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autisticlancemcclain · 7 months

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“Neither of you are getting it.”

Twin sighs come from his laptop speakers. Lance lifts his head up from where he’s smushed it into his pillow to glare at his two best friends who apparently hate him, for some reason.

“I mean, there’s not much to get,” Pidge says. “You’re a big dumb gay loser and this predicament effects you emotionally.” She looks at Hunk as if to ask, right?, and Hunk, who is a traitor of the worst kind, shrugs in agreement.

“I don’t even get what you’re worried about, man. You have consistently been the one to get him the best gifts for years. None of us even try to beat you.”

“That’s the point!” Lance shrieks. “You’re not listening! I had ideas every other year, Hunk! This year I have nothing!” He taps his head aggressively. “There is not one thing in here! Nada!”

Pidge snickers. “Well, that’s not new.”

“Can it, Pidgeon.”

Hunk holds his hands up placatingly before the two of them can really start to go at it. “Alright, alright. Pidge, have mercy on him. He’s suffering. Lance —” he falters. “Dude, you walked into that one. Sorry.”

Lance will concede to that point. He kind of set his own trap. But still, he’s having a crisis, Pidge as his best friend should be going easy on him, so he sticks his tongue out at her.

“I just — ugh.” He takes a moment to fluff his pillows back up before falling backwards on them and throwing a hand over his face. This is a ridiculous thing to be so bothered by, and he knows it, but he is. Bothered by it, that is. He hasn’t been this lost since the first year they were in space.

“Lance,” Hunk says gently, startling him. “It’s August, dude. Keith’s birthday is two months away. You really, truly, do not need to be stressing about it.”

Lance’s eyes trace the long-faded glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling. His gazes unfocuses on the red-orange star that represents Pollux, which has always been his favourite.

“This will be the first time I’ve seen him in months,” Lance says quietly. “I want him —” he swallows. The dryness of his throat makes his voice scratchy. “I want to be perfect.”

It. He had meant to say, I want it to be perfect. Because that’s what he wants — he wants Keith to get here safely and actually be able to stay this time and nothing to go wrong and him to celebrate his birthday surrounded by his loved ones, his friends and family. And — Lance. Wants to be there. Also.

He swallows again. It’s harder this time.

“He’s going to love anything you give him,” Pidge says, uncharacteristically soft. “You know he’s just going to be glad to see you upright and in one piece.”

Lance winces and the strained quality of her voice, the sudden darkness in Hunk’s expression. He knows he’s the cause of it.

It was hard on the team, his death.

He knows it was. That’s why he never talks about it. (They were never supposed to even know about it. When Lance’s soul was yanked back into his body and Allura gasped in relief and hugged him to her chest and sobbed out, I thought I was too late, Lance clamped his mouth shut and kept it that way. When he had rare moments on their long trip home where the adrenaline began to fade and he felt his heart begin to slow, he picked fights. He ran sims. He made stupid decisions. He kept his body distracted and his mind wound so tightly around Red’s that there was no chance for it to slip, to remember what had happened to him, to fade back into that dark and silent place. He kept his mouth shut and kept his quintessence dragged up to the highest level he could bring it.

And when they defeated Sendak, and they had to sacrifice their lions or sacrifice their friend, Lance’s hands shook and he made the obvious choice. And he doesn’t know what happened, when the adrenaline finally faded and the one thing keeping him tethered to their plane disappeared, but he knows when his soul was yanked back into his body, permanently this time, his friends wouldn’t answer his questions or let him out of their sight and all of them had the same haunted look to their eyes. He has never had the strength to ask. But he has been careful with himself, since. He covers his Altean marks — a testament of how much Allura gave of herself to keep him alive — and keeps his feet planted on Earth and out of danger and knows that he owes it to them to keep himself safe.)

“Well, anything I could give him would be better than what you got him last year,” Lance says loudly, beating back the oppressive silence that has fallen over them. It works — Pidge scowls at him, remembering the plant she had got him that had turned out to be highly toxic to any Galra. Hunk snickers at the memory of the bright blue hives that had covered Keith’s skin for weeks.

“How was I to know?” Pidge cries. Hunk and Lance’s increasing laughter only seems to make her angrier “He — ugh! It doesn’t matter, anyway, because you handmade him a leather sheath for his knife so he wasn’t looking at what I was giving him anyway! Shut up! Ugh!”

“It’s true,” Hunk agrees, chuckling. “We should make you gift stuff last. It’s not fair and makes everyone else look bad. He couldn’t take his eyes off that sheath, last year. He still wears it every day.”

Pidge mutters something in her hand that sounds suspiciously like “he couldn’t take his eyes off of someone,” so Lance ignores her in favour of whining again.

“Yeah, well, there’s no point this year because I’ve got nothing. I started making that sheath in June. I started making his jacket from two years ago in March. But this year I didn’t have any ideas and now I don’t have the time, even if I do come up with something. ” He sighs, defeated. “It sucks. I’ve hardly seen him outside of a computer screen and I’m only going to see him less, and I can’t even give him something to remember me by.”

“You’re talking like you’re never going to see him again,” Pidge points out. “There would be way less pressure if you just — saw him more, dude.”

Lance scoffs. “Yeah, right. Lemme just pack up and run off to space with him. Boom, all problems solved.”

He blinks.

He sits up so fast he very nearly brains himself on his bed frame.

“Holy shit,” he whispers. He looks over at his friends, who are smiling widely. His heart pounds.

Holy shit.

“I gotta go,” he shouts, scrambling to grab his laptop.

“Goodbye, Lance,” Hunk says, rolling his eyes fondly.

Pidge makes a crude gesture at him because she’s the worst. “Bye, gay pining loser!”

He slams the laptop lid shut and holds it tightly to his chest. Everything, finally, starts to click into place — Lance smiles; small at first, but quickly his mouth spreads so wide his cheeks ache, and his eyes practically squish shut.

He knows what to do.

———

On the morning of October 23rd, he is stressing.

“You’re embarrassing,” calls Allura, from where she‘s been lazing on the couch and eating pineapples for the last three days.

“I regret asking for your help,” Lance grunts, struggling to lift a sack of flour. He side eyes her. “Especially because you’re supposed to be helping, Miss Superstrength.”

Allura snorts, shoving another chunk of pineapple in her mouth. “I am helping. If I wasn’t here you would have talked yourself out of this several times over. You’re welcome!”

“Ugh,” Lance says, because she’s right and he knows it. “I’m not letting you lick the spoon.”

“What? Hey!”

He does let her lick the spoon. Because he has no discipline. But to her eternal credit she does actually help, too, and in more ways than just picking him up and physically shaking him out of his many freak outs, and he has a lot of them.

He’s been planning this for weeks. There are so many aspects, so many moving parts, that it’s just — stressful. Trying to put together a party that balances all the people who want to come together and celebrate Keith’s 25th with every single time constraint and restoration effort and even Keith’s own discomfort with too much fanfare is…a lot. Plus all the actual stuff that goes into hosting people at a party — Lance absolutely would not be able to do any of this without Allura’s help. She is, after all, his best friend, even though she drives him crazy and always has, in more ways than one.

At eleven thirty, when all the (tasteful, despite what his siblings had insisted was too boring) decorations have been set up and most of the food has been prepared, Allura clasps her palms to his cheeks and says, “Lance, breathe.”

Lance looks at her with wide eyes and says, “I’m cancelling everything.”

“You’re not.”

“I am. I can’t do this. What was I thinking? This is — cringe. Ridiculous.” His chest shakes on an inhale. “What was I thinking, ‘Llura?”

She hums thoughtfully. Her thumbs trace his cheekbones, wiping away the makeup that covers his Altean marks, making Lance twitch but not move.

“You were thinking,” she says quietly, “about how long it has been since everyone has been on the same planet.”

He swallows. “Yeah.”

“And how much we have all missed each other.

His shaking hands come up to grip her wrists, breath shuddering as he exhales.

“Yes.”

“And. Maybe. How much you miss Keith.” She pulls her hands away from his face and wraps them around his hands. “How much you miss the stars, even.”

“I’m scared,” he admits.

She squeezes his hands. “When has that stopped you?”

———

It’s three thirty and there’s still no sign of Keith.

Shiro and the rest of the Atlas crew, including Hunk and Veronica, arrived arrived sometime around one. The Holts came in right on their heels. Kolivan, Krolia, and a few other Blades Keith has kept up with over the years showed up a few hours ago. Lance’s family has been here the whole time, and Coran and Romelle came with Allura. Everyone that Lance had invited to come is here.

Except the one person Lance actually wants to come.

“Lance,” Shiro greets, somehow sensing his anxiety like the guru goody goody he is and popping up next to him.

Lance smiles anyway. He’s missed him too much to do anything else — he hasn’t seen anyone on the Atlas since their last restock, ten weeks ago.

“Hey, Shiro.”

“You freaking out?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. I’d be shocked if you weren’t, you walking Xanax advertisement.”

That startles a laugh out of Lance, and he shoves him, grateful for the distraction. Shiro grins wide and throws an arm around him, guiding him away from the front door — where he’s been biting his nails and staring at the sky in anxious hope for the last twenty minutes — and back to the rest of the party, ducking under flailing limbs and the random football that someone has brought out for some reason (Marco, probably).

“He’s gonna come, you know. He’s been excited about it since you invited him. I have received no less than nine hundred and twenty-two texts about it. It’s all very sweet and embarrassing. He’s coming, Lance.”

Lance huffs. “Unless he’s dead or maimed somewhere. I did some quick stat evals and there’s at 37% chance he was attacked on the flight to Earth and is bleeding out as we speak.”

Shiro stops them. He blinks at Lance several times. He sighs.

“You actually need to see a psychiatrist. Genuinely.”

“Nah.”

Shiro flicks him on the forehead, but the fond smile stays affixed to his face. Soon Lance finds himself relaxing, tucked under Shiro’s arm. He’s probably right — he usually is. Keith is chronically late, just as a person. Lance even told him the party started at ten just to make it more likely that he’d show up before everyone left. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be places — he just struggles with the concept of time passing, and also gets distracted a lot. (There are a lot of people who need Keith’s help, after all, and he’s a bleeding heart if Lance has ever known one. All humans are wired to respond to calls for help, but Keith seems almost attuned to them. If Lance thinks about his crooked smile and kind eyes for too long he gets physically nauseous.)

As Lance’s watch ticks its way to four o’clock, a light streaks across the sky, and before Lance knows what he’s doing he ducks under Shiro’s arm and starts running. He flings open the back gate and slides down the sandy hills, barely managing not to trip on rocks and pits in the sand where children have dug little pools. He doesn’t bother to slow as the aircraft makes its fiery descent, confident the pilot will not hit him, and by the time he makes it across the beach his bare feet burn and he’s stepped on a sharp shell and lost his jacket somewhere near the house. But it doesn’t matter, because the craft lands and seconds later the door flings open and Keith comes sprinting out, still clad in armour, hair long and thick and braided back, and he runs at Lance at full speed and they collide at the top of a sand dune and Lance leaps into his arms and Keith loses his balance and they go tumbling down, laughing, Keith’s hand on his waist and Lance’s fingers clutching tightly at his shoulders.

“You made it!” Lance shouts, smile wider than he ever thought capable.

Keith laughs again, full-bodied and relieved, crooked incisors on full display and long neck pulled back as his head rests on the ground.

“I know! I’m late, I’m sorry, I lost track of time and —”

“You always lose track of time,” Lance says warmly. He traces a strand of hair that has loosened from Keith’s braid, brushing it off his forehead and tucking it behind his ear. He stays where he is, half-pinning Keith into the sand, knees on either side of him, re-memorizing the curve of his grin and the indigo of his eyes and the scars on his face and the softness of his gaze. Suddenly his chest aches, painful in the best possible way, and his stomach pits and swirls and butterflies flutter wildly in his abdomen. Heat zaps up his veins and sparks through his arteries. The slowly setting mid-autumn sun casts golden light on Keith’s face and Lance is reminded, again, how breathtaking things are outside of Earth.

“Happy birthday,” he breathes, choking on the words.

Keith’s eyes crinkle. His hand comes up to cup his cheek, thumb pressing gently on the gold Altean marks. They curve perfectly around the shape of his fingerprint.

“I missed you, Bluebell.”

Someone huffs. “Yeah, and he nearly killed us trying to get here. Some kind of leader you are, Captain.”

Keith flushes, gently pushing Lance up so he can get up and glare at Ezor properly. “We were fine!”

“We crossed nine hundred million lightyears in two days!”

“I took a shortcut!”

“Through weblum mating grounds!”

Lance punches his friend in the shoulder. Keith pouts at him, wounded.

“You flew through weblum mating grounds?!”

“It was fine!” Keith defends. “It wasn’t even an issue!”

Acxa scoffs incredulously. “We were chased by fourteen weblums at once, Kogane.”

“But did you die?”

All three of Keith’s crew roll their eyes. Keith crosses his arms smugly. Lance loves him so fiercely that it hurts.

“Keith!”

With what Lance can only call divine instinct, he has enough forethought to throw himself out of the way before a five foot nothing blur throws herself at Keith’s person and sends them both crashing to the ground, significantly more painfully that Keith and Lance’s whole thing. Keith groans loudly, but Pidge doesn’t even give him half a second to complain, dragging him back upright and hugging him properly. Keith, softie that he is, hugs her back immediately, smiling into her hair.

“Hey, Pidge.”

“Happy birthday, loser! Birthday beats!”

She, immediately, starts to let him have it, impervious to Keith’s yelps. He attempts to squirm away, but Zethrid, lover of violence and also loud supporter of Pidge in general, firmly clamps onto his shoulder to allow Pidge to assault him in peace.

“That was twenty-six!” he says in outrage when she finishes.

She smiles pleasantly. “You were late.”

Hunk, thankfully, chooses that moment to jog over, carrying an ice pack because he’s an angel and also a genius.

“Figured Pidge would come in fists swinging,” he jokes, leaning down to hug Keith tightly. “Happy birthday, man. It’s been too long.”

“It’s been two weeks,” Keith protests, but he looks like he agrees.

It doesn’t take long for the rest of the party to flock over, despite the fact that it would be much easier for everyone to just wait for Keith to walk over to them. Lance isn’t surprised — it’s not like he could wait, after all. When Keith is around, people gather. Such is the way of the world.

He smiles at the crowd of Keith’s loved ones, and especially at the bewilderment on his face. It’s been years, but Lance knows that he still gets surprised when he’s reminded how big his family has gotten. It’s nice to see that reminder written all over his face. He edges out of the smattering of people and starts to head back to the house, figuring he might as well start setting up the table to get dinner started now that Keith’s here. Most of it is already cooked and keeping warm in the oven, but he figured it would be best to wait until everyone was ready to —

“Hey, Lance, wait up.”

He startles when a hand wraps its way around his wrist, relaxing when he recognises the calloused fingers and leather-covered palm. Keith jogs over the rest of the way now that he has Lance stopped, falling into step next to him.

“What’re you doing?” Lance asks, looking at him urgently. “Go say hi to everyone!”

Keith shrugs. “I’ll get there.” He flashes another smile at Lance and it’s crooked and familiar and Lance is weak in the knees. “I started an argument about human versus Altean time measuring systems. Everyone is now picking sides. They won’t notice I’m gone for the next ten minutes at least. I’m all yours, Sharpshooter.”

Lance resists the urge to bury himself in the sand and die of mortification. There’s actually no physical reason for Keith to look the way that he does. It’s — too much. The smouldering eyes and sturdy shoulders are one thing, but with the whole — grin and hair and wide hands and fucking — everything else; it’s too much. It’s a lot. Keith should maybe — wear a mask, or something. Or a hood. Or be more of a klutz, just so he’s humbled slightly.

“Oh,” Lance croaks, trying desperately not to focus on the way Keith’s hand is still holding onto Lance. “That’s — cool.”

“Cool.”

Blue, Red, if your spirits are still kicking around somewhere, send help, he prays at the heavens.

Apparently they are, because the heavens do indeed provide.

The air in front of the sparks and warps, flashing blue so bright Lance had to squeeze his eyes shut. He hears a loud bark, and opens his eyes again just in time to catch the ball of fur and floof that throws himself into his arms.

“Kosmo!” he cries, pulling away from Keith in his haste to hug the space-wolf tightly. Kosmo yips in delight, covering Lance’s face in dog slobber as he wiggles around in excitement. “Oh, buddy, I was wondering where you were! Mwah! Mwah mwah mwah!”

“He saw the crowd on the descent and got nervous,” Keith explains, scratching Kosmo’s fur fondly. “He was hiding in the back, huh, buddy?”

“Like father like son,” Lance teases. He adjusts the big dog into his arms so he’s half on his shoulders, panting right next to his ear and giving him gross slobbery kisses every three seconds.

“I do not hide from crowds,” Keith huffs. “And he can walk, Lance. Don’t baby him. He’s always spoiled after he hangs out with you.”

“You do so. And of course I spoil the little baby!” Lance coos, scratching under his chin. Kosmo howls in excitement, tail thumping hard against Lance’s hip. “Who’s the bestest boy? Who is my favourite in the whole big universe? It’s you! Yes, Kosmo-baby, it’s you! Good boy!”

“He’s not your favourite,” Keith grumps.

“Yes he is! Oh, yes he is!”

He coos over Kosmo for the whole walk back to the house, only setting him down when they make their way to the kitchen. Keith grabs the dog gently under the ear when he finally stands on his own, bending down to look him straight in the eyes.

“Kosmo,” he says quietly, angling himself slightly away from Lance, “remember what we Talked About.” He stares at the wolf for several moments. “You know. About the — thing.”

Amazingly, the dog seems to bark in understand. Keith nods in satisfaction, patting him on the head. “Good. Go do.” With a poof Kosmo disappears again, leaving just the two of them in the kitchen.

Lance pouts. “Aw. I wanted to spend more time with him. I haven’t seen him in months.”

Keith looks affronted. “You haven’t seen me in months!”

Lance turns away to hide his smile, busying himself with the food. “Eh.” He waves an oven-mitt-clad hand dismissively. “I text you all the time.

“You’re a bully,” Keith pouts. “You’re being mean to me on my birthday.”

“At the party I put together for you, dweeb. Don’t you pout at me.”

In response, Keith inserts himself into Lance with the guise of helping him plate and pouts harder.

“Bully,” he emphasizes.

Lance flicks him on the nose. Keith catches his hand and holds it hostage between two of his, rubbing his thumb along the bump of Lance’s wrist. Lance considers screaming.

“Help or get out of my kitchen,” he manages instead.

Smirking, Keith does, loading garlic knots onto a plate and stealing several, thinking he’s slick. He’s not — Lance notices, but it’s Keith’s birthday and Lance also ate like six already, so he lets it slide.

They have everything ready to go in under five minutes, loading up as much as they can carry and heading outside to set it all out. Everyone else is back by the time they get there, and Hunk and Shiro scramble to come help set up. Very quickly the party is in full swing, people eating and laughing and wishing Keith a thousand happy birthdays. Keith has always claimed to hate attention and crowds, but he’s — glowing, really. His smile doesn’t leave his face. Maybe it’s that he’s older and maybe it’s that he knows everyone. But more likely it’s the easy confidence that’s grown in him over the years, sprouting from the knowledge that he is good and he is kind and he is loved, and trusting everyone who assures him this is true. Lance remembers when he hunched his shoulders and scowled at anyone who looked at him too long. Now he smiles when someone calls his name.

There’s no rhyme or reason to the party. Lance had attempted to plan it, but given up quickly — he knows his people. They’ll flutter around something until inspiration hits and they’ll flutter around something else. The only constant has been food and loading Kosmo up with affection.

As the sun begins its journey below the horizon, someone — Adam — forces Keith into a random lawnchair and says, “Open your gifts, gremlin.”

Immediately, everyone else clambers to grab their gifts and gather around, ignoring Keith’s protests of “I’m twenty-five goddamn years old, I don’t need gifts, you people waste your time and money —” and arguing over who goes first.

Adam goes first. Obviously.

Despite Keith’s grumbling, he’s very obviously touched. He gets a range of things, from a fancy knife from his mother (again) to a framed photo from Shiro, with he and Adam grinning widely at a camera as a young Keith snores in Shiro’s lap. Keith starts bawling some time around gift number three and never really stops. Lance tries to hand him tissues, but after he uses up an entire box decides to let him be a big emotional dork in piece.

“Is this a crystal from the first Balmera we ever visited,” Keith sobs.

Hunk smiles, amused. “It is.”

He makes his way over to Keith’s lawn chair and hugs him tightly for several minutes, muttering something and pressing dozens of kisses into his hair. Keith holds him tightly. Lance himself cries on several occasions, but he’s not alone.

“I just love everyone so much,” Keith blubbers.

“Here we go,” teases Allura, but she’s the one to shoo everyone out of his space to give him a break. “Take a few minutes, darling. Gather yourself. Let me know when you’re up for company again.”

Keith nods at her gratefully. Kosmo makes his way onto Keith’s lap and plants himself there, curling up and laying his head on Keith’s knees. Lance sits on the lawn chair next to Keith, offering him a glass of water that he accepts gratefully.

“I do this every year,” Keith laments, attempting to dry his eyes.

Lance pats him delicately on the hand. “Don’t worry. It’s charming.”

Keith sniffles. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Yes.”

Lance is the only one who hasn’t given Keith his present. Well, and Allura, technically, since she’s part of it. Part of him wants to do it now, get it over with. He even finds the words for it, but then Pidge hollers something about cake, and Keith, who has the biggest sweet tooth in the entire universe, brightens, looking at Lance hopefully, and Lance swallows it down.

“Go sit at the table,” Lance orders. “I’m doing candles and you’re blowing them out.”

“That’s babyish,” Keith protests stubbornly.

“No candles, no cake.”

“Ugh.”

Keith gets up and goes to sit at the table, Kosmo pattering after him.

Smiling to himself, cheeks redder than he would like, Lance ducks back into the kitchen, digging around the cupboards for the candles he bought the other day and carefully pulling the cake out of the fridge.

It’s chocolate-chocolate-chocolate-chocolate. Quadruple chocolate. It’s chocolate cake with chocolate custard and chocolate frosting covered in chocolate decorations. What it is is sugar on a platter, and Keith will devour it. Lance spent more hours than he’s willing to admit on making it. If anyone questions him even a little he is going to die on the spot.

He carefully sticks twenty six candles — one for wishing — on the top of the cake, lighting twenty-five of them. Everyone is already sat down by the time he walks back outside, and the second Coran sees them he starts singing loudly, and everyone else is quick to join in. As much as Keith tries to roll his eyes about the truly startling amount of flame on his cake, nothing he can do can hide the obvious excitement that lights up his face upon sight of the chocolate monstrosity. He takes a deep breath and blows out the candles when the song ends, extinguishing all but one. Immediatey, a ripple of teasing snickers and ooooooou’s fill the air.

“One candle left! You’re gonna get a boyfriend this year!” Pidge shouts, looking directly at Lance.

Both Keith and Lance flush up to their foreheads.

“Cut the cake!” Allura shouts, because she is a true ally and Lance loves her.

Grateful for the distraction, Lance does, nudging Keith out of the way when he tries.

“If you cut the cake then you can’t get the first slice, dorkbrain. Sit down. Let me.”

He does let Lance cut the cake, which makes Lance feel touched for some reason. God, Shiro is right. He needs a psychiatrist. He hates it when Shiro is right.

He’s very smug to receive dozens of compliments on his cake, highest of all from Keith, who scarfs down his first piece in literal seconds (thirty seven, to be exact). He has several more. There will be no leftovers.

But Lance knew that.

It doesn’t take long for people to start milling about again; finishing their dessert and picking at the various fruit trays and chatting and watching the last rays of sun disappear. Lance twitches nervously, stealing glances at Keith, until Allura walks up to him, pinches him on the shoulder, and says, “Get your quiznak together.”

And Lance grumbles, “Yeesh, woman. Alright,” and forces himself to walk over to Keith, who is spinning some hugely exaggerated story to Nadia and Sylvio.

“Children,” Lance says when Keith finally takes a breath, “Tío Lance has to talk to Keith about boring adult things. Go harass your Tío Marco, it will be fun.”

“Quieres tiempo a solas con tu nooooooovioooooo,” the twins singsong in unison, and then run away cackling. Lance flushes bright red and considers pelting strawberries at them like the little shits deserve.

“What was that?” Keith asks, bewildered.

“Probable cause,” Lance mutters darkly.

Keith snorts. “Please don’t murder your niblings.”

“That’ll be my gift to you. Not committing homicide on your birthday.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Well, not really.”

Keith raises his eyebrows. “You mean…” He gestures vaguely at everything. “This isn’t already my gift?”

Lance shrugs.

“Lance, come on! This is more than enough. It must have taken you weeks to prepare.” He shakes his head, looking at Lance with soft, kind eyes. “You always do so much for me.”

Lance shudders, weak under Keith’s gaze.

“I like to.” He pauses. “I miss you. Always. It — fills the time, to do things for you.”

Keith reaches up and brushes some sand from Lance’s hair. He lingers, after, tracing his fingers along the shell of his ear, resting his hand against Lance’s neck. Lance closes his eyes, leaning into it, letting himself have this affection he’s craved like nothing else for months.

“I miss you, too. Constantly. Sometimes you’re all I think about, up there.” He sighs, and Lance can hear the tired, enticing smile on his face. “Wish you were watching my back again, Sharpshooter. No one else does it quite like you.”

Lance forces his eyes open again, although he can’t bring himself to meet Keith’s eyes. He traces the crooked line of his nose, instead, the tilt of his thick brows.

“You going back tonight?”

“Nah, I’ll stay a couple days. I’ve got nothing pressing for another week.”

“Oh, thank God.”

Tell him. Tell him. Tell him, chants the Allura that lives in his head.

Give me a goddamn second, he snaps back at it.

“Uh, Allura and I have been. Working. On a project.”

Keith tilts his head. “Oh?”

“Yeah, she’s here a lot. Obviously.” He gestures to his Altean marks, which he has just remembered are uncovered. He’s fine — all systems are running and he is a-okay. But his situation was a little different than Shiro’s. A little more Frankenstein. Lance depends on quintessence heavier than anyone else — he’s probably fine to make his own and live his life, but…he’s always struggled with depression. And Allura worries. So she wormholes to Earth regularly to hang out and make sure he’s not too low.

They have a lot of time to scheme, the Blue Paladins of Voltron.

“Obviously,” Keith agrees. Unlike everyone else, he doesn’t avoid looking at his marks; doesn’t wince when he’s reminded of them. The only change in his eyes is a look of determination, a renewed intensity in which he watches Lance. It’s a little bit intoxicating.

“I love Earth,” Lance says quietly. “It will always be my home. I will always want to come back here. I want to die here.” He finally meets Keith’s eyes. “But.”

Keith’s eyes are wide. The hand still resting on the curve of Lance’s neck twitches, slightly.

“But?” he asks, breathless.

“I’ve been helping her organize plans for a castleship. A little smaller than the old one, but — you know. Similar. It’s something to do. I’ll feel better knowing you guys are together, up there, fighting as a team together. There’s the Atlas, but it’s not the same. It’s not Voltron.”

“Oh.” Some of the excitement dims from Keith’s expression, although he takes great care to keep the smile firmly on his face. “That’s great, Lance. I miss the castle too. It’ll be a little more stable, and missions will —”

“And I’m coming with you,” Lance blurts.

Keith freezes.

“To space. Permanently. Um, mostly. I still want to come back to Earth and see my mom and everybody but you know. I miss everybody. I’m lonely. And being a farmer is actually super duper boring. No offense to farmers, but I want to shoot shit again. I even miss training, which is crazy, because I hate training —”

“Lance,” Keith says, and Lance says “Yeah?” and then he’s being pulled forward and Keith’s other hand comes to rest on his hip and he is being kissed.

“Oh,” he breathes, eyes fluttering shut and words fading from his brain. His hands slide into Keith’s hair without his conscious thought, and he tilts his head and lets Keith devour him as the butterflies storm in his stomach and kisses Keith back like he will get all the breath he needs from Keith’s lungs. His head spins and his knees go weak and Keith smells like pine and sandalwood and his lips are chapped and his hands are calloused and it’s the most wonderfully strange mix of foreign and familiar, bexause Lance knows all these things, but he has never known them in this way.

“Finally!” someone shouts, and soon there are wolf whistles and catcalls and Keith’s smile is pressed against his and Lance can feel the press of his crooked incisors against his bottom lip and he could live off the sensation.

“Happy birthday,” he whispers, half-drowned out by the noise of their teasing friends.

“Exactly as I wished it to be,” Keith whispers back, and then kisses him again and again and again.

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kakiastro · 4 days

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The Numerology and Astrology of 1997

Numerology is my 2nd favorite thing to study besides Astrology. They go hand in hand in my mind. They’re interconnected with each other. You’ll see when I break it down for y’all in this post.

I specifically chose this year because well, I realized 1997 and 2024 are both 8 years. Let me break it down…

Add up the numbers

1 + 9 + 9 + 7 = 26

2 + 6 = 8

2 + 0 + 2 + 4 = 8

So if you were born in 1997, then you was born during an 8 year. 2024 is an 8 year as well. So this year is like a rebirth of some sorts or a karmic cleansing.

Keep in mind. This is different from life path numbers because you add your birth month, day and year. It’s a lot lol but we’re only focusing on your birth year only

-ruled by Saturn and Capricorn in numerology. These born natives may have had a tough or not easy upbringing. They may have had to grow up or learn some harsher lessons early in life than most. They were born during a karmic year so if you’re the type who believes in reincarnation, then you can say these native “have been here before” could be an ancestor that’s come back, I think a lot of kids born this year are “old souls” as well.

-these natives life lesson needs to learn how to balance the spiritual world with the material world. They have a strong belief in a higher power(s) and believe that no matter what challenges they go through, they will succeed and flourish. These natives are the hard knocks kids. These are the first group of Gen-Z but they relate more to their older Millennials siblings. They remember what the world was like right before we entered into today’s digital world. They remember blockbuster and flip phones, hell, most of them probably had one themselves as preteens before smart phones took off😅

-another lesson these natives need to learn is to help out when they can. It doesn’t always have to be financially either, helping someone with bags of groceries, complimenting someone (helps their self worth), donating old clothes or money to a charity, giving out advice or encouraging words to people are also good. Do this out of the kindness of your soul and heart, not because you expect a reward. I will tell you this, 8 is a loop so what you put out will come back around one way or another. I know that cliche but that’s the energy 8 has. 8 is connected to the spirit realm and earthly remember that.

-ambitious and powerful individuals. They enter a room and you notice them immediately. If these natives do succeed materially, just know, it was through hard work, sweat, blood and tears literally and figuratively lol

- August is the 8th month of the year. This is one of the Summer months. August is late Leo and Early Virgo seasons. These natives exhibit warm energy which means theyre kind, and have a welcoming personality. They may be popular in their friend group or just well liked by people. They may constantly go through health issues in their life but these people are warriors, they can get through some tough situations. August is a late summer month, these people are considered late bloomers (not a bad thing!) and since they’re a Capricorn group, their life can become more lighter and easy going as they get older. They work hard in their early years to relax in there older years. Usually after their First Saturn Return and around 35 is when life can start to improve.

Astrology

-since this is a Saturn ruled year group, we need to look at what sign Saturn was in, in 1997.

-Saturn was in Aries during this year. Which means this group has Martian energy. They are warriors like I said earlier. Harsh upbringings but they push through. I wonder how many people born this year had to have surgery or suffered any burns growing up. Scars may be heavily present in these individuals during this year.

-identity and finding who they are outside off what they were taught to be will be a theme for them. They may struggle with self confidence during younger years but they find it as they age. I know I talk about age a lot but it is significant for this group since Saturn rules Age and time.

-since Saturn is in Aries, these folks 1h and Mars are the most important.

In 1997, Mars was in Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius and Capricorn.

-Mars Libra natives will learn the lesson how to balance the most. Working with others and being diplomatic will be lessons on what to learn. Marriage and partnerships. Family such as their grandmothers will important to these natives. They need to learn the balance when to pick up their sword and when they need to lay it down to negotiate. Aries oppose Libra. There’s always going to be a push-pull with these natives. I can’t stress enough, find that balance.

-Mars Scorpio natives will learn the lesson of vulnerability and intimacy. Aries is an independent and solo sign but Scorpio is how we connect on a deeper level with each other. Sex may be something they struggle with and will need to learn understand beyond societal conditions on it. Financials and paying off debt.

-Mars Sagittarius natives will learn the lesson of philosophy and beliefs. You may be the type to fight for them and don’t like to be challenged on them. Now you will need to learn others beliefs and this doesn’t mean you have to agree with them but it’s best to get well rounded on different viewpoints for your spiritual benefit.

-Mars Capricorn natives will be the main ones learning about hard work and ambition. I feel like this group may have it the hardest because you got that double Saturn energy in you that you have to learn. People may not respect you or you don’t get the recognition you feel you deserve. I promise once you learn theses old cycles, it will get better. Aries Sq Capricorn as well so this is not an easy but necessary lesson. Y’all got this!

8 is also ruled by Pluto. So this group will always be going through extreme transformation, this doesn’t always have to be a bad thing either. Their Pluto is in Sagittarius so their beliefs and world view will go through different phases. They have deep thirst for knowledge and truth. 8 is also co ruled by Mars so there’s that warrior energy again lol

These Natives are turning 27 this year!

2 + 7 = 9

9 represents endings and cycles. 9 is also ruled by Mars and in astrology is ruled by Jupiter.

Saturn is currently in Pisces. Pisces also rules over endings since it’s the last sign of the zodiac. They are also going through their pre-Saturn Return shadow period.

The Current NN Aries is conj their Saturn and numerology planet ruler. A small few is going through their Reverse Nodal return as well

This is also their 4h profection year. The 4h isn’t just about family, it’s connected to your soul and soul family.

-these natives are going to feel like they’re going through Deja vu while also going through new experiences. There’s a level of uncertainty thats filled with hope. My advice is to just go with the flow and take each day at a time. You guys are wrapping up 8 year another cycle. They are discovering who they are under in depth. They are exploring there faith and ideals and what feels right to them.

-This current cycle lasted from 2016-2024. Think back on those years, while still learning this one.

-This cycle will be from 2024-2033. 2033 is the next 8 year

Fun facts

When you all were born, Titanic, Jurassic Park, Men in Black were the biggest movies of that year!

The first Harry Potter was also released that year. It’s funny that there’s a tv show in the making during its return😅

#astrology #astrology community #knowledge #astro observations #love astrology #advanced astrology #kakiastro #tropical astrology #birth chart #numerology community #numerology #numerology by kakiastro

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augustisonline · 24 days

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Too sad to dance - Lucifer Morning star x reader (angst+fluff)

First fic on here!!! I'm a little bit nervous about getting back into writing but, hopefully this is good 😭 this is like, very descriptive and plot heavy so if that's not your thing I'm sorry, but to those who do like that, please enjoy! This is long as fuck.

Summary: Reader struggles with depression and finds themselves at a bar trying to drink their thoughts away. Lucifer goes looking for them and tries to comfort them. (Great summary august)

Warnings: tw for harassment, alcohol, swearing, reader struggles with depression, slight angst, no sexual content but a few sexual comments, implications of suicide, could this be classed as hurt/comfort? Lucifer, gn reader, pre established relationship, minimal use of y/n, fluff. Not proof read.

🎀

Depression. Some people see it as an exaggeration of sadness, some people use it as a joke or some truly struggle with the mental hell that it can be. Today was one of those days. You had found yourself stuck in bed all day, still in your clothes from yesterday. You hadn't moved at all as you were in and out of sleep, trying to shut your mind up so you wouldn't have to think.

Nonetheless, it didn't work. Each time you woke up, it all came flooding back. The existential dread, the numbness and emptiness that your mind was feeling. Depression was your hell whilst living and in the afterlife. You couldn't escape it, even the one thing that you thought would finally free you of this hell, didn't actually end the suffering you had been going through.

So that's how you found yourself wound up at one of the more run down bars in hell, you just wanted to find somewhere where you could forget it all, even if that place was at the bottom of a bottle. You were sat at the bar, the stickiness of the wood beneath your arms really tied together the overall ickiness that this place was making you feel. Even the stool you were sat on felt disgusting.

The bartender made his way over to you, staring at you expectantly as he waited for you to order. "Just give me a glass of the strongest shit you've got." You spoke, your voice monotone as you slid a few bills you pulled from your pocket across the bar, not bothering to count them. A few minutes later the bartender placed the glass in front of you, his scrunched face staring down at you as you chugged the contents of the drink before he turned away to serve someone else.

You placed the glass down on the counter, absentmindedly staring at it, the ice was beginning to melt and although it wasn't very interesting, it kept your mind occupied. As you were deep in thought, your mind wondered to Lucifer. You were supposed to call him this morning. Shit. And you had walked out of the hotel without saying a word, what if you had worried him? You searched your pockets for your phone, only to find out you had forgotten it, a tired sigh escaped your lips as you placed your head in your hands, tears threatening to spill.

You couldn't keep putting him through this, shutting him and everyone else out when you were having a tough time. You felt awful. Lucifer had his own battle with depression and the pressure of being King. He didn't need to be running after you every so often when you disappeared in an attempt to feel better. A few silent tears had fallen from your eyes, you felt like the worst partner in all of Hell.

Caught up in your tears, you didn't notice the man who had sat next to you. Only the sound of him ordering a drink snapped you out of your trance. He looked towards you and smiled before speaking, "Rough day?". You laughed a bit, "When isn't it?" Lifting your head up and straightening your posture as you spoke to the man. He laughed at your words, sipping on his drink as he gave you a smirk.

"I don't think I've ever seen you before. You new around here?" He questioned, setting his drink down, still looking at you as he waited for you to reply. "No, I don't come here often, but I've been around for a few years." You replied, turning to the bartender and signalling for another drink, sliding him the cash as he poured it. The man hummed, staying silent for a moment as he took another swig of what appeared to be whiskey. "I recognise you, what's your name?" He enquired, and you looked at him rather suspiciously. You were surprised it took him this long to recognise you. A lot of guys wouldn't take this long to realise you were Lucifer's partner.

Dating the king of hell was amazing, but it did come with a lot of publicity. Even though Lucifer tried to stay out of the public eye, it did often result in your private dates being crashed by at least one nosey reporter. So, to say you weren't the talk of Hell for a while would be a lie.

"Y/n, but I'm sure you've not seen me before" You dismissed, not feeling up to discussing your relationship with the king to other sinners who would only be friendly to you knowing Lucifer was loaded. The man gasped, his smirk returning to his face as he realised, "Holy shit, you're Lucifers bitch! That's how I knew your face. Damn what you doin' here? He not satisfying ya?". A sigh escaped your lips. Of course the first question would be about his performance in bed. "I'm sorry, I didn't get your name. What was it again?" You asked, your tone turning cold as you began to feel disinterested in the man sat beside you.

"Jackson." He smiled before continuing. "I throw some bomb parties. You should come to one sometime." You internally groaned. Honestly, nothing sounded worse. Being in a room full of frat boys who are stuck like this for eternity? No thanks. "I'll pass on that, I gotta go, sorry." You dismissed, quickly getting up from your stool, holding onto the bar due to your slight drunken state. As you walked towards the exit, Jackson calls on you, quickly walking up to you when you exit the bar and enter the street outside.

"Could I at least get your number? Or walk you home, c'mon, I bet I could make you feel so much better than the short stuff you're banging." He smirked, snickering at his own words, and it internally made you cringe. "Again, I'll pass." You responded, walking past him as you began to walk home, either to the hotel or to Lucifer's. You weren't sure, but you were going somewhere. He grabbed your wrist, and you turned to look at him with annoyance in your eyes. "Look, you seem nice, but I have a boyfriend, I'm really not interested and I'd love to go home so, if you could get your hands off me, I'd appreciate that." You snapped, which caused Jacksons demeanour to change.

"Hey, I was being nice, no need to get pissy! Just, why don't you come with me?" He spoke, almost ordering you to go with him. His grip on your wrist got tighter, and you were sure it would bruise. "I said I'm not interested, now will you -" You spoke before being cut off by a familiar voice, which made you want to disappear then and there. "Excuse me, but they said they aren't interested, so please, leave them alone and go back to whatever hole you may have crawled out of." Lucifer's familiar voice spoke, talking to Jackson with a condescending tone to it.

Jackson's hand freed your wrist, and within seconds, you were watching him run down the street and out of sight. Lucifer turned to you, worry and panic in his gaze and voice. "Are you okay? I've been trying to find you for hours, I was worried, you aren't hurt, are you?" His hands came up to your face, like he was inspecting you for any sign of injury. "I'm fine." You spoke, your tone coming off harsher than you intended. "Sweetheart, you don't sound fine." Lucifer replied softly, the tiny height difference between you making him tilt his head up to meet your eyes.

"Lucifer, I'm fine, I promise. I can handle myself." You snapped, moving your gaze to the pavement you were stood on. "That's not the part I'm worried about, I know you can handle yourself, but I know what these people are like, they're awful, I just worry that they'll take advantage of you when you're vulnerable." His tone was still soft and full of worry, contrasting your harsh tone. Lucifer sighed when you stayed silent, reading you're body language and expression to understand how you felt.

"Look, I get that you might not have wanted me to come here, but honey, I worry about you so much and I care about you, i couldn't sit around knowing you were out of reach somewhere in this shit hole whilst having a breakdown." Lucifer added, continuing to look at your face even though you were still focused on the pavement, your eyes glassy as tears welled up in them. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't keep doing this, I-I thought I was getting better." You mumbled as you began to cry. You didn't even care that you were standing in a street anymore. You just wanted to go home.

Lucifer pulled you into his arms, a hand resting on the back of your head as you broke down, crying onto his shoulder. It took a moment before you had stopped, "Can we go home, please?" You croaked out, sniffling as you pulled your head away to look at Lucifer. "Of course." Lucifer smiled, and within seconds, Lucifer had teleported you both back to his Palace. You were now stood in his bedroom, the gold accents bringing out the main theme of red throughout the room.

"Would you like to talk about what's going on?" Lucifer softly asked, his hands resting on your shoulders. "There's nothing that you don't know to talk about, I just woke up and I wanted to disappear. I'm sorry I made you worry. I thought I was getting better..I just, don't want to keep making you this worried about me." You spoke, voice cracking as you began to tear up again. Lucifers hands cupping your face made you look at him, and he looked at you with a loving gaze that made you feel everything you felt today begin to disappear.

"I know, sweetheart, but please don't apologise for that. You've done nothing wrong, and you've not upset me. Sure, you had me pretty worried, but that's because I care, and I couldn't bear to lose you. You don't realise this, but you have truly, and single-handedly, brought a happiness back into my life that I didn't think I'd ever see again." He paused, giving you a chance to take in his words as he wiped a tear that had fallen onto your cheek.

"What I'm trying to say is you are the most beautiful being I've ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes upon in my immortal life, and I believe that you don't deserve to be down here, you're too sweet and kind and loving for your own good! You make so many people, including myself, smile every day, and I just want to see you smile like that for a change." Lucifer finished, keeping his eyes locked onto yours. You stared at him in awe, eyes widening as you listened to his words, such loving and sweet words that no one had ever spoken to you before.

Feeling lost for words would be an understatement. You were completely taken aback, and for a moment, as you looked into your lovers eyes, it all went quiet. The loving words he spoke were the only things running through your mind, and for the first time in a while, including your time alive and in hell, everything went quiet. "I love you." Those three words were the only words you could put together in response to his, and it was the first time you had said those words in a while. It was Lucifer's turn to be taken aback, as he had already told you he loved you. He was being patient with you and giving you the time you needed to return those words to him. There was no pressure or judgement with him.

"I love you too, my darling, more than I can put into words." Lucifer softly spoke, leaning up to place a gentle kiss to your forehead. You stayed like this for a moment, Lucifer held you close to him, he didn't want to lose you like that again. It was quiet for a moment before the sound of your favourite slow song had begun to play, and Lucifer gently swayed you to the gentle beat. One day you'd figure out how he could do that.

"Dance with me, please," He invited, his tone soft as he held you close. "I'm too sad to dance, Luci." You replied with a small laugh, yet you placed your arms over his shoulders, silently accepting his offer.

"No one is too sad to dance, sweetheart."

🎀

HOLY SHIT THAT TOOK ME A WHILE 😭

anyways, I hope its okay! I kinda get carried away with plot but I'm low-key debating making a part two (no I'm not)

Anyways this was NOT proof read and its 1:36am so, please leave me some constructive criticism.

Thanks bts for inspiring this whole thing 🫶

Word count:??????

Edit: it's been proof read never let me write past 1 am again. Also please say someone got the Jackson Wang joke cuz I'm giggling over my own mind honestly you wouldn't think I'm legally an adult.

#hazbin lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #can you tell i like to write how i feel?#thanks bts for being the soundtrack to this

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greenerteacups · 26 days

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The great hormonal storms in book 5 lead me to this ask: let's talk about sex. Or at least sex ed. Does Hogwarts have it (at least in LH'verse)? Is that a nurse duty or a Head of House one? Did Narcissa sit her baby boy down for The Talk, at least to impart how Miss Granger would return to her parents in the same state she left them or at least unimpregnated? Did she outsource that task to Uncle Severus? Did Ron share what his older brothers passed down? What does our favorite victorian-in-spirit know abt sex beyond "lie back and think of the bloodline" and his hormonal daydreams?

I'm l o s i n g it at the idea of Narcissa instructing Draco to leave Hermione "unimpregnated," which, I just — I think the minute she uses those things in the same sentence, Draco hits the road at the speed of Mach Christ. He's gone. He's not here. He's not in the building. Can't have the Sex Talk if you can't fucking catch me, Mom. (For the record, I can fully see Narcissa trying. She's much less prudish than Draco is — gossips about adultery with her 11-y/o son on Christmas morning, references Ye Olde Wilde Times with Lucius, cracks the occasional bawdy joke, etc. — she just doesn't often see the need to discuss it, being aware that Draco, as far as she knows, remains an un-Awakened little Victorian. The Great Granger Debacle of 1995 is likely raising her suspicions there.) That said, Draco knows what sex is; for some reason my mind gravitates to the slightly handwavey answer of "boy's dormitory." I'm picturing him in his four-poster, curtains drawn, pretending to be asleep, while Ron and Harry have a free-ranging, horrifically creative conversation about what Ron thinks sex is (courtesy of the twins). Optimistically, Neville hops in with corrections from Augusta Longbottom's sexual etiquette seminars. Either way, Draco never, ever reveals that he has heard this conversation.

Or, alternatively, he and Theo have a really intense heart-to-heart during that summer before third year, which would do a lot to explain why the two of them are so weird about each other basically for the rest of time. (Raising the question of where Theo/Pansy/Daphne learned it. At age 12, Pansy got an excruciatingly detailed Talk from her mother, who was scared to death of a teen pregnancy pitching their family into ruin; Pansy, deciding it was unfair she had to suffer this and Theo did not, inflicted said Talk on Theo, who was just relieved that he didn't have to ask Sibelius. And Daphne grew up around so many healers that she just badgered them until someone gave in and told her. She's also a stated connoisseur of trashy romance novels, so. Make of that what you will.)

I think that Hogwarts, being modeled in mores and general Vibe from old English boarding schools, probably is not the most forward-thinking with sex ed. I also do believe Severus Snape would sooner jump off a bridge, and I kind of need him for the plot, so I've got to spare him that grave and important duty. Poppy Pomfrey probably gets the question the most of any staff member, and over the years, I think she's honed her answer down to a tight 3 minute-monologue that covers all major topics.

Odds and ends in the same vein:

Hermione gets a sit-down with the Drs. Granger the summer before her thirteenth birthday, so sometime in August, 1992. It is meticulously explained and flawlessly presented, with color-coded diagrams, an index, and a syllabus. It includes a diagnostic chart for common STIs and a spreadsheet on birth control options. Dr. Granger gets excited after a tangent about ovarian cysts and runs to pull out her old copy of Grey's. Hermione spends the whole time fully miserable, wondering why parents couldn't be like, greengrocers or something. (That doesn't stop her from asking questions, obviously.)

Ron, like all Weasley men of his generation, gets a knock on his door sometime around his 14th birthday, and Arthur invites him to "go fishing." This is code for "stand by the river and try to keep a will to live while your dad explains the mechanics of sex, its importance, and the value of waiting until you feel comfortable and safe sharing that level of intimacy with a trusted partner" (sic).

Fred and George got separate talks, because Arthur wanted to emphasize that he sees them as individuals; however, Fred ran back and immediately recounted it all to George, who proceeded to feign extraordinary expertise in it the next morning, to his father's horror.

Ginny's "go fishing" equivalent is Molly taking her out for tea and delivering a well-meant but incoherent combination of abstinence-only sex ed, aggressive body positivity, and highly technical discussions of how to insert a diaphragm. Ginny, who bullied the real story out of Bill years ago, is baffled, and to this day can't say for sure what she was supposed to take away from it.

Harry spends his 14th birthday at the Burrow. Ron and his brothers make a blood pact in advance not to tell him about it, though, so when Arthur invites him out for the day on August 1st, his sole thought is: oh, nice! Can't wait for some fun fishing :)

#greenteacup asks

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cupofteainme · 2 months

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So many weird choises with the social media plot. It didn't work for me for three reasons.

First: It's stupid

The royal court left Simon and Wille completely alone to deal with the media. The court with a massive PR-team relies on the troubled 16-year-old prince to keep his boyfriend's social media behavior in check. Okay. I guess everyone in the court were busy trying to bring some life into Ludvig while Kristina was too sad and no-one thought to give her pills before episode six 🥲 (good thing that hearing how bad parent she is cured her depression)

I read a theory that leaving Wille to handle Simon's social media was intentional on the court's part to drive a wedge between Wille and Simon. It's a good theory if you believe in the evil monarchy (I guess Lisa does). I didn't see any indication about it in the show though. In episode 3 after Simon posts the First of May photo, Farima tells Wilhelm, "Talk to him. Or we will." This makes me think that it was Wilhelm and Simon in the first place who denied the court to have any contact with Simon. That I can believe at some level.

Simon would want his autonomy, but I don't understand his naivety concerning social media, especially since he recently was a victim of a grave online violation and got unwanted attention because of it. I assumed that he was already laying low in regards to social media after the sex video.

Wille was trying to talk to Simon about not posting with sensitivity and he apologises that Simon must do accomodations because of his Crown Prince status. Why didn't Simon listen at all?

Second: It doesn't fit the narrative

I have a hard time understanding why Simon felt so erased after deleting his social media. It was never established in YR universe that social media meant so much to Simon unlike in the case of Felice, for whom it played a big part in season one. She used it to create a version of herself that she felt other people wanted to see. In YR posting on social media has often been about conveying an image: Felice at the stables despite not wanting to ride, August posing at the gym while suffering from eating disorder. It didn't fit the show's use of social media that an authentic person like Simon would feel so sad about deleting his account.

I got the impression that Simon used little social media. It was implied that it was for example his first song that he posted (he got a comment that was surprised he could sing). So social media hadn't been an outlet where he commonly shared his creativity. Simon seemed to be sorry to delete pictures of people he saw all the time anyway, family and close friends. It's not good storytelling that we didn't see any foreshadowing about Simon's feelings towards social media earlier in the show.

Third: It breaks my heart

The part that actually makes me cry is that it was established in season one that Wille and Simon truly see each other despite their differences. Wille was the first one in Hillerska to treat Simon friendly and be interested in him and it made Simon feel special and seen. In the same way Simon saw Wilhelm as a person first rather than a prince. Isn't that a big part why we fell in love with their love? Isn't Wille the person that makes Simon feel seen and not strangers in his social media? 😭

There where so many things that created or could have created drama between them; the drugs, August, Micke, their different backgrounds, homophobia, classism. I don't think that Simon posting was a needed storyline in the show.

Sorry to be a complete romantic, but the way Simon looks at Wille from season one—I thought he'd happily toss his phone to the lake to finally be with this boy.

#I hate to have mixed feelings about season 3 #trying to make sense of them #young royals #young royals analysis #young royals social media plot #young royals season 3

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piebingo · 6 months

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Some more young royals fanfic recommendations for you to enjoy

What lies within | chaptered | completed | by museraphoria

Wilhelm is barely fifteen when he becomes the sole survivor of a tragedy that takes the lives of his entire family. Lost between guilt and grief, Wilhelm finds himself wielding powers he never asked for, and forced to give up his only chance at a normal life.

As he attempts to pick up the pieces of his former self, his best friend Simon remains by his side, more than willing to embark on this journey with him. While Wilhelm trains to wage war on crime and injustice, his feelings for Simon start to change, and he soon must choose between living a lie or risking to lose the person who matters the most to him.

or, the Wilmon!Superhero AU everyone deserved

I don’t think I had ever read a superhero AU before so this was fun! I loved the way the characters were written and it’s one I definitely need to reread.

Oh love, tell me we’re not tragic | chaptered | completed | by starrystoryteller

"You got to be fucking kidding me," He sighs, his mom sending him a pointed look at his choice of words. He tries to twist his features into an apologetic expression but it's a lost cause as his eyes stay glued to the image on the television. He narrows his sight in on the youngest of the princes, eyes catching on the badly covered scar just under his eye. The Crown's attempt at covering up his mistake is futile.

an enemies to fwb to lovers wilmon fic

This is like the definition of idiots in love, where you just want to smash them together and make them see sense. I loved it.

You’re the cutest Jailbird I ever did see | oneshot | completed | by pagegirlintraining and TheAmberFox / @pagegirlintraining @the-amber-fox

If you asked Simon and Wille, neither of them could tell you exactly how they ended up inside a cell at the Bjärstad police department for getting in a fight with August and his friends. The thing is, neither of them is mad that they ended up there together. Will our two favourite idiots figure out by themselves why they are ready to smack people for each other or will it take some princely meddling?

They are the absolute cutest in that fic, and there’s one thing I enjoyed very much. Anything by those two authors (both separately and as a duo) is amazing and this is no exception.

You are unbreaking | chaptered | completed | by unfortunate17 / @unfortunate17

The dagger at Simon’s hip weighs more than it had when he’d first strapped it to himself this morning.

Wille gentles an arm around his shoulders, pointing out exotic birds and plants, explaining their respective habitats, their food habits. The vulnerable skin of his throat is unguarded, the tender flesh near his heart covered only by thin, white cotton. It would be quick, Simon promises himself, painless even. Wilhelm need not unnecessarily suffer.

“– back inside?”

Simon blinks up at him.

Wille’s shading his eyes, brows knitted together in faint concern as he looks down at him.

Simon feels himself flush. “Sorry, I missed what you said.”

Or, Wille is the second born son of Queen Kristina. Simon is the fool who marries him with the goal of assassinating him and bringing an end to the tyrannical monarchy. It doesn't go according to plan.

I was on the edge of my seat with this one. I love this kind of more medieval setting and the premise of that one?? Simon being there to assassinate Wille? Sign me UP. You won’t be disappointed.

I love the way you lie | chaptered | completed | by itsme_hi_imtheproblem / @iwouldnevergetintofanfic

Prince Wilhelm can't seem to catch a break. When he is pulled into yet another scandal through no fault of his own, he is desperate enough to try one last thing to salvage his image: A publicly staged fake relationship.

Simon Eriksson is a struggling young artist, trying to make a name for himself and tired of the obstacles he faces on his way into the music industry. He'll take any publicity at this point.

A pact is made. Strictly business.

What could possibly go wrong?

When done right (for my taste ofc, there’s no real right or wrong way in creativity and art!!), I love a good fake relationship. And this one is done super right imo. Erik is alive, and wilmon is full of feelings and I was too when reading.

You don’t have to hurt anymore | chaptered | completed | by wilmonxoxo

Running from his mother and her unattainable expectations, Wilhelm finds solace at his brother’s house in Bjärstad. It was there he found a sense of belonging, a sense of hope, that, maybe one day, he too could be brave like Erik and leave his tumultuous household.

It only took one night for the boy next door to catch his eye. The boy who lived in the house where screaming and fighting seemed to be a constant, who shooed away help like his life depended on it but seemed to crave it so deeply in his soft brown eyes.

“I just wanna be friends with you. Everyone needs a friend.”

"Bullshit.”

Because since the first night they met, Simon saw the way Wilhelm looked at him. It was the way this whole fucking town looked at him but worse. Like he was broken, weak, someone who needed to be saved by the cute, privileged boy next door even though he’d been protecting his family for as long as he could remember - even the one who was destroying them.

"Why do you say that?”

“Because I see the way you look at me, Wille."

Because I think I might look at you the same way and I don’t just wanna be friends with you, either.

This one was very interesting to read and pretty angsty (at least to me, I don’t read much heavy angst). I loved how important of a role Erik had too. Very interesting dynamics.

Other recs: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

#yr fanfic rec list #young royals #queue

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writesforfun · 11 months

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childhood friends, a Mark Lee Fiction.

angst, fluff, mark is sooo mark-coded here(?), you and mark are friends since birth, neighbor mark, 2k words

Being Mark Lee's bestfriend at the mere age of 0 was a blessing— some people would say now.

He's handsome, that you admit. He's been this guy that's just popular for no reason at all. He's handsome, good in everything he sets his mind at, and don't forget the fact that Mark, although shy and doesn't really have that much of a close friend, is just simply very kind to everyone he meets.

You thought you would lose him when you two were in elementary and middle school— cause he was that popular. Everyone wanted to play and be friends with him, and you thought he would forget you. Which Mark definetely prooved it to be nonsense, cause he sat and stayed with you every day without failure. When you asked why, Mark just simply shrugged it off by saying, "What do you mean why? We're friends!"

So here you are. Both of you are grown-ups, you will be turning 24 at December and Mark had already hit that age in August.

It's now September.

"Y/N! What you thinking?" He holds your hand tight, smiling— nah, come to think of it, he didn't smile. It's a grin. The Mark Lee™ signature grin.

You come to your senses. Today, you're gonna go to an ice cream shop with Mark and then you two are gonna make some popcorn and watch movies at your house.

"Sorry. I was thinking of us during elementary school."

He puts on a shock expression. "Daaaaamn dude. That was such a looong time agooooo!"

You laugh and shake your head, grabbing his hands so that you can pull him to his Tesla so that he would start driving.

"What? Yo I'm serious! When you said that I felt it in my stomach that like.. yooo that was a long ass time ago," He said. You ruffle his hair, ignoring his sound of protest. "You're saying things that doesn't need any further explanations. As a friend, I'm helping you so that both of us wouldn't waste time and hurry up."

Mark rolled his eyes with a smile on his face, opening up his car door for you first and then for him. You felt your heart skip four beats or something and then ignore them for the nth time.

Don't care about your feelings, Y/N. You said to yourself. Yes, you do have an immense crush— no, no. Yes, you do love him since middle school, but that doesn't matter. What matters the most is your friendship. And you would never want to ruin that.

Seeing Mark spend Valentine's Day with someone else at college hurted you like crazy. He always used to spend it together with you, but at college, he spent it with his now ex-girlfriend. They broke up after a year of dating, and a year of your suffering basically. You try to distance yourself then, but Mark just quite simply won't accept distancing as friendship. He visited your house basically everytime, and he picks you up although you gotta third wheel him and his girlfriend.

There was no drama between you and his ex though. His ex have always been nice, and you two still talk via DM sometimes. You know, replying stories and stuff.

"Y/N! I was asking a question, dude," He said, putting his hand your thighs and squeezing them gently. Things he did as a simple caring gesture since you know him.

"Sorry. I was thinking of my homework. What did you ask?" You lied, gritting your teeth before looking at his gawkingly handsome face. You just wanna kiss that smile off his— nevermind.

"I was thinking, maybe instead of rewatching Mean Girls we could just watch Doctor Strange? I've been dying to watch the Multiverse of Madness thingy, I haven't watch that."

You nod. "I haven't too. We're so lame! That's a disrespect to Marvel,"

He laughs, turning the bluetooth volume to a solid 38, making you both hear Taylor Swift's Labyrinth clearly. The bluetooth is connected to your phone, and Taylor Swift is your favorite singer. You introduce her to Mark and he basically just listen to it with you like the good person he is. You brag to Karina and Ningning all the time that he's a trained Swiftie.

But this song.. this song, you relate to a lot. It's about a realization of being in love, and considering your situation, you relate to it a lot.

You don't really believe in good man and love until you realize you love him. Your dad.. he failed to set example of a man when your family caught him cheating during your elementary school years and even going as far as marriage with the person he's cheating with. Your mom forgived him and they're still together— but the trauma you went through was unexplainable. Since then, your relationship with your dad has been different. His voice sounds annoying as hell and every thing he do, you nitpick and hate. Mark has always been there for you though, he even spent all his savings during elementary school to buy you new toys and ice cream.

You know and believe that Mark is a good guy. Every thing he does have always been positive and his mind never fails to make you fascinated.

"Oh God, why are the Halloween decorations have already been put up?" You ask when you both arrive at the ice cream shop you always go together with. It's a 17 minute drive from both of your house, which is in front of each other.

"Better late than never, Y/N. Let's go," He says, opening his door before opening up yours and opening the door for you.

He ordered a watermelon and vanilla ice cream, which you hated and teased him with since forever. You think that's a weird combination and his love for watermelon should never be brought to an ice cream flavor. You ordered a Lotus Biscoff ice cream, and he have a lot of protests for that as well but whatever. Biscoff for life.

"Do you wanna eat it here or in the car?" He ask. "I don't know. How are you gonna eat it if we're gonna eat in the car?" You ask him again instead of answering his question.

"You can just feed me, I guess." He answers nonchalantly, like it's something normal in a friendship. The blur of lines are making you wanna die, and sometimes you just think to yourself whether or not distancing yourself from Mark is a better option.

"Alright then. Let's eat in the car, whatever," You say. As much as you hate to admit it, you wouldn't really pass on feeding him. Both of you had feed each other since middle school anyway.

Coming home from watching Doctor Strange with Mark, you realize that your feelings for Mark is just growing bigger every day, and you finally decide that you can't do this anymore.

Come on, Mark Lee simply would never look at you more than friends, right?

So you decide to ignore his presence. You ignore all his texts, and even when Mark came to your house and ask for your presence, you had already ask your Mom who knows your crush towards him to tell him that you're not in the house.

You usually go to your work place with Mark cause you and him work only 2,4km away from each other. So whenever he picks you up, you were already gone. It's for the best. You miss him a lot but you realize you'd rather lose him now than losing him to a girl he'll marry later. You can't imagine being her bridesmaid and be happy for them though you're dying.

His nth phone call of the day you ignore without failure today as well. It's been a month of ignoring him and you're kind of used to the feeling of a scratch in your heart whenever you hear his dissapointed and sad voice downstairs. Your phone vibrates, and you see his third message for you today.

markie 🐆🦁

Y/N it's been a month. i don't know what i did to you but i know you're ignoring me. whats uppp? please answer me. please. i can't afford to lose you.

And there it is again. Your heart hurts like crazy. But whatever. Just sleep through it like always. It's for the best.

It's your first day of period today and you're hurting like crazy. Usually, Mark would be here to comfort you and massage you and all that stuff, but now, you actually think you're gonna spend your birthday tomorrow without him. For the first time ever in your life.

The day you were born, baby Mark had come with his lovely family to visit your family in the hospital. From his and your parents, you heard that you slept next to Mark and he hugged you both as you sleep. Baby Mark even caressed your hair with his small hands, and you have a video that captured that moment. You watched it again, smiling though your eyes are red and teary. You miss him. The thought of not having him around for your birthday hurt you.

You saw that there are no pads left and let out a long sigh. You put on your hat that Mark gave you as a birthday present and put on your slippers. You then go out your door and decided to buy some pads.

Usually, Mark would buy it for you but— ugh! Stop it with the Mark thing.

"Here's your order. Have a nice day," The lovely lady working the cashier register say to you. You smile through the pain you're going through, wanting to step out before a oh-so familiar voice register.

"Y/N?"

It's no doubt it's Mark Lee's voice. You can see through the side of your eye that he's currently looking right at you with his worried sad eye with his right hand holding a cola.

You don't know what to do. So you run through the door, ignoring Mark's shout of your name as he chases you. It's like the game of chase you two used to play back in elementary school. You cry, you really don't know why but you cry. Passing your house, you run to the park and decided to catch your breath by sitting at one of the slides. You and Mark used to play at that slide all the time until you both grew up.

You look everywhere, and close your eyes when Mark isn't in your sight anymore. You stay in that position for 3 minutes, and when you open your eyes. You almost jump from your seat as you see Mark squatting in front of you sitting in the slide with teary eyes.

"Why— why are you avoiding me?" His voice breaks as he turns away from you, and you can clearly see him wiping away his tears before looking at you with eyes that you swear can make anybody cry. So you become teary eyed as well.

"I'm not." You reply shortly, before standing up to go back to your house. He snorts out of disbelief. "Sit down, Y/N. We're not done talking and if this is the last— if this is— if this is the— if this is the last time we're talking, I don't want it to be an open ending."

You really can't believe that word. You want to just cry your eyes out for 100 years after hearing that word, so you sit down. You want closure as well.

"I know damn well that you're avoiding me. And I really don't know what I did to make you piss off like that. Heck, Y/N, I was jokingly strangling you as we watch Doctor Strange and we were laughing like crazy as well. At some point you even drank a portion of my iced americano. I don't know what I could've done to make you ignore me after all that fun. And I'm honestly so.. I don't know anymore. I'm so sad, Y/N. Mom said she never saw me cry this much. I can't even dare to say that you're ignoring me just because I don't believe that word. Just tell me why are you avoiding me? Am I not good enough as a friend? What am I lacking so much that you decide to ignore me? Why do you do all that while you're here looking as hurt as I am and—"

"BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!" There. You say it. You blurt it out loud. Whatever. You don't care anymore. You are in your most vulnerable and raw feeling and you don't even care anymore.

He closes his mouth. He looks at you with some expression you don't even know what it means. But you continue your words as tears flow from your eyes, "I love you, Mark. I love you since forever. I know you don't feel the same, so I'm taking a step back. I don't wanna be your friend anymore. I don't think I physically and mentally can. It's for the both of us. That way, whenever you have another girl it'll be easy for me, for you, and for your girlfriend. Just please let me be. I'm gonna go home. I don't want you to follow me. Let's just pretend we don't know each other and let me enjoy this heartbreak in peace for God's sake. Please just— please," You stop talking as tears and emotions just stream through your whole body.

"Y/N.." He says. And you just can't anymore. You walk away.

You walk for 11 seconds before his hands reaches you. You shout. You literally shout. You told him not to follow you anymore, what is he trying to do? Stop fixing a friendship that literally cannot be fixed anymore!

"STOP IT!" You screamed. You looked at his eyes with anger until you catch his sad, teary glares.

"Y/N, hear me out. Please?" He says. And after a few thoughts, you decides that he can have a few say in this situation.

"I love you too," He says, smiling through his tears as he hugs you. You're puzzled— standing there and doing nothing as he hugs you close, brushing your hair with his hand, kissing the top of your head as he takes a breath of your scent he missed.

"W-what?"

He laughed, eyes still in tears as he let go of the hug but still intertwining both your hands together. "I love you too. I loved you since elementary school or something like that. Then you had a crush for stupid Choi Hyunsuk in college and I found another girl in college. But even then I realise that my number one, my Mom excluded— has always been you. So then I love you again, up until this moment. You should've just communicated this and not cut me off. That's not nice, baby."

Baby.

The nickname rings through your head, all the way to your heart because it starts beating unrealistically fast.

"What?"

He laughs again. "Just... I love you. Do you maybe wanna be my girlfriend then?"

You never say yes so fast.

And there it was.

Your birthday.

"Are you really going to spend it without me this year?" He ask as you two eats your favorite cake; a Lotus Biscoff Cookie Cake.

"Yep. That was my plan, until.."

"Until?" He asks with a teeth-showing smile and one eyebrow up. "Well.. until this." You reply, kissing him as you hug him tight.

You can't believe it, but he's all yours.

author's note: HELLOOOO EVERYONEEE! TvT THANK YOU SOOO MUCH FOR READING!! Please do tell me your opinions and thought and whether or not you like a second part where it shows more of Mark and Y/N's relationship 🥺 have a good year wherever you are!! stay healthy and eat well peeps!

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tarotwithavi · 2 years

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🌞Pick a pile🌞 :

admirable things about you ✨

1. 2.

3. 4.

Short note : this is a general reading take what resonates and leave the rest. Take care of yourself because if you won't care for yourself no one will :)

Pile 1 ✨

Hello pile 1 ! First all happy birthday to you if your birthday falls in August. And I admire how strong you guys have been like you have been through alot. I see that till now you have been living 2 lives one for others and one for yourself. Inside your guys are shattered but on the out side you show yourself as a boss. You have been put on some expectations it's either from family or school and you've been working hard for that. Pile 1 you don't know how much respect I have for you guys. But even after all this you guys are nice and kind to others. You are not afraid to cut ties if things get out of hands. Someone here might have been through some sort of breakup. You have childlike energy. Your energy reminds other of their childhood. They get the feeling of nostalgia from you

Messages for you : there is a new beginning for love for guys. And I see y'all achieving your goal in the upcoming time.

*･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿( ͡°³ ͡°)　✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･•*

Pile 2🌟

Hey! Pile 2 , I see that you shine the brightest your energy makes people obsesses over you. Some here might be a pluto dominant. I see that you might attract energy vampires so please be careful of your energy and the people around you. You light Overshines those around you and this might make them jealous and envious of you. I see you suffering from insomnia or you might not get enough sleep due to work/study. You are full of abundance and new ideas. And you work on your ideas to make them reality. You are mentally strong and embody a bosslike energy. You are very passionate about what you do. And you might need to make an important decision. You might come off as a rude person sometimes. I'm sorry but you guys seem to gave a RBF lol

Message for you : don't let your past hold you back and you need to balance your spirituality and practicality.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ･ﾟﾟ:

Pile 3💫

Heloo pile 3 . The first message I got for this pile is that you are obsessed with the unknown and people admire that lol. People also admire that you can do anything and you're like the jack of all traits. You are nice to people but you would be the most dangerous enemy if someone ever provokes you. Some people have left you behind but now you don't need them. There was a time when you used to seek for their attention but not anymore. You can now do things in your own.people also admire that you are very protective of your family. You would not tolerate if anyone says anything bad about your family. And you're also mysterious. I just heard " I like to put things on fire" Lol idk take it how it resonates. I Also got that you have a foxy appearance and people love that.

Message for you : it's time for you to do after things you love And don't worry about anything luck is on your side.

*＊✿❀❀✿＊**＊✿❀❀✿＊**＊✿❀❀✿＊*

Pile 4🌙

Hello pile 4 , your admirable trait is that your are carefree. You don't care about anything. You sing your own song. You dance without music. But there are times when you get tensed about everything . You like to hang out with your friends and enjoy life to the fullest. However it's not like you just wake up and go out to have fun everyday. You're responsibile and care about your work too. You have a perfect balance between enjoying life and doing your work on time. People admire this trait of you. And also you are quite attractive too. You have a cute baby face that attracts a lot of people. You might have a sweet voice that people love to listen to.

Message for you : you need to look at the bigger picture and not care about small things that stress you. Show the world the real you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Hello everyone I hope you enjoyed this pick a card reading. Please don't forget to leave feedback.

#free tarot #tarot cards #tarot reading #tarot #oracle reading #pick a card #pick a picture #pick a pile #pick a photo #pac tarot #daily tarot #divination #free readings #tarotoftheday #tarotscope #taroteverydamnday #tarot and astrology #astrology

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footprintsinthesxnd · 2 months

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Chapter 4: ‘Picnics, Phartzac and Painful Goodbyes’

Gale Cleven × Hope Armstrong (ofc)

Series Masterlist

This story is based on on the fictional portrayal of these men from the MOTA to series.

Summary: When their plane is diverted to Thorpe Abbott airfield Hope and Ruth's lives change forever. These two brave nurses must face the trials and tribulations of war, as well as suffering the heartache that war inevitable brings with it.

Collab: A Pair of Silver Wings by @major-mads

Sunday, August 15th, 1943: AAF Grove, Berkshire: 2000 HRS

The constant ticking of the clock in the corner of the base supply closet was the only sound filling the air as the Angel of Death’s nurses tallied their bandages, morphine syrettes, and other supplies that needed refilling after their busy weeks in the air. Looking up from her clipboard, Ruth sighed, seeing Hope staring at the wall before her in a daze.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Ruth called quietly, already having an idea of who was on her friend’s mind.

Hope blinked a few times and looked over at the blonde with a half-hearted smile. “Gale…I miss him.”

“I know,” she sighed softly, brushing some of her hair behind her ear. “I miss Johnny, too. It’s been almost three weeks. I love his letters but-”

“It’s not the same,” Hope finished for her.

Before either of the women could continue a voice echoed through the almost empty building. “You girls in here?”

Frank.

“We’re in the back!”

His shoes clacked against the concrete floors as he made his way to the back storage room, sending the girls a half-grin when he stuck his head inside the door. If they were paying attention, they would have noticed the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“How’re you two holding up?”

Their eyes met briefly, silently communicating whether or not they would be truthful. Ruth’s pale blues decided the answer was no, and Hope’s gaze moved back to her clipboard.

“We’re fine,” she answered, reaching up to grab a bandage from the crate. “Just tired.”

Frank moved to lean his shoulder against the doorframe, holding his captain’s cap under his arm as he spoke gently. “Are you sure that’s all it is?”

He looked over at them with a worried expression as the ticking of the clock filled the room again, neither of them speaking up. “You would tell me if there was something wrong, right?”

Ruth’s stomach sank. “Of course,” she murmured, turning to mirror Hope, who had her back turned to the man while filling up supply boxes.

Frank sighed and ran a tired hand down his face. “How about you both call it a day, huh? Go get some chow and then relax. You’ve been going almost non-stop for weeks.”

Since their last visit to Thorpe Abbotts on July 31st, they’d spent almost every day in the air, transporting patients from Italy to Africa, sometimes spending the night in nurses' tents in the middle of the Tunisian desert. If they weren’t on a run, they were doing things around the base, constantly on the move in preparation for the worsening invasion of Sicily. The sheer volume of casualties was horrendous, and it seemed that the men got younger with each one they laid eyes on.

Carnage takes a toll…and not just on those fighting on the fronts with bullets flying around them.

“Come on,” Frank urged, throwing his cap back on. He walked over and pulled each of them under an arm, turning toward the closet door. “That’s an order.”

Hope raised an eyebrow at him, unable to keep a smirk off her lips. “What makes you think we’re gonna start listening to you now?”

This time that Frank smiled, it was genuine. “I am a Captain, after all, Lieutenants.”

He walked them to the main exit of the hut, released them from his hold, and opened the door for them. They each wore a grin, and he saw it as a win. “Now go eat up. I’ll make sure everything makes it on the Angel.”

As he lightly pushed the pair out the door, Ruth turned around. “There’s just one thing I need-”

“I got it, Ruth,” he interrupted. “I promise.”

Hope grabbed the blonde’s arm gently, pulling her out the door behind her. “Come on, Rue. I’m starving.”

Watching from the windows as the women made their way to the mess hall, Frank sighed. He had come in a few minutes before he announced himself, and had heard the girls’ conversation. Part of him felt guilty for eavesdropping on them, but another part of him was glad he overheard it. Out of the three of them, he was the only one who had the power to do anything about the situation.

It was no secret they reminded him of his younger sister Grace back home, and from the first time they met, the trio formed a close bond that was only deepened when they went up together for their first casualty evacuation. Frank’s heart ached to see the normally bubbly women so down, and he knew he had to do something about it.

Marching over to a nearby desk, Frank grasped the phone and held it up to his ear.

The operator’s voice crackled through the receiver. “Number please.”

“Norfolk, 7322, please,” he replied.

Thorpe Abbotts AAF Base, Norwich

“Good job today, boys,” Johnny praised, raising his glass toward the other crew in the Officer’s Club bar. “I heard you stayed tight in formation, just like we taught ‘ya.”

Earlier in the day, select crews of the 100th had taken part in a mission targeting aircraft factories in Merville and Lille, both in occupied France. The mission was a success, and the ‘Bloody Hundredth’ defied its nickname by bringing all its forts home safely.

“It wasn’t your aftershave, Buck, but I still stayed close enough,” Claytor called from across the bar where he sat with the rest of Alice From Dallas’ crew.

Buck grinned, taking a sip of his ginger beer. “I’d expect nothing less, Roy.”

A familiar trumpet solo echoing through the hall stole Johnny’s attention, and his eyes rose from his almost empty glass to the dance floor, his mind taking him back to the last time he heard Artie Shaw’s Star Dust…

when he had danced with Ruth and held her so close.

Gale’s hand on his shoulder, breaking him from his memory, his heart beating loudly in his chest just as it had been that night.

“John,” Gale said with a raised eyebrow. “Did you hear me?”

Egan nodded and pursed his lips, running a hand over his mustache briefly. “Yeah,” he rasped.

“What did I say?”

Pulling out his signature raised eyebrow grin, Johnny reached up and tapped Gale’s cheek. “That I’m the best pilot in the 100th…and I have to say that I agree with ‘ya.”

Buck just rolled his eyes and shook his head at the man. “That’s definitely not what I said.”

Drinking the rest of his pint, John raised a few fingers at the bartender, who slid a full one over to him.

“Then what did you say, Buck?” he asked, quickly gulping down half of the new glass. The major had already had a few shots earlier in the night, and he was starting to feel the familiar buzz. His cheeks were flushed from the alcohol and warmth coursed through his veins.

“It doesn’t matter,” Gale huffed, sipping his drink. “What were you dazed off thinking about? A certain blonde, perhaps?”

Bucky shifted his position against the bartop to face him and nodded once with a shrug. “Maybe,” he paused, his smirk falling to a frown as he swirled the amber liquid in his glass. “I miss her.”

Out of all the things that Gale Cleven thought would come out of his friend’s mouth, the words “I miss her” were not what he expected. Sure, he knew John liked Ruth, and Hope had even told him that Ruth liked him back, but hearing it from his mouth made it real. The longing in his voice surprised the Major. In the three years the two knew each other, he couldn’t recall the older man ever speaking about a woman in such a tender way.

“Me too,” Buck replied softly, his own heart aching to see Hope.

“You too, huh?” Johnny quipped, a mischievous glint in his eye as he leaned closer to Gale. “Well, last I checked, Hope’s the one you should be missin’. Ruth’s my girl, remember?”

Buck rolled his eyes, a chuckle escaping his lips despite doing everything to hold it in. “Yeah, yeah,” he groaned, his tone tinged with amusement. “You’re hopeless, you know that?”

“Hopeless romantic, you mean.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of hopelessly stupid.”

Johnny feigned offence and placed a hand over his heart. “Come on now, what’s life without a little excitement, right?”

“Speak for yourself, Johnny boy,” Buck replied, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “Some of us prefer a quieter existence.”

“Where’s the fun in that? Life’s too short to play it safe.”

Gale shook his head, scoffing playfully under his breath and bringing his glass to his lips. “Hopeless.”

John’s grin widened as he glanced over at him, raising his eyebrows expectantly. “You’re the only Hope-less one here.”

Buck froze with his glass on his lips for a moment until he turned to Johnny with a confused and somewhat incredulous expression. “That was terrible, Bucky.”

“What? It’s funny. I thought it was pretty clever,” John insisted, chuckling to himself.

Gale just shook his head, using all his willpower to remain stoic. “Not really.”

Undeterred, John persisted, tilting his head toward Buck. “Come on, it’s a little funny.”

Finally, Cleven’s facade fell, and a tiny smile quirked his lips. “Okay, maybe just a little,” he conceded.

“See, I told you-”

The thump of a phone being placed on the counter in front of them cut him off, and both men looked up confused, their serious moment broken. Kidd held the receiver up to his ear. “Operator, I’ve got Major Cleven here.”

“Why do we keep getting calls at the bar?” John asked loudly as Jack handed Buck the phone, and Cleven shot him a “shut up” glare.

“Hello.”

“Is this Major Cleven?” the voice asked.

“It is,” Buck replied, looking over at Johnny skeptically. The other major then leaned close to hear the conversation. “May I ask who’s calling?”

“This is Frank Martin. The girls’ pilot.”

At the mention of the nurses, all amusement fell from their faces and they shared a worried glance. John suddenly felt sick to his stomach, and every ‘what if’ ran through Gale’s mind.

Why would he be calling?

Readjusting the earpiece, Buck cleared the emotion from his throat. “Are…are the girls okay?”

“Sorry, Major. Don’t worry, they’re alright,” he winced, able to hear the concern in the other man’s voice. “I’m just calling because they need a pick-me-up, and I was wondering if I could bring them by the base tomorrow-”

While Buck let out a relieved breath, John’s face lit up and he grabbed the phone from Gale’s ear, unable to contain his excitement. “Yes!” he shouted into the phone, causing all eyes to turn towards the bar. When they realized it was just Bucky being Bucky, they all went back to their conversations. “Maybe you’re not so bad after all, Frank!”

“What is wrong with you?” Buck hissed, snatching the phone back from him.

How Ruth calmed the man and riled him up at the same time, Buck would never understand.

Kidd shot him a look that mirrored Buck’s question and John shrugged. “It’s not my fault you’re so lonely, Jack,” he smirked, talking louder to be heard over the music. “I get to see my girl! You should be happy for me! I was just talk-”

“Will you shut the hell up, Bucky?!” Gale snapped as he held the phone back up to his ear. His eyes narrowed, remaining on Johnny as he spoke. “Sorry, Frank. Major Egan’s had a little too much to drink tonight.”

On the other side of the line in Berkshire, Frank was more than confused at how the loud, boisterous man could ever be with someone like Ruth. “I can tell.”

“We’d love to see the girls tomorrow. What time do you think you’ll be here?”

The Captain scratched his 5 o’clock shadow, calculating the drive time in his mind. “Around 1 in the afternoon, probably. If everything goes to plan, that is.”

“Thank you for doing this, Frank. We owe you big time.”

“Of course. Don’t tell ‘em I told you this,” he sighed, ”But they need a break, even if it’s just for a few hours. And as much as I hate to admit it, they miss you both like crazy…I just want to see ‘em happy.”

Gale’s heart sped up in his chest, and he looked over at Bucky who was staring off at the dance floor yet again, a soft grin on his lips. “Yeah, we know the feeling. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See ya.”

The call ended with a click, and John threw his arm over Buck’s shoulder, shaking him lightly. “I had a feeling tomorrow was gonna be a good day!”

Curt then appeared next to them, leaning on the bar top. “So I hear your nurses are coming into town tomorrow?”

“Don’t you go getting any ideas, now,” John grinned down at him, his mind starting to fall back under the influence after his moment of clarity. He reached down and picked up his pint, about to gulp the rest down when he had a sudden thought.

‘What are you doing?’ his mind screamed at him. ‘You can’t be hungover.’

Placing the pint back onto the bartop, he pushed it away from him, motioning for the bartender. “Can I -uh- get a water, please?”

Curt, Buck, and Jack all shared confused glances, and Kidd was the one to speak up. “I didn’t even know you drank water.”

“There’s a first time for everything, Jack,” John replied, chugging the glass, a few droplets falling from his chin to his dress jacket. “I don’t think Ruth would appreciate me being hungover tomorrow.”

Jack scoffed lightly, his brow raised skepticaly at him. “Who are you and what have you done with John Egan?”

It was the thought running through all their minds. Out of the three of them, he knew the least about Ruth’s effect on John, Curt and Buck having witnessed it themselves over the past few weeks.

“It looks like Ruth has done in a little over a month what women have tried for 27 years.” Biddick grinned, throwing his arm around the major.

With a chuckle, Johnny lowered his glass and looked up at his friend. “And what is that?”

“She’s tamed you.”

Egan’s brows shot up in surprise, and Buck laughed loudly from beside him, covering his mouth with his hand to muffle the sound. “I wouldn’t say that, Curt,” he retorted. “Tamed is a strong word. Maybe more like watered down.”

John shrugged, pursing his lips. “Whatever. All I know is that Hope seems to have the opposite effect on you, Buck.”

“Oh no. Here we go again,” Gale groaned and ran a hand down his face. “Please don’t-”

Bucky grinned, pointing past the major to Kidd. “Jack, have you heard the story?”

“I have not.”

“So it’s the night of the dance. Ruth and I were dancing, right? We’re having a great time and then here comes Charlie…”

Frank watched as the Major left the base, waving goodbye to the few officers that remained to keep everyone in line. He only had a few short hours to get his plane to work and everything had to go exactly as planned.

He’d already spoken to the officer in charge who agreed to let Hope and Ruth have a day off after their weeks of endless work and seeing that there records showed they had the most men evacuated back to England in stable conditions, agreed that it was only fair. He had their passes tucked neatly away in his flight jacket, not trusting the girls not to misplace them in the meantime.

The Austin was parked around the back of the officers barracks. The car was in pristine condition and was the Majors pride and joy. Luckily with the Major off base everyone would assume he’d taken his car with him so it’s absence wouldn’t be missed.

All Frank had to do was get it from the officers barracks and park it around the back in the store room by the C47’s overnight. The officers, he’d found out, had a meeting that morning and it was his best chance to ensure their barracks were empty.

Walking down the narrow, wooden path between the barracks, Frank checked over his shoulder repeatedly. He hadn’t felt this crafty since he’d been playing tricks on his younger sister all those years ago.

The car was parked exactly where it should be. Blue bodywork gleaming beautifully, silver-coloured wheels polished and the hoods fitted over the lights to fit with blackout regulations. The keys, as always, were in the glove compartment and Frank thanked his lucky stars that everything was going just right.

Pushing them into the ignition, the engine roared to life in all its glory and Frank couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride sitting behind the wheel of such a fine vehicle.

He drove the car quickly out onto the road and down towards where the planes were taxied, pulling off the main road through the base and cutting down the empty runway. There was something exhilarating about driving at 60 in a car like this and Frank felt a little flourish of the boy of his youth living out a childhood dream.

Pulling the car up into the store room, he ignored the looks of the ground crew Sergeant, who quickly dismissed whatever Frank was doing and continued his way across base.

He pulled a large sheet over the Austin, covering it from prying eyes before locking the store room door and walking away, whistling a little tune to himself as he went.

He wasn’t sure how his plane had worked so flawlessly but he’d thank God in his nightly prayers that it had. He had the passes, he had the car, now all he needed to do was tell the girls.

The Next Morning: Monday, August 16, 0900 HRS

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Frank stood outside hut number four in the chilly morning air, banging his fist against the tiny covered window between Hope and Ruth’s beds. “Wake up, sleeping beauties! I’ve got some good news for ya!”

Stirring from her sleep, Hope became vaguely aware of her surroundings. Ruth was sleeping to her right, curled in on herself under the covers as she whimpered and mumbled incoherently, turning over onto her back.

“Is’ alrigh’” the blonde muttered, her brows furrowed.

Hope peeled back her blanket, ready to wake up her dreaming friend, but two more loud knocks beat her to it. The sound woke Ruth with a start, and her eyes shot open, frantically scanning the hut as her chest heaved. After a few moments, she seemed to get her bearings and looked over at Hope with a hand on her forehead.

“You okay?” Hope asked carefully.

Ruth nodded stiffly, brushing some stray hairs from her forehead. “Yeah. Just a bad dream.”

“I’m here if you want to talk about it.”

“I know.”

Frank’s voice came through the thin walls again, and Hope rolled her eyes. “I’ve got a surprise for you two! Come out here!”

“I think he’s full of it,” Ruth chimed, sitting up against the wall. “Why does he keep waking us up like this?”

“Probably because it’s the most annoying. It’s what Hugh would do.”

“Yeah. Sounds about ri-”

BANG. BANG.

“I can hear you in there!” Frank shouted, his lips almost against the window as he got as close as humanly possible to them from the outside. “Come out here! Really! I have something important to tell you!”

The duo shared an annoyed glance and slowly made their way to the door. “This better be good, Frank!” Hope groaned as she pulled it open. Just like the last time he had woken them up with a few sharp knocks and some yelling, they were the only ones in the hut. Most of the other nurses were out on missions or doing work abound base.

Grinning from ear to ear, Frank sauntered from their window to the door. “Morning.”

“Cut the crap,” Hope retorted with an eye roll. “What’s this super important thing we need to know?”

The man broke out in chuckles at her direct attitude and readjusted his crusher cap atop his head, his lips pulling into a slight grimace. “So I heard you two talking in the supply room last night about the guys-”

“What?” Ruth gasped, sticking her head out from the doorframe to glare at him, her brows furrowed.

“You sneaky, son of a-”

He threw his hands up in surrender. “Hold on. Let me finish before you kill me, alright?”

Though they were still glaring up at him, the women nodded slowly, and he took a deep breath. “Because I hate to see you both upset, I worked it out for us to have the day off.”

Frank’s eyebrows raised expectantly, waiting for them to catch on to what he was saying, but all he was met with was confusion. “Thanks for that, Frank, but how is that “super” important?” Hope asked, tilting her head at him quizzically.

“I got us a car,” he added, his grin widening as his eyes widened in anticipation.

Ruth looked even more confused. “I’m not following.”

“Oh for crying out loud!” the captain grumbled, slapping his palm across his face as he shook his head. “Ruth’s a blonde, so she has an excuse, but Hope, you ought to have caught on already.”

Ruth’s jaw dropped and she barely concealed an incredulous grin. “Hey!” she defended.

Removing his cap, Frank ran a hand through his sandy brown hair. “I’m taking you to Thorpe Abbotts for Pete’s sake!”

Hope and Ruth stood silent for a moment as each of their minds came to the realization of what that meant. He watched on as their confused expressions faded into pure joy and their eyes lit up, huge grins painting their lips.

Frank couldn’t help but smile, his heart warming at the sight before him. “Don’t thank me all at onc-”

Their bodies colliding into his cut him short, and his senses were filled with unintelligible squealing as they hugged him tightly.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Now, this does not mean you have my blessing, alright?” he remarked as they released him from their death grip. “I just hate seein’ you two so miserable.”

“When are we leaving?”

Peering down at his watch, Frank smirked. “An hour.”

The nurses’ faces turned from glee to horror at his words, and within a split second, they ran back into the hut, slamming the door behind them as they frantically got ready.

THORPE ABBOTTS AAF BASE, NORWICH: 1257 HRS

By the time the car rumbled to Thorpe Abbotts’ MP gate, it was 12:57.

‘Perfect timing,’ Frank thought as he glanced in the rearview mirror at the girls who were running their fingers through their styled hair with excited grins.

The MP approached the car, a friendly smile on his face. “How are ya’?

“Good, sir,” Frank nodded. Captain Martin. We’re here to see-”

“You’re good to go, Captain. Major Egan said to keep an eye out for you,” the man interrupted, nodding for him to go on. “Tell Bucky he owes me one!”

“Will do.”

At the mention of John, Ruth perked up even more in her seat. She had thought about seeing him again from the moment they had last said goodnight, her mind reminding her of the warm and giddy feeling that coursed through her body in his presence.

Hope reached over and squeezed her hand tightly as she spoke. “I’m so excited.”

“Me too. I can’t wait to see him!”

Frank listened in from the front seat, his brotherly protective instincts kicking in. “Hope, you taught Ruth your right hook, right?”

“I tried to,” she chuckled, raising an eyebrow at her friend. “She knows the basics.”

“Go for the crotch, Ruth,” the man advised, nodding at her in the rearview. “It's our weakness, okay?”

She rolled her eyes and chuckled under her breath, her gaze turning to stare at the window at the passing concrete buildings. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

His attention turned to the other nurse. “And do you still have what I gave you last time?”

Hope’s face instantly heated up as she glared at him.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Be smart.”

They rolled to a stop in front of the main building, and both Hope and Ruth’s stomachs were swirling with nervousness and excitement. The duo shared one last hopeful glance and exited the car.

Hope could hear John’s voice from the other side of the car but she couldn’t concentrate on anything as she scanned the surrounding area. She was soon met with a very smiley Gale, who waved at her from where he was standing on the grass. Hope could make out the large, fluffy dog in front of him that she could only assume was the infamous Meatball.

“Gale,” she called as she finally reached them. Gale didn’t even speak but instead engulfed Hope in a warm and comforting hug. He smelt strongly of his cologne and Hope instantly felt at ease.

“Damn, I’ve missed you,” Gale whispered into Hope’s neck, kissing her cheek lightly before Hope pressed her lips firmly to his. Gale was a little taken aback but soon kissed her in return, his hand winding into her hair and disturbing her neat curls but Hope didn’t care. It felt so good to be back in his arms.

A small whine caused the couple to break apart and Hope laughed as Meatball nudged his ball towards her. “You must be meatball,” Hope crouched down, ruffling his fluffy mane.

“He sure is,” Gale squatted beside her, stroking the dog affectionately.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Meatball,” Hope laughed as the husky nuzzled into her palm. “You’re a sweet boy.”

Footsteps behind them caused the pair to turn, meeting a very smiley Ruth who instantly dove down to greet Meatball, chatting animatedly with the dog.

Hope couldn’t help but grin as she watched John’s gaze follow Ruth and a look of pure adoration spread across his face. She stepped over to him, greeting John with a small hug.

“It’s good to see you again, John.”

“Good to see you too, Hope. How have ya been keeping?”

Hope shrugged, “Not too bad. Glad to finally have a day off. It’s been a tough few weeks.” Hope tried not to dampen the mood but both she and Ruth had been struggling, mentally and physically with the trials of their demanding job. John just nodded and Hope, noticing that Ruth was still occupied with Meatball, decided to offer John some advice.

“Ruth isn’t just another one of your floozy’s, John. She’s a special girl so you better treat her right, otherwise you’ll have Frank and I to deal with. I’ve met your kind before and the poor guy didn’t take too kindly to me punching him in the face, so don’t say I didn’t warn you. Is that clear?” She raised her eyebrows waiting for his response, amused as John smirked, scratching the back of his neck,

“Crystal, Lieutenant. I ain’t gonna cause any trouble. I really like Ruth, she’s a great girl and I’m not just planning on messing around with her.”

Hope seemed satisfied with his answer, giving him a small nod before moving back to Gale’s side. John let out a small breath he’d been holding. He’d heard about this other unfortunate guy from Hugh and he didn’t fancy meeting Hope’s right hook.

“So what are you two’s plans for the next…” Buck checked his watch. “Four hours?”

“Uhhh about that,” John smiled cheekily at his friend, snapping his fingers and pointing to him. “I’m borrowing your bike back for the afternoon.”

“What do you mean, ‘borrowing it back?’” Gale asked with furrowed brows.

“Well, Ruthie and I can’t walk all the way to Dickleburgh, and there were no jeeps...so, bikes it is.”

The girls were barely containing their snickers at the way the Majors often went at it like an old married couple.

Buck’s hands moved to his hips. “And what if Hope and I are going off base?”

“Come on, Buck,” Johnny groaned, mirroring his stance. “I know you weren’t planning to, were you?”

The younger man just glared at him with narrowed eyes. “No, but-”

Taking the confession as a win, John threw an arm over Ruth’s shoulders and pulled her against his side. “Thanks, Buck,” he hollered as he turned them toward the two bikes lying among the grass. “See you two later! Have fun!”

Ruth sent a small wave to Hope, which she returned, watching as her friend disappeared.

“Well it looks like I have you all to myself this afternoon then,” Gale smiled cheekily and Hope couldn’t help the little blush that crawled across her cheeks. “Was there something you wanted to do?”

‘You,’ Hope felt like saying but stopped herself, acutely aware of the condoms still stuffed in her handbag that she’d forgotten to remove from the dance. How did this keep happening to her?

“Well, I thought maybe you could show me some of this Suffolk countryside we are surrounded by. Maybe we could take Meatball for a walk, I’m sure he’d appreciate it, wouldn’t ya boy?”

The big husky looked up at her from his spot on the grass, panting in the warm summer sun. Gale smiled, ruffling the fur on the dog's head.

“There’s a little stream not too far from here, I’m sure you’d appreciate a cool-off, huh buddy?” The dog let out a small woof in agreement. “Well, there’s your answer.”

Gale stood back up, linking his arm through Hope’s and pressing his lips quickly to her forehead, “Shall we?”

“Lead the way, Major.

The pair began their walk down the narrow hedged lane, Gale’s hand quickly finding Hope’s and their fingers intertwined easily as if they had been doing it all their lives. Hope couldn’t help the way her heart lurched at Gale’s touch, the way his skin so softly brushed against her own.

Meatball ran out ahead of them, frolicking in the long grass, bouncing up and down and he howled happily.

“I swear I hear his howling in my sleep sometimes,” Gale muttered under his breath, causing Hope to chuckle.

“He’s just having fun,” she giggled, amused by Gale’s deadpan expression and his wrinkled forehead. “He’s a sweet dog really.”

Gale nodded, “He is a good dog, I’ll give him that.” There was something so natural about walking the dog through the lush, East Anglian countryside that gave Hope the impression that she was in a novel. A woman and the man she loved walking their dog on a sunny, summer afternoon would make a good first line to a book. If she thought hard enough, she could imagine the quaint little cottage they lived in and their three beautiful children playing in the garden.

“Hey Hope, are you alright?” Gale had stopped beside her, his eyebrows creased together, as his hands found their home on her hips.

“Yes, yes quite alright,” Hope blushed, shaking off the daydream, her mind still fuzzy with the images of Gale cradling their son. He’d make a good father.

Gale smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, “Good. You’re cute when you smile,” he spoke casually, almost absentmindedly as he began to walk away, but Hope’s blush grew ever deeper at the comment.

Stumbling to keep up, Hope linked her hand back through Gale’s and he squeezed it lightly. “Has Hugh been giving you any more trouble?” She asked, resting her head against his shoulder.

Gale grinned, “Not too much actually, John’s normally the one giving me a hard time. I think Hugh and I are actually on the same page now.”

“I’m pleased,” Hope smiled, watching as Meatball came tearing back towards them, his large pink tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. “At least things won’t be awkward at Thanksgiving now.”

The pathway drove its way across the hillside and down into a valley. Hope wasn’t sure how long they had been walking but Gale stopped beside a small rocky stream, where Meatball was already fully submerged, his long legs splashing through the shallows. Gale fell into the long grass, pulling Hope down beside him.

“How did you find this place? It’s beautiful,” Hope whispered, watching as the transparent waves lapped calmly at the river bank.

“I don’t really know,” Gale admitted sheepishly, “I was just walking one day and got myself a little lost and I stumbled upon it. Spent a good few hours here before trying to find my way back to base.”

There was something about the way that Gale spoke that caused Hope to relax, laying down in the grass and closing her eyes against the bright, summer sunshine. If only they could spend every day like this. Hope felt Gale lay beside her and she snuggled into his side, breathing in the intense smell of his aftershave. She had to admit, he was the best-smelling pilot she’d ever met, but there wasn’t much competition really, Frank always smelt of engine oil.

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” she whispered, turning her head to look at Gale and meeting his blue eyes, already watching her intently.

“Met too,” he leant forward to press his lips to hers and she smiled into the kiss. This was the most perfect moment and Hope wondered that if they stayed here forever they might be able to avoid the war entirely, living out their days in this little slice of heaven.

Their peaceful dream came to an abrupt end when a very wet, hairy lump landed on Gale’s chest, winding him as he shouted out.

“MEATBALL NO! BAD DOG!” The husky seemed oblivious to his intrusion and carried on his assault, licking Gale’s face aggressively despite Gale’s protests.

Hope giggled, watching the grown man try and fight off the loveable husky. “And you said I was the only love in your life,” she joked when Gale managed to wriggle free from Meatball, who soon found an interesting stick floating down the river and bounded off after it.

Gale didn’t look amused, his blonde locks plastered to his forehead and his white shirt sticking to his frame. Hope blushed at the sight, trying to avoid looking at his muscular frame through the thin, transparent material.

His eyebrows creased as he looked at her, “I’m sorry. Today was meant to be perfect. You’ve been working so hard and I…” Gale was soon silenced by a firm but gentle kiss, “and I…” and another one. He soon got the message and wrapped his arms around Hope’s frame, pulling her down onto his as she giggled.

“Why are you so perfect, Hope Armstrong? If I could, I'd marry you right here and now.” Hope froze above him but Gale continued to kiss her until he noticed she was no longer kissing him back. He gulped, looking up at her worriedly, “Did I say too much? I’m so sorry Hope, I…”

“No, no it’s not that, Gale,” she assured him, smiling softly, “Do you mean that?”

“Of course I do, Hope,” Gale shuffled so he was sitting up, Hope still firmly planted in his lap. “I really like you, Hope and when all this is over, if you’ll have me I like to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Hope smiled broadly, “I’d like that very much.”

“Then we’ve made ourselves a promise. To come back to each other,” Gale grinned, kissing Hope once more.

“A promise,” Hope whispered, kissing him once more. Gale lay back down, his head resting against Hope’s chest as her fingers wove their way through his hair.

“Hope,” he mumbled and Hope just hummed in reply. “Well, you sing for me?”

“Sing for you?” Hope laughed, “Like sing you a song?”

“Yes. Your voice was so beautiful the other night. I’d love to hear you sing again.” Hope pondered for a moment before nodding in agreement.

“Did you have a song in mind?” She cocked her head to look at him but Gale just shook his head.

“Anything that Bucky won’t have sung and ruined.” The pair chuckled, remembering vividly John’s singing from the other night.

“Okay. Well, I know for a fact he won't have sung this one to you,” Hope pushed herself up and Gale followed suit, resting his back against a tree. He picked a strand of grass and twirled it back and forth between his fingers as he glanced over at her.

Taking a deep breath, Hope closed her eyes, allowing the cool air to fill her lungs as she began.

“You'll never know just how much I miss you

You'll never know just how much I care

And if I tried, I still couldn't hide my love for you

You ought to know, for haven't I told you so

A million or more times?”

As Hope sang she could feel Gale’s eyes watching her intensely, his blue ores boring into her. Gale couldn’t help the ache in his heart that only seemed to grow as Hope continued, the lyrics flowing softly from her lips.

“You went away and my heart went with you

I speak your name in my every prayer

If there is some other way to prove that I love you”

It was as if the lyrics had been written by Hope for him rather than by Mack Gordon and Harry Warren. Hope sang effortlessly and if Gale could bottle this moment and keep it in his heart forever he would.

All too soon the song came to an end and both their hearts were beating faster than they wanted to admit. Hope glanced at Gale, catching him staring at her, his mouth open slightly as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the right words.

“That was beautiful, Hope. Really… I-…” Gale stumbled over his words, cursing that he couldn’t control his emotions when he was around her. She bought out the best of him but also confused his emotions to no end.

Meatball’s loud whine from beside them had them both in stitches as the dog looked down, confusion evident on his fluffy face.

“God, Meatball, can I not get one peaceful minute with my girl,” Gale laughed, pushing the husky away and standing up, pulling Hope with him. “Guess we’ve got our marching orders, and from a dog no less.”

Hope grinned, “He’s more than just a dog, aren’t ya Meatball? You're a member of the 100th, only the finest group of pilots you’ll ever meet.”

Gale grinned, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, “Boy do I like the sound of that.”

The walk back to the base didn’t take long and Hope found that both herself and Gale seemed to be dragging their feet. She didn’t want this day to end, it had been the most perfect day and Hope could feel her heart laying heavy in her chest at the prospect of getting back in their C47 in the morning.

“Gale, wait!” Hope stopped, her grip on Gale’s arm never loosened and causing him to spin around in a rush.

“Hope? Darling, what’s wrong?” Gale pulled her into his arms as the tears began to trickle down her cheeks. “Sweetheart, talk to me. What did I do wrong?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Hope croaked, her voice thick with tears, as she blubbered into his already damp shirt.

“Then why are you crying?” Poor Gale looked utterly confused, as did Meatball who sat beside the couple, his head cocked to one side.

“I don’t know if I can keep doing this,” Hope wailed, not thinking truly about what she had said.

Gale’s heart sunk as his grip loosened, “ I understand,” he whispered, his head hanging low. He wasn’t sure what he’d done so wrong but he’d clearly overstepped a mark. Was it because he wanted to marry her? But she seemed so happy.

“Gale, what’s wrong?” Hope snuffled, whipping her hand across her face.

Gale shook his head, “It’s okay, Hope. I understand. I am so sorry I overstepped. I shouldn’t have said what I said to you before and…”

“Gale, what’s going on?” Hope stepped forward, clutching onto Gale’s arm. “I don’t understand Gale, I need you.”

Gale cocked his head, looking at her once more, “I don’t understand. I- I thought that you didn’t want to do this.”

Hope couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped her throat, “Gale Cleven, you are a very attractive man but sometimes you don’t use that pretty little head of yours. I meant I don’t want to go back to work, I don’t want to get back in that C47. I want to stay here, with you, forever.”

Gale’s face lit up and within two strides he had Hope wrapped back in his arms, “You mean the world to me, Hope Armstrong.”

“You mean the world to me too, Gale Cleven,” Hope smiled, pushing the loose strands of hair from Gale’s face.

Gale’s smile was infectious and Hope couldn’t help but grin all the way back to base, her hand linked to Gale’s and her head pressed firmly against his shoulder.

Once they were back through the gates at Thorpe Abbott, Meatball ran off to join two young boys with Sergeant Lemmons from the ground crew, whom Hope had met briefly during her first visit to the base.

Gale waved at Lemmons before stating how well he’d fixed up ‘Phartzac’ the previous week.

“Are you ever gonna give me a tour of ‘Phartzac’? You talk so highly of her, I feel like I should meet the other woman in your life,” Hope jested, poking Gale in the chest. He looked down at her finger, laughing lightly.

“You are the only woman in my life. Phartzac is just a plane.”

“Just a plane. I thought she was your pride and joy,” Hope gasped in mock shock, raising her hand to cover her mouth.

Gale scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, “Umm… well I guess, no she is but you are my favourite,” Gale corrected himself, clasping Hope’s hand between his. “You’ll always be my favourite.”

“Good,” Hope leant forward pressing her lips to his but all too soon pulled away. “Then let’s go see her.”

They made their way across the base, passing by the other Fortresses until they came upon ‘Phartzac’, who was tucked secludedly at the end of the line of planes. The base was unusually quiet and most of the ground crew were working on other planes closer to the tower.

“Well, here she is. ‘‘Phartzac’,” Gale pointed proudly towards the aircraft and even Hope had to admit that she was an impressive machine.

“She’s a beauty.”

“She sure is.” There was a sense of pride that seemed to shine off Gale as he spoke about the plane. Telling Hope of all her little quirks and how she needs a ‘firm hand to handle her right’.

“Can we go inside?” Hope asked, grinning hopefully at the Major who instantly crumpled and agreed. He took her hand, leading her towards the plane. He undid the hatch and helped Hope climb into the small cramped space, trying to preserve her modesty and tuck her dress around her legs. She climbed up into the plane’s cockpit, which was slightly more roomy. To her amazement, the inside was very similar to the C47 cockpit in many ways and she soon found herself falling comfortably into one of the seats.

“I see you're keeping my chair warm for me,” Gale smirked, pulling Hope to her feet before sitting down and pulling Hope down into his lap. She laughed, running her fingers over his cheek.

“Anything for you, Major,” she grinned and Gale leant in, kissing her lips delicately, their bodies moulding together as they grew closer. Hope ran her fingers through his tousled, blond hair, enjoying the feeling of his body impossibly close to her own.

Breaking away from the kiss, Hope turned to brush her hair back over her shoulder, her eyes trailing over the control panel until they came across a small picture stuck to one of the panels on Gale’s side of the plane.

“That’s me,” Hope pointed out, her voice shaking with surprise as she turned to Gale who only smiled sweetly at her.

“Of course it’s you. I never fly without ‘My Baby’. You’re always with me.” Gale smiled at her with pure adoration and Hope thought that she could never love this man more than she did right at this moment.

“Gale, I-I…” she paused, taking in his features as if she hadn’t already committed them to memory. “I really like spending time with you, Gale.”

Gale smiled back at her, his piercing blue eyes sparkling as his thumb brushed a stray hair away from his face before he replied, “I really like spending time with you too, Hope.”

Hope’s heart ached as the words ‘I love you’ sat dormant, waiting for her to speak them out loud and admit how she felt about Gale. Her mind screamed that it was too soon and she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Something war had taught her though was that life was precious and she feared that she needed to tell him before it was too late.

All too soon five o’clock rolled around and from their spot in the cockpit of the Fort, Hope and Gale could see Frank drawing into the base in the blue Austin.

“I don’t want to leave, Gale. This afternoon has been so perfect,” Hope whined, burying her head into Gale’s chest. She’d spent the remainder of the afternoon sitting on his lap, talking, kissing, cuddling. The last thing Hope wanted was to be dragged back to reality by Frank.

“I know, I don’t want you to leave either,” Gale whispered, pressing his lips to her temple, “But I also know that Frank would have my head if you’re back late.”

Hope nodded, reluctantly peeling herself away from Gale and the pair began their descent from the Fort. Gale hopped down first, helping Hope step down into his arms with ease and he held her in his arms for a few moments more.

“I wish you could stay,” Gale whispered, his lips brushing against her ear, sending a shiver down Hope’s spine.

“I wish I could too,” Hope whispered back, “Maybe next time?” She winked at Gale causing him to chuckle, a light brush spreading across his cheeks.

“I’d like that.” The pair began their walk back along the runway towards the Nissen huts where Frank had pulled up the car.

“Well, hello lovebirds. Did you have a good day?” Frank asked, lighting up a cigarette and leaning against the side of the car, a snug smirk on his lips.

“We definitely did,” Hope snuggled into Gale’s side, her hand on his chest, feeling as his heart rate suddenly quickened under her touch. “It was perfect. We went for a lovely walk by the river and…”

“Okay Hope, I don’t need to know if you used the condoms, okay? You know how pilots are with their horizontal PT.” He roared his great booming laugh, clearly still finding the condom situation amusing as Hope’s cheeks turned the colour of her red lipstick.

“Frank, I did…” Hope began, as Gale pulled a toothpick out of the box and began twirling it between his lips, avoiding catching Hope’s eye, but Frank just waved her off.

“I'm only joking, I’m pleased you had a good time,” Frank blew smoke into the air. “You girls deserve a break.” A high-pitched giggle alerted them to Ruth and John’s arrival and Frank waved them over to the car.

They hopped off their bikes near the car, laying them in the grass gently. Approaching their friends, they walked hand in hand, arms swinging between them. Frank waved them over, sending the couple a smug grin.

“How’s your day been, Ruthie?” Frank asked, nodding curtly to John who responded similarly.

Ruth peered up at the Major with dusty pink cheeks. “Good.”

“That’s it? Good?” The Captain grumbled as he took a drag of his cigarette.

Snickering under her breath, Hope wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at Ruth who ducked her head, a grin plastered on her lips.

Johnny cut his eyes at Buck, who could see the mischief behind his friend’s eyes, and urged him silently to keep his mouth shut. “Well, If you-”

“Nevermind,” Frank interrupted the Major, raising a hand at him. “I don’t wanna know.”

Before anyone could speak, someone called out to the group. “Majors!”

Their eyes flew over to Hugh, who approached them quickly.

“I thought Buck had your blessing, Charlie?” John asked, a sly look on his face.

The group noticed his blank expression as he came to a stop beside his sister. “The light’s on.”

Buck and John’s smiles fell as their eyes met again. This time, there was no amusement in their gaze. Confusion painting their features, the girls watched them with furrowed brows.

“What does that mean?” Hope asked, looking up at Gale expectantly.

Johnny sighed and squeezed Ruth’s hand gently, peering down at her with pursed lips. “It means there’s a mission.”

“Harding said to bring toiletries, a blanket, and a summer uniform,” Hugh announced, running a tired hand down his face. “I think this one’s big.”

The women’s hearts sank…of course, they knew what the guys did, but until that moment, they hadn’t been reminded of it firsthand.

Hope turned, looking between her brother and Gale who both shared the same worried expression. It had always been horrendous knowing that Hugh might not return after a mission but now she had twice as much to lose. The fact that she could lose both the men she loved so deeply in one foul swoop caused the tears to well in her eyes. She looked up at Gale, unable to find the right words but he knew what she wanted to say and pulled her into his arms.

“Don’t worry, Darling. You can’t get rid of me that easily,” Gale promised, pressing his lips to her temple. She only nodded, enjoying the sweetness of his embrace and living in the hope that she’d never lose this. “And anyway, Hugh gave me his blessing, remember? I promised you that once this war is over I want to marry you.”

Hope grinned, tears trickling down her cheeks only to be swiftly wiped away by Gale’s thumb.

“You know you’re a real sweet talker sometimes.” The couple grinned at each other, Gale’s signature smirk causing Hope to chuckle. “No matter what happens you always find a way to make me smile.”

“Well that’s my job, Darling,” Gale chuckled, brushing his thumb across her cheek once more. “I always want to see you smile. I hate seeing you sad.” Hope nodded, smoothing his blond locks from his face and she leant up on her tiptoes to kiss him. It was very different from the passionate kisses they had shared earlier that day, but somehow it meant so much more.

“I love you Gale Cleven, come back to me okay?” Gale leant down and pressed his lips to Hope’s once more, relishing in the moment before they parted.

Hope turned to see Hugh looking down as he roughed up the grass with his boot.

“And you as well, Hugh,” she moved over to her brother who instantly embraced her. “I love you too and you have to promise to come back to me as well.”

Hugh mumbled something beside her ear before he pulled away, placing an object into her open palm. It was his ring, the ring he’d gotten for his eighteen birthday from their parents. It was the gift that inspired him to get a ring for Hope for her own eighteenth.

“Why are you giving this to me? I don’t want it. You keep it,” she all but shoved the ring back into his hand, pushing her brother away but Hugh remained firm.

“It’s not forever, Hope. I just want you to look after it for me, alright. As soon as I’m back in Thorpe Abbott I'll be demanding it’s safe return to me,” he jested, placing it back in Hope’s hand and she took it reluctantly, placing it on the chain around her neck, next to her own.

“Well you better come back in one piece and get it then,” she said firmly, holding her head high as she looked at her brother. “You’d better come back for it Hugh. You promise?”

Hugh nodded, hugging his younger sister once more, “Yeah Hope, I promise. I always keep my promises.”

The pair broke apart and Ruth returned to Hope’s side just in time for Frank to break up the farewells.

Frank’s regretful voice filled the air as he opened the back door of the car, leaving it open for the girls to climb in. “We’d better hit the road girls if we want to be back to base before it’s too dark.”

Hope glanced at Gale and Hugh once more, who now stood side by side, watching as she climbed into the car. She noticed when Hugh rested his hand on Gale’s shoulder and they shared a look that Hope couldn’t quite make out. Ruth climbed in beside her. They remained silent, watching as the men they loved became small specks in the rear view mirror.

Glancing at the girls' forlorn expressions as they each stared out their window silently, the Captain's gaze softened. "They're gonna be alright, you two. From what l've heard, your guys are the best pilots in the 100th. They'll be back in no time."

Ruth nodded slowly, her curls bobbing along her chin, but Hope remained glued to the window, her face hidden from Ruth by her dark hair. Frank eyed her carefully, watching as the tears rolled silently down her cheeks. Frank appreciated she had twice as much to lose, and knowing Hugh was never one to stay out of trouble weighed on her heavily. He’d have to keep a close eye on her over the next few days. While Ruth wore her emotions on her sleeve, Hope would suffer in silence in order to stay strong for Ruth.

The car was eerily silent as it made its way along the dark roads, the hooded lights casting a pathetic glow on the road ahead. Somewhere along the journey Ruth had fallen asleep against Hope’s shoulder and she smiled down at her friend, pleased that at least one of them could get some rest.

Once they arrived back to base the three split ways, Frank went to return the Austin before the Major returned the following morning. The girls went straight to their Nissan huts, undressing quickly and slipping into their nightdresses. Ruth sat on her bed, removing the letters from the box on her nightstand and reading over John’s words quietly while Hope busied herself around the room, folding clothes, tidying the cupboard beside her bed and arranging the desk.

Ruth slipped beneath her bed covers with a sigh, her mind too preoccupied to sleep, but unable to settle as Hope continued to rustle and shuffle around the room.

“Hope, will you please settle down and go to bed. We’re back to work tomorrow and we should at least get some sleep.”

Hope looked a little forlorn, “Sorry Ruth,” she slumped down on her bed, continuing to rummage through her musette bag. The blonde groaned, rolling onto her side to shield her eyes from the lantern by Hope’s bed. Eventually, all movements ceased until Ruth felt her bed dip with a creak as Hope sat down beside her.

Ruth had never really seen Hope cry. She’d shed a few tears but never broken down and cried, not until now…

Her shoulders shook as the silent sobs escaped her lips, “I-I can’t lose them, Ruth.”

“Hey,” Ruth whispered, sitting up in an instant and pulling Hope into her side, “They both made a big promise they would come back to you, Hope, and I don’t think that either of them would break it. They’re going to be fine…they all will.”

Ruth wasn’t sure if she was saying that part to comfort Hope or herself. The blonde had been sick to her stomach the whole night, unable to get the worst case scenarios out of her mind. Her only comfort was re-reading John’s letters.

She helped Hope crawl under the covers like she had so many times before, but this time Ruth resorted to being the big spoon instead of her usual place as little spoon. The bed wasn’t really wide enough for two people but they made it work, cuddling close to one another.

“He told me I mean the world to him,” Hope whispered, her voice thick with emotion as she mumbled into the pillow. The simple thought of Gale’s words sent Hope’s heart racing in her chest, and Ruth heard every single muffled word.

“He said what?” Ruth burst with excitement, “Did you say it back?”

“Of course, I did,” Hope chuckled softly at her friend's enthusiasm. “He also said that when this war is over that he wants to marry me.”

Ruth’s heart was fit to burst. She loved Gale and Hope together nearly as much as she loved her and John being together. Everything was coming together perfectly for them and she could only pray that things continue that way.

Now the older nurse understood why Hope’s worry ran deeper than she previously thought. Yes, Ruth felt very deeply for Johnny, but they hadn’t made any long-term promises to each other. Gale and Hope had. The couple had plans for the future…plans that would lead to children, a loving home, and a family.

Hope’s vision of three children playing in a garden reappeared in her mind, each one with Gale’s sandy blonde hair. Maybe they had her eyes and his lips? Her nose? She could see him coming home from work after a long day, giving her a loving kiss before sitting in a recliner with their youngest on his lap, rocking them to sleep softly. They’d have a dog too, running around and playing with the children. Maybe they-

“Hope?” Ruth mumbled into her friend's hair, breaking Hope from her thoughts. She earned a muffled hum and continued, “When you get married, can I be your bridesmaid?”

Hope turned over to face her friend slowly so she didn’t knock her out of bed, “Of course you can. Although you might have to fight Hugh for the job.”

Ruth grinned, narrowing her eyes playfully, “I bet I could take him on. One glare from me and I think he’d be crying.”

Hope chuckled in amusement, “I have to admit. When you’re mad, you are something to behold, Ruth Morgan. It doesn’t happen much, but I sure wouldn’t want to be on the wrong side of you when it does. I know the last time Hugh got on the wrong side of you he wasn’t best pleased,” Hope giggled, recalling her brother's shocked face at Ruth’s outburst. I hope John is always on his best behaviour I don’t think he realizes what a firecracker he’s got.”

“Yeah,” Ruth chuckled, already imagining Johnny’s reaction to her spitting off at someone. “Hopefully he won’t be the one it’s directed towards.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s gonna be much of a problem. I saw the way he was looking at you, Rue. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger, even if either of you don’t realize it.”

Closing her eyes, Ruth remembered his loving gaze in his nissen hut earlier. “Maybe,” she whispered, sinking into her pillow. “I still can’t believe all of this is because we evacuated some patients at their airfield on a random day, Hope.”

“I know,” Hope smiled softly. “Look at us.”

The girls chattered continued late into the night and come morning when Frank knocked on their door, they had finally fallen into a dreamless sleep, still tightly wrapped in each other's arms.

Tags: @georgieluz @docroesmorphine @major-mads @violetdaze25 @bcofl0ve @precious-little-scoundrel @blurredcolour @artlover8992 @b00ks1ut @xxluckystrike @hockeyboysarehot @kmc1989 @blueberry-ovaries

#masters of the air #gale cleven #hope armstrong #john egan #Ruth Morgan #on a wing and a prayer

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