#And I could not properly phrase this annoyance to the teacher

[jhsharman]

"At Your Service"

[1p2p-heta-imagines]

I don't if you did this before or if you're taking ask but Can I have 2p Allies that are teachers and one day 2 students that are Identical twins ask at the same time(in a slightly creepy tone),"Are you Immortal or a Country"before the 2ps can lie properly one of the twins pull out a big ass world history book,While the other twin is pointing at pictures with them on it.What are the 2p Allies going to do and if it's not too much to ask can you do this same ask but the 1p Allies or 2p Axis later

(I’ll gladly answer the other asks, feel free to just send in an ask whenever you would like me to do either and I’ll get to them when I can!)

2p America:

- Is just looking at a painting of his extremely drunk self in a revolutionary war uniform flipping off Goerge Washington behind their back and he’s just trying his best to ignore the fact that ever happened

- He’s honest, he tells them the truth but says they need to keep it quiet otherwise he’ll probably get in trouble

- Takes the book from them and most likely tries to burn it so no one else can see his stupid antics as a teenager

- Creepy twins are one of his top fears and he always knew something would be off with them, he just really feels like his fears have been justified even more so through them doing this

2p England:

- He’s never really had any photos of himself taken minus when some of the first cameras were ever made so the very few he has are quite shared around and known

- No one ever really questioned him on it before, he tries to assure them it’s just a coincidence that the look the same and immortals and countries can’t possibly exist

- Points out things that are different between them in an attempt to prove it’s not him, like how he had freckles but they most likely point out he’s probably wearing make up nowadays, he just ends up being a stuttering mess

- Eventually just says “Well, must be off now, have important classes to teach” even if it’s at the end of the day and he rushes home and hopes he didn’t seem suspicious. He definitely seemed suspicious.

2p Canada:

- He got mistaken for one of the first forms of modern cryptids since he’s extremely tall and barely ever comes out of his house in the woods and is in a cloak whenever he does and it got put in a history book due to the panic that it caused

- “Both.” No hesitation, that’s all he says before leaving the room to go do something else.

- If they ask him any other questions when they next meet, he’ll answer as bluntly and with as little hesitation as the first because he doesn’t care if people find out as long as he’s left to his own devices

- Really just wants to nap, getting recognized is something that he hates a lot even though it’s the first time it’s happened

2p France:

- They most likely found a painting of him about to get guillotined to which he mostly just shudders at the memory and says it’s just someone who looks like him from the past

- They can question him but raising 2p Canada and sometimes 2p America made him immune to the childish annoyance tactics like repeating the question over and over again they may attempt to pull

- He wouldn’t be concerned if they asked around to anyone else because he knows they would just be told that they have an overactive imagination and someone just so happened to look like him

- If they point out the scar on his neck, he tells them he was once threatened for his money and the attacker got vicious

2p China:

- He’s absolutely everywhere. If someone were to look in most old Chinese photos and even some movies and they’d find him somewhere in it

- “Yep, that right there is me. I’m an almost 4000-year-old personified country that decided to pose in pictures every now and again because why not? The highlight of my LONG long long long long life was being an actor in various movies”

- He knows that no one is going to take them seriously if they decide to tell anyone about it so he’ll be so honest that it sounds like he’s being sarcastic but he isn’t

- He’ll go tell people with them if they threaten to “spill his secret” or however they may phrase is, he does not care in the slightest

2p Russia:

- He’s written quite a few books under a penname with himself as the photo so people knew him but never really connected it with him

- He’ll deny anything that they ask him until they begin to question the books in which he can get kind of defensive and also quite passionate about his working because their meanings are very important to him

- Slips up and says he did write the books in which he akwardly tries to say it was a slip of the tongue and he really regrets saying what he said as soon as he realized this was him admitting it

- Tries to make a deal with them both so they won’t tell anyone, he is willing to do anything to keep it a secret because he knows the amount of trouble he could get in for having people know

[blisslilywrites]

Hello. You're good at it. You continue in the same spirit:) The scenario about how Hanamiya, Seto, Hara, Furuhashi, Akashi, Aomine, Kise read one book together with the s/o. Please. I congratulate you on the past holidays. I hope you've had a good rest.)

A/N: hellooo thank you so much for reading! ♡

KISE RYOUTA

“Ryouta! Let’s get this over with so we can go home!” Your voice echoed throughout the classroom.

“Ehhhh Y/N-cchi, I am listening!”

“I doubt it. Gosh, you read magazines when it’s all about you but can’t read a book? Read the book, READ IT.” The classroom became quiet when your boyfriend fixed his eyes upon the pages you were reading. Both of you were just the ones in the classroom. Well, it was a punishment for being loud in class. How did it happen?

You were discussing something at the back of your English class, then your teacher scolded you, “You can’t go home without reading the book and reporting it to me!” Yeah, it was hell for the both of you.

You continued reading to where you had left, you were able to comprehend each and every sentence but the silence your partner had made you felt different. You were harsh with him earlier, and so to replace the harshness, you kissed his cheek.

“Y-Y/N! W-what are you—,” He was surprised, but not as bewildered as you. Apparently your cheeks turned brighter red than his, “U–uhmmm, to lift up the spirit!”

Now silence had filled the classroom once again, this time it was not because of reading. Both of you weren’t even able to fix your gazes on the paper.

“Then.. Kiss me again,”

You coughed, “W–what are you saying! Let’s get back to work!”

“Ehhh you told me it’s to lift up my spirit-ssu! I couldn’t understand the book but when you kissed me it’s like all the words came running through my mind. I can understand it now!”

“What an opportunist!” You damned, but then you found yourself kissing his cheek once again.

The day ended with the two of you reporting to the teacher based on what you read. He answered every question right.

And when the two of you were walking to go home, “Y/N, let’s read again tomorrow.”

A reading with a kiss.

AOMINE DAIKI

You were lying on the couch reading your favorite book and listening to your boyfriend’s complaints. 

“What’s so good about that book anyway?”

“It’s a good book if you bothered to read anything other than your gravure magazines.”

“Hey I do read things other than my magazines.”

“Oh really?” you said, raising an eyebrow. “Prove it then.”

His eyes glittered at the challenge. Standing up and walking over to you, he plucked the book from your hands before settling down next to you.

He started reading and unconsciously put an arm around you.

You stared at the sight before you with mild amusement. You figured it was probably just a matter of time before he gave up. Until then though, why not just enjoy the moment since this probably won't be happening again soon.

After a while, you were sitting in his lap as both you and him quietly read the book.

Every once in a while, he broke the silence to ask you what a particular word or phrase meant.

There were many times when you turned the page and Aomine would stop you as he hasn’t finished reading yet. 

Every time this happened, you’d look at him and see the intense concentration etched across his face. Then quietly, you’d think to yourself He's actually reading. Properly reading.

You weren’t gonna complain though. If he wants to spend the afternoon reading with you, you sure as hell weren’t gonna stop him.

You didn’t know how it happened nor did you know what was happening exactly.

All you knew was that you were quite comfortable.

By evening, the two of you had completed the book. 

You were honestly pretty surprised he made it through the entire book.

Just as the thought crossed your mind, you heard a loud snore coming from right behind you.

You let out a small sigh.

Well, it was nice while it lasted.

Turning to see his sleeping, snoring face, you smiled and took out your phone to snap a picture before setting the book down and snuggling up against him.

Book-reading was your thing and sleeping lazily was his.

HANAMIYA MAKOTO

“Hey, baka.” Hanamiya moved to the seat next to you, alighting a book to your desk you had for your elbows to stand and to play your phone leveled with your eyes. You felt your boyfriend rushed over your side, but that wasn’t a reason for you to stop what you were playing. Yep, you wouldn’t waste a prize just because of your bossy, sadist boyfriend—

“Give me that,” He grabbed your phone forcely out of your possession, diverting your attention to the certain attention seeker.

“Makoto-kun!” You complained, eyes squinching while attempting to grab your phone from his long arms.

“Y/N, I think you’ve had enough.”

“Well I don’t! Will you please just give me my thing?" You forced your way to get what you wanted, yet not long enough you surrendered already, crossing your arms in annoyance.

“I’ll give it to you after. For now..” He hid your phone inside his pocket, then opened the book he just brought. “I was told your grades were getting lower because of your meaningless games. Y/N, I know you’re stupid but you just can’t throw your education away.”

“Hey! I'm not trying to throw my education! It's just that.. well..” You averted your gaze from his to the front as your face slowly turned into light pink. The words wouldn't escape from your lips, yet Hanamiya managed to catch the unsaid words just fine.

“You don't understand the lessons, do you? Y/N, just how stupid are you? You could’ve asked.” By your boyfriend’s words, he persuaded you to read and study the lessons. Though he was only there to watch, telling you that you should learn on your own nonetheless he would constantly check how you progressed time by time.

AKASHI SEIJURO

You skimmed the shelves of the library, running your hands along the spines of the dusty books. Barely anyone came to this library anymore. You had to admit you haven't been coming here often either. With all the work you've got, it's hard to make time for yourself and your much-needed relaxation. It’s such a shame though because this library was one of the best places to just sit down and take a break from the world. And now here you were, scanning the titles for one to open and start reading. So far though, none of the books seem worth reading. They all just lacked a certain appeal. Sighing, you gave up with this section and walked over to one of the tables where a young man was sitting. He was reading a rather old-looking book when he looked up and caught sight of you.

“Still haven't found something to read y/n?” Akashi asked with a bemused smile before turning back to his book.

A playful frown appeared on your face. You moved to sit next to him and immediately started fidgeting all over the place. You turned your head to look at the book he was reading and a few lines snagged your interest.

‘Hey that looks familiar,’ you thought to yourself.

You leaned forward to properly see what he was reading.

The pages of the book were yellow and frayed. Small ink blotches dotted the paper here and there.

Akashi noticed you examining his book and turned to you with a raised eyebrow.

You blushed slightly but quickly regained your composure.

“Umm what book is that?” you asked, pointing to the book.

He showed you the cover and you immediately recognized it.

It was the book you were assigned to read in last year's English class. You didn't think much of it at first until you started reading it and became awestruck by it.

Nervously, you asked him if you could read it with him. He gave you a curious look before obliging.

And there you were, sitting in an almost empty library with Akashi reading one of your favorite books. You couldn’t ask for a better day than this.

FURUHASHI KOJIRO

At the very corner of the library, it was where you always sit; studying endlessly for an exam and sometimes, you would just read out of boredom. You would spend the whole day reading at the school library, and your boyfriend Furuhashi, inclined to bring you food amid its prohibition. Though the thing is, he’s in the library committee, it’s not that he uses it as an advantage, but he could always watch you everytime you read.

“Here you go,” Furuhashi placed a drink on your table for the 100th time, you laid your gaze upon the grape juice that was covered in moist, and redirected your sight to your special someone.

“Kojiro, thank you.” He blushed for your gratefulness, hid his fluttered expression and took a seat in front of you.

“What are you reading?” He asked.

“Flowers,”

“Oh yeah? What does it say about you?”

“I never said it’s about me. I said flowers.”

“And you are one,” A blush crept upon your features. You shared him your book about flowers and gardening as the two of you read together.

That wasn’t just the time of you together. Every time you read at your usual place in the library, he would come to join you. He complimented you every now and then.

SETO KENTARO

“Ken-chan, you promised to teach me. Wake up!” You pushed him to his waking yet he completely ignored. He snored, purposely.

“Ken-chan!” You kicked his chair for once, and you succeeded in bringing the lazy boy to his annoyance.

“I’m too lazy, Y/N-chan. You can do it on your own,” You spared him a gloomy smile, turned around and almost walked away when he caught your arm, causing you to return your footsteps to his side.

“Hey I told you to do it on your own. Where were you going?”

“Since you won’t help me, I’m going to ask the president.”

“Heya, don’t be silly. Come here,” He grabbed the textbook from your hands and placed it on the desk, he ordered you to sit down and started teaching you. 

You smiled at the thought of having a smart boyfriend to teach you when in need. He’d be always pushing you away when you want to learn more because of his laziness, but when you are to ask anyone else other than him, he’d be pretty jealous and will start teaching you without hesitations.

HARA KAZUYA

You and Hara arrived at the library safely, you made your way to search for the books you had been wanting to read whereas Hara immediately slouched his way to the tables and buried his head completely. He didn’t really want to go when you asked him, but as convincing you were to him, you were able to break his disinclination; though apathy followed him along the way.

“Ahhh! I can’t stand boredom!” Your seatmate bellowed, lifting his head just as you sat down adjacent to him. You ignored, settling the book onto the table.

“Y/N dear! Let’s go home!” The pages of the book were in delicate touch as you began reading a compilation of Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey.

“Y/N darling? Yohoooooo,” You were trying to focus, not letting yourself be distracted by someone you knew whiny.

“Y/N talk to me pleaseeee,”

“Y/N I love you--,”

“UHHH KAZUYA WILL YOU PLEASE SHUT UP?!” You shout that led him to his silence. It wasn’t just him who got affected by your loud voice but also the people surrounding the area.

“Fine,” he scoffed. He became quiet for awhile, glancing at anywhere near him but the moment he laid his eyes upon the page you were reading, he saw familiar words that caught his attention.

“Hey, isn’t that ancient literature? Why didn’t you tell me!” He smiled and had the book at the center spot for him to be able to read it with you.

Hara didn’t like reading, yet his eyes sparked enthusiasm when it was about ancient literature, his favorite subject. He would constantly spout trivias and lots of things concerning the subject.

The next day he asked you to go to the library with him.

[streetsofsecretswegone]

@pcplarstreet​   said   :   Benny & Cass

Under the cut because long.

Disagreements:

Who is more likely to raise their voice? Cassandra's frustration with Benny can be activated at the drop of a HAT. And not only is she raising her voice, she is gesturing with her hands in fury.

Who threatens to leave but never actually does? Benny does and Cass is like, "do you think you’re IRREPLACEABLE?” 

Who actually keeps their word and leaves? Benny will go ghost for awhile. Buuut, early in their relationship - Cass isn't afraid to leave either.

Who trashes the house? Cassandra doesn't trash houses, her mother raised her properly. The most she'll do is slam a door, slam a cabinet if she's cooking while simultaneously fussing and that's it. Benny is a gentleman and goes to the junkyard to relieve his frustration.

Do either of them get physical? When they were teens, Cassandra use to smack his cheeks, squeeze his cheeks or smack him upside the head. It was always after he did something corny or dumb.

How often do they argue/disagree? Not regularly, but it's not uncommon. It just varies on topic just as it can vary in severity.

Who is the first to apologize? Benny, with grand gestures to boot! Cassandra lowkey adores getting gifts from him, they go on her station at work.

Sex:

Who is on top? It varies.

Who is on the bottom? I said it varies, damn. Though, if Cassandra could have Benny bottom like....60% of the time, it would be great.

Who has the strangest desires? Define your definition of strange. But Cassandra is more kinky than Benny, while Benny is down for trying anything.

Any kinks? Edging. Pegging. A mommy kink exists. Choking. Cassandra also likes having her toes sucked.😔

Who’s dominant in bed? Let Cass have a little power and she goes nuts with it.

Is head ever in the equation? Yes.

If so, who is better at performing it? Cassandra.

Ever had sex in public? Yes.

Who moans the most? Cassandra.

Who leaves the most marks? I want to say technically Cassandra because it’s not just her taking a little bite of Benny. It’s her leaving scratch mark on his back with her nails. 

Who screams the loudest? Cassandra, on a good night.

Who is the more experienced of the two? They're both very experienced!

Do they ‘fuck’ or ‘make love’? Both.

Rough or soft? Depends on the mood. Depends on if they had a bad argument, too. Make-up sex is a thing with them.

How long do they usually last? This is highly dependent on whether Cassandra allows him to have an orgasm.

Is protection used? Typically.

Does it ever get boring? Honestly, I think it’s Cassandra who keeps it from being boring. Like she will have vanilla sex with her partner for so long until she’s like, “hey, can we try _?” 

Where is the strangest place they’d have sex? At a Christmas Party taking place at her mother’s building. 😰 The sexual tension lingering between them was real. And it was pretty quick 15 minutes.

Family:

Do your muses plan on having children/or have children? Cassandra has been fine with the idea of having three to four kids. She already had little Mario when she and Benny began dating, and she and Benny’s first kid together is an accident. But after that, Cass wouldn’t mind a few more. If so, how many children do your muses want/have? Cass thinks she could have about four, personally. But right now they just have Mario - who is more like Benny's step son. Who is the favorite parent? Benny! Who is the authoritative parent? Cass. Who is more likely to allow the children to have a day off school? Benny, because Cassandra wouldn’t stand for it!  Who lets the children indulge in sweets and junk food when the other isn’t around? Benny, because again Cassandra doesn’t want Mario bouncing off the walls, no.

Who turns up to extra curricular activities to support their children? Cassandra - but to be honest the whole Scozzari family does.

Who goes to parent teacher interviews? Both, Cassandra feels like it provides a good image of how they are as a family unit. Her parents both showed up to parent teacher interviews, and granted her dad was ‘ghetto’ about the whole thing, but. She trusts Benny to be better than her dad.

Who changes the diapers? Cassandra.

Who gets up in the middle of the night to feed the baby? Cassandra - but she will make Benny do it sometimes if she really does not want to leave the bed.

Who spends the most time with the children? I feel like they invest an almost equal amount of time, but Cassandra is there just a bit more due to the differences of she and Benny’s occupation. Who packs their lunch boxes? Cassandra, she’s very prompt about it. Usually shopping for something that Mario can eat by the time she’s on break at work. Who gives their children ‘the talk’? Cassandra does not trust Benny to do it. She’s worried about him using weird phrases, then Mario repeats it on the playground and...no, Cass ain’t having it. Who cleans up after the kids? Cassandra. Who worries the most? Cassandra worries visibly and considerably more than Benny, who is more quiet about his concerns yet takes it in stride. Who are the children more likely to learn their first swear word from? Cassandra. Whether it be from her uttering, fuck in annoyance after getting off the phone, accidentally cutting herself in the kitchen, or losing her other sock/shoe. 

Affection:

Who likes to cuddle? If Benny’s audio dialogue is anything to go by...I’mma say him.

Who is the little spoon? “Hold me would ya? You wore me out.” - Benny Gecko, moments before death.

Who gets naughty in the most inappropriate of places? They are both to blame here.

Who struggles to keep their hands to themself? Both. 

How long can they cuddle until one becomes uncomfortable? About twenty minutes for Cassandra. That, and she knows there’s shit to do in some form or fashion.

Who gives the most kisses? Cassandra because she believes that they can be a good way to distract Benny.

What is their favorite non-sexual activity? Benny likes to cook for Cass on date nights! And Cassandra likes to see entertainment at The Tops with him.

Where is their favorite place to cuddle? Cassandra prefers the couch.

Who is more likely to playfully grope the other? Cass has an addiction to playfully groping/slapping Benny’s ass when the kids cannot be seen.

How often do they get time to themselves? It's when Cassandra has a set babysitter for Mario, or if Mario's with her parents. Otherwise that little boy just LOVES to be in the presence of both of them.

Sleeping:

Who snores? Benny.

If both do, who snores the loudest? Benny.

Do they share a bed or sleep separately? Share a bed.

If they sleep together, do they cozy up together or lay far apart? It varies. Cass doesn't mind being held by Benny in her sleep, but if she gets overheated she needs her space. This is why she can’t cuddle for hours upon hours. Who talks in their sleep? Sometimes its Cass. Sometimes if you wake her up while she’s sleeping she’ll say nonsensical things for a few minutes.

What do they wear to bed? Their nightwear. Duh. 🙄🙄🙄 Are either of your muses insomniacs? No.

Can sleeping pills be found by the bedside? I would say that’s a maybe for Benny. Do they wrap their limbs around each other or just lay side by side? Both, it’s time dependent. Cassandra's leg may cross over Benny's. Who wakes up with bed hair? Benny, Cassandra has her hair in a protective state. Who wakes up first? Benny, usually. Who prepares breakfast in bed for the other? ...yeah, no. It has to be Benny's birthday or something. What is their favorite sleeping position? Benny likes to be the little spoon. Fallout New Vegas said so. I’m just saying the truth, don’t shoot the messenger. And Cassandra really does like wrapping her arms around things while in bed, but usually it’s her pillow she is cuddling with. Human skin gets too hot. Who hogs the sheets? Cassandra will sometimes remove sheets. Do they set an alarm each night? Yes. Can a television be found in their bedroom? No. Who has nightmares? Cassandra is prone to some vivid nightmares. Who has ridiculous dreams? Benny. Who sprawls out and takes up most of the bed? Mario if he's crawled into the bed! Which is not uncommon for the kid to do, at all. Who makes the bed? Cassandra. What time is bed time? Not too early, but not too late either.  Any routines/rituals before bed? Shower, brush their teeth, Cassandra tends to her hair before bed, washes off her make up...makes sure Mario is also brushing his teeth and is tucked into bed comfortably. Who’s the grumpiest when they wake up? Cass.

Work:

Who is the busiest? Benny on default, though weekends can be hell for Cass with the amount of clients she has coming into the beauty shop. Who rakes in the highest income? Benny. Are any of your muses unemployed? Nope. Who takes the most sick days? Benny can afford to do so, while if Cassandra does that she is missing out on money. That and Cassandra hates being off of work sick, she has nothing to do! Who is more likely to turn up late to work? Bennnnnnnny? But he's so important it doesn’t even matter like that, or have real consequences. Who sucks up to their boss? Benny's his own boss and Cassandra tries to be cordial with hers which doesn’t always work because the guy is kind of a shithead. What are their jobs? Benny is a casino owner and Cassandra is a hair stylist. Who stresses the most? In regards to work - neither. Do your muses enjoy or despise their careers/occupations? They enjoy them. Are your muses financially stable? Very.

Home:

Who does the washing? Cassandra, she doesn’t trust Benny to know what he’s doing like that.

Who takes out the trash? Benny or Mario.

Who does the ironing? Cassandra.

Who does the cooking? It switches between Cassandra and Benny doing that for one another.

Who is more likely to burn the house down just trying? Neither! They know what they’re doing.

Who is messier? They’re both clean people.

Who leaves the toilet roll empty? I feel like Benny has done that in a moment of carelessness. 

Who leaves their dirty clothes on the floor? Cassandra will cuss his ass out for that glmbgfvbg so really it’s Mario who does it because he’s still a lil baby.

Who forgets to flush the toilet? Mario.

Who is the prankster around the house? Mario and Benny collaborate on pranks sometimes.

Who loses the car keys when it comes time to go somewhere? Cassandra has overlooked her car keys on multiple occasions.

Who mows the lawn? Benny, or - Benny pays someone to do that shit. Really, I just can’t imagine him mowing the lawn.

Who answers the telephone? Either.

Who does the vacuuming? Cassandra.

Who does the groceries? Cassandra, just because she’s prone to making quick grocery runs in-between clients if there’s enough of a spacious gap between them.

Who takes the longest to shower? Both if they’re fucking in there.

Who spends the most time in the bathroom? Cassandra hands down. 

Miscellaneous:

Is money a problem? Benny is a gangster, Cassandra can really make bank in a week from doing hair. Together? Money is never a problem.

How many cars do they own? I’m sure Benny has more than one car, but Cassandra has two cars of her own before she was even dating Benny. One was a fucking truck while the other is a more smaller, more decent car.

Do they own their home or do they rent? Own.

Do they live near the coast or deep in the countryside? Now personally, I imagine that they live in the city considering Benny's occupation and Cass is very accustomed to that life as well. However, she would not object to them getting a vacation home in the countryside.

Do they live in the city or in the country? ^^

Do they enjoy their surroundings? Of course!

What’s their song? In Benny's perspective it's Poison by Bell Biv DeVoe and in Cassandra's perspective it's A Dozen Roses by Monica.

What do they do when they’re away from each other? Benny does his...Benny-related things. He works, he works out, he murders couriers. Cassandra does hair, she mothers Mario, she hangs out with her friends.

Where did they first meet? At a Gecko/Scozzari family dinner hosted by Sal’s then-living aunt, the two of them were very young at the time.

How did they first meet? They were all seated at the table, Cassandra was across from Benny. She didn't pay attention to him. Afterwards her dad kept hanging out with Benny and Cass h a t e d seeing his little white ass on her stoop.

Who spends the most money when out shopping? Benny because he has to floss and feel good about his life. Cassandra isn't just going to use Benny's cash for her own purposes, she has her own!

Who’s more likely to flash their assets? Both. Cassandra learned about the art of flashing from her parents.

Who finds it amusing when the other trips over? Cassandra, depending on the context of the fall.

Any mental issues? No. Who’s terrified of bugs? Baby spiders to medium sized ones? Cassandra can deal with. Large spiders  and centipedes? She hates them. Who kills the spiders around the house? Benny, sometimes Cass. Their favorite place? Countryside! Who pays the bills? Benny handles it! Do they have any fears for their future? Cassandra worries about Benny getting shot, their kids getting kidnapped or killed, or assassination attempts on her life. But, that’s just mob shit, she guesses. They’re constant fears, but they also become numb because this has been her life forever. Who’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner? Benny! Who uses up all of the hot water? Cassandra, she needs to have relaxing baths sometimes to get her thoughts in order. Who’s the tallest? Benny!! Cassandra is short like her mom, standing at 5'4. Who’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other? Cassandra. Who wanders around in their underwear? They have to set an example for Mario! They just can't be roaming around in their underwear! Who sings the loudest when singing along to the radio? Cassandra gets into it, especially if its a song she grew up with. If Benny tries - she tells him to stop because some songs look kind of weird coming from a middle aged white man. What do they tease each other about? Cassandra teases Benny for trying to look like Dean Martin and other classic Italian singers in the present day. Benny teases Cassandra for speaking with her hands and fingers just like how Sal does. Who is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times? I think both their fashion senses can be a bit on the strong side. Do they have mutual friends? Cassandra gets along with Swank, knows Tommy on a deep level from when they were kids. Leah has no interest in getting to know Benny. Who crushed first? Benny. Any alcohol or substance related problems? Nope. Who is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am? Benny if they had a bad argument. Who swears the most? Cassandra. She's been cursing since she was a year old - it's a hard habit to break.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Daffodil

(A Spicyhoney ‘The Village’ AU)

Note: As a warning, this chapter contains a panic attack and implications of past attempted sexual assault. Nothing explicit, but I like to keep people aware.

The story so far:

Crimson

Yellow

Blue

Blush

Sallow

Russet

Spice

Whiteout

Sable

Blue on Black

Midnight

Ebony Falling

Golden

Magenta

Marigold

Coquelicot

~~*~~

Read ‘Daffodil ’ on AO3

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Read More Here!

~~*~~

There was something tickling his nasal bone.

It was annoying enough to disturb the cozy warmth of his sleep and persistent besides. Rus scrunched his face to no avail; it vanished for a moment only to return, twice as aggravating as before. Ignoring it was equally useless, too insistently irritating to dismiss. When it didn’t stop, Rus tried to slap it away and only managed to smack himself in the face.

That woke him proper, along with the chuff of nearby laughter that finally persuaded him to open a socket and glare balefully at his husband. Who turned out to be the source of his annoyance, using a corner of one of their furry bedcovers to torment him. His grin was unperturbed by Rus’s irritation and honestly, how had Rus allowed himself to fall in love with such a cruel tormentor? A question answered by the light kiss that Edge dropped on his nasal bone to chase away the lingering tickle, making warmth swell in Rus’s soul.

Well, so long as he was awake…Rus stretched with a groan, unashamedly allowing the blankets to slip down to expose bare bones in silent offering, “again?”

He was already deliciously sore; they’d made love twice more that morning, and a third serving might be considered gluttonous. Rus didn’t much care, he felt rather like a starving man abruptly given a feast and he was happy to indulge. Even in the village newlyweds often secreted themselves away for the first few days before reappearing in public and he’d seen enough new brides and grooms giving their spouses adoring gazes tinted with blushes to guess how they’d spent their time.

Thinking of time, Rus had no idea of the hour, how could he spending his days inside a cave, but he suspected it was late enough to horrify any sensible person. Such a shame that there was no one sensible about and if his husband wanted to continue the feast, Rus was of a mind to greedily join him.

Sadly, Edge only chuckled and shook his head. He did lean in for a proper kiss, gentle and lingering. It was only then that Rus realized that Edge was dressed for the day and the new blush that heated his cheek bones was for his shameless assumption that Edge would forgo his duties to layabout in bed with him. Not that Edge seemed to be trying to urge him to rise. Indeed, when he broke from their kiss, he leaned over to collect a steaming cup from the floor, handing it to Rus. Who nearly choked to discover at his first thirsty sip that it wasn’t the sweet leaf tea he was growing accustomed to but the bland thinness of slippery elm.

"thank you," Rus said, embarrassed. He’d nearly forgotten, hadn't even thought of the leaves in his pack. Edge seemed to be taking him at his word that there could be no children and it was guiltily warming that he would help Rus take precautions.

The tea was cool enough for him to drink it quickly, grimacing at the taste, but before Rus could set the cup aside, Edge tapped it lightly and said a word in his own tongue. When Rus only looked at him in confusion, he did it again, patiently, saying the word slow and precise.

It finally dawned on Rus that Edge meant for him to repeat it and he did, haltingly. And again, until he was managing it more or less the same way Edge said it.

“but does that mean cup or tea?” Rus asked, confused. He held up the small cup and repeated the word and Edge nodded.

“Cup,” he agreed.

“all right, then. cup,” Rus repeated the word wonderingly, rolling it in his mouth like a sweet. “what’s the word for tea, then?”

He hadn’t supposed that his first language lesson would be while he was sitting up in their bed, bare beneath the blankets and with Edge’s scent still clinging to him, but Rus took to it with earnest, echoing every word Edge offered and confirming the meaning. By the end, he managed a full sentence, though from Edge's smothered laughter, he was less than successful.

Patiently, Edge repeated it himself, listening as Rus awkwardly curled his tongue around the unfamiliar syllables until Rus could ask for tea with cautious confidence.

“can i have a cup of tea, please,” Rus said for perhaps the hundredth time, and this time Edge’s laughter was pure delight.

“Yes!” He gathered Rus into an embrace, blankets and all, and nuzzled happily at his cervical vertebrae where they peeked out above the blankets.

“wonderful,” Rus said, squirming and giggling from the ticklish touch, “i’d love some real tea to get this taste out of my mouth.”

As it turned out, he didn’t get his tea until some while later, but Rus was too distracted to care.

~~*~~

After that, whenever they did anything together, Edge would teach him the words for it and with far more patience than the schoolmaster back in the village had shown when he taught his pupils. Certainly with less thrashings. Edge never grew upset or frustrated whenever Rus was confused. His patience was endless, and he would only slowly repeat his words until Rus could imitate them easily as well as put them together properly. At first, Rus worried he wouldn’t be able to manage it and then what would they do? Edge did well enough communicating to Rus when needs be, but what of his people? Rus desperately wished to speak with the Dog family himself when next they met, to ask their names and to thank them for the kindness they’d shown him.

But the only language he knew was the one he’d been raised with and he’d struggled with that; as a child he’d often earned the teacher’s wroth when he was unable to recite his schoolwork. More than once he’d stood before the class, shamefully unable to choke out his spelling lessons and trying to stifle embarrassed tears as his classmates jeered at him.

The only thing that saved his knuckles from punishing raps from a ruler was his sickliness and eventually, Blue stopped sending him to the classroom, preferring to teach Rus himself whenever he had the time. Blue had always assured him that he was clever, but then, of course he would. His brother was always a bit overindulgent, or so Rus had been led to believe.

If so, then Edge was doubly so, offering smothering kisses and extravagant hugs whenever Rus managed a tricky phrase, sometimes lifting him clear off his feet in his delight. His happiness was contagious, filling Rus to the brim with joy of his own and it made him even more determined to learn.

After a few days of memorizing and repeating by rote, it occurred to Rus that some of the language of the woods was not that far removed from his own. If he considered a phrase for a bit, then sometimes he could puzzle his way through without Edge translating. It was as if the language clicked, a key turning a lock in his head, suddenly he understood, in a way he’d only been mimicking before.

Now when he asked for tea, it wasn’t simply speaking the words, but truly asking and the thrill it gave him was a wonder.

It did cause some interesting moments though, certainly nothing like his lessons in school. Edge often taught him words in the mornings before they rose, expanding on the theme throughout the day. The first morning it began with tea and into cooking words and the next, it was about their painting.

“please kiss me,” Rus repeated dutifully on the third morning without knowing the meaning of his words and he gasped as Edge did, thoroughly and with vigor. When he drew away, Rus was panting, dazed and tingling with warmth. But not so much that he couldn’t hastily repeat it and Edge only laughed and did, pushing Rus back into the soft furs, exploring the dark softness of his mouth with a gentle tongue.

“that’s called kissing,” Rus told him breathlessly when Edge finally drew away. It didn’t hurt to share bits of his own language, he decided, any which way they could communicate better would surely be worth the effort.

“Kizing,” Edge repeated obediently and demonstrated his knowledge with enthusiasm. He was already fully dressed, having gone to check the traps earlier before waking Rus for this lesson, and now his hands, cooled from the outdoors, were starting to wander as if they had a sentience of their own. Rus squealed at the chill as they sneaked beneath his nightshirt to fondle his bones and playfully batted them away.

“no, no, no,” Rus scolded, even as he squirmed to avoid those determined touches. “you’re meant to be teaching me. however can i learn with these sorts of distractions?” Not that he minded in the slightest, but at least one of them needed to pretend at some control.

But instead of drawing away, Edge took hold of his wrists, pinning them to the blankets above Rus’s head as he straddled him. Surely his growl was meant to be teasing, they’d been playing all morning, but to have his hands trapped made Rus’s breath catch. Suddenly Edge’s weight pinning him down was no longer pleasing, it was heavy, confining, forcing him down into the bedclothes. His trousers were rough against Rus’s bare femurs where his nightshirt had ridden up, and Rus couldn’t escape, he couldn’t move. Terror grappled at Rus’s soul, rising sour-hot in his throat and thoughtlessly, he began to struggle, whimpering out a frantic, “let me go! please!”

Some distant, bitter expectation rose, that this would be the moment everything turned, and now he would only be able to lay here while rough hands moved over him, bruising him, hurting him as they took what they wanted. To be abruptly released, the weight holding him down gone in an instant, was so unexpected that it gave Rus’s panic the lead, sending him tumbling heavily from the piled blankets and furs to the floor, skittering backwards until the wall stopped his flight. Rus could only lean there with his shoulders against the hard stone, panting in great gulps of air, his soul pulsing frantically and every breath edged with a whimper.

Sense returned with rude abruptness and Rus blinked to see Edge was still kneeling on their bed, unmoving. His hands, hands that had never hurt him, that had given him such pleasure, such tender care, were resting emptily in his lap and oh, his face, his expression was so pained that Rus ached in return to see it.

Fool, he told himself with stinging fury, such a fool. Edge wasn’t the one who’d hurt him, never. He’d only ever protected Rus and here he was acting as if Edge was some sort of...of…

Like he was some sort of monster.

Rus swallowed hard, again, but he couldn’t swallow back the ashen taste of his own shame as he crept back to the bed, their bed. Miserably, he began, “i’m so sor—"

Only to be interrupted as Edge said, sharply, “no, no, no.”

Tears burned in Rus’s sockets to think Edge was angry with him, as well he should be, Rus’s reaction was appalling and…but Edge only reached out to him slowly, every movement deliberate as he carefully took Rus’s hand in his own. His fingers were warm, soothing as they gently traced the slender bones that led to his wrist.

“No sorry, no,” Edge told him, quietly, and something else, in his own language and Rus didn’t quite understand. Except that he did, he realized suddenly, the words clearing like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. Not a perfect translation, but the gist of it was clear.

“sorry to frighten you.”

Hesitantly, picking his words with care, Rus told him, “not you. not of you.”

Edge nodded, “not me.” His fingers lightly touched Rus’s wrists where he’d gripped and he asked, gruffly, “I hurt you?”

“no,” Rus shook his head fiercely. “no, hurt.” He switched to his own language, his few words in Edge’s failing him. “you didn’t hurt me, you’ve never hurt me.” Only moments before Rus had been trying to escape him and now he couldn’t bear being so far away from Edge. He shuffled forward on his knees and wrapped his arms around Edge, burying his face into his tunic to stifle his tears. The arms that closed around him were too tentative, holding him loosely and Rus tightened his own grip until his arms ached, holding on fiercely as Edge’s embrace slowly firmed, pulling him in.

“k’uhah,” Rus murmured hopefully, “my soul.”

Immediately, Edge repeated it back to him, husky soft against the side of his skull, along with a string of others, glimmering like jewels, words that he didn’t yet know mingled with ones he did, love and soul and mine.

He couldn’t tell Edge yet what had happened, wasn’t sure he would even if he had the words. He wasn’t sure he needed to. Edge held him for a long time, his strong arms keeping Rus close. The embrace he’d tried escaping from now filled him with warmth and safety, and Rus wanted to glut himself in this perfect moment.

I love him, Rus thought, a touch helplessly, then aloud, a secret that needn’t be kept. “i love you.”

“love you, k’uhah,” Edge whispered. He cupped Rus’s skull with a gentle hand, holding him, and Rus only snuggled all the closer, willing the moment to last, at least a little longer.

But he was also making a mental list of words he wanted to learn next.

~~*~~

tbc

[cyanidefilledcandy]

Decided to try the ballet class again and actually made it through the entire session this time! 😄✌🏾

Truthfully though, I am struggling....and I don't mean physically (though that IS another annoyance and a big reason I couldn't finish last time). It's mostly mental though.

A big part of it is concentration and memorizing the moves, which has always been an issue when it came to me and ballet, but the older I've gotten the worse it has become. (And yes. Even when I started up again in my early 20s, it had gotten a LOT worse.....and in everything; not just ballet. So it's not something I can simply chalk up to age.) I don't know why, but it's like when she's explaining things and giving advice, it's like my mind just kind of blanks out completely. I can't even say it's wandering because there's nothing else on it besides how I'm trying to listen and it's just like my brain isn't processing any of it. :/

I saw a post on Reddit once and someone mentioned Brain Fog as a symptom of mental illness, you never hear about. And I know if it sounds cliche' these days, but honestly.....I felt so seen. And not alone. And not.....dumb.

A huge huge insecurity of mine is appearing stupid. I know for a fact that I'm not (in fact, when the [redacted] cult tried to recruit me, they mentioned my high IQ). But as a teen, I started getting depersonalization really badly, where I just always felt like I was in a dream. After my grandmother passed away, it's like my mind had woken up or came back to reality, but now it was in a constant fog.....a fog that's continued to day and has only gotten thicker. A fog where I forgot basic grammar and math rules, even though I legitimately used them everyday. A fog that causes me to stutter and forget words while speaking (why I've always preferred writing to speaking). A fog that straight up made me forget how talk a couple of times (and no that's not an exaggeration....I literally could not form words. A fog that got so thick to the point where a few years, I literally could not form thoughts.... something I still haven't fully recovered from.

Sorry. I went kind of on a tangent there....but it's so frustrating that this constant Brain Fog is keeping me from doing the things I love; not just dance, but drawing. Writing. Crafting... And I don't know what to do about it. I don't even know the cause, if I'm being completely honest. I've wracked my brain trying to at least get to the root of why, so that MAYBE healing is possible, but....

Another big factor is just my frustration in myself. I'm not an absolute beginner in ballet, but I've felt that way ever since I've started taking ballet as an adult. My teacher would go through simple steps and phrases and I just felt like a moron because I'd either forgotten what they were or just couldn't find them in my brain at all.

I know in reality, I've only done three years of ballet....and even that's pushing it...

It was an elective class (in place of PE) at my middle schools. 30 minutes to an hour a day, sometimes 5 days a week....sometimes only 3. And we never stayed on ballet long (maybe a month and half each school year) because my classmates were more interested in modern/hip-hop. So in truth, those three years, I was not properly trained to say I am knowledgeable in ballet.

I know that logically.

However, my Perfectionist nature hinders me as always....because I feel like I don't even know the basics. Because I feel like I should be able to get through a beginner class with no issue. Because everytime I make a mistake, my mind screams at me "This isn't hard! Why don't you know this?! It's a fucking plie'! You should know how to properly do one by now! You could do this a decade ago with no problem! What the actual fuck?!"

So, I get frustrated and immediately want to quit. (Have always been someone who would rather not try, than to try and fail. Like literally if I thought I would fail a test in highschool, I literally would just not even try and accept a flat 0 than to try and fail.)

And then also, I'm frustrated with myself because I'm over 30 and should be above all of this. It's like I'm going backwards in life. Even as a kid I understood that perfection wasn't a thing, in art, beauty, or anything else. And though I had my moments (such as having a full crying fit the first time I got a B on a PROGRESS REPORT), I've definitely gotten worse.

Besides my stomach (which though self conscious, I still fully accepted), I've never given a damn about my looks or what others thought of it. Now it's constantly on my mind.

I used to draw and draw and didn't give a damn because I liked doing it. Now, I'm terrified to even pick up a pencil because I know it's not going to be what I picture in my head.....and I'm just going to fuck up the perspective. Or the coloring. Or not get the pose exactly right. Or....

I'm just so sick of letting fear and brain fog holding me back from my creativity. I miss moving and creating. Doesn't have to be perfect. Doesn't have to get a ton of likes or comments. I just miss doing things. And with dance.....it used to be the one thing I could do where I legitimately didn't care about my body size or how I looked. I would dance randomly in the grocery.

I just want to get back to being that person.

*sigh* This wasn't where I was intended this blog post to go... (Word vomit, I suppose.)

......my point doesn't even make sense anymore, so....fuck it....

I just want to get out of this fog in my head and back to moving and creating without thinking. 😕

[waitineedaname]

Brunch Dates and Basketball

Here’s my secret santa gift for @toneelspeler​!!! I hope you like it and have a good holiday season <3

Also on AO3

---

“If I read the phrase ‘hypotonic solution’ again, I’m going to throw my book out of the window.”

“You know, if you’d actually listened to the lecture instead of texting your boyfriend - who you’d seen just an hour earlier, I’ll remind you - you might not have to review it so much.”

Isak sent Sana a sour look from across the table and finished scribbling down a sentence from his textbook. “You’re so mean. Aren’t study partners supposed to help you?”

“I am helping you.” She said with a slight smirk as she tapped on her laptop. “I’m emailing you a webpage on hypotonic solutions right now. It should explain it for you. Happy?”

Isak grumbled just for the sake of grumbling and clicked to his email. He opened up the link and let out a huge sigh. “You’re a lifesaver, Sanasol.”

“I know.” She shut her book and stood up. “Tea break?”

All too eager to have an excuse to stop glaring at his biology textbook, Isak followed at her heels to his tiny kitchen. Ever since she’d found out he was utterly useless when it came to making tea, she’d taken it upon herself to teach him - even going so far as to buying him a kettle for his birthday and convincing him to use it every time they got together to study.

(Honestly, Isak didn’t really mind. He’d come to realize tea wasn’t that bad when brewed properly, and his and Even’s collection of tea bags had quadrupled since Sana’s efforts started.)

Sana watched him dip his tea bag in and out of his mug until she was satisfied he knew what he was doing and took a sip of her own tea. They were both quiet for a moment, enjoying their tea and each other’s company, before she spoke up.

“So,” She said, somehow managing to look down her nose at Isak despite being a foot shorter him, “What do you think of double dates?”

Isak frowned, not following her drift. “I think… they exist?”

“No, I mean-” She huffed. “What do you think of going on one? You and Even, and me and Yousef.”

Isak stared at her in dumb silence and a grin slowly formed on his face. “Sana! What happened to you?”

“What do you mean?” She shifted on her feet, clearly embarrassed.

“You’ve gotten all soft! I knew there was a romantic somewhere under that hard shell. Seems like Yousef’s had a good effect on you.” He teased with a wink.

She sputtered for a moment, gesturing as she tried to come up with an excuse before settling on a huff. “Whatever. You’re the sappy one, living the domestic life with your boyfriend.”

“Yeah,” He grinned dopily, completely unfazed by her attempt at teasing him, “I’ve got it pretty good, huh.”

“Ugh.” She put her mug down in a dramatic display of annoyance. “I take back my invitation, you are not going on a double date with us.”

“No, Sana, wait!” Isak whined, stopping her before she could pretend to stomp out of the room. “I’d love to. Okay? I’ll have Even text Yousef, he loves planning this kind of thing.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, as if deliberating whether or not to allow it. “...Fine. Your invitation is given back.” She rolled her eyes at his excited fist pump. “Come on, you need to get back to studying solutions.”

“Do I really?” He complained, dreading the sight of his notes again.

“Yes, you do really.” She grabbed his arm and dragged him down the hall, a smile tugging at her lips. “I’m not having you say I didn’t help when you still only get a five.”

---

The date took a little while to organize. Between school for Sana and Isak, and Yousef and Even’s work schedules, it took some effort to find a perfect time they could all agree on. Or, at least, they all agreed on it until the day actually came and Isak realized it required him to get up earlier than noon on a Saturday.

“Baby,” Isak whined, clutching Even’s waist as he attempted to get out of bed, “Just five more minutes.”

“You said that twenty minutes ago.” Even’s laugh was far too bright for it being so early in the morning. (Yes, okay, it was 10 in the morning and wasn’t really that early, but Isak had gotten used to his routine of clinging to his boyfriend like a koala until 2pm every Saturday. It should be illegal to make plans for a meal earlier than lunch on the weekends.) “We really need to get up if we want to get there on time.”

“We’ll just cancel it.” Isak tugged Even, trying to drag him back under the covers, but he held fast. For someone so skinny, he really could be solid sometimes.

“You know Sana would never let you live that down.” Even grabbed his arms and pulled him, complaining all the way, into a sitting position. He kissed Isak’s nose and tried - and failed - to hide his delight at how much his boyfriend looked like an angry kitten when he was this groggy. “Come on. If you get up now, I promise to make you that homemade tomato soup tonight.”

“...Promise?”

“I promise.” Even kissed him lightly and Isak could feel his resolve slipping. Really, who could say no to good food and a kiss from a boyfriend like his?

Despite finally agreeing to get up, Isak was still tired and a bit grumpy as he and Even walked into the cafe - enough so that Sana had to stifle a snort in her coffee at the sight of him. Yousef, the saint he was, ignored the fact that Isak looked like he was ready to file a personal complaint against whoever invented mornings and greeted the two of them with a broad smile.

“Sorry we’re late,” Even gave them an apologetic smile, sitting opposite Sana after ordering for himself and Isak at the counter. “It was a little bit difficult to get out of bed this morning.” Isak dropped himself heavily into the chair next to him, muttering bitterly about how they should’ve organized something the evening when he would actually be conscious. Sana’s soft laughter was getting more difficult to hide and he shot her a sharp look, to which she only smiled innocently.

Yousef, clearly using every ounce of his resolve to hold back a laugh of his own, nodded at his friend. “We only just got here too, don’t worry. We’ve only ordered drinks so far - oh! And we ordered for you guys, if that’s okay.” He added as an afterthought, gesturing to bring their attention the two extra mugs of coffee in front of them.

“Thank fuck.” Isak immediately grabbed his and a fistful of sugar packets, emptying them all into the drink at record speed. He started to take a sip, then paused when he found everyone’s eyes on him, expressions in various degrees of amusement. “...What? Keep talking, I just need to wake up.”

That seemed to be a good enough excuse for the three of them and Even quickly launched into an animated conversation with Yousef. Isak ignored all of them, instead opting to blow gently on his cup of coffee and lean on his boyfriend’s shoulder until he’d drunk enough to become a functioning member of the conversation. As chance would have it, his brain finally decided to turn on and tune into what was being said just as his name came out of Sana’s mouth.

“-and since apparently Isak has never heard of a brain to mouth filter in his life, he looked the teacher dead in the eyes and, instead of answering her question-” She looked at Isak and smirked, noticing his newfound attentiveness. Isak could only groan, knowing what came next. “-he looked her in the eyes and asked why she never wears a bra.”

“In my defense!” Isak yelled, shoving Even slightly when he burst into hysterical laughter. “In my defense, I was running on maybe an hour of sleep and I’d just had to deal with Magnus talk about Vilde’s boobs for like forty-five minutes, so I was a little pissy.”

“When aren’t you pissy, Isak?” Sana threw back at him, and, well, Isak didn’t really have a response for that.

“I’m pretty sure we’ve all done something like that.” Yousef made eye contact with Even and grinned. “Do you remember that time in physics?”

“Which time? I embarrassed myself a lot in that class.”

“So, this was during the American election, right?” Yousef started, ignoring Even’s interruption of “oh, that time”. “And we were all talking about Donald Trump - me, Even, and this other girl in our class. We’re all getting really pissed because, you know, it’s Trump, and the girl brought up something new he’d said, and Even just said at the top of his lungs- what was it?”

“Donald Trump can eat my dick.” Even said it with the confidence of a man who had seen hell and couldn’t give a shit anymore. Beside him, Isak just barely stopped himself from spitting out his drink. “And the worst part was the teacher was standing right behind me and had heard every word. He just stared at him in stunned silence for a solid minute and half, and I don’t think he ever looked at me the same way again.”

“You failed that class, didn’t you?”

“Oh, big time. I think I made a pretty consistent two in any class that required math. Plus, you were in that class, and I’m pretty sure we both dragged each other down.”

“Not a math fan, Yousef?” Sana half turned towards him, her eyes twinkling. Yousef laughed awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck.

“No, not really.”

“He once sat there for three minutes, trying to remember what six times three was.” Even laughed, and Sana joined him. Yousef looked embarrassed for half a moment, but Sana’s hand slipped into his and gently squeezed, and suddenly he seemed incapable of looking anything but ridiculously happy. Yousef squeezed back and turned his grin to Even.

“It’s a good thing us math failures are fortunate enough to be with the two smartest people in Nissen, huh?”

“Well, you’re fortunate enough.” Sana teased. “I don’t know if I’d call Even lucky to have Isak.”

“I’m right here!” Isak squawked, but Sana just smirked back at him. Yousef not-so-subtly leaned across the table and stage-whispered to Isak.

“Don’t worry, she’s told me all about you. She says you’re one of the smartest people she knows, but you didn’t hear that from me.” He put a finger to his lips to imply secrecy, despite having whispered loud enough for the rest of the table to hear him.

“Aw, Sanasol,” Isak preened under the compliment and his smug expression only increased when he saw how Sana was fidgeting, “Did you really say that?”

“I-” She seemed to search for an excuse and, upon finding none, she sighed and gave him a smile. “You’re useful.”

The grin that put on Isak’s face lasted all the way through their brunch date, and he was still feeling smug when they left the restaurant and made their way down the sidewalk towards the park.

It was a crisp day in Oslo, and dead leaves crunched under their feet. Isak had one of his hands shoved deep in his pocket and the other one was kept warm by Even’s hand. A few paces ahead of them, Sana and Yousef both had their hands in their pockets, jackets hefted up high and shoulders brushing affectionately. As they meandered their way into the park, they spotted a long abandoned soccer ball and shared a look that Isak didn’t understand but was sure was some inside joke of theirs.

Yousef broke away from Sana’s side, dribbling the ball between his feet and then kicking it upwards towards her. She laughed brightly and caught it, turning towards Isak and Even with a mischievous look in her eyes.

“Two on two?” She said, gesturing to the two of them, then towards herself and Yousef.

“Are you challenging me, the master of football?” Isak grinned.

“No. We’re playing basketball.” She challenged, bouncing the ball at her feet a couple times.

“Basketball? That’s not even a basketball!”

“It bounces well enough! You’re just worried I’ll beat you.”

“No I’m not! I think you’re just too scared to leave your comfort zone. You gotta branch out with your sports, Sana!” That made her roll her eyes, and she gave up on him in favor of turning to their boyfriends.

“What about you two?”

“I’m actually with Sana.” Even admitted, laughing embarrassedly at the outraged noise that drew out of Isak. “Baby, you’ve seen me play football. You know I’m terrible.”

“So that’s three against four!” Sana declared, looking smug.

“Sorry Sana, but I think I’m with Isak here.” She whirled around and stared at Yousef, stunned. “It is a soccer ball, you know.”

It took a couple minutes of back and forth before they finally decided on a compromise: they’d play basketball, and every time Isak or Yousef scored, they’d switch to football until Sana or Even could score. They found themselves running around the park, laughing and jeering. Isak really was terrible at basketball, despite the several inches of height he had over Sana, but Yousef was good enough to make it so that they’d cycle through the sports pretty quickly. The same went for Sana and Even’s team; Even hadn’t been lying when he said he was terrible at football, but Sana was deceptively quick on her feet and kicked Isak and Yousef’s asses with ease.

They lasted like that for a while, following the rules of their respective games and the ones they’d made up, but as time went on, they dissolved further and further into just kicking and throwing the ball, caring more for having fun than following their rules. By the time Sana’s phone was announcing Zuhr, they were all flushed with exertion and the chilly air.

The fact that it was time for a prayer effectively ended their game, and after a few tight hugs and the assurance that they’d do this again soon, both couples headed off in opposite directions.

Isak could feel Even’s eyes on him as they walked home, clasped hands swinging between them. He did his best to ignore it, but after a few moments, he couldn’t help himself.

“What?” He asked, turning his face to meet Even’s adoring gaze.

“Nothing.” Even squeezed his hand, his eyes crinkling happily. “Just thinking about how lucky I am.” He didn’t say it, but Isak knew there was more to it than that. How lucky I am to be here. How lucky I am to be back in contact with Yousef. How lucky I am to be with you.

Isak smiled and squeezed back. He couldn’t verbalize it either, but when he thought about how good his life was now, how happy he was with Even, and how grateful he was for Sana’s friendship, he was couldn’t help but think about how out of all the parallel universes out there, he was glad to be in this one.

“Yeah,” He answered simply, “I’m pretty lucky too.”

[suwritingcenter]

My writing process has been a learning process. It has developed with each struggle and misunderstanding of assignments I have encountered.

My first memories of academic writing consisted of “word vomiting” on a page followed by minimal editing and confusion as to why I was not succeeding with my grades. In high school I was introduced to the beauty of outlining in order to organize my thinking. I fought this idea of outlining, by putting four to five surface level bullet points on a page and calling it good. However, this method was not going to help when I encountered my first three to five-page paper. I suddenly had a lot of pages to cover and an outline that gave me nothing to start with. I was going to need more. To my annoyance, properly outlining my thoughts helped me with everything it was meant to. I was producing clearer paragraphs and overall more organized papers. I threw out my previous ways of “word vomiting” and spent hours upon hours attempting to write every single sentence perfect the first time because I thought that was the point. The outline replaced the draft right? I worked from outline to final draft. Outlining is the most important right? Then one teacher said to me, “Your outline looks great, but the first draft should basically be ‘word vomit.’” …This was highly confusing.

           Throughout the extent of my student career, I have been introduced to every part of the writing process and have been told that each singular step was the “most important”. I was told that as long as I had an outline, I would be good to go to write a solid paper. I was also told the same exact thing about first drafts, second drafts, revision, thesis statements, etc. What I understood about the writing process was that there was one key that I had to find to unlock the perfect paper. What I didn’t understand was I had all the keys, and all of them needed to be put into use at once. By focusing on one step and ignoring others I was missing the rest of the pieces to bring together my writing. I thought that if I could cut corners and just finish the one piece that I believed to be essential at the time, I would be able to bring together a good paper. This was not the case.

           These days I have a process I have found works for me. I start with an outline that consists of everything including class discussion, random thoughts, and book quotes. Then I piece it together in a very “word vomit” type draft. I then take that draft and push it to the side and write my thesis based on what I have come up with. Then I write a second draft and bring together the thesis, the “word vomit draft”, and any other supplementary ideas I come up with. Then I walk away. After a few hours and some coffee, I revisit my draft and start making edits and rewriting for a second draft. After final edits and peer read throughs I am done. It’s a long and frustrating process at times, but the moment I return back to my previous process (either throwing words on a page without editing or hyper editing every phrase) because I get lazy or decide to cut corners, I am unhappy with my product. It has been a long process, but it pays off and I can only encourage others to find what works. It might be a process similar to mine. It might be completely different. It truly is whatever works best and makes you proud of the work you have done.