the chair but the talking had stopped. 

Coriolanus engages the doctor in idle small talk so you couldn’t ask to be excused. He could see that the district had grown uncomfortable in Coriolanus’s presence, and kept asking how long he had left. 

By the time Coriolanus had his blood pressure taken, and a sample of his blood taken, the district was being sent away from the tent with a coin, and a loaf of bread you had given him. Just in time for Coriolanus' time in the chair. 

You ignore him, talking only to the doctor. 

“Sir-I”, you begin but Coriolanus started his sentence in the middle of yours. 

“I admit I have other motives aside from my patriotism. Nurse, would you mind answering a few questions I have? I want to hear every voice before I implement new changes”.

After hearing the Doctors complaints about the resources and pay, Coriolanus knew that the promise of change was his way in. 

“Yes! yes, of course. You must hear all sides” the Doctor boasts. 

“Doctor, would you mind leaving us? I find people speak easier truths without an audience”. 

“Of course. She’ll tell you. It’s like working in a shooting range with limited bullets”, the Doctor turns to walk away, causing you to call out for him, taking his coat in your hands to tug him back. 

He yanks it away from your grip. “Tell him”, he demands, “You won’t be in trouble he wants to know”. 

Coriolanus gently touches your elbow, taking it in his hand, but releasing it as the Doctor becomes more focused on you. 

“I’ll be back in half-an-hour. Don’t take anymore patients, I want to be packed up before it gets dark”. 

The Doctor walks away from the tent, and the half-an-hour time frame begins to tick. 

You looked sour, and slightly worried. He hated to see it, especially by cause of him. 

You don’t move as he shuffles past you. He wanted to ease you so you could speak like you did when you visited his bedside. It was easy conversation, and for maybe the first time in his life, he felt seen by somebody. He wanted it back, but first he had to regain his familiar status with you. 

“We’re in broad daylight, surrounded by Peacekeepers who like you more than me. What could I do?”, Coriolanus states as he takes his seat in the chair. 

“You are unbelievable”, you scold, but move to swap his pressure point with disinfectant. 

“I am sorry. Truely”. It had been so long since you were so close. Mere inches between you and him. It felt so right, could you feel it too? He thought. 

“I never meant to offend you. My actions never held any ill intent”, he consoles.

The needle dug harshly into his arm, but he showed no effect of it. 

“Sending me gifts, keeping tabs on me. You think I have forgotten that night in the nurses den?”. You pull back away from him once the needle begins drawing blood. He hated to let you, but plan B involved good terms. 

“I am sorry for all of it. I misinterpreted, and fed delusion from my own fantasies. I never meant you harm”, he shouted his words across the tent hoping no other person was listening. 

“I hope you can forgive me, Y/N. You saved my life”.

He could see your common sense fighting with your mercy. Your hands fidgeted, and your eyes kept bouncing from what you were doing to Coriolanus. 

“Let’s just forget it”, you mutter. 

“What?” he calls, despite hearing fine. 

His plan works and you move back over to him to speak again. 

“I forgive you. Bridge over water” you offer. 

The saying was ‘water over the bridge’, but he didn’t want to correct you. If you said it was bridge over water, he would accept it. 

“Thank you”, he gushed. “Why don’t you sit beside me like old times? I really do want to hear your opinions on reform”. 

To his delight you do take a seat and discuss the issues with the Compound hospital. The Doctor focused on the long hours, disproportionate pay to Capitol doctors, and few resources. 

You were more patient focused. You talked about rehabilitative care outside of the hospital. The food offered to recovering patients was poor which he could attest to. Beds were too hard, you wanted patients to be able to reach home and talk to their families more, resources were an issue for you too but in a patient care angle rather than a hindrance to your innate ability to save the injured. 

You spoke passionately. It was wonderful to listen to you, Coriolanus almost felt bad that he had pushed the call button to his head peacekeeper nearly five minutes ago. He would have let you talk for as long as you liked. Sat happily without a word so long as you were speaking to him, but the Doctor would be back soon, plan B had to be set into action. 

Coriolanus could see the Commander, and a string of Peacekeepers with guns as they came from across the field. It was impressive timing given that the file would have been put in the Commanders hands only a few minutes ago.

He tried to focus on you as you talked. Revell in your attention, and joy before it was ripped away. 

You turn as you hear the marching

“What is going on?” Coriolanus questioned with fake outrage.

“Senator Snow, it is with great displeasure that I must announce that we have been harboring a traitor to Panem”.

“Traitor?” you gasp.

The Commander throws the fabricated file on the desk for all to see. 

You take a look at a picture that had been manipulated to look as if you were talking to a man in the forest. Others show you talking to the same man in the middle of town, and rooms you had never seen before. Copies of notes in your handwriting passed Compound information along, and spoke of recruiting injured patients. 

“Victorn layman. A known rebel who has been successful in many of his attacks, no doubt thanks to you”, the Commander accuses. 

“I have never seen that man before, I swear”, you turn to Coriolanus with pleading eyes

“The evidence doesn’t lie”, the Commander screeched, “Cuff her, and throw her in the gaol”.

“Wait” you implore as the heavy cuffs are secured around your wrists, “I am not a traitor”. 

“Commander, please. There must be a mistake”, Coriolanus felt compelled to speak on your behalf. 

“If there is, Mr Snow, the committee of justice will reach the bottom of it”, the Commander promises. If Coriolanus didn’t hold control over the situation, it would have worried him. The committee of justice was very rarely, if ever, interested in justice. 

Two Peacekeepers take each of your arms to push you forward. Coriolanus has to clench his fist to stop himself from tearing you free from them. 

You call for him to do something as they lead you to the jail, but he watches with the needle still in his arm. The Doctor returns to see you being taken away by the Peacekeepers. 

Coriolanus rips the needle from his arm, leaving it dangling as he walks away from the Doctor full of questions. 

Plan B would drive you into his arms, or the grave. 

He lets your brew in the compound jail for a week as the committee of justice overlooks your case. 

The day they declare you guilty and sentence you to death by hanging. He knew you were ready for the picking. 

That night he visits you, sure that you would now see the light. 

He enters the compound jail, and saw you on the floor in the furthest corner.  

The jail cell was bare, apart from a toilet. 

A long stretch of bars that enclosed a dirty, concrete floor. You were alone, per his request, but not even a blanket was given to you. 

You look up at him as he enters. His hands were in the pocket of his coat. His shoulders were square, and his hair was neatly pushed back into small curls. 

“Nurse Y/n. I hate to see you like this”. 

You scramble up from the floor towards him as you speak. 

“Senator Snow, I didn’t do it. I am not a traitor”, you explain. 

“The evidence would suggest otherwise”

“It’s not true” you shake your head, the tears fall off your cheek, “I swear. I swear I have no idea what is going on.”

Seeing you like this felt right. He was back in the position of power. Like Lucy-Gray you were trapped where he could always find you. You depended on him for food and water. 

He holds tightly onto the iron bars, and presses his face as close as he could, 

“I could get you out’’. 

Your face seemed hopeful. He hated to crush it moments later. 

“If you reconsider my offer of the Capital”. 

You rub your face with your hands. Your tears were yet to stop spilling. 

“Why are you doing this?”, you sob. 

“I don’t want to”. He pushes his whole body as close as he could to the bars, but you remain five feet away. 

“I owe you my life. I just want to help.”

“I didn’t do it!”, you exclaim.

“Y/n, they are going to hang you for treason If you don’t accept my offer. Please. I just want to help”.

“I don’t-’ a sharp breath interrupts your sentence, “I have never- I don’t know that man.”

“It doesn’t matter. Come noon tomorrow, you’ll hang”.

“Please, don’t let them.”

You move to the other side of the bars from him. Your hand curled under the same bars, just under his hand.

“I won’t. You just have to say it”, he speaks softly and slowly, peering down at you, “Coriolanus Snow, I am yours”.

“You said I saved your life. It would make us even”. 

Coriolanus shakes his head

‘’I can protect you only if you are mine. Say it’’, he demands. 

You’re silent for a moment causing Coriolanus to worry that you would not accept his offer. Was he so bad that you would choose the noose over him? 

“I don’t want to die”, you admit finally. 

He reaches through the bars to your waist, pulling you as far as he could to him.  You keep your hands tight around the metal.

“You saved my life, let me save yours. I just need to hear those five little words”.

“I’ll go back to the Capitol?”, you asked. 

“Yes, with me. Far from the noose”.

You squeeze your eyes shut, and your hands tighten around the bars, but you nod your head.

“Coriolanus Snow”, he begins for you. 

You take a big breath but finally say the words he had been longing to hear. 

“Coriolanus Snow, I am yours”. You repeat. 

He smiles, moving his hands from your waist up to your face so he could wipe away the tears.

He brings your face as close as he could to the bars and kisses you. The bars hindered his passion. His lips would only barely press against yours. 

When he pulls away he keeps your face in his hands as he speaks. 

“You’ll be okay. Peacekeepers will come get you early tomorrow morning, and take you to the train. I’ll meet you there, and we’ll leave, okay? We’ll go back to the Capitol to live the life we were supposed to live”, he promises. 

“Tomorrow?”, you question, “no, you said you could get me out”. 

You pull back out of his hold and he returns his hands to the bars. 

“I can. But if I whisk you away under the cover of night, how will that look? Like a guilty person laying down for the right man? Tomorrow it will look like they are taking you back to the Capitol for further investigation. In the Capitol I can clear your name.’’ 

You go further away from him, centering yourself in your cell. He wanted to reach out and pull you back but you were too far out of his grasp. 

“This is my home. These people are my family” you say softly. 

“And look how quickly they have turned on you. If it wasn’t for me, they would watch you hang tomorrow.”

Your eyes fill up with tears again. He had hit a sore spot. 

“Hey, I am sorry. Come here”. 

His hands stretch through the bars for you but you don’t move from your spot. 

The tears turn into a scolding look causing him to retract himself from the bars, feeling foolish once more. 

He turns to leave, but being alone in the dark cell panicked you. 

“Wait”, you call out. He turns to see you reaching through the bars for him, “Don’t leave me here. Please.”

Coriolanus returns back to the cage, taking your hands in his, and kissing them. 

“You stayed by my bed. I’ll stay by your cell”.

“Coriolanus. Get me out please”, you beg. You couldn’t stand one more night in the cold cell. 

“Tomorrow, my love”, he comforts. 

Your hands felt like ice in his hold. He should have come the first night to make sure that you at least had a blanket and pillow. He hadn’t meant for such poor conditions. What if you got sick from the damp, cold cell. 

He reaches out to your shoulders. They were cold to touch. His poor sweet girl was cold and hungry. Tomorrow neither of you would be ever again. 

He takes off his jacket and passes it through the bars, over your shoulders. 

“Lay down”, he requests “When you wake all of this will just be a bad dream”. 

You do lie down on the ground, and Coriolanus follows.

He lays down outside of the cell, but puts his hand through to hold yours through the bar. 

With his spare hand he rubs your back to provide warmth and comfort until you fall asleep. 

He shivers on the floor without his jacket. But it mattered little to him. 

You would go back to the Capitol with him tomorrow. From there he would rise from senator to President. 

You slept easy next to him. The bars separating your body from his touch. He wanted to hold you. Not only for his own gratification, but to keep you warm through the night. You had become the object of his worry. He had thought that his school-boy anxiety left as he hardened into a man, but he had instead just focused it entirely on you. 

He worried that you would get hypothermia from your week in jail. Then his worry took him to your teeth. When was the last time you had got them checked? It was doubtful that there was an adequate dentist at base. He had never heard of one. What about your iron, and calcium levels? Being part of the Capitol charge surely they would ensure you were fed properly. He remembered being amazed at the food given to the Peacekeepers but that was a low bar.

He would get you checked over by his doctor once you got home. Then he would take you out for something nice to eat. Maybe, you would want to watch a show,  even if you wanted to go home and lay in bed with him that would be fine too. 

He was so close to it all. After this feat, there was nothing stopping his way to the top. He would be president after a term as a senator. You would be first lady. Spend your days shopping, and organizing dinners. 

He would pay you back for your kindness at his deathbed. He laughs quietly thinking that it was Lucy-Gray who showed him the path to you. 

When you woke the next morning, Coriolanus and his jacket were gone. Instead, a Peacekeeper greeted you by yanking you up from the floor by your arm. 

You stumbled as he cuffed you and pushed you forward out of the cell. 

It was early morning, but most people were already up to see you being manhandled into a Peacekeeper van. 

You had no way of blocking your face to hide your shame. The van had a thin fabric roof, and doors that shut waist height.

People stared as you passed them in the van. People who had known you since you were a little girl stood as you were whisked away as a traitor. 

The Peacekeeper took you to the train station as promised where you were taken out of the van by a Capitol Peacekeeper who led you to the right carriage. 

Coriolanus stood by the door waiting for you. His shoulders sagged upon seeing your tears. The Peacekeeper hands Coriolanus the keys to your cuffs, stating it was his decision to release you or not. 

As soon as the Peacekeeper leaves, he rushes over to you to undo the cuffs. 

“Just for appearances” he comments. 

“They all looked at me like I was a traitor”, you sobbed. 

“When we reach the Capitol we will clear your name”, He promises, coming back to stand in front of you. 

“But i’ll never see them again to tell them the truth”. 

He brings you into his shoulder to cease the sound of your wailing. He couldn’t see why it mattered so much if they thought you were a traitor. You were right, you would never see them again. 

“It’s alright”, he comforts. 

You wrap your arms around the back of his shoulders as you cry. After a minute or two Coriolanus could no longer take it. He hated the sound of you crying. He thought he could be a fierce husband, but now he was sure to fold every time you wanted something. 

You had slowed enough that he could pull away slightly to look at you. Your eyes were swollen, your cheeks and nose were red. The way you sounded, your nose was blocked from your tears. 

“They will know the truth. I’ll ensure it”, he vows. “But until then you’ll just have to settle for me knowing the truth”. 

He takes another step away from you, reaching for the bedroom door. 

“Me, and him”, he teases. 

As the door opens a small, white puppy with a large pink bow around its neck bounces out. 

You gasp as you bend down to pat the dog. It jumped up at you, running in circles and then jumping up to place its paws on your knees. 

“He’s yours”, Coriolanus says, “You’ll have to name him”.

You wipe away your tears, but your smile is still sad. He would have to work harder to please you. 

“He’s beautiful. Thank you”, your voice is small, and hoarse from the crying. 

“And there’s a whole wardrobe, and jewelry for you if you want to take a shower”, he offers.  

Another misstep from a man so calculated. You rise from the floor with an angry expression. 

“I am lucky you were expecting me”, you mocked. 

“If I hadn’t been you would be looking at the noose”, Coriolanus spat back. 

It was too late to turn back now. 

His comment silenced you, and Coriolanus took the opportunity to take your hand and lead you through the bedroom to the bathroom door. 

“Come on. You’ll feel better after a shower. Take your time. I’ll wait out in the common area”, he said. 

You don’t answer him as you enter the bathroom. 

You take a long time to join him in the common room. He had ordered morning tea, and coffee. He felt too uneasy to eat the biscuits, and small sandwiches offered so they were still available for you, but the coffee had long gone cold before you re-entered his presence. 

Your hair was dripping down the dress you had put on. There were no shoes on your feet, or jewelry hanging off you. He was glad you were comfortable, but you looked uncared for. Which was not the case. 

Your little dog barked upon seeing you which made you smile and say hello. Coriolanus was glad that he decided against passing the dog to the attendants. At least the dog offered an ice breaker. 

“Feel better?”, he asks. He stands as you move to sit in the booth. 

“Yes, thank you”.

 As you sit Coriolanus moves with you. Wedging you between him and the wall. 

“Your hair is still wet”, he comments.

A thick napkin is used by him to press the water out the ends of your hair. 

“I had no energy to dry it”, you admit. 

“Yes, I am sure this has been a lot for you”, he agrees, “but it’s almost over. As soon as we reach the Capitol that’s the end of it”. 

He moves the napkin to rub it against the top to absorb moisture. It leaves your hair messy, and frizzy. He tries to fix it, gently clawing his fingernails through to soothe the uncooperative hairs. 

“There” he says, “good as new”. 

The dog barks as he runs around the room, exploring. Coriolanus wanted to kick it out but he knew it would upset you. 

 “Are you hungry?”, he asks. 

You shake your head ‘no’, and turn from him to look out the window. 

He allows you your peace. The dog is too loud. He would have to get it trained, but for now it filled the awkward silence. 

Looking for something to do, he straightens the table fixtures. Making sure everything was perfectly in its place. 

You lean against the glass instead of on him, which annoyed Coriolanus. 

The only time you broke stature was when Coriolanus picked up the dog and placed him in between the seat. He didn’t like it there after he got bored with you and whined to be put down. 

Besides that you sat and stared out the window until it became night. He couldn’t get you to eat anything. You had drunk some water which made him worry less, but you wouldn’t speak to him, and he didn’t want to come across needy by constantly talking to you with no response. 

He had a speech to write for an upcoming bill proposal which engaged him throughout the day, but night fell and he was ready to connect with you. 

He didn’t ask as he tugged you from your seat, and back to the bedroom. You didn’t fight him as he led. Coriolanus kicks the door shut on the yapping dog, hoping it would go to sleep. 

You turn to open the door to the dog, but he catches your arms to continue the way into the bedroom closest. 

“Given that there are not too many leisurely trips to the districts there is only one suitable bed, so we’ll have to share”, he encourages. 

He passes you a nice pair of pajamas to change into which you accept. 

‘And when we reach the Capitol. What will be your excuse then?”. 

He couldn’t tell if you meant it in a criticizing way. Your voice was light as if it was a joke, but even toned enough to make him consider it as a genuine question. 

He tried to appease both possible situations with a humorous answer. 

“Bed bugs”. 

It earns a scoff in a light hearted manner. His school-boy smile returned to his face like it did when you used to sit by his bed and talk during the night. 

You hum before you disappear into the bathroom to change. The smile is still on Coriolanus’s face as he dresses for bed. 

He had his joy back after it being ripped from his hands since the dark days. 

When you come back out you are silent once more. Your expression had changed to one of deep and unpleasant contemplation. 

“Are you okay?”, he asks.

You brush past him without an answer to the door. You find it’s locked but you try and force it open. The force of the door causes the dog to begin his nonsense again. 

“What are you doing?” he questions.

You looked dazed as he neared you. He gently takes your elbow and leads you back to the bed. 

He lets go of you to toss the pillows around but speaks to keep you focused. 

“You nearly died today. You must be feeling all sorts of emotions”.

He remembered how it felt to knock on death's door. He almost feels his scar burn under your watchful gaze.  

“It was you, wasn’t it?”, you whisper. 

“Pardon?”. He almost coaks upon hearing it. He knew you would figure it out with some distance, but he had planned for you to already be in love. Maybe with a child or two. 

“It was you. Who planted that evidence to get me to come with you”, you state it this time round as a fact instead of a question. It made Coriolanus sweat. 

“How dare you” he acts astonished, “ After everything I have done for you. How could you suggest that?”.

Something in you registers. You take a look around at the train that raced you to the Capitol. A place you became a stranger to long ago, and a place where he held all the power. There was no getting off this train. Your fate had been sealed.

You smile at him lightly, “I don’t know. I am sorry. Forget it”, you brush off, “Bridge over water”.

He pulls back the covers as he repeats your sentiment “Bridge over water”. 

[gatitties]

Hi! Love your work!

I was wondering if you could do a headcannon with the straw hats in the skypiea arc, if a child reader got merked by Enel (maybe not actually dead just looks as if) and what would be the reactions? And action taken?

Feel free to ignore (please dont😭) bye bye!!

─Strawhats x child!reader (platonic)

─Summary: general headcanons of you being attacked in Skypiea

─Warnings: none

oh!! don't worry I barely ignore requests, I just take a long time to write 😔✋🏻

─ The moment you arrive at Skypiea the crew may give you up for lost, you are a curious child and this whole world of clouds keeps you distracted long enough to forget that you have a crew with which to continue a journey.

─ Everyone is so immersed in the place and its customs that they don't seem to notice how you enter that jungle full of enormous trees.

─ How you stayed alive during all that time of exploration taking into account that you were a wanted criminal for not having paid the initial bail, the number of wild animals in the forest and even Enel's priests is a mystery.

─ You come face to face with Enel, in reality, he approached you because he could feel you, being the weakest link he thought it wouldn't be fun for someone like you to be in his death game, so he decided to get rid of you before it started.

─ You put up a good fight ─bites─ but you didn't have enough skill to defeat the self-proclaimed God, running away only served you for a while until your energy was completely exhausted.

─ Enel's first mistake was thinking that you wouldn't need an attack that was too powerful to knock you out of the game, although you got a good spark, since you started traveling with this crew your body had learned to withstand a certain amount of pain, in short, you did not have the same resistance or abilities that a child your age would have, which helped you stay alive.

─ Robin was the one who found you, despite having just gotten out of her own fight, finding you limp on the ground with barely any breathing made all the pain in her body disappear, she crouched down and took you in her arms in the hope of reaching as soon as possible with the rest, but especially with Chopper so that he could treat you if he could.

─ Everyone seemed gathered except Nami, everyone was completely hurt, their expressions only darkened more when they saw how Robin brought your body, Luffy clenched his fist in anger when he saw you, not knowing if you were going to open your eyes, Usopp hugged Zoro praying in murmurs as Sanji and Chopper approached you.

─ Luffy didn't even wait to find out if you were okay or not, he simply started running towards Enel again, not only for revenge but to rescue Nami as well, Sanji joined in after knowing that you would be in the hands of the crew's doctor.

─ The others couldn't do much more than watch, hoping it wasn't the worst.

─ Everyone's face seemed to light up when you began to cough desperately, you opened your eyes and moved like a fish out of water, when you adjusted to the lighting you found everyone's face looking closely at you.

─ Everything continued as it should, maybe Enel took a couple more punches than necessary while fighting Luffy, but the important thing was that you didn't have any casualties during the trip.

─ Maybe it's a little more annoying for you now, but the crew refused to let you wander alone when there would be potential dangers lurking, so your exploration time was over, only until you could escape of course.

[moremaybank]

SOMETHING STUPID — s.h

pairing steve harrington x fem!reader

summary steve's overwhelmed by the love he feels for you and blurts out a question he can't take back. he's sure you'll think he's crazy, but do you?

warnings language, but it's basically just a whole lotta fluff and steve being the cute cutie he is

author's note did i pull inspo from haley’s dad’s speech in oth?? hell yes. also, i'm really happy with how this turned out, not gonna lie. please read if you have the chance, it'll make my day ♡︎

steve masterlist

When Steve steps through the door after work with an exhausted sigh, he’s pleasantly surprised. He’s spent his entire life coming home to an empty house, always filled with a blaring silence that acted as a daunting reminder of how lonely he felt deep down inside. There was never anyone around to ask him how his day was. What was going on in his life, or if he was happy — and not the phoney kind. 

He’s so used to weathering the storm on his own, day in and day out, that he’s completely forgotten someone will be there for him this time. The previously empty home is now occupied by you and your bright, loving energy. The quiet was replaced with your music bouncing off the walls. You’re active in the mostly untouched kitchen, baking to your heart’s content and constantly stuffing your Stevie’s face full of sweets. 

Steve finally feels as if he truly has a home, and not just a place where he stores his belongings and rests his head at night. 

He makes his way through the halls, finally reaching the entryway to the kitchen and leaning against the doorframe. The dimmed lights glow throughout the room, and the artfully scattered candles burn brightly in the darkened space. Further adding to the already homey atmosphere, the sweet aroma of fresh baked goods fills the air, thanks to the chocolate chip cookies you have baking in the oven. Even with all of this going on, though, Steve can only seem to focus on one thing. 

You. 

Your frilled socks glide against the kitchen floor as you jump and twirl around on the tiles. The sound of Say You Love Me by Fleetwood Mac quells the silence, your record player turned up the highest it can go (because, in your professional opinion, there was no other way to listen to music). You pull out your signature dance moves, screwing your eyes shut and kicking your legs in the air so many times that Steve fears you’re in an imaginary fight with someone — and losing. Terribly. He also takes notice of the spatula in your hand, acting as a stand-in microphone while you lip-sync along to the lyrics. 

You’re a goofball, through and through. Still, though, Steve is utterly smitten.

“Sweet moves, baby,” he says, loud enough to be heard over the music. 

Your eyes go wide as your body stills, completely mortified that Steve has caught you in your own little world. You turn the music down, swiping the stray hairs away from your slightly sticky forehead and clearing your throat. 

“Steve! H-hey. I was just, uh…cleaning the floors. You know, makin’ them all nice and shiny for you,” you laugh uneasily. It’s complete crap and you both know it, but you’re desperate. Frankly, you’ll say anything if it means distracting Steve from this whole performing your own world tour in the middle of the kitchen thing. 

Steve cocks a brow, tongue poking his cheek as he tries to hide the grin that threatens to come into view. “Hm,” he hums, “cleaning the floors, huh?”

“Yup.”

“…With your socks?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, still slightly breathless, “It’s a…great way to incorporate exercise into daily household chores.”

Steve tries to stop it, but he can’t help but let a laugh escape from his lips. He walks over to you, arms wide open and ready to encircle around you. “C’mere, you goof. Gimme some sugar.”

You break out into a grin, happily stepping into your boyfriend’s embrace and giving him a tight hug. You feel his hands smooth down your back before wrapping around your waist and holding you tighter to him. After a moment, you pull away, and your hands come up to his face so you can press your lips to his. He hums into the kiss contently, melting into the touch he’s been longing all day for. 

“Missed you so much,” Steve pouts, his bottom lip jutting out adorably. 

“I missed you too,” you reply, granting him another kiss. “How was your day?”

Before Steve can answer, Say You Love Me comes to a stop, and the soft sounds of Landslide begin to bleed into the silence. Choosing to let you enjoy your favourite song, Steve shrugs it off, “We can talk about that later, wanna dance with you.”

Steve extends his hand toward you, silently asking for you to join your hand in his. You smile, sliding your palm into his and letting him pull you to his chest. He keeps his other hand on the small of your back, and your free arm curls around his shoulder as the two of you begin to sway together in time with the music. Steve feels you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck and relax further into his hold, and he lets the voice of Stevie Nicks wrap around you both like a warm blanket as he holds you. 

The two of you sway back and forth, taking a peaceful moment to feel your hearts beat against one another. Steve never wants to let go. This is the closest and most intimate he’s ever felt with anyone, and that should scare him, he thinks. But it doesn’t, because being with you feels like heaven on earth. He can’t believe that he’s found someone who makes his heart soar the way you do. Who makes him smile so hard his cheeks hurt, and gives him a love so deep and true that it’s become a vital part of him. Just thinking of you makes his knees weak.

He’s completely enamoured by you.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask, breaking him free from his thoughts as you pull away from his grasp slightly. 

Steve looks down at you, remaining silent, and his gaze flashes over your features. The kind eyes he feels he’s always known. The tiny scar near your temple from where you’d gotten stitches as a child. The curve of your lips and how he swears he can feel them gliding over his own every single time he thinks about them. He then moved onto the oversized t-shirt your body is clad in — one you’d obviously stolen out of his closet, and the pair of boxers hanging from your hips (also swiped from his wardrobe). Your aforementioned frilly socks pulled your signature at-home look together, one that brought an incredible amount of comfort to Steve. It shows him that you consider his home to be your home too. That you’ve found a home in him, just as he has with you.

He can see himself doing this whole life thing with you forever, and he can’t explain it, but he suddenly feels compelled to speak up, and the words tumble from his lips before he can stop them. 

“Do you wanna get married?” 

Your head shoots up, and you peer up at him with a look of shock. “I’m sorry, w-what?”

Steve’s eyes threaten to bulge out of their sockets, and his heart rate skyrockets as the panic waves through him. “Oh god, I- I said that out loud,” he says, slowly letting go of you and running a hand through his long chestnut locks. “Wow. Uh— Okay.”

“Did— Did you just ask me to marry you?” You stammer, quiet as a mouse. You don’t move. Steve doesn’t think you can. 

It’s obvious that you think he’s gone certifiably insane. His hands raise in defence, and he manages to start blurting out everything he can in an attempt to rectify the situation. “Listen, baby, we can totally act like that never happened—”

“Steve—”

“—In fact, it didn’t. I have no idea what you’re talking about, babe. No freakin’ idea—”

Finally, your hand cups over his mouth to stop him from rambling any further. His last few words sound muffled before they eventually come to a stop once he realizes what’s happening. His fingers curl around your wrist, moving your hand from his lips before giving you a small, sheepish smile. His cheeks flush profusely, “Sorry.” 

Oh, the things Steve would do if it meant he could take back the last few minutes of his life and go back to before he opened his big mouth and ruined everything. It’s not that he doesn’t want to marry you. That’s definitely not the case. But the regret he’s currently feeling after watching your horrified reaction play out…it’s enough to make him want to jump into his pool and never come back up for air. 

But then…when your eyes seem to light up and a small smile curves your lips upward, he thinks there just might be some hope left for him. 

“You wanna marry me?” You questioned, your hands finding solace on his lower arms. “Why?”

His brows pull together in confusion? Why? He can see the doubt eating away at you by how small you’ve become in the past few seconds. Are you truly doubting how much you mean to him? How much you’ve spun his world on its axis and changed him forever? 

“I— What?” 

“Why would you want me to marry you?”

“Yeah, I got that, I just…are you serious?” You nod, giving him the slightest shrug. Your shyness is peaking through far too much for you to offer him any more of a reaction. 

A soft and gentle laugh slips past his lips and his body relaxes. His warm palm smoothes up your arm and finds its resting place at the base of your jaw. His thumb swipes over your skin, and his warmth bleeds through your flesh. All the love he holds in his heart for you floats up to his eyes, and his chocolate orbs soften. He’s never felt so tender and full of affection as he does now. 

“You have no idea how special you are to me, do you?” 

He says it with such conviction that you know the words are true to his heart. Still, the way they hit you is all too much, and you can’t help but deflect them with a tiny joke. Your eyes fall away from his. “I mean, I figured you liked me a little.” 

“Stop,” he chides, albeit gently. He guides your gaze back onto his. “I’m serious.” 

It’s your turn to apologize as your cheeks heat up. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry. Just, hear me out.” 

“Okay,” you murmur. 

His left hand mirrors the hold his right one has on your face. The ring you gifted him for your first anniversary is cold against your skin. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and he takes a breath before speaking. “You— You’re staggering, honey. You’ve given my heart a home. You’ve had it since the moment I met you, and you’ve kept it safe. Cherished it and nurtured it. You’ve given me everything I’ve ever wanted. I— I look into your eyes and it's like I can see the rest of my life inside ‘em.” 

Your heart melts, and you feel the tears start to pool in the brims of your eyes. “Steve,” you whisper. 

“I have no idea what’s going to happen in the future. Not a freakin’ clue, especially with all the supernatural shit that goes on in this town. But I do know that you’re supposed to be in it. You are my future, baby. I might not know a lot, but I do know this. You are the girl I’m going to spend my life loving. And I’m gonna give you everything if you’ll let me.”

His heartfelt words are almost enough to make you forget about your doubts. You want them to. But you can’t seem to quiet the worries circling inside your head. 

“Steve, I love you. You know I do. But, aren’t we too young? I don’t want to risk losing you. I don’t think I could take it if I did.” 

His hands slide down your neck and land on your shoulders. His warmth spreads through you again, and already, you feel better. It’s almost as if all he has to do is exist to wash your fears away. 

“I know. I know we’re young. But, so what if we are? To me, that just means I get to be with you even longer.” One hand abandons your shoulder, and he hooks his index finger under your chin. The pad of his thumb strokes over the tip of your chin. Eyes boring into your soul, he holds them captive. “You can drive at sixteen, drink at twenty-one, retire in your sixties. How old do you have to be to know that your love will last? ‘Cause I know my answer, down to the second.” 

You can’t seem to hide the smile that forces its way onto your lips. The sincerity in his gaze, the vulnerability he’s shown you since day one, it’s all too much. You can’t imagine ever walking away from him, can’t imagine what your life would be like if he wasn’t in it. Mornings you shared where he’d pout as soon as you mentioned getting out of bed. Picnics on warm summer days. Hearing him sing along to the radio in the car. You want those memories and every single one that would come to you in the future — your future with him. 

“Ask me again.” 

“Yeah?” He smiled. 

“Yeah,” you confirmed. But just as he’s about to do as you asked, half of the words leaving his mouth, you can’t contain the excitement. Your lips slam onto his as you pull him closer. You murmur a few yesses against his lips and feel them spread into a grin. Soon, his arms are wrapped around your waist and he’s lifting you up and into the air, spinning you around with joy. The kitchen is soon filled with giggles, and Steve is exclaiming your news loudly, even though you’re both alone.

“We’re getting married, sweetheart!”

STEVE TAG LIST (JOIN HERE): @oncasette @taintedxkisses @findapenny @bmo-bri @hemogloban @slytherhoes @shawnspoems @vigilanteshitposting @poppet05 @earth2starkey @aerangi @cantstoptherecs @sarah5462 @slut4drudy @cilliansangel @darleneslane @sya-skies @gillybear17 @lovelyxtom @rcbuttercup @redhead1180 @runningfrom2am @thejuleshypothesis @scarlettocean @subconsciouscollapse @violetmacher @iluvteyqmm @buckyisveryhot

[neum6ns]

little headcanons for vickys powers bc they r so inconsistent it drives me crazy and i’ve made these all up in my head to act like she didn’t die an unfinished character:

after victoria blew up congress in s2, that woman SLEPTTT. we know that blood manipulation in the boys universe is tiring, victoria says it to marie in gen v, so imagine popping 12+ heads one after another… yeah she was exhausted. she literally ran on coffee and energy drinks for the next few days.

she can constantly hear people’s heartbeats and blood flow and it drives her crazy. i feel like she can hear heartbeats the same way cate can hear everyone’s thoughts - that it’s insanely overwhelming. she can definitely tune them out, it just takes a lot of strength and power. her favourite thing is just being alone with zoe, her heartbeat is the only one she can tolerate.

her eyes only turn white when she uses a lot of her powers (blood manipulation or extra durability). because there is no way in hell one of the smartest the boys characters tried to explode homelander’s head on live television - and that her eyes would turn white even though she didn’t succeed? the only reason they did turn white is because she tanked HOMELANDERS LASERS. like that’s an insane feat and ppl don’t credit my girl enough for that smh 😒

i wish we could see vicky with constant white eyes in the hearing scene in s2 but curse you eric kripke!! i love those pretty eyes 😖 (dare i say she has the second best supe eyes in the whole show! my fave is stormfronts, her powers are so cool)

one of my favourite headcanons is that she used to increase her heart rate around homelander to act like she was scared. especially in her first scene in the show when he swoops down and takes the microphone from her. she could’ve popped his head right there, she had minutes to do it, but instead she acted like she was scared - speeding up her heart rate to not give anything away. ugh she’s so smart and perfect.

in my little fanon world vicky did put herself back together after she was so wrongfully killed (😑). but putting herself back together came at a cost and she lost her powers. vicky had always known in the back of her mind just how powerful she was, stan had been telling her that her whole life. she always knew that if something like that happened, she would be able to come back. her body slowly stitched itself back together, making completely new organs and even more blood! her organs were completely made out of her old blood and guts tho, kinda like patchwork jeans! but they work… so they’re good enough for her.

lemme know if you guys would want more stuff like this! i have a whole essay written about how wrong they did her character, how they should’ve done her powers and ended her storylines but… thats the autism speaking

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 67

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe: Military School

Words: 6K

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Friday, March 5th; 11:15 PM - On the plane.

"Sweetheart," Lucy whispers to me. "We're about to land."

I groan, sinking into what seems to be her neck, judging by the familiar scent reaching my nose. I’m so comfortable. I don’t want to open my eyes, but I feel like I have to when she alternates between caressing and shaking my thigh. A grumble escapes me, making my girlfriend laugh.

"Come on, sleepyhead. Don't make me take drastic measures."

I can’t help but smile. I missed that nickname.

"I’d like to see you try."

My voice is rough, betraying my six hours of sleep. Lucy runs her hand through my hair, making me hum with satisfaction. Reuniting with her after a week of classes feels so good. I’ve worked so hard that I’m completely drained. I pull back to stretch, and Lucy waits until I’m done to kiss me. I glance to the other side, where Ingrid is still lost in her own world with her headphones on. Either she woke up before me, or she hasn’t moved since takeoff.

"Am I the only one who slept?" I ask.

"Mmhmm," she teases.

I sigh and cuddle back against Lucy. We still have a few minutes left. She kisses the top of my head, making me shiver.

"It feels like ages since I’ve been home."

"A month," Lucy comments.

"It feels longer."

It really does. Ingrid and Mapi had started dating at my place. A little month, and yet so much happiness has been shared since then. I hope it lasts. The plane lands smoothly, and the passengers disembark with a bit of jostling. Shay wasn’t here this time, but I hope to see her on the way back. I liked her. We make our way to the terminal. Hector is picking us up, but I’m not surprised to see Mapi by his side. She rushes into her beloved’s arms, who welcomes her warmly. We take the opportunity to greet my driver, who seems happy to see us again. After picking up our luggage, we head out. I sit up front to give Mapi and Ingrid time to catch up. As for me, I’ll have plenty of time to enjoy the arms of my girlfriend, which I missed so much last night. I sleep much better with her, but I’m not complaining. We have weekends, and not everyone is that lucky. 

The ride is short. Mapi's conversations make time fly. Everyone seems full of energy except me, even though I slept. I’m lucky my suitcase is the lightest. I didn’t bring much, following Lucy’s advice. That way, I’ll be able to bring some stuff back to Manchester. Our move is progressing, and it makes me happy. When we arrive at the house, I expect Lucy to greet me, but to my surprise, my mom welcomes us instead.

"Good evening, girls. I hope you had a good trip."

"Hey, Mom. Yeah, it wasn’t too bad."

"Speak for yourself. You slept the whole way," Ingrid mocks, making Mapi laugh.

I glare at her, but Lucy quickly pulls me into her arms to ease my tension.

"Okay, that’s enough."

"Can we go upstairs?" I suggest with a tired sigh.

I’m not in the mood to face everything right now, even though I came to settle many things. Lucy smiles and kisses my forehead.

"Yes, I think we’re all exhausted."

"We’ll chat tomorrow morning over breakfast," my mom agrees.

"You’ll be there?" I ask, surprised.

"I’m on duty for a few hours in the late afternoon tomorrow, but otherwise, I’m free for the weekend. I had some hours to take, so I arranged it because I knew you’d be coming."

"Oh... okay. Do you know if Joan is in my room?"

"I don’t think so. I put him to bed in his own room, and I haven’t heard a peep since. Who knows, maybe he’s changed rooms."

I nod and thank her for the info, though it doesn’t help much. We exchange goodnights before heading upstairs. The girls take their usual room, and Lucy and I go to mine. I don’t turn on the light until I’m sure my brother isn’t there. Surprisingly, he’s really not, but I’m not going to complain. It means I can enjoy Lucy’s company as much as I want.

"I’m going to change," Lucy announces after rummaging through her suitcase.

"Yep. Hurry up."

She winks at me before slipping behind the bathroom door. She acts like she’s at home, and I love it. I quickly change in the dressing room, wearing one of my dad’s old T-shirts. I don’t bother with shorts since the shirt falls almost mid-thigh. Lucy’s seen me in less, and I feel comfortable with her now. It’s not like she’d take advantage of the situation. I’m done by the time she reopens the door. I join her to brush my teeth, admiring her curves highlighted by a tank top and shorts while she finishes the task herself.

"I’m almost done," she says with a mouthful.

"Take your time," I reply with a smile.

She rinses and wipes her mouth, finally giving me space. I quickly brush my teeth and rush to join her in bed, where she’s already lying down. I make sure to turn off all the lights before lying beside her. A satisfied sigh escapes me. I particularly love my bed, especially when I’m sharing it with Lucy.

"For a change, could you hold me tonight?" she asks unexpectedly.

Her request catches me off guard, but I immediately turn toward her and wrap my arms around her.

"You don’t need to ask," I murmur. "Come here."

A few seconds later, I can feel her against me, her breath brushing my chest. My T-shirt had ridden up, but I didn’t mind. Lucy took the opportunity to slip her arms underneath. I wasn’t wearing a bra, but she didn’t push the intimacy.

"I missed you," she whispers.

"I missed you too," I admit. "So much."

I kiss her face repeatedly. She hums little sounds of amusement.

"Good night, my love," I finish, kissing her lips.

"Good night," she mumbles in return. "I love you."

Smiling, I fall asleep without any trouble.

Saturday, March 6th; 9:30 AM - At Ona’s house.

The atmosphere in the house felt strange this morning. When Lucy and I came downstairs, I was surprised to find Marcus in the living room, reading the newspaper, waiting for breakfast. That wasn’t all. Samuel wasn’t in the kitchen today. It was my mom making pancakes, burning her fingers in the process, with Joan. Something had definitely changed.

"Morning," I mumbled.

"Ona!"

"Oh, hey girls. Did you sleep well?"

I hugged my brother as Lucy answered my mom, saying everything was fine.

"Where’s Samuel?" I asked.

"I gave him the weekend off. Marcus and I are here, so we didn’t want to bother him."

"Oh..."

I struggled to hide my disappointment. I would have loved to see him again, just like I miss Lucy so much.

"Can we help with anything?" Lucy offered, noticing my reaction.

"The table isn’t set yet, but don’t worry about it. I’ll do it when I’m done here."

"No, we’ll do it," Lucy insisted. "Will you help me, sweetheart? I don’t know where the silverware is."

9

I obey without showing my joy. First, I set Joan down after kissing his cheek. Then, I help Lucy find everything and bring it to the dining room.

"She's trying to be nice, so please, don't lose your temper," my girlfriend scolds me when we're alone.

"Something's off. This house has never been this calm and full before," I say, placing the silverware after Lucy set the plates down.

She stops and cups my face, making it impossible for me to look away.

"Stop overthinking."

"You don't know them," I say, raising my voice in a whisper, forcing her to let go. "They’ve never spent a weekend together at home."

"Maybe they talked things out. Didn’t you say things weren’t going well with Joan?"

"Hmm," I respond uncertainly. "Usually, when things seem this way, something bad is about to happen."

She sighs, offering a small smile.

"Nothing will happen today if you just relax. I'm here, okay? And I always will be. Just stop expecting the worst in this house."

I sigh and nod, struggling to believe her, but I’ll trust her for now. Mapi and Ingrid interrupt us at that moment, and then my mother enters with a huge plate of pancakes. The girls look happy and it’s nice to see. We sit down for breakfast. I’m having a hard time enjoying myself, especially since Joan has placed himself between Lucy and me. I notice he seems more cheerful than last week when he stayed with us. Maybe Lucy is right. Conversations start flowing at the table. I don't feel like joining in, too lost in my thoughts, and Lucy notices. When she finishes eating, she lets her hand linger near my neck, a silent reminder of her support, all while sipping her coffee and engaging in the discussion.

"What do you all have planned today?" my mother asks.

"We’re not sure yet. Nothing special," Lucy replies.

"But I can tell you we won't be here tonight," I say calmly.

"Yeah, it’s going to be a party!" Mapi adds.

"Really? You’re going out? Where to?" my mother asks excitedly.

"Ah, that’s a surprise. It’s our couples' anniversary, so we’re celebrating!" Mapi grins.

"Already? Time flies."

I sigh softly. If Lucy weren’t touching me, I would've gotten up long ago to clear my plate. My mother, sitting next to me at the head of the table, smiles at me timidly, but I don't return it. I feel uncomfortable in this picture-perfect family atmosphere.

"I’d like to take a walk along the beach," I say to Lucy. "It’s been a long time since I’ve been."

"We can go, if you want. The weather looks nice outside, and I haven’t been yet," she replies.

"It’s already warmer than Manchester," I remark.

"You’ll have to get used to it," she teases.

I smile, nodding. It’s the right time to share the news. We haven’t told anyone yet, and while it might seem obvious, it’s good to confirm it.

"I’ve decided to move in with Lucy," I announce bluntly.

"Really?" Ingrid exclaims. "Since when?"

"You two are so secretive, it’s unbelievable," Mapi adds, looking more surprised than anything.

My smile widens despite myself. She really knows how to lighten the mood. I glance at Lucy, who keeps supporting me from where she sits.

"We decided last week."

"Well, the house will stay quiet, then," Marcus comments.

"It’s sudden," my mother adds.

"It was a bit of an impulsive decision," Lucy admits.

"We had a bit of a spat over the gallery’s response," I explain.

"Oh, did you finally get an answer?" my mother asks, surprised. "What did they say?"

"They want to send me to Cardiff. I’m applying elsewhere. We prepared my applications this week, and they were sent yesterday, just before we left."

"But it’s a good opportunity," Marcus remarks.

"I know, but I don’t want to be far from Lucy. I have a meeting with Mr. Fields next Monday. We’ll see how it goes," I shrug. "Either way, my decision is made."

"Let’s wait for the meeting first," my girlfriend interjects. "The decision isn't final yet."

I feel like she still hopes I’ll accept the offer… Or maybe she just wants to reassure my mother and Marcus? Either way, if it’s the first, she’ll have to accept it won’t happen because, for me, it’s already clear.

"Well…" my mother says, getting up from the table.

"You’ll stay for lunch, right? I’m making lasagna."

The girls look at me with starry eyes. I roll mine and end up agreeing to please them. Lasagna, of all things—one of my favorite dishes. At least we’d enjoy the morning here. Everyone pitches in to clear the table first. I'm not sure how it happened, but at one point, I found myself alone with my mother in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher.

"So…" she starts. "Everything’s good with Lucy?"

"Uh, yeah. I think my decision to move in with her says a lot."

"True…"

"And how’s Joan? Is he behaving better?"

I had checked in with her last week to make sure Mapi and Joan had arrived safely. I’d briefly mentioned my concerns, but since it was late in Barcelona, we hadn’t had time to delve deeper into the conversation.

"A little. We’re slowly getting him back on track. Marcus and I have adjusted our schedules so one of us is always around to be with him."

I nod. Lucy was right. That’s already a good step. I didn’t have that privilege. Lucy was the one who took care of me when I got home from school.

"During the day, he’s fine. The main issue is after school. But we can’t always be available; we both have demanding jobs."

"At least he’s seeing you more. What about Sofia and Sam? You’re not planning to let them go, are you?"

"Oh no! They do so much for us that the thought never crossed our minds. Now that we’re around more, we try to give them more time off when it suits them. I think Samuel even went away for the weekend with his boyfriend."

"Okay," I murmur. "That’s good, then."

I turn around when I hear footsteps and feel relieved to see Lucy. Her timing couldn’t have been better. She brings in the last of the dishes. We exchange a smile.

"Need any help here?"

"Oh no, we’re almost done."

"The girls are settled on the couch. Apparently, Joan picked Mulan… The animated one, of course."

I chuckle softly, just imagining Mapi watching a Disney movie. I stop when I realize Lucy is serious.

"Really?"

"Yep. And he’s asking for you, but I bet you guessed that."

I groan, causing my mother to laugh. I hadn’t imagined our morning ending like this, but well, we’re family after all.

"Go ahead. I’ll finish up."

"Thanks."

I put away the last plate before heading off with my girlfriend. She wraps her arm around my shoulders, pulling me close.

"Everything okay?" she asks, kissing my temple.

"Let’s say it is…" I exhale.

"Did she tell you what she wanted to?"

I frown, realizing I’d completely forgotten about that in the middle of everything. She had insisted on sharing some big news.

"No. I forgot all about it. We talked about Joan instead."

"You’ll tell me later," she says as we enter the living room.

The couch has been pulled out into a bed. Our friends are already lying on one side, with my brother in the middle. His face lights up when he sees us.

"Can we start?"

"Yeah, just give us a second," I laugh. "Let us settle in."

I sit next to her and snuggle up to Lucy when she joins me. Maybe this moment won’t be as bad as I thought. My brother starts the movie, but honestly, I don’t pay much attention. I’m too focused on the soothing touch of my girlfriend. It’s so comforting and relaxing.

Saturday, March 6th, 6:30 PM – At Ona’s Place

I’m nervous. I look at myself in the mirror one more time. I think I look beautiful, wearing a dress and heels. I hope Lucy finds me beautiful too. I’m not used to seeing myself like this, even less with Mapi, who’s sitting on my bed looking just as stylish.

"Everything will be fine, you know," she teases. "It’s not like this is your first date."

"I know," I murmur. "Do you have the tickets I asked for?"

"Oh yeah, they’re downstairs," she says, standing up.

"Downstairs? What are they doing down there?"

"Well, did you think I’d risk Ingrid finding them? The last thing I needed was her thinking they were for her, and then I’d have to explain everything."

"Hum..."

I take a deep breath. I’m a little scared. I planned to go to the Barcelona theatre for a show. I had fallen in love with it and wanted Lucy to experience our theatre. This was the perfect opportunity. But of course, dinner had to come first. I chose a casual restaurant. I wanted to impress, but not too much. I wanted it to feel like us. We didn’t need anything grandiose—just a moment to share, like we always love.

"Alright, can we go down? I’m sure the girls are already waiting for us."

"Yeah, I think so."

She laughs, patting my back.

"Come on, stop. You’ve already won her heart. Tonight’s just a romantic evening."

She winks at me, and I smile. She’s right. We just need to enjoy ourselves. That’s the theme of this weekend. The afternoon was already amazing by the beach. I loved seeing it again. I missed the scenery, but I can’t complain about where I am now.

"Let’s go. We don’t want to keep them waiting."

The girls got ready in the guest room that Mapi and Ingrid were staying in. Lucy just grabbed her bag and locked herself in there. Now, I’m eager to see her again. We head downstairs quietly. My anxiety returns as we descend the stairs. I hope we’re the first ones down, but of course, we’re not. Ingrid and Lucy are already there, chatting and even laughing with my mom. She looks stunning, just as I expected. She’s wearing a navy blue dress with an open back. The front is held by a strap around her neck. I stand there for a moment, just admiring her. She’s the first to move, walking toward me in her white heels. She takes my hand to help me down the last few steps and plants a kiss on it.

"You look stunning, my love," she murmurs, pulling me into her arms, making me melt completely.

"You’re not too bad yourself."

She laughs softly. I’m tempted to kiss her, but I remember we’re not alone. Mapi has joined Ingrid, and my mom is watching from the side.

"Shall we go?"

"Yes... Did you manage to get the car keys?"

"Of course. Your mom seems to trust me more than she trusts you."

"That’s undeniable," I say, rolling my eyes, making my girlfriend laugh.

"Have a great evening, girls," my mom says as we head outside.

"Thank you."

Outside, I’m surprised to see not one, but two cars. It makes things easier, but I wasn’t expecting it. There’s Hector’s car and my mom’s.

"Well, I guess this is where we part ways," Ingrid says.

It’s at that moment that I take a good look at her. It’s the first time I’ve seen her looking so different. She’s dressed up for a night out as well.

"Yeah," my girlfriend responds. "Have a great evening on your side. See you later, maybe."

As she speaks, she opens the door to my mom’s Jeep. I get in, feeling a bit uneasy. I don’t have great memories in this car, the few times I’ve been in it. It’s what she used to take me to my detox sessions at the hospital, at least when she could. Lucy takes the driver’s seat, and we’re the first to leave. I’m floating on a little cloud, with her hand resting on my thigh. She hums along to the song on the radio, and after a while, I realize she’s driving without me giving her any directions. Then, I remember—I forgot to get the tickets!

"You know!" I exclaim.

She laughs heartily, squeezing my knee in her palm.

"Sorry, baby. I hope you won’t be mad, but I made a small change to your plans."

"W-what? What do you mean?"

She smiles, glancing at me briefly before turning her eyes back to the road, knowing I prefer that.

"Mapi told Ingrid she was panicking because she lost the tickets for what you had planned, and she didn’t dare tell you."

I widen my eyes. Sure, the theatre was important to me, but I wouldn’t have been mad at Mapi for something out of her control.

"Of course, I found out and contacted Mapi. I offered to take over the planning and make it a last-minute surprise for you. So here we are. I hope you won’t be upset that I made that decision."

I exhale softly. I don’t know if I want to be mad at them or not. I was really looking forward to organizing this evening for once, but at the same time, it’s so sweet. I can’t be mad at her for this. She always wants to make me happy.

"I know you wanted to plan this evening yourself... but I just love surprising you. I can’t help it."

What did I just say? I laugh as she brings my hand to her lips. This woman will drive me crazy. I definitely can’t be mad at her.

"You’re not mad, are you?"

"No... So, what have you planned instead?"

"You’ll find out soon enough. Don’t expect anything wild. It’s just us tonight."

We had the same idea—it���s amazing. I smile, feeling at peace.

"I’m already excited then."

We reach the city center, and I recognize the street we’re on. I think I know where we’re going, but I wait until we’re closer to be sure. She must’ve gotten the idea from Mapi. There’s no other way—she doesn’t know anything about my old life, let alone my habits. She parks the car, and with a squeeze on my thigh, I understand I should stay in my seat. She walks around to open my door and offers me her arm.

"Really?" I tease playfully.

"Only the best for my lady," she replies with a mischievous grin as we start walking.

"But tonight was supposed to be my chance to be the gentlewoman. You missed the boat, what a shame."

She laughs and kisses my cheek.

"This night doesn’t belong to anyone in particular. What I mean is, it’s our night—just the two of us."

"You’re right."

I hold onto her arm and rest my head on her shoulder, smiling as I see the Arkadia sign glowing red in the distance. It’s been a while since I’ve been here.

"You know where we’re going, don’t you?"

I laugh a little, taking my eyes off the sign. She must’ve noticed my gaze. I have a lot of memories here, with Mapi and my high school friends. We used to hang out here a lot when Miller didn’t throw a party. I’m eager to see if the place has changed.

"It was obvious the second you drove by here," I admit.

"I’m becoming predictable—that’s not good."

I giggle again, leaning into her a little more.

"Don’t be silly, baby. It was unexpected, really. I was expecting the theatre, so you know."

"The theatre? That was your plan?"

"Mmhmm," I confirm. "With a nice little dinner before, but yeah."

"I didn’t know you liked that."

"It depends on the show. When my dad came back from missions, he’d take me there every time. I loved going because it was our moment, you know?"

"I see," she smiles. "One day, I’ll take you to the one in Porto."

"Are you crazy? The shows there cost an arm and a leg, and they’re not even the best. But I’d love to visit it. »

- Very well, Princess. We'll visit it when we go to Porto then.  

I smile as she opens the door for me to enter the restaurant/bar. The décor hasn’t changed one bit over the years. It’s a totally modern style with a central bar and all the tables surrounding it.  

- Oh, I can’t believe it... Ona Batlle! It’s been a while!  

- Sterling? I’m surprised. Hey.  

I awkwardly accept his embrace, which catches me off guard. He’s an old high school friend. We were never particularly close. He was an athlete, and we were always in the same class. We know each other that way, but also from a few parties we attended together thanks to mutual friends.  

- How are you? What have you been up to? he asks, stepping back.  

- I’m doing pretty well, I say as I feel a hand slide across my back.  

I glance at Lucy and give her a soft smile.  

- Let me introduce you. Sterling, an old high school classmate. Sterling, this is my girlfriend, Lucy.  

- Well, you must be doing really well, he laughs. Hi.  

He extends his hand to Lucy. She takes it for a polite handshake but doesn’t say anything.  

- Do you still hear from Mapi? he asks. She still comes by here from time to time, unlike you.  

- Oh, yes, yes. We see each other regularly when I’m here. I live in Manchester now. And you, what are you doing here? Do you work here?  

- Yeah, on weekends. I’m still in college, so I need a bit of cash.  

Lucy clears her throat, catching Sterling’s attention. I hold back a smile. She just can’t help herself.  

- I’ve reserved a table for two under the name Woods, she announces.  

- Oh yeah, sure. Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you. It’s just been a while since we last saw each other. Come on, I’ll show you to your table.  

- Could we get one of the round tables in the back? I ask. That’s my favorite spot.  

- Yeah, I think that can be arranged.  

He takes us exactly where I wanted. I love these spots because the seating wraps around the table in an arc, and there are walls that go all the way up to the ceiling, shielding us from the other tables. The other side has chairs, but what I love most is how cozy it feels, making the space less noisy.  

- Here you go, ladies. I’ll leave you with the menus and be back to check on you.  

- Thank you.  

I slide onto the bench first, quickly followed by my girlfriend. This way, we sit side by side.  

- I can see why you like these seats, Lucy murmurs.  

- It’s perfect for tonight, don’t you think?  

- Exactly, she says, picking up the menu. We can eat and have a drink here, right?  

- We don’t have to stay here the whole night.  

- No. This is great for tonight. I even saw a pool table over there...  

- Yeah, there’s a pool table here, I giggle. Maybe it’s time for you to give me a private lesson, you being the expert. Maybe I can finally beat your friends.  

She laughs and nods.  

- That would be an idea, because you’re a walking disaster at pool.  

- Hey, that’s not my fault, I pout.  

- I never said it was, she teases. So, what do you recommend from the menu?  

- Everything, I laugh. No, for real, we could order something to share. Like this dish, look. My friends and I used to get this because it was cheap, and we could split the bill.  

- Don’t worry about the price. I’m paying tonight.  

- No, I always pay! You could let me pay for once!  

- No way, she smiles. Since I planned tonight, I’m going all the way.  

- You have a secret stash of money or something?  

She laughs heartily at my little joke. I actually wonder how much she earns because she never seems to have any complaints, considering what she owns.  

- Nonsense. I’m just well-paid, that’s all. And since I’m still in school, I don’t have daily expenses, so I save a lot. Plus, I got paid for the nights and weekends I worked... thanks to you, by the way, she laughs. So, yeah.  

- Well, when you put it like that... Do you pay for your meals?  

- No, it’s included in my contract, along with my living expenses for staying in the dorm.  

- That’s amazing!  

- Not really. It’s a private school. It’s either you or your parents, in your case, who pay for the teachers. Plus, there are partnerships, like with the government. There aren’t many schools like Camp Wiegman.  

- Did you know the Putellas and Leah and Alessia families ended up there because of a judge? I ask her.  

- Yes, I knew thanks to Ingrid.  

- Does everyone confide in you?  

- Yes. We don’t let students leave until they’ve talked at least once about why they’re there. We want it to have a freeing effect on them, you know? Not everyone has someone to listen to them.  

- That was the case for me, I murmur. But you had to push hard before I opened up.  

- That’s true, she laughs. You weren’t easy, but I understand why. It depends on the case... Like Alexia, for example. Within two weeks, we knew why she and her sister were there. Ingrid practically let her go right away. She was a good student and didn’t have any internal struggles.  

- That doesn’t surprise me. She’s always been happy and studious.  

- She was relieved to be there, you could tell.  

- Well, the school brought them stability, and she no longer had to worry about her sister taking care of everything on her own.  

- That’s true.  

A brief silence falls between us. I close the menu after glancing through it quickly. It hasn’t changed, so I already know what I’m going to order.  

- Have you decided?  

- Yeah. I’m getting what I always get.  

- And what’s that?  

- A Margarita cocktail. It’s excellent here.  

- Well then, I’ll follow your lead.  

The evening goes perfectly. We order quickly, and we talk, laugh, and eat... all while staying close to each other. I wouldn’t trade this night for anything in the world. This was our first night out alone, and I regret that we don’t do it more often. I get to hear numerous anecdotes she shares over drinks and our shared plate.  

- I’ve always wanted to travel, she tells me.  

- Really?  

- Yeah. I think the world hides so many secrets. I’ve never had the chance to go to America, for example.  

- I’ve been there once, I confess. When I was little, but honestly, I don’t remember much.  

- What country did you visit?  

- Cuba, I think, one summer. My mom loves warm places. That’s why she chose Barcelona.  

- Cuba, she murmurs. It must be a beautiful country.  

- I’d love to visit Argentina one day. I hear everything there is gorgeous.  

- That’s true, she agrees, nodding. Egypt too. It must be amazing to see a pyramid. Or New Zealand.  

- Oh, and Japan too! I add.  

- Japan? she raises an eyebrow. I’m not sure you’d like the weather there, she laughs. You’re always complaining about Manchester, and it probably rains even more there.  

- Yeah, well, I’d get used to it. It’s not like a week would kill me.  

- Noted, she smiles, popping one of the last fries from the plate into her mouth.  

- Oh no, I see what you’re up to! You need to stop getting ahead of my surprise ideas.  

- I don’t know what you’re talking about, she replies with a mischievous grin.  

- Yeah, right! You’re always one step ahead of me!  

- You’re exaggerating.  

- No, I giggle. Look at tonight. I had everything planned, and you just flipped it all.  

- I didn’t flip anything, she laughs. Maybe you had something special planned that I didn’t know about? she teases me.  

I blush, remembering what I had intended to do tonight. Maybe now is the time to make my announcement. Lucy notices my state and smiles gently.  

- Oh, so you did have something planned? she teases again.  

- Stop it, I giggle, lightly pushing her away. Or I’ll cancel what I was going to do.  

Oh, threats now?

She laughs but steps back to give me space. I clear my throat and turn slightly on the bench to face her, trying to show her that this is serious. She doesn't take it that way at all. She looks like she's teasing me, with her head resting on her hand and a small smile on her lips. I can't speak anymore. The apprehension of opening up to her leaves me speechless. But she gives me time. So I watch her, especially her beautiful eyes. From the first day, they had haunted me. I could always relive that moment as if it were yesterday. I was frozen, trapped in that disorienting vision. It was silent, for the first time that evening. I take advantage of it to gently touch her beautiful face, tracing its contours. Lucy says nothing. She lets me rediscover her with her eyes closed. I touch everywhere: her eyebrows, her chin, her nose, her lips... I linger on the latter before kissing her as tenderly as possible. We rediscover each other softly before separating again. There's no trace of amusement on her face anymore. She understands that this is serious. So, I begin.

"I love you," I murmur. "I love you so much... You're the person I've always wanted in my life. You really don’t understand what you mean to me. You make me better... you make me happy. If we ever talk about breaking up, it would never come from me. Because I love you so much. Like I've never loved anyone before. Y-you must be my soulmate. I can’t see it any other way..."

The words are strong, but I had to let them out. I’d been holding it in for too long. My eyes fill with tears. Lucy is in the same state as me. It's the first time I've seen her eyes this watery. She says nothing, though, and panic starts to rise in me. Maybe I went too far, talking about soulmates? But that’s what I feel, and she deserves to know. She, who has waited for me all this time. She, who has accepted me with my character, my flaws, and my mood swings. To be honest, I don't even like myself sometimes.

"Lucy, I-"

"Shhh."

Her fingers brush my lips, encouraging me to stay silent. She replaces them with her lips, starting another kiss. Soft at first, then rougher towards the end. We can't hold back anymore. Our emotions speak for us. We kiss, again and again, barely pausing for breath, closing the gap between us as much as possible. The only regret I have is being in a public place. I have this overwhelming urge to tear off her clothes, to discover this body that belongs to me.

"I-I want you," I whisper against her lips in a moment of euphoria.

My comment breaks the powerful connection between us. We’re both out of breath. She smiles at me before resting her forehead against mine. This moment allows us to come down from our high, eyes closed. I blush, realizing what I just said. When I open my eyes, Lucy is already looking at me. Her eyes are dilated, dark with desire. I’m speechless at the sight. She gently runs her fingers across my face.

"I love you, and I’ll make love to you one day... But definitely not on a whim and certainly not under your mother’s roof."

I burst out laughing despite myself. Tears fall from my eyes at the same time. It's adorable that she can still think of my mom in this situation. She smiles and eventually laughs too when she sees that I can't calm down. This unique moment is so us. It’s reserved, full of love, and sprinkled with joy. My laughter slowly fades. We return to the moment where we're gazing into each other's eyes. I feel silly for being so scared. With Lucy, everything was so simple. She made things feel so easy.

"I love you," I whisper again.

« and I love you," she says with a soft smile.

She knew this was a big step for me. She never even questioned my reasons. That’s admirable of her. I plan to explain it all to her one day.

"I feel like I'm starting a new life with you. It’s like I'm reliving my first times all over again. Maybe not for everything, but for most of it. I know it’s strange, but... I don’t even know how to express it."

"There’s nothing strange about that. You’ve erased your past from your mind, and now you’re starting your life over, so it feels like you’re experiencing everything for the first time again."

I nod. She completely understood what I was trying to say. She takes my hands in hers.

"I would've loved to be your first. I completely understand why you’re anxious, but you don't need to be. You won’t mess up this new chance. I fully intend to be the last person you’ll ever know that intimately."

I throw myself awkwardly into her arms, burying my head in her neck. I’ve never needed to explain much for Lucy to understand me. That’s one of the reasons I love her so much. She kisses the top of my head, holding me as tightly as she can, whispering sweet words to reassure me. Meanwhile, I keep repeating that I love her in what feels like uncontrollable sobs, overwhelmed by all the emotions coursing through me.

[behindthesoul]

Your MK men as parents headcanons are very interesting. Would you write other MK men as parents? Especially I want to read Rain and Havik!

MK Men as Parents pt2

Masterlist || Part One

Characters: Rain, Havik, Quan Chi, Kenshi

Note: Combined a couple of requests into one. Also, sorry this one took forever to come out!

Rain

Probably one of the more normal parents.

He’s a lot more chill compared to himself in other timelines. I can see him being a proud parent to one or two children. Maybe twins?

Teaches his kids to be a better mage than he is. He tries to make his lessons as fun as he possibly can.

Though, he can become frustrated if they aren't taking their teachings seriously. If something were to happen, they need to learn how to defend themselves.

In some MK1 intros you can tell Mileena (understandably) has a lot of distaste for Rain. So much that she wants his mother banished.

I can imagine his children are involved in this banishment which irritates him. His family, especially his innocent children, do not deserve to be punished for his actions.

The main driving force behind Rain’s mission to atone for his actions is his children. He wants to show that if you make a mistake, you should try to make things right. He also wants to be a man his children can be proud of.

Havik

A pretty hands off parent.

I can’t imagine him ever having a complete grasp on this parenting thing.

Just has one kid and refuses to have more.

His kid just kind of does whatever and Havik doesn’t care. Just as long as they don’t make a mess he has to clean up.

Has the “world’s your oyster” mentality.

This behavior is boosted to 100% after his burns. He embraces the chaos, and what’s more chaotic than having a kid?

Havik and his kid are public menaces, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He’s less of a parent and more of a cool older friend.

Don’t come to him for emotional support or other things like that. Having to actually parent his kid makes him feel tied down.

If his kid wants too much from him he’ll somewhat drift away.

You’ll have to hope their other parent is in the picture.

Quan Chi

Totally the parent who somehow knows their kid’s every move.

He knows when their kid has done something they shouldn’t so there’s never any use in lying to him. He just has this look on his face and his kid knows they’re in trouble.

Excuse my only child self for HCing every character as being a single parent but Quan Chi definitely only has enough energy for one kid.

He feels guilty for bringing a child into the world when he can barely take care of himself. Spending hours and hours in the mines, Quan Chi is exhausted by the time he sees his kid.

All his child knows is a dad who always looks tired and dejected.

That is, until he gets an opportunity to live a better life. A place to sleep, clothes that aren’t tattered, and fresh food - all necessities that his child now gets to experience.

Whenever his child asks how he was able to provide their new life, he just smiles and gives a cryptic answer.

Kenshi

His child was kept hidden. Kenshi thought it best to keep his child away from the whole Earthrealm-Outworld war.

None of his allies knew he was a father til the day they were all thrown in jail with Baraka. Thinking it was his last day on earth, he let the secret spill. Kenshi told everyone all about his child.

He mourned the fact he’d probably never see his child again. Of course, he did; after he helped defeat Titan Shang Tsung.

Kenshi was very nervous to meet his child again. What if they don’t react well to his blindness? Johnny pulls him out of his negative thinking. If your kid is as kind as they say you are, then why would they have a bad reaction?

It eases him a bit, but he’s still a little nervous. He feels like a fool for having those thoughts when his child runs to him, screaming his name. The last few weeks of fighting for Earthrealm was all worth it for them.

His child is a bit confused when they see the mask over his eyes.

“You can’t see me!” They say with a frown.

Sento glows, and Kenshi suddenly sees all the details of his child’s face. He smiles, assuring them.

“Yes I can.”

—

@mortal-kombat-shitposts

[pelleas-at-castle-nox]

I'm surprised I haven't really seen anybody talking about the food sourcing theme in dungeon meshi. Like, the very first thing it made me think about when I started reading the manga was like "oh yeah, this really makes you think about food, where it comes from, the work needed to create enough food for one person, let alone a small group, to eat comfortably and nutritiously. Laios even specifically calls out that 'regular' food is also made using shit and dirt, intentionally grounding it in reality and subtly asking the reader to introspect on the food they eat and where it comes from."

Like, it's fair to say kui has the old "world builder's" spirit, it's easy to extrapolate a whole world when you're willing to both ask "how does x mundane task work?" And being willing to give it as fanciful or grounded an answer as you feel is appropriate, food is the central theme, but that sort of thinking extends to every corner of the lore and world building where you can practically begin to trace back a lot of world elements to these basic questions, like "what would happen if there were people who lived for 500 years, what would happen if you fought a creature with two heads" and I think that's really cool-

But like, that core question "where does the food that sustains you come from" is like such a relevant question that we should all be asking ourselves. I suppose it's just that I think about that often, both when I'm world building, and in modern and historical contexts.

In a lot of ways it's alienation of labor, most USAmericans (to keep it at least slightly contained in scope) don't get to know where any of the food they eat actually comes from. At best, you might buy your own groceries and maybe even be able to google some information as to the conditions at the place this food was grown, maybe you're lucky/resourced enough to grow some of your own food in like a garden. At worst you get your food premade and prepackaged and you're even completely divorced from the preparation aspect.

A major symptom of this is clearly shown in dungeon meshi's opening and especially in kabru shuro and even the canaries: when food is taken for granted, it becomes easy to neglect. The party initially wiped simply because they'd not considered how suicidal it was to press onward while exhausted, Kabru is so dissociated and focused that he shuts out most of his own biological signifiers of hunger, Shuro starves himself, equating food with leisure instead of a vital practice to sustain life and energy, and of course there's mister no desires.

It's no mistake that in all of the above cases, it's seemed to be heavily implied that food is either an after thought, or someone else's responsibility, or a simple logistical concern. Senshi's whole rant (in volume 1!!) about "oh the youths of today just buying prepackaged meat wine and bread" is especially tied in to this main theme of "do you know where your food comes from?" By taking it to the next level and asking "do you know why you're eating what you're eating?"

To take a personal side tangent, I was recently diagnosed as diabetic, and it's completely changed my relationship to food on a pretty fundamental level, but I'd say I'd always had a pretty good and healthy relationship with food (after I stopped having an eating disorder but that's a story for another day) so it was an easy enough adjustment to have to start actually thinking about how much of my diet was carbs and things like that, it just became a matter of considering what I was eating and when and why. I'm still not perfect at it and it's still a learning process but I'm working on it.

Anyways, my main theory as to why I've not seen it being pontificated on is just that in general people really hate being asked "do you know what you're eating?" Around these parts in a general fashion, but like, especially with weaponized starvation going on and very real issues of things like food desserts in America, and the fact that we all have to pay for just about every little meal, I think it's important for leftists to contemplate the political implications of meals.

An army runs on its stomach after all. Rant over

[lunarriviera]

the huo daofu round-up post i have been threatening for a really long time now

Thinking about this man, I was just admitting to chat "honestly cannot believe how much life energy i have invested in such a minor character" but the truth of the matter is, I was mildly obsessed with Huo Daofu from Reboot alone; his odd unresolved backstory in Sha Hai just cemented my mental formation. Because let's be real, in a world of overly earnest tomb raiders, this man is a goddamn catty delight. The dainty bitterness! The barely concealed eye-rolling! So many impeccable That Bitch vibes. And his unimpressed snark is honestly such a refreshing antidote to Wu Xie's whole everyone-loves-him Marty Sue thing that even when you discover Huo Daofu secretly ALSO loves him, you don't mind, because by that point Dr. Youtiao is a savage queen who can do no wrong.

And He Longlong clearly made this guy up. In the novels he's just sort of a vaguely beardy guy who drives a truck, that's literally all I remember him ever doing. But someone cast this man, and they gave him some rubber bands and pizza coupons and chewed gum of a script to work with, and he promptly decided: I will make him extremely gay. And staggeringly bitchy. AND IT WORKS. He devours every frame he's in, he steals every scene. It's a performance worthy of Alan Rickman and yes I will die upon this hill.

We all know the bitchy-ex-boyfriend scenes in Reboot—"oh my god I literally can't wait for you to perish from lungs" and then Huo Daofu spends like every moment trying to keep Wu Xie alive, sheltering him uselessly from the rain with his hand, rubbing his back when he coughs, looking (when no one's watching but the camera) like he's maybe going to stop breathing himself, when Wu Xie does.

Apparently Huo Daofu's name sounds very silly in Chinese which I think is appropriate for someone who apparently (?) grew up in Germany (?) and went to the University of Heidelberg (?) (honestly don't waste time trying to figure out DMBJ canon, NPSS has thoughtfully ensured that will only be exhausting and futile). Spurious medical qualifications aside, he's super handy in fanfic, too, when you need a sketchy doctor, as all tomb-raiding mob families invariably do.

[someone once pointed out to me that this combination of degree topics basically translates into "how to dispose of bodies"]

I could also hold forth on him and Yang Hao���like, Su Wan alone makes it REAL clear that Huo Daofu's interest in the kid isn't just avuncular or entrepreneurial:

"Are you working for him, or are you working for him?" And Su Wan should be protective, because Yang Hao is honestly kind of an idiot, and probably doesn't realize he's being assiduously groomed not just as a mob boss but as a potential boy toy. (NB by the way that there are 44 fics in the Huo Daofu/Yang Hao tag, and disappointingly, not a single one of them is in English. Western fandom needs Jesus.)

But the thing is, Huo Daofu SAVES his ass in Gutongjing. Everyone forgets that. There's easily half a dozen times where he grabs Yang Hao's shoulder and hauls him back from danger. And Huo Daofu is the one Jiumen member smart enough to get out ahead of disaster, and to take Yang Hao with him. Here he is looking fabulous in a completely unnecessary but dramatic scarf.

And, at the end, he lets Yang Hao go. Because he's secretly decent.

Sure, he has some vaguely sketchy take-over-the-Huos plans, plans that clearly go awry at some point no matter how dramatically and villainously he makes tea. Sure, he exudes a scurrilous sort of evil. But he's COMPELLING and that's all I care about. Look at his pretty little face here, sourly plotting things, in a windowpane-checked suit which should be ridiculous but just winds up looking snazzy as fuck compared to the rest of the Jiumen. This is a man who understands the value of a pocket square. Thank you so much, He Longlong, we didn't deserve you putting your entire snatch into this very minor performance but some of us are extremely grateful.

So here are seven ficrecs, with a podfic and a meta from AO3. Please let me know if I should add anything (Tumblr meta?)—this post WILL be updated, because I have too much time on my hands and care unreasonably about the mean-spirited little bastard.

‡

Remember how this used to be (3569 words) by achray Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 盗墓笔记重启 | The Lost Tomb Reboot (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Huo Daofu/Wu Xie (DMBJ Series) Characters: Huo Daofu (DMBJ Series), Wu Xie (DMBJ Series), Wang Pangzi Additional Tags: Missing Scene, Angst, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Background Wu Xie/Zhang Qiling, Wu Xie being a gremlin, Canon-typical references to illness Summary:

“That wasn’t a no,” Wu Xie said, his smile widening. “I thought you still wanted me.”

Notes: How is this both hot and sad? I don't know, that's the magic of fanfiction. This was the first Wu Xie/Huo Daofu fic I ever read and frankly the genre needs more entries, but this is a good one.

‡

the rime dictionary of Wu Xie (7433 words) by scherzanda Chapters: 6/6 Fandom: 盗墓笔记重启 | The Lost Tomb Reboot (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Wu Xie/Zhang Qiling, Wang Pangzi/Ye Piaopiao, Wang Pangzi & Wu Xie & Zhang Qiling Characters: Wu Xie (DMBJ Series), Wang Pangzi, Zhang Qiling, Ye Piaopiao, Huo Daofu (DMBJ Series), Xiao Mei, Wu Erbai, Li Jiale (DMBJ Series) Additional Tags: Piaopiao lives, Post-Canon, Canon Flashbacks, canonical illness, fun with the common cold, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Handwaved SI Recovery, Canon-typical Ershu Infodump, Quasi-History-Compliant, Yuletide Treat Summary:

This is why (even now) Wu Xie shouldn’t be let out alone—one trip out to the provinces, and he comes home with a bad cold and an unsolved mystery.

Notes: this is one of my very favorite Huo Daofu writers and here's why—read this little excerpt. The angst. The PAIN. Wu Xie absolutely broke this man's heart at some point and honestly Huo Daofu is really only himself if he's suffering, love that for him:

“Easy,” he said, when Wu Xie couldn’t seem to stop coughing. “Here—” and reached for the rest of the tea, except that it wasn’t on the table any longer.

Zhang Qiling was holding the mug; he had somehow gone around to the other side of the bed, moving in that flowing now-you-see-it-now-you-don’t way that never seemed quite human, to sit down cross-legged on the bed by Wu Xie so that their shoulders touched. Huo Daofu snatched his hand away from Wu Xie’s back as if an electrical current might flow through the double contact.

“Wu Xie,” Zhang Qiling said, and then something else so quiet it was inaudible, holding the tea so Wu Xie could drink.

Looking at the open tenderness on that remote, beautiful face, utterly focused on Wu Xie, made Huo Daofu feel as if his flesh was trying to part ways with his bones. It was a pain his medical texts didn’t have a word for, deeper and more primitive than jealousy or resentment.

Wu Xie, getting his breath back, looked sideways at him with one of those sudden grins. “Sorry, Xiao Huo. You’re still out of luck when it comes to watching me die. Maybe next time.”

Huo Daofu’s voice would not quite leave his throat. Instead, Xiao Mei said crossly “Tianzhen-shu, that’s dumb.” Most of her attention was still on her phone screen. “Why would Dr. Huo want to watch you die.”

Wu Xie looked at him, still smiling.

“It’s a long story,” said Huo Daofu, “and it doesn’t matter now.”

‡

even through hesitation (10407 words) by naiwong_bao Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 盗墓笔记重启 | The Lost Tomb Reboot (TV), 沙海 | Tomb of the Sea (TV), 盗墓笔记 - 南派三叔 | The Grave Robbers' Chronicles - Xu Lei Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Huo Daofu & Huo Xiuxiu, Hei Xia Zi/Huo Xiuxiu/Xie Yuchen Characters: Huo Daofu (DMBJ Series), Huo Xiuxiu, Yang Hao (DMBJ Series), Hei Xia Zi (DMBJ Series), Xie Yuchen, Wu Xie (DMBJ Series), Wang Pangzi Additional Tags: Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Character Study, Alternate Universe - Fantasy Series: Part 3 of this is where we live Summary:

He’s a boy so Huo Daofu knows from the beginning that there are no expectations for him, he can do as he likes. So he plays, he cries, he does what children do.

Then his parents die.

No one wants him, no one has time for him, so his family sends him to Germany for school. It’ll be a good opportunity, his family says. He can do whatever he wants, be free of the family business, they’ll take care of him over there. He doesn’t want to go, he doesn't know who they are, but he doesn’t get a say.

So he goes to Germany where the language is strange, the food is strange, the people are strange, and he wants to go home so badly that his teeth ache.

Huo Daofu builds a life for himself, but at the first sign of trouble, years and years and years later, he rents out his apartment to an acquaintance, and flies home.

But.

The language is strange, he doesn’t know the slang, the food is strange, the people are strange.

His family is cold and he still doesn’t get a say. --- Huo Daofu between the end of Tomb of the Sea and when he reappears in Reboot. AKA Huo Daofu learns to care a little.

‡

The Mark of a Man (2279 words) by JhanaMay Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 沙海 | Tomb of the Sea (TV), 盗墓笔记 - 南派三叔 | The Grave Robbers' Chronicles - Xu Lei Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Huo Daofu & Yang Hao (DMBJ Series) Characters: Huo Daofu (DMBJ Series), Yang Hao (DMBJ Series) Additional Tags: Loneliness, Found Family even when it makes you want to scream, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Huo Daofu is a mediocre role model Series: Part 8 of The Art of Conversation, Part 7 of The Art of Conversation Side Stories Summary:

When Huo Daofu inducted Yang Hao into the Huo family business, he wasn't expecting to become the boy's de facto babysitter.

Notes: a poignant little vignette in which Huo Daofu has a heart.

‡

[META] Huo Daofu's Youtiao Stand (739 words) by Thimblerig Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 盗墓笔记 - 南派三叔 | The Grave Robbers' Chronicles - Xu Lei, 沙海 | Tomb of the Sea (TV), 盗墓笔记重启 | The Lost Tomb Reboot (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Huo Daofu & Huo Xiuxiu, Huo Daofu & Wu Xie (DMBJ Series) Characters: Huo Daofu (DMBJ Series) Additional Tags: Meta, Worldbuilding, Huo Daofu's Delicious Fried Snacks Series: Part 2 of DMBJ Meta Summary:

Huo Daofu is a supporting character in Sand Sea. Ambitious, wily, hungry, he’s far from one of the main villains of the story but he’s not nice, either. By the end of Sand Sea Huo Daofu has exploited the chaos caused by the ill-founded expedition to Gutongjing to take over various of the Huo Family operations.

When he appears in Reboot: Sound of Providence, he is a purveyor of delicious fried bread snacks. He’s clearly not hurting for money, so why…?

Notes: this is one of my favorite little HDF explorations, theorizing that Huo Xiuxiu busted him down a rank, and I think that's beautiful.

‡

starting in darkness, like a pure line of light (10167 words) by scherzanda Chapters: 5/5 Fandom: 盗墓笔记重启 | The Lost Tomb Reboot (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Huo Daofu/Bai Haotian, Bai Haotian & Wu Xie, Liu Sang & Wu Xie (DMBJ Series), Bai Haotian & Liu Sang Characters: Wu Xie (DMBJ Series), Huo Daofu (DMBJ Series), Bai Haotian, Liu Sang (DMBJ Series), Wang Pangzi, Zhang Qiling Additional Tags: background pingxie, background Iron Triangle, past Wu Xie/Huo Daofu, Post-Canon, hurt/sarcasm, Fade to Black, Dialogue Heavy, meta-adjacent, Self-Indulgent Use of Chinese, Emotional Hurt/Comfort Summary:

Some emotional loose ends are never going to be tied up, but at least they can be recognized and shared. Or, a selection of the worst best only ways to comfort one another in the aftermath.

Notes: absolutely nothing makes me, a Huo Daofu stan, happier than scherzanda's fics featuring him. You would think this is an odd pairing, but it's really not—the two people who love Wu Xie most and are left behind by him? They have so much in common. Also, this fic has a podfic!

[PODFIC] starting in darkness, like a pure line of light, by scherzanda (701 words) by Thimblerig Chapters: 3/3 Fandom: 盗墓笔记重启 | The Lost Tomb Reboot (TV), 盗墓笔记 - 南派三叔 | The Grave Robbers' Chronicles - Xu Lei Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Huo Daofu/Bai Haotian, Bai Haotian & Wu Xie, Liu Sang & Wu Xie (DMBJ Series), Bai Haotian & Liu Sang Characters: Wu Xie (DMBJ Series), Huò Dàofū, Bai Haotian, Liu Sang (DMBJ Series), Wang Pangzi, Zhang Qiling Additional Tags: background pingxie, background Iron Triangle, past Wu Xie/Huo Daofu, Post-Canon, hurt/sarcasm, Fade to Black, Dialogue Heavy, Meta Adjacent, Self-Indulgent Use of Chinese, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Podfic, podficcer not a native chinese-speaker but is doing her best, Podfic Length: 1-1.5 Hours

‡

do the work, love the work (1616 words) by scherzanda Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 盗墓笔记重启 | The Lost Tomb Reboot (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Huo Daofu (DMBJ Series), Wu Xie (DMBJ Series), Wang Pangzi, Zhang Qiling, Liu Sang (DMBJ Series), Bai Haotian, Wu Erbai Additional Tags: Mid-Canon, Missing Scene, Character Study, Post-Canon, Yuletide Treat Summary:

It doesn't always look that way, but Huo Daofu is doing his best.

Notes: once again I just have to excerpt, so you'll GET IT:

The train had nearly reached Hangzhou by the time Wu Xie spoke to him beyond the commonplace. He was still sitting in the corridor, staring dreamily at the growing suburbs, while Zhang Qiling gave Wang Pangzi a hand in the cabin. He looked up as Huo Daofu came back from the hot water dispenser. “Xiao Huo, xinkule. Sorry you never got that chance to watch me die, eh?”

Huo Daofu closed his eyes and looked away from Wu Xie’s smile, unshadowed now with death, brilliant and painful. “I’m sorry too,” he said, eyes still closed, and did not say any of the things he was sorry for.

‡

not only the sugar, but the days (3000 words) by A Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 盗墓笔记重启 | The Lost Tomb Reboot (TV), 盗墓笔记 - 南派三叔 | The Grave Robbers' Chronicles - Xu Lei Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Bai Haotian/Huo Daofu Characters: Huo Daofu (DMBJ Series), Bai Haotian Additional Tags: Mentions of Death, Healing, Getting Together, Youtiao as a Metaphor, Also Actual Youtiao Summary:

His gaze meets Bai Haotian's, who's trying so hard to keep it together, and he knows that Wu Xie will break her heart when he dies, and it won't even be his fault. He never fucking means to.

Notes: another recent entry in the HDF/Bai Haotian post-canon and I love it unreasonably. They both love Wu Xie SO MUCH and it's just taking them OUT. Their subsequent connection is natural and it's funny as hell, the author loves them both and it shows:

"Are you really sure?" Bai Haotian says softly, and Huo Daofu looks up.

"What?"

"About the week."

"At best," he says, then winces. Fuck it. "It'll be three days," he says, loud enough to carry through the bedroom door, "if he keeps pulling these stunts!" There's a muffled noise and some very clear profanity from Pangzi, which Huo Daofu ignores. "See if I care!" he adds, but it's just not the same without Wu Xie there to grin at him, unrepentant.

He can feel Bai Haotian's hand covering his own, just loosely, where it's half curled into a fist against his thigh. He turns his head. The look she gives him is so full of unquestioning kindness, of understanding, he almost has to close his eyes against it.

"I'm sure," he says quietly, not really looking at her. "But he's proven me wrong before."

He can see her nod as she takes that in, and then they just sit there in silence, her hand over his, not moving.

‡

In conclusion, just because I can, from some of my favorite posts:

[ohyka]

[jeong-guwon]

[januaryisnotanartist]

Please also do not fail to check out the magnificent Dr Mal Practice post, as well as "it's not his fucking birthday" and "I'll fucking do it but christ alive." These users truly understand the essence of Huo Daofu.

PS also don't sleep on Huo Daofu and Liu Sang having a fabulous bitch-off in Hua Mei, a Sha Hai side story ft. haunted Wushanju. Another side story, Ran Gu, also has a swooning Kan Jian. Quality entertainment!

[pure-garbage]

It Helps Him Focus? Total Satisfaction!

Chapter Warnings: Smut! Oral, overstimulation, penetration, light choking. Minors DNI

Lana collapsed, completely unable to move, a long time ago. The relief she felt when Zoro finally gave out and fell alongside her couldn't be captured with words. She gave a loud groan, summoning every lingering ounce of energy at her disposal to lift her hand high enough to rip the bandana off his head. Unsurprisingly, it was soaked with his sweat.

"So, have you ever been so satisfied in your life?" he managed.

Lana tried to slap him with the bandana, but couldn't muster enough force to make the blow so much as smart. The wet smack of the fabric against his skin was weak at best.

"Idiot," she all but drooled, bordering on catatonic with exhaustion.

"I mean, I can go again if you're still not totally satisfied," Zoro threatened.

Lana giggled a little at his stubbornness. Tired as she was, it would have been a lie to claim she hadn't had a hell of a good time.

'It's such a stupid thing to even want... but I guess he's earned it,' she thought.

"No, Zoro," she sighed. "I have never, ever, in my entire life been so satisfied."

8 Hours Earlier

The straw hats all knew Sanji was working on something special for Luffy's birthday, but the extravagant meal he put together to mark the occasion surpassed all their highest expectations.

"Keep it coming, Sanji!" Luffy called jubilantly past a full mouth.

"It's all so amazing, I can't stop eating!" Chopper agreed.

"I've never tasted anything this good before! Not even from you, Sanji!" Usopp agreed.

Even Zoro was all smiles amidst of the ruckus at the table, chaotic revelry which Sanji both curated and basked in.

"So good!" Lana declared, joining the rest of the crew in praising their cook. "I don't think I've ever been so satisfied in my life!"

Sanji was delighted beyond compare at the high praise, but not everyone was as happy. Lana's choice of words stuck in Zoro's craw and left a sour taste in his mouth that he found himself unable to completely wash away with sake. His displeasure went unnoticed as the celebration wore on.

It wasn't long before the whole crew was laid out in an overstuffed stupor, scattered through the lounge that echoed with heavy snores and sleepy mumbles. The soft clinks and splashes of Sanji's cleanup effort drifted from the kitchen, beckoning Lana. She stirred with a sigh, leaning up from her lazy sprawl between Zoro's legs on the couch.

"I'm going to help him out. You coming?" she asked.

"He's fine."

Lana giggled as Zoro wrapped his legs around her, pulling her back down onto him.

"We made such a mess," she tsked.

"Curly brows knew what he was signing up for."

"But- mm..."

He caught her with a kiss to silence her, caught her off guard with his intensity. Lana didn't mind surrendering, shivering with delight as his hands swept greedily down her figure. She lost herself, letting the world fall away as her tongue tangled with his and she pressed her body enthusiastically into his eager touch. Passion was characteristic of the man she called hers, fully expected. Still, there was something especially assertive in the way he clutched her now, bringing her breath to a pant and her heartbeat to a pounding race.

Possessiveness overwhelmed Zoro, still seething secretly at the remark he knew Lana hadn't put any thought into. She hadn't meant anything by it, but it still bothered him.

'She's mine to satisfy,' he thought vehemently. He drank her soft, pleased moans as if they were the only antidote to the envious poison he couldn't help but fall prey to. 'Mine... NOT that damned cook's!'

Lana broke away gasping when his fingers started to creep under her clothes.

"Hey! Everyone's here!" she reminded him.

"They are," he growled, mouth wet and burning on the skin of her neck, undeterred by the interrupted kiss.

"Let's go to bed," she sighed, tugging his wrists to keep herself decent as he pushed and pulled at her hems.

Zoro only hummed his agreement, seeking her lips again as he sat up and urged her legs around his waist. Lana went pliantly, submitting to his strength as he carried her effortlessly through the ship to the tiny cabin they now shared. The room was pitch black, but that suited them both just fine.

Zoro deposited her on the bed, his body weighing hers down briefly before he left her. Eyes adjusting, Lana could just barely make out his silhouette as he shed clothes and she hurried to follow his example. He was done before she was, but waited patiently for her to finish, resisting his urge to interfere. When she did, he surged over her, pressing as much of their bare skin together as possible. She expected another kiss, but he refused her advance, teeth grazing her ear teasingly while she huffed lightly.

"I hope you're ready for this," he breathed, his tone matching the playfulness of his wandering caresses.

"Hm?"

Lana returned his touch in kind and waited for him to go on.

"By the time I'm through with you..."

His voice was low, brimming with lust that struck her through with burning, dizzying desire. She bit her lip, anticipation building deep in her gut as his hands sank to her thighs.

"... you'll be more satisfied than you've ever been in your life."

Devious fingers and the crush of his weight left her gasping, grasping at him as the heat of his breath brushed smolderingly over her ear.

"Even more satisfied than earlier.'

The ire that crept into his tone puzzled Lana, left shaking as Zoro's fingers probed deeper and his tongue busied itself against her quivering skin.

'Earlier?'

She wanted to ask what he was talking about, but lost the words somewhere between her tongue and his lips. She let him steal her breath gratefully, abandoning confusion and rolling her hips wantonly to meet the firm thrust of his long fingers.

"Mm! Mmm!"

She moaned and her legs fell open wide in desperate invitation, yearning for more than his fingers even as he settled into a steady pace. He chuckled happily at her ear, taking in her delirious expression as she arched and quaked under his attentions.

"That's it," he purred, wrist flexing as he all but fucked her. Her nails dug into his shoulders, soft and cruel at once while his free hand cradled the back of her neck. "Good girl... so hungry for it... such a good little slut for me!"

His words brought heat rushing up to her cheeks, brought a cascade of breathless, keening whimpers bubbling up from her gut. Shy, flattered butterflies chased the sounds away with fluttering wings, excited by his praise and riled up by his filth. He lapped the noises up like some rare delicacy, a treat only she could offer him. A balm for the bruises her careless words left on his ego.

He crooked his fingers inside her, inviting, urging her to call his name. She never failed to oblige and now was no exception. Zoro's breath caught deep in his throat as his gaze swept over her and he was left stricken by her sensual beauty. Trembling, hair wild, eyes lidded, lips parted and legs spread for him while she clenched and pulsed around his buried fingers...

'Delicious,' he thought, licking the smirk off his own lips at the sight.

He devoured a path from her throat to her thighs, leaving behind a trail of dark spots and wet marks as her fingers sank into his hair encouragingly. His tongue replaced his fingers while his hands locked her thighs apart.

Lana's ecstatic cries surrounded them, hands fisting in the sheets and his hair as he consumed her with abandon. Neither were keeping track of the time, but they lost an hour while Zoro let himself get drunk on Lana's pleasure.

By the time he decided he'd had his fill, she'd lost count of her orgasms. Overstimulation was starting to blur the line between build and climax, leaving her drifting through a hedonic haze, moored to reality only by her lover's touch. When he finally released her, she slumped bonelessly into tangled sheets, breath ragged and legs weak. Every muscle shook from the exertion of tensing and releasing at Zoro's command. Light-headedness settled over her now that her body had the chance to recover from the world-rending marathon of pleasures he'd just subjected it to.

Once her panting subsided, she whined his name.

"I didn't even get to touch you once," she complained.

"Oh, don't worry."

Zoro loomed between her legs in the darkness, arms high as he bore down over her. Lana raised an eyebrow at him, watching as he secured his trademark bandana onto his head.

"I haven't even started yet," he assured her.

"Started what?!" she demanded, mildly alarmed by the appearance of the item she associated solely with Zoro's most bloodthirsty rampages. "WHY are you putting that on?!"

"To help me focus," he said, tone implying this should have been obvious.

"Focus on what, exactly?"

Lana struggled up onto her elbows, only for Zoro to press her back down again.

"Not finishing too soon," he grinned, swiftly pushing her knees up to her shoulders. The position was familiar, but the suddenness left Lana reeling a little, moans gasped against Zoro's fervent lips as he bent over her for a sloppy kiss. She cupped his cheeks in her palms, heartbeat pounding as she tried to figure out why he would be worried about coming too fast.

'That's... never really been a problem for us before,' she thought, baffled.

Zoro sensed her confusion, felt it feeding hesitance and unease. Her discomfort was completely unacceptable to him.

"Relax," he urged, soothing. He coupled the word with a few tender strokes of his palms over her thighs. They trembled with fatigue while her wide eyes swam with questions. "Don't forget, I'll always stop if you tell me to."

"You can keep going, I just don't get... how long do you plan to keep this up tonight anyway?" she managed.

His smirk was full of mischief and confidence. It made her already uneven breath hike and raised bumps of excitement along her arms.

"As long as it takes."

Lana loosed a low, helpless moan as he slipped inside her with no further warning, surging forward to fill her completely.

"I told you already, didn't I?" he went on. He set a languid, easy tempo, leaning down again to fill her ear with gravelly, lusty words while his hips rocked into her. "I'm going to make sure you're satisfied tonight. More satisfied than you've ever been in your life."

This time, the phrase clicked with the memory of her compliment to the chef and Lana suddenly realized why Zoro was so worked up.

'This is about his stupid little rivalry with Sanji?!'

"Zoro!"

He chose that moment to lock their lips again, groaning his pleasure into her mouth as the slow drag of her arousal on his threatened to shatter his resolve. The insistent urges of carnality begged and demanded, tempting the swordsman to abandon discipline and chase the highest point of his own bliss. His lover was as generous as ever in voicing her satisfaction with his efforts, her moans and cries enticing, the heat of her body all-consuming.

Lana was utterly intoxicated, floating on a cloud condensed from the heavenly sensations of their lazy dance. She managed to wind her arms around his waist, dragging him even deeper as his low moans vibrated against her own. The taste of him was overwhelming, masked only slightly by the lingering taste of sake and her own essence.

Zoro didn't leave her with enough time or presence of mind to consider whether she should have chosen her words more carefully at dinner. She was too far lost in their lovemaking, too busy reveling in the slow, wild escalation of her ecstasy as Zoro gradually coaxed her back up to climax.

The rush when it came was blinding, devastating. Lana threw her head back, fighting for breath as Zoro relented momentarily, stilling within her to let her recover.

"There you go, that's my girl," he murmured, lips comforting over her racing pulse as she gasped and writhed beneath him. "Fuck, so good for me... squeezing me so tight... shit! Fuck, Lana, don't stop... keep doing that, stay just like that!"

His hands slid up to her ankles, forcing her legs even higher.

"Z-Zoro! Zoro!"

She screamed his name when he started moving again, adopting a harder pace this time. The steep fold of her body pulled him even deeper inside her as he poured curses and praise over the altar of her frantic, tensing form.

For two straight hours, Zoro fucked Lana, switching positions between orgasms. Sweat coated them, Zoro supporting Lana when her muscles went limp again and again, leaving her reliant on his arms to keep her from unravelling. The sex was mind-numbing, back-breaking, soul-crushing and too damn good for Lana to even entertain the idea of stopping.

Zoro didn't want to stop either, but Lana was driving him insane. The sensation of her gripping his length, her hips pushing mindlessly to meet his strokes while she moaned his name, begged him for more, directed his pace...

"Damn it! Lana, I have to... I can't... Nnng!"

She whined in protest when he pulled out of her.

"Gonna cum if I don't take a break," he panted. In his mind, Zoro was already planning ways to pass the time between his lover's legs until he could calm down enough to take her again.

"Oh, good!" Lana sighed, pushing him onto his back with a relieved smile. She didn't wait for his approval, taking him into her mouth eagerly.

"Ugh! Wait, La- Ah! Mmn!"

Lana took him deeply, greedily, savoring the trembling of his taut thighs and the guttural, strained moans he loosed for her. His tip bumped her throat, but she swallowed to keep herself from gagging and pressed on. Zoro pushed onto his elbows to watch, parted his legs and gave a little thrust, biting back a groan when she broke to breathe.

"Mm, I've never felt you this hard before," Lana gasped slyly, pumping his length in her fist while she held his rapt, lust-struck gaze. "So big for me... No wonder you felt so amazing, filling me up, fucking me so good..."

"Nng! Lana, I'm not done yet!" he growled. "Just... uhhh, just lemme take a break, I'll keep- oh fuck!"

Her tongue lathed over his leaking slit while she stroked him, steady and rhythmic. Sultry eyes burned into his, overflowing with desire and naughtiness that nudged experimentally at the fragile wall of his resolve.

"You already did so good though," she smirked, determined to push him through the barrier that she could tell was only paper-thin. "Mm, I must have cum on your cock a dozen times tonight... Ooh, and you feel like you're ready to burst... Come on, Zoro."

She squeezed him tighter, lowering her voice to a rasp as she held his dark, frenzied gaze.

"I wanna taste you," she went on, tongue darting out tantalizingly between sentences as she drew him closer to the place where she knew his impressive restraint always failed him. "Please? Just let go for me... you earned it..."

Zoro's resolve snapped under the pressure of her persistent, crafty encouragement.

"Fuck! Mm, Lana! Fuck, here... here it comes!" he groaned, giving in to what they both wanted.

His cursing intensified as his fingers wound through her hair, locking her in place while he spilled his seed down her throat. The eagerness with which she swallowed, wide, sparkling eyes holding his with voracious focus... her unmistakable enjoyment was almost enough to make him hard again. Enthralled, he held her down a little too long, earning a slap to the thigh as she demanded release. He complied, collapsing onto the mattress with a little bounce as Lana caught her breath and climbed up his body.

"Mm, you had a lot to give tonight," she teased, drawing a shuddering moan from him. He reached up to caress her throat, mesmerized by the sweat rolling down her chest. She reached for his bandana, but he caught her wrist before she could remove it.

"Told you, I'm not done yet," he grumbled.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Unless you can't handle any more?"

"You know, I thought I'd be tired by now, but..."

She dragged his hand down, pulling it between his stomach and her dripping, sensitive core.

"... I guess all that endurance training is good for more than just fighting," she chuckled.

Zoro grinned gleefully and locked his wrist in place so she could take her pleasure on his fingers. He still gripped her throat, feeling the harsh drag of her panted breaths punctuated with blissful moans as she arched and rocked over him. The sheen of sweat coating her skin left him entranced as he watched her move. His lips parted when her mouth fell open, teeth bared as she closed her fingers around his wrists. He went along as she pulled his right hand down to her breasts, guiding his touch, demanding his attention as she ground into his palms.

Her hands slid up his arms, indulging in a ravenous journey that filled her with joy and fed her desire as she felt every tense inch of flexing muscle on her way up. His grip tightened on her body in response, breath quickening despite the fact that, for the first time all night, Lana was the one doing all the work. The pair bathed in greed, basking hedonically in each other's beauty under the silky soft cover of darkness. Hungry hands look their fill, ever unsated as every indulgent caress only fed the lust consuming them.

Zoro grunted as Lana's movements became more urgent, her frustration growing as she pressed against him desperately. He was shocked to feel himself stiffening a little so soon after such an incredible climax.

'Guess I didn't need to focus so hard on lasting after all,' he thought with some amusement.

Lana didn't notice his slowly recovering erection, too busy chasing another gratuitous climb. The steps evaded her this time, leaving her all but growling with irritation at the paradise eluding her. Zoro's fingers felt good, standing perfectly at attention for her while she rode them, but after the indulgence she'd been steeped in all night, it wasn't enough. Not by a long shot.

"Zoro! Fuck!"

Lana fell onto his chest, heaving and squirming while his fingers chased her, rocking her body with the force of their squelching thrusts.

'So slippery... I don't think I've ever felt her this wet before!'

Zoro moaned while her fevered lips grazed over his chest, gasped when her teeth found a nipple.

"I need more!" she groaned, nails drawing dark trails over his ribs as she writhed against his body. "Need... need to feel you filling me again... need..."

Her words devolved into gasped, strained cries of protest as his fingers left her so he could take hold of her hips.

"Keep talking!" he urged. "Almost... I'm almost there!"

He pulled her down so she could feel his meaning, gradually rising against her thigh. She hummed delightedly, sliding his length through her slick folds and enjoying the moans he gave to reward her generosity.

"Already?" she grinned, dipping to scrape his neck with her teeth, devouring the deep vibrations as his grip tightened on her waist. "So much energy... I guess you're not one to stay down long, huh?"

She took him in half-hard, sighing at the strange sensation of his lax member resting inside her.

"Now touch me," she requested. 'I'll have him up the rest of the way in no time...'

Zoro's hands roamed reverently, obediently, while she licked her lips and ground onto his pelvis. She felt him harden further and clenched around him on purpose, bent on coaxing him back to full strength.

"Fuck, almost," she panted, biting back her desperation. She forced patience on herself as Zoro's hips jerked up to meet hers and his moans deepened. "Just. a little more... c'mon, Zoro... I wanna feel you stretching me again!"

The shark intake of his breath, the crush of his fingers on her skin, the blossoming heat at the site of their connection spurred Lana on. She leaned down to purr quietly in his ear, nails seeking his scalp while she riled him up again mercilessly.

"Mm, I can't wait to have you deep, can't wait to take that perfect cock... I'll be even better for you this time, I promise."

She lifted experimentally, bit her lip as he slid in and out slowly, growing with every careful stroke.

"This time, you're going to bend me over," she informed him, playing on what she knew he liked best to excite him faster.

"Yeah?" he replied. His eyes were sharp, shaded heavily by the bandana. He looked like a beast lying in wait beneath her, anticipating the right moment to strike. Lana shivered with anticipation and excitement of her own.

"Mm-hm," she went on. "I'll be such a good girl for you... I'll do anything you want as long as you fuck me just like I want..."

"Tell me how you want it!" he demanded, the words a growl as his hips slammed up into her. The rough thrust tore a cry from her at the impact. He didn't give even an inch inside her, forcing her tender cunt open again to show her he was ready.

"Hard!" she managed to gasp, bracing on his shoulders as he continued relentlessly. "Faster, Zoro, want... I want you to fuck me 'til I can't even move anymore!"

"Careful what you wish for!" he smirked, sharp teeth gleaming savagely. He gripped her bruisingly, rutting into her with brutal, breathtaking force that left her seeing stars as she moaned her approval.

Lana submitted to him completely, falling onto his chest while his arms caged her and his pelvis pounded into hers from below. She could only shake and cry out, locked tight in Zoro's embrace while he gave her everything she wanted, soothing her desperation with his own fervor. The bed creaked and rocked, protesting under the vigor of their impassioned activities as the night waxed long.

Time turned a blind eye to the lovers, hours rendered meaningless as they measured it's passing instead in heartbeats and kisses. Lana took everything Zoro had to give like the boldest thief, the most brazen bandit. He gave it to her like a hostage, enslaved to the challenge he'd created for himself. He'd never backed down from a challenge in his life and he didn't intend to let even this petty, self-inflicted hurdle defeat him.

Gratitude overwhelmed Zoro when Lana broke before he did. He met her request dutifully, fucked her until she couldn't even scream anymore, until her limbs gave out competely and she collapsed to the mattress in a quivering, breathless heap. He followed her down, hips still stuttering wearily into hers as her soft sighs filled the air around them.

"Done?" he asked for what felt like the tenth time. At last, she nodded, eyes closed while she caught her breath.

"You?" she managed.

"Almost."

Zoro had been holding out against his impending orgasm for uncounted hours. Now, he let go with immense relief, burying himself in Lana's body as he shook and spasmed over her. She mustered the last of her strength, clutching him as he groaned between her breasts and pulsed between her legs.

They crashed together, but Zoro was still only interested in knowing one thing. After Lana assured him of her satisfaction, she had one final demand.

"What about you?" she asked, tossing his bandana blindly through the dark cabin. "Have you ever been so satisfied in your life?"

"Oh yeah," he replied lazily.

"What? You jerk, when?" she scowled.

"Mm..."

Zoro rose just enough to throw his body over hers, pinning her securely against the bed. His leg draped over her hip and his hand captured hers, clasping their fingers tight.

"I feel this satisfied every time you touch me," he purred, nipping her ear playfully as she adjusted to bear his weight.

"Hmph... alright, fine. That was a really good answer," she admitted.

They passed out together and lost a day napping to recover from their antics.

__________________________________________________

<== Previous Chapter

Next Chapter ==>

== First Chapter ==

[gabessquishytum]

Dream attempting to punish World Pussy-Eating Champion Hob with oral sex is so funny to me. Hob intends to tell Dream eventually. Just, not yet. He's still having more fun with this than guilt over the deception.

Except, he doesn't get the chance to come clean.

Dream is with his (friend? sibling? someone he likes well enough to tolerate this sort of thing), and they start to tell the story of this guy they hooked up with a few times who ate them out better than anyone else before or since. And this guy LOVED doing it. So much, in fact, that they couldn't keep up with him. They felt a little bad about it, honestly, especially when he confessed that he'd NEVER had a lover who wanted as much as he wanted to give.

Dream is only half paying attention, until they drop this former hookup's name. And then? Dream has to leave. Immediately. There's somewhere he needs to be.

He shows up unannounced at Hob's flat and explains that he knows what Hob has been keeping from him, and Hob absolutely WILL be punished for this transgression (Dream isn't mad--he expects nothing less than this sort of behavior from his beloved brat--but he's not going to let something like this slide, either), but first? First, Hob is going to eat him out until HOB has had enough. It is a tragedy and a crime that no one has ever made PROPER use of that mouth.

Hob is hesitant at first. He's had lovers ask for this before, and none of them really understood what they were asking for. They'd all tapped out, and a few of them just ghosted him after. But he also wants to give Dream everything he asks for, and he can't deny he WANTS to eat Dream out until they're both sobbing. So he sets about eating Dream's pussy with all the enthusiasm and skill he's been holding back.

And that's how Dream discovers his hitherto unknown overstimulation kink. Which opens up a whole world of possibilities for Hob's punishment. Just as soon as Dream remembers how to speak in coherent sentences.

(Hob has to cancel his lectures the next day because there's no way he can give them with his tongue this sore from overuse, but he's honestly never been happier)

I'm so <33333 about this whole concept. And low-key emotional about Dream postponing Hob’s punishment so he can finally, finally sate his appetite for Dream’s pussy. That's love right there, baby. Make Hob feel proud of his incredible greed and skill for eating cunt. He should never ever have to hide his desire ever again.

I can fully imagine them going at it for hours. Dream is comfortably propped up in a throne of pillows, with Hob between his legs. And the first few orgasms are lovely, really. Dream can take it easily. He pets his hand through Hob’s hair, praises him, encourages him. It's only the beginning.

Hob wants to stay there until his fingers are wrinkled from being wet for so long. He wants to stay until his own mouth is dry and aching, until his lips are swollen and his nose is bruised. He wants to stay there until he passes out from exhaustion, with his tongue still buried in Dream’s pussy. He wants to give all that he has, to completely dedicate every bit of energy to Dream’s pleasure.

And Dream lets him. To be entirely fair, they both need to spend the next day in bed. Dream may not be attached to his physical form, but he's not sure he can actually stand up. Hob isn't doing much better, but he can't stop grinning.

Dream will have to come up with a punishment when he can find 2 braincells to rub together, but right now, all he wants to do is sip tea and give Hob lots and lots of cuddles. Safe to say, they will be doing it again.

[breyito]

Sacrifice AU:

Inspired by this post by @homoquartz

An idea that I had following this line of thought (not that realistically would happen in the show, of course, but as a fanfic idea) was...

What if Edwin feels that Charles is so terribly unhappy, so obviously mourning for his lost life and a future (probably with Crystal, true or not) he will never have as a ghost, so he tries to find a way to make it happen.

He researches in every free moment he has (which are more and more, as Charles spends more and more time in the living world, with Crystal and/or Niko), and he finds it. Finds the obscure ritual to bring back a ghost.

The main problem is, it requires the essense/energy or several souls. And Edwin could never destroy other souls for a selfish reason, not even to make Charles happy.

But. Then he remembers.

Remembers Esther telling him (proving to him) that his soul, tempered by the fire and suffering of Hell, is stronger than others. Much stronger. Per her words, no other ghost she tried her machine on could survive a full minute of its torture, when Edwin survived for hours.

So he does what he is an expert at. He comes up with a plan and follows through with it, no matter how painful, exhausting, endless it seems at the moment. For Charles' happiness, it will be worth it. (He's so tired)

So, every time they close a big case and the others leave to celebrate; at least twice a month, he goes back to Port Townsend. He goes back to that house haunted by painful memories. Sits in front of the place where Niko died and connects the especialized conteiner to store the energy. Bites into a piece of metal and turns it on.

Just a few minutes. Maybe half an hour, if he knows he'll be able to recover in solitude after. (One full hour, once, when they couldn't save their client's daughter and Charles had gone with Crystal to help her grieve. Completely understandable, but still...it hurts, bruises something tender inside him. And experience has shown him that physical pain can sometimes dull other kinds of pain; so he remains sitting in the machine and screams and cries, and tries to forget any other hurt except the one that has a purpose. He's so tired.)

Sometimes he sees Monty watching the house, and waves at him through the window. Travelling by mirror, Edwin doesn't really need to leave the building, so cats aren't a problem. He still places a repellant barrier, just in case. He doesn't need either crow nor cat to know what he's doing.

It takes several months before he has enough energy stored. He's sure that with the last pieces of his soul powering the ritual, it can be completed. He's so tired. He's nearly done.

(He knows that it will be quite a shock for Charles to realize he's not present anymore; but he'll have a whole new life that will be so full and joyful and beautiful that Edwin will be a fondly remembered memory in no time at all.)

He plans to do it on a lunar eclipse, to boost the power of the spell. He has collected all materials, studied all the chants, painted all the runes. Everything is ready, he just needs to wait for the date. He's so tired. He gets more and more anxious the longer he has to wait, because he craves the realese of that damned machine, the way he doesn't feel weak for crying when he's there because it is real pain, not something intangible and useless. (He knows he can't use it again, because he's almost leaking energy already, and if he spills any more he's not confident he will have enough for the ritual). He gets twitchy, snappish, mean. Sometimes he vibrates through objects in a way he hasn't done in decades. He's so tired.

The others, finally, notice. (Why now, he thinks desperately, why now that I am so close? Mortal life, complete oblivion...everything is so close and now you choose to see me?). They try to talk to Edwin about it, but of course he brushes them off or simply leaves if they are too insistent. Charles is worried sick because he's never seen a ghost flicker and vibrate like that...not unless they were cursed or ill or about to dissapear. Edwin looks weaker every day, dimmer.

They aren't the only ones who noticed, tho. Monty has been weary since he saw Edwin reading Esther's books. When he finally manages to squeeze through the barrier, months and months after it was first placed there, he's horrified at the sight of the ghost boy crying on the floor, that terrible machine slowly powering down. He resolves to wait until the next time Edwin shows up, to try and get an explanation, get him to stop.

But Edwin doesn't come back. After three weeks, Monty breaks into the house and finds all kinds of papers that lay out the plan, the ritual, the cost. The moment he sees 'then, sweet oblivion' as an anotation on the ritual page, he gets into action. Grabbing everything he can with his claws, he marches to the Cat King. Thomas has to transform him back into a human to get the full picture, but they immediately decide to head to London and either shake some sense into Edwin by exposing the truth to Charles, or kick Charles' ass for going along with Edwin's plan (the Cat Kind doesn't discard having to do both, to be honest).

They manage to get to the office, but of course, Edwin isn't there. It's the day of the eclipse, and after they show the evidence to Charles (and manage to get him out of his down spiral of self hatred) they start frantically searching for him. Crystal reading the papers doesn't help; she only gets flashes of his pain and helplesness, his shaky hands scribbling out ideas.

Finally, after some inane comment that makes things click, they head to St. Hilarion's. (It was so obvious, in retrospect: of course Edwin would choose to bring back Charles to life in the place where he died). They search all the school buildings, desperate, because he's not in the attic. Why is he not in the attic?

He's on the lake. Frozen still, the snowy surface is a perfect canvas. Pearly tear drops fall and shatter upon impact as Edwin moves, placing the rune painted stones in the exact spots where they go.

The sky beings to darken as Charles bursts from the trees, screaming for him to stop. He runs with all his might towards the shore, but it's in vain.

Edwin has always been the fastest out of the two of them.

(A cricket bat smashes against the ice, enchantments woven through the wood making the surface crack. Fissures expand quickly, but the magic is still in the air, the enormous amounts of energy feeling like lightning before the rain.

Is it too late?)

[hunterscabin]

This Baby Will Have A Father Part II

Summary: The boys have a surprise for Y/N that they hope will show how deeply they love and care for her.

Pairings: Reader x SPN Cast

Warnings: Unplanned pregnancy, reluctance to accept help and gifts, mild panic, fluff, ALLl of the fluff.

Word Count: 1.6k 

Author’s Note: This is the second and, what I had planned to be, last chapter of a mini series, but writing all of this fluff has been a nice distraction from the real world. If there is any interest, I’d gladly consider writing more. 

Part I

At nearly six months pregnant, exhaustion took on a whole new meaning. The ten to twelve hour work days you once conquered with ease now left you completely drained and lethargic. You were lying on the sofa in your trailer, contemplating how you used to manage a night out after filming, when a small slip of paper caught your eye.

You sat up, reaching toward the coffee table with some effort, and quickly recognized the handwriting.  

Meet me in my trailer. - Jare

While walking across the lot, you contemplated Jared’s note. You weren’t sure of the reason for his note, but your mind had wandered to the point that you began silently praying the boys had enough common sense not to prank a woman approaching her third trimester.

Jared must have been watching for you, because his door swung open before you reached the trailer’s steps.

“Y/N/N!” Jared beamed, ushering you into the small living space where Jensen, Misha, Alex, Rob, and Rich were eagerly awaiting your arrival.

“It smells like trouble in here.” you cautioned, leery of the knowing smiles plastered on their faces.

Misha stepped forward and took both of your hands in his.

“You know we all love you, right?”

“Yes.” You squinted at him suspiciously. “What is this, an intervention?”

“No.” Misha laughed. “We’re so excited for you, Y/N/N, but we also know how much goes into raising a baby.”

“It’s exhausting.” Rob concurred from the sofa.

“They take all of your time and energy.” Rich agreed.

Misha saw a tinge of fear flash across your face.

“We’re not trying to scare you,” he soothed, rubbing his thumbs over the back of your hands, “We just know that you have a hard time asking for help, even when you really need it.”

“And you’re gonna really need it.” Jensen stressed.  

“We weren’t kidding when we said you don’t have to do this alone.” Jared added. “We want to be with you, every step of the way.”

“And we’ve put something together to show you how serious we are.” Rich announced, proudly handing you a small scroll that was neatly tied with a thick, white ribbon.

You loosened the bow, unfurled the ivory card stock, and read the cursive heading. 

“This is a binding contract, for all who have signed, detailing the ways in which we plan to care for and love Y/N and Baby Y/L/N.”

You looked up in disbelief, finding Rich’s kind expression, and he nodded for you to continue reading.

“Alex: Date Night.”

Alex stood and walked toward you.

“What are your two favorite things?” he quizzed, already knowing your answer.

“Good food, great company.” Your reply was skeptical, but a small smile tugged at your lips upon hearing everyone recite your mantra in unison.

“Now, I don’t know if I’m considered great company,” Alex quipped, trading the scroll for a small booklet, “but I can promise good food.”

You thumbed through the pages Alex handed you and noticed each one listed the name of a restaurant you had mentioned wanting to try.

“I will be waiting at your trailer, every Friday after work, until we’ve eaten our way through Vancouver.”

“This is too much.” you shook your head.

Unsure of how to accept his kindness, your gaze fell to the floor. Alex immediately dipped his head to catch your eyes.

“I know what you're thinking,” he whispered, “and you’re wrong; you deserve to have some fun.”

Alex watched you fiddle with the booklet for a moment before offering some extra reinforcement.

“It’s either dinner out or eating in, and I really don’t want to make you or the baby suffer through my cooking.”

His threat elicited a surprised laugh, and you leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

“Thanks, Alex.”

“See you Friday night?” he confirmed. 

“It’s a date.”

Alex handed back the scroll, and you read the next name.

“Rich: Cravings.” You tilted your head to the side and crinkled your brow. “You all think I’m food obsessed, don’t you?”

Everyone laughed, as Rich took Alex’s place in front of you.

“This” he said, handing you a prepaid cell phone while holding up one of his own, “Is your designated snack line. Any time you have a craving, you just call or text, and I’ll be there!”

“You don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into.” you giggled, taking the phone. “I’ve already gone through three watermelons this week.”

“It’s only Tuesday!” Rich exclaimed. “That’s one watermelon a day!”

“This baby knows what they want.” you proclaimed, rubbing your belly.  

“I’m serious,” Rich affirmed, his face softening with sincerity, “If you need ice cream at three o’clock in the morning, I’m your man.”

“Promise not to judge me when the requests start getting crazy?”

“Honey, you should hear some of the things Jaci ate while she was pregnant. I’ve seen it all.”

“Thank you, Rich.” You grabbed his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Who’s next?” Jensen prompted.

“Rob: Lullabies.”

You looked up to find Rob fishing for something in his backpack.

“When she was especially fussy, music was the only thing that would get Audrey to sleep.” 

Rob found what he was looking for and pulled out a CD case.

“Louden Swain is putting together an album of lullabies for Baby Y/L/N, and we’ve already recorded one song.” he said, handing you the demo. “I hope you like it.”

You held the case to your heart.

“I’ll love it. The baby will love it.” You lunged forward, wrapping your arms around his neck.

 “Thank you, Rob!”

“We’re having another session next weekend, and we’d love for you to come.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

You set the CD on the counter and picked up the scroll.

“Misha: Crib.”

Misha reached out his hand, and you settled your palm against his.

“That night after you told us you were pregnant, I couldn’t sleep, so I went out to my woodshop, and eight hours later, I had this.” Misha slid his phone across the counter, revealing a photo of an ornately carved railing rung. He swiped his finger over the screen, and a dark wood headboard appeared.  

“It still needs a lot of work, but it will definitely be ready by the time the little one gets here.”

“Misha,” you breathed, your eyes filling with tears, “It’s the most beautiful crib I’ve ever seen.”

Misha stood and gathered you in his arms.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, too.”

“Hey! There are other people here who love her!” Jensen joked impatiently, when you lingered in Misha’s embrace.

“Let me guess.” you teased. “You’re next?”

Jensen gave a playful shrug, and you rolled your eyes. You sent Misha back to his chair and found Jensen’s name on the scroll. 

“Jensen: Classes.”

You looked at him quizzically.

“When Danneel was pregnant with JJ and the twins, she always felt more at ease when she was prepared, so we went to every class imaginable: delivery classes, breastfeeding classes, parenting classes…“ Jensen stopped suddenly, when he saw that you’d started wringing your hands. 

"Y/N/N, what’s wrong?”

“Those types of classes never even crossed my mind.” You spoke quietly, as if you were merely thinking out loud, but your voice was dripping with panic. 

“I’m already not doing enough. What else am I not thinking of?”

“Hey, slow down.” Jensen pulled you into his chest and cradled your head. He rubbed your back and stroked your hair while exchanging concerned glances with the group.

“I’m going to be a terrible mother.” you mumbled into Jensen’s shirt.

Jensen kissed your temple and leaned back to look at you.

“You are not going to be a terrible mother.” His voice was warm and reassuring.

Jensen brushed the hair away from your face and let out a soft chuckle.

“What are you laughing at?” you questioned, suddenly very self conscious about your hormone-induced overreaction.

“I caused the panic I was trying to prevent.” Jensen explained. 

“Before she had JJ, Danneel and I were out to dinner with a couple who were also expecting their first baby. They mentioned an infant CPR course, and Dee lost it in the middle of the restaurant. She said the exact same things you just did.”

“But Dee’s a great mother.”

“And you will be too. I promise.”

Jensen’s hand found the side of your face, and you leaned into his touch.

“Thank you, Jensen.”

Jared cleared his throat behind you.

“I hate to ruin a moment, but there’s one more person on that list.”

When you turned, Jared winked, and you said his name before even picking up the scroll.

“Jared:” you skimmed down to the last line of the page, “Doctors’ Appointments.”

Your eyes widened in anticipation.

“Starting now, you are not going to a single doctor’s appointment by yourself.”

“But there are so many.” you objected, your independent nature getting the better of you.

“There are,” Jared conceded, “and I don’t want you going to any of them alone.”

You stood in silence, stunned at his generosity.

“Y/N/N, if it makes you uncomfortable, I don’t have to go in with you, but I am at least going to drive you and wait for you until the appointment is over.”

“I…” you tried to order words in a way that would accurately expressed your gratitude, but language failed to give meaning to the love and appreciation swelling in your heart. 

“I don’t know how to thank you.” You turned to the group, “All of you.”

“You can thank us by not putting up a fight when we offer to help you.” Jared’s tone was loving but firm.

“Deal.” you agreed.

You looked around the room at all of your friends and were overcome with emotion.

“I was right to think this baby won’t have a father.” you paused. “They’ll have six.”

Masterlist

[hergrandplan]

👀

Haunt Me

Hi! Thank you so much for sending this in.

Leave a “Haunt Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about one character watching over another [as a ghost, watching from a distance, or otherwise, feel free to specify.]

Send me a prompt and I will write a drabble fic

the 👀 makes me think you wanted angst but I got this idea and couldn't let it go... so how about some tooth rotting fluff and Wille being so in love with his boyfriend instead?

Or: Simon is on a world tour and Wille misses him. Luckily, there are always fans livestreaming the show. (This thing is heavily inspired by Taylor Swift, but I hope you like it anyways!) (rated T, 2.2k, nothing but fluff)

Wille lets himself fall down on the big double bed, still in his suit. The only thing he even bothered to take off are his shoes. He doesn’t have any energy for the rest of his clothes.

He’s been in back-to-back meetings all day, each one more pointless than the last. Sometimes, he feels like an overglorified (and overpaid) party planner, when he picks out the color scheme for another charity gala or decides on the menu for a lunch with the prime minister.

It’s moments like these where he thinks that Simon does have a point about how the whole monarchy is just a waste of money.

Of course, they’re not completely pointless – they get things done, things that matter to certain people (usually not to him, but to some people), so he just grunts and bears it and tries not to complain too much about it whenever he talks to Simon.

No matter how pointless the meetings are though, they still leave him utterly exhausted. Which is fine, most of the time, because most of the time Simon will be waiting for him in their apartment, and they’ll curl up on the couch together with takeout while they talk through their day, Simon enthusiastically talking about all the advances he made – songs he’s written, or a release date for his new album, and Wille will be content enough to just listen.

He loves listening to him, whether it’s talking or singing. He also loves the sparkle in his eyes, the way he rushes his words out and the stupid grin he gets on his face that Wille can’t help but kiss.

He loves all of him, and Wille can simply never get enough of him.

But today, Wille didn’t come home to the smell of arepas being made in the kitchen, or soft piano notes echoing through the rooms. He came home to a dark and empty and cold apartment, because his boyfriend is currently on a world tour, playing sold out stadiums night after night. And while Wille is so proud of him for doing that, he also misses him, especially on days like today when everything feels just slightly too much.

Wille reaches for his phone to check the time, holding on to the little bit of hope that Simon isn’t on stage yet and they can call, and he can hear his voice, even if it’s just for one minute.

They try and call as often as they can when one or the other is away, and when Simon’s on tour it’s usuallybefore he goes on stage. But when Wille looks at the time, his heart sinks with the realization that there’s no way he’s going to be able to talk to Simon before the show’s over – he will have just gone on, will have juststarted singing.

Having been at his shows more often than Wille can count, Wille knows exactly what it looks like when Simon comes on stage.

Wille closes his eyes, imagining the stage, lit up in purples and blues (Simon always seems to look extraordinarily beautiful under the purple lights). He imagines the band getting into place, fine tuning their instruments to make sure they’re ready for a solid two hours of playing.  

Then, Simon will enter under the sound of shrill guitars and a steady drum. He will run out on the stage, mic in hand, and he will look out over the crowd as the music falls still for a second. His lips will quirk up into a smirk as the crowd holds their breath and then –

He kicks off, voice loud and powerful and filling up every inch of space no matter how big the venue. He has a voice, and he always makes sure it’s heard.

Wille will never tire of that moment. Especially when he’s there, watching him. Because when he’s there, Simon will find inevitably find him in the crowd time and time again. And every time, Wille warmth blooms in Wille’s chest. Because that’s his man, who has the crowd at his fingertips. That’s his man they’re screaming for. And at the end of the show, that’s his man he’ll be going home with.

Wille rolls over in their bed, the one that hasn’t smelled like Simon in a long time, and sighs. Fuck, he misses him. He misses his body pressed against him at night, soft curls tickling his nose. He misses his raspy voice when he’s just woken up, when his brain has yet to fully turn on and he leans in to kiss him, softly and tenderly and lazy in the golden morning glow. He misses their lazy morning kisses, Wille pressing Simon into the mattress, hands wandering everywhere. And yes, he misses the sex – his own hand just doesn’t quite cut it. They do have phone sex, and it’s hot and does the trick, but it isn’t the same. It’s not the same as Simon taking up all his senses.

Wille sits up again and leans back against the headboard. Lying here and missing his boyfriend isn’t going to magic him in bed with him, he knows that. So he does the next best thing, the thing he always does when he misses his boyfriend just slightly too much, like he does tonight: he grabs his laptop.

He watches this so often, that he doesn’t even need to type in SimonErikssonHockeyBro in the search bar anymore; the livestream is the first thing on his for-you page, the algorithm knowing him slightly too well.

One of the biggest perks about Simon’s fame is that he has so many fans that there’s always one or two people livestreaming his concert so that people who don’t have tickets, or boyfriends who just really miss their partner, can enjoy the show too. SimonErikssonHockeyBro, also known as Ryan, tries to find the best livestream every night so people don’t have to go to too much trouble to find one.

Wille initially didn’t tell Simon that this was a thing, that people were doing it. But one night, while they were on the phone after the concert, Wille had accidentally let something slip about the lights glitching, and he had been forced to come clean. (Simon doesn’t mind though, that people are doing this. He believes art should be free anyways, and that he’s glad that people who don’t have the money to see him can at least see it in some capacity. He even asked Wille to make a very sizeable donation to Ryan once, and Wille had made sure he was screen recording when Ryan received it so Simon could see how he almost fell off his chair once he saw the few hundred dollars come in).

Wille clicks into the live stream. Simon has just started on the third song on the setlist, a personal favorite of Wille’s called ‘All the Best’. It’s an electric song, something you can’t help but dance to, and that’s exactly what the crowd is doing. From his spot on the bed, Wille is nodding along too.

He’s doesn’t get up to dance though – no, because that would mean taking his eyes away from the screen when all he wants to do is watch Simon as he jumps around on stage while somehow keeping his voice as steady as ever, never sounding out of breath (Wille will always be in awe of his boyfriend’s talent to do that).

45 minutes pass while Wille’s eyes are glued to the screen. He laughs as Simon cracks jokes about the signs he sees and feels tears burn when Simon plays love song, and he swears he can see Simon’s eyes turn just a bit red too. All the while, he feels so, so proud of his boyfriend. He’s standing in a sold out arena in Paris of all places, the crowd singing along to every song at the top of their lungs. Simon looks so happy on the stage, smiling pretty the whole time as he looks out into the crowd time and time again.

He made his dream come true, and Wille was there every step of the way. And if that means that they have to spend time apart sometimes? That they have to spend entire weeks miles away from each other? Well, then so be it. Simon is living his dream, and that’s all that matters.

Meanwhile, on the stage, Simon’s band members have gone off, leaving Simon alone. The lights have turned warmer, into a soft yellow. The lights sharpen his face, and Wille is once again struck by how gorgeous he is.

There’s a piano on stage, and a guitar next to it. Simon grabs the guitar and walks back to the mic stand.

“Bonjour Paris!” he says, beaming while looking out over the crowd. “And welcome to the acoustic section!”

In the corner of his eye, the comment section of the livestream is exploding with guesses as to what Simon might play today.

The acoustic section is something he started doing a while back as a way to make every show slightly unique. He’ll play a song that’s not on the setlist, one on guitar, and one on piano, and bask in how the crowd takes everything in.

It’s Wille’s favorite moment of the whole show.

Simon launches into the first of the acoustic song, playing an uptempo tune as he sways along, completely taken over by the music. It’s a fairly old one, something from his first album, but the crowd still knows every word anyways.

After that’s done, and the crowd has stopped clapping and screaming, Simon goes to sit behind the piano.

“Now, this next one… this next one is a bit special to me. Well, I always try to make the songs special, try to come up with what I think you’d like to hear most of all. But tonight, I wanted to play something I haven’t sang in a hot minute, because I have yet to play this song without crying.” The crowd gives their sympathy with a resounding aww, and Simon chuckles.

“Don’t worry, it’s not a sad song. It’s a very happy song, actually. It’s about being in love and finding your person, the one you’d move heaven and hell for – and realizing they’d do the same for you. It’s about that moment where you realize that this, what you’ve got, is it. So this is for my person, who isn’t here tonight, but I miss him, and wanted to play it anyways.”

Simon plays the first notes, and Wille recognizes the song instantly. His mouth falls open as he keeps staring at the screen, watching his boyfriend lean closer to the mic. His voice rings out like an angel, soft and clear and tender.

Wille doesn’t hold back when the tears start to falling. He’s alone in his room so no one will see them. No one will hear him cry because Simon is playing the first song he ever wrote about them as a couple, a few months after they’d gotten back together.

The song he wrote one summer night, while Wille was sat there right next to him giving him feedback. He’s not credited on the track list, but they wrote it together.

This, more than anything else, is their song.

Wille’s so in love in this moment, as he watches Simon play, eyes closed, that he feels like he genuinely might stop breathing.

When the song ends, Simon throws his head back as the crowd erupts into the loudest cheer of the whole night, something that goes on for minutes.

But Wille sees how there’s a single tear rolling down his cheek, and now, more than ever, he wishes he could be there with Simon. That after the show, he’d be able to fall into him and fall into place with him and never let him go.

Wille is in a complete trance for the rest of the show, barely registering what’s really happening on stage, only marvelling at Simon. How did he ever get so lucky to spend the rest of forever with this angel? Who’s out there, singing that song on the night when Wille missed him so much?

It’s only when the show’s over, the livestream ended, that he jolts back to reality.

He needs to make dinner. He needs to make dinner, because he hasn’t eaten yet and he wants to do so before Simon calls him.

Because Simon will call him. Simon will call him as soon as everything’s packed up, and as soon as photos with some lucky fans have been taken. He will call him, and Wille will tell him how wonderful he was, how beautiful he looked, how much he loves him. Simon will say it back, will say how much he misses him too. He will talk excitedly about how great the show was, how thrilling the crowd, but how it would have been a million times better if Wille had been there.

While on the phone with Simon, Wille will text Farima to arrange a flight to Paris for the next day.

[1galaxia369]

CAPRICORN RISING♑️

You have been very hard on yourself, I understand the purpose of it but you are doing it all wrong. Self reflection and shadow work is completely different from bullying yourself. You're going through an awakening right now, the universe is calling you out, you guys have a higher purpose in this world. Some of you guys have secret plans that you have been working on and some dreams that you are about to entertain that know one knows. I know you are very protective of your ideas and desires, but being ruled by saturn isn't easy, always working extra hard because the whole thing might fall apart if you don't focus & put your all in oryou'll have to start over. Not to mention having envious people around you that silently sabotage all your projects. Add a mind that is your biggest enemy and you have the recipe for an extremely exhausted human. When will you address that and put an end to it? All those voices in your head, whether it's you valuing your worth based on your productivity or the voices of people who can't see your vision. The best way to stop the noise is by first acknowledging it's there, then you have to find out why you allow those thoughts in, Ask yourself do you think they're right, ask yourself again if you or your talents and skills fit into that low bar that everyone else is setting for you, when did these other people whose drive and skill could never match up to yours have the power to convince you that you can't succeed at all your goals? It's literally judgement time, you are being pushed to cut that behavior out, allowing negativity to cloud your mind and breed self doubt and self sabotage. It's time to become YOU. Reflection, renewal and reckoning is your energy. That plan that you've been working for the past couple of months or years even is finally coming in to play, there's a major turn around coming. You've been tending to your garden well and you'll be harvesting the fruits of your labor very soon.

Overall, success is coming in whatever field that has been your focus for a while now. If you been waiting on an answer this is it, if you are actually about to start something now is a good time. Plant the seeds and wait patiently, the success is guaranteed with consistent care and effort. Celebration is store for you guys, party and go out have fun, you've been working too hard. You give yourself no breaks and you don't treat yourself enough, there's nothing in this world more important than you. Stop putting yourself last in every situation. There are also people that don't mean you well, as you progress and evolve you'll be removing and rearranging a lot of things in your life and finally setting BOUNDARIES. Them people not gonna like that! You have to stand on business though, NO means NO. You plan out your day, if it ain't life or death then you have to prioritize your self and your projects. I feel like a lot of people who aren't dependent on you, always depend on you to show up regardless of what you got going on. You have to discern if they are more important than accomplishing those daily goals. Procrastination is a big issue for Capricorns, no matter the placement, always allowing yourself to be drawn away from your work routine. You set that plan up so that you can properly show up for yourself and have time to handle your other responsibilities. It's wasted if you keep having to remake your plans and routines to accommodate others, leaving simple work that can be done today for tomorrow, now tomorrow is thrown off and now you're burnt out. This cycle always opens the door for you to start beating yourself up. I understand that people need your help and you're the jack of all trades but it can be done whenever you are free, you don't drop everything to go help someone with something they can wait to do or pay someone to do. All humans were born with their own physical capabilities no need to fuck yourself up to show for them. Have strength and enforce your boundaries and do not waver, they can wait, finish your stuff first.

You are safe to move forward with your plans, invest your time, skills and money. You'll have a return on investment WHEN it is successful ( take the word 'if' and change it to 'when'...change 'I think' to 'I know'). Be excited, you escape and find solace in your work and creative endeavors, you complicate that flow by being hard on yourself. You are supported too, remember that. You'll be noticing that all of a sudden you'll have more money in your hands to spend on yourself and invest into you projects. The universe and your spirit guides are handing you support and opportunities, take them and don't hesitate. You know what a good opportunity looks like trust yourself to pursue them and watch the success come true. Movement is happening, this is exciting, changes will be happening all around you! Be happy! Some of you will be travelling really soon, or moving away from where you are or even relocating internationally. Be happy for once and trust that good things can happen for you.

I recommend spending time in nature, you need peace and quiet,observe the animals and the ecosystem. Smudge your surroundings (and yourself) you need to get rid of all that negative energy.(sage,palo santo,sweet grass, incense) Breathing exercises are needed 15 deep breaths for release. Close your eyes and visualize the things you want accomplished, manifest more. Be delusional about your goals.

12:12 12:22 12:34

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Hey lovelies!!

Did you know that @bokettochild graduated college??? Did you know that she’s awesome and deserves to be celebrated and have her tumblr family celebrate with her??? Because she 100% does.

So! I’m declaring a graduation party post for Ketto! Reblog this post, tag Ketto, and send her some love/accolades. ❤️ I’ve got a few gifts for her from some of us!

Here’s some art from @nancyheart11!

And some art from @kikker-oma!

And here's a gift from me :D

Lon Lon Ranch had been lovely. It really had. But Legend wasn’t accustomed to staying in one place for too long, and seeing a Hero of Courage settled into such domesticity was…

The veteran sighed, crossing his arms irritably.

At least they were done. A part of him felt bad even thinking that, but he was too annoyed and tired to worry about it much. Malon was wonderful, and he would love to visit again, but… whatever. He woke up irritated today, he was sore and hurting and wasn’t in the mood to deal with anyone.

When the sailor bounced over and started talking excitedly to him, Legend did his best to make an exception for the kid. He didn’t have to speak much when Wind was around anyway - the youngest Link usually did enough talking for the whole group.

As Wind started showing Legend his seashell collection, however, the veteran’s patience started to wear thin. His acknowledgements grew shorter by the second, and when the sailor paused to rifle through his bag, Legend pat the kid’s back and walked away to just get some distance.

Which was then taken away from him by Wild stepping in his path. “Hey Vet, I had an idea about your fire rod–”

“No,” Legend immediately said dully. “You’re enough of a pyromaniac. You’re not touching it.”

“Well, technically the captain has it now–”

“And I can take it from him whenever I want. He’s borrowing it.”

“Long-term borrowing,” Warriors pointed out with a smirk as he waved the rod. “Thanks again for that, though.”

Legend waved his hand dismissively, stepping around Wild.

“Hey, I found it!” Wind chirped cheerily, completely missing the fact that Legend was desperately trying to be alone.

“I don’t care,” the elder Hero finally snapped. Wind’s brow furrowed in exasperation and the kid huffed.

Warriors rolled his eyes. “You’re already not a morning person, are you not an evening person either? Is there any time you’re not a grouch?”

Legend felt his ire bubbling more. “Not everyone can babble aimlessly for two hours like you can.”

“What’s eating you up?” Warriors asked, his face pinching in annoyance.

“You are! Anything is! I’m just tired, damn it, aren’t I allowed to be tired?” Legend finally snapped before pointing accusingly at Sky. “Sky’s always tired and nobody gets on him for it!”

The area quieted, most of the boys looking in his direction. Legend regretted saying it the instant he did. Sky’s exhaustion was both a point of contention and a point of concern to many in the group, most notably Sky himself.

Feeling even worse now, the veteran stormed out of the camp, ignoring Wind’s call.

They had traveled fairly far in the day since they’d departed Lon Lon Ranch. A portal has fed into a bright, forested area, and they’d cut their path through hills until they hit the base of a mountain and had settled for the day. With fresh energy within his body, fueled by frustration and an ache he couldn’t put words to, Legend traipsed up a set of stone stairs that overlooked the forest sloping down the mountainside. He traipsed onward, foliage and sticks snapping in his wake, birdsong echoing in the air alongside the distant call of fairy magic. The air cooled the higher he climbed, his face flushed and stinging by the time he emerged from the dense woods.

The vague path he’d been following bled into a wide opening, the peak of the mountain, a place of harshly cut stone and constant winds and a view of the world below. He climbed the rock a little ways before sliding into a seated position, the wind settling a bit as crickets heralded the oncoming dusk.

Legend sighed.

He… hadn’t meant to snap like that, but by the triforce it wasn’t like he hadn’t been trying to hold himself together.

There was the sound of a foot slipping on rock, and Legend reached for his blade automatically when he turned and saw Sky.

The veteran hero froze, unsure what to expect. The Skyloftian was huffing a little, clearly winded, but trying to keep it quiet as he followed Legend’s path up the steep rocks. Eventually, he settled beside Legend with a little smile.

“Sorry for the captain,” Sky offered after a moment. “He means well, but he pushes too much sometimes.”

Sky had followed him all the way up here to apologize for someone else? Legend’s annoyance grew, but it died just as easily. He didn’t have energy to be upset about this anymore. He wanted to be alone, he wanted comfort, he wanted isolation, he didn’t know what he wanted.

“No, it’s…”

It’s more than that. He knew it was. Spending too much time at the ranch… it…

It reminded him of everything he didn’t have. Everything he could’ve had if he hadn’t lost it. And maybe it was stupid to feel that way, especially when he did enjoy adventuring so much, but…

But sometimes it just hurt.

Sky watched him for a little while, body relaxing as he had time to catch his breath. Legend didn’t know what to say.

“Do you miss home?” Sky asked.

Legend huffed. “Not much to miss. Besides, I’m on a new quest. I don’t think about home much.”

The elder Link’s brow furrowed slightly at the words, and then Sky grew pensive, staring out at the view in front of them. A falcon flew across the way, gliding by their line of vision as it let the wind carry it effortlessly.

“I didn’t want to be a Hero,” Sky said softly, making Legend stare at him. The crickets filled the silent void that followed before the knight continued, “It didn’t make sense that it was me. I was the lazy one, the guy who was always tired and daydreaming. I didn’t really have a direction or plan for anything. I just… coasted through life.”

Legend watched him, unsure what to say about the situation and still too caught in his own head to offer words anyway. Sky smiled softly, his eyes distant. “But the goddess had other plans. It’s… comforting to know we all have paths laid out for us, and it’s fun figuring out where we fit in with the world around us, you know?”

Sighing, the veteran hero nodded, gaze drifting to the valley below. He puffed out his chest a little. “It’s an honor to be a Hero. I’m thankful for that honor.”

“Yes,” Sky agreed, though the lilt in his tone indicated there was more to it. “But your path has sucked.”

This startled a laugh out of Legend, harsh and bitter and surprisingly vulnerable. The veteran hero hiccupped and covered his faux pas with a little quip. “That wasn’t the most eloquent way to phrase it.”

Sky shrugged with a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m not really an eloquent guy. But I can tell when there’s more to things than people say.”

His friend looked him in the eye, eyes seeming to bore into his soul. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

Legend was held hostage in the gaze, words caged in his chest alongside his breath.

His uncle. Marin. He’d lost many on his journeys. He’d been isolated, hurt, terrified.

His breath released shakily, shoulders slumping as he looked at his lap, breaking the hold Sky had on him. “.....Yeah.”

The crickets chirped gently as a breeze brushed by them, cooling the hot flush of tears threatening to spill. Legend closed his eyes a moment, letting the wind carry him, feeling his hair tickle his face.

Sky’s hand was gentle on his back. “It’s… okay not to be okay sometimes, you know.”

The words were so simple. Ridiculously simple. Stupidly simple. Legend bit his lip.

He truly did love being a hero, he truly did love being able to help others. Why wasn’t that enough? He didn’t need to let everything else phase him.

It’s okay not to be okay sometimes.

Legend hiccupped. Folded in on himself. Shuddered.

And then he cried.

It was embarrassing, really, and at first he tried to downplay it. The hiccups and sobs tire out of him in startled gasps, but the more he tightened into a ball and tried to muscle through it, the gentler Sky’s hold became.

Legend tried to snap at Sky to lay off and leave him be, and all that came out was a loud hiccup that caught him so off guard he had to laugh at it. Sky took it as an invitation, pulling him sideways so his head settled on the knight’s shoulder, and Legend couldn’t stop the tears and desperate gasps that escaped him.

Sky’s head relaxed over Legend’s, his body warm at the veteran’s side. He didn’t say anything, and he didn’t have to. Legend cried until he only had little pathetic hiccups remaining, and the younger Link sniffled, grumbling as he pulled a handkerchief out of his pouch.

Legend blew his nose and had a snippy halfhearted remark at the tip of his tongue before he sighed and pulled away, letting himself be vulnerable a moment longer. “Thanks. I… thanks.”

Sky’s smile was as soft as the clouds overhead, eyes watching him carefully. “You’re welcome. Want to head back?”

The air grew chillier by the moment, and though Legend probably would prefer to stay up here, he knew the others would start to worry. Warriors and Twilight would probably go searching for them soon. He took a breath of the mountain air and let the wind dry his tears, and then he nodded.

When they returned to the camp, everyone was waiting in various states of worry or curiosity. Wind offered a small hello, and Legend smiled at the youngest member, reassuring him that his earlier outburst was not the sailor’s fault.

The veteran hero hugged himself a little, not caring for all the scrutiny he was receiving and definitely not knowing how to backtrack on his earlier outburst. He didn’t have to, though - everyone settled into a routine, worry abated by Sky’s smile and nod. The team huddled around the fire for dinner, a quiet cheer bubbling from Link to Link in the form of snippets of conversations. 

Wind flopped onto the ground with a laugh. “You should’ve seen the captain and the rancher, they were about ready to arm wrestle over who was gonna find you two!”

“Arm wrestle?” Sky asked with a laugh as he slipped his sailcloth off.

“The old man suggested it because they kept trying to one up each other,” Hyrule explained with a smile. “The captain would say it was his responsibility to make sure you were ok and then Rancher would say he was the better tracker and it went on for like forever.”

Four silently laid out some blankets for a softer seating area, and he and Sky settled with a space in between as the knight plopped his cloak over his friend.

As Legend settled beside Sky, comfortably wrapped in his sailcloth, he accepted Wild’s hearty stew and sighed with a little smile. “Thanks. I… I don’t deserve you guys.”

“Ah, yes, you are correct, you absolutely do not deserve me,” Warriors tutted with a false air of superiority and a wink. “But I shall grace you with my presence nonetheless.”

Legend shoved the captain with a roll of his eyes, chuckling despite the maneuver, and the group shared a hearty meal that warmed his heart and soul alongside his stomach.