Lance had never had to be by himself before. Not that he was dependent on people caring for him (aside from on occasion, when he got sick and his tia would make him caldo). No. He was just used to people. He was a people person, through and through. Growing up he had plenty of siblings and tios and tias and cousins to play with. And of course, his beautiful ama. Always around, always there. Sometimes he got annoyed, sure, but they were his family. And he loved having them around.
And then when he’d taken a step towards his dream, and gotten accepted into the academy, he’d had to say goodbye to them all. It was the dorm life for him from then on out. And still, he was not alone. Others he knew from middle school were there. And there was Hunk, his best friend. He’d always been the class clown type, so no one hated him. People - minus the instructors of course - encouraged it actually. They all needed a friendly distraction, especially after the incident a year ago, when an entire crew had been lost.
Even when he’d suddenly been whisked away, far from home, far from the people he loved most, he still hadn’t been truly alone. He’d been homesick, but never lonely, and the others on the Castleship had steadily been added to his idea of “family”.
No, Lance had never had to be by himself before.
And then suddenly he was.
He was completely and utterly alone in the Universe. There were no tios or tias. No cousins or siblings. No ama. No class to be a clown to. No team to get mad at him for making them trip.
Just him. In the middle of dead space. The closest stars just twinkling lights in the distance.
He’d never been one for tears. He’d been a crybaby when he was younger, but his ama always told him Mijo, why cry when you can laugh? and his dad always told him Save your tears for when you need them.
They’re working a case with a pack of ghouls up in Oregon when Sam’s phone buzzes with a picture of a symbol, sketched out in white paint on a concrete floor. He blinks at it for a couple of seconds before he recognises it. Fifth pentacle of Mars. He smiles, despite himself; feels a glow spread over his cheeks. His phone vibrates again. You gotta admit it’s classy.
Sure, Sam texts back. And then, fingers tripping despite himself, I’m totally swooning here.
As soon as he sends it he’s seized all over with hot prickles of regret. Jeez. Like. Way to make it weird. First time he meets an, an interesting man in how many years, and he’s right in there with the inappropriate messaging. Jeez.
He doesn’t have too long to stew in his own embarrassment before the phone scoots sideways, rattling plastic against the table. You should see the pictures I send to the guys I really like.
Ouch, says Sam.
There’s a longer pause after this one: a real pause, maybe thirty or forty minutes. It’s enough time for Dean to get back from the diner down the street with two bags of takeout, flop down onto the bed nearest the door and eat fries all over it, wiping his fingers on the blanket.
“Dude,” Sam says. “How can you be such a neat freak at home and such a slob out here?”
“Not my castle, Sammy,” Dean says.
Sam rolls his eyes, digs into the bag Dean’s set down beside him. In what he’s choosing to read as an expression of thoughtfulness, his burger contains both lettuce and coleslaw. “Thanks,” he says, lifting it in Dean’s direction.
“No worries, dude,” says Dean, leaning forward with the remote control in his hand, flipping through channels on the fuzzy TV.
Sam looks at his phone. Nothing. Huh. It’s fine. Like. He’s
not sure what he was expecting. But there’s a little jab of disappointment in his stomach nonetheless.
He scrapes his chair backward, looks at what Dean’s watching. Wrestling. The burger is okay, a little tough. The coleslaw is good though, and the fries still not quite cold.
On the table, Sam’s cell buzzes again.
He puts down the half-eaten burger; wipes his hands on the greasy wrapper, which doesn’t much help. His fingers leave traces on the screen as he unlocks the phone.
It’s another picture, and if the first one, the pentacle, turned him pink and pleased he can feel himself flush head-to-toe red at what he’s seeing this time around. Um. Um, okay.
“Y’alright?” says Dean, looking up at him quizzically. Sam wonders if maybe he made some kind of noise, opening the text. He couldn’t swear that he hadn’t.
“Yeah,” he says, nodding at Dean. He drops his eyes to the screen again, feels himself turning redder. He feels suddenly very conscious of his own skin against his clothes. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He breathes, slow in and out, then gets to his feet, phone clasped what he hopes is inconspicuously in his hand. “I’m just. Uh. I’m just gonna.”
“Go wild,” says Dean, frowning at him. And yeah. Okay. He doesn’t usually ask Dean’s permission to use the bathroom.
“I’ll be back,” Sam says, escaping inside. Door locked, he puts his phone on the sink and bends over it to strip out of his shirt.
Saying no is hard Saying no is hard when you’re a woman Saying no is hard when the only one who’s really a yes Already said no to you Saying no is hard when you’re not used to attention Saying no is hard when a moment to forget is at stake Saying no is hard when you know how rejection feels And you don’t want anyone else to feel it Saying no is hard when you’re not opposed but reason says you should be Saying no is hard when you don’t know what saying yes would feel like Saying no is hard when you have to look at his face afterward And you know he’s wondering what he misread Saying no is hard when he didn’t misread anything and you’re just not ready Saying no is hard when he could be great but you’re stuck in the past Saying no is hard when his arm is around you and it’s offering comfort From the pain you felt when the last one said no But saying no is empowering Because it means that you are in control of you And it means that you can say no when you need to And that you can say yes to yourself first
For Junpei there are 45 years worth of feelings, and for Akane, a million years worth of feelings and emotions, resonating within them both. There was tranquil and magestic silence between the two of them. Maybe just looking into one another’s eyes was enough for them.
- Kotaro Uchikoshi
Another redraw of an old sketch because I have troubles doing anything else right now. That said, I kind of just put myself back into a Zero Escape mood. Junpei and Akane’s story hurts so bad, I really just want them to have one timeline where they’re together, please…
@abadpoetwithdreams and I got really fired up about this idea and came up with all sorts of scenerios, but alas, this is all the art I’m capable of right now so I only did a few of the silly ideas (made even sillier by my laziness).
(But this sort of silliness can turn really tragic really fast.)
You stared at your reflection, looking at your tired, bloodshot eyes. It had been a week, and it felt like it had been a couple hours ago. You could barely stand on your own two feet, you placed both of your hands, on the counter, you faced down and began to cry. Hard. You even let out a yell. How? How could this happen? How could he be here and then gone? How could you be standing here in a black dress, going to see him one last time? How? And Why? Why Peter?
You hit your hand on the counter, screaming, letting out another cry. You put your back up against the wall, sliding down, pulling your knees up.
Do you ever remember that spock was killed off literally so jim would learn a lesson about how his actions have consequences. Like thats such a romantic trope? Where the MC's love interest dies to teach them something/motivate them. Wow what is trek
WOW WHAT INSPIRED THIS PAIN?? You have a super valid point but friend whAT MADE YOU THINK ABOUT THIS I now share your pain and thoughts about this topic so on the one hand thanks for making me think about this but on the other hand OUCH (really though, good point…)
A Maru Matsuri Desu yo, Azazel-san Z Event (Afternoon session)
Kamiya Hiroshi giving his answer towards this one woman’s problem aka Hokkaido Nurse-chan (30 years old).
Her problem was that she mysteriously became popular and is getting harassed by perverts and co-workers to the point where she gets scared if she gets touched by men. And she’s wondering how to overcome this fear. She however is alright when dealing with children and elderly.
Kamiya Hiroshi: I’ll treat you gently. I’ll gently…touch you. I’m really good at it. Umm… Toyonaga Toshiyuki: You hand. Hand! Kamiya Hiroshi: Umm it doesn’t feel disgusting at all. It really does…What? Ouch. Onosaka Masaya: That’s creepy. Man you’re really odd. You do know that you’re the top most popular seiyuu in the world, right? So don’t use that good voice of yours so lightly! Kamiya Hiroshi: It really isn’t…(too bad).
P.S. During this part there were a lot of fangirls cheering and clapping. And Onosaka-san managed to give some legit advice towards this woman too.