just-staring-out-into-the-distance

I buy all your favorite foods so I will be ready when you come home because once I did this and you said “This is how I know you love me.”

I go on long walks alone and think about a poem my friend wrote that goes "This is how you die by distance."

I hum the sound of the dial tone under my breath.

I stare at my hands and wonder at their uses. I consider pawning my thighs. I consider auctioning off my hip bones. I put my breasts in a box on the top shelf of the closet. I do not need them now.

I think of all the thing I have to tell you when I will see you.
Stories like:
I just found out pumpkins are technically fruits
and
Cary Grant’s first job was in a traveling circus
and
Most mammals are born able to walk and learn to run within minutes, so we are not crazy for moving so fast.

This morning I wrote your name in the steam on my mirror, even though I knew it would fade within minutes.

In my best notebook I wrote “I miss you” ten thousand times.

I wrote “I think I am missing one of my ribs”

I wrote “I envy the way leaves know exactly when to fall from the branches and when to come back in the spring”

I wrote “Everyone else isn’t you. It turns out that’s a huge problem for me.”

—  Clementine von Radics, Things I Do When I Cannot Hold You

do you ever just see your tc from a distance and stare at them, observing their every movement and noting the way that they run their hand through their hair, the way they frown intently over a paper and their habits, like shaking their hair out of their eyes etc? then you could just look at them forever and appreciate what a beautiful work of art G-d has created, but at the same time you can just burst because they’re so freaking adorable! 💗

putting the rulers of men to good use for once :,D

Keep Me Steady As We Go

Oliver’s excuse has always been that he doesn’t dance. The truth? He can’t.

"What’re you watching?"

Shit.

With reflexes that surprise even him, Oliver slams the laptop shut and pops the earbuds free with a sharp yank. Tipping onto his right hip, he shoves the incriminating devices into a pile of throw pillows.

"Nothing," he says, voice cracking on the last syllable. He cringes, lips thinning in dismay; nonchalance always seemed to elude him when he needed it the most. Clearing his throat, he twists to meet Felicity’s inquisitive stare.

"Are you sure?" she asks, brows knitting together. "Because that reaction just now?" Her hand sweeps the distance between him and the padded fortress guarding his laptop. "Furthest thing from ‘nothing’."

Oliver coughs out a strangled laugh. “Uh - haha - yeah, no. No, I was just doing, you know, some late night—” he scratches his nose, eyes darting away “—internet browsing.” He smiles, strained and tight-lipped, overwhelmed by the urge to smack himself.

Felicity peers over her glasses, lips pursed. “I don’t know if anyone’s had the heart to tell you, but you’re a terrible liar, Oliver.” Climbing over the couch back, she drops onto flannel-clad shins. Shrewd, expectant eyes fix on him once again. “Spill, mister.”

Keep reading

Big brown eyes.
That’s what I remember the most about her.
They would widen to perfect circles and stare out into the distance and sometimes she looked so sad that I could almost feel her despair radiating off of her.
She told me so much about her past: the boys and men and the drinking and cigarettes and starving.
But I always got the sense that there was something even worse lurking just below her surface of sadness,
A beast that ate at her from the inside.
A Long Time Coming.

Juliet took a long deep breath, staring at the building in front of her. So many memories circled around the building and she just sighed as she walked inside. So much had happened in the past few months she was sure no one she even knew would still be around. She stared off in the distance, humming to herself as she filled out some final paperwork to get her room key.

C A R T I N E L L I

Choosing the L&L Automat her first month in New York City Peggy always figured must have been some kind of divine intervention. Out of all the automats and all the diners she could have chosen within a comfortable walking’s distance from the New York Bell Company, it just so happened to be the one that employed Angie Martinelli. And Angie Martinelli, she had quickly come to find, was irreplaceable. One of a kind.

Angie Martinelli was an aspiring actress, one who had no qualms about practicing over carafes of coffee and staring determinedly into the mirror back at herself. Having caught the end of a monologue from Romeo and Juliet the first time she’d settled into a free booth, Peggy had laughed to herself even while appreciating the acting - actresses were a dime a dozen in New York, after all, and she’d hold her full opinion until she had more exposure. That exposure, as it was, had come sooner than she had expected, Angie whirling around with a wide, friendly smile on her face, bounding over to pour her a cup of coffee even before she could ask for tea instead, chattering away as she offered a menu. However, eventually giving in to her sparkling blue eyes, Peggy made do, and didn’t bother putting up a token protest. Coffee wasn’t bad, every once in a while.

Really though, it shouldn’t have been that much of a surprise as it had been that Peggy realized she kept on showing up at the automat more for the company than for the food. During the war, she’d learned how to eat whatever was given to her - to eat it and appreciate it and keep her mouth shut because it was all she was going to get. The L&L Automat’s fare, however, when not purchased from the automatic wall itself, was subpar to what she’d gotten used to during the war. And yet, keenly aware of that fact, she kept coming back. “Oh, of course it’s terrible,” Angie winked at her one afternoon after Peggy had let slip what she was thinking, “But we pay for the privilege to eat anyway. It’s free - from a free country, ain’t it? As much as I can figure, it’s that we’re paying for, more than taste.” And, shaking her head but mustering a smile anyway, Peggy had nodded, her smile becoming real when Angie left her with another wink and teasing crack about her being “too English” to fully understand.

Ten weeks into her patronage of the diner, two and a half months after settling in New York and her new job (as much as she could describe it as a “job”, being relegated to a common secretary more often than not), Peggy finally allowed herself to admit that, yes, what most likely kept her coming back was Angie’s company. The younger woman had expertly and quickly wormed her way into Peggy’s normal routine, full of good cheer and optimism and authentic interest, happy to complain good naturedly about her day as soon as she’d happily listen to Peggy’s day as well (numerous cups of coffee and snarky, witty quips invariably involved, of course). She was quick with smiles and sympathetic shakes of her head, equally as eager to slide into the booth across from her as she was leaning forward on her elbows when Peggy sat at the counter. She was genuine. Innocent. Alive. She was everything Peggy worked to keep safe.

Inevitably, the longer Peggy spent in Angie’s company, the more Peggy thought about her. When she fell into Howard’s mess, and subsequently caused the death of her roommate - poor Colleen, she’ll never forgive herself for that - Peggy didn’t want to give in to Angie’s admittedly tempting offer. The Griffith did sound perfect. It sounded wonderful. Exactly what she needed. But, watching Angie in her element, mixing waitressing with practicing lines and dramatically confronting jerks - Peggy stepping in when needed, Peggy couldn’t allow herself to potentially put her in danger. Never. Never. She’d never forgive herself if Angie got compromised.

Nevertheless, Peggy found herself moving in. Convinced from a mixture of Angie’s puppy dog eyes and having caught how sad and discouraged Peggy’s well meaning brush-offs made her, and honestly needing a place to stay that didn’t come with an automatic branding of being a Howard Stark whore, Peggy allowed the younger woman to all but drag her along with her. Meeting her after a shift at the automat, red cheeked and eager, practically dancing on the tips of her toes as she grabbed Peggy’s arm, leading her to the right subway railroad track, Peggy smiled and laughed and dipped her head and told herself she wasn’t concentrating too hard on how Angie’s everyday outfit emphasized how skinny she was, the waitress shining in casual wear. She was only following her for a place to live. Not too far from her work, easy on her budget, and practically perfect, those were the only reasons.

Except they weren’t. Angie was down the hall. The all-female occupancy was refreshing. Though she had to keep herself always decent and perfectly made-up, Peggy relished it. As much as she shouldn’t have boxed herself into an “impossibly impenetrable” hotel, and shouldn’t have doubly locked herself into an almost daily ritual of Angie knocking on her door and barging in offering alcohol and sweets, having to send her away lying through her teeth, Peggy still appreciated it. Angie didn’t give up. No matter how often Peggy unintentionally gave her reasons to surrender and walk away, she didn’t. No matter how often Peggy felt horrible that she’d even allowed herself to make it so Angie could call on her only to be sent away, it didn’t make a difference. Angie still smiled at her during meals and at the automat.

Letting Howard crash in her room was a low point in her secret agent life. As successful as she had been able to separate her normal life as “Peggy Carter, telephone company employee” with what she was doing after hours, having Howard in a place she barely had any control over… It had sent her almost into a tailspin. Smiling widely, practically inanely at Angie when she stepped out of her room, immediately closing and locking the door behind her, she accompanied her down to dinner, dominant hand clutched tightly around Angie’s arm, incredibly interested, beyond the norm, in the other woman’s day. As much as she honestly wanted to know, she hoped Angie couldn’t tell just how much she was faking it, too. In fact, she hoped Angie never found out how much she was faking. Ever.

Leaning back, hands splayed, grasping as tightly as she could to the brick face, Peggy could barely breathe. Heights, more than anything else, had always chilled her bones and sucked the air out of her lungs. Heights mixed with imminent danger…? Peggy was surprised her heart hadn’t yet combusted in her chest. Still, inching, pausing, and inching some more towards Angie’s room, the faintest hint of optimism flickering in her chest, Peggy almost sagged before she caught herself when Angie opened her window, practically accusing, “Peggy? What are you doing?” right before loud, insistent fists sounded on her apartment door. Breathing in, wide eyed and almost hopeless, Peggy could barely believe it as, taking in her blurted, “They’re here for me,” Angie paused, nodded, closed her windows, and took care of Thompson and Sousa. Helping Peggy in minutes later, wide eyed and excited, accusing, “I knew you didn’t work for the phone company!” Angie, while obviously anxious and confused, was everything and more than Peggy had ever hoped. Organizing a ride for her, even, Peggy wished, after the fact, that she’d done more than hugged the courageously strong actress goodbye after promising a, “Someday.” Yes, she thought, becoming unconscious minutes later after Dottie kissed her with her lipstick, she should have done more. She should have kissed her. …She should have kissed Angie.

Ironically, it was Angie who found her again, and not the other way around. Demanding to be let into the New York Bell Company, knowing it was as much an actual telephone company as powdered eggs were actual eggs, Angie had apparently been in the neighborhood when Dooley had sacrificed himself. Terrified, full of gumption and spunk, she wouldn’t leave the front office, fists curled at her waist, chin up, advancing on the elevator doors even as Rose reached for her hidden gun. “I don’t care if ya shoot me,” she bit out, “I’m here for Peggy. She’d get ya back more than I could.” (“That was complete posturing,” Angie admitted later, words hot and breathy and close to tears against Peggy’s neck as she embraced her in the SSR bathroom, arms wrapped tightly around her, “I’d hoped your reputation had preceded you.”) And, “Angie!” Peggy snapped, immediately dragging the younger woman away as soon as she walked into the bullpen, towards privacy, “You brave, brave, foolish woman.” “Hey,” Angie sniffled, flicking Peggy’s hand before catching it up, lacing their fingers together, leaning up to press her lips softly to Peggy’s before dissolving into tears, shoving her head against Peggy’s sternum, “Forgive me for thinkin’ the woman I’d given my heart to was kaput!” And, pulling Angie in tight, against her chest, kissing her forehead and squeezing her as if she never wanted to let her go, the only person who needed forgiveness, Peggy thought, drinking in how Angie felt against her, allowing, at least for a moment, thoughts of the future, was her. Her.

Brighter than Before- (young) Remus Lupin imagine

Request: Can I ask for a young Remus Lupin imagine where he is deeply in love with you, but he rather choses to keep the distance, so he just stares at you during class, smiles at you, offers to help you with homework and is all cute and fluffy… he doesn’t want to ask you out because he things it’ll be dangerous for you to be with a werewolf… but you already know that he likes you. fluffy pretty pleeeeeeeeease? xx ♥ <33333 thank you! :)

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

You could get lost in that perfect smile alone. Remus Lupin wasn’t the most out-going type, but his smile was purposefully charming nonetheless. Your heart beat quicker yet once you realized you were meeting him shortly for a study date with him. With a quick comb of your hair with your fingers, you pushed open the library doors and immediately found him staring at the door like he was waiting for your arrival.

Remus watched your movements with his eyes. The same eyes that watched you in class. The same eyes you often caught gazing at you across a room.

“I brought you some tea to help make it through the homework.” He joked, gesturing quietly towards the two mugs on the table. You nearly melted at the sweetness of his actions. Yes, you quite put it together that the smiling, staring, and sweetness were because Remus more than likely fancied you. No other boy did this for you. Not once. Remus was polite, but you had seen him being polite to others; this was much more than just Remus politeness.

“That’s so nice of you!” You genuinely thanked Remus, taking the warm mug between your hands and flipping your book open at the same time.

“It wasn’t a problem.” Remus shyly replied, seating himself next to you to better share the textbook between you.

“I really need help with History of Magic.” You said boredly. “I’m so glad you’re helping me!” You smiled. Remus chuckled and prepared himself to help you take notes.

~~~

The chapters you struggled with ended in a breeze. And all of your new knowledge was brought upon you with the patient help of Remus. The conversation had grown silent and Remus coughed softly.

“Are you excited for the Hogsmeade trip this week?” He asked quietly, as not to disturb other students.

“I am. It’s a full moon. Should be beautiful.” You noted more to yourself. You clamped your mouth shut after that comment. Along with figuring Remus fancied you, you also put together other signs. Remus was a werewolf. Over your shoulder you felt Remus’ jaw clench.

“I’m sorry.” You started. Remus looked down at you with mild panic in his eyes. “I know you’re a werewolf, Remus.”

“Er, um, I-I…” Remus gulped and attempted to stand. You gently place a hand on his shoulder, stopping him instantly.

“Please, I don’t think any different of you.” You lowered your voice to just above a whisper. Remus’ eyes darted about, not meeting yours for more than a fraction of a second.

“You weren’t supposed to find out.” Remus admitted, shaking under your fingertips. You smiled lightly and closed your fingers around the material of his shirt.

“Why wasn’t I?” You asked.

Remus was silent for a while before answering. His eyes were on the waxing crescent moon. “Because I thought you wouldn’t want to be with a werewolf. I’m not safe to be around, Y/N. You don’t deserve my feelings for you. You deserve better than mine.” Remus shrugged once as if trying to get out of your grip.

“Oh, Remus.” You leaned over to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. “I want them all. All your feelings and thoughts and ideas. I don’t care what you are.” You assured. Remus’ demeanor brightened at your words.

“You mean it?” He breathed. You nodded insistantly. Remus rested his hand over the one of yours that laid on his shoulder. His beautiful eyes met yours and sent calming shivers down your spine.

“I mean it.” You confirmed, leaning your head on the werewolf’s shoulder. Remus took a deep breath and nodded. You sat in silent, staring at the moon outside with him. You swore it was shining brighter that night than any before.

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

Thank you for requesting!

Winchester brothers- You're safe now

Title: You’re safe now

Pairings: Winchester brothers x reader

Word count:946

Warnings: Mention of Rape, don’t read if sensitive to the subject. Rape is not in any shape or form funny. If anyone needs to talk just send me a private message xxx

Reader (sister) Is acting distance and not their usual bubbly self. Her brothers confront her. 

”(y/n)” Sam called, his eyes darting over to you. You sat on the edge of the bed staring numbly off into space as you fiddled with your nimble fingers. Sam looked up from his laptop trying desperately to grasp your attention.

You had been acting distant and just plain odd but you just shrugged it off and said you were fine whenever your brothers asked. Sam repeated your name but you remained numb and unresponsive. You were completely out of it. 

Sam looked over at the door where Dean would be coming back any minute. Sam tugged at his tie, still in his Fbi attire. Straightening out his trousers he made his way over to you. 

The bed dipped down but you didn’t even notice. Sam noted how your hands were shaking and how your eyes were glazed over, staring off into nothing. You jumped when you felt your brothers arm drape over your shoulder. 

”Hey” Sam smiled sadly. His hair fell in front of his face as he looked down at you. Out of habit you reached up brushing Sam’s hair behind his ear. He smiled, his eyes closing when you brushed your hand against his cheek. 

You hadn’t talked to him properly in so long, he missed the comfort you brought. You pulled your hand back resting it in your lap. Sam grasped your hand. 

”(y/n), please tell me what’s wrong. I’m worried for you, Dean too” Sam pleaded, eyes begging. ”All we have is each other, we help each other get through stuff” 

”S-sammy, I-I” You croaked. You didn’t know what to say. Before you could mutter another word Dean walked in. He hadn’t noticed the scene before him or your glum face and Sam’s concerned one.

You shot up pulling out of Sam’s embrace as you shuffled over towards the table. Sam sighed but shook of the worry from his face and smiled at his older brother. 

”hey, brought some food back for you guys” Dean announced as he put the bags on the table. He pulled out some packets of food and gave Sam his. He was about to hand you yours when you shook your head. 

”I’m not hungry”You mumbled heading towards the bed. You pulled back the covers before climbing in. Your brothers stared at you sadly. It was only 4 in the afternoon yet you were going back to sleep again. 

It was like a routine, all you did was sleep, have a nightmare, sleep, have a nightmare. They both looked at each other, sharing the same look.

********************

Sam glanced over at your sleeping form in the bed. ”Dude, something is definitely going on with her”Sam whispered under his breath, leaning closer to his brother. 

”I know, Sammy”Dean sighed, scrunching up his wrapper and tossing it in the bin. ”She’s got the Winchester blood though, she won’t tell us what’s wrong”Dean added. 

Sam groaned rubbing his temples. ”Actually, she’s just got your stubbornness”Sam grunted. Dean gave him a bitch face before glancing over at you. His eyes narrowed, head tilting as he tapped Sam’s shoulder. 

Sam opened his eyes at the sudden contact and looked at his older brother who was looking at you. ”What? Dean, what?”Sam asked, having to repeat himself since Dean was staring at you. 

”What’s that?”Dean mumbled under his breath, more to himself than his younger brother. 

”What?”Sam asked getting up along with his brother. ”Dean!” Sam groaned. 

”What the hell- Sammy!”Dean raged. 

”Dude, shh!”Sam hissed, pointing his slender finger to his lips as he raced over to where Dean was standing at your bedside, your wrist in his grasp. Sam’s eyes widened when he spotted to large bruises on your wrists. 

”Dean, that’s finger marks”Sam choked, eyes wide as he took your wrist gingerly in his hand. ”How could we have missed that?”He asked, turning to his older brother before his eyes widened even more. ”Do you think this has something to do with why she’s been acting weird?”

”Must be”Dean mumbled. ”Otherwise, she would have told us”Dean added. 

****************

”Alright, what?”You sighed, putting your fork down as you sat back in your chair and crossed your arms. ”You two have been giving each other ”secret” glances all day.What’s going on?”You groaned. 

Your brothers once again shared a look. ”We saw the bruises on your wrists today, (y/n)”Sam sighed. Your eyes widened as you sat up straight. 

”Oh. I-I got it from a previous hunting trip, no big deal”You shrugged off, nerves filling your stomach. 

”(y/n), what the hell is going on with you!”Dean yelled slamming his palms on the table. Sam jumped, glaring at Dean. 

”Dean, not now”Sam hissed. 

”No. I’m sick of her keeping secrets from us”Dean glared. 

”I was raped, okay!” 

Everyone fell into a silence. 

”y-you what?”Sam whispered. Dean was unable to speak, like he had forgotten. His head hurt as he leaned further down in chair trying to comprehend what had been said. 

Their eyes both filled with tears and so did yours. Sam immediatly went into big brother mode and rushed up to hug you but you stepped back. You sobbed as you pushed your hand on his chest to push him away. He frowned, hurt covering his face. 


”Don’t”You choked running to the bathroom. Sam let out a shaky breath his hands coming up and tangling in his hair. He looked over at his older brother with tears in his eyes. 

”Dean?”He questioned. Sam knew he was going to have to take charge of the situation. Dean was in too much shock to do anything. He was exactly like you were earlier. 

No one could believe what they had heard.

muigan-skytiger-ofkyrat asked:

The tiger stared at the man seemingly irritated. 'Another one?' Just how many of this human are there? But this one didn't smell like the others. This might actually be the real one...He cocked his head to the side eyes narrowed. But he kept his distance, Just in case.

Pagan min was taking a stroll around his compund. He’s barely outside ever since the whole ordeal with Ishawari and Mohan. Pagan Breathed in the mountain air,only to hear a rustle in the bushes over but the the trees. “I advise you to come out already. I don’t have time to play hide and seek.”  He said putting his hand to his hip and tapping his foot in an impatiant manor.

anonymous asked:

jooheon probably just sits by the window every day while the rest of monsta x does their thing, staring out of it and listening to 800 long distance 8tracks mixtapes. he probably texts gunhee sappy poems with weird ass metaphors and drake lyrics. jooheon forcing one of the kids to teach him guitar so he can sing about his feelings and post vids of them on insta

This isnt evn funny bc this is literaly what im doing rn im on 8tracks sitting by my window watching the snow being emo im abt to start writing poetry with my tears as ink

sakuratsukikage asked:

6 for the Dragon Age ship of your choice!

6. things you said under the stars and in the grass. let’s go with…hmmmm…Alistair/Warden. my Tabris needs a little love.

Sinoé hovered just on the edge of sleep, staring lazily up at the starry sky. She had wandered a fair distance from the camp, and the glow of the fire was very faint, but that was how she liked it. She reached out and traced the constellations in the sky with her fingertips, and thought of how, back in the alienage, the smog and smoke and lights of the city made the stars so faint and far away. Before, in that other, painful life so far away, she hadn’t known what her eyes could do, but after months in the wild she had grown used to seeing in the dark, to scouting with her senses, to slipping into nature as easily as breathing. 

Is that what it was like for the Dalish, and for those before them? If Sinoé had been born a beautiful Dalish hunter and not a slight, mousy little scrap of a thing in a human city, what would have been different?

She was jerked out of her thoughts with a loud bump and crash, and she sat up and spun to see Alistair struggling up with a muffled oath. 

She laughed, her voice shooting embarrassingly high. “Are you all right? Did you trip?”

"I-Maaaaybe.” He straighten and brushed himself off, squinting in the darkness and trying to look cool and collected and trying to smile charmingly all at the same time. It was…adorable. There was really no other word for it.

"Did you want to join me?" Sinoé asked, trying for seductive, missing the mark entirely, and prayed to the Maker that she had hit some level of cute and endearing instead. "Or did you trip on purpose?"

"Hmm, well unfortunately, I’m not gifted with beautiful, magic eyes like you.” The ‘beautiful’ was entirely unnecessary, and Sinoé giggled girlishly and held out her hand.

"Come on, then. I’ve got you."

He slipped his hand into hers—large and warm, calloused and rough in the same places that Sinoé’s hands were, from gripping swords and shields. She was abruptly less ashamed of her rough little hands than she had ever been. 

They lay back down and settled beside one another in easy silence, until Sinoé realized that she had still not let go of Alistair’s hand. She blushed, thinking to let go, but before she could, he shyly brought her fingers to his lips, avoiding her eyes. Sinoé’s heart gave an unsteady bu-bump! in her chest, and she was immensely thankful for her elf eyes, so that she could see Alistair’s blushing face as clearly as she felt her own.

/googles how much distance a Horse can travel in one day.

/stares at how little that is in my state

…Wtf how are the guys gonna get anywhere and head into different COUNTRIES wtf.

…wait.

/scrolls map out and starts comparing European countries’ sizes.

Hahahaha right the USA is just ridiculously fucking large.

Sure it took you a bit to actually want to get up from your seat. You actually liked sitting and resting there. But when She wants you to get your ass in gear and see her, you get moving. You don’t spend too much time doing meaningless things like actually shutting your laptop, just leaving it sit open to go to sleep while you were gone.

The door shuts as you walk outside, feet padding across the floor as you walk the short distance to where the Empress would be waiting. And god, it seemed like a longer stretch of floor than it actually was. You stare at the door to her room for a few more moments before you blink, tilting your head and pushing your hand to open it.

"Empress?" Your voice calls out, soft and short.

glassmemoir​ 

     He’s already smoking when he shows up, and Matt’s jaw jerks slightly in greeting before his eyes slide away to stare at a point off in the distance. “Thanks for meeting me,” he says in that same slow tone. “Needed to get out of the house. We can go wherever. I’ll drive, just… I don’t feel like being around a lot of people, is all.”

The scene where Conde is staring at Mary longingly during the funeral weirded me out so much, and it literally had nothing to do with the fact that it was Conde and everything to do with the fact that they are at a FUNERAL mourning a DEAD PERSON and a guy is giving puppy eyes to his crush from a distance and they choose to focus in on him? really writers? wtf even was that? if it was suppose to be cute and romantic IT WASN’T, It was just WEIRD.

el-tango-de-roxanna asked:

Kantuna- Mituna can actually lift Kankri and does so in front of people. He literally picks him up.

Everything seemed to be really nice. Meenah was getting along with people, Cronus wasn’t being…Cronus, and Meulin was talking with Kurloz. This is nice. No one is being triggering at all! Kankri thought as he watched them all from a distance. Oddly, Mituna wasn’t around to annoy anyone. Where is he? Maybe he is just skating with Latula… For a moment, Kankri was lost in his own thoughts. That was what happened before Mituna crashed into him.

"Hey asshole! Get out of my way!!" Mituna shouted.

"Oh, I am sorry to be disrupting you, Mituna. What were you doing anyways?" 

Mituna stopped and stared at Kankri for a brief second or two before answering.

"Um, I was going to do the thing."

"No, Mituna. We are not going to do the thing. Maybe later….when no one is around. Okay?"

 Kankri saw the smile disappear from Mituna’s face as the troll turned away.

"Are you okay Mituna?" Kankri asked, tapping him lightly on the shoulder.

 He didn’t want him to be sad after all. Mituna just tore his heart apart whenever he had a depressed look on his face. I’m not even sure if he is actually sad. Maybe, he is just tricking me into doing the thing in public. Kankri stared at him for few more seconds before he heaved a sigh.
"Fine, Mituna. You can do it if you want…"

 The lively expression reappeared on Mituna’s face as soon as the words left his mouth.

"Yes! Thank you, Kankri!!"

 Before he could react, Kankri felt Mituna’s arms wrap around his waist. Panic flooded over him as his feet left the ground below him when he was hoisted into the air.


"D-don’t strain yourself, Mituna. I don’t want you to get hurt." he said quickly. I do not want anyone to see this….Oh dear, this is so embarrassing! Mituna only smiled brighter in response and pushed him a little higher into the air.

"Hey guys!" Mituna shouted. "Look what I can do!!"

 All the other trolls turned to look at Mituna, who was still holding Kankri hostage in his arms. Oh dear….. Kankri watched everyone’s eyes widen as they saw Mituna holding him.


"Wow, Tuna! Thats AMAZING! When did you learn to do that?" Meulin asked as she walked over to him. A blush fell over Mituna as he put Kankri back down onto the ground.


"Well, Kankri taught me how to do it…." he mumbled.


"Aw! Thats adorable, Tuna!" Meulin squealed. While Meulin was talking, Kankri leaned close to Mituna’s ear.


"Yes, that was adorable. I’d like to do that again sometime." As he finished his sentence, he gave Mituna a light kiss on the cheek. He saw a deep blush fall over him as he backed away.


"A-ah! Thanks Kankri…." Mituna mumbled. He nodded once.


"Mhm….Now, how about a return kiss? Its rather rude not to give something back."


Mituna reacted “his way”, grabbing the collar of Kankri’s sweater and dragging him into a deep and long kiss. They hung onto the kiss for a few seconds before Mituna let go of Kankri’s sweater collar.


"Hee, hee! Looks like I have a new ship!" Meulin squeaked as she walked away from the scene.


"Yep!" Mituna said back to her. "…So, what now?" Kankri glanced at Mituna’s skate board.


"Why don’t you go skating? That seems like a fun thing to do." He watched as Mituna walked over to his board and adjusted it to where he could skate on it.


"And one more thing, Kankri." He said.


"What would that be?"


"…Maybe we should do the kissing thing another time. It was nice."


Kankri smiled at Mituna.


"You can count on that, Tuna. Now, why don’t you go have some fun on your skate board?" The yellow-blooded troll gave Kankri a bright smile before riding off.


"Okay! See you later Kankri!!"


"Mhm…..I will see you later as well."

                                                ~ The End.

> You draw your bow again, staring down the target a good distance away. You had taped it to a tree earlier for practice. You wait a while before you let the arrow go, hoping your depth perception has somehow gotten better. Luckily, you hit the target just not the middle. You frown a little and move over. You take the arrow out and sigh. Maybe you’ll get the middle some other time.

"I think I’m 9ettin9 worse.."

> You hear footsteps and stop. You look around carefully, unsure if you should head back inside.