#you look at a mineral with a hardness of 3 and go “oh yeah I want that inside my body right now”

[iamthepulta]

Suddenly panicking that people actually do think they can fuck the malachite stalactite now. Listen guys. Quartz is RIGHT THERE. We did a post on what you CAN safely fuck! DO NOT FUCK CARBONATES.

[nemobeatrice]

The Golden Miners - Chapter 3: Beach Episode

Ao3

Quotev

Wattpad

Giorno lay on the floor, covered in a soft orange blanket, still sleeping. The sun beams made it hard to stay asleep, and he tossed and turned, causing Fugo to groan and hug him. Giorno stopped wiggling to let him rest, but the sun wouldn’t allow Giorno to. Annoyed, he woke up, but Fugo wasn’t next to him. Instead, it was Narancia.

Giorno’s eyes were wide open. How did this happen? Never mind that. He tried to slip away, but Narancia held him tighter.

“Mista,” he said in his sleep.

There was no way Giorno was getting out of this. Or so he thought until Narancia tossed around, hugging Fugo instead. He got up and saw it, not getting jealous, but was unsure if he should wake up Narancia. The boy slept peacefully but drooled on the Fugo, but he didn’t like getting dirtied or slobbered on.

Then Fugo tossed around, hugging Mista. That’s when he realized something was wrong. Fugo woke up, looking at Giorno, who stood above him. “What?” He looked to his left and right. “How the—” He moved Narancia’s arm, got up, and looked at his boyfriend, concerned about his eye. “How’s your eye? It looks bruised.”

Giorno touched the area around his eye and felt a slight pain. “It’ll be fine.”

They heard Trish yawn and looked at her. She slept on the couch. “Oh, my back! Oh, good morning! Oh, Giorno, your eye!”

Sheila, who slept on a different couch, woke up soon after. “Morning. Ugh, I’m hungry.” She rubbed her eyes. “What do you—” She sniffed the air. “I smell coffee. Hold on. I’ll be back.” She got up and went into Narancia’s kitchen.

“We didn’t think about breakfast,” Trish said. “What will we eat today? Are we going to a restaurant? I hope Narancia wakes up soon.”

Sheila returned with a cup of coffee and sat on the couch. “Narancia’s dad made coffee if you guys want any.” On the coffee table was a TV remote. “These two won’t mind if I turn on the TV, do they?”

The three shrugged.

“Eh, I’ll turn on the TV, anyways. I’ll try not to be loud.”

She turned on the TV, which turned to the news, causing Narancia’s dad to walk into the living room despite the low volume.

“Could you leave it there?” he asked. “I need to know if there’s any traffic.” He snatched the remote before Sheila could answer and turned up the volume, causing Narancia and Mista to wake up.

“Ugh, what time is it?” Narancia said as he slowly stood up.

“It’s almost 7 AM,” his dad answered. “I should be ready to leave. Narancia, make sure to take your friends out for breakfast. I don’t want them to eat all the food we have.” He took out his wallet and handed his boy some cash. “Oh, and make sure you buy some toothpaste. We’re running low.” He left.

“Wow,” Sheila said. She then faced Narancia. “So, where are we eating?”

Narancia looked at the amount of money he had. “Probably McDonald’s.”

“Ugh, McDonald’s?” Giorno complained.

“Don’t McDonald’s from across the world have different menus?” Narancia looked at Fugo for answers.

“Well, yeah,” he said. “But you might as well have something at home. It’s not that good.”

“Come on! McDonald’s is the only place I can afford to buy food.”

“I guess I could try it,” Giorno said.

“Sweet! McDonald’s it is, then!” Narancia smiled.

“Should we brush our teeth now?” Mista asked. “I don’t eat breakfast anywhere else, but I at least brush my teeth before I head out.”

“We probably should,” Trish said. “I also need to put some makeup on Giorno before we leave.”

Narancia tried to avoid looking at his face. “I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s alright,” Giorno said. He then looked at his boyfriend. “Oh, Fugo, want me to wear the blue outfit today?”

-

After everyone brushed their teeth and changed clothes, they walked to McDonald’s. There wasn’t much on the menu, but Giorno got something that wasn’t a McMuffin.

“So,” Narancia started, looking at Giorno eat, “do you like it?”

Giorno had a pane al cioccolato, chocolate bread. “Um, it tastes like chocolate.” He also had a cup of coffee and took a sip. “Hmm, coffee isn’t my thing, though. I wonder where shall we head to?” he asked, looking at Fugo.

“The beach!” Trish interrupted.

Fugo frowned. “The beach? Really? I think—”

“That sounds like a great idea,” Giorno interrupted. “I wonder how the water feels like here.”

“Oho! You’ll love it!” Mista added. “Ah, I’d go, but my legs are tired from playing Just Dance yesterday and walking over here.”

“Ugh, same!” Narancia complained. “I’m never doing that again.”

“Giorno, are you sure you want to go to the beach?” Fugo asked.

“Yeah, of course! Besides, you’re probably tired of visiting these historical places you’ve already visited.”

“I was going to suggest heading to Museo Cappella Sansevero. But I never get tired of going to places I’ve seen. I’ll follow you anywhere.” He held Giorno’s hand under the table, slightly squeezing it.

“So,” Trish started, “Giorno, you have a swimsuit?”

“Of course I do.”

“Alright, so it’s just going to be us four.”

“Don’t drown out there,” warned Mista.

“Make that six,” Sheila said. “Clara is coming with Toto.”

“Toto?” Giorno questioned.

“That’s my dog.”

“Well, don’t let us keep you from going,” Narancia said. “I just texted my mom. She’s coming by to pick us up.”

-

Clara arrived at the McDonald’s to pick up Sheila, Trish, Fugo, and Giorno but dropped the blonds off at the mansion to prepare for the trip to the beach. Giorno brought some fruit and water, placing them in the cooler, and Fugo searched every room for sunscreen. They were ready to go, and Fugo texted Sheila.

“Hey,” Giorno spoke, “which beach are we heading to?”

Fugo asked Sheila through text where they were heading. “Spiaggia Miliscola.”

They waited for the girls to arrive and got in their car when they came, and Clara drove to the destination. The girls already had their swimsuits on. Trish had a light yellow ruffle two-piece swimsuit with white polka dots, and Sheila looked the same as usual except missing her loose coat. Clara only wore a plain green one-piece swimsuit, and Toto sat on Sheila’s lap.

Once they arrived at the beach, they picked a spot and planted their umbrella, chairs, and towels. The girls helped each other put on sunscreen while the blonds helped themselves. Since the blonds finished applying the sunscreen, they were about to head into the water until Sheila stopped them.

“Hey, Fugo, what do you have in your cooler?” she asked.

“Fruits. We brought grapes, apples, watermelon—”

“Watermelon? Can I have some?”

“Sure! Go nuts! We also brought some French mineral water.”

Trish looked at Fugo. “I am thirsty. Sheila, could you hand me a bottle?”

While the girls ate and drank, the boys went into the water.

“The water’s warm!” Giorno commented.

“I haven’t been to the beach in years,” Fugo said. “I don’t think Mother would’ve approved, but whatever.” He splashed water at him, damping his hair. “I’ve never seen you with wet hair before until now.”

Giorno splashed him. “Neither have I.”

“Hey, wait for me!” Sheila yelled at them.

“Didn’t you just eat?” Giorno asked. “You’ll get a cramp.”

“I think that’s a myth,” Fugo informed him. “Then again, I could be wrong. My parents made me focus on law, not health.”

“I’m not going that deep into the water,” she said. “Trish, you coming?”

“Alright!” Trish hurried to Sheila’s side.

“Clara, what about you?”

“I need to watch the dog,” she said.

The girls joined the blonds, swimming and playing around for a while. However, they forgot Trish applied makeup on Giorno to cover his bruised eye. It went unnoticed until Fugo went to kiss him.

“Oh no,” Fugo said. “We forgot!”

“Your bruise!” Trish panicked. “I didn’t bring my makeup with me!”

“Just look like an emo for now.”

“An emo?” questioned Giorno. “I doubt an emo would be at the beach.”

“Shoot, how will we explain this?” Sheila asked.

“I don’t know,” Fugo said. “Does it hurt still?”

“If I touch it.”

“This looks bad for you, Fugo,” Trish said. “They’ll think you’re an abuser.”

“But I didn’t do it!” he yelled. “It’s Narancia’s fault!”

“Quiet, you two!” Sheila demanded. “Two people are approaching my sister. One is some guy with tattoos on his arms and pink hair. The other guy has short white hair and is buff, like a bodybuilder. They’re holding hands.”

“Pink hair?” Trish looked at the couple. Clara said something to them, causing the buff guy to panic. The pink-haired guy looked confused. “I wasn’t going to ask that pink-haired guy something, but he looks way too young to—”

“Trish, I think you should give that a rest.”

“What’s going on?” Giorno asked.

“Nothing, it’s nothing.” Trish frowned.

The more Giorno spent time with Fugo’s friends, the more curious he got. “Let’s get out of the water. We’ve been soaking long enough.”

“Huh? What about your bruise?” Sheila asked.

“We can’t hide it.” Giorno got out of the water.

Clara focused on Toto until she heard someone approaching her again. “Oh, Giorno—what happened to your eye? Did Sheila hit you? I thought bruises show up in a day or two.”

“Narancia accidentally hit me. I’ll be drying up here.” Giorno sat on his towel, grabbing grapes and a bottled glass of water from the cooler.

Fugo and the others got out of the water and joined him. Trish sat on a chair and read a book from her bags, and Sheila tried to build a house made out of sand for Toto.

“Hey, sis,” Sheila said, still focused on her building, “who were those two you were talking with?”

“I don’t know the pink-haired guy,” Clara answered, “but the guy he was with is Risotto Nero.” She sighed. “He’s one of Illuso’s friends.”

“A friend of Illuso?” Sheila’s brows furrowed, and she revealed her teeth. She looked ready to bite someone. “Grr, a friend of Illuso is an enemy of mine!”

“This isn’t helping!” Clara covered her face and started crying.

Sheila felt bad and continued building the dog house.

“Don’t worry,” consoled Trish, who brought out her phone. “Illuso will be a social pariah after the callout post I made on Tumblr and Twitter. No one will want to hang out with an abuser.”

“What!” She stopped crying. “Take that down right now! You’ll get in trouble for that!”

“I don’t understand. I thought you hated him.”

“I do, but don’t spread lies! Take it down, now!”

“Alright. There, it’s gone.” Trish showed her phone to Clara.

Fugo brought his phone out from the bag. “It’s gone. I don’t see it.”

“What’s going on?” whispered Giorno.

“Illuso broke up with Clara, and she won’t get over it,” he whispered. “Rumor has it that Illuso realized that he’s gay. I think she should get over it.”

“But did he abuse her?”

“No! I don’t think so.”

They spent a few more minutes at the beach until it was time to head home. Trish and the others took a photo before they left and posted it on Instagram. Clara dropped off the boys and drove off. Fugo and Giorno headed to the mansion and noticed a small box. Fugo opened it, and it was their Assassin’s Creed original characters.

“Huh, Scolippi must’ve been here,” Giorno said.

“Let’s put this inside.”

The two entered the mansion, heading to the room. Fugo placed the sculpture on the nightstand, and Giorno went into the bathroom to shower.

“You think we should make a vlog?” Fugo asked, waiting for Giorno to get out of the shower.

“That’s fine, but aren’t we on summer vacation?” Giorno shouted so he could hear him.

“We need to make views somehow while we’re vacationing.”

“Why don’t you schedule some videos?”

“I did, but I didn’t think how quickly time passed. I did think of making more, but I wanted a break.”

The shower stopped, and Giorno slightly peeped out from the door. “Alright, then, let’s make a vlog.”

“Right.”

After Fugo took his shower, the two talked about how their vacation went and discussed their plans for the next four days before Giorno had to go home. The thought of Giorno leaving had upset Fugo, causing his boyfriend to kiss him.

“Feeling better now?” Giorno asked.

“Could I have a little more?”

Giorno smiled and attacked him with kisses.

“Want me to edit that out?” Fugo asked.

“I don’t mind if people see us.”

“I’d like to keep it, but YouTube would probably take it down. Ugh, I wish there was a better platform to post on.” He frowned but smiled soon after. “Want to try Dead Island? I’ve never tried it before.”

“Neither have I. Is it okay if I record us playing it? We could post it on the group channel.”

“Alright, but I’m not editing it.”

“Don’t worry. Just post the video privately then we’ll edit it whenever we feel like it.”

[svchengss]

king of hearts | d.sc

PAIRING. dong sicheng x reader

GENRE. high school!au, fluff, slight angst, kind of e2l

WARNINGS. none (lmk if i missed any!)

WORD COUNT. 6.7k

SUMMARY. sicheng’s subtle flirts are not working effectively but it only motivates him to try and woo you more. the devil sure works hard but dong sicheng works harder.

PLAYLIST. king of hearts

TAGLIST. @floraljae @clovdless @mashiihearts @ndr1271 @kunrengui (shoutout to mashi for being a major help in the process of writing this <3)

// just to let you guys know, reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !! thank you for reading :D

music was blaring through the multiple loudspeakers scattered around the school grounds, booths of various interests that were set-up by the clubs being swarmed by visitors and ecstatic oohs and aahs from the ones playing games can be heard intermittently. the annual school festival of redlands high, an event that is looked forward to by every single student there. or maybe not, you’re quite unsure of the self-made data.

you immediately made a beeline to the dance club booth which is managed by yangyang, the president also holding the title of your best friend. a cartoonish grin crept up on his face when he spots you walking towards him.

“so, what do you think? looks legit, huh?” he crossed his arms together, observing the design of the booth with a proud smile. the set-up is definitely eye-catching, not much decorations going on, adding to the simplicity of the white theme with gold touch-ups. you browsed through the plastered posters on the board, inviting people to sign up for their upcoming audition. looking up to the signboard hanging outside, you showed a thumbs up towards him, muttering a quick ‘perfect’.

“so what exactly is your booth doing? there’s not much… activity going on?” you scratched the non-existent itch on your left eyebrow. the boy in front of you gave you an eye roll before explaining that there will be mini dance games - or just dance as he worded. an amused sound left your lips as you bent down, dropping your signature in the guestbook on the wooden table.

“are you coming to the stage shows tonight? i heard there’s a new band performing,” your ears perked up instinctively upon hearing the words. after your sister graduated high school, nobody paid any attention to keep the band going. the zikas, a trio that made the music club strive back then. either the newer batches were too lazy to make an effort or too scared if they weren’t up to the already high standards of the school.

“i’m going if you’re going,” you simply stated, which made yangyang flash you the same grin from before. you said your simple goodbyes when people started lining up to try the just dance game at his booth. after he reminded you to wait for him by the statue, you went off to check out the food sales, eager to fill your growling stomach since this morning.

you can do this, sicheng. you can do this.

he made sure to double check the tuning of his guitar for one last time before joining the rest of his bandmates on the stage. his tall and slim physique surely left an impact, seeing that some of the audience suddenly became more invested in the performance compared to the others. he’s wearing some band’s shirt - probably green day since it’s quite similar to your sister’s posters in her room, black leather jacket and his black hair middle parted. not to miss the silver pendant necklace on his neck, sparkling under the spotlight.

the moment he struck the pick through the strings of his electric guitar, the drummer and bassist followed after, producing a melody that is pleasing to your ears. he held the microphone closer to his mouth, singing the lyrics as you bobbed your head up and down to the covers they sang - american idiot and helena are the ones you recognized since you’ve heard the songs so often. yangyang on the other hand kept on sipping the chocolate milkshake in his hand, vibing with the music as well.

the next song was a sentimental one which you assumed is a self-composed one, since you’ve never heard this song before. before you know it, the performance is over and the audience have started packing up their belongings to hang out somewhere else or go home.

“good job everyone, we did well,” yuta, who played the bass earlier, high-fived the rest of the band with a sly grin on his face. guanheng chugged the mineral water down his throat before stashing his drumsticks into the bag while sicheng was lost in his thoughts. he doesn’t know why but you stood out from the crowd, only able to see you just now. he wouldn’t say it’s a crush, not knowing anything about you but it definitely made him feel something. a trigger in his heart, not knowing where it leads to. but what he does know is that you caught his attention.

“and you know what he said? i’ll come back crawling to him just like his other exes. what the heck is even that?” you took out the binders from your locker while listening to ningning rant about her love life. since you haven’t had any relationships before, you’re not really a professional in this aspect of life so you just kept your mouth shut to avoid giving useless advice.

“that sounds so rude, he’s such a jerk,” you commented, taking the first bite of your sandwich afterwards. the tea-spilling session eventually came to an end when she reached her class first and you kept walking to mrs. walker’s, english being your first period. nothing exciting really happened in that class except someone got their phone confiscated for texting in class - just the usual things. classes later, it’s finally recess when you met up with ningning and yangyang in the cafeteria.

“first of all, cut him off. block him. everywhere,” yangyang emphasized the last word, knowing how much of an idiot the guy can be. you just scrolled through your socials, double tapping on certain posts that caught your eye. owning a cat looks fun, you made a mental note to bring the idea to your parents later. the bell rang which signals that classes are starting back soon and the same cycle of events continues before it’s time to go home.

you observed yangyang’s sharp moves, following to the beat of the song echoing in the dance room. it’s currently half past seven and he’s still here, beads of sweat running through his hair. and why would he stay in school so late, you may ask? obviously, he’s here for a reason and it being an upcoming dance tournament is the most accurate one. while you’re here, sitting on the floor, back against the mirror and legs straightened out with your phone in your hand. it amazes you how the goofy boy transforms 360°, being all serious when he’s in his element.

“let’s go home, i’m tired already,” he panted out breathlessly, using a cloth nearby to wipe his sweaty forehead. you wait for him by the glass door as he packs up his things when the lights in the music studio also switched off. you wondered it must be the band guys so you paid no attention whatsoever. of course, your predictions were right when you saw two lads stepping out.

since yangyang is taking too much time tidying up the dance studio and the music studio seems unoccupied, you decided to check it out for a bit. it’s been a long time since you last entered the room, always accompanying your sister for her extra practice when you were younger. not much has changed, except some additions of instruments can be seen. not seeing anything in the dark condition as the room is only illuminated by the faint lights from the hallway, you pushed the switches down only to be met by a gasp.

“what are you doing here?” the tall boy approached you, a stern look visible on his fine features. your eyes scrambled around the room in an attempt to find any logical excuses for your ‘break-in’ but to no avail. your tongue was dry, not a sound escaping your throat when you heard yangyang’s voice, signalling your cue to exit the room and escape from the tension building between you and the boy. he just shook his head, the black hair bouncing left to right as he finally caught on.

it’s you, you’re the girl from the crowd. and your name is y/n.

the walk home was filled with one-sided conversations where yangyang kept on babbling about how he should improve the choreography he created earlier while you only added small comments. your mind is filled with embarrassment, too much that you feel slightly mad at yourself. why didn’t you say anything earlier? now, you look like a complete idiot with communication issues in front of that boy.

“yeah, and remember that pasta? we should definitely try it again, it’s like, so good,” yangyang said, earning a nod from you when you saw the boy from last night’s music studio tragedy approaching your table. you tried to look away but it was too late.

“dude, just wanna let you know that mr. park is seeing us after school,” your grip on your fork loosens up when you realized he wasn’t talking to you. maybe he forgot about the incident? you really hope so.

“yeah, totally. thanks sicheng,” yangyang playfully winked at the latter, earning a disgusted look from him who started walking away. he glanced back at you with a smug smile on his plump lips, making you freeze up again.

he didn’t.

“are you okay, y/n? feeling sick?” ningning furrowed her eyebrows upon seeing your sudden change of demeanor. you shrugged her off and continued to consume the macaroni placed on the tray in front of you, mentally cursing at yourself for the poor life choice you’d made. well, at least you know that his name is sicheng, right?

oh boy, you’re in for a long ride.

you can’t wait to go home and snuggle under the covers, today has been a long and tiring one for you. you had three pop quizzes as if all the three teachers intended so, your class had to run multiple laps during p.e. and so on. you’re already planning your routine in your head, trudging your way to the lockers when you saw him leaning against yours, scrolling down his phone.

“crap,” you muttered under your breath.

there it is, the smirk on his face returns when he spots your figure approaching. oh, how you wish you could wipe it off his face. he moved a couple steps backwards to give you some space to arrange your things before locking it, turning your head towards him.

“i’m sorry, why are you here again? and if it’s because of last night, then i’m sorry if it bothered you or anything,” you huffed out.

“what? i didn’t really care, it’s not like you were stealing anything, right?” he squinted his eyes, eyeing you up and down suspiciously, laughing shortly after seeing you get riled up.

“damn, you really need to learn how to take a joke. y/n, right? i’m sicheng, nice to meet you.”

“why exactly are we having this meet-and-greet or whatever this introduction is?” you crossed your arms, waiting for his response. but he didn’t, immediately turning on his heels and making his way towards the stairs, probably going to the studio.

“jerk,” you cursed under your breath, walking out the school building.

“what? you got accepted? seriously?” ningning’s voice echoed against the cafeteria walls, earning surprised and annoyed glances from other students who were either satisfying their grumbling stomach or simply having conversations. yangyang softly nudged her elbows using his, asking her to lower her voice down before telling you to go on. you were quite surprised as well, the acceptance email was not what you expected to receive. when you filled in the application form, it was just a mere shoot-your-shot agenda to see if you’d make the cut. although this is just a camp, you’re still unsure of what lies ahead.

“yeah, it starts next week. but i’m so nervous though,” you sipped the iced coffee in your hands. you’ve only watched videos of people producing their own music from scratch which you start to take an interest in. however, you’ve never done it hands-on before, only having basic music theory knowledge thanks to the piano lessons your parents signed you up for when you were young.

“you’ll do awesome, i promise,” yangyang gave you a reassuring smile, making you release some tension from the overthinking you’ve had since you received the email last night.

“thanks yang.”

now, here you are on the first day of attending the internship camp. you stood in front of the tall mirror hanging on the wall, straightening your cardigan and applying some makeup onto your face as touch-ups. it’s currently 7:40 in the morning, the earliest time you’ve ever woken up on a saturday. your siblings are still swallowed in their states of sleep. you double-checked the contents in your tote bag, making sure that no important things are left behind. you totally don’t intend on leaving a bad first impression on your first day.

after bidding a swift goodbye to your parents who just woke up, you drove your mother’s old honda to the completely new destination - mbyte studios. the tall building with light grey and blue painted walls definitely made it stand out, a futuristic look catching the eyes of the passersby. taking a deep breath, you entered the main lobby before being escorted to a room on the second floor. you assume it’s a waiting room for all participants of the camp, scanning that majority of the occupiers might be college students. you thanked god that the camp takes place on weekends so your high school senior life won’t be interrupted that much.

DAY 1

your eyes widened when you spot sicheng with the same white and blue tag you’re wearing, seated on the sofa. what the hell is he doing here? you avoided acknowledging his presence, trying to make yourself as unnoticed as possible heading over to occupy the seat farthest from his. after quite some time staring at the paintings hanging on the wall, a middle-aged lady with a petite figure entered the room, making you sit up straight.

“welcome to mbyte studios! i’m the assistant director, mrs. hwang. first and foremost, congratulations on being accepted. it’ a pleasure to witness the start of your musical journey embarking here. i believe that we should know each other first?” she gestured for any volunteers. sicheng stood up from his seat, charisma evident in his stance which left quite an impression on the others. the strong confidence in the way he speaks made the woman smile amusingly.

some names later, it was your turn to introduce yourself. the moment you stood up, he immediately recognized you and you were sure you caught him making some faces. the ice-breaking session went well thankfully, mrs. hwang elaborating on the social rules and the itinerary throughout the whole six days. one that caught your attention was assisting the producers on making a track from scratch, just like you had dreamed of.

when it was finally time for lunch break, you shot up from your seat to get away from sicheng as fast as possible but to your dismay, he beat you to it, jogging up towards your standing position.

“i didn’t know you were into music, what’s the sudden occasion?”

“it’s none of your business actually,” you sneered back, obviously not favouring his attention.

“woah, relax. you’ve got quite a temper, don’t you? by the way, we’re having lunch together,” he placed his phone onto a nearby table, pulling a chair for you.

“just eat on your own, i don’t have the appetite,” you flash a sarcastic grin before disappearing into the women’s restroom. he just laughed bitterly at your response before walking towards the food counter, joining his newly made friend, jaehyun. being the same age, they’re easy to click.

DAY 2

“today, we’ll be focusing on the recording process. you’ll be assigned into groups that will have a tour of the whole department. our staff will facilitate each group,” the manager said loud and clear. you remembered his name was johnny. the tattoo on his shoulder really stands out, considering the fact that he’s always wearing a sleeveless shirt.

but what are the odds when your groupmate is none other than the guy himself, sicheng. it’s like the universe truly resented you for having to be associated with him at any event. your group was escorted to the farthest recording studio on the floor. to say that this was a great experience is truly an understatement, making you observe the gears used in astonishment. you hate to admit it but sicheng has a handful of knowledge on this particular topic, always correctly answering the questions directed by the staff. maybe it wasn’t quite surprising upon knowing that his career choice is a singer, not that you care anyways.

again, nothing out of the ordinary happened today, except that you and sicheng had lunch on the same table. of course, it’s not that you accepted his offer but he welcomed himself to the spot. being the quickly favoured participant among the rest, obviously they welcomed him with open hands. he placed himself among the two guys sitting at the right corner, eyeing you whose eyes are still not leaving the article you were skimming through. with the last spoon of food shoved into your mouth, you quietly excused yourself from the group. sicheng just watched your movements in subtle signs of annoyance.

with the final task of doing microphone check-ups, day two of the camp ended with a breeze. you can’t wait to go home, get into a warm bath and spend the night watching netflix. it was a tiring one indeed but you’re not one to complain. pushing the car keys into the ignition slot, the sound of the engine starting is still nowhere to be heard even after a couple of retries. you rested your forehead onto the steering wheel, cursing silently in your head, having to get a taxi and call your mother about this incident. you’re sure to be receiving a handful from her, not to mention her soft but stingful remarks.

“hey, are you okay?” a deep voice interrupts your stressful state of mind. looking up, it’s sicheng with a concerned look on display. you hesitantly shared your problem, making him press his lips together probably thinking of a solution.

“you know, i don’t really know how to fix your broken engine or whatever but i know someone who can. let me just ring him for a sec. and you’re coming home with me.”

and that’s how you ended up in the front passenger seat, sicheng steering with one hand and the other rested on the windowsill. the faint music from the radio can be heard, probably a song by jon vinyl. you’d steal quick glances to see his other hand dancing in the air, enjoying the rhythm of the song playing. besides that, it was silent as both of you are preoccupied with your own things - sicheng on the road while you on your phone. he tried to make small talk but you would say it’s unrequited, only replying with short sentences. after a good ten minutes drive, the sight of your brown painted gate becomes a sign for him to stop the moving car.

“your car is safe with my friend so you shouldn’t worry about it or anything. also, what’s your number? it’ll be easier for, you know the car business of course,” he reached over to unbuckle your seatbelt, handing over his phone to you after. the close proximity made your breath hitch, the dewy scent of his perfume diffusing into your nose. not too strong, he has a good taste.

“thanks and um, i’ll buy you a drink later. just for today.”

“are you asking me on a date?” there it is, the significant tug on the side of his lips making its presence once again.

“stop being so narcissistic and move along please,” you rolled your eyes before giving him a small wave, stepping into your property. sicheng stared at the numerals on his phone screen, a small, proud grin etched on before driving off the lane.

“how was the camp? met any cute boys?” the first thing you hear in the hue of the blue monday morning is ningning’s chirpy voice. sometimes you wonder how she gets all boosted up at this hour of the day. yangyang is the polar opposite, his appearance as if he just got out of bed, the hood of his denim jacket resting on top of his auburn hair.

“it was good and no, no cute boys. but sicheng was there,” you replied nonchalantly, a mischievous grin crept onto her lips. you can almost predict the words that are going to spill out of her mouth.

“what’s up with her?” yangyang yawned, his eyes lazily gaze at you. you just lifted your shoulders, having no idea whatsoever. a ping sound was heard from your phone, notifying that a new message is received.

unknown: hey sicheng here

unknown: ur car may be ready tmr. want me to drive u there?

listening to your heart, you were about to type ‘no’ but remembering the fact that your parents will be busy the whole day tomorrow and yangyang is coming home late once again, you have no choice but to accept the lad’s help.

now you’re back in his vehicle, the same spot as before. you’ve only noticed now that a musical note charm is hung on the rearview mirror, a semiquaver to be exact. you’d say that it looks authentic, gold specks shining when sun rays hit the surface. observing the interior of his car, there are quite a number of small decorations.

“can we get coffee first? my treat for the car and the ride,” you suggested, looking at him whose eyes are focused onto the road. the traffic is quite pleasing today, nobody honking mindlessly at the other drivers and flipping each other off with the famous middle finger gesture. his side profile does look charming, some type of earrings dangling from his ears. if you’re going to be honest, his appearance does seem to be your type. you’re not one to say about his persona though, always managing to bother you at any time of the day.

“sure, wanna go to the new cafe? i heard it’s good,”. you just nodded while he skillfully steered the steering wheel, moving the car to the new destination. you turned your eyes to look outside from the car window, seeing the one hundred and one manners of the citizens. a mother struggling to take her child who’s having a tantrum out of the toy shop, a young couple having their romantic meal in the french cafe. the motion of the car stopping awakened you who was being distracted by your clouded mind.

from the moment you stepped into the place, the interior caught your attention. the light brown painted walls with black furniture complementing each other perfectly, making a retro-like appearance. the funky song playing faintly in the background surely is a mood-setter, just how you like it. even the barista serving you is being friendly, making a couple of small talk in the midst of operating the machines.

you would say that it was a pleasureful day for you. the exquisite taste of latte washing down your dry throat, getting your car back without too much babbling from your dear mother and the gap between you and sicheng closing in for a little.

the last sentence baffled you for a second.

DAY 3

sicheng’s eyes shot open from the short slumber he was trying to get - failing miserably even, upon spotting you enter through the door. he pulled the chair beside him in hopes for you to get his message and take the seat. a frown made its way onto his face when you just waved at him, making your way to another spot a few chairs to the front. he scoffed, head tilting slightly before approaching you instead. you shot him a puzzled look, roughly translating to ask him what he’s doing here.

“i just want to be close to you. now focus,” he redirected his eyes onto the muscular man who just entered the room. he’s a songwriter - the best one in this company to be exact. you were focused on each point he explained, making small notes on your laptop. it’s not always that you’ll get a chance to be guided by a four-time award winning songwriter, might as well gain some benefits from it.

“another tip i have is to use all types of chords. remember, do not stick to the same ones, you’ll lack creativity. for instance, use major, minor, dominant, diminished, and augmented. i promise you, more ideas will be flowing and better quality songs will be produced. you got me?” the questioned, earning buzzing sounds of positive responses from the hall.

DAY 4

another day of group work, you’re given the task to create a melody according to the themes given - for your group, it’s love. looking at sicheng, he’s already on his electric guitar, strumming mindlessly to find the perfect note to start on. the rest of you are now juicing out some thoughts on this particular sense of human nature.

“love gives us thrill, the feeling of excitement, the feeling when you’re uncertain about something but when you have that special someone with you, you’re sure to wing it all,” jaehyun suggests, earning nods of approval from the rest of your groupmates.

“you’re a pro at this, mr. romantic,” you teased him, earning a soft chuckle. a dimpled smile is etched onto his features, rosy cheeks and his eye smile making you fawn. prince-like visual and a sense of humour? a two in one package, totally.

“not really. i guess i’m a sucker for romance movies,” he rubbed the back of his neck. your small conversation came to a halt when you heard a crooked, loud sound coming from the rough strum on the guitar strings. you turned around to see sicheng gazing directly towards the both of you, a sharp one even. jaehyun just blinked his eyes before catching onto the situation unfolding in front of him while you’re still being completely oblivious. you tilted your head in confusion, unsure of what’s gotten into him.

it’s the day that yangyang has been looking forward to since the past few weeks, his dance tournament. you’re seated with ningning on the bleachers, music from the loudspeakers echoing through the walls. with the cheers of the bewatchers whenever someone captivated them with a trick or dance move, usually the risky ones, it truly is a loud atmosphere.

“now, welcoming contestant number 43 to take the stage,” the host announced, you and ningning clapped with all your might, shouting words of encouragement as well. yangyang took a deep breath before lifting his right hand up, cueing for the music to start playing. just then, there’s the sound of someone plopping down on the hard surface next to you - sicheng. he’s looking casual today, a light yellow hoodie replacing his usual dark clothings.

“what are you doing here?” you shout whispered while ningning raised her eyebrows at you.

“didn’t yangyang tell you? i’m here to watch him dance,” he countered your question before darting his eyes back to the boy who’s busy popping on the dance floor, tinashe’s song playing in the background. he ended his routine with a moonwalk, making his way to the end of the stage. you’re confident that he’s going to win the competition, looking at how precise and clean his moves were. all the late night practices he had eventually paid off when he’s announced as the second placer. nonetheless, he’s still proud of himself, not to mention you and ningning who have been with him throughout his whole journey.

“you did well,” sicheng welcomed him with a fist bump which he reciprocated back. you didn’t know that they were this good of friends.

“i’m starving,” he rubbed his hand onto his stomach, making you remember that your stomach has been rumbling since you only ate a cereal bar that morning. you were about to catch up to yangyang and ningning who were walking fast ahead when you felt a tug on your shirt, looking down to see sicheng crouching down to tie your loose shoelaces.

“you might fall,” he placed his hands into the pockets of his hoodies, waiting for you to come along.

“um, thanks,” you muttered out before catching the glances given by your friends, later teasing you about the scene.

roars of students can be heard coherently, filling the basketball court. the basketball captain, a tall one with black charcoal hair is shooting a three-pointer. the players are then called over to their respective sides for whatever strategy their coaches will be implementing in the third-quarter. the home team is currently leading by five points, knowing that the players wearing the significant red and black jersey have been training their asses off for a while now.

but why exactly did you come to the game tonight? besides from the main event happening in the moment, the other reason is now standing in his position, strumming his electric guitar producing a funky sound that vibrates through the walls - a cue for the start of another buzzing stage. sicheng has been bugging you about watching him perform tonight and after quite some time evaluating, why not? when he finally caught you among the crowd, he flashed you a flirtatious wink. right before the band bowed as gratitude to the audience, he gave you a gesture to wait for him at the back of the gym.

“you came! but seriously, thank you,” he rested the sparkly white guitar against the wall, enveloping you into a hug. this is new, you tried to hide the flustered state of yours as you reciprocated his movement. from the corner of your eyes, you can see a black-haired guy approaching the two of you, followed by one with long, white hair and a bandana nicely keeping the fluffy strands in tact.

“ooh, who’s this?” the first one wiggled his eyebrows, later introducing himself as guanheng, the latter named yuta. to your surprise, the bond between you and them are quick to form with guanheng piloting the conversation. not to mention his subtle jokes making you giggle at times.

“well y/n, your little boyfriend here is getting jealous so we’ll excuse ourselves for now. see you whenever,” guanheng banging his drumsticks into the air while yuta gave you a quick wave before disappearing into the store room of the gymnasium. the nickname they gave sicheng surely made you a bit shy.

boyfriend?

DAY 5

you’re seated in front of the computer screen, your chin resting on the palm of your hands and the tabs of different colours left untouched. you redirected your gaze onto the projector screen, the words ‘arrange, mix, edit and master like a pro’ on it. a long sigh leaving your lips, you try to remember what the producer said earlier.

don’t make the song sound too repetitive

a good buildup promises a good melody

you can have a certain instrument playing only on one part for cinematic impact

DAY 6

“i’m hyo and you’re,” she moved the wheels of her chair to the back a bit to take another look at the clipboard resting on the desk, “sicheng, y/n and jaehyun, right?” the three of you nodded in harmony, anticipating for the next order that will be given.

“okay cool, we’ll be brainstorming first,” and she proceeded to explain what the requirements for this project are. you mouthed out the important points she gave, soft rock, heartbreak and drums. you’re on a roll today, contributing your countless ideas during the first few minutes of the discussion. sicheng just looked at you discussing with hyo, your lips pursed slightly. his gaze seems full of adoration, even jaehyun said so.

“any objections?” hyo looked over to the rest.

“i think she made some great ones. i’m sure this project will come out fresh,” jaehyun voiced out his opinions, sicheng nodding after. he went straight to handling the instruments , you and jaehyun collaborating for the mixing process. hyo eventually chimed in on some times, giving small advice whenever you seem stuck in the brain. with the hours ticking by, you’re feeling more satisfied than ever with your earphones in, listening to the final product created.

all of the participants are then assembled in the hall again, waiting for a final speech by the director which formalizes the end of the camp. sure, you’ve earned worthy knowledge throughout the six days. but if you’re being brutally true to the sound of your heart, it would be how you came to learn sicheng’s true antics. he might be the cocky guy who thinks they have the power to do anything but in truth, he’s just some guy with an honest heart, honest intentions to know you better.

summer break, your most anticipated event for the past few weeks. the moment the last bell rang, that scene in high school musical 2 kept replaying in the back of your head, the students doing a parade in front of the lockers picturing how your little heart is doing backflips in your chest right now. all the beach trips ningning planned is making you feel dizzy. you turned around to a voice calling out your name from the end of the hallway, your eyes catching the sight of sicheng jogging towards your spot. he stopped in front of you, hands on his knees catching his breath.

“are you free tomorrow night? there’s a party at guanheng’s and you know, it would be really cool if you join,” his fingers tracing onto each other, waiting patiently for your response.

you didn’t even have the time to process his invitation when ningning crashed her body against yours, yangyang following suit.

“a party? y/n would totally love to come, right?” ningning nudged your arms softly while yangyang tried to stifle a giggle. you were about to mouth out a ‘what?’ before sicheng cut you off.

“cool, you guys should come too. tomorrow at 10,” he and yangyang exchanged finger guns gestures before leaving the three of you. you just stood there in disbelief, eyeing them up and down before ningning dragged you to the parking lot. a stringful of grumbles escaped your lips, making the guy laugh obnoxiously.

“i can’t believe you guys did that,” you extended the seat belt, buckling it to the slot beside you.

“please. but you do want it, right?” you can’t deny, what she said was true. plus, you should have some fun and distress before having to go back to the usual dull routine of yours.

“how do i look?” you turn around, revealing the baby pink crop top and flare pants on your legs. it’s not your best outfit but giving the cliche excuse - you have nothing to wear, the two articles totally complements each other

“you look hot, that’s all i gotta say. right, yang?” ningning lifted her head from the headboard, glancing over at yangyang who’s going over his messages.

“yeah totally,” he lifted his hands, giving you a thumbs up. you threw a jacket onto your shoulders and grabbed the black purse on your dresser, glancing at the wall mirror one last time.

from the moment you stepped into the venue - guanheng’s place, smells of alcohol lingered around your nose, a group of people cheering ever so loudly over a game of beer pong, some already passed out on the couch. not to mention a brownish stain on the carpet - probably from someone throwing up. the mess would take a whole day to get rid off, you note to yourself. your friends are no longer to be found, both of them getting affiliated with god knows what. your eyes scanned the living room for sicheng but his presence is still nowhere to be found.

you decided to step towards the kitchen bar, pouring a drink for yourself. the mixed sweet and sour taste of it remained on your tongue for a couple of seconds. looking over at the snacks served, you grabbed a strawberry flavoured lollipop from the clear bowl. the crowd is cheering loudly for some type of incident happening at the back of the room, the music has been turned up to be a little louder than the volume before and you’re suddenly getting a little bit overwhelmed. you grabbed your purse and stepped out, inhaling some fresh air and looking up to the starry night sky.

“y/n? where have you been?” sicheng approached you from behind, making you a bit startled.

“sorry, hanging out outside can calm me. where did you go?” you popped the lollipop into your mouth.

“some jerk decided to throw up in front of me,” you pinched your nose with a disgusted expression, making him roll his eyes.

“do you want me to accompany you out here?” he offered. you just nod your head, placing yourself on the patio with him following suit. the sweetening flavour empowering your senses. it’s definitely much more calm out here, allowing you to clear up your mind. it’s not that you hate the atmosphere in the house right now, you’re just not in the mood.

“you know, you look pretty,” you turned around to meet his face. his brown eyes brimming with unconfessed love.

“shut up, stop with the jokes,” you lightly land a smack on his arms.

“what if i say i’m not joking?” he looked straight into your eyes, trying to find any emotion inside you. the sudden seriousness is making you feel much more awkward so you forced out a laugh, turning your attention right back upwards. the stars are shining brightly tonight, you can almost spot a constellation.

“i know what you’re doing, dong sicheng. just stop it already, it’s not working on me.” denial, that’s what you’re experiencing in the hot minute.

a gentle tug can be felt on your wrist, his eyes still not leaving yours.

“didn’t anyone tell you before? you’re really pretty. like, i can’t even describe it to you. you’re just,” he leaned over to caress your cheeks, “pretty,”.

what jaehyun said on the other day is true, after all.

love gives us thrill, the feeling of excitement, the feeling when you’re uncertain about something but when you have that special someone with you, you’re sure to wing it all.

your heart is beating so fast, it could fall out of your chest at any moment now. even the faint music blasting through the speakers inside the house can’t flush down the sound of your heartbeat. you’re not used to this, the sudden need of the significant skin to skin contact that symbolizes love between two individuals.

“can i?” his face in a very near proximity from yours, whispering into your right ear with his honey-like voice. you pulled the candy away from your mouth and nod, giving him the approval he needed before he dived in. heat rose from your stomach to your chest. you could only focus on how soft his crimson lips felt on yours, invading your privacy by all senses. you felt the kiss expand beyond your bodies, whirling you round, swirling you into the stars. he pulled away with a soft smile, you thought you could melt right then and there.

“wow,” that was the only word escaping your throat. your jumping heart still hasn’t settled down yet, your very first kiss still feeling surreal. you could see that sicheng is very much mirroring your emotions, his slender fingers grazing over his lips - the one that has come in contact with yours.

“the strawberry lollipop is sweet,” he commented, making the both of you laugh.

a ping from your phone awakened you from the gushy eye contact with him, unlocking it only to find yangyang’s text message. the second part of it made you fluster.

yang: yo r u coming in or what? and congrats for the kiss, we thought we’d have to wait longer for this

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

More than just a game

Warnings: dark elements including noncon and rape, oral, fingering, doxxing, stalking, and other explicit content. 

This is dark!Jake Jensen and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You find a new gaming buddy but he sees you as more than that.

Note: So this is my first Jake Jensen fic and it was lots of fun so let me know what you think and hope you enjoy. :D

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Special shout-out to @navybrat817​ for helping me with this idea

After too many nights scrolling through subreddits and searching for something to keep you distracted, you decided to bite the hook. Several other redditors agreed to hop on Minecraft and it had been a while since you logged in. You missed the almost relaxing ritual of mining and building.

You joined the chat, quick to hit the little microphone emblem as you listened to the voices in your headset. You learned long ago to keep your mic muted on the servers, especially with strangers. The last time you dared to speak up as a woman in a game chat, your DMs had become so overwhelmed you deleted and started a new account on Discord and changed your ID on Steam.

You were all given your tasks as players called out coordinates and you kept to chopping up the side of a mountain. You mostly worked alone, chatting through text instead of voice chat. As you placed a crafting table in your little mine, another player, JJ-Smooth, popped up and dropped some iron for you. 

He stayed close but you didn’t mind. A lot of players tried to work together the deeper they got and you were used to it. As you uncovered some lava, he dumped water before you could get burned and helped you hack up the obsidian. 

He thanked you on the voice chat but you knew any courtesy in return would earn you the attention of the entire server. So you dropped some gold for him and went on your way.

“I hear a zombie,” he warned.

You turned to hack up the undead before it could get you, only to be shot by a skeleton hidden on the next level. Another appeared and you died before you could hide, the bony villain killed by your ally as you watched your possession scatter over the death screen.

“Hey, I got your stuff,” he said as you loaded back up, “I’ll find you.”

You typed quickly in the chat, ‘sorry, mic busted, give me your coordinates and I’ll come to you.’

You waited as ‘JJ-Smooth is typing…’ appeared at the bottom and finally he sent the numbers. You hopped over the blocky hills and through the forests until you found the mine again. He was just outside and handed over all your tools and ration. He headed back into the mine and you followed him. This time, you began your own path in the opposite direction.

Before you knew it, you’d lost track of time. You sat back as you realised it was only you and JJ on the server. The silence should have tipped you off earlier. He was the host and you felt super awkward for staying so long. You typed that you were logging off for the night and thanked him. 

You hit the keyboard with your knuckle and yawned as you opened the screen, 

“God, it’s late,” you muttered.

“Hello?” he said.

Your eyes rounded as you looked at the mic symbol and the lack of red line made you cringe. You’d hit an extra button without noticing.

“Um, hi, sorry, I just--”

“Mic busted, huh?” he asked.

“No, I--” you didn’t know what to say, “anyways, I should--”

“So, you’re a chick? Is that why you mute?”

“Uh, well, it’s just… easier, sorry, I--” even if you weren’t trying to hide from gamer dudes, you weren’t the best at conversation.

“A gamer girl, nice,” he said and you sighed, “sorry, that sounded weird, didn’t it?”

“Mhmm,” you touched your bottom lip as you cupped your chin, “it’s late, I have to work tomorrow.”

“You comin’ back?” he asked, almost hopeful.

“I don’t know--”

“I won’t tell anyone,” he said abruptly, “promise, lips sealed.”

“I really don’t know if I can do this too much, I usually work early mornings so… yeah,” you said.

“I get it but you know you’re always welcome, hope you don’t mind if I send you an invite now and then. No pressure,” he offered.

“Uh, sure,” you shrugged, “okay, yeah, good night.”

You left the chat quickly and pulled off your headset. Shit.

‘I’m Jake by the way,’ a pm popped up, ‘gg.’

You typed back, ‘gg, it was fun’ and quickly logged out. You sat back and rubbed your eyes. Well, he didn’t seem like a total creep, maybe just a bit awkward but so were you. You shut down for the night and stretched out as you switched off the lamp. You were going to pay for your session in the morning.

🎮

A few nights later you got an invite to the server. You debated it but as it was Friday, you decided to make good use of the PC you’d saved up forever to build. You spawned in the middle of nowhere and built a bed before you found the half-finished settlement. You joined the chat but you must have been early as you were the only one there.

You headed back to the same mine, some work done since the first night, and laid your torches as you ventured into the depths. You jumped in your seat as a voice broke your peace.

“I don’t think anyone else is gonna join,” JJ-Smooth, or Jensen said, “you think maybe you’ll unmute?”

You stopped your mining and stared at the screen. You hovered over the mic button and re-read his name, he was the only other one there. You clicked and gave a strained smile to the screen.

“So, um, what’s the goal tonight?” you asked.

“Get some materials and go back to the settlement, keep building, oh, maybe we could try a portal, you ever gone to the nether?” he said but before you could reply he kept on, “shit, I shouldn’t assume, you seem like an experienced player.”

“Yeah, a few times, but I’m more a casual miner,” you went back to harvesting stone and ore.

“Ah,” he said, and it was silent for a moment, “so, you work again in the morning?”

“Not tomorrow,” you said as you focused on the game, “daycare isn’t open on the weekends.”

“A daycare, huh? That sounds fun, I love kids… not in a weird way but you know, I… urgh, I have a niece,” he said with a nervous chuckle, “nah, that’s cool though, sounds more fun than my gig.”

“Oh?” you turned and kept your axe moving.

“IT. You know, some people would be like ‘hey Jensen, why do you spend all your free time staring at a screen when that’s what you do at work?’” he scoffed, “well, who says I’m not mining there too.”

You wrinkled your forehead and gave a small laugh. He was rambling and it was kinda odd. You were happy for once not to be the strange one.

“But anyway,” he said, “I found lots of diamond over here. If we get some lapis lazuli we can build an enchanting table and get some sick armour.”

“Awesome,” you pressed your fingertips to your lip as you leaned on your elbow, “should try to head back before dark…”

“Hard to tell down here. How about you mine and I’ll keep an eye out for monsters?” he offered.

“Sure,” you agreed as he came onto your screen, “that works.”

🎮

Another week went by and you ventured back into the server a few times but not for very long as late nights did not mix with young children. The next weekend, you joined again on Saturday night and like the last few times it was just you and Jensen. You wondered why no one else was joining when the subreddit was so popular but you didn’t worry about it for long.

You mostly played in silence, Jensen did most of the talking and it was never about anything more than the game or his niece’s last soccer game. That night when you left the game, he kept typing on Discord.

‘I like playing with you,’ his message blipped up.

‘Same, thx.’

‘Really, you’re awesome.’

‘Thx :) Tired, gotta sleep.’

‘Sweet dreams.’

‘Night.’

You changed your status to offline and dragged yourself to bed. You opened your phone as you laid in the dark and went to the subreddit, you scrolled through the builds and screenshots of other people’s catastrophes. 

You came to Jensen’s last invite post from that night but all the comments complained that the world code was incorrect. Hmm, you should tell him next time.

You blackened your cell and plopped it on your night table. You rolled over and buried your face in the pillow, the light still etched into your vision. You fell asleep quickly and woke the next day to another invite from Jensen.

‘How about some Fortnite? If you’re into it?’

‘Srry, can’t, my mom’s expecting me for lunch.’

‘2 bad, maybe later.’

‘Maybe’.

You got ready to go see your mother for your usual Sunday afternoon visit and it went by like any other. When she asked you what you’d been up to, you didn’t mention the gaming, she was never a fan of it. When you got back home, Jensen was messaging you again. You didn’t open the notification and settled in to catch up on some streaming before another week of work.

Monday hit you like a train and you were glad you hadn’t spent the night mining again. If you had, you doubted you’d even be able to open your eyes. You got to the daycare centre and welcomed in the kids. You got them set up for the morning snack then cleaned up as Sandy took them over to the reading circle.

You wiped the tables and then did some painting before you went out for some play time in the yard. As you watched several of the children on the swings, you glanced around. There was a man across the street. You squinted through the chain link as he seemed to be watching but assured yourself it was nothing as he quickly headed for the corner and disappeared.

Inside, the kids were due for quiet time, some napped and those who didn’t, stared at the ceiling and yawned. You could have joined them but knew that wouldn’t be acceptable. The end of the day came and you helped the kids pack up their paintings and their sweaters. You waited in the yard with them as the parents showed up and handed them off one by one.

You waved to Danika as she clung to her mother and your eye was once more drawn beyond the chain link. The same faded grey jacket, the same glasses, and the hat with the frayed brim. It was a better look at the man. Was he looking at you? Why on earth was he hanging around outside a daycare?

“Sandy,” you turned and lowered your voice as she neared, “see that man?”

She peeked over and shrugged, “which one? The guy crossing the street?”

You looked up again and like before, he was walking away casually as if he hadn’t just been staring through the fence. You shook your head and huffed. “Sorry, never mind.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” she waved her fingers, “come on, let’s clean up.”

With the kids all sorted out, you went back in and tidied up the last of their mess. You and Sandy were friendly but like with any, you weren’t very talkative. You never really knew what to say but you were never unkind.

You pulled on your jacket and checked your purse for your phone and wallet. You checked the time and turned off the lights. You bid Sandy goodbye as she headed for her SUV and you took your usual route down the sidewalk towards your bus stop. 

You stopped short as the man was there. You were paranoid, he must just be waiting for the same route. You approached and he turned to watch you as you sat on the bench. He smiled and the dread sank deep in your chest. 

His rectangular glasses gave light to his blue eyes and a goatee trimmed his jaw. He was tall and well-built, you could tell even under his comic book tee. He was going to talk to you, another weirdo in the city.

“Hey,” his voice was chillingly familiar, “how was your day?”

You stared at him and blinked cluelessly. You looked around, it was only the two of you. You opened your mouth but you had to be wrong. He said your name and you winced.

“Jensen?” you breathed as you stood and squeezed the strap of your bag, “why? How--?”

“You weren’t answering me, I was worried,” he said, “just making sure you’re okay.”

“What the-- I don’t understand how--” He stepped closer and you backed up against the bench. “Don’t, I’ll scream.”

“Scream? Why? I’m just-- You know me, it’s me, Jensen.”

“You doxxed me?” you snapped, “what the hell?”

“No, I didn’t-- I’m just checking on you--”

“I don’t know you,” you said as your heart began to race, “so please, leave me alone,” you edged away from him, “and don’t message me again.”

You sprinted across the street and as you came up on the curb, you looked back at him. He watched you but didn’t follow. You could tell from there he wasn’t happy but the brim of his cap shadowed most of his face so you couldn’t guess if it was hurt or anger. You quickly spun away and continued down the next street to the nearest stop.

You couldn’t believe he’d just shown up like that. You couldn’t believe he would think that was okay. You couldn’t believe he’d think that much about you.

🎮

You blocked Jensen on Discord and left his world on Minecraft. That night you were shaky and nervous, afraid that he would show up at your apartment. Did he know where you lived? He must if he could figure out where you worked.

You didn’t open Steam that night. You paced your small apartment, jumping at every noise. Sleep didn’t come easily but in shallow spurts that left you even more tired. You watched over your shoulder as you walked to your stop and boarded with one eye on the door.

Work was little better as you found yourself distracted in the room full of toddlers. Sandy asked if you were okay as you kneaded play-do violently. You shook yourself out of your paranoia and assured her you were only short on sleep, not a complete lie.

You took out your phone when you stepped out for a small break. Your mom had called but you would have to get back to her when you had two hours to waste. There was another notification, that one from Discord, a friend request from JJ-NoRematch. It wasn’t hard to guess who it was and you declined it right away.

There were several others from Jensen, too. He followed your Insta, blocked; he followed your mostly empty twitter, blocked; and he even commented on your LinkedIn like a weird. You closed your phone and took a breath before you headed back into the kids, their voices rising in their excitement to go outside.

In the yard, you had another look around, expecting to see him there on the other side of the fence. You were slightly relieved when he wasn’t but still on edge. You joined a game of tag then watched several of the kids line up for the slide. You lost yourself in your job as you told yourself he must have gotten the hint, at least not to bother you irl.

Just like the day before, and every day, you left work and headed for your stop. He wasn’t there either and you sat down and phoned your mom, hanging up as the bus pulled up with a promise to call her again when you were home. At home, you felt almost normal again and checked your notifications; no more follows, no more requests, nothing.

Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday passed in a similar fashion. Each saw your anxieties less than the day before. You even resolved to open Steam and start a new world for yourself. You spent hours mining and almost fell asleep in your chair. When you nearly tipped over, you decided it was time for bed.

You slept better than you had all week and woke up before noon. You wanted to log right back on but you had life to deal with; groceries, cleaning, and of course, making that call to your mother you’d delayed the night before. After all that, you felt accomplished and you decided to treat yourself to take out, a rare divulgence.

You called the local Chinese eatery and waited eagerly for your feast as you turned on a new episode of your current binge. You played on your phone until the battery was low and had enough juice to buzz up the delivery man. You dug for your wallet as you went to the door and unlocked it without looking up.

“How much--” you asked as you opened the door.

Your eyes met a familiar pair, two blue gems behind a pair of narrow glasses. Jensen wore the same cap and held the paper bag of take-out with a smile. You grabbed the door and tried to swing it shut but he was too quick as he slapped a large hand against the peeling paint.

“It’s on me,” he said, “I love spare ribs.”

“What the--” you gasped as you pushed on the door helplessly, “please go away.”

“You’re not answering me,” he said as he stepped closer and forced you back as his body brushed against yours, “you blocked me and I can’t even get a hey, Jensen, how are you?”

“I don’t want you here,” you tried to shove him and he shouldered you away easily, “get out!”

He slammed the door and you flinched. He put the bag down on the corner table and reached back to twist the lock without a look. His eyes roved around your entryway and further into your apartment. He smiled as they stilled and focused on you.

“This place is cute… like you,” he said and you heard a slight hesitation in his voice.

You swallowed and backed away from him. You spun on your heel and ran for your couch. You reached over the back to your phone and unlocked it as the battery icon flashed. You had just enough juice to make the call. You dialed as you turned back to him.

“I’m calling the police so you b-better l-leave,” you warned as your voice and hands shook, “I me--”

He was quick and before you could pull away, he swiped your cell out of your hand. He scoffed and tossed it across the room. It hit the wall and landed screen down on the hardwood. You bit down and pressed yourself to the couch. You stared at him and kicked yourself forward as you tried to slip past him. He caught you and wrestled you back into the front room.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked calmly as you struggled in his grasp, “I’ve been nothing but nice to you.”

“N-no, you’re-- you-- let me go,” you stammered as he angled you around the couch. He pushed you down so you bounced on the cushion. You tried to push yourself up and he pointed his finger in your face and wagged it. 

“No, you stay,” he growled and wiped his other hand on his jeans. He was nervous, even if he was angry.

“Please, why-- what do you want?” you grasped the cushion and hovered at the edge of the couch.

He sighed and sat in the chair. He took his hat off and set it on the table as he ran his fingers through his short hair. 

“Good question,” he said as his jaw squared and his eyes turned to pinpoints, “better one, why did you block me?”

“Are you serious? You-- you--” you struggled to get your words out, your voice even more splintered by your fear, “you doxxed me, you came to-- to my work-- and…”

“I thought we were getting along. I thought you liked me,” he said with a frown, “I really did, you sure acted like it and-- I only wanted to make sure you were safe.”

“But why wouldn’t I be? I--” you shivered and crossed your arms as you withered beneath his gaze, “Jensen, this was only supposed to be online.”

He scoffed and stomped his boot on the floor. He shook his head as he looked to the ceiling and his anger bulged along his temple. He tilted his head and looked at you again.

“You know, for years, I have been a nice guy, I am a nice guy,” he pushed his shoulders to his ears as he threw his hand out, “I’m so patient and caring and you girls, you don’t even give me a second look.”

“Jensen--”

“No, really, I mean look at you, you’re no supermodel and yet it’s the same thing, ‘let’s just be friends’,” he spat, “but I watch guys all the time treat women like shit and they don’t have any trouble at all, they got them hanging off of them and I’m a creep for giving them a compliment or opening the door--”

“I don’t… know you,” you eked out, “you have to understand--”

“I don’t understand,” he stood abruptly, “I’m done trying to understand.”

He pulled his jacket open and slid it down his arms. You watched him sling it over the chair and as he turned back to you, you stood. He caught your shoulders and held you in place. His strength was plain in his grip as he squeezed then slowly moved his hands to cradle your face.

“I just wanna be nice,” he said as he leaned in. You tried to pull away but he moved a hand around the back of your head and forced your lips against his. He poked his tongue inside your mouth roughly as you tried to shove him away. Finally, he parted, his hands still firmly around your head, “wasn’t that nice?”

“Please,” you begged as he ran his thumb over your bottom lip.

His eyes searched your face as you stared back at him in terror. He sighed and dropped his hands back to your shoulders. He pushed you down to the sofa harshly and backed away.

“Fine, I won’t be nice,” he snarled as he took his glasses off and folded them carefully. He put them on the table beside his cap and twined his fingers together, loudly cracking his knuckles.

You blinked at him as your eyes grew glossy. You brought your legs up under you and pressed yourself to the back of the couch. You grasped the upholstery and turned as you launched yourself over to the other side. You stumbled as you landed on your feet and ran for the door.

You were yanked back as he snaked his arms around you and took you off your feet. You kicked out and screamed but it was cut off by his palm as he kept one arm around your middle. You scratched at his hand as he dragged you back to the couch. He pushed you face down onto the cushions and planted his knee in the middle of your back, slipping his hand away as he put enough weight on you to keep your voice suffocated.

“Listen, I know I look like some IT nerd but I’m a lot more than that, now don’t make me hurt you,” he played with your hair as he smiled down at you, “you try that again and I will shut you up and if someone hears you, I can take care of them too.”

You sniffed as tears pricked in your eyes and nodded frantically as it felt as if he would snap your spine. He pushed off of you and you stayed as you were, paralysed with fear. He sat and unlaced his boots one at a time. He looked up as he set them neatly beside the foot of the chair and he bent to catch your eye.

“Well?” he pointed at you and traced the line of your body in the air, “let’s go.”

You stared at him dumbly and he stood to pull his tee over his head. His torso was sculpted perfectly and his chest trimmed with hair that trailed all the way down to his pants. He stepped forward and tugged at the back of your shirt.

“You want me to do it for you, baby?” he purred, “I can help you.”

You swatted him away and sat up. You bent your legs to your chest and hugged them. “Please, I’m scared, just leave me alone--”

His hand rested on his belt and exhaled again. His fingers moved swiftly to unloop the striped belt and unbutton his jeans. He pushed them down, nearly tripping as he stepped out of them. He stood in his boxers, tented with his impatient excitement, and gripped his hips.

“It’s okay, baby, I know you’re shy, I am too,” he neared and you winced as he grabbed your wrist. He tugged on your arm and you resisted until he bent your hand back painfully and you cried out. He tickled your jaw as he looked you in the eye and tutted, “it doesn’t have to be like this, alright?”

You went limp and let him pull your arms apart. Your legs slipped down and your feet dangled above the floor. He got to his knees and pushed between yours. He slowly rolled up the hem of your shirt and bent to kiss your stomach as he bared the flesh. You trembled as he forced your arms up and swooped the fabric over your head. It fluttered through the air and to the floor as he cupped your tits through your bright pink bra.

“Is this so bad?” he asked as he nuzzled your chest and pushed your tits up. 

He glided the straps down your arm and slid your bra lower so that you popped out. He nibbled at your flesh and traced your nipples with his tongue. You sat rigid and let him explore your body, too terrified to move a muscle. He reached around you and struggled with the hooks, frustrated he snapped the clasps and the band came free.

He continued to play with your chest, his fingers crawling up and down your stomach and sides. There was a genuine curiosity to his touch and it sent a chill through you. His fingertips pressed to the top of your pants and he pulled at them as his lips travelled down to your hip.

He tugged on your pants and jerked your entire body. He tore them lower as he pushed you up and you lifted yourself to let him peel away the layer. He added them to the floor and toyed with the elastic of your panties. The little bow in the front drew his attention as he pushed your legs wider and ran his nose along the cotton.

He hummed and rubbed his fingers down your crotch, pushing the fabric to your folds as he teased you through them. You inhaled sharply at the tingle it inspired and he pressed firmer against you, flicking his fingers along your bud as he noticed how it made you squirm.

He gently pulled aside the cotton and you felt his hot breath against you. You pushed on his head before he could delve into you. “Please, don’t--”

“Shhhh,” he threw your hand away from his head and bent over you, “just relax.”

He dragged his tongue along your cunt and lingered around your clit. You clenched as it sent a thrill through you and he moved his lips against you, suckling at you bud as your breaths grew raspy. You pushed yourself against the back of the couch and dug your nails into the cushion.

He slid a finger along your cunt and circled your entrance. He rubbed up and down as he kept his tongue swirling over your clit and you swallowed back as gasp as he poked inside. He felt around and added another finger, stretching you as he carefully pushed them in and out of you in time with his mouth.

He lapped you up and you closed your eyes, desperate to resist the coil winding within you. Your legs tensed against the couch and you tilted your pelvis without thinking. He sped up, the noise of his mouth and your slickness filled the silence. You let out a puff and moaned as you slapped the couch. The waves rolled over your flesh and you came into his mouth with a pathetic mewl.

He stilled his fingers as he lazily teased you with his tongue. He pulled his fingers out and sat back, the heat between your legs cooling in his absence as he licked up your juices. He watched you as he sucked his fingers and stood. Your head lolled and you edged forward on the couch. You tried to stand but he caught you and flung you back.

“We’re not done, baby,” he winked at you as he grasped the top of his boxers, “go on, lay down.”

You murmured your refusal and once more tried to get up. You slipped onto the floor and shakily crawled away as he dropped his boxers to his ankle. He grabbed you before you could get around the side and lifted you easily. He turned you and shoved you down onto your back as he lifted a leg over you.

He straddled you and again his hands roved over your body. You smacked at his fingers weakly but he easily ignored you. He kept one hand moving along your curves as he stroked himself with the other. He groaned and shook as he stroked his dick. Your eyes followed his hand and you gulped, he was thick.

He moved his knees back and pushed them up beneath your thighs as he kept a hand planted on your chest. He ripped your panties down your legs and untangled them from your feet. 

He held you down as he ran his tip along your cunt, wetting himself with your coerced arousal. You groaned and grabbed the arm of the couch above you. You tried to pull away from him.

He pushed against your entrance and you looked at him in shock. You couldn’t stop him. His eyes were set between your legs as he inhaled and slowly eased into you. He gasped as he got his tip inside you and his muscles tensed. He bit his lip as he dove further in and you gasped as he filled you inch by inch.

“Shitttt,” he moaned as he reached his limit and you whined at how full you were, “oh, baby.”

His hand slid from your chest and he gripped your hips as he pulled back and thrust. You exclaimed and he did it again, slowly as he watched himself impale you over and over. You curled your fingers against the couch arm and your feet arch as you pressed your thighs around him. He lifted your pelvis high as he angled his dick even deeper.

“You feel so good,” he rasped, “oh, baby, you’re so good. Ahh-hh-hh,” his voice fizzled as your walls clenched him and you closed your eyes as you felt the heat building. 

He moved his hand along your thigh and stretched it over your pelvis, pushing his thumb to your clit as he kept his pace. He purred as you writhed helplessly against him and you panted through the rising ecstasy.

“Please, please, please…” you chanted, unsure if you were begging him to stop or for more.

He moaned as he sped up and you sucked your lip under your teeth as you neared your peak. You quivered as your orgasm crashed into you and you let out a strangled cry. He snarled and planted his hands beside your head as he leaned over you, his hot breath tickled your face as he pounded into you.

Your legs bent around him as his pelvis rubbed against you and the friction drove you to another climax. You held onto the arm of the couch as he fucked your harder and harder. He kissed you and nibbled at your lip as he groaned and hooked an arm under to hold you close.

“You’re gonna make me cum, baby,” he said against your cheek and you turned your head away from, “ah, here I--”

He spasmed and slammed into you. He took several long thrusts and stilled. He grunted and drew heavy breaths as he rested his weight over you. He grabbed your head and turned your head up as he pressed his forehead to yours. You kept your eyes closed as the flames slowly dwindled.

“Was that so bad?” he stroked your cheek and trailed his finger down to poke between your lips, “No, it’s what you wanted, isn’t it, baby?” he wiggled his hips and you hissed, “yeah, you want me.”

[dzpenumbra]

11/2/22

A lot of accomplishments today. It's a shame they don't feel like much. Welp, guess this is what my therapy is now, my self-work... not just diving deep into analyzing the deep end of life... actually making some tweaks to more everyday shit too. So I'm gonna try to really sing my own praises here. Because it's literally my homework. So bear with it if it sounds a little cocky or egotistical. It's depression treatment, boosting that ego a bit instead of constantly kicking it down, because I can trust my ego to be responsible and not let shit go to my head.

I got up late. I ate a yogurt and got in the shower. I am out of cereal, so despite having milk... my breakfast plans were a bit thrown off. yogurt was my backup and good thing because I have a ton and with granola it's not a bad breakfast at all. I didn't even make coffee though. My plan was to go to the store, get a Monster and something to eat, and head right to the skatepark. I was just chompin at the bit to get there today. I didn't even really have a plan, just work on nollies a bit or something.

I got the Monster and a sandwich, headed to the park and there were two guys around my age - one a bit older than me, the other a bit younger - and their kids, I assume, either that or the younger dude was a coach or an uncle or much older brother or something. It was cool, I didn't expect it to be... but it was chill. The kid with the younger dude was practicing back axle stalls on the mini quarter, he was trying to teach him and the kid got pretty close a few times.

The other father talked to me a bit. Asked me how long I've been around, I said like 25 years. Guess that caught him off-guard. Then asked what I do, probably because he's never seen me. I swear, it's always the second question. People don't even ask me my name anymore. Think about that, they want to know my profession before my name. I've met like 3 people since I've started going to the park regularly and not one of them know my name. I don't know when to volunteer it or ask theirs, I really struggle to feel the flow of conversations, and I fear disrupting them. The second damn question I'm asked like every time I meet people, "what do you do? where do you work?" It's a hard question for me to answer.

I don't make money. So... I just say I'm an artist. Then they ask what I make. This time I said clothing, because right this moment it's basically all I make. I am capable of making much more, but right now I make clothing. Being an artist is not always an easy thing to explain to people, often it feels like trying to explain a color to them that they've never seen before. "I'm making custom clothes, I made this hoodie." Yep, I was wearing the hoodie. It even had a white colored pencil outlines for the crow centerpiece on the right sleeve still clearly visible. The dude like, without missing a beat, went "oh yeah, what else do you make?" Like... didn't even look at the hoodie. And I also have a board with custom painted griptape too... Like... some people just don't engage with it. It's so weird to me.

Welp, after a bit of talking, I mentioned I'm making jewelry too and he fuckin lit up, so that was good! My diverse media served a really good use today. So I mentioned doing it by hand and sourcing local minerals and shit. He referred me to, I shit you not, the two spots that I have been sourcing stones and minerals. The river and an old smoky quartz vein in a national park that now has signs up everywhere saying the place is off limits because people fucking googled it and depleted the damn place. Like... fuck people. I snuck in pretty recently and grabbed a few scraps. I don't need much for a jewelry piece, even like an amulet centerpiece. They don't even have to be perfect crystals, I can just shape them now. But some people came in and tore the place up bigtime, debris everywhere, cave-ins, giant holes just dug out. And the spot is a big cliff, so... that could get super dangerous and do a number on the ecosystem if people are do that wrong one time. So I stopped going, even though my best pieces are from there.

The dude also recommended a dude not far from here that does car inspections - guess whose car is a month overdue for inspection... - and has a whole load of mineral collections that he's gotten from people who inherited them and shit. I don't know if he'd be down to like... donate some... I really doubt it... but I might be able to get a few choice pieces for a good deal, especially if he knew it was going to jewelry-making, to art. That they will be cherished and worn regularly (I hope), not just sitting in a box or in a garage. I got excited about that, I got the guy's name and I'm going to try to overcome my stupid social anxiety which is flaring up big-time in that general direction right now and just see if he'll set up an appointment within the next two weeks. I'd be more than glad to help his business, and I'd absolutely love to see what he has in his collection while he works on it. Much better than sitting awkwardly in a car dealership service department drawing in my sketchbook with headphones in. I'd much rather poke around in some weird old dude's garage and look at his collection of antique cars and inherited mineral display pieces and antique license plates and shit. That would be awesome! So if I can just shake this reflex that feels like I'm setting up a doctor's appointment... please... it would be really helpful. I hate that feeling, I'm so tired of it. I wish I could just pick up the phone and call, I used to. Pavlovian training is very powerful. But the more I practice just picking up the phone, doing it and seeing that it's absolutely fine? The more I get used to it, and the easier it will be to do it again. The worst thing that could happen is he could say he can't make an appointment. That's like... it. He might like... rip me off price-wise... it's possible. But whatever, he'll have to deal with the guilt of that if he's that kind of person.

So it was cool meeting someone new and getting a life and work connection. Me and that dude waxed nostalgic about skating in college, which was really chill. I just... have a different relationship to skating than him. I sought out getting back into skating, his kid got him back into it. He clearly had an accident and just stopped skating; kinda like me I guess, though mine wasn't a skating accident. He was probably skating home from a party late at night, drunk, and ate shit. From what he told me, it sounded like that's probably what happened. It's weird how people just... tell me stuff like that. I feel like that's not very normal, but it's been happening a lot lately. Like I'm a priest or something, and they're in confessional. I appreciate the gesture, it's a huge compliment. I was talking about how I missed skating on sidewalks, the sound of it, the feeling of it. I guess maybe it brought him back or something. But he got back into skating because of his kid, which is still awesome. They were both at around the same ability level, which is actually really cool. I wish they worked on tricks together, it seems like they were both just cruising, which is still cool.

I did my own thing, practiced some stall variations on the stair. Nosestall shove revert, that weird new nosestall-toehook-crook-revert, fakie nosestall shove nosestall revert. I'm really liking adding quick reverts to the ends of tricks now. I tried doing a few lines too. Like manualing the big bank up and down, looping around and then front 180ing off the other bank onto the flat. I did a really weird manual powerslide 180 into pivot 270 on a hip, which I still can't get that whole huge fakie pivot down right... but the manual powerslide (I guess, I do them a lot, I don't know what they're called) and a little revert back to regular is still cool and fun to do on a hip.

After a bit, they all left. I had the park to myself again. I did a few laps, practiced nose manuals and fakie manuals. Fakie manuals are weird as hell and I really want to get better at them. Lots of nose/nollie tricks today so my left thigh was really feelin it. By the end, I was just toodling around and started going to the mini-quarter and came close to accidentally doing a rock-to-fakie. I got a bit spooked. That trick scares me now, but it was a trick I actually had on lock for a very short period in my life. I never really had a mini-pipe to practice on... ever... so I never got transition tricks down really. I would probably be really good at transition if I just had access to a pipe that was less than fucking 8 feet tall. I have no clue why they didn't just add a full minipipe or minibowl to this new park, there are not a lot of skaters around this area that can skate the kind of shit they've been building. In my opinion, of course. If you want a new generation of skaters, you need some beginner shit too. Not all fucking 45 degree polejams and 8' half bowls and hip-height rails and shit. Throw in a really low manual pad with coping on all sides. Throw in low rails and shit. Make a damn minipipe is what I'm saying, okay?! Let the kids - and adults - learn.

So since I came close to accidentally going into rock-to-fakie, I said fuck it, I'm gonna try just getting into rock to fakie and see how it feels. It freaked me out a bit, but it felt somewhat doable. I started to just skate off somewhere else. I literally stopped myself, and went:

RATIONALITY - "No, nope, why are you just laughing this off, you really don't understand?! This is the trick you're working on right now"

ANXIETY: "But it's getting dark, the light is fading real quick, could be dangerous... what if I catch my trucks? It seems like it's me just begging to get hurt"

RATIONALITY - "okay, let's check then, because this is the trick you're working on. Let that sink in, dum-dum"

And I took my board and ran it along the coping, made contact with the kingpin barely for like a split second and immediately went straight to the wheels and rolled out. It was like... next to impossible to hang up trucks on that thing without just rolling right out of it.

RATIONALITY - "I can say with confidence that your chances of hanging up your trucks on this are like... 10% maximum. You can do this today."

ANXIETY - "But it's getting dark though..."

RATIONALITY - "Then you better get to it."

I gave it a few runs, I got into the rock no problem. Getting on the deck is easy, staying above it is easy too, it's almost easier to not pull your body above the deck and just sneak your board over, I guess. Definitely more stylish that way. But the second I started to roll back fakie I'd just jump off my board. Every time. Like a 50's suburban housewife seeing a mouse in the kitchen or something. It was frustrating me. Like... I practiced just rolling up, lifting my trucks and tapping them back down like 20 times, I had it fine every time. I did a few runs on the big quarter rolling out fakie to prove to myself that I can roll out of a quarter fakie just fine. But it was stuck in my head. It was like a reflex. When those didn't work, I was getting a bit desperate. I said fuck it, I'll just drop in then. I'll get used to how the quarter feels right at the beginning of the line. I'll feel the curve and the balance shift I'll need, because I'm very new to this quarterpipe and I'm not familiar with how it feels to skate it just yet. So I dropped in, pivoted on the bank across from it, then came back, gave a kick and went into rock, and pussed out on the rideaway, but the board made it back out this time no problem. It was getting very dark, but I got back up, I could feel it, I just need to stay on the board. It was working. So I'm pretty sure it was the second time that I dropped in with it, I came back and rock to fakie'd it no problem. And it was a really cool feeling trick. And I fucking like clapped and pumped my arms and went "Yes! Oh my god that's such a good feeling!" And I went back and did it again, for good measure. And I got it fine.

I love unlocking new tricks, or even re-unlocking old tricks. That's a trick I probably haven't done in like... 15 years? Maybe more? And when I did have it, it was like... only for like one session at an indoor park honestly. I'm a street skater, I don't see a lot of minipipes, so the opportunity to pull that trick out just didn't come up again. Until today. And it was cool!

So I went home. Polished some quartz and listened to Devin Townsend having tea with Elizabeth aka A Charismatic Voice. It's an exhausting process hand-sanding quartz, but it's coming along very nicely now. I don't know exactly how far I want to take the super clear quartz, but I'm eyeballing it and it's coming out really well right now, it's going to be a really cool piece, I think.

I made dinner and went into the studio to eat. I ordered Cubase. Finally. It took me like a year to do it. I ordered a DAW. I haven't had music recording capabilities since 2018. I don't want to pirate anymore, and I just didn't have the money available. I said fuck it and pulled the trigger on it. It was well worth it. It was a good decision, a hell of an investment. The things I can do with this are... I mean... I've barely even looked at the thing and I'm blown away at what's possible. I am now prepared for inspiration. I just need to get my drums hooked up properly to my VSTs, learn how to do that in a way that I understand and am comfortable with. I started playing around combining Taiko drums with African drums and different rural Eastern European percussion instruments that clack and jingle. I was programming all of it, and all I wanted to do was just play them on a drum, not program them by hand. And I just couldn't really figure out how to remap them...

I think once I figure that out I can make a cool process out of it. Where I just play a cool drum groove, even layer it and form like... a drum circle? Like... have you ever been in a music class or a workshop or something and they hand out all the percussion instruments and they teach you a pattern and then you all play the patterns together? That kinda deal. And I want to add bass and some atmospheric treble stuff to it and turn those into hip-hop beats.

I want super organic stuff. But made with digital instruments. Made digitally. Played on a MIDI drum kit. That's my goal. I want field recordings too, like nature sounds and shit. I'm very inspired, in case it's isn't noticeable. But I'm holding back because my... process is inhibited by a learning curve. With a new program, and new equipment, there can be a roadblock between what you could do and what you can do. And I currently can't do the drum thing with the VSTs I want. So once I unlock that, I will be able to do any drum VST with my kit, not just Kontakt-based ones. I don't think the VSTs I'm messing around with are made for drums, I think they're made for keyboard, just sayin.

So... I cracked the seal with music and it was great to be back. I saved my little pattern and transitioned into working on the hoodie. I started to see my creative anxieties more clearly there. They weren't so visible for me in the music medium, but when it came time to start blocking out dark and light areas on the crow? Out came a piece of sketch paper. I made a mockup and found the light source. I'll show a picture when it's done, but the piece is a crow's head and shoulder in front of a crescent moon, so it's going to be basically backlit. Crescent means that half of the crow is backlit and has a white highlight on it's edge, like a white outline behind it. But the back of the head and feathers overlapping the moon will be pure black. And I need glare on the eye to make it look 3D, so I'm kinda adding in a second light source, and it's helping a bit to not have the entire crow just be fully silhouetted. The sketch looked a little too basic at first... but then started to look better and better. I worked on it for a while, then said... this is dumb... just start inking. So I refreshed my white pencil sketch and said "fuck it". I inked the eye, then the crease in the beak, and the back of the neck. Then I just started going to town on it. And I got a big chunk of it done and it honestly looks really cool. I have no idea how the shading will work if I wash this thing, even if I iron it... but I was able to actually do some brush-like shading techniques and they were pretty visible... so... if that works, that means that my pencil-style shading techniques might actually work in this medium, which opens up a whole new world of opportunity. I really need to do test swatches for this shit!

But yeah, I got a good chunk done. And then I played Cult of the Lamb for a few hours to wind down. Because fuck it, it's a fun game, addictive too, and I felt like I earned a break. So... I don't know why I didn't carry a feeling of accomplishment to bed tonight. Depression, tbh, I know exactly why. Because I have no one to share that accomplishment with. It sucks. So... I'm sharing it here! That's something, right?

But I really do need to celebrate my victories, and not let the demons of others suppress my ability to enjoy life. I did a rock to fakie today, and I wasn't even going to try to learn it. I made good progress on a really cool jewelry piece. I have a DAW now, finally, so I can make music whenever I feel the urge. Finally. And I made good progress on my hoodie too. And I got that contact that could be good for both getting my car inspected and possibly getting some cool material for jewelry. Today was a big win! And I'm really proud of myself for my accomplishments today. Comparing this to like... sitting around watching Twitch and just feeling sorry for myself? This life is much better. XD

I'll try my best to get the car repair guy on the phone tomorrow. Hard to do when you go to bed at 7 AM... which is quickly approaching.

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Osborn’s 5✩ Inspiration: Sleepless Starry Sea [星海无眠] Date Translation (Prologue)

“So, are you covering my ears now because it's thundering in the exhibition hall?”

*Light and Night Master-list | Osborn’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *This 5✩ Inspiration has 5 Endings!! *Osborn’s tag will be #For Night, For Freedom *Requested by a friend, reblogs and likes appreciated! *This Date comes after this Event! Please read it first~

I've heard many stories about the ocean, but I've never actually gone and understood the ocean.

And now, as I mulled over my new design that had "the ocean" as the theme, Osborn had suggested bringing me to the Oceanarium.

❖☆———————————★❖

Standing in front of the long, winding corridors, it was only then that I realized… that the very ocean had been slowly unravelled before our very eyes.

Clear and bright blue light encased the entire area as huge fishes swam past overhead. Their scales glinted faintly in the light, reflecting a multitude of colour down below. And beneath our feet was the ocean, deeper, darker…

My footsteps faltered as an instinctive terror gripped me. For a moment, I didn't quite know what to do.

Osborn: Why aren't you walking?

MC: Oh… The corridor's too attractive, so I'm walking slower because I want to look at it longer.

The corners of his lips curved upwards as he headed towards me.

Osborn: Sorry, but I can't wait for you.

He then smoothly took my hand, balled into a fist from my nervousness, into his own.

He tugged gently, dragging me alongside him as we traversed the deep sea together.

MC: Thanks.

Osborn: Mm.

Then, I felt his long, slender, fingers slide between my fingers, domineering and powerfully intertwining our hands together.

Osborn: I much prefer this method of showing gratitude.

MC: …...

I gripped back, feeling the warm response from his palm.

❖☆———————————★❖

It was only after I passed the transparent corridor that my "leisurely stroll through the sea" really started.

My vision became brighter as colourful tropical fishes endlessly swirled around. It was almost as if we'd been pulled into a fantasy; of the wondrous Oceans in Fairytales

MC: The colour schemes of these tropical fish are really bold…

MC: Looks like I won't be going back empty-handed this time!

A faint smile played at the corner of his lips as he turned around to ruffle my hair.

Osborn: I hope the same goes for me too.

Before I could react, Osborn tugged me along, moving deeper into the depths of the oceanarium.

After a while, we strolled into a vast, open and bright area.

The ceiling in this area was inlaid with a huge transparent sheet of glass. The afternoon light shone in, spilling into the waters. There were a couple of huge fishes leisurely “lying” at the surface, basking in the rays of the sun.

MC: Fishes sun tan? But this one’s so huge and it looks really strange… What kind of fish is this?

Puzzled, I suddenly noticed the explanatory board that was partially obscured in the dark.

MC: Lemme see… this fish is called Hoo-

The words “Hoodwinker” came into view. I jolted, subconsciously letting go of Osborn’s hand as I darted in front of the explanation display board, physically blocking it.

MC: H-Headfish! This fish can play cat's cradle; can you believe it? Aha, it's really amazing!

Osborn raised his now empty hands, arched an eyebrow, and looked at me with a playful expression.

Osborn: It's pretty amazing, yes.

MC: Haha, there's nothing worth looking at here. How about we go somewhere else?

Osborn: Not gonna wait for this fish to do some cat's cradle thing for us?

MC: No need. What's so nice about watching a fish play cat's cradle? I'll do it for you next time if you want to see it that badly!

Brushing it off with a laugh, I pushed Osborn into another direction, unable to help feeling a little miffed.

MC: Why’s this fish called “Hoodwinker” of all things? Osborn has a competition tomorrow; that’s way too inauspicious!

In order to prevent Osborn from noticing anything amiss, I could only do one thing: Keep “self-sacrificing” till I divert his attention elsewhere… I purposely stepped on his shoelaces, telling him that fishes were flying above as I held onto the explanation display board, feigning dizziness.

My acting was clearly over the top and forced, but fortunately enough, Osborn didn’t seem all too interested in the “Headfish”, so everything proceeded smoothly enough.

We were just about to leave this area for good when a little boy suddenly exclaimed from behind.

Kid In Passing:  Mommy! This fish has such a weird name! Hood-

MC: Wait a minute-!

❖☆———————————★❖

A cacophony of alarm bells went off in my head! As quick as wildfire, I quickly rushed before Osborn,  jumped up, and tugged him downwards by the neck

Osborn was pulled down, his frame bent over mine in surprise as he was caught off-guard, my hands tightly pressed against his faintly red ears.

Osborn: …!?

It wasn’t till the little boy walked off with his mother that I slowly lightened up.

Osborn: You…

Raising my eyes, I collided with the depths of Osborn's clear and bright orbs.

He stared at me for a fleeting moment, his warm breath hitting the top of my nose, brushing against my cheeks in a ticklish manner.

I blushed, attempting to withdraw my hands that were still covering his ears, only for him to hold it firmly back down.

Osborn: So, are you covering my ears now because it's thundering in the exhibition hall?

❖☆———————————★❖

MC: Y-Yes! How smart!

MC: The equipment up in the broadcasting room collapsed earlier! It sounded way more terrifying than thunder, it frightened me...*Coughs*

The words came out in such a rush that I accidentally choked on them.

Osborn chuckled, helping me pat my back before taking out a bottle of mineral water, unscrewing it before handing it to me.

Osborn: Have a drink. No rush.

Osborn: Must be hard putting up an act the entire way through, no?

MC: ...Huh!?

As I looked at him in astonishment, Osborn held my shoulder and turned me to face the other side.

Osborn: Look.

I glanced in the direction he was pointing at.

There was a lazy hoodwinker basking leisurely in the sun in one of the glass tanks of the exhibition area.

MC: Oh! It's a Hood...

Osborn: Yeah. Hoodwinker.

Osborn: But you can always call it a “Sunfish” if you don’t like the name that’s been put onto the display board.

MC: You…

Osborn: D'you think I'm similar to that dumb-looking fish?

MC: Of course not!

Osborn: Then, what are you so panicky about?

Osborn raised his fingers and gently flicked them against my forehead.

Osborn: There's no need to let your thoughts run wild. The one standing here right next to you now is none other than Osborn himself.

Rubbing my head, I stared at his usual devilish smile in slight disbelief.

MC: You already knew what it was called?

Looking at the unfazed smile on his face, I then realized that all my blatant efforts to cover it up were all for nought, and that I must have looked exceedingly stupid in his eyes.

MC: If you already knew it, then why didn't you tell me?

Osborn: Because…

Osborn: Letting you be all considerate about me like that feels rather nice.

The magnetic and deliberately lowered tone of his voice graced my ears, and I could suddenly feel my heartbeat pick up.

Osborn: Shall we continue?

Osborn instantly took my hand into his again, and the previous embarrassment I felt melted away, giving way to the faintly growing sweetness that started to well up from the bottom of my heart.

Where do I want to go next?

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

✥ Choose your Ending:

END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]

END 2 + 3 | Choice: Approach [亲近] ⊹Touch⊹

END 4 | Choice: Listen [倾听] ❖ASMR

END 5 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ★Night★

❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Freedom⊹ —————★❖

[howlingsaturn]

cotton candy skies (and the sweetness of your love)

carlos finally sought out his parents and told them about his relationship with tk. it doesn’t go quite like he expected and so he finds tk immediately after. 

here we go lads, 2.8k of fluff coming right at you. i’ve wanted it to be mostly carlos centric but there is some tk pov in the beginning too. no trigger warning for this one but stay safe everyone. <3

ao3 link if you wanna say hi. 

a forever with you

wouldn't nearly be enough

to quench the flames

you continue to rekindle in me

It's been a couple of weeks since their fight and TK can tell that it still lies heavily on Carlos' mind. While TK feels like it has brought them closer together, he finds Carlos staring off into space more recently. Sometimes he would look at TK with a hint of guilt and shame in his eyes and TK would need to assure him that it's okay, they've moved past it. Carlos would nod and kiss him but the weight on his shoulders would not lift one bit. It's frustrating, TK wants nothing more than to ease the tension in his body and help him carry the weight, but TK promised Carlos he would be patient and he's fully intent on keeping his promise. 

It comes as a bit of a surprise to him when Carlos shows up at the firehouse towards the end of his shift, unannounced. TK is currently sitting at the table, nursing a mineral water and talking to Marjan about the call they've just responded to when Paul's excited exclamation echoes through the otherwise quiet firehouse. 

"Reyes!" He calls, "Long time no see."

TK turns at just the right moment and as Carlos comes into view, a kind smile on his lips, TK can't stop his own from splitting into a grin. Paul's right though, Carlos hasn't been around as much as he used to because of the many hours he's currently working. TK has tried to talk him into taking a few days off but so far Carlos has refused, seemingly needing the distraction his job provides. It makes TK worry but he really tries not to push him too far, he trusts that Carlos will come to him if he's ready. 

"Good to see you too, Strickland," TK hears Carlos laugh, watching as he leans in for a hug, "Work's been crazy lately, you know how it is."

"Don't have to tell me," Paul replies as they break apart, "Just make sure you're taking care of yourself, alright?" 

Carlos' face softens and TK feels his heart clench in his chest. It's not surprising that Paul immediately knows something's been bothering Carlos but it leaves TK a bit unsettled anyway. 

"Your boy's in there, by the way," Paul adds and TK shakes himself out of his thoughts. He watches as Carlos' eyes follow Paul's gesture and when their eyes meet, Carlos' smile settles. He tilts his head in a quick movement, asking TK to meet him outside, and TK is out of his seat before he can start overthinking Carlos' intentions. He jogs up to him, throwing a glance in Paul's direction but Paul has already turned back to his task. 

"Hey," TK exclaims, a little breathless. 

"Hi," Carlos echoes, "You got a minute? There's something I need to talk to you about." 

"Sure," he responds with a grin although he can't help but feel a little anxious, "You have until the bell rings." 

Carlos nods in understanding and turns half a step, walking back out of the firehouse. TK can feel the gazes of his team boring into his back but he takes a deep breath and follows Carlos outside. 

"You okay?" TK asks when he comes to a stop next to Carlos, reaching out a hand to gently touch his wrist, watching him carefully. Carlos' hands are stuffed into his pockets, eyes locked into the distance to the left side of TK and he follows his gaze, quickly realising what has Carlos so transfixed: The sun is setting over the hills, only a few rays of sunshine are left to peek through the buildings, and the clouds are tinted in a soft pink colour that reminds TK of cotton candy. It makes his gut tingle with warmth.  

"Beautiful, isn't it?" He breathes out with a smile. 

"Yeah." 

TK turns to look at Carlos and finds him already looking at him, sporting a smile so soft, TK recognises it as the smile Carlos has reserved for him only. It makes his own smile widen and the anxiety that has previously made him breathless dissipates. 

"You're a sap," TK says and Carlos just shrugs, reaching for TK's hand to pull him close against his side, needing the comfort. He takes a moment to look at TK and the way he tilts his head as he regards Carlos a little sceptically. He raises his brow, biting the inside of his cheek while he does so and Carlos finds it absolutely endearing. The pink sky behind him illuminates his face in a soft, warm glow and something about the light makes the green in his eyes pop out more than usual. He's beautiful and Carlos wishes he could freeze time so he could look at him forever. TK lets him have his fill, Carlos is surprised by how long he lets him stare, but after a while he starts fidgeting. 

"Not that I don't love being the centre of your attention," he confesses, tilting his head down in slight embarrassment, "but you are kind of freaking me out right now."

"Sorry," Carlos laughs, enamored by the colour on TK's cheeks. His gaze drifts back towards the skyline and the weight of what happened today catches up on him again. The smile falls from his face as his muscles tense and the hand that still holds onto TK squeezes involuntarily. 

"Carlos, baby, what's wrong?" TK reaches out with the hand that isn't clutched in Carlos' and squeezes where his neck meets his shoulder, just now noticing how rigid Carlos is. 

"I love you a whole lot," Carlos says slowly, calculated, as his focus turns back to TK, "you know that right?" 

It takes TK a bit off guard if he's honest. They haven't said the words in a while but TK knows, he's always known. Carlos wears his heart on his sleeve and there's not a day that goes by where Carlos doesn't show him how loved he is. 

"Of course," TK tells him and now he's worried. He presses himself to Carlos' side, if to comfort Carlos or himself, he isn't sure, and plants a soft kiss to his shoulder. He looks up at him, searching his face, but as his hand slides down to curl around his elbow, Carlos looks away again. TK notices the tension in his jaw but the way his chest deeply expands with each breath tells TK that Carlos isn't as upset as he initially thought he was. It feels more like he's trying to order his thoughts, desperately searching for something he can't find, something he can no longer make sense of. 

"I visited my parents today," Carlos finally explains and TK's heart skips a beat, squeezing his arm in silent support.

"I told them I lied. I told them that the handsome guy they met at the market a while back wasn't my friend from work but the love of my life." 

Carlos can feel the way TK's breath hitches from how close he stands and it makes him hide a smile. He turns to look at him and watches TK as he opens and closes his mouth, visibly fumbling to assemble his thoughts. Carlos knows exactly what he's thinking. Love of his life? 

"And how do-- how did they react?" TK finally gets out, swallowing heavily. 

"They were calm," Carlos replies, "Surprised. I think they didn't know what to say at first, but after a few minutes of awkward silence my mom started asking about you and the how's and when's of our relationship." He shrugs, a futile attempt to appear nonchalant, but TK can see right through him. The anxiety of that talk probably still lingers. 

"And then she asked me if I was happy."

"Oh," TK mutters and it sounds a little self-conscious, "What did you say?" 

"The truth," he replies, eager to erase TK's doubts, "that you make me the happiest man on earth. That when you walked out on me a month ago, it felt like my heart was torn into a million pieces and that that day, I swore to myself to never make you doubt your place in my life ever again."

Carlos can clearly see the impact his words have on TK and he realises he should've been more open with him. He knows he has turned into himself lately, knows he has tried really hard to hide himself and his feelings away. But the terror he had felt upon the prospect of his parents finding out about TK and their relationship and disapproving of it, has been weighing heavily on him. He doesn't know why he's been so scared, he knows he would survive his parents' rejection, but to Carlos, there's nothing more important than family. And despite the fact that he's a grown man with a secure job and stable relationships, he can't imagine not having his parents' house to return to and seek shelter in if his world starts collapsing. When it comes to his mother, he will always be the soft little guy with too many fears, desperate for a comforting touch or reassuring words. He just can't help it. 

"Carlos," TK pulls him out of his own head and he hurries to order his thoughts. There's something else he needs to get out, a confession that has changed his life completely.

"But you know what my mom did?" 

TK shakes his head. 

"She took my hand and said she was glad I had somebody who loves me. She said she was sorry for how they reacted all those years ago, that they figured by simply acting like it wasn't a big deal, like it didn't change anything, they would do me a favour." 

Carlos chokes on his words, willing away the tears that threaten to spill, and holds onto TK a little stronger. TK presses another kiss to his shoulder, resting his cheek against Carlos and rubbing circles into his arm. He doesn't know why he's getting so emotional now, this is even about him.

"You know what else she said?" Carlos asks.

"Hm?"

"She said couldn't wait to properly meet you."  

TK's eyes widen in surprise and something about the huge smile that's now gracing Carlos' lips, makes him choke on his own tears as well. Carlos reaches for him then, tilting TK's head up for a kiss, and TK all but melts into him. 

"So wait," he mumbles between kisses, "You do want me to meet your parents now right?" 

Carlos laughs again, shaking his head in fond exasperation. "Of course I want you to meet my parents." 

"Ok, ok," TK says and winds his arms around Carlos' neck, "just making sure."

He kisses him again, feverishly so, and when TK pulls back to look at him, Carlos isn't yet ready to let go. He coaxes TK into another kiss and then another and another until he's breathless with it all.

"I'm so proud of you," TK whispers when they finally break apart, gently cupping Carlos' face in his hands, and the noise Carlos makes in response sounds a little pained. Carlos curses silently as he can't help the tears that we'll up in his eyes again. Today has been one hell of a roller coaster ride. 

"You are so fucking brave," TK adds, not allowing Carlos to look away even for a second, and as he raises on his tiptoes to press a series of soft pecks onto Carlos' cheeks, Carlos finally loses the tension in his shoulders. He lets himself be tugged into a hug, his arms winding across TK's back to pull him closer and he allows himself to calm. He pulls back after a while, the urge to see TK too strong to ignore, and when TK smiles at him gleefully, Carlos knows he’s going to be okay. Right here with TK in his arms, he feels safe. 

"I love you," TK tells him, his hands resting against the back of Carlos' neck and Carlos has to kiss him for it. It's probably wildly inappropriate, standing outside the firehouse wrapped around each other like that, but Carlos doesn't care, he only has one priority and that's kissing TK. Judging by the way TK holds onto him and reciprocates the kiss, Carlos doesn't think he minds either. He does eventually break the kiss, much to TK's dismay, but only because there's more he needs to say.

He takes another moment to look at TK, it seems that he can't stop staring at him today, and the flush shining high on his cheekbones makes Carlos' stomach flutter. His eyes are wide with joy, his lips red and puffy and he looks so god damn perfect, Carlos cannot wait to take him home and show him how utterly loved he is. He reaches up a hand and cups his jaw, pressing another longing kiss to his lips that leaves TK chasing after him with eyes still closed. Carlos presses his thumb to TK's bottom lip, applying gentle pressure, and he watches mesmerized as TK swallows, his eyes fluttering open with a gasp. 

"Move in with me," Carlos says and the way TK's brows raise almost comically makes him stifle a laugh. 

"What?" TK responds confusedly. 

"You heard me. Move in with me, Ty." 

TK studies him for a few seconds, probably debating whether he's understood Carlos correctly and what comes out of his mouth is exactly what Carlos had expected. 

"Are you sure about this?" He asks, a hint of excitement glinting behind the insecurity in his eyes but Carlos knows he needs more reassurance than that. 

"Sure about wanting you to come home to me every day? Absolutely."

"And you're not just saying that because I've complained about my parents so much lately?" 

Carlos huffs out a laugh, gently squeezing TK's hip. 

"Look, of course I want you to have a safe space to retreat to when things get difficult with your parents but it's not just that."

TK's lips twitch into a smile and Carlos has to force himself not to kiss him again because if he did, he's not sure he could make himself stop. There's just something about the way TK looks at him that lights a fire in his chest. 

"I miss you when you're not around," Carlos explains, his voice dropping low with emotion, "the house is far too quiet and the bed far too cold without you there. You already occupy so much space in my heart, it's only reasonable you occupy space in my home, hopefully our home, too." 

TK lets out a watery laugh, biting his bottom lip in an attempt to hold the tears at bay. 

"That was so damn cheesy," he says and Carlos fears if he smiles any harder, he's going to tear his face apart. There's not a hint of nervousness in Carlos, he already knows what TK's answer is going to be.

"Well did it work?" He asks anyway, his own smile hurting his cheeks. 

TK squints at him, pretending to think it over, but he's far too happy to be a little shit about it for long.

"Yeah," he replies softly, genuinely, "I love you, Carlos, more than I ever thought possible and I hope you know that you make me really happy too. So yes, I'd love to move in with you." 

Carlos leans down and kisses him but their smiles are too wide for it to be a proper kiss. 

"You know I would offer you a key in a grand romantic gesture but you already have one."

TK makes a snorting sound, shaking his head in amusement. 

"So no grand romantic gestures for me?"

Carlos' smile turns soft then, images of a shared future appearing in his head and they look as beautiful as cotton candy skies. 

"Not this time, no."

TK wriggles his eyebrows knowingly and it makes Carlos blush, but his smile changes as well. It's sweeter now, his eyes mirroring what Carlos feels, and sometimes Carlos wonders what he did to deserve a love this special. 

"This time, huh?" TK asks, and the roughness of his voice masks the humour in his response, "Are you already planning a proper one then?" 

Carlos just shrugs and secures his hold on TK, but it's not like he ever plans on letting go anyway. 

"Maybe."

TK launches himself at him, pulling Carlos into another earth-shattering, toe-curling, breath-stealing kiss, and as the sun fully sets behind them, the sky now a warm orange, something in Carlos settles. Marriage is not something that is going to happen in the near future, they both know, but if Carlos is already making a mental checklist of everything he needs for the perfect proposal, TK doesn't have to know. 

[splintergirl13]

So here is a little head cannon I thought of while reading your fan fic.

What if herobrine never had/celebrated his birthday so he forgot when it was, so Steve and Alex pick a day and celebrate his birthday with him. (P.s. sorry I have horrific grammer)

I liked this idea so much I made a little drabble under the read more :3 I hope it is worthy of such an great headcanon! Thank you so much for the ask! It fills me with joy to hear that people are thinking about my story lol <3. And don't worry. Grammar is hard and doesn't make any sense. I feel your pain

Before we dive in: this takes place pretty earlier into Steve and Brine becoming friends. So they are just starting to pine. Not in a relationship yet. Alex and Brine are still a little wary of each other but have come to accept that they are stuck with each other.

I'd say this is rated teen for just some small strong language lol

-

The Birthday Brine

-

It was a hot, lazy summer afternoon. Too nice to spend down in the mines. But a little too warm to do any strenuous activities.

So Alex and Steve decided to go on down to the small river they frequented on days like today. A secluded area where the water pooled deep enough to swim. And, of course, Herobrine tagged along. As was becoming more of the norm these days.

Steve was lying comfortably in the shade of a few trees on the bank of the river. Legs in the water; small waves lapped up to his knees as the water went by. Arms crossed behind his head. His shirt was off and laid over his eyes, shutting out any of the light that filtered through the leaves. Not really dozing off, but close to it.

Herobrine was similarly relaxing. He lay on his belly; balanced precariously on a nearby tree that had fallen over the river. Looking like a big cat lounging about in the direct sun. Soaking up the rays. One hand was draped down to the side, touching the cool water.

Alex was the only one fully in the river. She was a little upstream, floating on her back. She had taken off her pants, leaving them on the shore, and let her long green shirt cover her lower half. Every once in a while she would swim back to her original place as the current took her down towards Herobrine.

The trio had been chatting absentmindedly. Talking about anything, really. Steve ranted humorously about his pickaxe making a squeaking sound. Alex discussed way too many of the current happenings in town. Even Herobrine brought up that a dragonfly had landed on his shoulder. Which had the trio all staring for a bit before it flew off and they went back to their current positions.

It wasn't until a certain question came to Alex’s mind that the peace of the scene was disturbed.

"Hey Sparky." The adventurer asked. "...How old are you?"

Herobrine took a while to answer. Seeming to think through the question slowly. Finally he asked without opening his eyes. "Why?"

"Just curious." Alex shrugged, swimming a little.

The demon shifted. Now peaking over to look at Steve. It was like the miner could tell that he was being looked at because he lifted his shirt to look back questioningly.

Herobrine spoke up. "When was the last time I respawned? Four months ago?"

Steve frowned. "Yes. More like three. You fell through a roof, remember?"

"Right, right." Herobrine moved his hand up out of the water. "Terribly made and rusty old structure. Glad it forced a respawn. Tetanus is not fun even with healing powers."

"Why is this relevant?" Alex asked impatiently.

"I'm 28." Herobrine said immediately.

Alex sat up in the water. Causing a bit of a ruckus amongst some fish that had gotten close. "No you're not!"

"Yes I am." Herobrine turned his attention to her. She shuddered ever so slightly under his scrutinizing stare. "Every time I die, I respawn back to the same age at which I turned immortal."

Alex crossed her hands over her chest. "Okay, well that's only technically. I meant, like, if you count ALL the years you've been alive."

"I have no fucking clue, Alex." Herobrine rolled his head to the otherside of the tree to ignore her. Yet continued to talk. "Time loses all meaning when you're immortal. Not to mention I was trapped in the nether for most of that time. So it's even harder to tell."

"What's your best guess?" Steve asked, now curious as well.

And the head came back around. Looking at Steve. The demon wouldn't ignore the miner. He bit his lip, eyes trailing towards the water. "I dunno... maybe a few centuries... a millennia or so..."

"Old." Steve clarified. Seeing that the demon was struggling a little.

"Yeah... old." Herobrine scowled.

"So, what, do we have to, like, wait until you live a year to celebrate your birthday?" Alex giggled. "No wonder you don't remember it. It would never be your birthday based on that criteria."

Herobrine scoffed. "What are you talking about?"

"Yeah." Steve added, putting the shirt back over his eyes. "Come to think of it, when is your birthday, Brine?"

"You want to know the exact date I was born?" Herobrine sat up now, clearly confused. "Fuck... I don't know. I didn't even keep track of days back then. I just survived. It wasn't until I met... my brother that we talked about days. And he was able to do some weird 'code calculation' as he called it to figure out my true age. But we didn't really care about that. None of us counted in the aether. None of us wanted to count. When you have endless time you tend not to care. It's a depressing chore."

"So none of you celebrated your birthday?" Alex asked.

"Why would you celebrate your birth?" Herobrine growled. "Existence is a curse."

"That's why we have to celebrate!" Alex exclaimed. "It helps us mortals to forget about our fleeting existence."

"Yeah!" Steve enthusiastically raised a fist to the sky in agreement.

"Like the aether needed another reason to celebrate..." Herobrine grumbled, flopping back down on the tree. "The amount of bullshit dances I had to get dressed up for was astronomical."

"So you really have never had a birthday, huh?" Steve wasn't sure why he was surprised.

"Nope." Herobrine said, popping the p and settling back on the tree. Thinking that was the end of the conversation.

But Steve and Alex had other plans.

"Bro you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"You think we have enough time today?"

"Sure why not? We were already planning on going into town together."

"Then we better hurry."

"What are you two talking about?" Herobrine muttered. The siblings were getting out of the water and putting back on their clothes.

"We're going to throw you a birthday party!" Steve smiled over at him.

Herobrine almost fell off his branch.

"W-what? Why?"

Alex shrugged. "Well, if you don't know what day your birthday is, it might as well be any day. And since we are already all together and don't have any plans for the rest of the evening... why not?"

Herobrine teleported off his tree and stood next to the two. "You really don't need to-"

"Too late, it's happening." Alex smiled. Starting to walk off. Not putting on her shoes as she walked through the increasingly tall grass.

"Go wait in the nether and come back around sunset!" Steve pushed on his back excitedly. As if he could shove him through a portal that wasn't there.

"Why?"

"We are gonna surprise you!"

"Oh. Yippee. Surprise." Herobrine did not mask his unenthusiasm.

"It'll be fun, I promise." Steve said as he stopped pushing and went to go join Alex.

Herobrine was left alone and very confused as to what had just happened. He blinked up at the setting sun and winced. He wouldn't know the correct time in the nether. So he decided to go back to his tree branch and relax until the time came. He had no idea what was in store for him. But he didn't try to think too hard about it. If he didn't like it he could always teleport away.

All this talk of aether and age had his head buzzing with unpleasant thoughts. He tried to will them away and think of nothing instead. Watching as the river flowed beneath him. The dragonfly landed back on his hands.

-

It was just after sunset when Herobrine was walking up to Steve's small house and knocking on the door. Steve was adamant about him knocking. As Herobrine had the tendency to just teleport into a location, unannounced. There was the sound of muffled talking as well as a wonderful smell of something cooking in the furnace.

He heard the miner walk towards the door, he recognized his footsteps easily. Much different than Alex’s.

Steve cracked open the door. "Herobrine, you have perfect timing! We are just finishing up."

Herobrine tried to move forward but Steve closed the door more. He smiled, shyly. "Er. You gotta close your eyes."

"... Why?"

Steve smiled wider. "It's all part of the process."

So Herobrine huffed and closed his eyes. Steve took him by the hand. Leading him inside. Herobrine could feel his heartbeat where they connected. The miner was excited. So Herobrine was excited.

He was led into the house and then Steve stopped and walked over to join where he could sense Alex.

"Surprise!" They both yelled.

Herobrine stood there with his eyes closed. Face oozing confusion.

"Open your eyes now, Brine." Steve whispered loudly to him.

"Oh." And he did. He blinked and took in the sight.

The inside of the house was decorated with a few colored strings on the ceiling and what seemed to be little torches everywhere else. It was very simple and yet very pretty.

"Do you like it?" Alex asked.

"We didn't have too much time to decorate so we made due with what we had." Steve said. "Probably not as fancy as your aether parties."

"No." Herobrine smiled. "But I like this better." The aether parties were always decorated with too much. This was nice and made Herobrine feel cozy.

Alex gestured to the table, patting the chair to sit down. "Since it's pretty late we figured we'd just do a birthday dinner. Steve said you would eat if we made you food."

Herobrine nodded. Glad he hadn't had anything to eat for a while. He wasn't the biggest fan of eating. Steve had been reintroducing it to him slowly. The miner was an excellent cook.

"Good!" Alex smiled. Steve sat next to Herobrine at the table. "I handled dinner and Steve handled the most important part of a birthday, the dessert!"

"It all smells nice." Herobrine commented politely. It did. He was actually excited to eat.

Alex disappeared into the kitchen. Preparing plates for them all. Steve and Herobrine shared a look. Both smiling, somewhat uncomfortable and comfortable at the same time. It didn't last long as Alex came out with two plates, setting it down in front of them.

The meal consisted of roasted corn, slathered in butter, some sort of shredded pork on bread with some sweet sauce, and a cold potato salad. Steve instantly dug in. Probably hungry from all the work they had been doing. Herobrine waited for Alex to return with her own plate before starting to pick at the food. It wasn't long before he was eating more sloppily than Steve. Alex apologized, saying she wanted to make something more special like a smoked biscuit but Herobrine wasn't sure why she was sorry. It was all delicious. And Herobrine found himself wanting to eat the entire plate. It was the perfect meal on the warm night.

The house was filled with the delightful sounds of eating. None of them talked very much. Not needing to. Just enjoying each other’s company. And the food! They were all very invested in the food.

Once they were done, Herobrine was tempted to ask for more. But he remembered that there was still dessert to eat. He started to try to clean up his plate. But Steve stopped him immediately. "Ah, ah. No dishes when it's your birthday."

"Hmm. This birthday business keeps getting better." Herobrine smirked at him.

Steve disappeared into the kitchen and returned with two plates filled with two generous slices of homemade chocolate cake.

He set them down in front of Alex and his own seats. "We have a special slice for you, Herobrine. Hold on."

Steve rushed away and walked slowly back with a similar piece of cake. But this one had a very tiny torch stuck in the middle of it. Herobrine blinked. Huh. Strange.

"It's a candle." Steve explained. "It's a tradition to have some on your cake. We only had this old one." He set the on fire cake in front of him. Herobrine enjoyed the fire flare. "Usually you have a candle for every year you've been alive."

"But that would've set the house on fire." Alex snickered.

Herobrine rolled his eyes and tried to grab his fork. But Alex stopped him. "Wait! We have to sing to you!"

"Er, no thanks." That seemed silly. He did not want to be sung to.

Steve made a face. "I don't like that part either. I think we should skip it."

"We have to! It's tradition!" Alex wrapped her elbow around Steve’s neck. "Come on, Stevie. One time!"

"Alright. Alright." He caved easily. And they began.

Herobrine sat awkwardly as the two sang a little song. Saying his name. Herobrine had never heard Steve sing. It was nice. He had a pleasant voice. He thought the man should sing more. He hummed a lot but never truly sang.

Once they were done. Alex said. "Now you make a wish and blow out the candle."

"A wish? Wish for what?"

"For anything." Steve added. "But you have to wish in your head. And don't tell anyone or your wish won't come true."

"Like a curse?"

"Yeah kinda. But it's just for fun."

The demon chewed on his lip. Seeming to think about it. He nodded eventually. "Okay. I've made my wish."

"Now blow out the candle to complete the spell." Alex joked. Steve nudged her.

Herobrine looked at the small torch on the cake and willed the fire away. It went out.

Alex and Steve stared. Alex giggled. "Guess there's more than one way to skin an ocelot."

"Why would you-" Herobrine blinked.

"It's an expression." Steve laughed, sitting down and picking up his fork to eat his piece of cake. "Ignore her and dig in while the cake is still warm."

Herobrine did, setting the small torch- candle aside and picking up his fork to eat. The cake looked moist. Fresh. And smelled absolutely delicious. His mouth was watering before he even put the treat in his mouth.

When he took a bite he almost moaned. "H-holy fuck." He quickly took another bite.

Alex giggled. "Never had a Steve-made cake have you?"

"Steve, you should stop cooking everything and just make cake from now on." Herobrine had almost finished his piece already. It was just so damn good. He couldn't stop.

"Then it wouldn't be special." Steve chuckled. Looking happy that they both seemed to be enjoying his cake.

"Can I have more?" Herobrine asked, frosting definitely smeared all over his face, unabashedly.

Steve and Alex howled at that. The demon just looked so different from how they normally saw him. It was nice. And also hilarious.

Herobeine got a second slice and sat back, looking full. The demon didn't usually eat so it was a lot all at once. Totally worth it though.

"Present time!" Alex jumped up from the table as Steve moved the dishes into the kitchen.

"Present time?" Herobrine parroted.

"You get presents on your birthday!" Alex walked over to grab two things that had been set aside on a coffee table. "From everyone who comes to the party."

Alex handed Steve something and walked back to the table to give Herobrine a rectangle that looked like a book wrapped in paper. Herobrine took it confused. "Er, thanks?" He held it in his hands.

"You gotta open it dude!" Alex said excitedly.

"Open it?"

"Yeah tear open the paper!"

"Oh." Herobrine, a demon of destruction, ironically opened the book very carefully. Not wanting to damage it.

He held the book up once it was unwrapped. It was, indeed, a book. Not too hard to guess correctly.

"It's a book of modern day phrases." Alex explained. Tapping the cover. She smirked. "I know that you have some trouble with some of our more modern hip lingo."

Herobrine lifted an eyebrow at her. He flipped to a random page. "There's more than one way to skin an ocelot? Oh. I get your 'joke' now."

"See. You're learning already." She snickered. Steve smiled too.

Herobrine looked confused. But not unappreciative. He waved his hand, tucking the book away into his inventory. "Er, thanks. I will read the rest later."

"No problem!" She giggled. She then pushed Steve forward. "Go ahead, your turn."

Steve had a paper package tied up in butcher's twine behind his back. He coughed and walked forward, handing Herobrine the parcel.

The demon took it. Knowing what to do now, he tore into the paper. Revealing what was inside.

He paused when he realized what it was after pulling all the paper off and letting it float to the ground.

"It's... your cloak." Herobrine said. Not giving away any emotion. Steve seemed to droop a little. Expecting him to be a little happier. Alex nudged the miner. They shared a look. Steve rolled his eyes. He walked closer to the demon, touching the cloak in his hands.

"I knew it would already fit you. And there wasn't enough time to get you a new one made. I just know how much you like to borrow it from me when it gets colder." Steve ran his fingers along the cloak. Pointing out some stitching on the green material. "I sewed up all the holes so it won't be as drafty. And-" He tapped the button that held the cloak together. "I replaced the old latch with a golden one I got from town today. I know you said you like to wear a little gold in the nether for piglin respect or... whatever." The miner let go of the cloak and backed up, rubbing his head awkwardly.

Herobrine stared at the green gloak. Rubbing the material in his fingers.

"If... if you don't like-"

"I love it." Herobrine almost whispered. Sounding so genuine it made Steve blush and Alex smile. "It's perfect."

"O-oh." Steve scratched his head again. "Good. I'm glad." He smiled, looking away. Desperately trying to hide his blush. He had gone bright red. And Herobrine wasn't helping.

The demon stood instantly and put the cloak around his body. He had worn it before. But it looked different now. Like it was his now. It was truly his.

Herobrine looked up at Steve. "This is... the greatest gift I've ever been given." He didn't smile but his glowing eyes said it all. He was absolutely telling the truth. "Thank you, Steven."

The miner stared back. Smiling to the side and tilting his head. Embarrassed but screaming on the inside in happiness.

Alex had to butt in. Not liking the way the two were looking at each other and getting a little protective of Steve. "Pfft. Thanks a lot there, Briney boy. Glad my gift meant nothing."

Herobrine blinked. Processing the words. And then realized. "Oh, no, sorry Alex. Thank you as well."

"Yeah whatever." Alex nudged him with her fist, walking past him. She then let out a yawn. "Well. I think I'm all birthday partied out. Mind if I crash on your couch, Stevie? It's too late to walk home."

"Sure I'll get you some blankets." Steve mimicked the yawn. His eyes looked tired. They did do a lot to put the party together for him. They deserved a rest. "Happy Birthday, Brine."

"Thank you." Herobrine nodded. "Thank you both. This was... enjoyable."

"See our traditions aren't so bad." Alex said, flopping down on the couch.

"I do believe I've judged it too early." Herobrine nodded. "You do this every year?"

"Yep. And you get to do the planning and gift giving to us when it's our birthdays. No party is exactly the same." Alex nodded. "I think planning is actually more fun than celebrating your own birthday."

"Oh. Well I look forward to that. You will have to remind me when the time comes. Time is... difficult for me."

"Of course, dude." Steve produced some blankets from the closet. Herobrine sensed it was time to make his leave. He headed for the door.

"Thank you again." He said a little awkwardly. "I will uh, see you both tomorrow."

"Sounds good!" "Bye!" The siblings said.

And with Herobrine out the door. Steve and Alex looked at each other.

"I think that went well." Steve said.

"I think you owe me money for not making a single birthday suit joke." Alex said back. He threw the blankets over her head as she giggled.

"Goodnight Alex!" He went to his bedroom, trying to hide his blush. "Put out the candles before you sleep."

"I'm just saying, Stevie! That would've been a better gift if you-"

"Goodnight Alex!!"

Herobrine stood just outside the door. He wiggled his shoulders a little. Feeling the soft weight of the cloth around his shoulders. He smiled. Feeling warm inside and out. And teleported off.

[reynie-muldoons]

'The Dance of the Celestial Orb' liveblog!

for real this time lmfao

book and show spoilers below

I'm ✨nervous✨ please let our children be okay

0:10 this Sticky arc hurts me so kuch

1:35 this music is BUMPIN

2:22 I just wanna know how she got under there without the dude seeing her

2:47 "all systems go" for the Improvement.... yikes 😬😬😬

2:55 she didn't wait even 5 seconds after they left, the door was still closing when she popped up 😂 can you imagine if one of them doubled back right at that moment

3:18 they look like the dudes from that veggietales movie, I think it was Esther- the island of perpetual tickling?? Anyone??? 😂😂😂

4:00 Kate vented.......

4:51 "not a rat" yeah no shit

5:07 if not for the suspense, I would be jamming out lmaooo

6:10 Mr. Benedict is looking at the shoreline, is he about to watch Kate dive in???? Because I mean that's where she's gotta be going

6:20 "memory challenges"? Is Rhonda talking about Milligan's amnesia, or has short term memory been affected as well??

6:29 .....thank you for answering so efficiently 😂

6:42 "I buy it. I completely.... buy it." RHONDA THAT'S NOT HELPFUL AHSKSHDJKD

6:56 can you imagine seeing your friend go down in a sub then hours later seeing the sub float up in fucking PIECES

7:06 KATE! KATE! KATE! KATE!

7:06 please let it be reunion time

7:25 oh hello that's a drop

7:38 *to the tune of Bezos I* come on Katie u can do it pave the way put ur back into it

7:51 she craves that mineral

8:06 Sticky, my child

8:20 oh my gosh they went out and LOOKED FOR HER I care them 😭😭😭

8:23 SHE KNEW HIS DREAM SHE KNEW HIS DREAM TELEPATH TELEPATH TELEPATH

8:34 STICKY STOPPPP

8:40 "jumping to conclusions is a failure of character" wow that really is something Curtain would say

8:52 angry Reynie. He is in rare form

8:54 "and you helped put her there!" OOOOOOOH I SCREAMED

9:03 "I shouldn't have yelled" okay but you kinda should have Sticky needs a wake up call

9:06 "dont apologize. I like this side of you." IS THIS THE START OF REYNIE AND CONSTANCE HAVING THE BEST SIBLING RELATIONSHIP

9:22 "if you really cared about me, you'd want me to be happy instead of standing there telling me who I am" oh Sticky my dude I am NOT digging the manipulation

9:36 Reynie pulling out the BFF card!!! Also Reynie digging in his feet because he knows he's right!!!! That's great setup for his arc as a strategist later

9:48 "I'm telling you, Kate's fine." Narrator: Kate was not, in fact, fine.

10:03 "they'll notice." Sticky has made one (1) good point.

10:11 oh dear god are they fingerprinting this bitch

10:19 all this equipment, has no one walked up to the cliff and looked down???

10:23 HAHAHAHA WAIT THEY ACTUALLY HAVEN'T

10:27 "we've been out here all night" that means Kate has been clinging to a cliff by her fingers and toes ALL NIGHT????

11:04 babe I know it's been a long night but maybe wait a second for them to actually leave before you climb back up

11:15 BUCKET NO

11:22 she has to go get it. There's no way someone wouldn't find that shit, it's in plain view

11:37 "WAS"???? WHY ARE WE SAYING WAS????? NO PAST TENSE HERE MILLIGAN'S FINE

11:43 "I only wish we could've known him better" NOOOPE NONONO WE'RE NOT DOING THIS

11:47 Rhonda back at it as the voice of reason!!!!!

11:59 "I have never met a more competent swimmer" throwback to "the baaAAAYYYY"

12:10 MR. BENEDICT'S FACE HAHAHAHA HOLD ON LET ME TAKE A PICTURE IM DYING

12:11 NUMBER TWO, NOT HELPING

12:14 RHONDA'S FACE HAHENDJDKDN

12:33 "we will go rescue him" because of COURSE he would

12:36 Rhonda is his best wingwoman omfg she's so consistent

12:54 MISS PERUMAL??????

12:56 MISS PERUMAL!!!!!!

13:00 SHE KNOWS HE'S RIGHT GAKSHDBDHEKSNND

13:09 "how hard can it be? It's an island!" PFFFFT

13:16 oh SQ baby boy please get out of there

13:25 "I certainly have my own suspicions" he said, looking at SQ why are you looking at SQ like that

13:31 SQ GET OUT OF THERE PLEASE IS2G

13:36 here we fuckin go

13:43 the captions have the f in forest capitalized like it's this special place

13:43 new hc that the Forest is a magical place like pixie hollow

13:57 TWO THINGS: 1. YES stand up for yourself baby!!!! 2. Shepard Quaid? Interesting! I don't think we ever got SQ's full name in the books, I hope TLS made that decision!

14:08 your "father hat"??? Oh my gosh shut the fuck up right there don't even continue

14:16 oh yeah real fuckin cute put on your "steward of this institution hat" and call that a good reason to be a shit person

14:43 "No." GOOD FOR HIMMMM GOOD JOB SQ

15:03 Kate's struggling right by the shore where a certain someone would be returning after a very hard swim, it would be a great time for a meeting wouldn't you think

15:09 KATE THE GREAT

15:11 "THE TRAPESE GODDESS" I WILL REFER TO HER AS NOTHING ELSE

15:26 sorry but that green screen of her falling was kinda funny

15:28 soooooo is someone, a very certain someone, gonna catch her...??????

15:36 YEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH

15:43 IS THIS IT????@?@?!?

15:46 awww poor baby girl you can tell how tired she is

15:46 just putting this out there- they look so good in frame together

15:46 the actor who plays Milligan is fucking huge in stature so I wasn't sure how that would go but it looks so good

16:00 THE WAY HE'S LOOKING AT HER WITH HIS HAND ON HER SHOULDER I CANT DO THISSSSS

16:20 "keep going." 😭😭😭😭😭

16:23 "you dont understand." Ohhhh I think he does

16:25 "I think I do." What did I tell you, he's got your back babygirl

16:45 I'm so glad she's talking this out, and with Milligan of all people

17:01 it makes so much sense for Kate to feel alone in that situation, and when Kate feels anything less than positive she goes and does something, whatever that something is.

17:05 "So.. I...." "fell off a cliff and nearly died." Thanks for putting things into perspective Milligan

17:05 Milligan is such a good dad stop

17:19 "most of the way" is an understatement LMFAO

17:29 I'm so glad we know the intimate details of Milligan's illustrious swimming abilities 😂 out of all the new things wfrom the show that one wasnt on my radar

17:52 leave it to Milligan to come up with an escape plan off of an island with no water vessel with four kids in tow

18:08 THEYRE SO CUTE 😭😭😭😭

18:08 lowkey I'm super surprised they didnt take this opportunity to have Milligan's arduous swim force his memories out and have the father daughter bonding time they deserve. I hope they give that moment ample time to flesh out.

18:13 BUCKET!!!

18:13 wait that shot is so artsy hold up lmfao

18:13 this looks like someone's photography final hahahaha

18:26 THE TENDER MUSIC STOPPPP 😭😭😭

18:41 Sticky is still on that jumping to conclusions bs he got from Curtain

18:44 WETHERALL'S WIDGET 😭

19:31 "Kate... she's in danger..." NO SHIT SHERLOCK

19:36 "and it's all because of me." Not just because of you but love to see you taking responsibility

19:52 once again I am asking WHY ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT THIS IN THE OPEN

20:26 "Kate. She has changed." "Not really. She's always been who she is." "Her clothes. She changed clothes." PFFFT HAHHAHA they really took a moment of self-reflection and made it so much better

20:55 AYYYYY KATE'S DEPENDENCY ARC CONTINUESSSSS

21:35 yikes yikes yikes

22:16 I love that Mr. Benedict got closure in telling Miss Perumal that her words stuck with him

22:40 the way she just knows Reynie took the position of leader 😭😭

22:54 SHE WROTE HIM A LETTERRR

23:02 "Would it be possible to get this to him?" Ma'am what part of undercover spy don't you get

23:54 it's still really weird that we are now in a position where Reynie is the one who is not trusted and Sticky is the one in Curtain's favor

24:13 and here we see Curtain's thinly veiled anger issues shining through

24:21 "the little things matter. Every minor detail, it all matters!" CALLBACK TO MR. BENEDICT TELLING THE CHILDREN THAT THEY ALL MATTER

24:55 "I can tell with complete accuracy when a person is lying." first of all, no. second of all, I cannot wait for him to talk to Constance.

26:33 why is Mr. Benedict graphically explaining the children's potential trauma so funny to me

26:40 "you're catastrophizing." "Yes. I am. Quite severely. Thank you." WHY IS THIS FUNNY

26:58 MADGE!!!!

27:16 she's so prettyyyyy

27:33 GOOD JOB MADGE!!!!!

27:36 wait did she just take the LETTER??? she's delivering the LETTER?????

28:05 WHAT DOES "OKAY FINE" MEAN??? REYNIE??????

28:22 it's sad because it's true 🥺

28:24 "I miss my teacher from the orphanage" the best lies are the ones rooted in truth 🥺🥺🥺

28:48 roll credits

29:16 Reynie honey Orion's Belt isn't on the ceiling

29:29 the way he was so confident that he had it right 😑 Curtain Stop Being a Pretentious Fuck challenge

29:52 our babygirl is so smartttt

29:55 did Milligan plant his prints 😳 oh no OH NO

29:57 MARTINA???? WHATSUEJHDKD

29:57 is this the replacement for when they pin cheating on her????

30:03 THE KEY CARD!!!!

30:11 MADGEEEE

30:21 "one attacked me as a small child" honey you are a small child

30:24 "it did not win," she said, smiling menacingly

30:40 "so we dance again" WHY DID THE MUSIC REV UP WHEN SHE SAID THAT HAHAHAHA

31:01 ✨woodworking is a passion✨

31:58 "was it functional?" "Well I guess that depends on how you define functionality" RHONDA'S FACE IN THE BACKGROUND HAHAHAHA

32:10 OH HEY MARTINA

32:17 wait 🥺

32:22 that has to be SQ :)

32:28 hi sweet boy

32:34 please tell me they did that shot of the sandwich because Madge is about to take it

32:39 LMFAOOOOO

32:44 hi good girl!!! Enjoy your snackies

32:50 oh god oh no the LETTER

33:25 oh wow we're doing this NOW??

33:52 and here we see another example of Curtain's thinly veiled anger issues bubbling to the surface

34:10 hey what if you uhhh weren't such an asshole

34:33 that man's voice is buttery

34:52 REYNIE'S TRYING TO TELL SQ????

35:02 and they're talking about this right in front of the office door, WHY??

35:24 AND THEY'RE TALKING ABOUT THIS RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE OFFICE DOOR, WHY????

35:55 he's letting him go 🥺🥺🥺🥺

36:14 why does that look like a body bag

36:17 oh my gosh it definitely is a body bag, hey Martina

36:25 yep, that's about what I expected

36:36 "whoever did this to me, they're gonna pay" oh girl do I have some bad news for you

37:12 ahhhh, so Martina is the burnt out gifted kid who keeps going out of spite and sheer force of will

37:12 everything makes much more sense now

37:30 ohhhhh my gosh feelings time

37:44 "I think it's awesome." "Yeah. I know you do." THE SHIPPERS ARE THRIVING

37:54 THEY REALLY WANT TO MAKE THIS AS PAINFUL AS POSSIBLE HUH

38:10 "it's the least I can do" that's an understatement 😬

38:14 AAWWWWW SHKSHSLSBDK

38:20 "I don't know what I'd do without you, Wetherall" STOPPPPP

38:30 HEY BUD UH MAYBE CLOSE YOUR DOOR???

38:38 he's been writing letters to her every night and now he finally gets one back 😭😭

39:34 so Miss Perumal wrote this letter with the intention of it being sent to him, right- why did she write it like that?? 😂

39:34 they've gone to such lengths to communicate in code but the letter kind of undermines that- it was written in such a way that an onlooker would know Reynie was a spy but wouldn't know what he was doing or why. No wonder SQ was pissed

39:41 KATE!!

40:10 BREAKING NEWS: local bastard man treats everyone like shit

40:15 ohhhhh SQ bud please be careful

40:30 "always have time for my son," he said in a clipped voice that implied that he does not have time for his son

40:35 ohhh he's getting RIGHT INTO IT HUH

40:41 you mean to tell me he's never asked about Mr. Curtain's work?? Ever???? Somehow that doesn't seem right to me

40:57 hey uh what if you didn't talk down to SQ at every opportunity

41:02 "would you care to reconsider that answer, son?" "No." DIG THOSE HEELS IN SQ!!!!

41:22 I'm really not digging that Curtain is using the guise of openly expressing his feelings to communicate his anger and his unasked question. Not cool bitch head

41:33 the fact that he didn't answer SQ's spoken question kind of also answers his unspoken question

41:45 "I knew there was something off about that girl. But espionage?" "How do you so convincingly fake a tetherball obsession?" I love that this entire conversation could be about Martina or Kate interchangeably

42:34 WELL THAT'S NOT GOOD

42:36 IF IT WAS THAT EASY TO FIND WITH BINOCULARS HOW HAD THEY NOT BEEN SPOTTED UP UNTIL THIS POINT?!!?#? HOW????

43:05 Kate advocating for Martina with the Society 🥺🥺 the interaction I didn't know I needed

43:58 "I definitely don't like to leave anything unfinished." "That's true, I've seen you eat." PFFFFT

44:05 YESS YOU GO STICKY USE YOUR ACCESS FOR PRIME INTEL

44:19 "well, you can't succeed without me, so..." baby girl you have no idea how right you are

44:28 please let that be Milligan PLEASE LET THAT BE MILLIGAN

44:32 YEAAAAAHHHHH

44:35 I simply adore him

44:45 "would you mind helping me down, please? I'm stuck." Your honor I would die for this man

44:54 oh shit, Martina's tryna sleuth it out herself.. this can't end well

45:04 is she about to find Kate's marbles or something?? Callback to the book?

45:26 the absolute MURDER in her eyes

45:31 FUCKIN YIKES

45:41 "the clothes of someone who had given up" ASEJDGEIDNDLFK

45:47 well that's not good

46:00 WELL THAT'S NOT GOOD

46:04 PLEASE let them be on their way already, please

46:14 THEY MADE A BLIMP????

46:17 Goodyear is QUAKING

46:35 why the fuck is Number Two in red, that's upsetting on principle

THEYRE JUST ENDING IT THERE???? goddamnit!!!!

How surreal is it that next week is the finale?? Idk if I'm ready for that????

[mimiplaysgames]

save it for the morning after (3/3)

Pairing: Terra/Aqua Rating: E (Explicit) for Smut Word Count: 7,850

Summary: Aqua learns the value of being vulnerable.Terra learns to trust his body to another. Everyone gets a happy ending. ;)

Read on AO3

A/N: AAAAHHHH Happy Terraqua Day!!!! I can’t believe I finally finished this one, it always felt like it would never happen. I’m actually quite nervous - I don’t take the same kind of path of other smut and being so deviant honestly freaks me out so much. I really do pull this story into extreme directions for smut, that I wonder if I can call it smut at all. But let’s see. Hope you like. <3

~*~*~*~*~

“Aqua.”

“Hm?”

“I’ve been meaning to ask you…”

“Go ahead.”

“....”

“Are you okay?”

“The... um, your scars...”

“They’re not yours.”

“Aqua—”

“They aren’t.”

“Please.”

“...They’re not yours.”

~*~*~*~*~

Well, damn.

Ven hones in on Terra—a ballsy move considering it’s a super-bad idea to get this close to a large opponent—but Ven skids, spinning on his knees and tripping Terra like a pet running through its owner’s legs. Ven serves an uppercut with his short Keyblade. It almost jabs Terra on the ribs if not for his lurch backward, and he lands squarely on his ass against the desk behind him. 

A pot of ink rattles and tips, spilling all over his pants and spreading up the spine of his shirt. 

Ven snorts. “You look like you shit yourself.”

Terra wipes his backside, picking up excess ink in layers. It’s slick, skating through his fingers with the weight of iron and dripping onto the floor. More of it runs between his legs, finding a way in between cracks and folds of skin, moistening up his boxers. Damn it. He slathers his hand through Ven’s hair with so much force (Hey!) that Ven waddles to stay in balance. 

“And you look like you’ve been picking through trash.”

Ink clumps chunks of blond hair together, drooling down Ven’s ears and staining his collar. It makes him look oily for lack of a better term, like someone who hasn’t taken a shower in weeks. When he touches his scalp out of reflex he flinches, wiping his coated fingers on his own shirt… before realizing what he’s doing. He groans. 

“It suits you,” Terra says. 

“I dunno.” Ven wipes the rest of it on Terra’s shirt. “Looks better on you.” Might as well. The shirt is honestly ruined. 

One corner of the offending desk is covered in globs of shiny black. Terra corrects the ink bottle and surveys the damage. The tile floor will be easy to clean, but the wood is inhaling the color. 

“Aqua’s going to kill us,” Ven mutters. “She spent a lot of time in this room.”

Weeks of time choosing which books to display on the shelves. Days researching the right chalkboard to purchase. Journeys spent gathering minerals for students to practice with: ash from a far away volcano, water from the forest river nearby, unearthed dirt from the garden, and feathers from nests settled at the peak of the tallest mountain. Aqua has a vision of this room playing the dual role of serving lectures and encouraging hands-on experimentation in a safe environment. She wants it to be respectable and impressive before the semester starts. They’re not allowed to traverse the room with shoes on, and Terra and Ven were respectable about that before one of them (Ven) started to get cocky about his fighting abilities. 

Yeah, they fucked up. “Think of it this way. We proved it’s not practical for physical training,” Terra says. 

“You’re the one who’s going to tell her that.” Ven scoffs, splaying a wet towel on the floor.

Terra pulls his suspenders over his head and lets them hang from his waistband. Pinching his stained muscle shirt off and bundling it up, he uses it as a rag to absorb the puddle on the table. What’s sinking into his socks is now warm. He ignores it.

“Do you think I could pull this off?” Ven asks as a by-the-way, twiddling a shy hand at the back of his greasy head.

“Black hair?”

“No, you’re right. It’s creepy.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Pfft, you also ‘didn’t’”—Ven bookends the word with finger quotations—“spar fairly.”

Terra considers throwing his damp shirt at Ven’s face. “I’m not at my prime yet.”

“That’s not it.” Ven flips the towel and swipes the remaining streaks with the cleaner side. “You’re holding back. You promised you wouldn’t do that anymore.”

“I’m not holding back.” He is. Just the image of raising his Keyblade against either of his friends is enough to make him nauseous, but he swallows it to be a good sport. 

Giving it his all is something else entirely, a deeper, invasive illness. 

“I know you can hit harder than that.” Ven dunks the towel in a pail of water, clouding it. 

“I just have a lot in my mind and it’s hard to... relax, I guess.”

There’s a moment of pregnant quiet before Ven says pointedly, “I thought Aqua was helping you out with that.”

A moist squish slaps Ven on the nose.

“Now you’re being sensitive,” Ven says, pulling Terra’s shirt off his shoulder.

“You missed a spot,” says Terra, using his thumb to smear the stain across Ven’s cheek. For shits and giggles he continues upward, rubbing raccoon circles on Ven’s eyelids. “You really pull this off.”

“Do you annoy her this much?”

“She enjoys it.”

“Ugggh.” Ven throws Terra’s hands off of him, his chin tucked in so much that two layers of neck skin fold over. “Gross.”

Terra pauses. Gross wasn’t what he expected out of Ven’s mouth. 

In fact, Terra hasn’t been sure of how Ven took the news the first time. 

Oh, Ven had said when they told him Aqua was moving into Terra’s room. Okay. Cool. He shrugged as if he could have heard more exciting news, and left to take a short walk in the woods with Chirithy. The three of them never spoke about it again. Ven wouldn’t mention a word when he saw them dragging her dresser and vanity table, and seldom joined them if he heard them laughing together with the door closed. 

Things are changing in minute strokes, in seconds that cluster for as long as Terra can recognize them, until they dissipate and become something not quite foreign but never quite familiar anymore, as though where he comes from is far from home and who he thinks he knows are almost-strangers.

“Have we ever made you uncomfortable?” Terra asks. 

“What, no!” Ven waves his hand, feigning shock, staring at his shoes and everywhere else but Terra. “I mean, Aqua’s been Aqua since we got back, and you’re just weird sometimes, but—”

“Then why do you...” Terra sighs, choosing his words. “Avoid us when we’re together?”

“I don’t want to interrupt.”

An almost-lie. “I hope you don’t think we don’t want you around.”

“Noooo. Neither of you make me feel that way.”

“But you do.”

Ven lifts his shoulders higher than his ears and drops them with the same weight as throwing books on the floor. “It’s just… nothing’s the same.”

Nothing is, what with the quiet mornings since the Master is no longer here to prepare breakfast before the sun rises, or huff at anyone when they disturb his meditation. Now they’re preparing the castle for the largest student body of Keyblade wielders it’s seen in years, something Terra thought would be a good distraction for everyone. 

But Ven’s right. Home doesn’t feel like home when the floors are re-tiled, and specific rooms are repainted, and the Master’s favorite lounge chair sits empty in the same spot in the library by the fireplace. Maybe for Ven, home is the turn right to knock on Terra’s door and the turn left to knock on Aqua’s. 

“It’s weird.” Ven grimaces. “I didn’t mean it that way. I’m used to talking to you about things you promised to keep from Aqua—”

“I still wouldn’t tell her anything!”

“—and I’m used to it being the three of us.”

Terra pauses. “We’re still the three of us. We’re still best friends.”

“That’s not how it works, and you know it,” Ven says, smiling warmly. “You are one half of two. You share a language I can’t butt into.” 

Terra kneels onto one knee, brushing oily hair out of Ven’s face. Aqua would have liked this look on him: less spiky. “Ven, you’re always going to be a part of our lives.”

“Stop worrying. What you have is not a bad thing. I think it’s kind of awesome. I wish you’d give it your all in a fight. I wanna see what you and her are capable of together, because it’d be huge.”

“I’m only trying to say that we don’t want you to feel like a third wheel. You’re more than welcome to knock on our door anytime—”

“Ah. No. No thanks.” He shoos Terra away. 

“Why?”

“I don’t wanna see anything.” Ven squints.

Terra snorts. “You’re not going to see—”

“I don’t wanna hear about it either.”

“But—”

“Nope.” Ven covers his ears with his palms. “Nothing. No inside jokes. No pet names. Yuck. Keep that to yourself.”

Terra presses his lips together to zip up the snickering. “Okay, I won’t say anything.”

“Good. I don’t want any images in my head.” He wipes his hands like he’s done a good job explaining himself. “I should’ve expected it anyhow.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” Ven says slowly. “I mean, the Master kinda knew.”

“He said something to you?” Terra asks with a shaky voice. He’s flipping through memories, when he and Aqua were very careful and very private, when they didn't touch each other in case there were witnesses near. He was so certain he’d suffer punishment if Eraqus ever found out. Lists of long essays about the dangers of being reckless with emotions every time Aqua made him laugh too much. Grueling physical regiments to knock discipline into his body every time he made bad decisions based on a tug between his legs. 

“I didn’t understand it at the time,” Ven says, leaning back on his hands and tapping his heels on the floor. “We were all hanging out, and you and Aqua left, and then he got sad.

“When I asked him what was wrong, he told me you guys created a very bright Light together. A Light bonded is a Light stronger, he said.” Ven mimics the Master’s lilts in speech, using his finger to emphasize points. “But be aware, Ven. Such a blinding Light casts an equally blinding, deep Shadow. What a dangerous force that is.”

It’s a good imitation. The ache in Terra’s chest twists into his guts and warms him at the same time, like a loving hug that squeezes too hard.

“Honestly it made me think you and Aqua were doing something you weren’t supposed to.”

“Maybe we were.” Terra’s throat constricts, his voice gravelly and his shame nostalgic. “We thought the same sometimes.”

“Which isn’t fair. Why can normal people experience that but it’s such a big deal if Keybearers do it?”

Because when you elevate the person you admire to a standard you can’t match, it makes you do stupid things. Aqua had followed him world after world, expecting it would eventually lead to a fight. Too many Keyblades in a friendship does no one good. 

To-may-to, to-mah-to. They did end up fighting, it just wasn’t his own Keyblade that inevitably hurt her. What a dangerous force that is.

“So the Master did not approve?” Terra asks.

“I wouldn’t say that.” Ven rubs his cheek in thought, forgetting all about the ink. “He said your combined Light looked beautiful and warm. And that you’d have many nights where it would be enough when it gets hard... Honestly, he only wished that you keep your head on your shoulders.”

Wishes asked for are wishes granted, the Master used to say, so long as you work for them. The years Terra had wished for this exact approval had only left him with space to forge false hope. Nothing major, nothing long-winded. Just a simple, impossible wish as they placed the flower wreath on his memorial and bid their goodbyes. 

Finally, that wish is fulfilled. As Ven grants it to him, it’s hard to believe or accept, sitting on the floor of what used to be a ballroom, covered in drying ink. 

“Thanks, Ven.” Tears cascade down his cheeks, pretending to be inconspicuous. He wipes them with his clean forearm but he can’t keep up. There’s one for every moment in the last twelve years when he wanted to apologize to the Master, leaving his eyes burning. “I’m sorry, I’ll stop soon.”

“S’okay.” Ven tucks his ankles under, giving Terra time to process. Ven knows when a topic is too sensitive. But he can also tell when enough time has passed for the raw cuts to seal, when everyone’s ready to laugh. It’s his special gift. Only after Terra slows down does Ven lean forward. “Did you know you make this ugly face when you cry? You’re a train wreck.”

Terra yanks Ven’s head under his arm (Oomph, grunts Ven), locking his elbow around the neck.

Ven beats on Terra’s biceps. “Let go of me.”

Terra summons his pauldron, elbow pad, and gauntlet—for good measure. He licks salt from his lips and smirks, clutching Ven more, sinking him into the pecs. 

Ven coughs. “You smell horrible.”

“Nasty-horrible or heroic-horrible?”

“Do you make Aqua sniff your armpit? Let go of me.”

A poor mistake. Ven tumbles back when he’s let go, but he grabs Terra’s shirt before his head hits the floor. He punches it into Terra’s stomach so quickly that Terra isn’t allowed time to react or block, leaving a sprawled, black bruise over his abs. 

“Put a shirt on,” Ven says when Terra can’t rub it off. “Freak.”

~*~*~*~

Their bedroom door is ajar. Terra hears the shuffling of feet. He quiets his arrival, crumpling his messed-up shirt in a fist, and leans on the door frame to watch her. Aqua pulls a book out of a stack deftly with one hand, the other carrying a cheese pastry. She swallows a final bite, licking her fingers (something she’d never do in front of anybody else but him), and meditates on the chew before sitting at her desk. 

He likes her best like this: half-dressed, without her usual corset and sashes, down to nothing else except her shirt and shorts, simple and free. 

Her longest scar creeps out of her backless shirt. A snake, a reminder of the damage Keyblades are capable of: they never heal and barely fade. This is why wielders shouldn’t raise them against people. 

Gluing her attention to an open book, Aqua reaches over for more cheese pastry, but her hand meets a plate of crumbs. When she realizes, she snaps up, alert as if she’s been robbed, glancing over her shoulder for signs of movement. This is also something she would not appreciate anyone else seeing, how she’s afraid of being alone, how she’s paranoid that she’s actually not.

Terra steps in and taps her shoulder before she could ask him what happened to the pastry. “That looked delicious.” 

She blinks, slowly absorbing his words; she doesn’t feel well today, nothing to be ashamed of. Terra says nothing else. This way, he doesn’t bring more attention to the fact. He won’t touch her so she doesn’t feel coddled (despite how much he wants to). He won’t crack a dumb joke when there’s better moments for them. This way, she keeps her dignity. 

When Aqua sees the smears and handprints on him, her eyes finally find reality. “What happened to you?” She stands up and swipes the stain on his chest. It’s dry but not enough, leaving a mark of gray on her fingers. 

“An accident.” Terra clears his throat, trying to seem unbothered. Just another day in the castle. Everyone gets covered in ink, what’s the big deal?

If she hears the hesitation in his voice (and she should, she knows him too well), she doesn’t care, marching to their bathroom. The sink turns on. 

“What kind of an accident?” she calls. The water flow is disturbed. She’s washing her own hands first. 

“Eh, we spilled some ink,” Terra says, praying to the stars she won’t interrogate further. He tosses his ruined shirt into a wastebasket and opens the first dresser drawer for another. Gone are the days when Terra used to stuff his clothes into a heap; Aqua likes to fold every single article, his on one side and hers on the other. 

“What does that mean?”

“It’s fixable, I promise.” At least he hopes there’s some magic spell in some book somewhere that could lift ink out of cracks of wood.

He goes down one drawer for pants and it’s the same story. 

Down to the middle for socks and underwear, each tightly rolled. Tucked into the back of this one are two newly purchased books, their hardcovers wrapped in plain paper so that anyone peeking in couldn’t read the titles. Edited with illustrations of anatomy, they are lectures of techniques on what to try with your partner. Where to place your hands, how to play with your fingers and tongues, how to listen, when to take it slow and when to take it fast...

“Here,” Aqua says from behind him. She has a wet rag. It’s warm as she gently rubs it into his skin, across the spread of his chest. Her other hand is splayed on his hip. 

Just the thought of those books now, of slipping her out of that shirt, the stains on his stomach be damned—

“Am I going to get mad at you?”

Be damned. Terra smirks in a way to invite her to join along with him. “At both of us. But... You never stay too angry for too long so… Why worry about it?”

She pauses. “What are you rambling about?”

“Nothing.” He glances away. “It happened in the new classroom.”

She digs the rag into the groove above the diaphragm as if contemplating his vivisection. A stream of water drips over his belly button, into the hem of his pants, down the dips of his pelvis, between his inner thighs. Let her get mad. Be damned. 

“How bad is it?” Her voice is hard.

He caresses the small of her back, which is right now tense and stretched as she makes herself seem taller, like she’s about to take him on. “You’re smart. You’ll figure something out.” She opens her mouth to say something and he kisses the bottom lip. “I’ll do the dishes for three months. That’s enough atonement, right?”

Aqua clenches her teeth into a false smile, nails now leaving divots on his skin. “And the cooking.”

“Sounds fair.”

“And the gardening.”

“Now you’re pushing it.”

She continues to clean him, this time rubbing harder. It leaves his skin lightly raw. “You’re not in any position to bargain.”

“Do you expect me to beg?” 

“Then beg.”

Terra would be lying if he says he doesn’t find this side of her hot. She’s a splash of freshwater that would bring him back from the brink. The woman standing in front of him chooses to clean him despite the shower being paces away. She’s the same girl who would plant an extra candle on his birthday cakes, for the year to come. To her, maybe it meant little or nothing. Stars, she’s beautiful, and he doesn’t say it enough. 

“You’re doing better,” she says, leveling her voice, nodding to herself as if checking her information. That’s Aqua. Putting aside her annoyance for the sake of making sure he’s taken care of. “You’re not flinching as much.”

Maybe. Her touch is absolutely making the hairs on his neck stand. It is absolutely driving his dick insane. “You know, Ven’s okay with us.”

She stops. “He said something?”

“Kind of. He doesn’t want to know or see or hear anything.”

Her eyes go wide. “Excuse me?”

“He never said he actually heard anything.” He kisses her temple and lets it linger there, taking the opportunity to inhale her smell. Even when she sweats and spars for hours, there’s still a sweetness. Terra laughs into her hair. “He doesn’t want to know nicknames, either.”

Aqua flashes him a look.

“Now we have to,” says Terra. “We don’t have a choice.”

“What should we use?” Aqua moves to his abs, fighting an amused smile that’s twisting its way to her lips. 

“Terr-able.”

“That one is awful. I think Terr-bear fits you better.”

“So you admit I’m big, strong, and scary?”

“I admit you’re adorable sometimes.”

Terra purses his lips. “What about you?”

She shrugs. “Maybe Aquamarine.”

“How about Aquafina?”

“That’s worse.”

“Babe?”

“Absolutely not.”

“We could call him Ven-tilation.”

“Stop.”

He follows his instinct to lower his head so when she laughs with him, their lips meet. They kiss everyday, but the first taste of the hour is always the one to discharge his breath, like he’s been underwater and she’s giving him the chance to surface. 

“You’re going to get me dirty,” she says, giggling into his mouth.

He moves to her neck. “A little mess doesn’t hurt anybody.”

It’s when he brushes his fingers across her back, skating over the scar, coiled like rose thorns, that he hitches. Across from them is her vanity mirror. The scar is still red despite its age of twelve years. He’s so stupid. 

“This again?” she whispers. She’s not upset but disappointed, though in him or in herself, he can’t tell. Moments like these are weird, when he can’t read what she’s thinking. Working on the straps on his left arm, she pulls off his gauntlet, finger by finger. 

“I wish you would tell me,” he whispers back, as if having the conversation at a normal volume would shake them up. 

She turns his bracer to make its removal easier. “I already did.”

“I wish you would be honest with me.” He leans his chin on her head, feeling her fingers slide down his arm. 

“I am.” She flicks a knob and slips off the couter from his elbow. “You want me to tell you it was you who did this to me,” she continues, unbuckling the pauldron on his shoulder. “But it wasn’t.”

“I know better.”

“I know better.”

“It was done with my hands.”

To that she says nothing, rubbing the rag down his exposed left bicep. Ink had run under the armor. Darkness seeps in even with protection. 

She sighs. “Promise me you won’t obsess over it.”

He really shouldn’t but… he nods.

Aqua hesitates anyway. Taking him by the wrist, she presses his right hand on the rib under her left breast. “This one was his.” She warns with her eyes. “Not yours.”

Terra can’t feel anything through her shirt. He slips it under, running the pads of his fingers across the bumps and ridges. This one was his, this one with the gnarly tear right through the middle of the scar tissue, a ravine rupturing open. This one would have been done by that nameless silver Keyblade, with its sharp, ornate frills and that giant hook at the tip of it. It would have caught her skin as it tried to disconnect her body from her heart. And Terra? He’s had so much to lose and nothing to give back.

Terra holds his Aqua close as he continues to read the scar, how deep the hook sunk in, how she must have dodged back and broke that connection. 

“Did it hurt?” he asks. 

She sighs like she finds something amusing. Or trying to. She shudders, closing what little is left of the gaps between their bodies. “The Realm of Darkness numbs everything. I don’t think I felt it much.”

The view from their window looks over blossoming fields under mist, what’s left of snow capping just the mountaintops, everything else green. She’s lucky. So is he, ridiculously enough. 

“I should have done more to stop it,” he says.

“You can’t continue to say things like that.” She swallows and stares at the wall. “What about the person I’ve become? I wouldn’t be here, standing in this room, now. It changed me. The Realm of Darkness did things to me that I’ll never be able to claim back. I will never be able to remedy it. I never wanted it, but I don’t know if I deserved it.”

“You didn’t.”

“I couldn’t make mistakes, in case I got hurt. I couldn’t be vulnerable. I had to be brave.”

“You already are.” 

“And now I’m like stone.”

Terra presses his forehead to hers. “No, you’re not like stone at all.”

Aqua buries her face into his shoulder, anchoring herself to his waist. It’s so unlike her, to be unable to look him directly in the eyes. Whatever she has to say scares her. “You’re here, and I’m here. I give you my scars and you give me yours and… I don’t know if I would trade that for something else. For something that looks better on the outside. Every moment we shared since you woke up, how could I want to erase them? I need you, Terra. I have to chip away somehow. I’m braver now, to hold you like this.”

She says it like she has her chest cavity open, heart beating to open air. 

She’s brave for not crying. 

She’s brave for telling him what she can’t say right now. I’m braver now, to hold you like this. (I love you.)

He lifts her chin to kiss her. (I loved you first.) 

She drops the rag to hold his face. 

Before, their kisses were desperate, thirsty and famished, hoping to be found. Now, they’re deliberate, wandering but not lost. She tastes like sugar and flesh, her tongue inside with his, slow and careful. Their needs have more definition this time: please, and more, and yes, again. 

Terra indulges in the impulse to press her onto him. She should feel how greedy he is, her chest arched against his. She’s soft and he’s in love. 

“Where is Ven?” she says, breathless. 

“Probably showering,” he mumbles.

She waves her hand and the door slams shut. 

“I said probably,” Terra murmurs, but his mind turns off when she kisses him again. Who cares what Ven hears?

Aqua treads slower. She tempts Terra’s tongue to seek her out, puckering her lips around it and giving it a small tug. 

“Touch me, please,” he begs.

The sound of his pants unbuttoning makes his heart hammer, his entire groin anticipating for what’s next. When, when, when. Terra closes his eyes. Her hand glides down, palm first, his breath snagging when she wraps her fingers around his erection. His pants are at his ankles, Aqua is on her knees, and she presses a kiss right under the tip, where it’s most sensitive, before licking the entire length. Terra buckles. He catches the dresser behind him to keep standing. 

“Shhh,” she breathes onto him. It shoots a spark from his stomach to his scalp. 

Terra braces his teeth with his finger to shut himself up. He watches her work. She takes him in bite-size pieces, snail-tracking with her tongue before her lips close in on him. Fuck. She sucks while she pulls. Fuck. To see her like this, Master Aqua with poise, with grace, with affection and care—with him in her mouth. The hand wrapped around him squeezes tighter, and the other comes up to meet him at the testicles. 

He stifles another moan, staring at the ripples of the drywall, listening to the feathered tap of spring rain on the window and the noise she’s making. His erection twitches against the roof of her mouth, and he has to restrain himself from thrusting into her. Maybe he can let go and let be, finally throw himself off the cliff, ride the thrill all the way. Give it his all.

But he can’t. The moment gooseflesh spreads across his inner thighs, the moment he feels full, is the start. The floor will rip out from under him, the lights will go off, he will fall, he will lose all his fingers, he won’t remember anything, he’ll be the monster who makes her cry.

“I can’t,” he hisses, pushing her off. “I can’t.” He lurches over his knees, his insides twisting at the sudden cutoff, aching as it throbs and shrivels. He was so close. They were just laughing a few minutes ago. Stupid body, stupid mind. “Damn it,” he groans, pounding the dresser.

“Hey, you’re okay,” she says softly, holding him by the elbow. “You’re safe at home.”

“It doesn’t feel that way.” He digs his eyes into his palm, his body faraway like it’s a glass vial with his soul dumped inside. “Help me.”

Without letting him go, Aqua braces him with something cold—the rag, now on his lower back. It slaps him back to the bedroom, his beige carpet, the mist outside clearing out to a view of a forest that separates the castle from the mountains. 

She greets him with a smile. “You really did something to yourself,” she says, cleaning him like it’s a lazy weekend day and there’s a list of chores. 

Terra straightens up, shivers riding all the way up to his shoulders. “It’s so frustrating.”

“Don’t worry, Terra,” she says, softer and lower. “There’s no need to rush. I’ll wait.”

“But I’m tired of feeling caged up and stuck. I just want some semblance of control.” 

Aqua kisses him on the shoulder to shoo away the haunting for a few seconds. “I’m here, anytime you need me. Would you like me to run you a bath?”

“No.” The rag is likely caked with ink, but its iciness is unlike the chill of clammy sweat a few seconds old. Every frigid touch is a reminder that he’s alive. “This is nice.”

Aqua runs the rag up his spine. “You know what I think? If we’re going to call each other pet names in front of Ven, we should have guests over.”

Terra snorts. “That’s evil.”

“He won’t be able to bark at us in front of other people.”

“I think I’m a bad influence on you.”

“I think you’re right.”

Terra sighs at her touch, cold at his neck, at his hairline. Like a light at the front porch in the dead of night, like hot tea on a sick day, she is what it feels like to come home.

She tells him, “Lean your head back a little,” and he obliges, letting her reach behind his ears. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips swollen, her hair frizzy, eyes blue and focused as she takes care of him. 

“I can still kiss you, right?” 

“You don’t have to ask.”

Tilting his chin down, he does. He braids his fingers into hers; from the rag they’re like icicles, and he brings them to his heart. 

They’re barely millimeters apart, but he’s still in that cage. If only he could be touched the way he needs. If only the lock trapping him inside the cage is brittle and easy to crumble. What if he tries to test it? What if he finds there is nothing at all? Stupid mind. What if there are several, each of them needing unique keys when he has none, no hope of ever knowing what real freedom is? Stupid body. 

Should he pretend? Should he try over and over, to slam his head against the bars each time? Should he submit, should he accept he will never have what he wants? 

Life has made him uneager to trust. But her lips have a deliciousness unmatched by anything he’s ever tasted, and he’s still a silly, stupid man.

“Let me try again,” he says, breathing deeply. “I want to make you feel good.”

She’s surprised. “Only if you’re comfortable.”

“It will make me feel better.”

“...Okay,” she says so modestly. Terra never figured out how to knock it into her head that he wants to give her everything, that he is so, so guilty.

He invites her into an embrace, growing desperate the more he detaches his mind. Her body, the curve from her waist to her hips. The brush of her body against his reminds him that while he is naked, she is not. He picks her up by the thighs. Lost in the momentum of deep kisses, he carries her to bed, straddling her on his lap.

She hums. “The… the sheets.”

Dry, messy layers of ink still track down his legs. He groans into her mouth. She’s grinding him, and while he really likes that, it makes it incredibly difficult to take her clothes off, one hand rising the hem of her shirt and the other deep under her shorts, cupping her ass. 

“Whatever, we can wash them later,” she says, lifting her arms up. 

Her bare breasts—stars, this is what it feels like to come home. 

“Kiss me,” she says, and he replies, nibbling down her neck, coming down to her breasts, where his lips and his tongue and his murmurs take in her nipples as they perk. Aqua stays quiet, leaning onto his shoulders. 

There’s something about her amazing body, the silk of skin draped over defined muscle, treasure and tenderness in his hands, that he’s needy for. Every time he tries to define what that means, his mind ceases to function. 

Xehanort tried to take it all away from him. If he lived, Terra would crush every tooth bloody. Damn him.

How dare Xehanort do this to him, lock him in this cage, keep him away from her? Damn him.

Why is he thinking about Xehanort?

“Are you okay?”

Terra is frozen, the nub of a nipple suctioned in his mouth. Oh, for fuck’s sake.

He lets her breast go with a pop. “I’m redirecting.” Leading her to the mattress, Terra lowers himself into her arms, but he’s halted by a light kiss and a hold of his face.

“Do you need me to check in on you?” she asks.

“No.” He smiles, kissing her with all the hope that she psychically understands his body is about to burst open, if only from the lack of space for the appreciation he keeps nurturing for her. “Thank you, but I’m okay.”

She nods, stroking his cheeks with her thumbs. “You take your time.”

Oh, he will. No more interruptions. Focus on the smell of her skin, on the collarbone at the base of her neck. Right here, it makes her bite her lip. On the hollow between her breasts, the sound of her breath getting heavy. On the slight movement of her legs as she instinctively responds, spreading them, hooking around his. The buoyancy of her breasts in his mouth. The way she arches to push them against his face. 

Under that left breast is the scar, tightly knitted.

The purpose for living is for memories, not reminders. Do not linger. Do not think about the cage. Terra lightly kisses it and continues downward. 

Terra’s fingers glide down, a caress at the hips, a squeeze of her ass, running a mile of goosebumps as he bunches her shorts and panties and pulls them off. Her skin is streaked with fingerprints of gray, at most of the places he’s been. Aqua shivers as his lips brush the sides of her waist, as he traces his tongue and inhales the dips of her pelvis, as he loops his arms under her thighs, as he kisses her between the legs. She gasps. He licks from bottom to top, sucking on the clitoris once, then starts over.

Footsteps walk by outside their bedroom door.

Aqua jerks up. “Terra,” she whispers, warning him.

“Hm?” Stars, what now? “Here.” He grabs the comforter and throws it over her head. She chuckles as she wraps both of them in hiding. “Relax,” he whispers back. “He’s not going to hear anything.” Not that Ven opts to stay; his footsteps are already fading away.

He goes back to work, and hears her sigh—it’s loud enough to make him look up but too hushed to escape the sheets. Bottom to top. Again. Again. She cloaks the sound of her moans with the comforter plastered on her face. 

It’s her taste. It’s the softness and suppleness of the skin between her legs. The way she fastens her knees over his shoulders, how wet she is. Her reaction. When he tongues the inside of her slit, she jerks, chewing her lip hard enough to make it white. Master Aqua, with poise and grace, for her there’s only love and the way his tongue curls up. 

Her fist crumples the sheet—it holds her own breast, caresses her stomach down to rake through his hair and hold him there. 

“Don’t stop,” she breathes.

Stars, that did it. He’s hard again. He drapes his arms over her pelvis, using his fingers to open her up so he has more access to her clit. She bucks, and he holds her down. 

Her entire body trembles: the first sign that she’s running off her own edge. 

Terra strokes her, the outside lips, the tease inside, the puckering motions. She’s a sweet, musky taste he can’t compare to anything else.

Aqua throws herself back on the pillow. Her thighs crush his head, and she clamps her hand on her mouth like a topper. Her mewl shudders and stops, it heaves, it mumbles. The wave rises then crashes, and she finishes with a long sigh, a release, a settlement, a tempered peace.

It feels so good to listen to her. Terra rests his head on her hip and brings a hand to his erection. A little bit of freedom paid with a little bit of control. 

“I’m ready,” he says. “I need you.”

She hums in contentment, fixing the comforter so they’re completely covered and opening her arms to him. “Come here.”

Terra crawls over her, bracketing her body like he’s a fort, tethering her fingers to his and cradling her head in a protective halo with his arms. Aqua has to spread her legs wide to take on his thick waist, and she breaks her kisses with whimpers when he enters—she’s always more sensitive after he goes down on her. 

She’s warm and tight, oh stars. Massaging him as he moves inside her. Their bodies compress into each other, hers curled up to mold against the way he rocks his hips, as though the subtle air between would have split them up too far, as though he can melt into her when he pushes, their hearts only separated by muscle and bone. He plants a messy kiss on her cheek, exhaling and inhaling in rhythms opposite of hers, her breath loud against his ear, tickling his neck.

Here it comes again, the oncoming of the precipice where he has to step off. 

Fuck.

He can’t do it.

At the sprint towards the edge of the cliff, he skids and scrambles to hang by the rockface. Terra grunts, all his muscles seizing up as he holds his breath.

Aqua strokes his hair. “Do you want to stop?”

Of course not. “Give me a minute.”

“Remember, you’re safe.”

Terra nearly chokes. “I’m scared of losing control.”

“You won’t. You’re in control.”

In control. The intent to wring his fingers through the bars, a sleight of hand to balance the padlock like it’s on strings, turning it over and pulling it out of the latch. But Terra is no escape artist. 

Terra licks his lips. He’s not in danger. He should trust she’ll catch him when he falls. In her arms, there’s no safer place to be. He has to remember this. Shut that mind up.

“I want to continue.” 

She rubs his back. It’s soothing. “Tell me what you need.”

Terra smirks. “To get back in the mood.” He takes one deep kiss. “Entice me.”

Her insides squeeze him and he trembles. “How is that?” she asks.

“Do it again.”

She wraps her ankles over his back and squeezes. He hums into her shoulder. 

“Again.”

This time, she takes back her kiss.

“Don’t let me go,” he says, and she hugs him tightly. 

He starts slow. Terra leans on his elbows, bunching the comforter in his fist so it stays in place. She looks at him with half-lidded eyes, a healthy red blush, her mouth gently open, cast in the filtered glow of a secret, sweaty cocoon. This body he’s thrusting into, the lips he’s kissing, may the stars bless her. 

“Aqua.”

“You feel so good.”

She stole the words right out of his mouth, squeezing his hips again. 

“Oh,” he moans. It provokes him to thrust harder, deeper, feel her, feel her breasts bouncing under him, feel her moans coming from her throat, the desperation in the way she squirms with her hands. She massages his slick back, her nails digging in.

There. 

Let him throw himself off. Give it his all.

“Don’t let me go,” he repeats.

“I won’t.”

He throws himself off. It’s not the wind thrashing him all the way down. Instead it’s fire, a combustion of flames in his muscles as his entire body submits to its force, leaving his knees weak. A flash of white that blurs everything he sees, a hurricane that knocks his mind into a stupor, a delicious burn that slicks over his body, trickling embers on top of sweat, hot and cool, good and better, good and fucking good. Terra shoves his face into her shoulder to muffle the sounds of groans escaping him, shuddering as the climax picks up again, a body alight in an ignition that throws him out of any awareness. 

His eyes prick when he finally remembers where he is. Aqua is safeguarding him with a strong hold, keeping him in place with her. He sighs. The cinders that continue to radiate heat leave him with a hearth to wrap himself into, a happiness that he never thought he would ever feel again.

Aqua sniffs. She wipes tears onto his shoulder.

“We really should stop crying at these things,” he says.

She snorts, refusing to let her grip on him slack. “You did amazing. How are you feeling?”

“I’m…” he mumbles. Stars, wow. His arms can’t pick him up anymore but it’s a gratifying cloud to ride. He shifts his legs, alleviating the weight of his body. “A little weak.” 

She runs a hand on the back of his head, coaxing him to rest on her chest. “When did you know?” she asks, brushing hair off his damp forehead. “That you wanted to kiss me? You must have spent some time thinking about it before it happened.”

Terra smiles into her chest. Somehow, they’ve never talked about it. “Long after I knew I was going to marry you.”

He feels her laugh. “Is that so? I’m going to marry you?”

“You will.” He looks up at her grinning face. “I can see the future.”

She scoffs. “You can see my eyes rolling at you.”

“I knew before you did.”

“Prove it.”

“I was seven.”

“You’re older than me, that doesn’t count.”

“You asked me to have a tea party with you, but the one thing that bothered you most”—he brings up his hand, pinky out—“was that I wasn’t drinking my tea right.” He mimics the high pitch of a little girl’s voice. “Pinky out. Pinky out, Terra, don’t be a slob.”

She gapes. “I don’t remember any of that.”

With renewed will, he props himself up, leaning close so their noses touch. “I knew then. That early on.”

“Since when is this a competition?”

“Still the first to know.”

Aqua interrupts what she’s about to say, like she’s about to step into cold water. She’s having an epiphany. Vulnerable again, like she’s allowing him to cut her right down the middle. 

“I love you.”

She says it like the touch of a high note on a piano, a beautiful accident. 

He leans closer, lips to lips, whispering, “I still got there first.” 

She laughs into him. “I suppose, but I was the first to say it.”

“Then I’ll be the second,” Terra says. Like coming home, a shelter to withstand the downpour, that births life to the roots, that thunders, that opens for a clear day, he brushes her hair out of her eyes. “I love you.”

“Too,” she corrects. “You love me, too.” 

A knock on their door jolts them, like a hard punch to the stomach.

“Okay, Terra,” Ven says from the other side. “I thought about it and I’m trying out this knocking thing.”

Wrong timing. Wrong timing.

“I’m going to kill him,” Terra hisses, and against Aqua’s hushed chuckles, he throws the comforter off their bodies and announces, “Ven, we’re naked.”

The silence that comes after is as loud as the crash of a chandelier. Terra can feel Ven recoil, a tea pot at the verge of whistling. “I didn’t need to know that!” Terra is about to reply but Ven groans dramatically. “I AM NEVER GOING TO KNOCK ON YOUR DOOR AGAIN.”

Ven stomps away, and if the door was actually open, he’d slam it. 

Terra sits on his knees, pinching his nose. It’s hot in this room. He feels clogged again, back at the edge of the cliff. He wants to strangle Ven for dragging the moment away from him. “Great, I pissed him off.”

“Poor Ven.” When she sits up, Terra pulls her to him, sitting her on one of his thighs. “I can’t predict if he’ll ever get over that,” she says, balancing herself by hooking her arms around his neck. 

Terra presses his lips to her ear, whispering, “But I did predict that you wouldn’t stay mad at me for long.”

She slaps his bicep. “I haven’t seen what you’ve done yet. Don’t be so proud of yourself.”

“But I am.”

“You’re still a slob.”

Slobby as he is, Aqua hugs him dearly. Hold her, you never know when the dream will end. You never know when the cage takes you back.

“I don’t know if,” Terra says, “it will be difficult for me next time.”

“Then it may be difficult,” Aqua says, kissing his forehead. “But it will be okay.”

Hold her. Not passively. Not half-minded. Hold her tightly. Hold her in the quiet, undisturbed, uninterrupted.

A drop of hot liquid spills from between her legs and drips down his thigh, almost burning. When Terra looks down to see that it’s white, Aqua jumps.

“Oh,” she squeaks.

“Oh. That would be me.”

She squeals, hiding her blush. “I’m going to wash up.” 

“Such a slob.”

Aqua giggles, looking him in the eye when she rubs his chest. “Come with me?”

“Go ahead.” He kisses her. “I’ll catch up.”

If anyone told him twelve years ago that hope feels like a long day full of small conversations, the anticipation of cleaning a messy room, Terra would have considered that cynical. A sarcastic joke, the loss of the will to dream. 

Twelve years later, it’s the sound of the shower running that teaches him to look forward to the next day, when he wakes up next to her, when he prepares dinner with her, when he kisses her in the middle of the night and play all over again. Peace is a long-distance acquaintance, a pen pal that urges you to look at your day like a spectacle.

Terra leans back to twist the latch of the window open, letting the spring haze billow in. Much better, the room is cooler now. The sky is bluer somehow, the mountains as grand as a painting.

[alistair-phoenix]

Prompt #8: Adroit

Tales of the Wayfaring Mage

Dwarves

Depending on who you ask, you will either have a positive or negative response. Loud drunks with rocks for brains or brilliant metalworkers with hearts of gold and livers of steel.

But after a hard day's work, they settle down over a pint... or keg. A sort of experience of camaraderie you wouldn't find anywhere else. Anyone that has either fought or worked alongside dwarves are treated like brothers and sisters of their own.

Arm wrestling matches were a favorite pastime for the miners. Most strength tests were. That and drinking. ---

Another day had passed for the mining crew and it was time to relax until next time. A small group of dwarves approached their Bar in the Wall with an amber-eyed human in tow.

“Not bad fer a gangly beanstalk's first month down 'ere.” One dwarf with red beard elbowed the human's side. “Didn' hafta pick up any slack in th' last week. Progress!”

Another dwarf that had a blonde beard laughed, “Aye, an now e's got sum meat on 'is bones. Ain't no beanstalk no more.”

A dwarf with a brown beard shook his head, “Nope, e's more a, cornstalk now, aye? Aye?”

The group as well as the human laughed as they approached a table.

“I tell ya what, son, ye certainly surprised me.” The black bearded dwarf smirked at the human. “A whole lot o' us didn't think ye'd last down 'ere. Goin’ back t' yer namby pamby nobleman's life from dust in yer eyes.”

“Surprised th' lot o' us.”

“Sure did.”

“Who'd 'ave thunk!”

The human smiled at the dwarves and their words. “We are most glad that we were able to exceed expectations.”

All of the dwarves looked at each other and snorted at the response, one even thumbing to the human, and all with smirks on their faces.

“Now if only ya'd drop th' fancy talk.” The red-bearded dwarf smacked the table with his hand before turning to the barmaids. “Need a couple mugs o' ale 'ere!”

“Please.” The human quickly added afterwards, which got a laugh out of the other dwarves.

“Least one o' yas got some manners.” The dwarven barmaid teased before turning to the taps.

Once the dwarven miners pulled up a chair, the blonde-bearded dwarf turned to Alistair. “Alright, lad. This time, yer gonna drink like th' rest o' us.”

“Pardon?” The amber-eyed man questioned as he sat down in a chair that was slightly out of spec with his size.

“Ye heard 'im, lad! Drink with yer brothers!” The brown-bearded dwarf answered. “After all yer hard work, why wouldn't ye?”

“Well...” The human had trouble trying to gather his thoughts.

“Don't even try t' talk yer way out of it.” The black-bearded dwarf interrupted. “Ye've been flakin' out on drinkin' with th' guys since ya first got here. Ye only drink one mug! Not nearly enuff.” He smacked the table with his fist. “Ye even miss out on arm wrestlin', too! Can't 'ave that either! Yer workin' with us!”

“But... you are stronger than us.” The defeatist human tried to excuse himself.

“That's quitters talk!”

“Milksop!”

“Come off it!”

The dwarves continued to poke fun at the human until the red-bearded dwarf smacked the table one more time. “Alright, lads, let's not give th' nobleman a hard time. He's obviously above our cultural traditions. Let 'im sit it out.”

This comment did not go unnoticed by the only human at the table. Such words stirred within his heart and mind, irritating him the more he sat on it.

“Alright, lads, ale's 'ere!” The barmaid approached with a serving tray held aloft, cutting off any more jabs at the human patron.

With a loud cheer, the group tended to their mugs with fervor as though it would be the last mug they would drink in a while. Meanwhile, the human watched his consumption as well as plotting something in the back of his mind.

---

After everyone had been through 3 mugs of ale, the revelry truly began. A couple of them started singing songs with others clapping along. More dwarves had even started showing up to join in after work. Soon there were dwarves dancing about and arm wrestling matches all around. The place was filled with merriment and joy.

“Say, boy!” The red-bearded dwarf from earlier approached the human, sitting across from him. “Come on. Ya gotta, do it.” He placed his elbow on the table and raised his arm along with his brow. “Come on! Show me what ya got!”

Some of the other dwarves nearby tugged and shoved the man around in a light roughhousing manner.

“Come on!”

“Do it! Do it! do it!”

“Give it a shot!”

The human sighed and squared up, putting his elbow on the table. “Fine. I can try.” He lifted his arm and he gripped the dwarf's hand.

The spectating dwarves cheered, some even laughed as though already expecting a certain result. Another dwarf placed his hand over the competitor's hands and looked between the two.

“Ready!?” He looked between the two.

Both the dwarf and human competing tightened their muscles, waiting for the moment to start.

“Go!”

The dwarf and human both started pushing against the other either with all or some of their strength. The dwarf did not appear to be using much of their own muscle to hold the human back. In fact, once he found out how much stronger, he decided to get cocky.

He let the human struggle to push his hand to one side only for him to push back to center. He was just going to mess with the human a bit before he could snatch his clear victory.

“Oh, so close.” The dwarf taunted before pushing back and slowly being pushed against. “Oh no, I think... I lost me strength.” He stopped his arm just half way. “I think I could use some more ale.”

The human struggled but never gave up trying in spite of everything. They were a part of the spectacle and he was the fool. But... he would be a fool no longer.

Suddenly the dwarf found his eyes watering up, an urge was rising within him. It felt like something was rubbing against his eye. He wanted to dig it out but he was still stuck in his arm wrestling match. He couldn't afford to rub his eye now!

Within that instant, the human swiftly pushed their hand down, the back of the dwarf's hand met the table.

Silence reigned around the table.

…

“Did we win?” The human asked as he slowly released his opponent's hand, dumbstruck as everyone else.

A loud cheer erupted all around them. Several of the dwarves were shoving the human around and giving rough pats on the back.

“Got somethin' in me eye...” The red-bearded opponent raised his hand to rub the corners of his eyes. “I think? But yeah, ya won. But don't let it go t’ yer head!”

The amber-eyed man laughed and waved his hand dismissively. “Promise not to.” However, he did not have the heart to tell him he cheated a bit. He had magically accumulated dust as well as dirt and gradually pushed them into the dwarf's eyes.

However, once that match was over, more dwarves wanted to challenge the human that bested a dwarf in arm wrestling.

The boy needed to figure out new clever methods and quickly...

[zmayadw]

Hello to all :)

Time for the next part!

Wish you all a wonderful evening! :)

CALL OF THE RAVEN

PART 13

We continued enjoying our time, as Aurora got more crowded with people. At some point Cleo showed up, coming to say hi to us, as she was here to meet with Hannah and the others . She had one drink with us before going to sit with them, telling how she is bussy helping her mom at the Gates of Hope with redecorating and other stuff, but she hopes all will be done soon, so we can finaly meet in peace. As it got more crowded with people, Phil was busy and also didnt have much time to have fun with us. Jessy was in a quite good mood, joking and drinking, it was nice seeing her like that.The music playing was good. There was a mixture of everything, from 80's till present day. A song started and Jessy grabbed my hand „Ohhh, lets dance, Maya, i love this song!“ I had no chance to say anything, as Jessy lead me half way to the dance floor already. She started dancing, and i couldnt do anythign but join her. And we had fun. I needed this, i tought, just some simple fun with good friends. Dan joined us from time to time, showing off his killer dancing skills. Phil was passing by us few times, going to one of the booths or tables, always winking at me with that devilish grin of his. One of the times, as Jessy and me wer dancing Phil came from behind me, wraping his free hand arround my waist and squeezing agains me. We just moved with the rhythm of the music for a while, before he groaned at my ear „Arghh, as much as i would love to stay here with you gorgeous, but work is calling.“ I grined at him, as he let go of me slowely „Aww, next time then.“ As much as i liked it, i hoped Jake didnt see this. I wouldnt want him to get the wrong idea about Phil and me. I really wanted to know where i stand with him, but this noncomunication between us wasnt helping. Lily told me to be patient, but as i told Jessy, my patiance is running short. I leaned to Jessy telling her i need to go sit down for a while, and we returned at the bar. Dan and Thomas wer there talking, and both got up from the stools letting us sit as we came. Thomas smiled at us „You two really got it going on tonight.“ He turned to Dan saying teasingly „You better be careful,man, and keep her close to you“ He pointed at Jessy „They wer smoking hot on the floor, dont let someone steel her.“ Jessy grined at Thomas „Let him sweat a little, he might appriciate me more then.“ „Awww, babe, dont be cruel, you know i appriciate you.“ Dan told her, being dramatic as always, making a puppy face. „Ohh, shus it, you big goof, and lets dance.“ She told him, taking him by the hand to the dance floor. Thomas turned to me „So, can i presume all is good between Lily and you now?“ „I guess you can.“ I told him, and he smiled „Thats good to heare.“ A waiter came with two drinks, handing them to Thomas. „Guess then soon we can all get together again, without any drama.“ „Definatly!“ i said, smiling. He smiled back „Good. Well, have fun, Maya, see you arround.“ I waved at the waiter asking for a mineral water, i was really thursty from all the dancing. I checked my phone, it was after 3, and i noticed a missed call sign. I opened the call log, and when i saw it was another of those hidden numbers, my mood darkened all of a sudden. What is going on here, i touhgt, thess calls are starting to get me worried. Jessy and Dan returned from dancing, and i decided i had enough for the night. This thing shook me up good, and i doubted i could enjoy the evening anymore. I told Jessy i'd be going, to wich she protested a bit, but hugged me and said to call her for coffee any time im up for it. I took my things, waving them goodby. As i was near the entrance, i saw Phil, so i waved at him, he winked and made a phone gesture with his hand, suggesting we'll be talking soon.

As i left the Aurora, cool night air washed over me, so i put my jacket on. I got to my car,  just leaning on the side of it, my mind still thinking of those damn calls. They are starting to freak me out a bit, and that sinister feeling started to creep up to me again. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath, when a voice said „Are you ok?“ I opened my eyes, seeing Jake standing infront of me. I managed to barely make a smile at him „Yeah, im fine.“ He was looking at me, those deep eyes scaning every inch of my face, like he knew what i said wasnt true. „Just tired, i guess.“ I added, giving him a bit bigger smile, wich seemed to make him belive me. He leaned on the car next to me, and we just stood there in silence for a while. I get restless every time im close to him, my hands itch to just grab him and pull him closer. „You look good, by the way.“ He said after a while, giving me a shy look. His words snaped me from my fantasizing, and  i smiled and winked at him „Thanks, glad you noticed.“ „Ofcourse i did, i do have eyes, you know.“ He said teasingly. I turned towards him making a gesture of bevilderment as i said „Oh my, he can joke!“ „I try my best.“ He said, smiling. Oh that beautiful smile, i tought again, making me smile, too. „You going back in?“ he asked. „No.“ I started „I'm actualy contemplating should i walk or drive back to the motel.“ „And how's that going for you?“ he asked, raising an eyebrow at me. „Well, considering im still standing here doing non of the above, i would say not good.“ I replied, sighing desperatly. He chuckled at me „Hmm, well, how about I drive you back to the motel?“ I looked at him surprised, not really expecting it „You would do that?“ He smiled shyly at me „I would“ pausing a bit, before adding „For you.“ My heart started beeting like crazy, and i could feel heet comming to my cheeks. This night really is interesting. „Umm, well, sure, i'd like that.“ I told him. „But, you dont mind walking back again?“ i asked. „No, its fine.“ „Alright then, lets go.“ I told him, taking my keys out of my purse handing them to him. Our palms touched as i gave him the keys, and our eyes met. He moved his hand slowly away, taking the key, giving me goosebumps. I barely glued myself of the car to let him get in. I got in myself as he started the car and we drow from the Auroras parking. It wouldnt take us long to the motel, and i wished the ride wasnt that short. I noticed he was driving slower then you would normaly drive, as if sharing my toughts himself. I felt nervous, my head was blank, i didnt know what to say. All of a sudden, a tought crossed my mind. „Hey, Jake, can i ask you something?“ „Sure.“ He said, sounding relieved the awkward silence got broken. „Well, i just tought, i havent had a chance to ask you before. Wern't you in some kind of trouble, if im not mistaken?“ i paused before continuing. „I mean, we never discussed it any further. And since you're here at Duskwood for quite some time now already, i was just wondering what's up with all that.“ „You're right“ he started, glancing shortly at me, focusing back on the road „Short version: lets say i made a deal with some people, making sure i'll be left at peace.“ „A deal“ i started „You didnt threaten anyone, or something like that?“ „What?“ he said, „Ofcourse not! What made you ask that?“ „Hey, its a legit question.“ I told him, rising my hands up. „You can understand why a tought like that might cross my mind.“ He was silent for a moment before saying „Ok, fair enough. But, no, i didnt threaten anyone, if that makes you feel better.“ „It does. I just dont want for things to get complex for you again.“ I said, adding after a little pause, my voice getting a bit sadder „Or you dissapearing again.“ He looked at me with such tenderness, slowing the drive even more now „Dont worry, Maya, i'm not going anywhere.“ I smiled at him „Good.“ He turned his head, focusing on the road again, and i realized we came at the motel. He parked close to my room. Neither of us was eager to leave the car, so we just sat there in silence for a moment. I had a felling he wanted to say something, but wasnt sure about it. I finaly managed to force myself to leave the car. I was about to pull the door handle, when Jake suddenly said „Wait.“ I turned towards him. „Can i ask you something now?“ „Sure“ i said, even tho i had a feeling i wouldnt really like the question. He got all nervouse, but finaly asked „You and Phil.. is there something happening?“ Oh,no,no,no, i tought, why he had to ask it. The night would end perfectly without this. I groaned pleadingly at him „Ugh, can we not talk about Phil now, please.“ „Why not?“ he asked, and i noticed his nervousness intensifing. „Because i dont know what to tell you, Jake.“ „How about the truth?“ he said. „I cant do that.“ He looked at me confused „Why not?“ „Because i myself dont know what the truth is.“ I groaned, leaving the car. He left the car, closing the door and walking over to me handing me the keys „What do you mean?“ „I mean, i'm a mess, Jake.“ I started „I dont know what to think any more. You want the truth? Fine. Yes, i like Phil, i cant denie it. We clicked, i feel good arround him, thats the truth.“  My words  stung him, and he barely managed to say „I see.“ He leaned with his back against the car, steadying himself. But i wasnt finished yet. „And then there's you, Jake“ i started, my voice full of compassion and tenderness. He looked at me, his eyes meeting mine. „I like you, too. I like you so much, that it hurts.“ I paused a bit before i continued. „Im drawn to you like a magnet, i cant pull off. But, its like, every time the magnets are about to connect, one switches polarity and the other is thrown aback. Its driving me insane! With Phil, everything flows easy. But with you, its everything but easy.“ „Maya, i know i'm not the easiest person..“ he started to say, but i held my fingers to his lips, not leting him speak.They wer so soft and warm, i had to focuse hard on what i wanted to say. „I know, its not easy for you to open up, to let people in. I get it. And i know i said i can wait, that i'll be patiente. But my patiance is fading. I dont know how much longer i can go on like this, Jake. Its tearing me up inside.“ As i said it, i leaned my forehead to his, putting both of my arms to his chest,leaning against him. We just stayed like that for a while. Being this close to him, and the warmth of his body radiating - i felt serene. His heart was beeting fast, probably matching mine. I could stay like this forever, i tought, but i needed to continue. I was waiting for this, to finaly tell him what was on my mind. „I need to know what might be of us.“ I said „If there even exists the posibility of 'us'.“ We stayed like that for a while more, non of us daraing to move or speak, before i slowely pulled away from him. I sighed „You dont have to say anything now. Just, think about what i said. You know where to find me if you want to talk.“ I leaned to him, giving him a kiss on the cheek „Good night, Jake. Thanks for the ride.“ I turned walking slowly towards my room, when i heard him say „Good night, Maya, sweet dreams.“ I turned back, not stopping in my steps, giving him one more smile, him smiling back. I hoped me opening up like this will make him finaly understand the depths of my feelings. I knew there was a posibility he might not feel the same, but i didnt care of it now. I did what i could, i told him how i feel, now he holds all the cards. I unlocked my door and entered the room, kicking my boots off, throwing myself on the bed. What an interesting night it was, i tought smiling, covering myself with blanket and letting sleep take over me.

[renegade-skywalker]

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2  / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 / Chapter 12 / Chapter 13 / Chapter 14 / Chapter 15 / Chapter 16 / Chapter 17 / Chapter 18 / Chapter 19 / Chapter 20 / Chapter 21: Homecoming

After years in exile, ex-Jedi General, Eden Valen (now going by Vale) continues to clean up after Revan and Malak’s mess of a war, only to find herself forever cursed with their unfinished business. As an ill-fated lead brings her to Tatooine, Eden finds that Revan’s mysterious plans go beyond the Republic, beyond the Outer Rim, and into the utter unknown. (A novelization of The Sith Lords and beyond)

Chapter Summary: Atton returns to a changed Peragus, fearing now for his life as well as his record, and Brianna catches Atris up to the Exile's whereabouts.

Also found on AO3 | fanfiction.net

3951, Peragus Mining Facility Atton

Atton's body ached. One and all.

First it was his head. A typical headache that soon blossomed into a full-blown migraine, and one the likes of which even the most hungover version of himself could not fathom surviving. And then it was his chest. It wasn't a respiratory ache, but a skeletal one. AS if he'd been kicked in the sternum at full force, the ribs beneath cracking in on themselves like an accordion, and while the medic assured him that he had nothing but a dislocated shoulder and some bruising from where he hit the wall on first impact, he felt as if each of his bones had been stomped on, chewed up, spit out, and hastily gathered back together before being glued and taped haphazardly, hoping for the best. His legs were still jelly, but they felt better than the rest of him, and for that he was thankful.

"Just another lap around the medbay and we should be good for the afternoon," his medic assured him, her mask of a smile having quickly become his new normal.

No other survivors came to join Atton in this wing of the medbay, and while Atton was thankful for the alone time, there was something about it that irked him. Especially seeing how on-edge his attendant was, how her eyes always seemed to be on alert despite the put-upon warmness she'd conjure while in his presence, trying to save face in a valiant attempt at bedside manner.

"You're already miles ahead of where you were a few days ago," she laughed, this time sounding genuinely pleased. "You might even be allowed back to work in about a week, if you're lucky."

Lucky. Atton agreed he would be lucky enough to go back to work, even if it killed him. But his attendant didn't know his sins enough to condemn him to the death that would certainly grant him, and he knew the comment was all part of her charade to make everything going on sound normal. If he was reading her facial expressions correctly, she believed that no one should be put back to work on this rock, at least not until the mysterious accidents stopped entirely. Judging by the look in her eyes and despite her forced smiles, she believed the facility should likely be evacuated completely, if anything, and Atton would have to agree. Not that he'd want anyone to know that.

"You sure about that, doc?" he joked, trying to act polite, trying to act normal. If keeping his head down before was hard, trying to act like the guilt of being a lone survivor wasn't eating away at him was another job entirely, and Atton wasn't sure he could keep it up much longer.

"Positive," she said, her brown eyes locking with his for a moment, her confidence shining through for once, even if she felt no one should be here at all, under any circumstances. But perhaps this was as much a show for him as it was for her, an elaborate farce meant to convince herself that it was worth staying here, if not for the pay but for the mere fact that management had them all trapped here until the next fuel shipment was set to leave the station in a standard week. "Wanna venture down the hall?"

"Sure, yeah, let's do it," Atton said, immediately trying not to shake his own head out of embarrassment for himself after he spoke, hoping he didn't sound as dumb as he felt. "You think I'm ready?"

"Psht, how will you know if you don't at least try?"

Well, damn. She's right.

Atton nodded, still feeling foolish as he allowed his medical attendant to stand him on his own two feet while she reached for the door's console to open it. She reached awkwardly forward, trying to keep hold of his torso in case he leaned too far left or two far right without assistance, and pressed her palm to the door's panel, the durasteel sliding out of place to allow them access beyond with a pleasant swish. The air hit Atton's face as if he were walking outdoors for the first time, and though he was still only exposed to the same old re-circulated air of Peragus' less-than-fresh ventilation system, it felt still felt like he was encroaching on new territory as he was led out of the primary medical wing and into the annex, where the more serious cases were often held.

The medbay was emptier than when he'd arrived, thankfully, but it still felt oddly hollow, lonely almost.

"Doing okay?" his attendant asked after a few paces. He remembered another medic calling her Yara, but he still felt strange referring to her as such, though part of him felt that she had introduced herself at some point but Atton simply failed to remember, either because of the drugs or the supposed concussion he suffered back in the rec hallway.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good," Atton said, though his voice was stuck somewhere in the middle of his throat as he chalked up the strength to make every step beyond the open doorway, as if he were learning to walk again for the first time. He imagined it wasn't much different - smaller legs, maybe, but the feeling just as jelly-like.

"Now, just turn this corner here," she eased as Atton inevitably leant into her as they made a wide right turn into the adjoining hall, "Aaand we're clear."

He could feel her smile beside him, forced as usual, and especially so as the ICU loomed into view. From past experience, he knew the door to this room was not often left ajar, but now attendants raced in and out of it, reading datapads as they went, unable to waste any time walking that they could spend reading patient charts and calculating life-saving doses of Maker-knows-what.

When Atton first arrived, all the kolto tanks in the ICU were full. Each of them housed a miner, some still clad in their uniforms - the suit still fused to their skin in some cases. But there was one woman in the middle, clad only in the outfit-issued undergarments all miners were given, only she was wearing a set from a couple years back. Not too revealing, but revealing enough to expose the scars on her forearms, her weathered hands. A veteran, no doubt, though her face still seemed a bit too young for that to be the case, her sharp features framed by the black hair floating in the kolto fluid… or maybe it was brown? No, dark blonde-

Atton watched the woman from the corner of his peripheral vision as they walked the length of the hall, trying to glimpse at her silhouette from beyond the other busied medics that paid no attention to him or anything occurring beyond their data pads.

"Will they be okay in there?" Atton asked, his eyes never leaving the dark-haired woman in the center, even if his gaze wasn't exactly direct. Part of him almost felt embarrassed to look, bashful that he was even interested in who she might be if not a miner, but another part of him was simply too pained to look far enough in her direction to get a good enough look, his neck still stiff after the explosion.

"For the moment," his attendant admitted, "I'm still checking on them here and there, when I'm not looking after your sorry ass."

Atton paused, unsure if she was being serious or if this was her idea of a joke.

"I'm kidding," she said, though there was hardly a look of mirth on her face, "You only need to worry about yourself, hotshot. I'm not sure if anyone else will give a damn once you're dismissed."

"Dismissed?"

This time, she laughed, though more out of exhaustion than actual pleasure.

"Dismissed from medical leave," she confirmed, the laugh still pleasantly flavoring her voice even as it faded, "Once you're okayed to go back to work."

"Oh," Atton said dumbly, catching one last glance of the mystery woman in the ICU. "Right."

By the time Atton thought of speaking again, they were already back at his usual resting place, still void of any other patients, though Atton knew they were plenty.

"Any word on when I can at least start taking walks on my own?"

"As soon as your chart says so," she said, giving him a stern look though smiling despite it, "Though I have a feeling it will be soon, so don't worry."

She smiled wide enough that her eyes were barely slits, only Atton knew she wasn't smiling - not really.

"Sounds good," he said, attempting a smile in return, though knowing he failed despite the fake gesture.

"I'll be back tomorrow," the medic assured him from over her shoulder as she exited the room, the worry fast returning to her face as she approached the exit, "See you then."

"See you."

Yara. Her name is Yara. He wasn't sure why it mattered, or why he was so reluctant to say her name, to thank her. Likely because he didn't think he deserved to be alive, for one, and likely because a part of him felt that they would never see each other again.

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3951 BBY, Dantooine Mission

It had been four years since Mission last stepped foot on Dantooine. As they descended the loading ramp, part of her was instantly transported back to that first time at Nevarra's side, eager as ever to be off Taris. But another part of Mission was hopelessly lost as she came face-to-face with the tall vegetation whistling around her, trying to make heads or tails of the place that resembled nothing of what she remembered.

"Does any of this look familiar to you?" Mission asked above the din of the ships' dying engine, her eyes squinting against the unyielding yellow-orange of the setting sun, "I thought this was supposed to be the main docking bay."

She was nearly yelling now as Zayne's piece of junk aircraft struggled to settle despite having already landed, the motors still running.

"That's what I thought," Zayne answered, coming up behind her, grabbing part of the landing module on the side of the ramp for support, struggling against the rush of air still whirring from the engine exhaust, his mop of hair obscuring his face entirely. "Why does it look so barren?"

Mission held up her right hand as a visor to better scan the horizon. This seemed to be the right place when they'd landed. From above, they could see the clearing set aside for the docking bay set not too far from a cluster of buildings, though it certainly all looked larger from the air, and the grass far less imposing from the top down.

"There," she said, pointing towards a large structure to their left, "I think that's one of the main settlements we saw before landing. I actually think we're outside the Jedi Temple, not beside it."

Mission recalled questioning the farmers here, residents that had claimed these rolling hills for millennia as they used it as their defense in what she remembered was a hard-boiled murder case - but her memory couldn't have been right about that, could it? It seemed so heavy in retrospect yet it was the memory that stuck. But even back then, the grass wasn't this tall. Sure, it was tall enough to hide the bulk of the property from outsiders, but it wasn't enough to dwarf the main dwelling entirely. The growth around them was certainly not intentional, and Mission felt strange as she further descended the ramp and walked into the grass in full, submerging herself as if in water.

"Hey Big Z, can you see anything?" she asked over her shoulder, sensing her long-time companion approach from behind, his familiar scent an anchor to both her past and present.

Zaalbar approached Mission with his usual lumbering stride, still a good head taller than the rest of them, though the grasses still shrouded his view in parts. He only nodded down at her after a moment, confirming her earlier report.

"Really? Just the one building, yeah?"

The more she stood on tiptoe, the more she recognized this specific valley, but the more the location registered the less it made sense. When they'd last been here, the main docking bay was adjacent to the Jedi Temple itself. The one they just landed in was more than several miles away, and in the middle of what had previously been open farmland and rolling hills. There was no other landing bay in sight when they landed. Whatever she had known before was gone entirely.

"I guess I'm surprised it's even still standing," Mission said softly, though she knew her voice wasn't audible over the still-dying engines. After a moment, she felt Big Z rest a hand on her shoulder, the sentiment translating regardless.

"I guess I didn't realize just how much damage Darth Malak really wrought on this place," Zayne muttered from nearby, still grasping the loading gear, though now it seemed to be out of an emotional need than a physical one.

Malak. In uttering his name alone, Mission was truly transported back in time. Even in their pursuit of her current whereabouts, Nevarra instantly became Revan in Mission's mind - though in memory only, not in spirit. Mission only ever knew the woman as Nevarra, insisting that she continue to call her such even long after their collective revelation. But the weight of Nevarra's past came back in full at the mention of Malak, once Revan's best friend and confidante, though Mission only ever knew him as a villain. It occurred to her now that Zayne had perhaps known the man too, being a Jedi and all, but also in the way he spoke his name, emphasizing the Darth moniker rather than the Malak end of it.

The engines were still sputtering to a halt when Asra appeared at the mouth of the ship, her eyes mere slits to sheild against the sharp winds whistling through the grasses in their direction.

"Not as formal as I expected," Asra said, the Togruta putting on airs as she forced a smile while descending the ramp. "Is that supposed to be our welcome party?"

Just beyond the field of grass was a dilapidated wall encircling an outdated console, and standing guard beside it and equally ancient was a rusted-silver protocol droid, growing copper at the hinges, twitching as it looked in their collective direction.

Asra and Mission locked eyes, shrugging in unison before they both waded through the shorter though still knee-high grasses over to the droid, casting wary glances about them as they went.

Zaalbar and Zayne weren't far behind. Once Asra and Mission cleared the grass and set foot on smooth stone, still cracked in places enough to let the weeds push through, the droid ambled toward them, eager for interaction.

"Greetings and good day, traveler. On behalf of the Khoonda settlement, I am programmed to welcome you to Dantooine."

"Oh, is that all?" Mission said, chuckling darkly through her sarcasm, "Can you tell us what this Khoonda even is?"

"Gr-Greetings! Greetings and good day, traveler. On behalf of the Khoonda settlement, I am programmed to welcome you to Dantooine."

Zayne and Zaalbar approached beside them, eyes questioning as the droid drawled on, twitching unnervingly as it went.

"Oh boy," Asra muttered, rubbing the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger, "Is this one of those protocol droids that needs a specifically worded prompt in order to function or is this one just busted?"

"Greetings!"

"Busted, it looks like," Mission sighed, "Guess we should just head to the settlement we saw, right? Take our chances?"

"I am programmed to welcome you to Dantooine."

"Probably our best bet," Zayne replied, eyes already squinting against the horizon to find their directive again, "I remember this hunk of junk. Damn thing hardly worked then, and I doubt it works now. I'm honestly surprised it hasn't been scrapped for parts."

"You remember this thing?" Asra asked, her eyes scanning the droid from top to bottom as if searching for any kind of remarkable feature.

Zayne didn't respond at first. Instead he studied the ruined walls that surrounded this sorry excuse for a landing pad, as if he recognized where they'd been salvaged from, as if he knew every minute detail that had altered this planet in the last ten or so years since he'd last been here. Of course he does.

"Not sure if the others told you, but I don't just have Jedi friends. I used to be one, too. Well, sort of."

Asra watched him for a beat, something akin to pity painting her face as she mulled over a reply.

"I'm sorry," she said after a while, her voice quiet, "Knowing what happened here and all."

"Thanks," he mumbled, his eyes locking with Mission even though he was answering Asra. Mission knew Zayne had formally trained on Taris, not Dantooine, but Taris had unfortunately met the same fate. Mission figured Zayne hadn't been back there yet, either.

"Don't worry about it, let's just keep moving."

"Random building it is, then," Asra resigned as they changed course, now faced with the taller grasses as they pushed onward.

"Any word from your friends?" Mission asked after a few quiet moments as she caught up with Zayne. A ghost of her old crush came rushing back as he glanced over his shoulder at her, a familiar warmth returning to his eyes as he quelled a smile.

"Not yet, though I expected the radio silence. They mentioned running into some trouble here after they'd landed and made camp, but nothing they couldn't handle."

"Trouble?" Mission echoed.

"Rural political stuff, local drama, that sort of thing," Zayne said, shaking his head, not worried or at least trying to act like it, "I didn't get the details, but it sounded more like a nuisance than any real trouble. Or at least, I hope so."

Mission suddenly felt bad even asking, biting her tongue before she could say anything else.

Big Z rumbled beside her, a comforting growl she was used to hearing whenever she got too deep in her own thoughts.

"Thanks, buddy," she murmured, glancing at him as he paved through the grass making way for the rest of them, hoping Zayne didn't hear or catch on as he fell a few paces behind.

"You sure Orex is okay holding down the fort?" she heard Zayne ask Asra after a few quiet beats.

Through the grass, Mission saw the silhouette of Asra shrug in response, confident as ever.

"Orex can hold down anything, though I'm sure he's antsy to get off that ship if that's what you're asking."

"How long have you known him, anyway?" Zayne ventured, slowing down a bit now.

"Not long, though it feels like longer. Been working for him for about a year now, though Darek's been on longer."

"How long have you known Darek?"

"A while," was all Asra afforded this time, and though she shied away from any specifics she did nothing to hide the ghost of a smile as she spoke.

"Orex seems to know what he's doing for someone so removed from the Jedi. But what's Darek's story?"

Big Z slowed once he realized the others were dawdling, Zayne perhaps stalling out of fear for what the rest of his crew might be caught up in despite his show of bravery, though Mission was only guessing.

"Ex-Mandalorian, Neo Crusader."

"Ah," was all Zayne said, the weight of his knowing evident in his tone, now coming to a full stop as they approached the proper mouth to the valley. The large estate wasn't far off, but now there was a silhouette fast approaching them, the shadow of a bobbing head floating through parted grass as it drew nearer.

"So I'm guessing this is the welcome party?" Asra asked, not expecting an answer as the distance between them and their mysterious pursuer drew smaller.

A hand shot into the air, an awkward hello from a few yards ahead, and the neighborly part of Mission emerged unwittingly as she returned the gesture.

Within moments, the silhouette became a slight brunette human woman with tired eyes, her hair pulled into a tight bun at the crown of her head, shiny enough to reflect the morning sun like a halo as if to make up for the clear exhaustion that painted her face.

"More visitors," the woman sighed, already exasperated as she approached, "You must be here to join the plunder of the old Jedi Enclave, like the rest of them. I'm afraid I can't just let you roam the grounds though, you'll have to speak with Administrator Adare, first."

Big Z looked at Mission, who looked at Asra and Zayne, all shrugging in turn.

"Not to be rude but...What are you talking about?" Zayne asked after exchanging glances with the others and awaiting a response, only to receive none.

"You're salvagers, right? Your ship looks banged up enough to be a part of that lot," the woman said, venturing a glance past them at the dock before looking both Asra and Mission from head to foot, as if with distaste, "But you look… different."

Asra and Mission exchanged glances, a heat rising in Mission's chest as words escaped her.

"Excuse me?" Asra asked, a sharpness rising in her voice Mission had not yet grown acquainted with but was instantly thankful for.

The woman shrank away slightly, raising her hands as if in apologetic surrender, though Mission still noticed the stranger's eyes scan both Mission's and Asra's lekku,as if it proved some unspoken point in her unintended backhanded comment.

Mumbling a half-hearted apology, the woman shook her head, a hand cradling her temple as if she'd been dealing with miscommunications like this all day. Or maybe all week.

"I'm sorry," she groaned, though she sounded more annoyed than anything. Mission only glared at her and rested her hand on her holster while they awaited the woman's further reply. "It's just that the only recent visitors we've had are salvagers. That, and a slew of mercenaries."

"I take it you don't get many visitors?" Zayne asked, crossing his arms.

"Not really, no. And when we do, they're usually-" she paused, unsure of how to continue as she looked about the four of them, eyeing Zaalbar last and longest.

Mission could feel the unspoken word trouble hang in the air between them, and knowing the woman would never finish her sentence, decided to speak up for her.

"Just show us the way, will you?" she said, her impatience clearer in her tone than she'd like. Glancing around, Asra nodded in agreement, looking towards the woman as she took another affirmative step forward, as if urging her reply. Big Z did the same, grumbling in the affirmative, though by the looks of it their mysterious greeter took it as some sort of threat. She took a step back, and after a moment simply nodded and braced herself before formally responding.

"Right this way."

Turning on a point, the woman parted the grass behind her and began walking, assuming an air of authority she'd yet to exude - and it was then that Mission also realized she'd never once introduced herself, not mentioning her name, her position, or where she stood in Dantooine's aftermath.

"So I guess we're off to see this Administrator, huh?" Asra asked hypothetically as she gained on Mission, each of them following in unison, though each of them remained a cautious step or two behind their mysterious greeter as she led them onward.

"Guess so," Mission answered, shrugging. Big Z followed, and last to move was Zayne, his gaze far off on the horizon still, as if he were lost in a thought that was far away from here. Not in distance - but in time, memory.

"You okay?" she asked, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder as he finally tore his eyes away from the distant hills to look in her general direction.

"I will be," he said after a beat, his gaze meeting hers as it did before, in silent knowing. He smiled despite the sadness clear in his eyes.

"Good," was all Mission could muster, still unsure of what to say. Zayne clapped her shoulder in kind, in quiet thanks, before followed the others, but Mission paused.

Glancing toward the hills Zayne had been watching, Mission saw that the sun had fully risen, a golden disc now hanging serenely over the hills. Just as it had been that first day off Taris with Nevarra, still raw from the destruction of her homeworld. Suddenly growing cold from an unseen chill, Mission wrapped her arms around herself, goosebumps rising along her skin despite the warmth emanating from the sun as she soaked the scene in.

The Jedi Temple is just over the ridge, she knew instantly, the fact taking hold as the view registered in her memory. Through the valley a ways, just past the river.

She could almost hear the trickling of the water as it flowed under the austere bridge that separated the rest of the valley from the sprawling grounds of the Jedi Temple. The birdsong that echoed over the grasses, the monolithic shadows of the brith lazing overhead like the occasional cloud-cover. Mission was bristling with too much teenage angst to admire the views then, and the planet was too ravaged for her to do so now. Sighing, she pressed onward, Zayne's head still barely visible in the tall grass before her.

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

3951 BBY, Dantooine Mical

The hilt was rough-hewn. Worn from use, yes, but the recklessness of its design was intentional. As if it were a hackneyed half-thought, a thrown-together weapon of little thought. But that was the idea. Make the opponent believe it was primitive. Have them grow accustomed to the single hilt, the lone blade erupting from the short end of the otherwise long stick. The weapon of a Jedi, but not one worth fearing... Only for the other end to reveal a longer blade - rougher around the edges, wilder, yet more precise in its execution - its energy crackling with untamed energy, bristling with chaos and ruin.

Exar Kun's lightsaber was a thing of genius. It was not just a lightsaber, but a puzzle. It was an illusion meant to lull his opponents into complacency, into believing they knew his fighting style, that they knew his traditional, if not unusual, Jedi weapon - an easily recognizable symbol of the Order and everything it stood for, only for it to transform before the final blow, before the second blade would surely cut through whatever defense his adversary had already choreographed in their mind's eye, rendering them helpless, if not dead in an instant.

And this is what made Kun's weapon so utterly and undeniably Sith in design. Subtle, subversive, serving a higher purpose. That, and it was dramatic as hell.

"It's no beauty, but it's also not as ugly as I imagined," Lonna Vash uttered from beside him, eyeing the contents of the parcel with distaste but respect, her gaze intent but critical, ever the Jedi. "But perhaps it is because of the history that comes with it. It's hard to believe that legends can alter memory so completely."

"And it's only been forty years, if we're counting back to the defeat of Exar Kun and not just the man at the height of his power. And that's the power of myth, isn't it?" Mical said reverently, his fingers spiriting over the hilt, housed in a bed of soft felt, "It didn't take long for Revan to don the mask and rise to prominence, for her visions to gain traction and near-mythic proportions, to become a symbol and more than a woman."

"Who knew that a repurposed Mandalorian mask would be the face of the Mandalorian's very enemy?" she smiled, not from any warmth to the memory but perhaps out of acknowledging the bitterness of the truth. "Still, a strange thought to consider."

Mical thought the hilt was beautiful in its simplicity, in its utter deception. The metalwork was unfinished in places, the veneer uneven in others. But the innerwork was intricate, precise enough to house a second crystal and harness its raw power unlike any other Jedi-crafted lightsaber in known history. It was the first double-blade known to modernity, though legend had it that Kun had fashioned this saber from an ancient Sith design. He knew not where, though he would love to find out. Perhaps the Sith that housed them now would have some idea…

Mical and Vash had taken to the rogue Sith's cargo area for the last couple of days while in hyperspace, seeing little of their host but much of his work. Master Vash spoke little of the man, only recounting sporadically recalled moments from distant years she spent with him as his first Jedi Master when he was a child. But the information she had seemed outdated if anything, and only relevant in the way the man's childhood interests clearly played a role in his adult present. Mical hadn't minded being locked in here for two days with little food since he had the man Master Vash called Aiden's work to sift through, piles of notes and unlocked datapads at his disposal, and nothing the likes of anything he'd ever seen before. Decades of Sith history rested demurely atop the messy-but-organized workspace begging to be perused, bits of information that were otherwise inaccessible to anyone not of the affiliation. But none of it dated beyond the Sith of Korriban lore - Ajunta Pall, Ludo Kresh. Mical knew they were not the first Sith. Nor were they the first to study, let alone worship, the Dark Side of the Force. It seemed their host knew this and was well aware of the fact, his research leaning towards not only ancient Sith but Sith origin as well, only to come up empty.

"My hilt was smoother, I'll say that," a voice came from over Mical's shoulder. He should have heard the door slide open, he should have felt the air pressure shift. But part of Mical knew this was the Sith's trick, his very intention to arrive unannounced, to see what his uninvited guests were doing unattended in his private quarters. "Though in my defense, I only ever had technical drawings to work from, never the real thing."

The man brushed a strand of dark hair from his sickly green eyes, piercing as they glittered over the now-exposed lightsaber hilt of Exar Kun, whose ghost had spoken to him in a vision. Mical glanced at Master Vash, as if for direction, wondering if they should perhaps cover the thing up lest it fall into the wrong hands. Vash said nothing.

Instead of reacting, the man ran a hand over his hair, long on top but cut short around the sides, before crossing his arms, watching both guests with a wary stare.

"Also, do call me Erebus. Aiden… no longer suits me."

Somehow Mical knew the man had not reached into his mind but must have simply overheard them in the past couple days, undoubtedly sick of hearing his abandoned name repeated - Aiden, Aiden, Aiden. Mical wanted to ask where Erebus had come from, and if there was an official tradition to Sith names, but instead found himself quiet as he simply shut the parcel closed so the famed saber was hidden out of sight again. As it was intended.

"Erebus," Vash said, as if tasting the name, testing it out. After a moment she nodded, "Erebus it is, then."

As much as Mical couldn't read the Sith, he also had a hard time getting a good impression of the Jedi. One moment she was critical, only to find her exceedingly agreeable the next. There seemed to be no rules to her logic, leaning conservative on some things but liberal in others, especially when it came to her former student.

Erebus nodded curtly, trying not to appear pleased with the approval, and sucked on his teeth, looking around the room as if it were all new to him.

"Perfect," he said quickly, crossing his arms, "Well, if you're interested, as I'm sure you are, we are set to arrive on Dantooine within the standard hour. I have some rations in the cupboard against the far wall if either of you are interested. Vintage Sith rations from Revan's empire - fun, I know. Not sure what the fare will be once we land or who will welcome us, if anyone. The landscape's changed, but I trust you two more more about it than I do."

Erebus looked around the room again, avoiding all eye contact, as he tried to peer at the container that now safely housed Exar Kun's lightsaber, trying his best not to appear interested or disappointed that it was being stored away from his prying eyes.

"You were supposed to meet up with your contacts here, yes?" Vash said, placing a gentle hand on Mical's shoulder. "Assuming they escaped Space City in time, we may run into them here if the Force wills it."

"I have a feeling we will, seeing how things have turned out so far," Erebus sighed, "Let's just hope my former Master doesn't catch up with us."

"Former?" Mical said before he even felt himself think it, instantly regretting speaking upon doing so. Erebus winced as if he felt the embarrassment second-hand.

"It's a guess, but seeing as I've been avoiding Ni-" Erebus almost uttered a name but stopped himself short, his eyes flashing as his gaze flitted from Mical to Vash with mild surprise before recovering, "Since I've avoiding reporting in lately, my Master might assume I've gone rogue. And since I've yet to make up my mind on that front, such an assumption might be correct enough to act upon."

Erebus flashed them a sardonic smile, meant to mask his fear with false bravado, though it was fooling no one.

"There's a radio over there," Erebus said, trying not to sound helpful despite everything he was doing to prove otherwise, "If you want to try and contact your - I don't know - your crew, your people. Whoever."

With a shrug he was gone again, the door that separated the cockpit from the cargo hold closing at his back with an audible whoosh this time. Mical and Vash exchanged glances before looking toward the far wall, noticing a small comms system hidden behind a series of paper notes tacked over it. Wanting to preserve the data, Mical gently tugged at the paper to reveal a panel underneath, his fingers enraptured by the feel of it, unsure he'd even seen paper up close before despite having read about it all his life. The comms system was strange, both outdated and futuristic at once.

"Have you seen this sort of ship before?" Master Vash asked as Mical paused over the control panel, his fingers touching the buttons but failing to press any of them after a minute of admiring the design of it all.

"It's a Star Forge vessel, isn't it?" he answered, trying to keep the awe from his voice. Vash only nodded, her eyes glittering over the panel as if she, too, was in wonderment, trying to soak it all in and make sense of it.

"I believe it is."

"You never saw one up close?"

Master Vash shook her head as she grimaced into a half-smile, meeting Mical's eyes for a brief moment before looking back to the panel, pressing a corner button that made the entire console light up. Unlike ships native to Republic space, these buttons were hexagonal, some diamond-shaped and others pointed, almost pyramidal, and each of them was a shade of white, cream or gold in color. One lone button in the corner was black as the space between stars, but the rest glittered like a sky in miniature

"It's so foreign," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "Yet so familiar."

The panel was not unlike modern comms systems in its layout, though the design was so utterly different. Mical wondered what had come first, only knowing part of the history behind Revan's mysteriously instantaneous fleet, yet somehow he knew that this was the blueprint for everything that came after, that every facet of this ship was likely as much a relic as anything Erebus had tracked and collected in this very room. But just how old was the blueprint? Where did she find it and will it into being?

"How much of this did you see in your vision, exactly?" Mical asked, turning to Master Vash. "You said you saw Dantooine, but did you see the planet? The Jedi Temple? Something that would happen here?"

Vash was quiet at first, still admiring the panel as the lights blinked demurely, as if waiting to be pressed, asking for it almost.

"Bits and pieces," she said, "I saw the rolling hills, the ruined Temple. I saw you there, actually, poring over datapads in the remains of the library."

"And Erebus?"

Vash's mouth thinned into a line, her gaze now intent on the panel and nothing else.

"I saw the two of us training. It looked like the Temple ruins, but I can't be sure. I haven't been here since the attack."

"By a one Darth Malak?"

Vash nodded.

"Do you think there is hope for a man like him, for Erebus?"

"Hope?" Vash scoffed. "The Jedi have fallen because there was something flawed about us. Perhaps not in our intentions but in how we executed our beliefs. If anyone knows Jedi history and the intricacies of it, it's that man. And if he turned to the Dark Side before the Order fell to ruin, then I fear he may have had a good reason for doing so."

Vash looked over her shoulder at the empty door that separated them from Erebus, and Mical turned to look along with her even though all there was no man there, only metal. But in his mind's eye, Mical wondered what Aiden had looked like as a boy, as a Jedi, what his copied saber looked like, fashioned from the legend of Exar Kun, whose ghost haunted the galaxy still, just as Revan did though still more a woman than a spectre.

"I don't mean to say that I condone his affiliations or whatever he's done to sustain them," Vash corrected, turning her attention from the closed door to Erebus' myriad of notes and scribblings scattered about them, "But I can see why he did, is all."

"And what of his sister, the Exile?"

"I wish I could tell you," she said, her voice lilting, "And the fact that I cannot is unfortunately the reason why I fear we're all here."

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

3951, Peragus Mining Facility Atton

The medbay was quiet. Eerily quiet. All Atton could hear were the soft whirring sounds of the machine beside him, lulling him to sleep, as needle-thin tubes administered more pain killers and antibiotics. The last medic to do a sweep of his empty ward gave him the run-down about a half-hour ago but Atton was already fast forgetting every word the young Sullustan said, who looked over his shoulder after every other word as if someone were watching him, or as if whatever treatment Atton was receiving were clandestine. Both afraid of and eager for the solitude, Atton nodded impatiently as he spoke, only calm once he was alone again… just for the panic to take over.

With the medics around, he was a mess. But alone? He wasn't sure what was worse.

As predicted, his attendant from the past few days – Yara – had yet to return, the medic turn-over almost as staggering as the number of incoming patients in the medbay's ICU. Atton was still the only occupant in the well ward, not that he was exactly healthy, but the fact that he wasn't in critical condition seemed to be the determining factor in his placement. Still, he saw little of the others, only catching glimpses through the open door whenever a new medic would enter to administer another round of treatment or ask how he was doing, as if he were an afterthought.

What the hell is going on here?

But now, all Atton yearned for was sleep. He'd tried to glimpse the bottle the Sullustan pierced with the IV needle before hooking it up to Atton's arm – y'know, for future reference – but he wasn't so lucky, the aurabesh too small for him to read from a distance.

Damn, I'm getting old. At 32, Atton was feeling the weight of his reckless decisions more and more now, especially after working in the gas mines for the last year, and he figured his newly acquired injuries only depleted his life expectancy if anything.

Before he could lament his possible future, Atton began to drift off, his eyes drooping, senses dulling, though he still seemed to have a fuzzy view of the room he was in, as if his eyes were only half-closed. But he was quickly losing command of his limbs and all voluntary movement, his body fast becoming a cage. And while part of him liked it, another part of him felt suffocated, unsure of this prison, even if it meant he could at least rest for the moment. If all he had to look at was the empty wall for several hours, then so be it.

The room remained unchanged, though Atton did not know for how long. Dreams flitted in and out of his bouts of consciousness, though his corner of the medbay remained a constant, a background character almost, as his mind delved into the abstract.

Atton never let himself dream. Even in his sleep, he was counting cards and power couplings, never sure of who might be watching, who might be looking for him. Revan's empire died not long after Malak took over, but he knew the others trained like him were still out there somewhere. One could never be too careful. But slipping into dreamlike oblivion was almost blissful now despite the chaos he knew that ravaged the rest of the station now, his mind both emptied but full at once. He dreamt of everything and nothing, his memory as thin as air, capturing nothing but wisps of memory, trails of thought that dissipated just as quickly. And then there was the droid.

It was an HK model. Not the kind seen on Peragus in any capacity. Especially considering a protocol droid was hardly needed here, if ever. It drifted about the room, as if floating, before suddenly appearing at Atton's face, its intelligence module mere inches from Atton's half-lidded eyes. He knew he was still dreaming, but part of this felt real – too real.

Atton tried to jerk awake, tried opening his eyes, but they only seemed to want to close further, the panic rising in his chest as the HK's amber eyes bore into his unblinkingly, saying nothing. He felt a metallic hand at his wrist, and then his elbow, and pluck. The IV the medic had inserted earlier was removed and replaced with something else, though Atton could not will his eyes to move enough to see what it was. The droid's cold fingers graced his wrist again, this time checking for a pulse, before finally pulling away and pausing, admiring its handiwork before gliding away.

And then… it paused, poised in the doorway, unmoving. Its silhouette stood still, swaying gently on its metal perch for what felt like eternity, becoming a fixture in the room just as anything else, before it swiftly turned on its heel and rushed towards Atton's bedside again, this time to shut his eyes closed, cold fingers flitting over his face as though Atton were a corpse. He shuddered and the HK was gone.

And then the nightmares started.

[tiramisiyu]

【未定事件簿】 Tears of Themis: “Romantic Rail Getaway” Xia Yan Route, Day 2

Translation Masterlist | Event Masterlist

Xia Yan Route: Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5

Videos, where applicable, are hyperlinked on the headings in the post.

See under cut!

Part 1: Animal Protected Area - “The Charm of the Savannah”

People’s Customs Street

On the second day, the train arrived at the Anma Great Savannah stop.

Xia Yan and I headed straight for the animal protected area, riding the sightseeing vehicle as we listened to the guide introduce the various situations of the savannah’s animals.

The savannah that sprawled as far as the eye could see, the continuous, limitless mountain ranges, and all the sorts of wild animals immediately subdued me, who had grown up in the city.

After appreciating the animals’ great migration, Xia Yan and I arrived at the indigenous village near the savannah to tour around.

When we had just walked into the village, the guide in charge of taking over for visitors greeted us warmly.

Guide: Welcome to the indigenous village. If there’s anything you need, you can find me whenever.

MC: Okay, thank you for your trouble.

[INTERROGATION START]

Events to Enjoy

MC: Do you have any enjoyable events to recommend?

Guide: Our indigenous village’s main hit is the ecological green tour event.

Guide: Things like the cross-country Jeeps and the grass-weaving craft experiences have all received good comments from visitors.

Guide: Right, our indigenous village’s clay crafts are also very popular.

Guide: If the two of you want to buy souvenirs to take back, you can consider that.

Clay Crafts

MC: Mhmm, the crafts here are very famous! When I was looking up the guides online, I also saw lots of people recommend this.

Guide: Yes, the Tambuyani indigenous people will melt their desire and passion for a good life into the crafts they produce.

Guide: So, their works are not simply just crafts. They’re even more of a way to pass on and express their spirit!

Guide: I’m sure you both will like it.

MC: Xia Yan, how about we go see in a moment?

Xia Yan: Mhmm, we’ll choose some pretty crafts to take home as souvenirs.

Cross-Country Jeep

Xia Yan: Could you introduce us to the cross-country Jeep?

Guide: Of course I can.

Guide: We provide visitors with a Jeep-renting service, letting visitors who want to drive on the savannah experience the feeling of being fast as lightning.

Guide: There are no road-indicating lines, traffic lights, or those crazy, messy signs on the savannah. You can drive as you wish without limit.

Guide: We guarantee that each visitor will be able to enjoy the joy of street racing.

Xia Yan: It sounds pretty decent.

MC: (Xia Yan seems interested. Let’s try it with him in a moment.)

Grass-weaving Craft Experience

MC: Is the grass-weaving craft experience… an activity to experience making handicraft accessories yourself?

Guide: The grass-weaving craft will weave highly-tough grass into all sorts of accessories. It’s a traditional craft of Tambuyani.

Guide: We’ve invited a craft-making teacher to explain weaving methods to visitors.

Guide: Guests who are interested can learn right here, and make an accessory that they like.

MC: Will it be very hard?

Guide: They’re things like straw hats, bracelets, waistbelts – very simple. It’ll be very easy for guests to learn.

[INTERROGATION COMPLETE]

Guide: Do the two of you have any other questions?

MC: None left, thank you.

Guide: Then, I hope you two have fun! Please experience the charm of our Anma Great Savannah well.

 Part 2: Anma Indigenous Village

[Gameplay]

Part 3: Jeep Cross-Country Activity

[Gameplay]

Part 4: Grass-weaving Crafts Area - “Rumours of the Mine”

After experiencing the lightning-fast cross-country Jeep, I tugged Xia Yan to the grass-weaving crafts area, preparing to challenge our handicraft skills.

Under the double assistance of the craft-making teacher’s patient explanations and Xia Yan’s supreme hands-on capability…

After half an hour, a grass-woven necklace that looked pretty exquisite was created in my hands.

MC: Xia Yan, Xia Yan, look, how’s my weaving?

Xia Yan: Beautiful – grass-woven necklaces are indeed really special, and it fits particularly well with the savannah atmosphere.

Xia Yan: Eh, how about you put it on, and I’ll take some photos for you?

I was just planning to agree when the craft-making teacher on the side shook her head.

Craft-making Teacher: Do the two of you want to choose a gem pendant to go with the necklace?

Craft-making Teacher: Our Tambuyani gems are all personally dug out by the indigenous people from the mines personally – a cheap price for a beautiful object.

Actually, without an accompanying pendant, the grass-woven necklace was already sufficiently beautiful.

The craft-making teacher probably was saying this to earn some more material fees.

MC: Thank you, I think I’ll instead…

I was just planning to decline her recommendation when I suddenly remembered something.

A person like her, who interacts with accessories every day, probably would have a good understanding on information regarding gems, right?

Maybe she would know some information related to the “golden gem”.

Xia Yan: Hello, could I ask you a few questions?

Sure enough, Xia Yan also thought about this, even asking the question a step ahead of me.

Craft-making Teacher: Of course you can, go ahead and ask.

[INTERROGATION START]

Golden Gem

Xia Yan: You just said that the gems in Tambuyani were all personally dug out by the indigenous people from the mines…

Xia Yan: Then… have they dug up a very large golden gem?

Xia Yan used his fingers to approximately indicate the size of the gem. The craft-making teacher revealed a surprised expression.

Craft-making Teacher: How could there be such a large gem – you must be joking?

Looks like she doesn’t know about the golden gem… I thought a bit and changed the topic.

MC: How many fairly large gem mines are there in Tambuyani?

Craft-making Teacher: Only one. The largest mine in Tambuyani is on the north side of Anma Great Savannah. It’s called Kuru Mine.

Craft-making Teacher: These gems we use to make pendants were all bought from Kuru Mine’s mine factory.

Mine Factory

MC: Then… the scale of Kuru Mine’s factory must be very large?

Craft-making Teacher: Yeah, that mine factory is our largest mine factory in Tambuyani.

Craft-making Teacher: Many indigenous people on Anma Great Savannah are miners at the mine factory, and they rely on the factory to live.

Craft-making Teacher: To be honest, mine factory work… is quite harsh…

Craft-making Teacher: Ugh, no way around it. If not to live, who would do such wretched work…

MC: Wretched?

Miners

MC: Why would the work of the miners be wretched?

Craft-making Teacher: Hmph, it’s because of the mine factory’s black heart, having the miners work overtime and work more from day to night…

Craft-making Teacher: I’ve got a friend who works there, and I heard from him that recently there was even a riot there.

Riot Matter

MC: Why did a riot occur?

Craft-making Teacher: I’m not to clear on the detailed situation. I’m guessing that it’s because of money…

Craft-making Teacher: Ugh, that mine factory is frequently deducting the miners’ wages, so the miners definitely wouldn’t be willing.

Miners’ Recent Circumstances

MC: How is your friend – he wasn’t affected, was he?

Craft-making Teacher: He was also pretty unlucky – seems like he received a few wounds. Recently, he’s been recuperating at home.

MC: Is your friend also an indigenous person?

Craft-making Teacher: Yeah, he’s called Jerry. He lives at an indigenous village near Tambuyani National Park.

Craft-making Teacher: If you check out Tambuyani National Park, you might run into him.

Gem Sale

MC: The mine factory directly sells the gems outwards?

Craft-making Teacher: Mhmm, Kuru Mine’s factory has its own channels.

Craft-making Teacher: It’s pretty easy for a scenic spot like us to obtain goods from them mine.

[INTERROGATION COMPLETE]

 Craft-making Teacher: Alright, you both have asked this much. Want to choose a gem pendant?

MC: Mhmm, let me choose…

The craft-making teacher was visibly unwilling to reveal more, so she forced away the topic.

I thus chose a simple-styled little pendant at random, then left with Xia Yan from the grass-weaving craft experience area.

 Part 5: Anma Wilderness Park

[Gameplay]

Part 6: Haze of the Mine

Anma Great Savannah

The savannah’s stunning, magnificent scenery compelled us to remain and forget about returning home, but the things that the villagers said also made me particularly concerned.

The trip I’d originally imagined to be brisk increased somewhat in heaviness after we’d finished hearing about what the villagers told us.

Everything that was happening on this piece of land, everything that I still didn’t understand… it seemed like it exceeded my imagination by far.

MC: Xia Yan, isn’t the train going to the Tambuyani National Park stop tomorrow?

Xia Yan: Yeah, there’s a very large wild animal protected area over there. Oh right… seems like there’s also an elephant orphanage nearby.

Xia Yan: I want to take you to the animal protected area to walk around, and if there’s time, we can also ride horses together.

MC: That side… about how far away is it from the indigenous village that the villagers mentioned?

Xia Yan: Hmm… I’ve looked it up. The indigenous village isn’t too far from the national park; it’s just that the road is slightly winding.

Xia Yan: The indigenous village is on the north side of the train station, and the protected area and park are in the south area… if we walk through both sides, we might waste a lot of time.

MC: It is a little troublesome… but I still want to go see the indigenous village.

MC: We might be able to find that injured miner and ask him about Kuru Mine’s exact situation.

Xia Yan: Sorry…

Xia Yan’s expression became heavy.

MC: We were perfectly fine, so why’d you apologize?

Xia Yan: After chatting with those villagers, you’ve had your brows furrowed the whole time… you must have been thinking about the Kuru Mine situation.

Xia Yan: I originally took you out to relax, but I didn’t think… I still made you worry.

Gazed at by Xia Yan’s deep eyes, my heart shook with a sort of aching warmth.

He was worrying again.

He was like a firm and secure, reliable and steady wall, trying to block all wind and rain for me.

I felt at ease being protected by him, yet I also feared letting this wall stand alone.

I thought maybe I should say something to express what I was thinking…

>Earnestly explain to Xia Yan >Tease Xia Yan a bit

MC: I’m not worried. It’s exactly the opposite… I’m pretty happy.

MC: The point of coming with you on a trip was to relax, yes, but I also really want to solve hard issues with you.

Xia Yan: But…

Xia Yan’s expression was still heavy, seeming like he was thinking about how to refute me. I rushed to continue in my efforts.

MC: Right now, Great Detective Xia’s commission is already no longer as simple as looking for a gem.

MC: If there are miners who’ve been receiving unfair treatment the whole time, we have a responsibility to investigate this.

MC: You definitely also want me to accompany you in solving this matter, right?

Xia Yan: I do want that… I’m just afraid that it’ll affect your traveling mood.

Xia Yan: A perfectly fine trip, suddenly becoming an investigation again – I keep feeling it’s somewhat…

MC: It won’t, we just need to check out the circumstances on the way. It won’t hold us up for too long.

MC: After the investigating ends, we have lots of time to have fun everywhere.

Xia Yan: Ugh, I’m never able to beat you when it comes to words…

Xia Yan: Alright, let’s go to the indigenous tribe first tomorrow to walk around.

MC: Mhmm, now that’s right!

  >Earnestly explain to Xia Yan >Tease Xia Yan a bit

MC: Aiya, I see someone whose brow is so furrowed that it could hold a dried fig between them.

Xia Yan: Who?

MC: You.

I reached out and stroked Xia Yan’s brow, and he widened his eyes, dumbfounded.

Xia Yan: !!!

MC: To me, the one who’s worrying is you.

MC: You’re trying to think of a way to secretly investigate on your own without impeding our trip, aren’t you?

Xia Yan: I…

Seeing Xia Yan’s expression, I knew my guess had hit the mark.

MC: That won’t do. Since I’m following my great detective out on this trip, of course I need to try my hand at some high-difficulty tasks.

MC: I’ve already decided – for the commission this time, I’m doing it with you.

Xia Yan: I’m afraid if there’s danger…

MC: I’ve still got you. I believe that with you here, any danger won’t be an issue.

MC: Peanut, do you also think this?

The myna bird Peanut spread its wings and beat them a few times on a tree branch, calling out quietly, seeming to be responding to my words.

MC: See, Peanut’s saying “That is how it is”.

Xia Yan: I really can’t do anything against you. Alright…

Xia Yan: My Watson, let’s undo the mystery that’s entangled on this savannah together!

MC: Mhmm, now that’s right!

[jwood719]

Thurmond, West Virginia: a Rail Road Town that the World Passed By, Then Found Again (sorta’) - Updated.

As I explained recently over a dinner with friends in town (for the first time in how long?!), Thurmond, West Virginia was south and west of Pittsburgh, so it seemed like a good option for a kind-of side trip on the way home from Pennsylvania.  Little did I know how long the trip south would be, but glad I was to have done it.

A CSX coal car drag passing the Thurmond Depot, as seen through the window of the yardmaster’s office. [1]

The town was founded by one Capt. W.D. Thurmond in 1873, the same year the Chesapeake & Ohio Railway completed main line track building through the New River Valley.  The New River Valley was scene to intensive coal mining in the latter half of the 1800s and first half of the 1900s, and Thurmond was literally and figuratively at the heart of it all.

I believe the tall structure visible through the coal smoke and vented steam is the coaling tower. [2]

Thurmond in 1988.  Conspicuously absent now are all the structures on the left side of the tracks -- as well as the tracks to the left. [3]

The New River Valley was also the scene of some of the worst of the “coal field wars:” the operators paid by weight, ran company towns and stores, and lured unsuspecting laborers into the valley with promises of good wages -- promises that never materialized.  Instead, coal weight was shorted, company rents and store fees were exorbitant, and rules were enforced with extra-judicial posses, bought-off law enforcement officers, and state militia at times.  Miners were repeatedly denied recognition of their unionizing efforts, scabs were thrown in between the simmering, or boiling, antagonists, and strikes devolved into shooting matches.

Thurmond in 1988. [3]  Two generations of water towers (near center) holding hundreds of thousands of gallons of water for the thirsty steam-powered engines, and the post office building (at right)  CSX removed the water towers in the 1990s.

Concrete footings for the water towers seen in the 1988 photo above.  The post office building still stands (at far right), and is still U.S.P.S. property, though it is no longer in operation. [1]

Thurmond was the vital hub for the C&O and for all the various people who moved through the Valley throughout the coal mining years; in 1910, Thurmond  moved more freight and passengers than any other town the rail road serviced.  It’s hard to imagine today, but from its founding until the early 1920s, Thurmond could only be reached by rail, and thousands of people moved through or lived in the town, going to work in a mine, working for the C&O, or providing goods and services.

The Marilyn Brown house, with the roofline of the Fatty Lipscomb house beyond. [1]

At one time, Thurmond boasted many commercial structures, scores of houses (like those above), and was also a service hub for the C&O’s engines and rolling stock.  Steam-powered rail road engines require daily maintenance, work that was effected in a large engine house that was perched above the river.

Thurmond in 1988. [3] The engine house is right of center in the mid-ground, behind the trees.  Some of the remaining private houses can be seen uphill behind the commercial buildings, as well as the one “street” that wound across the face of the hill.

Like so many towns built around 19th century industries, Thurmond’s importance declined dramatically as the 20th century proceeded.  The use of diesel rail road engines left steam engine mechanics unemployed; many of the mines played out, and those that remained (and remain still) employed far fewer miners to pull the coal from the seams -- or blast it from hill tops; and people who would have been passengers on the trains began driving automobiles.  The world, if you will, moved on, and Thurmond dried up.

Two views of the Fatty Lipscomb house. [1]

As coal mining declined, though, tourism increased, and in the 1960s and 1970s, enthusiasts of outdoor sports found the U.S. Congress receptive to the idea of setting aside some of West Virginia’s landscapes for boating, hiking and camping.  In 1978, a substantial swath of West Virginia was designated as the New River Gorge National River, and later, lands along the Gauley and Bluestone Rivers were conserved, designated as National Recreation Areas in 1988.

Another house, here perched on the hillside above the commercial district, and a stretch of the local roadway, looking downhill. [1]

Once the land along the rivers became national reserves, Thurmond basically passed into federal control, though up until the early 1990s, up to 50 people still resided there.  The Chesapeake & Ohio had also declined, and became a foundational holding of today’s CSX Transportation rail road company.  CSX still moves coal through Thurmond in long drags of hopper cars, either full and destined for power plants, or empty and heading back to the mines.

In 1988 (above) [3] and in 2021 (below). [1]  The view below is perhaps the best known angle of the old commercial buildings.  From right, these are: the Mankin-Cox Building, the oldest of the three, which housed a druggist and a bank; the Goodman-Kincaid Building, which housed a dry goods store as well as offices and apartments; and the National Bank of Thurmond Building; all held a variety of business concerns before business fled.  To the upper right is the Erskine Pugh house.  The track in the foreground has been removed.

Circa 1900 [2]  The engine house is right of center, with the commercial buildings to the left.  The large building at far left was a hotel, but it burned down and was replaced by an Armour meat company building -- which also burned, in 1963 . The depot (seen following photo) is at the far right, with the rail road trestle just in view.

The 1904 passenger depot, now the NPS visitors center (as of 1995), and yes, Amtrak does have Thurmond as a stop! [1]

The NPS owns most of the remaining buildings, and efforts began in the early 2000s to keep them from deteriorating further, with roof repairs and seals to keep out the weather. There are still 5 residents in Thurmond, all are on the town council, and in addition to being active within the park, they are also seeking ways to keep the town alive.�� 

The red house at left is new construction, but on an old foundation, and where possible, older building materials have been recycled in its build-out.  A project of Thurmond’s residents, the hope is to have it available for seasonal leases; my guess is it’ll wind up with a long wait-list -- and my name will be on it! [1]

Old rail road ties in the dirt: now an access road, the C&O service track that led to the coaling tower were once mounted here; the engine house would have been to the extreme right and partially out of view; the depot is dead ahead, and my road-weary car is parked near the trees. [1]

Maybe I was taken-in by the town because of the setting, nestled as it is among the hills and above the river; maybe it’s because the old buildings have that “certain something” that makes history buffs like me snap more photos than is reasonable; maybe it’s the potential that I can see in them (provided anyone ever coughed up the money to really rehabilitate them); if I was to get metaphysical about it, maybe it’s because of all the lives and history that occurred in the area and the energy left behind calls out still (y’know if I got metaphysical about it -- past lives anyone?); perhaps it’s all of those.  What-ever the reason, I’ve been thinking of making a trip back in mid-Autumn, take a long weekend as the leaves are turning and it’s got chilly -- and shoot yet more photos than is reasonable.

The 1922 coaling tower (above), built by Fairbanks Morse (as noted on the sign below). [1]

The reason for the coaling tower: a pair of the last steam engines in Thurmond: 1953. [2]

I briefly stopped at the New River Gorge visitors center where I got directions, and figured I could at least find out where I was going before getting off the highway for the night.  I arrived in Thurmond just before 5 PM, but even that later afternoon hour left plenty of daylight to walk about and take photos.  My thought had been to simply find Thurmond, then make my stop-over somewhere nearby (Beckley, WV is less than 10 miles away) then return in the morning.  That thinking quickly became “Oh! I can come back for more in the morning!” 

Up the hill: the old church. [1]  The church grounds now host the local triathlon and reunion events for those who once lived in Thurmond.

What I realized as I strolled around in the afternoon, was that the light would be dramatically different if I arrived early the next day (yeah: a “well duh!” moment if ever there was one), an effect of the changed daylight hours mixed with the topography that proved itself quite wonderfully -- and is why the images here show both the golden glow of evening and the cool white of morning.

Amtrak’s Cardinal route-train, on-time (or nearly) on a Friday morning. [1]

Standing by my car, having a sip of coffee, looking around as other visitors arrived or departed, I just, well -- “sighed with contentment” is an apt description. 

A view of the ticket agent’s office. [1]

For more information on Thurmond:

The National Park Service’s web page for Thurmond, WV.

Thurmond, WV on Clio, a history and culture website.

Both of these share some of the same information, and each has additional images, both historical and contemporary.  

A view of the New River Valley from the west side, across from Thurmond (note the houses and rail road cars on the far bank below the hill). [4]

The historical narrative written here was gleaned from the NPS hand-out for Thurmond, as well as from the Summer 2021 issue of National Parks magazine, published by the National Parks Conservation Association (“Miner’s Angel” concerning Mother Jones and the coal field wars of West Virginia, by Nicolas Brulliard).  Identification of the Marilyn Brown house made possible by access to a PDF of the NPS’ structural assessment report of buildings in Thurmond, revised edition, published in 2002.

A view of the yardmaster’s office [1]

Atlas Obscura’s “22 of America’s Best Preserved Ghost Towns”  Sorry, Mental Floss, you were forgot.

Looking south toward the depot past the three old commercial blocks. [1]

[1] Photographs by R. Jake Wood, 2021.

[2] Historic photographs displayed on-site by National Park Service, photographed on-site and edited for this posting by Jake Wood. 

[3] Photographs by Jet Lowe, 1988, for the Library of Congress’ Historic American Building Survey/Historic American Engineering Record; retrieved from the Library of Congress’ Prints & Photographs Online Catalog, with minor editing by Jake Wood.

[4] Photograph by the Detroit Publishing Co., circa 1910; from the Library of Congress’ Prints & Photographs Online Catalog, with minor editing by Jake Wood.

The depot, alongside CSX trackage. [1]

CSX coal drag outbound with hoppers full of coal.  The post office building is visible just beyond the engine. [1]

[fedeipox]

The Way of Time (Rdr2 Fanfic) - Chapter 2 (2/3)

I generally post in the morning just to realize half the planet is still asleep. How wonderful!!

And no, I’m not being sarcastic, I honestly find it fascinating. 

Part 1 here: https://fedeipox.tumblr.com/post/636417099433164800/the-way-of-time-rdr2-fanfic-chapter-2-13

Chapter 2 (2/3) - Rats and caravan

Words: 2,3k

When she walked inside the room she found Mr. Smith, the man with the ridiculous mustache and Lenny at work, but there was also someone who was doing nothing.

The man with the blond walrus mustache and the white hat was seated on the table dandling his feet down and polishing a long silver knife with a grayish rug.

The first thing Emily thought to do when she saw him was point it out: why everybody was working but him? Was he special? 

Her mother taught her that everybody is supposed to do his part and for this reason she was used to clean and tide her room weekly and wash her own clothes, apart from working and bringing money in the house every month. She never helped her in the kitchen though. She was a terrible cook. 

So, let the others work while he was doing nothing wasn’t right. But then, with a quick glance at the long sharped blade he had in his hands, she thought that maybe it wasn’t the greatest moment to tell him to move his ass. 

“Okay, on my three, Charles” said the man with the ridiculous mustache and when Emily looked at him she saw him and the dark Native bended over a big trunk. 

“One, two, three.”

The two of them lifted the thing, which looked particularly heavy, and brought it outside, all under the high and mighty gaze of the man seated on the table.

“Come, Emily, help me with this” Tilly called her.

She was grabbing another trunk from its handle and waiting for someone to lift the other side of it. Emily reached her and did as she was asked, but she couldn’t bear the weight of that thing for long, and after a couple of steps, she had to put it down.

“Don’t worry, you can do it, we are not in a hurry” said Tilly to reassure her.

Emily knew her limits, she knew she wasn’t strong, she had never been. Her muscles were weak and her bones broke easily, she had learned that when she was a kid.

“Well, actually we are in a hurry, ladies. The law can still catch up with us. You should speed up a little” said the man on the table. 

Emily let the handle of the trunk go and lifted to look at him. He had blue insolent eyes and the curve of his lips had something wicked and mocking. He surely didn’t look like a gentleman. 

“So why don’t you help us?” she replied feeling upset by the man’s behavior. 

“I am a man, house chores do not concern me.”

Emily scoffed. She couldn’t believe it. She had just found the worst specimen of the human kind. 

“Asshole” she just whispered before reaching the handle of that heavy thing again.

“Hey, watch your mouth, girl.” 

Looking at him again, Emily noticed he wasn’t as angry as his voice made him seem, he was just playing the big man. Ridiculous. 

“And you watch your manners. Making a woman work hard as you do nothing isn’t very gentlemanly” she rebuked him.

“You talk about manners? We barely know each other and you already insulted me” said the man jumping down the table and taking a step towards her.

Emily withdrew glancing at the knife he still had in his hands, before fixing her eyes on his. He wasn’t angry, or if he was he was hiding that anger behind one of the most evil, perverted smiles she had ever seen. She was scared by that man, she couldn’t lie to herself, but at the same time he upset her so much she wanted to reply something. If hate had a face, it was the face of…

“Leave her alone, Micah” Lenny stepped in, coming from the other room and getting by her side.

Micah raised his hands in the air making them understand he had no bad intentions and with the same sneer that hadn’t left his face for a second, he walked out. 

“Gosh, is he always like that?” Emily asked.

“Yeah, you better get used to him” answered Tilly.

Get used? She had no intention to get used to anybody, she wanted to leave those people as soon as possible. It wasn’t her plan to live with a bunch of criminals, even if that was 1899 and she had no plan at all. For now. 

With Tilly they moved the trunk outside and left it to the men who lifted it without problems to load it with the others.

Emily looked at the long line of wagons and the people going in and out from the cabins carrying every kind of object. They were like nomads: they moved their house to go wherever they wanted to and whenever it pleased them to do so. What kind of life was that? With no roots, no stability, no rest. Not a comfortable bed to sleep at night, not a possibility to have a family, have a steady job. 

Emily snorted to herself. Now she was talking silly: they were outlaws, that was their job.

“Okay, we’ve done our part” said Mary-Beth going away.

“Where are you going?” asked Emily.

“Probably reading” she answered without bothering to look at her.

Emily exchanged a look with Tilly.

“If you still want to help go to Miss Grimshaw” she said before heading to the opposite direction of Mary-Beth.

Did she want to help? Had she any other choice? Between sit still and freeze and working she preferred working. At least the movement could warm her more than Mary-Beth’s coat was doing.

She started walking and at every wagon she passed she couldn’t help but staring at the couple of horses tied to each of them. Why, why horses? Among all the kind of animals that existed in the world, why horses?

“Good Morning, Miss.”

Emily turned around and watched the man as he walked towards her. 

“Good Morning… Hosea, right?”

“Yes, how you doing this morning?” 

“Better, thank you. I was… helping” she said pointing a finger on the wagons around her.

“Good, the sooner we get outta here the better. I’m not a snow lover.”

Emily giggled, more as a formality than a real amusement, but at the same time Hosea’s words made her think of something: he seemed to be one of the men in charge in that place, so who better than him. 

“Where are we heading?” she asked.

Hosea looked at her right in the eye before answering.

“There’s a town. Its name’s Valentine. I think we’ll find what we’re looking for down there.”

Valentine, she knew that place, but she had never been there. It was a commercial city. Fine business and trading companies, but nothing more. No art, no history, no tourism.

“And, what are you looking for?” she asked intrigued.

“Opportunities” he exclaimed going away with a smile.

Emily frowned, but soon understood what he was talking about and what he meant by “opportunities”. 

She kept walking until she reached the main cabin from which two people were stumbling out dragging the man who the night before was laying on the cot. One was Charles Smith, the other was Abigail. She wondered what had happened to him, but asked nothing, and went inside right after they came out. 

“Oh good, you’re here. Help the reverend with those boxes. We’re almost done” said Miss Grimshaw as soon as she laid eyes on her.

She had no idea who the reverend was and she also found odd that a gang of criminals had a man of church with them. But thinking about it, that shouldn’t have surprised her, not after Jack. 

She saw the man with the reddish mustache lifting some boxes and presumed that he had to be the reverend, so she drew closer and took a couple of the smaller ones, the only ones she could carry without tear away her arms from her body. 

Since they seemed to move a lot, couldn’t they travel a little lighter? Emily asked herself while she followed the man outside, and when she loaded the boxes on the back of the wagon and turned around, she spotted the man with the blue coat that had made her get down the train the night before, approaching with his horse. She looked at him as he made his horse slow down and dismounted it to walk towards Dutch and Hosea. 

“So, we getting out of this hellhole?” he asked. 

“We’re gonna try, weather seems stable” answered Dutch.

“And we just robbed a Leviticus Cornwall train” Hosea added.

The information stroke Emily as a cold shower. The train she was in. That’s what they were doing the night before, they were robbing it. And Cornwall was no mafia boss, but Leviticus Cornwall the magnate and entrepreneur who died in… 1899! And his business, that big business he had created from nothing with his own hands, was split among his faithful partners after his death. 

That was it, the confirmation that she was truly in 1899. She had learned about Cornwall at school, read his name in history books, where they said he was murdered in Annesburg by an opposer of his campaign for improving the miners working conditions. He was a good man, a man who had power and used that power to help others. Who knew if she could meet him and maybe… maybe warn him of his future, maybe…maybe save his life herself! She would have changed history! 

“Bring Hosea. I know you two like to talk about the good old days and what’s gone wrong with old Dutch.”

The tall man with the blue coat walked right in front of her and gave her a look before he kept going. She felt a shiver run down her spine: was it the cold or that man’s eyes? He had something different from the rest of them, but she couldn’t tell what.

“Miss, it’s time to go” said a voice from her back and turning around she saw Santa Clause looking at her with a courteous smile on his face.

“To which wagon?” she asked.

“Anyone. There’s still space in the second-to-last, you want to join me?”

She looked at his sweet smile under his beard and those dark cheerful eyes and thought he was really the perfect kind of man that could play the role of Santa Clause in the stores during Christmas Holidays. He just needed a red suit and hat and a laughing kid on his knees telling him what he wished to get from him that year. This picture gave Emily the feeling that she could trust him.

“Sure” she said with a kind smile. 

Together they walked past three wagons which were already starting to move and reached the one with the big man and Charles Smith at the driving place, while in the back she recognized Jack and the woman with the freckled face she had yelled at the night before. Santa Clause hopped in leaving his legs dangling from the back and Emily followed his example. 

As she adjusted herself better on the place she had chosen, she looked up at the last wagon right ahead of her. The man with the blue coat and Hosea were seated at the driver place and, looking for a moment at them, she gulped in embarrassment. 

She had to travel with the eyes of those two on her, and she didn’t know why, but the idea was troubling. Not much for Hosea, but for the other man, who had such a strange effect on her.

She heard the deep voice of Charles Smith behind her yelling and the wagon started moving with a jolt. 

...

Arthur gave a strong whip of the reins and made the horses move, following the caravan and leaving that cold mountain for good. He also hoped to leave the bad luck behind, together with Blackwater, the runaway, the fear and the losses, but he knew he wouldn’t have. If Arthur had a flaw, one among the others, was that he couldn’t let the past go, even if he tried with all himself. 

“Why it took you so much to come back?” asked Hosea. 

“I had to take care of some loose ends. Be sure this Mr. Cornwall can’t track us down.”

“I tell you, it wasn’t a good move. He is a powerful man, the kind that doesn’t let things go easily.”

Arthur grunted. He knew Hosea was the reasonable part of the group and that he worried about them all, but he trusted Dutch with his life and the one of everybody else there.

As the wagons kept going he exchanged a look with the girl he had found on Cornwall’s train and wondered if they had found out anything about her.

“What about our new arrival?” he asked to Hosea.

Hosea stared at her for some time, thinking about the mystery that girl was.

“Miss Emily Richardson. She’s definitely an interesting type” he said.

“Where do she come from?”

“Saint Denis. If she speaks the truth. And then…”

Arthur looked at Hosea. There was something odd if he used that suspense.

“She says she comes from 2020.”

Arthur laughed in a snort and shook his head. Bullshit. 

“She wasn’t lying” said Hosea plainly.

“Well then, she has a wild imagination.”

“And she looks perfectly sane.”

“Oh come on, Hosea” Arthur complained.

He couldn’t believe he was having that conversation. He knew Hosea was good with people, but maybe that girl was so convinced with her own follies that he couldn’t understand she was crazy, or maybe she was a very good liar, better that Hosea. 

No, that couldn’t be, he knew no better liar than Hosea.