#but I think I need to let my brain recharge in December

[shamera]

NaNo day 23-25

I LIVE back with hunter au

so the first part felt fun but then I had a really hard time writing and got distracted by rl left and right so if it feels choppy... it is. that's what editing is for, right? that is if i keep most of this, hurhur.

I had an idea for this, I swear I did, but I kept meandering. Finally coming up to the end, though. of the part? of the story? idk, but we're finally coming to the part I imagined when I first started this, even if that image was nebulous in my head.

also scene not complete but my brain is done tonight

One thing that always irritated Fang Duobing about Li Lianhua was just how easy it was to trust the man. No matter how many times Fang Duobing watched him lie or cheat or weasel his way out of things, when it came down to it, Fang Duobing instinctively trusted Li Lianhua. 

At first he blamed it on his own inexperience with the world. Growing up ill, he had mostly been homeschooled until he recovered enough to be thrown into an exclusive and extremely rich private school where other children of diplomats and royalty attended, yet Fang Duobing never quite… connected the other children. He was different and intense and he didn’t share the same life goals as them. 

Unlike his schoolmates, he hadn’t wanted to inherit companies or marry up or maintain rich connections. Instead, he wanted to be a Hunter, someone who needlessly endanger their lives for little gain. Fang Duobing wanted to fight, wanted to get in the middle of things and get his hands dirty saving others. His frustration grew over the years as he found no one to share or understand his dream, and the last straw had been when his parents arranged his marriage to Princess Qiaoling. 

He was meant to inherit his mother’s company and his father’s name, marry the Princess and live a soft, sheltered life where his children would be even more powerful and the Fang and He lineage would be secured, and even more, of royal blood. 

When Fang Duobing first ran away from home, he made mistake after mistake that had his aunt hunting closely after him. He learned to pull out his sim card from his phone, learned to dress differently and cover his face in big cities due to surveillance at every corner, and circumnavigate paper money rather than rely entirely on paying via his phone. 

(Although he continued to make that last mistake again and again whenever he needed food or money, instead learning how to run faster than his aunt could catch him.)

With his inexperience with people, it just made sense that he kept getting tricked by Li Lianhua. 

Or, it would make sense if Fang Duobing ever learned from his mistake. 

Yet he didn’t know why, but when Li Lianhua snuck a look at him, Fang Duobing would understand exactly what he meant by the look. They communicated seamlessly in a manner that he wouldn’t notice until much later, when Fang Duobing could review the day and be breathless at how easily they navigated around each other. 

It must be, Fang Duobing determined early on, the storybook friendships. That’s how people felt about best friends, right? It was the type of connection seen on tv dramas, and the type of connection that Hunters would develop after years of fighting alongside each other. 

That would make sense except for the fact that Li Lianhua very obviously didn’t fight. 

He complained about long walks and lost his breath on stairs, and Fang Duobing was always the one doing the heavy lifting and fixing around Lotus Tower. He would have complained about it more if not for the fact that Li Lianhua really did get very sick from time to time, with no prior warning. 

And when he got sick, he would spend days in bed in a state that worried Fang Duobing tremendously. He couldn’t understand how the man survived to this point at all without someone to take care of him. 

After being caught by his aunt the first time (because! Li Lianhua! Snitched! On him!), Fang Duobing spent months back home seething over the betrayal, constantly trailed by maids, servants, and bodyguards paid to not let him out of their sights. He spent the time spamming Baichuan Court with requests and shoved his application and resume in their faces the entire time, only to be rejected time and again. 

It took months of intense studying and online spoofing for Fang Duobing to find a time where he managed to sweet-talk his mother into allowing him to one of her company parties, lying through his teeth about a sudden interest in a corporate career, especially since he was now not a child but in his twenties. 

His escape the second time had been so narrow he heard his aunt’s angry screaming while he was still climbing down over the wall of the private retreat, rolling down through the bushes in his suit in glee at finally escaping from the excessive overprotectiveness of his family. 

Goodbye, arranged marriage and arranged life and having the names of his nonexistent kids already picked out! He was going to go off and make a name for himself with his own blood, sweat, and tears, and he was going to fulfil his dreams of being a Hunter and fighting monsters and saving people— 

And then, somehow, he ran into Li Lianhua again in the first town he escaped to via the first long-distance bus he could find that didn’t require his identification for a ticket. 

He would have left, he really would have. He would have just turned around and made his way to the next town without acknowledging him at all, except Li Lianhua had been pale like he was still recovering from a recent bout of illness, and there was a girl standing with him that Fang Duobing recognised from a previous case together, and what was she doing there as well?

Apparently in Fang Duobing’s absence, Su Xiaoyong had taken it upon herself to trail after Li Lianhua, and Fang Duobing was having none of it. It just wasn’t proper, and so what if that view was old fashioned! Her following them had been funny originally when Fang Duobing was there the first time, but it wasn’t funny now that he wasn’t there!

So he bullied his way back into his room at Lotus Tower (which was his and not Su Xiaoyong’s!), and back into travelling with Li Lianhua again on the promise that the man wouldn’t rat Fang Duobing out to his aunt again. 

It was not even three weeks after that Fang Duobing found Li Lianhua having pulled out that ancient laptop of his at the kitchen, frowning at the horrible internet connection from where they were parked. 

“Why do you need that?” Fang Duobing asked then, surprised. He leaned to peek at the screen. “Does that thing even work? It must have existed along with the dinosaurs. I’ll get you a new one.”

A second later, he changed his mind. 

“Are you emailing my mother?” Fang Duobing shrieked, a hand shaking at Li Lianhua’s shoulder. “Why?!”

For someone usually so sickly, Li Lianhua didn’t bat an eye at being shaken like that. “We have a rapport. She asked me about you, I thought it was only polite to respond. She wants to know if you’re still alive and standing.”

That wasn’t all of it, from what Fang Duobing could read on the screen. He Xiaohui included quips about her day and random cooking recipes, along with thanks for recommending the acupuncturist for her sore shoulder. She had jokes on the side. She used emojis in the messages. 

It wasn’t until the post-script that she asked about her son’s well-being. 

P.S., she wrote, is my darlingest Xiaobao still alive?

Then he saw Li Lianhua respond with ‘he's reading this right now ‘before Fang Duobing attempted to wrestle that laptop out of his hands, but not before the man managed to hit send. 

And that was how Fang Duobing learned he didn’t need to be as careful with his phone use and purchases, because his mother had known where he was all along and was only mad he didn’t tell her himself. 

(Although perhaps he had been a little too ambitious in thinking he could hide from his mother, the head of a company on innovative technology who happened to moonlight in R&D as well.)

“Now I’m glad you don’t have a phone,” Fang Duobing griped afterward. Despite his extensive badgering about getting Li Lianhua a phone (mostly so he could find the ever elusive man), Li Lianhua had remained steadfast in his adherence to living like an old man. Fang Duobing shuddered to think of his family on a WeChat group with Li Lianhua, who could be documenting Fang Duobing’s greatest failures on the daily. He thought of his own collections of photos and videos around Lotus Tower, mostly of Hulijing because she was the cutest dog in existence, but also of Li Lianhua cooking, or drinking tea, or tucked into a corner and reading, or— 

“I somehow remember a certain someone badgering me about needing a phone for everyday use,” Li Lianhua said, even as he shut down the laptop and packed it away once more. “From messaging to paying for things, to maps…”

“Eh!” Fang Duobing made panicked noises to stop the other man from continuing. “Who said that, huh? Not just me! It’s common sense— how do you survive the modern world without Alipay, anyway? No navigation, no contacts, no access to TaoBao…”

“I make do.” Li Lianhua replied with faux demureness. 

(Fang Duobing doesn’t manage to convince him to get a phone, although soon enough a brand new and high-spec tablet ends up in Lotus Tower just by coincidence, only to be thrown into the same compartment as the ancient laptop. After that, he stuck to purchasing newer kitchen appliances instead. At least the air fryer was a hit.)

Two days later, they exposed a supplier for illegal dungeon materials who attempted to drug them, only for Li Lianhua to take one look at the tea and smile sweetly before diverting attention and dumping the cup below his sleeve, barely needing to nudge Fang Duobing’s foot for him to do the same. 

After that they managed to come up with the same plan, executing it at the same time without saying a word about it to each other. They gave the same story to the police who showed up afterward as well, even in separate rooms and even without having corroborated beforehand. 

It was like having someone who knew exactly what was on his mind, and knowing exactly what was on his mind in return, even if Fang Duobing couldn’t quite comprehend his actions most of the time. The feeling was exhilarating enough that he couldn’t help but forgive Li Lianhua’s strange habits and awful lies. 

Because when and where it counted, Li Lianhua did live up to everything Fang Duobing hoped of him. 

He hid and he ran away and he lied endlessly, but Fang Duobing had always known the type of person Li Lianhua was, the same way they always knew each other’s decisions and actions. It was the connection of a lifetime— he met Li Lianhua and he just knew.

He knew. 

Staring at the view before him now, within the domain of the boss dungeon, Fang Duobing found he really didn’t know anything at all. 

With most of the tendrils of the monster cut off, it was like half the body disappeared after the sword swing (sword? What sword? Where did that sword come from?), unbalancing the large beast and bringing its heavy body crashing forward, the darkness it hide between the tendrils disappearing amidst the glow of the grass as it hit the ground, only for the shrieking noise to grow even louder, louder until Fang Duobing wasn’t sure if his ears would soon be bleeding. 

Li Lianhua (tired, sickly Li Lianhua who couldn’t even be bothered to carry his own groceries) wasted no time as he dashed forward into a sprint, the faint glow of the sword blending in with the surroundings as he darted around the falling monster to jump atop it, the movements so graceful Fang Duobing almost felt like time slowed for it as he lept, weightless, landing with just one foot on the hulk of the monster before he pushed off again before gravity could set in, spinning in an effortless movement to balance atop the crashing body and evade the renewed tendrils that came from the other side of the monsters as its form split once more, shorter now, yet no less deadly in its force. 

Fang Duobing was too far away to see clearly, the movements and the dust blurring the battle, but he knew that footwork. He knew the slash, that sidestep, that evasion. 

He’d been studying it since he was ten years old, attempting to find every video and snippet the internet had of the famous Sigu Sect founder, eyes wide with wonder and reverence. He read every article, replayed every clip of every fight with breathless marvel as teen prodigy Li Xiangyi climbed his way to the top of the world of Hunters. Every shaky phone footage from civilians who managed to catch seconds when Li Xiangyi was challenged by other Hunters, only for him to end the fight almost instantly, within only a few moves. 

The famed Whirling Steps of Xiangyi Swordplay, as light and easy as laughter. 

(But it couldn’t be!)

The tendrils were moving faster now, focusing on the ones with spikes down the side, readily destroying even the body of the monster in attempts to target Li Lianhua, who evaded the attacks easy as breathing, and turned to hack those tendrils off as well, the ground shaking with each and every heavy fall of monster parts, the flash of a blue sword cutting swiftly and deftly like a knife through butter. 

With the closest tendrils taken care of, Li Lianhua was pulled back into action atop the monster, amongst the splattered dark blood and gore, and the dug his sword in the body of the creature, nearly to the hilt as it thrashed and screamed, attempting to buck him off even as he clung onto the blade. 

The creature’s movement seem to turn against itself, though, as the blade sank to create a deeper and wider cut as it moved, until Li Lianhua pulled the sword out and then sank it in again in a different location, doing this several times in a row until he drew away to once again battle the remaining tendrils. 

Ten seconds, twenty seconds, and the creature that was the size of a house was getting hacked into pieces, and blood splattered carelessly over Li Lianhua’s pale clothes and skin, half hidden by the curtain of dark hair. 

It took less than a minute before all the tendrils were gone, and the body of the beast was merely twitching on the ground, cut nearly in half by the glowing blue blade, which remained free of blood despite its owner being half covered in it by now. 

And then the monster collapsed, the endless shrieking finally halted as it began falling apart like a pile of snakes to reveal the darkness it had been protecting inside, a gaping maw of abyss that grew and lifted, and Li Lianhua was standing right there—

“Look out!” Fang Duobing shouted out, immediately pushing himself onto his shaking feet as if he could make it over in time to add action to his warning. 

Li Lianhua pushed himself back from the expanding darkness, expression veiled underneath his hair, and for a moment Fang Duobing thought he might have looked back at him. 

And then all the glow in the dungeon went out, sending the world into a pitch black. 

— 

He didn’t pass out, and he didn’t merely lose sight of everything. 

Between one moment and the next, all the light was gone and even the world dropped out from under his feet, leaving only the sensation of falling without wind, of dropping forevermore in a vast and empty void, like crashing and sinking in the ocean as all his senses dulled along with his vision. 

It was cold and numbing, like pressure along his skin yet there was nothing there. Like there was no air to breathe, but he might yet be crushed in this nothingness, by the nothingness. 

Fang Duobing knew his eyes were open, that he was reaching upward, yet he could not feel nor see his actions. Without sensation, he came the devastating realisation— 

This was within the monster. 

Distantly, he remembered a story about a man swallowed by a whale, and wondered if this fate could be compared to that. 

He wondered until he felt something grab the back of his collar, and drag him up. 

Up and up and up and this time there was a sense of direction, of place, and Fang Duobing gasped for breath and found that there was no air in this void of darkness, no existence outside of this grasp on his clothes pulling him along, and he— 

He breathed. 

Moreover, he choked and he coughed and he curled into a ball as gravity asserted itself on his limbs again and he felt like he weighed a thousand tonnes, pressed into the ground on shaking limbs that came away almost wet but not with a black substance like tar yet felt like it wasn’t there at all. Like black smoke if smoke were opaque at all times and clung the way tar did. 

“Good,” a shaking voice said next to him, and the pressure on his collar disappeared. “Good.”

The familiarity of the voice was enough to remind him of his situation, and Fang Duobing shot out an arm to grab at Li Lianhua’s wrist. “A-are… Are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” Li Lianhua’s tone was full of fond exasperation, even if Fang Duobing was still blinking dark spots from his vision, only to realise it really was that dark— at least, there was only the barest of light where they were, and he didn’t know where that luminescence came from. He could barely see Li Lianhua’s shape, and even that was difficult as the other man was also covered head to toe with the solidified darkness still dripping off him in clumps from his hair. “Fang Duobing, you’re the one who— didn’t I tell you not to open your eyes or move?”

“I counted,” Fang Duobing croaked out, although he didn’t claim to have done the complete count. His throat felt like it was on fire, yet each breath of air felt cleaner and fresher than the last. “But you—”

“Forget that part,” Li Lianhua said grimmly. “We have to get out now, before the dungeon collapses. Can you stand, or should I carry you?”

The words felt like a dream. Carry me? Fang Duobing was almost tempted to laugh. If anything, he expected it to be the other way around with the two of them in a dungeon, and yet— and yet. 

That wasn’t the case anymore, was it?

Fang Duobing had been prepared to charge forward into the unknown with no real weapon, determined to keep himself between Li Lianhua and danger because despite all their usual bickering and the trouble they got into regularly, Li Lianhua was often sickly and ill. He had a heart condition and a terrible immune system, and he was pale and often didn’t eat healthy enough or just enough in general, and despite the lies and the arguments and betrayals… Fang Duobing had always wanted Li Lianhua to be safe. 

Li Lianhua could keep a level head in any situation, but Fang Duobing was meant to be the one keeping both of them safe. 

Fat lot of good he did, and Li Lianhua— 

Li Lianhua— 

“No,” Fang Duobing insisted, the rasp in his voice giving way to a surge of anger. Grief. Betrayal. Of all the things, he never considered that Li Lianhua would lie about his own health, about who he was in general. Did he ever really know the other man? If they really had a connection, if they truly understood each other the way Fang Duobing always thought they did, then how did he miss this? 

How could Li Lianhua hide this? Lie about this? 

What a connection. What a similar mindset they had. With the monster now not an immediate threat, he couldn’t think of anything other than this. His entire being felt like his thoughts were resonating with this information. Was it truly a connection or had Li Lianhua lied about that as well? He lied about his identity, about his health, about little and big things, he’d lie about the colour of the sky right to Fang Duobing’s face if it amused him, wouldn’t he? 

He would say that’s just the person Li Lianhua was, but Fang Duobing truly didn’t know, did he?

He always did think that Li Lianhua’s features looked a lot like Li Xiangyi, although he was too embarrassed to bring it up after a patient pointed out the resemblance and Li Lianhua merely laughed at that, pointing out that he would have to work on the dosage of his remedies if that’s what they thought. 

But Li Lianhua’s features were both softer and sharper than Li Xiangyi’s, limbs thinner with even his stride stiffer and slower compared to Li Xiangyi’s confident movements. 

Fang Duobing would know. He’d studied Li Xiangyi enough, and stared after Li Lianhua enough. 

“No, tell me now.” Fang Duobing said, hand tightening around Li Lianhua’s wrist. “Tell me what actually happened. Tell me the truth.”

#NaNoWriMo #mlc nano 2023 #I barely got any writing done the last two days I'm sorry #but I think I need to let my brain recharge in December #but at the same time I want to finish the first part of this #I'm not even motivated about this anymore but I want to #hopefully write to the part where I get my point across at least #ya'll ever just have that need??? #you have an idea in your head and you gotta write like 30k just to get to that image? #not to mention the PLOT you vaguely came up with is gunna take way way way way longer

[wowbright]

Fic: Wedding Gifts

Fandom/pairing: Glee, Kurt/Blaine

Event: December Klaine Fanworks Challenge 2023

Words: ~2,400 words                                        

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Blaine has some unconventional wedding ideas.

Notes: This is part of my Mormon!Klaine universe. It takes place after Out of Eden, which I am still in the process of posting to AO3. It’s among the possibilities for their future. The stuff Kurt gets scandalized about is related to LDS wedding/temple ceremonies, which members are not supposed to replicate outside the temple.

* * *

“Oh my gosh, Blaine. We are not doing a presentation at the veil at our public, outdoor wedding.” Kurt spoke firmly, but how was he going to possibly win this argument? Of course Blaine would bring it up when they were naked in bed, Blaine’s legs sprawled over Kurt's thighs, his head on Kurt's chest, and Kurt an absolute pool of jelly, his brain and body spent from the things Blaine had done to him.

Let's try a new position, Blaine had said. But it hadn't just been a position. It had been a revelation: Blaine hovering over him, praising his cock and demanding things of it that Kurt wasn't sure it could deliver, not letting him come and not letting him come when Blaine was riding him past all sanity, their hands clasped together at the side of Kurt’ head and Blaine using them for leverage, pushing against them as he lifted himself up and then plunged himself back down onto Kurt's erection, over and over again, and stammering and moaning and bossy in a way that he never was outside of bed and that he had only recently begun to let himself be in it, and Kurt really did like it when Blaine got that way, because it meant that all his reservations were gone, he was afraid of nothing, and so when Blaine told him No, not yet Kurt, you can’t come yet, I still need you inside me, I need you to fuck me so slowly, I need your cock filling me up and oh stretching me and you’re oh yes you’re so big give it to me oh yes like that Kurt yeah Kurt fuck me like that give it to me give it to me I love your cock I love you oh yes— Well. It was Kurt’s pleasure to oblige.

“It's not public,” Blaine said innocently, running his thumb back and forth over Kurt’s nipple. “We sent out invitations.”

“You know what I mean. There will be non-members there. And what about the members. Are you trying to give them heart attacks?”

Blaine propped himself up on one elbow and looked down on Kurt with a seductive smile. “You mean, like I gave your member a heart attack?”

“Don't you dare bring up that mind-blowing sex when we’re talking about our relatives.”

Blaine smirked. “It was pretty mind blowing, though, wasn't it? Kurt, the things you do with your—"

“Ahem.” Kurt cleared his throat. How was he getting hard again already? When he'd orgasmed, it had felt like Blaine was pulling every last ounce of delight from the center of his body and out onto the surface, out into Blaine. But apparently his body had some secret stores Kurt didn’t know about—or, more likely, Blaine had spilled his own pleasure back into Kurt, and was doing so again now, recharging him body and soul. “You will not use orgasms as a bargaining chip in our wedding planning.”

“It wasn't just the orgasms that made it mind-blowing, though, was it?” Blaine said, and Kurt almost answered but then decided not to, because he refused to let Blaine distract him into agreeing with his cockamamie wedding ideas. He made a face at Blaine that he hoped approximated a glare.

“Oh, fine. Be that way,” Blaine said, flopping onto his back. “But who cares what they think? This wedding is for us, not them.”

“Um, technically it is for them, Blaine. Given that we're already legally married.”

“Yeah, but that was in a courthouse in front of two people we didn't even know, and this is our public declaration of love. And I want us to declare it in our own way. We said this wedding was about celebrating the roles our guests have played in our lives and inviting them to celebrate our relationship. And if people show up and they can't handle how we choose to express our love, they shouldn't come to our wedding.”

“Ah. So it's a big fuck you to your family, huh?”

“No!” Blaine pouted. “My mom would love it. She figures we're going to the celestial kingdom already. She's so bummed we can’t get sealed in the temple. But if we had a veil … and it wouldn't be the whole presentation at the veil, anyway. Just some white curtains. Lots of people have white curtains at their wedding. You have to have a canopy in case it rains, and if you have a canopy, you need to have something on the edges to keep the rain out. I'm just saying we could step through them at the start of the ceremony, instead of going down the aisle.”

In spite of himself, Kurt was becoming intrigued. He rolled on his side toward Blaine. “Together?”

“Well—” Blaine mirrored Kurt’s action. They were almost nose-to-nose. “I was thinking maybe you first, and then you could pull me through?”

Kurt almost burst out with That is not just stepping through curtains, Blaine! That's what grooms do with their brides at the veil! But Blaine looked so hopeful, and his eyes were so wide and eyelashes so long that speaking crossly would be like shooting Bambi. Kurt reached for Blaine's hand. “Are you the bride in this scenario?”

“Sort of?” Blaine said. “I don't know. It's just always the way I pictured it.”

“Always?”

“Well, since I first dreamt about it. In Germany. When I was starting to realize I was in love with you. I had a dream about you pulling me through the veil. And I couldn't explain it, but it felt so right. I guess that dream has never left me.”

“You never told me about that.”

Blaine shrugged. “It never came up. But now we have a wedding where we can do everything the way we want, the way that speaks to us? This speaks to me, Kurt.”

With the way Blaine was looking at him, that tender look that always made Kurt feel like he’d been blessed more than any other human being in the history of human beings, Kurt wanted to say yes. But if he did that, he would be ignoring his own gut. And if Blaine had taught him anything, it was that they didn't have to do that with each other. “I don't know, Blaine. I'll have to think about it. I know my relationship with the temple has changed, but it still feels … I don't know, maybe too bold? Besides, one of us pulling the other through—isn't that a little heteronormative? Just because you like to bottom doesn't make you a bride.”

“Oh, but you see, it's the opposite of heteronormative! It's reclamation. It's a challenge to narrow gender roles and the church’s myopic vision of family.” Blaine’s joyous smile turned sly. “Besides, can you really call what I just did with you bottoming?”

Kurt snickered. “You mean, because you were on top in more ways than one?

Blaine crawled over Kurt. They slotted their hands together on either side of Kurt's head. “I can take charge again for you, if you want. I know how tired you get, how you sometimes need a break from holding the reins.”

“Are you talking about sex or about wedding planning?”

Blaine smirked. “Maybe both.”

“Because next thing you're going to tell me is that you want mirrors at the wedding.”

“Well—”

“No!” Kurt protested, but it came out with a peal of giggles. “We are not doing mirrors. If you need us to stand between two mirrors so that we can see our coupledom infinitely reflected back to us, we can order that for the honeymoon suite.”

“Hmmm.” Blaine lowered himself onto Kurt, pressing the beginnings of his renewed erection onto Kurt’s belly. “That's not a bad idea.”

“You like that?” Kurt said, returning the gift by pressing his own reburgeoning arousal into Blaine’s flesh. “Besides, wouldn’t that be better? To see us naked together, joined in the flesh for eternity, me inside you and, if you want …” In spite of himself and the fact that they were already baring themselves to each other, Kurt felt himself blush. “… you inside me?”

Blaine's eyes went wide, whether from surprise or arousal, Kurt wasn't sure. “You'd want that?”

Kurt shrugged. He could be coy, too. “Only one way to find out.”

“Have you tried …?” Blaine wiggled his fingers against Kurt’s meaningfully.

Kurt wasn't sure whether to nod or shake his head. “Sort of? I mean, I did it in high school a couple times but I would get self-conscious and stop. And I’ve tried it a little when we've been apart, but I've never come from it—not because I don't think I could, but because…” Kurt felt himself flush all the way up to his hairline. “I wanted to save that for you? Which, talking about heteronormative—”

“You want me to do that, now?” Blaine said quietly, with the calm sincerity of reading a scripture verse. “You want me to finger you?”

Kurt nodded.

The initial stretch wasn't as intense as Kurt expected. Maybe that was because of the orgasm he'd had less than an hour ago, or maybe it was thanks to his occasional practice. Still, he let out a guttural moan that would have embarrassed him if it wasn't this and it wasn't with Blaine.

“You okay?” whispered Blaine.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kurt panted. “Keep—” A spark ignited deep in Kurt’s groin. “Oh!” He had liked this in high school. He’d enjoyed it in each of his practice sessions. But here, with Blaine on top of him, kissing him and moving his finger carefully inside him, it was beyond enjoyment. Because it was them—their bodies moving together, serving each other. Because with Blaine, Kurt could be himself, free and unashamed.

Blaine slid his finger in and out, whispering to him softly, asking him what he liked and what he wanted and what felt good, “because I want you to feel good, Kurt, I want you to feel so good.”

And Kurt tried to be snarky, but it came out as, “Not so—oh—not so—yes. Blaine.—not so bossy—oh God oh God oh God—not so bo—ahhhh—ssy now, a-are you?”

“You want more of that?” Blaine asked tenderly. “Another finger?”

And Kurt didn't even have to think about it, the words just came out of his mouth, pleading, “Yes. Oh, yes.”

Now Kurt was starting to feel the stretch, and he liked this, too, liked the way his body could open for and accommodate Blaine, liked that he'd been designed to experience pleasure in multiple ways, and now was not the time to analyze if he liked this better or the same or less or if it was just different, a different way to love Blaine and draw closer to him, a different way to experience his body and the goodness of his physicality and his desire.

“Do you want me to suck your cock?” Blaine asked like he was whispering a special request to Kurt at sacrament meeting.

Kurt shook his head. “Kiss me.”

They kissed, and kissed, and kissed—the way they used to on their little loveseat in Germany, back when they had rules about shirts on and buttoned and no making out in the bedroom and every touch was a sacred shock to the system, and they would kiss each other into fervors of passion that only more kissing could quench—only now Kurt was splayed on the bed, Blaine inside him and their dicks twitching against each other’s flesh, and it felt good, truly good, in Kurt's body and in his soul, and Blaine experimented with different ways of stroking and different speeds and “would you like another finger, Kurt? Do you think you can take three?” and everything went blurry but also exquisitely in focus: the thrum of Blaine’s body in time with his; the need inside Kurt, growing like life itself; the soft grunts and groans they each made, so that Kurt sometimes didn't know if he was moaning his own pleasure or in response to Blaine’s—not that it mattered, it all felt the same—and Kurt found himself thrusting back on Blaine's fingers as much as Blaine was thrusting into him, found himself delirious with the pleasure of it, found himself calling out yes yes yes yes yes yes oh Blaine yes and when Blaine asked, “Do you want to come?” Kurt couldn’t answer because he wanted to but also he didn’t want this feeling to stop and so he spread his thighs out as far as he could and took Blaine’s fingers just a fraction deeper and that—oh, that, oh, Blaine, you’re inside me Blaine, fuck me, Blaine, you’re—

“Oh, Kurt, you’re so hot, you’re so beautiful, I want you so much Kurt, oh Kurt, oh Kurt, I can’t help it, I think I’m gonna come—"

And Kurt held Blaine’s face as he came, watched his mouth drop open and his eyes go wide but never losing their focus on Kurt, making Kurt feel like he was some sort of miracle, and maybe he was, because they were, they were a miracle when they moved together like this and when they loved each other, and Blaine’s semen fell warm upon Kurt’s belly and yes, yes Blaine, I want to come, I want to come for you.

It was like an earthquake and a blessing and a thousand metaphors that Kurt would never have the language for, because Kurt never had the language to describe the level of ecstasy that Blaine kept bringing him to, for the depth of love that existed between them.

“That was okay?” Blaine said a few minutes later, when they’d caught their breath and the faculty for forming complete sentences had returned to them.

Kurt burst into laughter. “Yeah, Blaine, it was okay.”

“You want to try it again sometime?”

“If you're amenable.”

Blaine smiled and kissed Kurt's cheek. “You want me to deflower you?”

“You mean, more than you already have?”

Blaine nodded knowingly.

“I was thinking …” Again, Kurt felt the familiar heat return to his face. “Maybe on our wedding night? Or on our honeymoon?”

“Hmmmm,” Blaine said with a teasing look. “That's not too heteronormative?”

Kurt bit his lower lip as he shook his head. “Nope. It’s a wedding gift.”

“For you or me?”

Kurt rolled onto Blaine and kissed his chin, his cheek, his forehead. “That’s the beauty of it. We’ll find out together.”

#december klaine challenge 2023 #day 4: presentation #mormon!klaine #wowbright writes fic #klaine fic #klaine fanfic #klaine fanfiction #also the characters in here argue about whether things are heteronormative or not #you may not agree with their judgments but hey that's cool #but whether they are heteronormative or not their views are their own and have grown from their particular mix of baggage and liberation #so if you don't like it sorry I didn't know how else to write the characters #and stay true to them #at least they are dialoguing about it #which makes it sound like this story might be emotionally intense #when actually it is just them having fun arguing over wedding plans and getting sexy

[nonbinaryhatboxghost]

2:33pm. Been a minute. I am still overall doing okay. The Maine trip I mentioned back in September did successfully happen. All of the stuff that was in Maine was great. I got to experience so much New England autumn. Quality time with my dad went well. My Stephen King nerddom was very much indulged. Maybe I’ll post pictures at some point.

The RI part of the visit was not so successful. Seeing my grandparents was great, but being back in the RI house that I lived in for so long was a terrible experience. I don’t think I can ever stay in that house again. Without Jack (my late family cat, he passed away this year at age 19), there’s nothing really there to hide the sad cycle that’s happening in that house.

Work bullshit continues. That is admittedly my norm now.

Personal life stuff is generally going well. My anxiety does continue trying to find ways to ruin it, but I’m doing my best to not let that happen.

I recently did a week and a half of cat-sitting/apartment-sitting for a couple friends. The cat-sitting part went great, she was a sweetheart to me. That definitely helped with the isolation part of the gig. I really didn’t think hard enough about what staying in an apartment without a car and far from my social circle would do to my brain.

I’ve accepted that December holidays no longer make me happy due to many memories of forced interactions and pressure to Do Something & Be Happy. I instead did a couple of low-key things this year that were what I wanted.

I’m feeling a bit off today because I’m doing some mild self-isolation. A friend of mine recently tested positive for COVID and while I have tested negative, and it’s been 5 days since I last saw said friend, I felt like I should be safe and stay in. It’s also cold and I’ve been so mentally exhausted from work that I’ve been using this extended weekend mostly to catch up on sleep and recharge.

But while I have done things like go to a movie theater or sometimes out to eat over the last couple months, I feel like I’m reverting a little bit to lockdown mode. Maybe it’s the rising case numbers, maybe it’s hearing about all the airline shenanigans. Maybe it’s my whole hiding-from-everything instinct that happens when I’m low or upset.

A little while ago, I became very fixated on The Weeknd. There was a live performance of his that I found from 2020. Specifically the November 2020 American Music Awards. LA was still in lockdown. He walks up and down an empty bridge street that is lined with fireworks. At the end, the camera pulls back and up and up as the city is shown behind the bridge, and The Weeknd gets smaller and smaller. Fireworks burst outside of the bridge. I have revisited this performance more times than I can count not just because of the music, but because it captures the specific time and place and feeling of lockdown for me in 2020. The Weeknd sings over and over again “save your tears for another day” as the city behind him is quiet and empty, even though there are still people there trapped inside their homes.

I keep rewatching it. I think it may be because I still feel trapped. Again, I’ve been outside, I’ve interacted with folks. But I still wear a mask at work every day and have just accepted that I’m one of the only people in the office that does that. If I’m invited to a gathering of more than half a dozen people, it is more likely that I won’t go. I left the choir I was a part of because I didn’t feel safe singing inside with a large group of folks without masks. I made the mistake of going to the zoo with a couple friends on the 26th and was completely unprepared for the LARGE number of people and families there, most of whom were unmasked. I was masked the whole time but I still felt unsafe.

Wearing a mask isn’t a problem for me. I just know that I can’t keep cutting myself off and distracting myself with fixations long-term. I need a social or creative outlet again, but I don’t feel safe enough to look for one.

On a petty note, Avatar: The Way of Water is a bad movie. I recommend not giving it money. It has enough.

[medowlarken]

🎅Larken’s December Update!🎅

i’m back, baby

it’s been a while, but i’m finally free from the clutches of nanowrimo. i took a bit of a break to let my brain recharge and i’m already itching to get to writing-- i spent the weekend writing a blog post about getting to 50k if anyone’s interested. just shoot me a dm for the link :)

i’m about halfway through the first draft for what i’m calling project feather. it’s an adult adventure/fantasy idea i’ve had for a while but never developed until recently-- think of it as a cross between aot, journey to the center of the earth, and annihilation. it’s been a lot of fun to write and i really want to complete the whole draft within the next year. it’ll probably be my new years resolution  

i’m going back to the states for christmas so i’m gunna be busy again, but i’m still trying to finish something this month. it’ll probably be that drabble prompt that’s been sitting in my inbox-- so keep an eye out for that

lavender milk kind of blew up over the past few weeks. it might even surpass dmas for hits at this rate. i’ve said it before, but thank y’all so much for all the love and support :)))

ahhhh i dont really have anything else to say at the moment. i’m going to try and start building a content writing portfolio in the new year. i have a profile on upwork but if you know of anyone who needs a freelancer for blog or ghost writing shoot me a dm! i’m also open to paid commission work for fics or general creative writing

i hope you all have a very happy christmas and new year! 🎉

#update #text post

[dailyaudiobiblechronological]

12/2/2022 DAB Chronological Transcription

1 Corinthians 12-14

Welcome to the Daily Audio Bible Chronological, I'm China. Today is the second day of December. Welcome. I realized that yesterday I didn't even like do an acknowledgement that we are in the last month of the year. Wow, I feel like we blinked and we got here. I'm telling you, I was sitting in this chair not that long ago saying, take some deep breaths, we're going to blink. It's going to go by. It's going to go by so quick. And it did. And now here we are and we're going to settle for a second and then we're going to blink and then it's going to be January 1 and we're like, how did we get here? That's what happens every year. And every year it takes me by surprise. But it's so great to be here with you today to read the Word of the Lord. Of the word. The word of the Lord....words. Okay, I was going to say he is the Word and he was the word in the beginning. I think I'm hungry and tired. I read something a while ago that said if you are tripping over your words, it's the sign that you are hungry. So I guess my brain is like, feed me, but let's feed on the word of the Lord. Hopefully that wasn't as cringy as it sounded coming out of my mouth. Promise I'll eat something afterwards. But let's come together and continue on in the book of First Corinthians, we are in chapters 12 through 14. Continuing on with The Voice translation for this week.

Commentary:

Now let me turn, I think that last sentence sums it all up so perfectly. Just maintain the proper order and all things. Just do these things, desire these things to edify and uplift and encourage the church. Now, I will say, I think Paul really set this whole thing that he wanted to say up really well by starting these few chapters together. Really just, I mean, it's all one letter. But the chapters that we read today are really set up well because he's talking about one part of the body can't say, oh, I'm better than you or I don't need you. Which we then kind of are putting the pieces together. Hey, wait, the body of Christ can't do this. If you are someone who has this gift, you can't say, wait, I don't need you. Truth is, we all need each other because we are under one head, which is God. And so if we are all different parts, we all play different roles and we all need each other and we are all placed together intricately and we are all in need of each other. So let this be a reminder, especially for those who, I'm including myself in this, feel like you can do life sometimes alone, or maybe not alone, but you can just be like, I'm kind of okay, like an introvert sometimes I can be a little too introverted. If I'm recharged, if I haven't recharged enough and I'm like, I need to be alone all week, that turns into a long time very quickly. Like, that happened to me as part of my story after postpartum, and it just turned into a whole year of isolation. And so I would just encourage you, don't do that. Don't stay in a place of wait, I don't need people, I don't need that. I don't need the body. I'm good, I can be alone or tell yourself the lie, I'm not needed. I'm not this you know what? I'm not a hand. I'm just an eye. Like OK, but eyes are important and hands are great, but eyes are also important. And the Lord made you, it made you that. And so I remember there's so many different times in my life that I've had that either I've had to or that I chosen to take this test. But there actually are spiritual gift tests that you can take online. I don't have one that I would recommend over the other. It's something that you can take if you're curious. Also, if you know your spiritual gift, great, but if you don't, that's okay. You can ask the Lord to give it to you. You can ask people who are around you, but I would definitely ask the Lord first. But there are tests that you can take if you are curious about them. Again, I don't have one that I recommend. Don't ask me. Just do your own research. Find one that you feel like is good, that isn't a billion questions. And if you get a result that you're like, wow, I'm kind of shocked by this. What do you say about this? And if you're like, I don't know about this, you can take a different test or do with it whatever you want, basically. But they can be helpful because if you're someone who's like, I don't really know and that's okay to not know, it's totally okay. I remember I had taken mine and I was like, okay. But I'm kind of like surprised by this one because I think it'd be this one. And so it's just really what you feel. So ask the Lord truly, he'll tell you. But it is helpful to know one especially, or if you are part of a church community and you are serving, it's helpful for that to know, like, where you really do want to serve and where you could be helpful. And not just in the walls of the church, but also outside of the walls of the church as well. If you have the gift of administration, like I do, figure out where that can be really greatly cultivated. Get around people who also have the gift of administration and learn from people like that. Get around people who are maybe not super great at administration and learn from them. If you have the gift of song, great use that to bring forth community and to bring praise to the Lord. You know what I'm saying? Like, Paul did a great job of breaking all this down, so I don't feel like it needs to be disintegrated anymore. I think he set this up beautifully and perfectly, and I love how he ended it, where it was. Oh, gosh, I can't even remember what he said. But do this in order and do this well, and do this to edify each other and to edify the name of the Lord. Do it properly and also remember that you can have all of these things. You can have whatever you think is the coolest spiritual gift ever. You could have all of them. You could test and break the Dang website and be like, wow, I'm super cool. But if you don't have love and if you are struggling with loving others as you love yourself or even loving yourself or loving God, we just got to all be combined. I'm convinced then you are as about as pleasing to be around as a loud gong. That's what you sound like. Nobody likes them. If I'm in a restaurant where I see that, I'm like, I'm going to the other side just in case even somebody like, bumps up against this. Absolutely not. I don't want to hear that, let alone like a movie or a show where that's playing like, no, nobody likes that. I do not do not play that. I'm turning it down. I'm muting this. That is what you sound like. If you do not have love, annoying, terrible, should be muted. Stop talking. Stop being around. Like, where's the mute button? And I got to tell myself that sometimes, too, like, hey, where's the love? Right here. I hear you. You are justified in your boundaries. You are justified in your sadness or anger or whatever, and we cannot say, hey, I'm going to just put up all these walls or boundaries, whatever you want to call them. And I do believe in boundaries. I'm just trying to figure out this is inside. I'm trying to figure out what is a healthy boundary, because you have to communicate your boundaries or else people don't know that your boundaries are up there, and then they're just crossing this line and they don't know it, and you're just even more triggered and upset and angry. You have to communicate. Okay, just another thing I want to say. You can't live in your own boundary walls and be like, okay, this is love. That's what I'm trying to ask the Lord. Like, Lord, I'm confused about this because there are situations where I'm like, no, no, no, truly, I cannot keep self-sabotaging this. I have to put up some boundaries here. I have to communicate them. So I feel like sometimes boundaries can be a form of loving yourself well and being like, hey, I actually can love you better if we have some open communication if we have some groundworks maybe that's now that I'm processing a little bit more, maybe, but also if we disagree, that's okay too. I am just trying to say we can't be like, oh, I'm hurt you don't get love. And I'm not excluding myself from those conversations. I have them probably more frequently than I would like to admit. It's like, you've hurt me, I'm going to push you away. And then it's like, wait, I'm not actually even loving you or the good old fashioned Christians, but I'm going to love you from afar. It's like, what does that mean? And I think all those things have validity, but I hope you hear what I'm saying. We have to have love in our hearts. We have to truly have love in our hearts and not just say, man, I wish you will still talk about you every time I can. I still cry whenever I hear your name or have so much hurt and anger that I don't even know what to do with it. Like, what? That's not love. We gotta work that out. We got to see what's going on there. We have to really do some digging there. But I think I'm getting off topic now. I think Paul, everything that he said is good and true and even some things that he says get a little overlooked. But I think spiritual gifts are great. They're super valuable, and I think people should look into them and to really ask the Lord, what are my gifts? Gifting, Lord, what have you gifted me with? Maybe I know, maybe I don't, and maybe I'm going to continue to explore this. But also, Lord, help me to love more than anything. How many desire to love like you and to have love like you and to give love like you? And Father, I thank you for your word. I thank you for the goodness and the truth and the convicting and the maybe the little prickling of our heart that doesn't feel super great, but that we know that you are beckoning and welcoming us into Your presence and into Your arms and you say, I would love to show you what this looks like. I love your questions, I'd love to answer them. Come and be in this with me. 

Prayer:

And so, Lord, we just trust you, that you are safe and that when we seek you, we find you and that we can learn how to love safely because love is safe. It just is. That's one of the attributes, maybe not from Paul's writings, but it is an attribute of who you are, so therefore it has to be. And so I pray, God, that we would really just desire to love that way and to look for love that way. And I pray that you would help us, that we I thank You, God, that we can't do any of this in our own strengths, and we shouldn't think that we can. But, Father, I thank you for your word. And I thank you for your goodness and Your kindness and Your mercy that follows us all of our days. And it's in your name we pray. Amen. 

Announcements:

Dailyaudiobible.com is our website. That is a place of connection so you can see what is happening here in the community, how to get connected and stay connected. So be sure to check that out. That is all for today. I'm China. I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer Line:

Good morning, family. This is Adrian His Mighty Tortoise from Maryland. I have a request this morning for my best friend. He's been my best friend for 27 and a half years. And his wife, they've been married for 50 and a half years, but they're 76. Yeah, he's 76. So, yeah, she's 76, too. She'll be 77 in January and he'll be 77 in June. So, yeah, they've got aging issues and it's getting worse. He's got dementia now, and that's getting worse, plus a myriad of other issues. And she's got some issues herself. She was recently diagnosed with macular degeneration, and she has Crohn's disease and just other issues. But he's a very stubborn man and has always been, but his dementia is making him more stubborn. And she just told me this morning that he's not doing anything that doctors tell him to do, and she's about ready to pull her hair out. So please pray for Trudy and Lou. Pray for her health, that God keeps her healthy to take care of him. But please pray that he will. Please ask God to work through his dementia and have him cooperate with her and with the doctors. That's all we need. Please relieve his illnesses, his various issues, but he needs to work with the doctors and to work with her and not be a pain in the butt. Thank you so much. And I'm there by phone. They're an hour away, and I can't get there that often, but they just need help, all the help they can get. Thank you so much, family. This is your friend Adrian in Maryland.

Hi, DABC family. This is Chabi from Kenya. I'm calling today because it's China's birthday. To celebrate your China and say happy birthday. In honor of you, I have done a quick Google search and found that between where you are and where I am, which is the Aerobic Kenya, there's about more than 8000 miles of physical distance. And sometimes in life, China, we do things, little things, in obedience to God and his calling, but we don't know whether they are impactful. And I wanted to call you and assure you that your obedience in starting DABC has been amazingly impactful. You have reached me all the way, 8000 mile away and helped me read through the Bible for the first time in a year. Almost well, almost done. And I intend to continue. Thank you, China, for your obedience. May God bless you. May you continue to be favored, loved, may you continue to hear his voice and obey Him and to be impactful. Thank you. Thank you for the gift that you've given us and may God bless you for your kindness and your opinions. Pray for Reagan, you, pray for Ben and your whole family. May God bless you, China. I feel like you're in my family and I love you. Thank you. May God bless you and keep you. I just came here to celebrate you today and to pray a blessing over you and to assure you that you have had an amazing impact to so many of us and right now to me 8000 miles away. Thank you China, God bless you.

This is Jersey Jane for Jesus. It is Sunday the 27th and I just heard, I believe you said your name was Nora Lee from Wayne Beach. Oh, sister, you're in pain because of your relationship with your mother. It sounds like she wasn't really there for you growing up, but I heard you say you forgive her and that's exactly how Jesus is. He said on the cross, forgive them Father, for they know not what they do. Your mother does not know what she does, does not know what she did. She ignored you, she didn't help raise you up. It wasn't her fault. There was something not right with her and you do not need to drag that down into yourself. You go about strong, sister, put on the armor and believe that you know God is with you. Jesus is there, he's here right now, you will see Him one day, but right now you know where he is that he sees you. So go forward, I know it's hard, but just go forward one step at a time in his mighty name. God bless.

Good morning this is Tanya calling from Suffolk. Today is Sunday, November 27. I wanted to lift up Stephanie calling in from Florida along with her son, not reaching out to them. Heavenly father, I just want to say thank you Lord, that we love you, Heavenly Father. Lord, we know that you can do all things but fail, heavenly father, I lift up Stephanie and her son to you lord, I'm asking Lord, that you continue to have your protection around Him. Heavenly father, I'm asking Lord, that you unheard of his heart, Heavenly Father, and allow him to accept Jesus Christ as his Savior. I'm asking that you allow him to reach out to his family, as Stephanie stated, he knows that his family loves him, Heavenly Father, and I'm just trusting and believing in you Lord, that you will bring them closer together than ever, Father, and this continued to stand in on your word, Lord, and believing that it's already done. And I just want to say I love you and Lord God, just continue to strengthen them, heavenly Father, their weaknesses, Lord, whatever her son is going through heavenly Father I'm asking that you be that light Lord.

[morkleemelon]

off the ice || chapter 3: steady now

previous || m.list || playlist || next

pairing: college hockey player! mark x college figure skater! reader

genre: fluff, humor, college au, sports au

word count: 6.9k

warnings: swearing, party with drugs and alcohol, scene of borderline harassment (nothing actually happens), financial struggle, insecurity, social anxiety, mention of injury

a/n: huge thank you to my beta readers @writing-frog​ and @skiimmiilk for helping me edit this! now I won’t have to tweak it a hundred times after posting XD also (not spoiling) I’m sorry I did you like this, sungchan :(

I’m not sure if I’m awake, dead, or dreaming, but somebody please take me out of this misery.

Your neck struggled to support your head as you fought to stay conscious on the locker room bench. It was early Saturday morning and team practice was far from over. Unwillingly, you had to stay up the previous night, studying deep into the AM because a certain boy kept distracting you in your head.

Over and over again, through your shift at the diner to the ride home to right here as you clung onto Yuna’s arm for support, Mark’s cute smile and Lisa’s daring accusations spun through your tired mind. It’s really not fair- a guy talks to you once and you’re already imagining things…

You quickly shake the thoughts from your head. 

  “Alright girls, thanks for coming in so early today,” your head skating coach, Tanya, smiled warmly, “captains, get everyone warmed up and I’ll go over some exciting announcements at the end of practice”.

“Thank you, Tanya,” the fatigued girls chorused half-heartedly as the captains ushered everyone out of the locker room and into the hallway for stretching. 

Reaching down to touch her toes, Yuna looks over to you. “Y/n, are you okay? You look worse than usual”.

The exhausted expression on your face said it all as you bent down to do the same. “I’ve got a lot on my mind. Econ test is coming up too”. You yawned into your words.

“I know you’re gonna say no, but if you wanna let loose a little, there’s a party tonight,” Yuna peers at you upside-down from in between her legs.

“You know I’m not a party person,” you decline, blacking out slightly as you stand back up. You blink to clear your vision.

As much as you admired your popular best friend for putting herself out there and being able to have fun at a party, it couldn’t be you. The drinking, the smoking, the groping, ogling men- not to mention the anxiety of existing in a frat house full of judgmental people, was all too much for you. As tempting as letting loose a little on a Saturday night sounded, you’d much rather do it in a way that involves your cozy pj’s and watching your favorite skating compilations on YouTube. Alone.

“I know, I know,” Yuna holds her hands up innocently, “but it could be fun. I know Mark is gonna be there”.

You whip your head around so fast that your ponytail nearly slaps her in the face. Flustered, you smooth down the nonexistent wrinkles on the front of your skating jacket. “Oh, that’s nice. What’s that got to do with me?”.

“Just letting you know,” Yuna shrugged in a ‘matter of fact’ manner. 

The captains led the team out to the rink to do laps. You weighed Yuna’s words for a minute as you skated across the ice. Naturally, being here where you were the most comfortable with yourself made you more susceptible to her convincing ploy. If you looked at the last few days in review, you had already made four new friends from just letting Yuna take the reins for one afternoon. That’s about one friend for every dollar in your bank account!

But the nagging reality was that Yuna had a massive amount of friends, cool friends, who were probably going to be at that very party while you had nobody but her and a guy you just met. This didn’t sit well with your anxieties. You’ll just end up awkward if Yuna wants to talk to someone else, or desperate if you cling to Mark, who would probably be weirded out.

As expected, it’s best to stay in.

The practice ran smoothly. As always, the hour and a half of spinning, falling, and getting back up resulted in soreness and loss of breath. Nonetheless, it recharged you and the cloud of tiredness in your head finally dissipated. You felt so free on the ice because you knew that you did it well. It isn’t about the money or your popularity or if you have to work part time just to afford the skates that you wear. If you put in the hard work and effort, you are rewarded with success; that’s a big part of what you liked about it. 

“Excellent job today, ladies. I’d like everyone to give a special round of applause to y/n today,” Coach Tanya suddenly singled you out as the team gathered around to hear her ending announcements. Tanya gave you a warm smile and gestured towards you as you bow to your clapping teammates. “For mastering the triple lutz. I can tell you’ve been practicing extra hours, both from the log sheet and from your performance today. At this rate, we may send you to nationals in the spring”.

Gasps echo across the cold, near-empty stadium. Your jaw hung open at Tanya’s ambitious plan and Yuna grabbed onto your arm excitedly, giving you a nudge of congratulations. It was extremely rare for a sophomore to be sent to the national competitions. Even some seniors never make it past the pre-auditions at Seoul University alone. You weren’t even dreaming of going within the next year despite all of your extra night-time practices. Looking at Tanya’s face, it didn’t seem like she was joking either.

“Thank you, Coach Tanya. I will work even harder”.

“That being said, I have some exciting news pertaining to all of you ladies: this year, Seoul University is sponsoring our team to hold a friendly competition for the winter festival as a sort of main event. Don’t be alarmed because it is optional. It’s September now, so if you are interested in participating, you will have just under four months to prepare a pair skate for the festival in December. Untraditionally, the audience will be voting to choose a winner instead of a panel. Furthermore, the theme, costumes, and music will all be up to you, so have fun with it! Oh and not to mention, the winning pair will be rewarded a monetary prize of $5,000 each”.

Shocked looks were exchanged between teammates. Your brain was still processing to make sure you heard Tanya right as she reiterated.

“Yes,” Tanya laughed, “you heard me right, girls, $5,000 each. It’s a tremendous opportunity and if not for the money, for a chance to practice performing in front of a crowd”.

Murmurs of excitement hush across the near-empty stadium.

“Yuna,” you look up to the taller girl and grip her arm with both hands, “Yuna please we gotta do this”. You shake her slightly with your pleading, “be my partner?”.

The blonde giggled, “duh, of course! Lisa and Hope will probably do it together since they’re both on JV so it’s perfect. Let’s get that ten grand for you!”.

“Wait no, but-”

“Y/n. You know I’m not about to argue with you about this,” Yuna sighed, looking up to the fluorescent ceiling lights to avoid your indignant stare. You relaxed your grip on her arm, knowing that you wouldn’t win this fight no matter how guilty you felt. “You’re better than me by a long shot. If anyone could bet on a winner, they’d put their money on you without a doubt. And if we win it’ll be because of you, so think of it as a fair split based on contribution. I’ll take a $20 cut to buy us dinner,” Yuna encouraged. 

You close your eyes and rest the side of your head on her shoulder.

That’s my best friend. I don’t deserve her.

You felt bad, but you knew that you needed this money more than anything right now. Your parents didn’t earn much and they were already burdened by this semester’s tuition, even with the scholarships. Picking up extra shifts at Frankie’s did little more than cover skating fees and rent. The heavy, looming fear of next semester being the one when you’d have to drop out often kept you up at night. It’s nobody’s fault, but that’s how it is.

Yet like a miracle angel sent from Heaven, this competition could cover an entire semester’s worth of tuition if you win. You needed the prize money desperately. You were going to have to win it no matter what.

“Bye!”. You waved to your teammates as they exited the locker room, probably to go out and be social on a Saturday afternoon. Unfortunately for you, your only plans were to sit alone at the library, studying.

“You seriously don’t wanna join us for lunch today?”. Yuna slung her skating bag over her shoulder. Her wet hair from just showering stuck to her face, but even like this she looked like she could be on the cover of a teen magazine.

“I’ll pass. I can grab a salad from the convenience store before I head to the library. Midterms are coming up and I gotta do a lot of review,” you explain, brushing a wide comb through your tangled mess of hair. Yuna moved to pull her hair back into a ponytail. You watched as her perfectly sculpted reflection made an action so simple into a reason for envy. The stained locker room mirror, however, did your bare face no favors. Your best friend remained oblivious as you picked yourself apart again. Your cheeks were a little too round, nose a little too wide, eyebrows a little too uneven. You shove the brush in your bag and turn around before you could fall deeper in insecurity. “Let’s go”.

As always, you chose to disregard your insecure thoughts and pretend like they never existed. Talking about it seemed weird, so you just chose not to do it. And you didn’t like bothering other people with your problems either. It was best to just keep it to yourself. 

“Y/n!,” a familiar voice called out from behind you. You stopped walking down the stadium corridor, turning around to see who could’ve known your name. Usually it’s Yuna getting stopped by one of her many friends.

Ashy blonde hair came into view as the boy jogged to catch up with you. Your legs were doing just fine after over an hour and a half of training, but they trembled at the sight of a certain dreamy junior boy.

“Hey, fancy seeing you here,” Mark smiled down at you, the dim hallway lights catching on his cheekbones and jawline, accentuating his beautifully sculpted features. 

“I’ll see you later,” Yuna winked, patting you on the back and making a break for the exit before you could protest.

“I-uh, hey, Mark,” you stutter. Was it just you or did he get even more good-looking since the last time you saw him?

“Did you guys just get out of practice?”. You could hardly pay attention to his simple question as you checked him out. Mark sported a simple outfit consisting of a plain black hoodie with matching black joggers and sneakers. His red hockey bag which was slung across his back was supported by one of his thumbs. With the sleeves of his hoodie rolled up to his elbows, you watch as the lines of his forearm muscles shift and strain with each fine movement from the weight of the duffel.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah! We did,” you answer after an awkward pause. Oh, God, please let that not have been weird. “Are you here for your practice?”. You mentally slap yourself for your stupid question; he’s wearing gym clothes and has his hockey gear, what else was he going to do at the rink?

“Yeah, I am,” Mark laughed good-naturedly, leaning slightly on the wall next to you, “I came here a bit early, actually. I was hoping to catch you”.

Catch...me?

Your face flushed at his heart-fluttering remark. Contesting with the urge to spontaneously burst into flames, you try your best to give a steady reply, “Oh! What for?”.

“I-uh,” Mark diverted his gaze down to his shoes, “I know I got your number from the group chat, but I wanted to ask you in person. There’s a party tonight at the sheep’s house- my friend’s house- and I was wondering if I was gonna see you there”.

You simultaneously wanted to sink into the floor to disappear forever and jump into the air to celebrate. You did neither. 

Was he asking you out? Not really. But then again, he wants to see you there at the party. And he came here early to specially ask you in person. 

You replay the debate you had with Yuna earlier. Past-you had made some valid points about not going, but how could you say no when he put it like this?… oh, fuck it.

“For sure. I’ll be there”. You offer a wry smile to try to cover your nervousness.

“Awesome,” Mark’s eyes twinkled as he smiled, “can’t wait to see you tonight, then”. 

“Can’t wait,” you echoed. You couldn’t help but notice how he was a few inches taller and you had to tilt your head back to meet his soft, brown eyes.

“I should probably get down to the rink to set up for practice”

“Oh okay! Don’t let me keep you”

“Not at all”. His fingers shifted to adjust the strap of his hockey bag and your eyes brushed over the ripple of his forearm. He was doing the bare-minimum and your knees were ready to buckle in the middle of the hallway. 

“I’ll get going then!,” you excuse yourself with a curt wave. Turning around, you head briskly for the exit before you could embarrass yourself further and agree to more irrational proposals. 

Before your hand could even touch the exit door to let yourself out, reality hit.

Oh no. I have to go to the party.

Yuna squealed and pounced you onto your bed as you told her the news. “I can’t believe it! You’re really gonna go?”.

You run a stressed hand through your wavy locks, “I guess? He didn’t leave me much of a choice”. Rolling around on your bed, your best friend clapped and cheered despite your wanting to travel back in time and tell Mark you couldn’t make it. But how were you supposed to say no to that face? Thanks to this, your library study session was far from focused or helpful.

“We gotta get you looking hot, y/n. I mean, you’re already hot,” Yuna corrected, “but even more hot for your first college party”.

Hopping off your now messed-up covers, you go to observe yourself in the full-body mirror in all your said ‘hotness’. You were currently enveloped in a grouchy oversized tee shirt that you got from a choir field trip in high school paired with plain gym shorts hidden underneath. Your hair was especially frizzy from being air-dried after your shower. 

“The only hot I am is a hot mess,” you groaned. Did you look like this when Mark saw you earlier? Shit.

“Nonsense, silly,” Yuna hugged you from behind, “you’re adorable and you’d be surprised how much hair, makeup, and a good fit can change someone”. She looked into your eyes eagerly through the mirror as if asking for permission. You were too nervous about the party to deny her so you gave your roommate a reluctant nod. It was better that she helped you get ready so you could fit in and thus blend into the background.

Squealing again, Yuna gave you a squeeze and scurried to flit through her closet for something you could wear. 

“Go straighten your hair, y/n!”

“Yes ma’am”. This much you could do. “How’s this?”. Yuna held up a skimpy bralette top, its white lace barely covering any surface area at all. 

“That’s a top?!”

“Ok nevermind”. Tossing the tiny piece aside, your roommate continued sifting earnestly through her collection of expensive clothes.

You ran the straightener through your partitioned hair carefully. 

“What about this one?”. Yuna held up a simple red crop top. A small notch ran an inch down the neckline which gave it a little edge, but it seemed like it would be in your comfort zone.

“That’s perfect,” you smile.

Hair now pin straight and finally smooth, you change into the red top and ripped black denim shorts Yuna picked out for you. Your best friend was much better at makeup than you were, so you let her take the lead once again. The only times you wear full makeup are for performances and you would look like a complete clown if you showed up with the two inch eyeliner you knew how to do. 

Applying a small amount of base makeup to your face, Yuna went for a more natural look, knowing that you weren’t comfortable with standing out too much. Subtle brown eyeshadow and lengthening mascara made your eyes pop just the right amount and a cherry lip balm tinted your lips a translucent, shiny red. Even you had to admit your confidence was boosted from the new look you weren’t used to seeing in the mirror. 

That’s me. I’m… kind of pretty

“Aw, honey, you look so beautiful,” Yuna cooed, wrapping up your makeover with a clap. She did her own makeup effortlessly and put on the discarded bralette from earlier. However ridiculous it looked on the hanger, she made it look like a million bucks and it suited her perfectly. 

You moved to sit on your bed and lace up your trusty white sneakers. Yuna wore a bigger shoe size than you which came as a relief because you weren’t sure if you could handle wearing any of the daring stiletto pumps in her collection. 

“You know, I’m so happy you’re going to come this time. I was always really sad when you stayed home studying every weekend instead of going out and having fun”.

“I would’ve gone if I knew how to talk to people,” you reason, picking at the dirty aglet of your shoelace, “and I’m honestly really nervous right now. You better not leave me, okay?”.

“You’re so sweet and thoughtful, anyone would be lucky to talk to you! I know it’s easier said than done, but you’d be surprised what a little confidence will do. And of course, I won’t leave you”. Yuna gave you a bright, reassuring smile before pulling you off the bed. 

You take one last look at your reflection in the mirror.

That’s right, confidence. I’m confident.

“Let’s go”

The walk down to the party was much shorter than you expected. Turns out, the ‘Sheep’ lived in that sketchy house just off of campus which you made a point to avoid during your nighttime jogs. The tables were turning as you approached the rickety front porch on purpose. You clung to Yuna as an array of neon lights shines through the window blinds and the open door. The bass of a generic pop song jolted through your bones. 

Walking into the home, your grip on Yuna’s arm tightened as unfamiliar faces surrounded you. The crowded room stank of sweaty bodies and weed. A countertop stocked full of red solo cups and different types of alcohol was visible from where you stood. Heads turned to stare at Yuna while the two of you entered.

What am I doing here?

“Hey, you made it!,” an unfamiliar voice shouted from over the ruckus. Your eyes fell nervously on the voice’s owner. He had dark brown hair and sharp, defined features. His accent was strange, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. 

“Hey!”. Yuna brought the stranger in for a loose hug. “Yangyang, this my roommate and best friend, y/n. Y/n this is Yangyang also known as ‘the sheep’. He’s from Germany”.

Ah, Germany.

You offer him a small wave, surprised when he pulls you unexpectedly into a hug. 

“Nice to meet you, y/n. Mark’s told me all about you,” Yangyang smirked, “please help yourself to drinks, girls. The guys are in the basement playing pong”.

“Woo! Let’s get wasted!” Yuna yelled while pulling you towards the drinks.

You stood awkwardly at her side as she poured both of you drinks- a half a solo cup of strawberry vodka for her and a sprite zero for you. You wish you could be in bed, curled up alone with a good movie. Or even at the library studying-

“Hey,” a deep voice right next to your ear wrecked your train of thought. Alarmed, your eyes were met with the middle of a chest as you turned around to see who it was. Craning your head back, an unfamiliar, tall boy with stiffly-gelled brown hair looked down at you. You winced at the acrid smell of axe body spray now flooding your nostrils. He looked young, maybe even younger than you, but he was clearly very drunk. “Where have you been all my life?”.

“Excuse me?,” you exclaim over the booming music. The boy placed his hands on the counter on either side of you, trapping you in between his arms. Looking over to find Yuna, she had already shifted deeper into the crowd and was busy talking with other people. 

“I’m Sungchan,” the boy unwelcomingly introduced, “what’s your name, beautiful?”.

“I-uh I’m y/n,” you stuttered. Sungchan’s face was way too close for comfort and his breath stank of cheap alcohol. You felt his humid exhalation brush over the top of your head like a toxic cloud and you fought to not gag.

“Y/n. You come here with anyone?”. You pressed your back as far into the counter as you could to get away from him, but there was little room to go. Fear began to set in as you realized you were trapped. What should I say? What do I do?

“I-I…” 

“She came here with me”. A firm hand gripped Sungchan’s left arm and yanked it forcefully away from the counter. Your saving grace put a gentle hand on your shoulder, tugging you slightly away from the drunk perpetrator. Struggling to comprehend what was happening, you looked up to see it was Mark, staring the intoxicated boy down. 

“C-captain”

“What’s a freshman doing with my girl?” Mark pressed. His expression was unamused. 

Your heart trembled at his unanticipated lie. His girl? Mark brushed a reassuring thumb over your shoulder, clueing to you that he would handle this. 

“I didn’t know, I-”

“Sungchan, right? You still trying to make varsity next year?,” Mark interrupted, eyebrows raised in annoyance at the freshman. Sungchan’s eyes went wide as he held both hands up innocently.

“Y-yes I-”

“Misconduct can get you kicked off the team, you know. Not to mention I’ll be senior captain next year so I’ll have a say in who makes it into varsity”.

“I’m sorry, captain, I really didn’t-”

“Fuck off”. Mark gestured his free hand towards the open front door. Sungchan looked around, as if unsure what to do. The surrounding party-goers danced and drank on, unaware of the altercation and more interested in who they were going home with tonight. Finally, the lanky boy’s head cleared enough to make a decision. Sungchan bowed slightly in apology and stumbled towards the exit. The untouched solo cup of sprite fizzed in your shaking hands.

“Are you okay?”. Mark faced you with a concerned look.

You clenched your grip tighter around your drink as you fought back tears, the shock wearing off and the gravity of the situation hitting you full-on. You set the cup down and shake your head no.

“Do you want to get out of here?”.

You nod your head vigorously and tears began streaming down your cheeks. What a waste, all of Yuna’s hard work down the drain. Mark nudged you forward and guided you towards a back door. Weaving your way through the crowd, Mark greeted his friends with a “hey” or a simple nod. You felt a few girls eye you discontentedly at the sight of Mark’s hand ghosting over the small of your back while others were too high or drunk to notice. The cool night air welcomed you as Mark urged you outside and you rushed to escape the cramped house. He shut the door behind him, muffling the heavy bass so you could finally hear yourself think.

Dabbing away at your tears so he wouldn’t see, you breathe deeply to regain your composure. 

“Thanks for that”. You managed to let out after a few minutes of sniffling and silence. Your voice was slightly hoarse and you couldn’t meet his eyes, but he waited patiently by your side. 

So much for coming to this party, he probably thinks I’m a mess. This whole thing was a huge mistake. 

“I think I’ll go. Sorry I can’t stay”. You turn to walk down the wooden porch steps.

“Wait-”. Mark’s voice halts your departure. “Would you like to go on a walk with me? Or I can at least take you home. I don’t want you going out alone after what just happened…”. 

Looking up at him, the dim porch light glowed behind him, giving him a soft golden halo. His brown eyes which were usually smiling now shone with worry as he scanned over your tear-stricken face. Your heart which was beating rapidly from fear earlier began to settle down in his reassuring presence. Being alone right now might not be the best idea. But more importantly, being with him sounded like what you really needed. You nod.

The sound of crickets chirping and sneakers scuffing took over as the two of you walked farther away from the booming music of the party. You weren’t sure where you were headed, but you also didn’t know if there was anywhere you wanted to go. Wandering down the deserted streets in comfortable silence, Mark followed you patiently as he waited for you to be ready to talk. Before you knew it, your feet brought you to the lake and you stood watching the water ripple under the night breeze. The moon, almost full, illuminated silver each ebb and flow.

“I’m sorry you’re missing the party”. You quietly broke the silence. You felt bad for making him leave. All of his friends were there and he probably really looked forward to it. 

“Don’t be. I only went so I could talk to you, anyways”

You look at him in surprise. Mark’s eyes remained glued to the lake, sparkling from the reflected moonlight.

“How many girls have you told that to?,” you scoff. Internally, you screamed.

“Couldn’t name another one”

You pause before resolving to stroll further down the lakeside. The sound of footsteps behind you confirmed that he was following. Stopping as you reach the familiar creaky wood, you take a seat on the worn-out dock, him on your right. You dangle your feet over the dark, sloshing waves. It was cool, despite the summer season. A breeze rolled by, making you shudder. However cute the crop top was, it didn’t do much to keep you warm. Not that you could have planned on running away from the party and needing a sweatshirt beforehand.

“Here, take this”. Mark unzipped his jacket to give to you.

“Oh it's ok-”. You couldn’t finish your protest before the warm fabric was draped across your shoulders. Your face grew pink once more. If you didn’t know better, you could be admitted to the hospital for how much you’ve been blushing recently. “Thanks,” you mutter, looking down at your hands with a small smile. 

“Is that Frankie’s?”. Mark’s voice cut through the silence.

“What?”

“Is that Frankie’s?,” Mark repeated, nodding at the small restaurant bordering the lake some distance away. It looked as if it had just closed, yellow fluorescent lights still on while a tired waitress scrubbed away at a table. Only one car, probably her’s, remained in the parking lot.

“Oh, yeah. That’s where I work part time,” you confirmed. “I come here to the dock to sit sometimes. You know, just to think”.

“I feel that. Sometimes everything is way too much to handle and you need to take time to breathe. I have a place like this too”

Mark’s sincere confession came as a surprise to you and unintentionally, it showed on your face.

“What, you don’t believe me?” Mark feigned hurt, putting a hand on his chest. “Do you think hockey guys can’t have feelings too? I have a fan club for heaven’s sake!”.

You laugh at his exaggerated outcry. 

“And that’s a bad thing? Don’t you guys like the attention? Attention from lots and lots of pretty girls”. You raised an eyebrow, teasing him.

“As if,” Mark ran a stressed hand through his hair, “they’re all crazy as hell. Honestly, none of the guys really like the attention”.

You nod in understanding. Seeing how the Lovelees acted the few times you were around them, you’d hate being the subject of their affections too.

“But how about you,” Mark continued, “I haven’t seen you much at parties”.

You let out a sarcastic laugh, “if you couldn’t tell from tonight, I’m not much of a party girl. Today was my first and probably last party”. You had gotten so comfortable walking and talking with Mark that you had almost forgotten about the horrible incident that occurred earlier. Pulling the soft jacket over yourself more, your face falls as you remember Sungchan’s intoxicated face.

“Hey” Mark’s hand grazes over your slumped shoulders, bringing you back to focus on him. “I’ll never let him bother you again”. 

While you were unsure of how your makeup was holding up due to all the crying, his delicate features were all the more beautiful under the pale moonlight. You notice how close you’re sitting, knees almost brushing against each other’s and his face was but inches from yours. And even though you were wearing his jacket so he was left with only a tee shirt, you were sure you weren’t imagining the heat radiating from his body. Slowly, your eyes flutter down to his parted lips.

There it is once more, the hot flush in your cheeks and the strain in your chest. 

Meeting Mark has been a rollercoaster of emotions, but you felt undeniably comfortable sitting next to someone who would’ve been a stranger just a few days ago. Something about him felt familiar to you now and you trusted in his words. He was someone... safe. 

“Really?,” you whisper, not taking your eyes off of his soft, pink lips. 

“Really”. His confirmation was too gentle to be heard above the sound of the rushing water below, but you read his lips as they shaped around the word.

Before you know it, you were leaning in, just enough so you knew you weren’t imagining it. A mellow breeze plays with your hair, causing a few strands to fall astray. Cautiously with his hand, Mark slowly tucks the fallen pieces back behind your ear. He hesitates there. The feeling of his warm fingertips sends tingles down your spine. Carefully scanning your expression to make sure you were okay, his hand inches down to gently cup your cheek. “Can I kiss you?”.

You could feel the warmth of his breath fan across your lips, his own not centimeters away. Your heart pounded rapidly as you gave an affirming nod. Closing your eyes, you wait.

This is happening.

A jolting vibration from your pocket caused your eyes to shoot right back open and Mark let go of you in surprise. Your phone kept buzzing, the harsh sound amplified by the wooden dock. Sighing in frustration, you struggle to remove it from your back pocket as Mark looks away, coughing awkwardly. Your face burned red from embarrassment.

Why does this always happen to me?

“Hello?”. Your tone was laced with annoyance.

“Y/n! Where aare youu?,” Yuna slurred. Trap music blared in the background confirming that she was still at the party. You could hear Ten asking if Mark was with you over the ruckus.

“I left. And yeah, Mark is here”. You put the phone on speaker and held it up towards the boy you were about to kiss moments ago. 

“Hey guys,” Mark said sheepishly. Yuna squealed in delight.

“That’s my boy!”. Ten’s booming voice took over the call.

“Stop it man,” Mark warned, increasingly agitated at the couple for ruining the moment.

“Okayy kids! Have fun, but not tooooo much fun”. Yuna giggled into the microphone. 

“I’m hanging up,” you said quickly before pushing the red button to end the call. Any longer and you weren’t sure you could resist throwing your phone (and perhaps yourself) into the lake. A brief moment of silence ensued, both parties unsure of what to do next. Was there anything you could do to save the moment after that? 

“I uh…,” you start.

“Yeah umm…,” Mark agreed. Silence ensued.

“Uhh…”. Your steady tone wavered as you started to giggle. The awkwardness dissipated because before you knew it, both of you were laughing wholeheartedly at the unfortunate situation. 

“Yuna tends to have great timing,” you explain.

“Mm. Ten does too,” Mark related, stroking his chin and nodding as if thinking deeply. 

“She said she wouldn’t leave me at the party but lo and behold”. You gesture to your surroundings, exasperated.

“That sucks,” Mark agreed, “you should have come found me. I was waiting for you, actually”.

“I was going to,” you picked at the zipper of his jacket, “but we had just gotten there when... you know”.

“Yeah. You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready. I don’t want to pressure you at all, but I’m always willing to listen”

“You’re,” you look for the right words, “you’re so amazing”. 

“Yeah?”

You keep your gaze in your lap, “Yeah. And you know, I wish we’d met earlier, Mark. Because it’s really nice talking to you and you’re a really great guy”. You check for his reaction.

“Yeah, I wish we met sooner too”. His expression was that of… adoration.

Being with Mark was so easy. Conversation came to you two easier than anything else in life did. And just like that, feet swinging in sync above the water, you talked for hours. He told you about his alien conspiracy theories and his aspirations to be a professional hockey player and then retire into sports medicine. You told him about your parents and how you missed them dearly because they worked way out of the city to support you and your dream. You did everything you could to be able to pay them back, even majoring in economics which was more profitable than environmental studies or professional skating. Mark listened thoughtfully and admitted that he related in a lot of ways with his parents being all the way in Canada. 

The night rushed by and the two of you talked until the golden peaks of sunrise painted the water from its usual blue. You had shifted so you were sitting facing each other on the dock. The early sunlight cast a warm glow over Mark’s face. He looked like a painting- a Monet. Or a Renoir.

“Um so, I guess it’s Sunday now”. Mark rested his chin into the crook of his elbow. You could hear the tired in his voice, but you mutually understood that neither of you wanted to leave.

“Do you have to go?”. You picked at a piece of fuzz on the sleeve of his sweatshirt which you were still wearing. The disappointment was evident in your question. Even though you had spent the whole night getting to know each other, it felt like you had just barely scratched the surface. There was still so much more you wanted to talk about. 

Checking his watch, Mark contemplated for a bit. 

“It’s 6:12 a.m. right now. I actually have to get somewhere by 6:30,” Mark explained.

“So early?”

“Yeah it’s… you could come with me if you want?”. His sleepy eyes twinge with hope.

You look to the lake, the sparkling ripples tinted gold with the rising sun. Sunday was usually a rest day for you and you didn’t have anything planned. As fatigued as you felt, everything in you wanted to accept his invitation. You cracked a small smile, getting up to stretch your legs. You hold out a hand to help him up.

“Lead the way”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you home? This might not be fun for you…”

Mark’s expression was worried as the two of you stood at the entrance of the local church, the doors open and you could see rows of tables and food set up as if ready for people at any minute. The streets were starting to bustle as the world began to wake up. A volunteer from inside the church spotted you, walking out to give his greetings. 

“Mark!,” the man called out as he pulled Mark  in for a warm hug, “good morning!”.

His eyes turned towards you and Mark moved to introduce you. 

“Daniel, this is y/n. Y/n, this is Daniel. We volunteer together here at the church to serve breakfast to the homeless,” Mark disclosed.

“Nice to meet you, Daniel”. You shake his hand with a smile. Gosh, I probably look like a mess right now. I didn’t even get to change or take off the makeup from the party yesterday. You self-consciously zip up Mark’s oversized jacket to hide your exposed midriff. 

“Nice to meet you, y/n! This is the first time Mark has brought a… friend here”. Daniel’s eyes darted between you and Mark with an assuming smile.

“Yeah,” Mark coughed, turning to you, “do you want me to take you home? This probably isn’t what you expected I don’t know why I-”

“No,” you interrupted, “I’d like to stay and volunteer”. Offering him a reassuring smile, you rest your hand on his arm to show him that you were okay. There was truth to his worries when Mark said this wasn’t what you were expecting. You never would have thought that a popular guy like him woke up early on the weekends to help the needy. Evidently, he did it out of the kindness of his own heart, not for attention. You always imagined it was all parties and messing around, but you were pleasantly proven wrong.

“Great! Mark can show you around and get you started,” the older man clapped before heading inside.

“You’re kind of awesome, you know that?”. Mark’s question caught you off guard. He slipped his hand into yours to lead you into the building, the simple action sending your heart into a frenzy. 

“Awesome how?”

“Just… awesome,” Mark clarified cryptically, holding the door open for you to enter the storage room. He tosses you a green volunteer shirt.

“Alright, I’ll take the compliment,” you laugh, taking off his jacket and handing it to him. To your surprise, he pushes it back to you.

“You keep it. I like it a lot better on you”

Mark Lee if you keep saying things like this, I’m going to catch on fire.

You fight to put out the flames spreading across your cheeks and give a single nod, setting the sweatshirt down on a nearby box. Not willing to strip in front of him in the church storage room, you pull the volunteer shirt over on top of the shirt you were already wearing.

“So anyways,” Mark continued as if he didn’t just say the most romantic thing you’ve heard in your life, “the people will start coming in about 20 minutes. Our job is to portion out the food and once everyone is served, we can go eat and talk with them”.

“Got it”

“Here, let me get this for you”. His hand guided your waist to spin around as he pulled an apron over your head. Tying the back of the garment together, your breath hitches in your throat as you feel his fingers brush under the fabric of your shirt. You turn your face to the side and you can see his soft expression in your peripheral vision. The heat from his body behind yours feels so welcoming.

I wish he’d kiss me right now.

And he wants to. He tries to. He’s leaning in and everything is perfect. Your heart is beating fast as you tilt your head back, but like clockwork, a jolting buzz from his pants makes you jump apart. No, not like that.

“I swear to God, I’m throwing away my phone”. Mark ran a frustrated hand through his hair, picking up the kiss-blocking call. “Hello?”. You sighed.

You watch as the annoyed expression on his face fades into shock as the speaker on the other side panicked through the phone. Your own frustration transforms into concern as Mark looks at you and you catch the words “car” and “hospital”. Mark paces back and forth.

“Alright, I got it. Yeah, she’s with me. I’ll tell her. We’ll come right now. Don’t worry, Ten, she’s going to be fine”

“What is it?,” you ask as soon as he hangs up the call, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and worry.

“It’s Yuna…,” Mark trailed off, shocked by the news. Your heart dropped down to your feet.

“What about Yuna?” Your voice shook with panic.

“She-she was in a car accident. She’s at the hospital right now”

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[andypantsx3]

hi there !! i hope you're doing well :) ever since i started reading ur fics i've just been really impressed with how u keep the quality of ur content very consistent. do u take breaks in between writing each fic? i think u mentioned this in a previous post when u talked about editing fics, but i guess i'm wondering how u keep urself from being burnt out/if u get burnt out! i'm going thru a slump rn so i'd be curious to hear about ur experience!

Omg thank you so much!! That is literally so sweet of you to say, much as I doubt the quality is all actually consistent—I'm looking at you, in cinders chapter two.🖕🖕🖕

Also please excuse how long this got, I have a lot of thoughts on this subject in particular!!

Personally yes, I do get burnt out, and I do find it very necessary to take breaks—from writing overall and from a fic if I'm having difficulties with it. In general, I try to write a little bit every day, but that’s not always possible, and there are times when that’s not the right thing to be doing.

If you were following me late last year, you may vaguely be aware that I disappeared for two months straight between December and February. Like, just let the queue run through and did not answer a single ask, post a single original thought, or even look at my ao3 comments. While I was gone I barely wrote a thing. I think at like 1.5 months into it, I started drafting the outline for subtle, but before that, I didn't do shit except focus on my personal life and hang out with my dog.

At that point I was just tired and I thought I could use a little recharging to get excited about writing again. I read a bunch of books and other people's fics, and reread a bunch of my old fave comfort ship fics. That break from my own work really helped me get inspired again. Since then I've been consciously trying to strike a balance between writing all the time and chilling/consuming the things that keep me inspired to write.

When it comes to taking a break from fics, I do that too. My Hawks fic lay low has been ongoing since December of last year, when I normally finish fics in under a month. I actually really love this fic, but I got a little frustrated with some plot holes and then again with the pressure I was putting on myself to characterize him (like, relax, Andie it's a fuckin fanfic) so that's been on hiatus like multiple times even though we're only three chapters in.

I think it was important, though, for me personally to take a step back from it until I had the energy to address the things that I wanted to, and until I was excited to write it again. I'm actually finally working on chapter 4 (!!!), but it really took a long time to let that bad boy marinate, and I hope the fic will be better for it.

And I did that with statistically significant as well. This was more due to my workload at my job at the time, and I worked on this one over the course of five months when prior to that, I had been finishing fics in 1-2 weeks. But slowing down and writing this fic over like ten times the amount of time it took me to write other fics was a really good learning experience for me. It taught me that it's totally fine to step away from a fic for multiple months, and that you can always come back and finish it later.

I think that's also going to be the case with the new Deku fic, and I'm happy I already know it's completely okay to take my time. I'm sure there will be new wrenches that life throws into my path, and I'll have to get hit by those and figure out how to get back up and learn to duck next time lol.

Anyway, I definitely get where you are coming from, and if I've learned anything in the year and a half I have been writing it’s that it's totally normal to hit slumps, be they long or short, fic-specific or related to writing overall. Burn-out/slumps are actually not a big deal at all if you don't psych yourself out about them.

I feel like every time I'm asked advice on anything I say this (but I mean it!!): listen to yourself. You know best what you need. If you don't feel like you have the brain power for writing right now?? You're definitely right, and you should take some time away to chill, just consume things without producing, or do other stuff in life that makes you feel good.

If you're two months into not writing and you get excited about a project outside of the one you abandoned?? There's probably a reason. Work on that instead, and maybe let your enthusiasm for that project remind you of what you liked about the other one you put down.

And if that enthusiasm doesn't return? Then let the damn thing sit until it does. There are literally writers I follow who stepped away from fics for YEARS, only to come back and post a new chapter like half a decade later. They are always, always better for it.

So literally just listen to what you are telling yourself, and ride out the slump however you need to. Please try your best not to feel guilty for it, or think that it is any reflection on you or your work. They're just a natural part of the process, and honestly you will be the better for having had this experience.

#ask andie

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

fic year in review post, because i looooove reading other people’s and because new year’s is my favorite holiday (and literally always has been even before i knew or cared about what being a capricorn meant which is how you know astrology is real...)!

first of all, i posted a truly deranged 376,298 words of fanfiction this year, which is... bananas even given that i y’know quit my job in the middle of a global pandemic and have had a lot of time on my hands. i historically don’t do great with unstructured time & i am in fact extremely grateful to this weird hobby and the weirdos i do it with for giving me something to focus my energies during several months of empty schedules and a lot of um emotional processing happening in the background & as at times unhingedly absorbing as it has been, as new year’s & capricorn season work their magic i actually find myself starting to feel very recharged re: the prospect of making moves to reenter real life, in a way that it’s hard to imagine having found my way to without the mental washing machine of throwing myself into.... This.

wild geese (56k, quentin/eliot)

not included in the word count above because i finished writing it at the very end of december 2019, but i’m listing it here because it’s the only magicians story that would be left out otherwise, and it’s my dumb list. this was my shooting-from-the-hip post-4x13 fix-it, started within two weeks of having made it through the series as it existed then and driven entirely by the concept of quentin coldwater finding a way to let the soft animal of his body love what it loves; also in no small part a big love letter to quentin & julia; & to some degree a way for me to process the emotions watching the magicians brought up (mostly actually not bad) about my own history of depression. it surprised me with how long it was, and the fact that i expected it initially to be simply about feelings but it developed a thematically relevant plot-like magic concept, which was a fun novelty for me! it feels very tame compared to everything i’ve written sense, which would have shocked me to hear at the time i finished it, but i’m still very fond of it, particularly towards the end.

burning holes in butterflies’ wings (7k, julia/alice)

a little bizarre niche nightmare story! a tag joke about griefbanging turned into something miserable and weird. the first sex scene i wrote because i got halfway into the story and realized that writing a story from the premise “julia grief-fucks her dead best friend’s deranged ex” and not letting the actual sex show for itself what a psychological and emotional nightmare that would be was just a waste. a very jumping into the deep end way to learn about writing that part of the human experience, lmao.

wreck my days with a violent hunger (30k, quentin/eliot)

i loved this story a lot when i posted it and i love it a lot now; there are stretches where the prose sounds like the prose i had been wanting to write for years and never quite managed, and it also gets at some trauma-stuff i circle back to a lot as well as i’ve ever hit it. i think it’s still my most technically accomplished piece, and it taught me a lot about how to think about writing. also was my first foray into exploring the potential of quentin’s post-resurrection anger, which i spent many hours pondering and dissecting and clarifying for myself for this fic where it gets articulated in one (1) scene and then found myself at this story’s conclusion.......... obsessed with.

damage control for a walking corpse (78k, quentin/eliot, quentin/a lot of people, quentin/being a fucking terror)

my beloved and cherished demon baby.... my most precious unholy nightmare.... i simply have never had as much fun doing anything as i had writing this story! i had a blast leaning into what made me uncomfortable, & letting myself write in detail about sex without the pressure of writing Hot Sex Scenes, & letting myself be propelled by what made me laugh; SO much of this story, including some of the shit that wound up really dark in execution, started from the question of what would be most hilarious to me, personally. i’ve always loved stories about fucked up people in a lot of pain doing ugly fucked up things but i’d never been bold enough to venture there myself, and then this particular conception of post-resurrection q slammed down the gas pedal and would not stop, careening past moment after moment where i was like, is he really gonna do that, and the answer was: yes, and then some. and for all the meanness of this story, i love many quentins but i think i kind of love this one most of all.

how a resurrection really feels (260k and counting, quentin/eliot)

well! as i have said many times, the goal with this & damage control has been, quite simply, to give quentin coldwater what he deserves, which is to (1) completely lose his fucking shit and (2) figure out how to be okay after that; it is not my fault that quentin coldwater is the craziest motherfucker in the history of the universe, and has needed so very many things along the way! i had to learn new ways of thinking about stories just to begin getting this down; writing it has been sometimes thrilling, sometimes boring, sometimes a pleasant stroll, sometimes pulling fucking teeth, but i’m proud of pretty much all of it, from the Big Things it gets at that i’ve been working on in my own brain for years to the goofy worldbuilding details which are a totally new thing for me to be playing around with. this is gonna sound weird and deranged but i legitimately feel like writing this story has changed me as a person, in ways that i’m currently discovering and wondering about; one small way is that when i think about the two chapters that are left i’m like, “okay, another 40k, that’s eminently doable,” which truly is insane to me considering that before this fandom i had never written anything longer than 34k. this entire project really is, and i cannot emphasize this enough, something i had no idea i was remotely capable of pulling off ever in my life until it was happening, so if you are one of the people who has mentioned to me that you are impressed because it feels like something you couldn’t do - you really don’t know that! keep reading! keep writing! keep giving yourself space to grow <3

next year: finishing a resurrection; bigbang fic; beyond that, who knows! i have a WIP list that contains 5 stories i’ve made some level of drafting or notes towards & another six concepts i have hazy outlines of in my head, but i went back a while ago to the WIP/wishlist post i made once and most of those stories have totally lost their appeal for me so, i’m letting the muse take me where it will. hopefully it takes me to some things that are like, short. that would be neat. other than getting the bigbang story done on time, i don’t think i’m going to be setting longterm goals beyond keep writing; my weird hobby has sparked a lot of joy this year, and i want to hold on to that.

#writing tag #abt yr blogger

[yungimmortals]

phone numbers | jaime (ft. risa)

date: december 26, 2020

summary: a long-overdue phone call, a heavy dose of salt in an old wound, and a very low battery

An unknown number flashed across his screen. Never one to pick up the phone unless he absolutely had to (and definitely not one to pick up when he didn’t recognize the caller), Jaime let it go to voicemail, tossing his phone onto his bed. 

Swiveling in his desk chair, he spin in a full circle before returning his focus to  the project he had been working on since getting back to his apartment earlier that evening. Christmas with Katie’s family had been fun; now it was time for Jaime to recharge. Restoring a vintage typewriter -- Jaime’s Christmas present to himself -- was the perfect thing to do. In the last hour, he had polished it, ridding the typewriter of years of rust and grime. All the type-levers were in place, all the knobs and buttons in working condition. Now it was time to work on the carriage lever and the platen, time to get the machine ready for writing. 

Dismantling his typewriter was a delicate process, interrupted again by the ringing of his phone. “Where is it?” He mumbled, turning is his chair and taking a dive at the bed when he spotted his phone. Snatching it up, he recognized the same number that had called earlier but was saved the trouble of a debate as to whether or not he should answer it when his screen went dark once more. A moment later, a voicemail notification flashed across his screen.

Curiosity piqued, Jaime unlocked his phone, raising it to his ear to listen to the voicemail. The last voice he expected to hear drifted out of the phone’s speakers and he dropped it in surprise. 

Jaime, it’s me. I need to talk to you. I hope this is still your number.

Without hesitation, he returned the call. There was one ring, then two, then three. Jaime bounced his leg up and down before spinning around in his desk chair, his stomach a pit of nerves. As the line continued to ring, he was almost positive he had imagined the voicemail. But then there was an audible click, followed by the sound of his sister’s voice.

“So this is your number. Rowan’s handwriting is absolute shit, I couldn’t tell if that last number was a seven or a four. Can’t believe she wants to go to art school with that chicken scratch.”

“Risa?”  

“You sound surprised.”

“Well, I, er. That is-”

His sister’s laughter sounded tinny, far away. “Jaime, relax. Oh, and Merry Christmas. Did you get our card?”

Jaime switched the call to speaker phone and placed his phone on his desk. He stared at it blankly before scrubbing his face with his hands. “Card?”

“Yeah, Ro made you a Christmas card in her risography workshop. She’s building her portfolio for college but I’m sure she told you that since you talk, like, all the time.” Risa sounded bitter as she spoke, changing the subject quickly. “Anyway, I need to talk to you about something. Is this a good time?”

In eight years, his middle sister had never once called of her own volition. Even convincing her to be a part of Jaime and Rowan’s ‘family phone calls’, had taken a few years of their littlest sister badgering her. Now Risa was calling and it sounded important and Jaime couldn’t think of a single thing to say. He must have been silent for too long, he realized, hearing his sister clear her throat.

“Jay, if you’re busy, just tell me. I’ll find another time,” she said, though from her tone, Jaime could tell that if they didn’t talk about what was on her mind now, they likely never would.

“No! I mean, no, I’m not busy. I was just-- yeah, no, I’m here. What-- what’s up?” Jaime pushed his typewriter to the side before rummaging through his desk drawer for a notebook and pen (just in case he needed to take notes). He chuckled as Risa told him to buckle up, already welcoming the familiarity with which she was speaking to him, no matter how strange it felt.

“This isn’t what I’m calling about but I might as well tell you while we’re here. Dad’s sick. He said you cursed him or some shit, but it’s all bull. He went off the deep end a few years ago. Totally cuckoo. I figured you didn’t know, since you and Ro have your stupid agreement to never mention Charles to each other. Says he’s seeing things. Monsters and shit. Which I would call bull, but I remember that creepy guy. You know, the one waiter at the Dog & Pony that would always stare at you and Mom when we all went for dinner? He only had one eye. I don’t mean like an eyepatch. I mean one freaking eye, right in the center of his head. Don’t know if you ever noticed that, but I did.” Now that Risa had started talking, it seemed she couldn’t stop. “And that’s not the last time I saw something or someone weird like that. There’s a girl who works at the nature center in the park and I swear, Jay. I freaking swear that she melts into the trees. She’s a dryad right? I got lunch with your aunt last week and she filled me in on some stuff. I don’t know how she got in touch with us. Said something about your dad, I don’t remember. But, anyway, we got lu-”

“My aunt?” Jaime interrupted, feeling guilty for doing so, but not seeing where he could get a word in edgewise if he waited for her to pause.

“Oh, shit. Wait, there’s a picture, did I mention a picture? Before I forget. It’s with your card. I was digging through some of Mom’s trail crew stuff in the attic a while back, looking for her old boots, and I found it. It says ‘David’ with a heart next to it on the back. That was his name, right? Your dad?”

Jaime blinked, surprised at both the abrupt subject change and the mention of his father. He didn’t want the subject of his aunt to drop but the photograph won his curiosity. “Yeah, that’s him.”

“Okay, so you’ll see it, but, like, it’s totally weird. There’s a lens flare on it but it’s, like, just across your dad. Kinda ruins the whole picture, you can’t see him at all. It’s like when you try to take a photo of the sun. Mom looks beautiful though, but she always did. I think they were at Otter Cove, and I know that was one of your favorite trails.”

Like trying to photograph the sun. Jaime almost laughed. Risa had no idea how close to the truth she was. Which reminded him, “You had lunch with my aunt?”

“Dude, yeah. And she’s, like, so cool. If you’re related to so many cool people -- myself and Ro included, obviously -- how did you turn out like this?” 

He could hear Risa laugh on the other line and just rolled his eyes. He glanced down at his notebook where he’d written a collection of words: cursed, Cyclops, dryads in Acadia? The latter was underlined several times, whether from surprise or excitement, Jaime couldn’t remember. He realized his sister had started speaking again. “I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” 

“I was saying, if you were paying attention, that we went to Geddy’s -- that veg place on Main? -- for lunch and she was telling me about some fancy neo-classical city? New Athens or some shit like that, I think. In New York. Is that where you live? Ro told me you were like, weirdly into Greek mythology one time. But honestly, that tracks with some of the stuff I’ve seen. Hey, how come your aunt was looking for me, not you? She said something about mist but it was. like, not even a foggy day. We could see out over the harbor. Crystal clear.”

“The Mist,” Jaime correctly automatically, then pinched the bridge of his nose. The list in his notebook grew longer as their call stretched on. “I don’t know,” he admitted, in response to Risa’s question about his aunt. “Did she tell you her name?”

“Artemis? Which I was like hello, weird, since I was literally just thinking about you and your Greek mythology phase. I asked if she was David’s sister and she said ‘if that’s what he’s calling himself now’. Do estranged siblings run in your side of the family or something?”

At that, Jaime made a choking sound, staring at his phone. The resulting crow of laughter from his sister made it clear that she’d been expecting, no, hoping for that reaction. 

“Just messing with you, Jay. Relax. Anyway. She’s got this, like, wild grrl gang of hikers that travel the country? Gave me a pamphlet, told me to consider it. She said I could tell Rowan too, but when I did, Ro didn’t seem to care at all. She’s just got art school on the brain, I think. Your aunt had told me that would happen, said that the Mist was thicker around our sweet baby sister. But, uh, do you know what the Mist is? I’m, like, pretty sure you do since you corrected me a minute ago.”

“I-”

“Yeah that’s what I thought. So anyway, Aunt Artemis said you’re a demigod. Guess your dad’s name isn’t really David, huh? Last I checked, there’s no Greek god of boring dad names. Care to fill me in? Is that why I’ve seen some weird, like, mythological creatures around the harbor when we were growing up? Oh and Grandma Hana says hi.”

A distressed sound escaped Jaime’s lips. He had forgotten his sister’s habit of bouncing from subject to subject and here it was, smacking him in the face with more new information than he could handle at the moment. Christmas wishes had been exchanged with his grandmother the day before, so he didn’t have to worry about acknowledging that topic, thankfully. His brain was working in overdrive and he could practically feel Risa’s impatience, the longer he was silent.

“Jaime,” she prompted. 

He sighed, massaging his temples as he stared down at his phone. “His name isn’t David, it’s Apollo. Artemis’ brother. They aren’t named after the Greek gods, they are the Greek gods. So yes, that makes me a demigod. And it sounds like...you can probably see through the Mist. At least a little more than most mortals.”

“Holy shit. And you never thought ‘hey maybe I should tell my sister this super freaking weird but also totally cool thing about me’? What the shit, Jaime!”

He opened his mouth to tell her that he hadn’t known until after he left, until after he read the letter their mother had left for him, but Risa was steamrolling ahead.

“Wait...wait, so that was the Artemis? Your aunt is the Artemis? And she- and she invited me to join her immortal Hunt?” He heard a muffled shriek, like she had covered the receiver with her hand. A small smile spread across his face. “Well, I’m saying yes...obviously.”

“Okay, hold on a second there. That’s a big decision, don’t you think you shou-”

“Oh no, no. I’m going to stop you right there. You don’t get to play the big brother card here, Jay. You don’t get to keep secrets for years and then tell me I need to think about accepting an offer from a goddess. And don’t say some shit about me looking after Rowan. She doesn’t need anyone to look after her. You’d know that if you were here. Honestly, she does a better job looking after me than I do her. Shit, wait. Does that mean Dad’s not crazy? Did you really make all those people sick all the time? Did you...make Mom sick? Isn’t Apollo the god of healing?”

“I wasn’t playing the big brother card!” He protested weakly. As she continued, Jaime blanched. Several times. First at the mention of his absence, then at the mention of Charles’ theories, and again at the mention of their mother. “I’m sorry,” he started, hoping Risa understood that he was apologizing for leaving. They would have more time to unpack that later, he figured. 

"Charles is definitely still crazy. I didn’t make all those people sick. Mom either. I, uh, I only did it once. Made someone sick, I mean. It was a boy that bullied me at school during the years Mom was sick and Charles wouldn’t listen to me about it. One day the kid was beating me up and hitting me and, and I, I don’t know what happened. I pushed him and pushed? I don’t know, energy? At him, and I gave him the chicken pox or something, at least I think that’s what the school said. Chicken pox,” he scoffed, ducking his head, despite the fact that Risa couldn’t see him. “He’s the god of many things. Music, the arts, the sun. Healing, yeah, but plague and illness is the flip side of that.”

“Like the plague arrows he shot at the Greeks. Before you say anything, yes, I’ve read the Iliad. And The Song of Achilles, which, if you haven’t read it, you have to.” As if realized she’d gotten off track, Risa was quiet for a moment. Jaime was thankful she didn’t push him on the subject of his powers; he wasn’t sure what he would have said if she had. When his sister spoke again, she sounded farther away, her voice detached. “Artemis told me there are other children of Apollo. You have other family.”

It wasn’t a question, it was an accusation -- that was clear. When Jaime answered, he sounded tired. “I do, yeah.” Though his sister couldn’t see it, his expression was one of regret. “But it’s, it’s not like that, Ris.”

“I didn’t ask what it was like,” she snapped. After a moment of tense silence, he could hear her sigh. “I’m going to contact Artemis. Learn as much about your world as she’ll tell me. And then I’m going to join the Hunt.”

With a click, the line went dead. 

Jaime stared at his phone in silence until the screen darkened, battery dead as well. He heaved a sigh, detangling himself from his desk chair to plug his phone into the cord on his nightstand to charge. So much for recharging, he thought to himself, knowing his own battery was dangerously low. Exhaling a groan, Jaime sunk onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling once more. To the constellations on his ceiling, he murmured, “That went about as well as it could have, all thing considered.”

#m: jaime #npc: risa #self para

[doctor-clair-pine]

//You don’t have to bother reading below, it’s a minor rant on life and my absence. 

Right. So. Hi. I think we can all agree 2020 is a messed up year. 

We all have our lives and issues outside of this platform and honestly, I was feeling (and still am) overwhelmed about all of the things going on; work, family, my new apartment that’s supposed to be ready hopefully by December and the cherry on top, the freaking pandemic. 

Writing for me has always been an outlet, especially when times were bad and I needed to dive into my own realm. Unfortunately, this last year has taken all of my energy and muse and my brain was so tired and busy all the time I couldn’t find peace in writing. I barely found joy and it was getting stressful more than enjoyable.

And you know what? I made the right choice by taking my time, It’s fine. Sometimes a break from even the things you enjoy helps your body, mind, and soul recharge and recover. I will never be mad at anyone around here who needs time for themselves and stepping back. 

This is probably the first official time I am coming back to the same blog after being so iffy and off. I’m not saying I’m here now 120%, but for the time being, I do intend to revive Clair. She’s my fav’ muse and I have enjoyed the threads here with y’all immensely.

What I’m trying to say is I missed you and I missed writing with you.

So let's all pretend Clair was stuck somewhere helping out and couldn’t come home until now. 

Deal?

P.S

The cats are fine and not letting me sleep so nothing new on their front.

Eva.

#ooc #//ramble

[imaginesmai]

Ubbe-25th of December (2)

Plot: while you wait for him, Ubbe is having troubles to fulfill his promise

First part can be found here

Thanks again to @worldisadirtyplace for the moodboard! 

The wall behind Ubbe’s back trembled again, and he was nearly pushed forwards. He had to stop the fall with the hand that wasn’t holding the gun, his head throbbing again from the impact. It had been the third grenade that the rebels, or whoever was trying to kill them from the other side of the city, threw their way. From the ceiling, small pieces of stone and dust fell and covered the people who was hiding in that place.

A small cry sounded somewhere near him, the little girl who had been playing with a ball not so long ago then hidden between her mother’s arms. She had been holding her two parents arms in the beginning, but her father was lying in a pool of his blood a few meters away.  

Ubbe felt a huge pang of guilt and pain on his chest, different from the one on his leg were he had been shot two days before. Those people were innocent, farmers and merchants who earned their money by the legal way, that had decided to help four helpless and hurt soldiers that had been wandering around their city.

“We’re fucked, man” Dave complained, almost on the verge of tears. “Fuck, Ubbe, there’s no way out.”

The young man was hiding under a desk. When the real danger appeared, he had been the first one to disappear; among the children and the elders, he had tried to leave the city. Sadly that plan hadn’t been successful and they were all trapped together.

“Do you smell that?” Heahmund, an older soldier, growled. “That’s fucking disgusting, boy. Did you piss on your pants already? That’s what you’re taught in the military nowadays?”

Ubbe didn’t like Heahmund, but he knew he was right. For a nearly forty-five years old man, he still worked like a bull; strong, aggressive and smart. His missing leg wasn’t an impediment, he showed it when Ubbe and Dave found him a weak ago in the middle of nowhere. He had a strong bond with his God, and killed everyone in his name. The woman who he had come with, a short brunette called Astrid, told them that he had seen what no one else had.

It wasn’t enough reason to scare or mock Dave.

“Leave him alone, H” Astrid beat Ubbe, rolling her blue eyes. She counted two seconds and peeked through the window, shooting three times. “Not everyone is as grumpy as you.”

“What have you seen?” Ubbe asked and stopped Heahmund complains. “They’re still there?”

“Will be for a while” she scoffed. “There are two armoured vans, and maybe ten shooters.”

No one said anything after that, not even Dave who probably had already peed all over himself. The villagers looked between the soldiers and tried to get a solution; it was hard to do so, because from the moment those trucks appeared breaking the dawn their destiny was already decided.

“We could try to run” Dave talked again. “If we’re quiet enough-“

“If you say one more word, boy, you’re gonna suck my balls” Heahmund spoke through gritted teeth.

Another bullet hit the wall where Ubbe was hiding, making it more and more instable. It was a matter of time before one of them broke that thing, and if he didn’t find a solution soon, those bullets would be hitting his chest instead of the wall. Whether it was running away or facing them, he didn’t care. Ubbe just wanted to see your face again.

The small village where they were trapped gave him some ironic peace; an open field that had been at some point a cute small hamlet, but that because of the war had been neglected. It could had been the perfect getaway for a weekend, if it was not infested with guns and dead bodies. He tried to copy Astrid’s move and see what was the situation.

“There must be a way out” Ubbe mumbled, moving back to his original position in a second and avoiding a bullet penetrating his brain.

“What have you seen?” Heahmund asked that time, recharging his assault rifle.

“Ten men, or more, as she has said. Not sure” he explained as he put another cartridge in his rifle. “They’re hiding behind the armoured, and I don’t think they’re running low any time soon. Beside the thousands of caps on the floor, there are lots of them full of bullets.”

“It’s not an unplanned attack” Heahmund said. “Those fuckers knew where were we.”

Ubbe looked down to their bullet’s backup, which was only two more cartridge and a small hunting knife. He sighed and cracked his neck. There had to be a way to come out alive, he had been through worse. Your face and smile appeared in his eyes when he closed them, and he was almost tempted to give himself away to the dream. That way, he would feel again your arms, your warmth and your love. More than a year without it was driving him insane, a pain worse than any other wound.

“Maybe if we go out-“

“If they wanted to give us a chance, they would have done it at the beginning” Astrid stopped to fire again, only three shots before she had to take cover again. “They’re not going to stop until this shit comes down. And then, they’re going to shoot us until we’re nothing more than holes and blood.”

“Positive speech is not one of you qualities, right?” Dave scoffed.

She turned quickly and tried to shoot again; yet was received with a dry sound. Her rifle was out, just like the two guns that laid on the floor without any bullet.

There were a few seconds of relative silence. Relative because it was impossible to hear your own breathing between the guns, but for them the world stopped around the two left cartridges. Ubbe would never know what Dave thought in that moment, if Heahmund gave up or the rush of emotions in the villagers’ hearts. Because he was far away.

The green and black jacket that he had been wearing in the car felt then like the most uncomfortable thing in the world. Its shoulders were too tight, he couldn’t open his arms correctly and Ubbe felt as if his armpits were going to explode. Probably the fight he had had with his brothers in the car didn’t help his current situation, or the quick adventure he had decided to have with you in the bathroom exactly fifteen minutes ago.

Truth was the suit was making him claustrophobic, and that he couldn’t wait to get into the airplane and get the damned jacket out.

“I can’t believe we did that” Ubbe turned to look at you. “You’re such a bad influence, Lothbrok!”

If there was a reason why he was still in the boarding gate and not inside the comfy plane, it was you. You appeared behind him, trying to tame your wild hair into a ponytail while straightening your clothes. Not that anyone would have noticed, since it was an airport and Ubbe was sure worse thing had happened in that bathroom.

“Should have thought about it before, doll” he laughed loudly and helped you to finish your ponytail. “I don’t remember your doubts when I suggested it.”

“That’s your fault too” you smiled. “I can’t say no to you when you’re wearing that uniform. I mean, if I could I would tie you and keep you forever”

“I’m not against the tying part, just saying” Ubbe pecked your lips. “But I’m already running late, and I don’t want to hear the boys mocking me for the rest of the flight.”

“Oh, they wouldn’t dare” you teased. “Aren’t you the first sergeant?”

You could have sworn that, each time you said it, Ubbe’s chest puffed out and his eyes got brighter. The last time he came home to you he appeared with the new clothes and the biggest smile you had ever seen. Since that moment and for the following three months he had been with you, Ubbe hadn’t stopped telling you about his new position.

“Yeah, I can’t wait to boss them around” Ubbe smirked. “They-“

“You’re not going to be too hard on them, right? You can’t even tell Ivar’s cat to stay out of our sofa.”

“Puppies and kittens are on a different league. I can’t say no to anything he wants. If he wanted my bed, I would give it to him.”

“I might take that offer and marry him instead. I think the cat will be less hairy that you” you laughed, remembering the bathroom every time Ubbe had a shower. “And here I thought that the army didn’t allow long hair.”

“As a sergeant, I’m-“

“Flight 239, destiny Iran. Take-off in five minutes.”

The mechanic voice that you hated so much interrupted you. Some of the soldiers that were around you walked towards the gate; still, others hugged their loved ones and stayed a little longer.

Ubbe had joined the army in his 20th, and you had learned to enjoy every second life gave you with him. He could be gone for a month and stay home for two, or be gone for three and stay home one week. Beside all of that, you had built a strong relationship that not even the biggest distance could tear apart. It didn’t mean it was any easier to let him go.

You stepped closer and put your arms around his middle, fisting his jacket. The fabric felt weird and you were sticking every stupid pin and button on his front. As usual, the tears filled your eyes before he had even left.

He hugged you back and placed his head on your shoulder. Around you the world seemed to vanish, and you enjoyed the last seconds you would have together until only God knew when.

“I should get going” he whispered, yet he didn’t move. “And you too. Hvitserk is along with Ivar and Sigurd in the car, that’s dangerous.”

“Yeah” you mumbled. Looking up, you met his eyes and blinked to keep the tears away for a while. “Promise me you’ll be careful. You’re now a sergeant, you don’t need to be in the middle of every fight.”

“You know I can’t promise that” he sighed. “We’ve talked about this. If I want to be respected, I have to be there. I-“

“What you have to do is to come home safe, right?” you said. “You’ve never been in Iran, it’s a dangerous place.”

“I promise I’ll take care” he smiled softly. “And I’ll be back the 25th of December. As long as you promise to skip the vegetables in the come-back-home dinner.”

“I have to keep you healthy! One day you’re going to come home with a beer belly and a huge jowl. You all eat like pigs.”

“Thank god I have you then” Ubbe laughed.

He pressed his lips against yours one last time, moving them slowly and trying to print your kisses in the back of his mind. For those cold nights where the only hope he would have was the memory of you, and the promise of coming back.

The kiss lasted a few seconds more, and you were reluctant of tearing apart.

“Flight 239, destiny Iran. Last call to all the passengers. Take-off in two minutes.”

“I promise you will have the best dinner waiting for you” you smiled sadly. “And this time Hvitserk won’t eat it before you arrive.”

Ubbe laughed, remembering the time where Hvitserk ate all the food behind your back and you almost had a heart attack when you found out. You two ended up ordering pizza and watching a film, cuddling in the couch and enjoying each other company.

“Whatever it is, I only want to see you again” he said. “I already miss you.”

“Don’t say that” you voice shook, the sobs you were hiding fighting for going out. “I love you to the moon and back, Ubbe”

“And I love you to the stars and back, doll” he pecked your lips one last time and gave you a strong hug before tearing apart completely. He was the last soldier in the boarding gate, so he ran behind Alfred who had been with his grandfather. “Do not let my brother’s kill each other, Y/N! I’ll be back before you know it!”

Ubbe felt the tears pricking at his. It seemed that ages had passed since he saw you for the last time. And as always, you had been right.

Iran had been not only dangerous, but lethal. The rebels had almost all the county controlled, it was full of deadly traps where a lot of his mates had died. In the first four months, almost half of his troop was dead, and by the half of the year he had a feeling deep in his chest that things were not going any better.

He had lied in the letters, because worrying you with facts was pointless. When the people who were above him in range cut the communication and left them to die, he lied. When the food disappeared and the water was short, he just told you that he hated soup he was receiving. When his camp was destroyed and he was saved just because he was out looking for food, he lied. And when the opportunity of talking to you was almost invisible, he decided to let you know something.

That things were hard, that he was coming back home and that he was looking for a way back. Because he didn’t bear the thought of giving you more pain than necessary. The only certain truth was that he was coming back home. He was sure of it when he had to travel two days without supplies through the dessert. He was sure of it when he was shot in the leg and had to be dragged to the nearest village, which turned out to be a trap. And he was sure of it despite the pain of his wound, that was probably infected and oozing blood.

Ubbe was going to do it because he loved you, and because he made you a promise of coming back the 25th of December. Between the shouts of Dave, the constant shakes of Heahmund and the numbing pain, he blacked out.

Want to know more about me? Here is my Masterlist! Feedback is always appreciated!!

#ubbe #ubbe imagine #ubbe x reader #ubbe ragnarson #Ubbe Lothbrok #ubbe one shot #military!ubbe #military au #imaginemai #vikings #vikings imagine #vikings x reader #vikings one shot #vikings au #25th of december

[snazzysterek]

You Don’t have to go through Storms alone

Soooooo this was for a giveaway I did in December. I am a terrible human being and I am sorry. I just had no inspiration and I am just the worst. I am so sorry about this. @moretomhardy you deserve more than me.

If you at all want to help me keep a roof over my head so I can continue to kind of write please consider giving to my ko-fi

anyway here is the fic

Stiles opened the motel door, flicking on the lights. The light flickered to life as if they were forcing themselves to stay on.  He looked around in the cramped space, the dingy motel not his ideal place to spend the night. As he scanned the room his eyes landed on the singular queen size bed squished into the corner of the room. This was not going to be good. Stiles turned back to see Derek stomping towards him from the car. Derek looked way to tense from the long drive, his shoulders were almost drawn up to his neck. He needed the break, needed the time to recuperate, relax a little. Stiles had barely convinced him to stop for the night but Derek had been basically falling asleep at the wheel. And it wasn’t like Derek was going to let Stiles drive his car, so they are stopping.

Stiles cringed at the reaction he knew would be coming from Derek. Derek was not going to be happy with the one-bed situation. Stiles wasn’t that happy either but he honestly didn’t mind sharing beds with people. He actively preferred it. The only reason he wasn’t happy about this was that he knew Derek would like it. It sucked because Stiles had the biggest crush on the older man and sharing a bed with him, even just to sleep, was a dream come true. Because see the thing is, in his sleep was the only time he was allowed to touch others without them flinching. Not that he ever remembered what happened through his sleep but he always felt more settled. His spark made him so much more susceptible to touch starvation which was a weird realization that had happened. Not that he shared that with the pack. that would have been extremely awkward. They all made sure to keep their distance, made sure Stiles knew he wasn’t allowed to touch. And Stiles didn’t fight it he did not want to jeopardize his place in the pack.

Derek appeared next to Stiles in the doorway causing the younger man to jump.

“There’s only one bed,” Derek stated as if he was trying to will another bed into existence.

“I know, sorry it kinda sucks, I know- yeah uh sorry-” Stiles stuttered out.

Stiles through his duffle bag into the corner not meeting Derek in the eyes. He didn’t know if he was going to survive this. Honestly, Derek might kill him and while with the rest of the pack he can use ‘I was asleep’ as an excuse to touch with Derek that would just not fly. He was the Alpha and while he accepted the casual touches from his beta’s to everyone else he was a ‘DO NOT TOUCH Zone. Stiles knew that even if he was ‘pack’. It didn’t mean he deserved the touches the others got. Which sucked but still Stiles accepted it.

“So um I can take the floor if you want?” Stiles shuffled awkwardly near the bed.

“Stiles we can share a bed. The floor will probably kill you.” Derek drawled out as if Stiles was being stupid. Rolling his eyes as he threw his own duffle bag onto the bed.

Stiles was kind of shocked by that. Sure he knew Derek and his’s relationship has steadily improved over the years. They were friends, pack but that didn’t mean Stiles expected the other man to be okay with them sharing a bed. It was strange but Stiles didn’t want to question it. He just jerkily nodded, pointing towards the door stating he was going to shower. Before fleeing from the main room into the safety of the bathroom.

The shower was absolutely needed and amazing. After 10 hours cramped in the car with minimal breaks, Stiles was ready for a decent night's sleep. He needed to decompress and just recharge a little bit.

Stiles exited the bathroom to see Derek pulling on a t-shirt. Stiles averted his eyes to the ground, moving towards the bed. A blush creeping up on his cheeks. Now would not be a good time for Stiles to be aroused. He could not get into bed with Derek and be aroused at the same time. His brain did not need to go down the path of what Derek looked like shirtless and all the scenarios of why he would be shirtless.

“So how you wanna do this?” Stiles clapped his hands together, “Which side of the bed do you want?”

“You take the side by the wall,” Derek told Stiles.

Stiles nodded, exhausted, he crawled over the bed getting under the covers. He really needed sleep. Not even fighting Derek about the how obviously alpha he was being by taking the spot closest to the door, which would put him closer to incoming threats. He rolled onto his side facing Derek who flicked off the lights before crawling in right next to Stiles. They were plunged into darkness and when Stiles eyes finely adjusted to the dark he was met with Derek lying stiffly on the bed next to him.

“Hey, Derek?”

“Yeah Stiles.”

“You can relax you know.”

Stiles laughed softly when Derek seemed to tense up even more.

They laid in silence for a few more minutes, Derek slowly relaxing next to him. Stiles' eyes started to droop, sleep overtaking him. His breath evening out.

Stiles startled awake when a loud bang resounded. He surged upright on the bed, breath ragged as flashes of light illuminated the room briefly shocking bursts. His breathing coming out harsh from being suddenly jolted awake. Panic at the edge of his vision.

“Stiles it’s just a thunderstorm.” Derek touched his shoulder.

“O-oh right, just a thunderstorm.” Stiles breathed trying to get him to calm down, “Just a stupid thunderstorm.”

See the thing that the pack didn’t really know was that Stiles was terrified of thunderstorms and why wouldn’t he be. Nothing good ever happened during a thunderstorm. His mother had died during a thunderstorm and he was all alone when that happened. His father focused on a car pile up. He almost lost his dad to a thunderstorm, sure it was caused by the darach but a thunderstorm all the same.

Thunderstorms were bad and now he was with Derek while one of his greatest fears was raging on outside the window.

Stiles breathing got faster, he was well on his way to a panic attack. This was the worst possible situation.

“Stiles what wrong,” Derek's concern evident in his voice.

“I-um” Stiles curled in on himself looking down at his hands, his breath coming out in sharp puffs, He shrugged.

“I don't like thunderstorms” He rushed out.

Stiles flinched at every flash of lightning and roll of thunder. He didn’t want to be here.

Everything became muffled when Derek slid headphones over his ears. Music blaring, it was probably hell on Derek’s wolf ears but Stiles could no longer hear the storm. Could still see it raging outside the window. Flinching at every flash of lightning. The weight of a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, Derek pulling it tightly around him. He grabbed Stiles face forcing him to look Derek in his eyes. Derek’s phones screen appeared in front of Stiles' face. Blinking away the tears from his vision he read Do you want me to hold you, give you something to focus on.

Stiles jerkily nodded and between one blink and the next he was completely enveloped in Derek’s arms. Stiles face was tucked into the crook of Derek's neck, curled up on his lap. His breathing was wet and heavy against Derek’s neck sobs escaping his throat, even through his efforts to quiet them.

After what felt like hours Stiles' eyes drooped, his tears subsided and fell asleep clutching onto Derek's shirt like a lifeline.

Stiles woke up enveloped in heat. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes he was met with a chest. He was curled into Derek. His head under his chin, Derek’s arms enveloping him completely. Stiles could barely tell where he ended and Derek began which was ironic because Stiles was still completely rolled up in the blanket. The headphones had fallen away sometime during the night but it had to have been after the storm ended otherwise he would have woken up. Stiles felt completely safe in Derek’s arms and last night was by far the easiest thunderstorm he had ever gone through. He just wanted to lay there and bask in the safety that Derek emitted.

“We should get moving,” Derek spoke into Stiles' hair.

Stiles flinched not expecting Derek to be awake. He tried to wriggle out of Derek’s grasp, give the other man the chance to discontinue the contact. Derek’s arms just tightened briefly before letting Stiles go. Almost as if he didn’t want to. Stiles sat up looking over at Derek who still had bed head and was completely adorable.

“Sorry about last night,” Stiles mumbled

He looked down at his lap, shoulders hunched in on himself. He wasn’t proud of last night. He didn’t like anyone knowing about is fear of thunderstorms. It was such a stupid fear. Stiles had faced off actual monsters but a little thunderstorm put him out of commission. He twisted his fingers painfully on his lap. Angry at himself.

Derek’s hands landed on top of his, pulling his fingers apart from each other.

“Hey, it’s nothing to be ashamed of we all have our fears,” Derek spoke softly.

“Yeah but mine is stupid.”

“I'm scared of ladybugs.”

“What!?” Stiles looked up at Derek in shock.

“I’m scared of ladybugs. We all have that weird fear, you don't have to be scared of yours, Stiles.”

All Stiles felt like he could do was a shrug. Derek’s strange fear didn’t change his shame about his fear of thunderstorms but it did make him feel better.

“Yeah but you must still think I’m so stupid for reacting like I did to a stupid storm.”

“I really don’t. I would never judge you on something your scared of. Fear is irrational, it isn’t something we can control.”

Derek looked so genuine to Stiles. His eyes speaking way more than even his words were. He was so open, everything written on his face. It was the most vulnerable Stiles had ever seen Derek.

“Yeah, I guess. Thanks for helping.”

“Can I ask you a question, Stiles? You don't have to answer.”

“Yeah totally.”

“Are they usually that bad?”

Stile swallowed looking back down at his lap. He shifted uncomfortably, his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth. He didn’t want to tell Derek that they were usually worse but Stiles also trusted Derek. Trusted his wholeheartedly. After everything, Derek had just said he knew the other man wouldn’t judge him but Stiles also liked Derek. He didn’t want to expose just how weak he was when it came to storms. He also though felt like Derek had a right to know. Even if it was somewhat tense between them Derek was pack, he was family and while sure the rest of the pack didn’t know about his fear and Stiles wouldn’t tell them, Derek was different. Derek had always been different.

“They’re usually worse.”

“Stiles can you look at me.”

Stiles looked up. Derek was looking at him so intensely, Derek grabbed onto Stiles' hands holding them gently. His gaze never wavering from Stiles.

“Did I help?” Derek asked, his entire face looked as though whatever answer Stiles gave would change everything.

The air felt charged between them. Like this was a tipping point into some unknown. Stiles leaned closer to Derek, closing some of the already small distance between them. Derek moved closer to Stiles as well. Only an inch of air between them.

“Yes,” Stiles whispered as he closed his eyes.

Their lips touched in a dry kiss. Both of them reluctant to push forward in case that would ruin everything. After a few second they parted. Stiles forced his eyes to blink open where they had fallen shut. Derek was staring at him, a look that was akin to awe on his face. Neither of them really wanted to break the silence both knowing that something had changed between them. That in reality, everything had changed.

“What does this mean for us now,” Stiles spoke softly, trying not to pop the bubble they had found themselves in.

“It means you won't ever have to spend a thunderstorm alone again.

#sterek #hurt/comfort #thunderstorms #fear #alpha derek #giveway #request #my fic #my writing #snazzysterek writes

[actuallyadhd]

Hi! So I'm 15 and in school. What I really struggle with is that I'll sit down to do work (essays are where I have this problem a lot) and I'll be there for 4 hours and only get a tiny bit done. I turn my phone off and don't open any other tabs...I even set timers but I never reach my goals. It's incredibly frustrating because idk where my time goes and everything just drifts and I don't know what I'm doing to lose so much time. Is this a result of my ADHD? How can I stop this? thanks! :)

Sent October 18, 2018

It could be due to your ADHD.

I’m wondering if your goals are too large or something, so you’re basically shutting down when you sit down to work.

This might sound ridiculous, but stick with me and give it a try; it might help.

Okay, I’m going to make up a fictional homework roster and take you through the process I’m thinking of. Then I’ll summarize it into the steps to follow.

Cut for length.

In this imaginary semester, I’m taking Band, French, Math, English, Social Studies, and Art. Here is my list of assignments:

Band: practice all pieces

French: write a report on another country, all in French; practice vocabulaire

Math: Unit 3 review problems

English: read next short story; work on research paper.

Social Studies: read Chapter 4

Art: who are we kidding, I never had homework for art class

So four subjects and seven assignments. Let’s break it down further.

Band: we’re playing five pieces and I have solos in two

French: the report is due at the end of November; vocabulaire is a weekly thing and we’ll be tested on Friday

Math: there are 100 review problems at the end of the unit and our unit test is on Friday

English: we’ll be discussing the story in class tomorrow; the research paper is due right before Christmas and has to be 10 pages long

Social Studies: the chapter is 30 pages long (5 sections) and there are 5 sets of comprehension questions and 15 review questions to do, plus a bunch of glossary words to copy out, and we’ll be discussing one section of the chapter each day in class for the next week

Break down the larger tasks even more:

French report

choose country

research country, focusing on culture

organize research notes into categories (e.g., clothing, food, music, entertainment)

write clothing section

write food section

write music section

write entertainment section

write introduction; include demographics and economic information

write conclusion

check over grammar etc.

make sure bibliography is done properly

English research paper

choose topic

research topic

organize research notes

make outline

write body of report, following outline

write introduction

write conclusion

check grammar etc.

make sure citations and bibliography are done properly

Now assign due dates to each mini-task and divide up the other assignments over the coming week (pretending today is Monday), so the list is going to look more like this:

Band: practice all pieces, spend extra time on solos – daily

French report: choose country – todayresearch country, focusing on culture – daily until November 11organize research notes into categories (e.g., clothing, food, music, entertainment) – November 12write clothing section – November 13 & 14write food section – November 15 & 16write music section – November 17 & 18write entertainment section – November 19 & 20write introduction; include demographics and economic information – November 21 & 22write conclusion – November 23 & 24check over grammar etc. – November 25–27make sure bibliography is done properly – November 28

French vocabulaire: make flash cards – todaypractice – daily

Math: complete 25 questions per day

English reading: read short story – todaywrite out thoughts and impressions – today

English research paper: choose topic – todayresearch topic – daily until November 15organize research notes – November 16make outline – November 17 & 18write body of report, following outline – November 19–December 12 (break down into sections when outline complete)write introduction – December 13 & 14write conclusion – December 15 & 16check grammar etc. – December 17–19make sure citations and bibliography are done properly – December 20

Social Studies: read one section per daycopy out glossary words and definitions while readinganswer comprehension questions for each section on that dayanswer review questions after the entire chapter is finished in class

It looks like a lot, but let’s distill it to just what needs to be done today and estimate how long each task will take:

Band: practice all pieces, spend extra time on solos (30-60 minutes)

French report: choose country (15 minutes)

French vocabulaire: make flash cards (30 minutes)practice (30 minutes)

Math: complete 20 questions (30 minutes)

English reading: read short story (10 minutes)write out thoughts and impressions (20 minutes)

English research paper: choose topic (15 minutes)

Social Studies: read section & copy glossary words and definitions (20 minutes)answer comprehension questions (20 minutes)

Wow, that’s still a pretty heavy workload: just over 3 hours plus practice time! Of course, some tasks won’t take as long as I’ve put, and others will take more time. The total is probably close to right, though it doesn’t include breaks.

Because yeah, we’re going to take breaks.

Now, I don’t know about you, but I don’t really do great with focusing on one subject for a really long time unless I’m really into it. So I’m actually going to reorganize this list to make it work better for how my brain works.

French report: choose country (15 minutes)

English research paper: choose topic (15 minutes)

Math: complete 10 questions (15 minutes)

French vocabulaire: make flash cards (30 minutes)

Social Studies: read section & copy glossary words and definitions (20 minutes)

Band: practice all pieces, spend extra time on solos (30-60 minutes)

Math: complete 10 questions (15 minutes)

English reading: read short story (10 minutes)write out thoughts and impressions (20 minutes)

French vocabulaire: practice (30 minutes)

Social Studies: answer comprehension questions (20 minutes)

Now things are broken up a bit more so it isn’t so daunting, everything has due dates to instill a sense of urgency, and my subjects are mixed up to maintain interest. And the key to actually getting through all of it is to take a 5-minute break after each task, as well as whenever my interest starts to wane during the longer tasks.

About the 5-minute breaks: I recommend active breaks, during which you get out of your seat and wander a bit, get a snack from the kitchen, etc. Whatever helps you recharge and won’t get you sucked in so that you forget to return to your work. For some people that is actually reading a book, which would be disastrous for me!

So, the steps I followed:

List all assignments.

Break down long-term assignments into smaller tasks.

Assign due dates to each of these smaller tasks.

Break down other assignments into smaller tasks.

Assign due dates to all of the tasks.

List all tasks that are due today.

Estimate how long each of today’s tasks will take.

Break up larger tasks even smaller (e.g., a group of 20 questions can be split into two groups of 10).

Arrange the tasks in a way that will maintain your interest.

Complete the first task in the list, taking 5-minute breaks as needed.

Take a 5-minute break when the task is finished.

Repeat steps 10 and 11 for each task in the list until done.

I hope this is helpful, and if it doesn’t tackle the actual problem you’re having, please write in again with more details so I can try again!

-J

#Anonymous #ADHD #Actually ADHD #asks #homework #school #getting things done #tips and tricks

[lovedbyherself]

Hold on while I brain dump at 3:30 am.

Hubs working from home has helped my anxiety so much. Sometimes when I take quick trips out of the house, I can leave little at home with him so It’s easier on me. He’s seen for his own eyes the mayhem that ensues with little through the day. He helps more around the house. (Not that he didn’t before. But guys I came home the other day from the store & everything was cleaned & he had the best vaccuum lines) 😍

We went to the preschool tour for the school my nanny kids are currently going too. Little & I went for a tour & she knew exactly where we were. We walked into the classroom, & she looks at the teacher & says “perfect”. 😭 I knew I’d love this place & feel way more comfortable sending her here than the town program. Plus, this preschool includes breakfast, hot lunch & snack - & runs Monday / wed / fri 8-2 ! Guys. I can’t wait for her to start. She’s so excited!!! (My baby is so big wtf. Starting school?! 😭)

I had my alternator in my suv replaced. But ever since I got my last oil change. My car has been running weird. I also had to replace the battery I just replaced in the first week of December, due to the alternator breaking. (Alternator powers batter. If alternator doesn’t work. Battery drains. Doesn’t recharge. Kills batter. Ie; you have to replace both) thank god for warranties! My second battery was free. However. Hubs brought up the idea of me trading in my suv for something else. Kinda thinking about it.

We’re looking into a gym for us to use. So we’ll need one that provides childcare. I’m not trying to just let any teenybopper watch my infant. (Little is manageable & can talk for herself - she’s fine ) However I’m also trying to give myself time to do something for myself, now that I’ll be able to with little in school.

We need to settle down on a hard list of potential places to move in the next 6 months. I want to live in a state that isn’t overly expensive. CT & MA are both expensive. But not natural disasters really. Plus seasons are a BIG plus now that we technically don’t have to leave the house when it snows. 🙌🏼 HELPPPPPPP.

[jchb32273]

Chapter 30 - FINALLY up!

Maker’s Breath did NaNo take it out of me! THREE chapters published in one month... Now here it is, more than halfway through December and I am just now getting the latest chapter up! My poor brain needed a recharge! ^_^

Anyhoo, here is a snippet from the newest chapter of Kylara’s Story!

Enjoy!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

No matter how hard I tried, sleep would not come for me. I tossed and turned. I sat up and glanced around the hall. Everyone else was sound asleep. Perhaps a walk will help me get sleepy, I thought. I silently got up from my bedroll and walked off. Soon I found myself facing a door to a room that Alistair and I had not explored. I opened the door slowly, so as not to make any noise. Then I slipped inside and closed it behind me.

I summoned my glowing orb to better see. It was a grand bedroom. It was certainly not Arl Howe’s, as it looked too feminine. Perhaps his wife’s? Though the room was clean, there was an air of disuse to it. Hadn’t I heard somewhere that Howe’s wife had died? Suppose that may explain this room no longer being used. I sat down on the edge of the bed.

It was cold in this room compared to the great hall. I shivered, then pointed at the hearth of the fireplace in the room. “Tòisich air teine.” <Start a fire.> The magic flames glowed a soft blue color. It wouldn’t burn as hot as normal fire, but at least it took the chill out of the room.

What am I doing? I sighed as I stared at the flames. I thought I’d be happier now that I’m without him… but I’m even more miserable than I was before. Have I become so dependent? I felt the crystal necklace that rested on my chest. It wasn’t as cold as it had been when we had fought, but it was still cool, and there was still no shine from it. I had tried to remove it a few times, but the stubborn clasp refused to come loose.

As I sat there on the bed, I tried one more time, but as before, it still wouldn’t come undone.

“So yours will not come off either, hmm? Interesting…”

I whirled around to see Alistair standing on the other side of the bed. I hadn’t even heard him come in! I turned back to face the fire so he couldn’t read my face. “What do you want, Alistair?”

“I’m here because I couldn’t sleep any more than you, apparently.” He came around to the side of the bed where I was and sat down next to me.

“You tried removing your crystal necklace?” I asked. I tried to keep my voice from wavering.

“Only once. It was right after we… fought.” He stared at the floor. “When it wouldn’t come off, I just left it alone. Having the cold of it stinging me constantly really made me realize it was trying to tell me something… yet I kept stubbornly kept trying to refuse its wisdom.” He looked up at me and put his hand on my thigh. “I miss you, Kylara. I miss what we had. Is there any way I can convince you that I made a mistake and I really want you back in my life?”

“And how would we make it work between us? Need I remind you what you said to me about two weeks ago? ‘I’m going to be King… and you? You’re just a commoner. A mere mage’.” My hands clenched into fists. “I… can’t. I can’t be there at the palace with you… knowing you’d be married to someone else, loving someone else.”

“But I don’t love anyone else,” he replied. “I love you.”

I shifted away from him. “You know damn well what I mean, Alistair. You’d have to do your ‘royal duty’ and father an heir. They’ll expect it of you… and you know it.”

“I can refuse, can’t I?” He was silent for a moment, then growled out, “It’s my life!”

“A King’s life is never his own. It belongs to the country, to the people he governs.”

Another moment of quiet, then he said, “Then maybe I should just let Anora keep the crown. I never wanted it anyway.”

“So we are going to let Loghain win then? That’s it? Just give up here and now? What do you think Eamon will say once we get back to Redcliffe?” I said.

Alistair got up from the bed and began pacing in front of the fireplace. “Maker damn it all! No, of course I don’t want to let Loghain win! This is the torment I’ve been dealing with in my head and heart! I can’t have it both ways! If I don’t step up at the Landsmeet, then I disappoint Eamon! But if I take the crown, I don’t have you!”

Tears ran down my cheeks. “We should have just stuck to our duty as Grey Wardens. We should have never gotten together…”

He stopped his pacing and stood in front of me. “But we did… and I wouldn’t take it back even if I could…”

#fanfic #ao3 #dragon age origins #alistair theirin #alistair x warden #female amell #my original character #love and angst #all the feels

[adriannanderson]

This has been a long time coming buddy

I haven't sat and written to you in months

Today's the day I guess

But I need to back track a bit so you can understand how I got to this point on this day

You know we lost Suz almost a year ago

Obviously her family is continuing on their grief path, as they will for years to come, but these markers - her birthday, her last days - these are hard, hard milestones

Having the knowledge of what they are facing is a painful side affect of having walked just ahead of them on our own grief path

It weighs me down.....as it should

That's what God made us for - to serve and love others

Sometimes that looks like recognizing and choosing to share in the hardest parts

In addition, last December a sweet family that we are connected with in so many small ways that they become big connections - their lives changed in a blink

The daddy of the family suffered a very damaging stroke, and his whole family was thrown into a constant living limbo, as his prognosis and progress was slow and ever changing

A traumatic brain injury - we know a lot about those

We learned no one REALLY knows when/if a patient will recover

I don't know how many times I heard about you "It's all up to him now. Time will tell!"

There are no easy way to live through or with a TBI

As much as we all prayed, cared for, visited, and loved on them, they still had to say goodbye to their son, daddy, husband, brother, and friend

He came to live with you and Jesus on your 8th birthday

More recently a family from my hometown lost their dad and I have yet to reach out to them.....I want to

Why can't I

Last week I intended to be at a celebration of life for my tiny sweet flower girl

I forgot to go 💔

How am I letting these things happen

Supporting grievers is what I'm supposed to do

I normally share a lot around your birthday - pictures, memories, your video

This year I was not able to

Not because I physically couldn't or thought I shouldn't, but because it was a heavy time here in our community

Those heavy times often stifle my words

Those heavy times require standing in the gap for those you love

And that's not possible if you're focused on your own feelings

And I'm good with that! It's as it should be

Having said that, those feelings you put away to focus on others - yeah, they don't go away

They just wait for another time to come to the surface

This summer I've worked - not something I've done with my summers in many years

I've been babysitting kiddos, took money at all the softball games, and picked up a house cleaning gig

As your Bigs get older, their needs and desires become more expensive, so I knew I was working for a good cause 💛

The busy schedule has allowed very little time for self care, BUT I had this vacation planned with 2 of the best friends you could ask for, and it was my light at the end of the tunnel

A recharge that I knew I desperately needed

Tonight a deer ran into the side if my vehicle

It was no ones fault

The damn thing ran out of the ditch at full speed and straight into the driver's door, leaving behind all kinds of bodily fluids, a shattered window, and significant damage to the drivers side of the vehicle

Your daddy was bringing your sister home from a hitting camp

Thankfully they were close to home and they only got some minor cuts from the glass that exploded all over them

And I'm so, so grateful for that

I'm also really, really sad that those vaca funds will now be going towards a deductible to fix a vehicle

I know that this problem is so very small in light of a million other things that are happening around the world

I know

But it is the straw that is breaking the camels back

It's rare that I let set backs rattle me anymore

I'm pretty go with the flow, look for the positives, and keep pushing forward

It is what it is

It's been a while since I've been in this headspace - where the stomach tightens and rolls, it's hard to think and stay focused on what is happening around me when there is a high level of activity, where decisions are made by accident and I just go with it

Today I saw that daddy's old van at a job site, a few hours after his kiddos had a conversation with Emry on our golf cart ride, about their daddy and Ems brother in Heaven

And it caught my breath, as I wondered how his mama was feeling today 💔

Then the light at the end of the tunnel disappeared tonight when your daddy called to tell me about the deer

Grief is a crazy path

I've learned how to carry the pain and the joy together pretty well

But today pain wins

I learned a long time ago to sit in the pain, let it do what it must, then get the hell out of there and get back to work

Tonight..... and maybe tomorrow too..... I'll sit in the pain that's been waiting to come to the surface for the better part of a year

Then it's up and out

I love you dude

So much

I know you're good

Really, I'm good too

I am

Just a tough day

I love you buddy

Mom