#I had a headache after being at work all day yesterday and had AWFUL cramps today

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

naproxen sodium two days in a row 😭 I feel like I'm either going to spontaneously perish or my mother is going to hate me

[destiniesfic]

132 Hours, Chapter 10

It is not better in the morning.

Previous

Read chapter 10 on AO3 or read below (but be warned, there’s mature content in this one):

Once again, it’s hard to sleep. I dream of kissing Cardan, who is actually Locke, and I am wearing Taryn’s pink prom dress. And that’s the tamest of them; I have more graphic nightmares that I won’t recount here, except to say that they are awful. Every time I wake up I am either too hot or too cold. I eventually decide I am most comfortable with one leg pushed outside of the blankets and fall into a light doze.

About two hours into my botched attempt at sleeping, I awaken to some odd noises and realize that Cardan is also awake. A moment later, I realize he must think I am still asleep, because when I look over at him there can be no other explanation for what he is doing.

As before, he is in slightly sharper focus than everything else in the room. I thought I’d find him lying down, but he is sitting up with his back against the wall, and his head is bowed forward. He is definitely trying to be quiet, but it is very clear to me from his weird breathing and the sound of skin on skin and the movement of his hand what is going on.

I shouldn’t watch. I know I shouldn’t. But I woke up turned on my side toward him and I can’t turn over or he might realize I’m awake. I can’t even imagine what would happen then. Would he stop? Would he come over? Would I invite him over? I don’t know which possibility terrifies me more.

His breathing grows more labored and he brings his free hand up to his mouth to muffle the sounds that fall out of it. I hate the way my heartbeat skips at every one, the way every muscle in my body clenches with want, with need. I stay quiet, though, watching with hungry curiosity as he curls over himself and makes a strangled sound, almost but not entirely swallowed up by his palm. His shoulders shake.

When it’s over—and I am marveling at how I just watched him jerk off—he sighs, a long, exhausted sigh that somehow really endears him to me. I want to crawl over to him and nuzzle at his neck. I want to drape my body over his body so we can keep each other warm. I want to lick his hand clean, a thought that I recoil from even as I have it. That can’t possibly taste good, and yet—

“Ah, shit,” he whispers. He’s looking down at his hand, and my delusional omega brain wonders if I should go offer to lick it. But then he pulls off one of his already dirty socks and uses that. He got a shower today, but being stuck in a dirty room the size of my stepmother’s walk-in closet negates that fast. Honestly, after being stuck down here for days, I’m not sure we’ll ever be clean again.

Cardan’s head falls back against the wall. His clean hand grabs for something at his side, and when he presses it to his face, I realize it’s my sweatshirt. He exhales again, and it must be my imagination, but it sounds suspiciously like my name. He takes a few, deep breaths, then puts it back down and curls up on his side, using it as a pillow.

I feel like I have been holding my breath this entire time, but I keep holding it a little longer, just in case. There is a pulsing, demanding heat in me, concentrated between my thighs, but, as I always do, I push it to the side. I curl my knees to my chest, and hope it will be better in the morning.

---

It is not better in the morning.

When I open my eyes, it is to the migraine that threatened me yesterday finally breaking, like someone’s jammed a railroad spike into my left eye. The fever is roaring, too, and I pull my leg back inside the blankets and wrap myself up tight, but my shivering doesn’t stop. My muscles have acquired a dull ache that makes me think they’d be bruised if I could peel my skin back and look.

I think I half-expected to find that Cardan had crawled on top of me in his sleep. Then I would wake up, then he would do it, and it would be an awkward thing to work around while kidnapped but at least the worst of my symptoms would abate. But Cardan is still by his corner where I’d seen him fall asleep last night, except now he’s curled up in a ball around my sweatshirt. So there would be no morning hump session, which is good, because I am not yet at the point where that seems more alluring than scary, awkward, intimidating.

My mouth is dry, and I turn over to reach for the water bottle, but it is empty. When had it emptied? Did I empty it?

“Cardan,” I whisper. That’s all it takes to jolt him out of sleep. He sits up, and rubs his eyes, which then widen when he looks at me so I must look really terrible.

“Shit,” he says again, which brings back echoes of him saying it in the night, which just makes my entire body seize up because he’d been jerking off—over me? or over the situation?—and there was an increasingly urgent part of my brain wondering why he’d had his dick in his hand when he could have put it in me. And then, ow, a cramp on top of everything else. As if everything else weren’t enough.

I paw for the pills the Bomb left me and swallow them dry, hoping for some relief from the headache, even though it won’t be immediate. Then I start to push up to my hands and knees.

“No, no,” says Cardan, shoving out a hand but not coming any closer. “No, you just— just wait, I’ll get them. I’ll get you more water.”

“I can do it,” I insist, but it’s taken so much effort just to get this far up and I’m trembling holding myself in place.

“Jude, you look—” He trails off and shakes his head. It must really be that bad. I want to tell him he doesn’t look much better. The circles under Cardan’s eyes have deepened, and he’s already sweating so much that his curls cling to his forehead. But he just sets his mouth in a line and says, “Let me do it.”

In almost any other circumstance I would hate being bossed around by him, but I just flop onto my belly and groan, “Fine.”

Cardan, however, is wired. He must feel as jagged and sleep-deprived as I do, but I can see the extra jittery energy in his every step. I did make that joke about thrusting, but what happens when you box an alpha in rut in a basement with no outlet? Where does that energy go?

Apparently into his fist, because when he pounds on the door it’s so loud that I nearly jump off the mattress. My head throbs. “Hey!” he calls. “Jude needs water!”

There is no answer for a solid thirty seconds. When Cardan glances at me, I am frowning. “They’re usually right outside,” I say, and my stomach plummets at the thought that we’ve been locked in here and just left with no food or water.

“They’re coming,” Cardan replies, probably to reassure himself. He bangs on the door again, this time with even more urgency. “Hey!”

A few seconds later the door opens, and it is not the Bomb standing there, but the Ghost, dressed in black, his face an inscrutable mask. “Alright, I heard you.”

Cardan takes a half-step back from the door, toward me. I pull the blankets tighter around myself and flatten my back against the wall. This was the outcome we had worried about. Everything Cardan had said and done yesterday was to keep our captors out, and especially to keep the Ghost away from me.

“You need to leave,” Cardan snarls, his hands balling into fists at his sides. I am surprised at the ferocity in his voice. I’ve seen him angry. I’ve seen him hurt people with a shove or a cruel word. I have never seen him like this.

But the Ghost is unimpressed. Probably because if it came down to a fight between the two of them, he would definitely win, even though Cardan has more muscle. “You can relax,” the Ghost says. “I’m a beta.”

Cardan blinks, and so do I. But then his eyes narrow. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

The Ghost sighs. “Ask your girlfriend if I smell like anything. Her receptors are on overdrive. Even maskers wouldn’t help.”

I expect Cardan to protest that I’m not his girlfriend, and I’m about to open my mouth to say he isn’t my boyfriend, when he looks at me and asks, softly, “Jude?”

The urge to deny anything is knocked right out of me, and I inhale, concentrating. It’s difficult to get anything beyond Cardan’s scent and mine, both of which hang heavy in the stagnant air, but I do pick out something. I look up at Cardan. “Just hand soap. He smells like hand soap.”

Cardan looks skeptical.

“I’m less of a danger to her than you are in this state,” the Ghost says. “I can help her out of the room. Let me.”

In this state. He has to know, then. Uneasily, Cardan moves aside to let the Ghost into the room, tracking him as he walks over and crouches at my side. The Ghost presses a cool hand to my forehead while looking at my sweaty, tangled hair.

“Why didn’t you say you’re a beta?” I ask, shivering.

“Wasn’t relevant. When did you last take medicine?”

“A few minutes ago. What about the Roach and the Bomb?”

“Do you introduce yourself to people by telling them you’re an omega?” It’s a rhetorical question, because he then says, “We have to get you into the shower. I’ll help you up.”

I nod. I know what I look like and what I smell like, and I am not so proud that I won’t accept his help.

“Hey,” Cardan begins, when the Ghost reaches out to put an arm around my shoulder, but I give him a look and he doesn’t say anything else, although the set of his jaw tells me he’s unhappy. He crosses his arms.

“Cardan,” the Ghost says, “can you go turn the water on for her? The old heater takes a while to get started. Make it warm to start, not hot. She can turn it up if she needs to.”

“Right,” Cardan says, and over the Ghost’s shoulder I see him nod and leave.

“He listened to you,” I marvel as the Ghost peels the blankets from my body and helps me to my feet. I should feel more self-conscious that I’m wearing only a tank top and underwear and my thighs are definitely crusty with residue, but he isn’t making a big deal of it, so neither am I. Besides, between my shaky legs and my bad ankle, I am a little distracted by the effort of not toppling over.

“Alphas. Temperamental, but they like to feel like they’re doing something.” It seems like a joke, but he doesn’t smile when he says it. He supports my weight easily, and with his help I hobble out of the room.

“You really don’t smell like much,” I inform him. “It’s weird.”

“I’m used to it.”

“Right.” Mentally, I kick myself. And the Ghost doesn’t say anything else, so I don’t either.

As he helps me across the little room, I am very conscious of my body pressed against his and his arm around my shoulder. My hormonal brain, ecstatic that I am being touched, is swimming, trying to tell me I am attracted to him. Am I attracted to him? I mean, I think he’s handsome, objectively. Should I have sex with the Ghost? I probably shouldn’t have sex with the Ghost.

But, of course, those images are provided to me unbidden because the omega part of me is ecstatic that I am willing to actually entertain my horniness. What if the Ghost helped me into the shower and he stayed there with me? And Cardan also stayed? And then what? My rational brain scolds. I don’t know anything about the logistics of having a threesome in a shower. It seems like an easy way to get more injured than I already am.

And while having sex with the Ghost would be simpler from an emotional standpoint because I barely know him, he is a beta, so it would not actually solve any of my current, heat-related problems. Also, Cardan would be sad.

Do I care that Cardan would be sad? That’s an uncomfortable thought.

“Oh, thank god,” I say, when we finally reach the bathroom and I see Cardan pacing back and forth in the little hallway and hear the shower stream hitting the old yellow tile in the bathroom. I can’t wait to be clean. I can’t wait for these heat-induced intrusive thoughts to go away either, but unfortunately that’ll take a little longer.

“Do you need any help getting undressed?” the Ghost asks, in a tone so dispassionate that even my omega hindbrain wilts at how obviously uninterested he is.

“I think I can manage,” I say, mostly because I can, but also because Cardan looks like he’s on the verge of tearing the Ghost’s throat out, and I still think the Ghost would win that fight but I’m suddenly not sure. We’ll all be glad when this is over.

So I limp into the bathroom, close and lock the door behind me, and tear off my sweat-soaked tank top and my underwear. Instead of standing in the shower, I grab the soap and sit right down, not caring if the floor is gross. I nearly start crying when the water hits my skin, and am almost surprised it doesn’t start steaming around me. It feels cool, so I turn it up a little until I’m comfortable. Then I begin scrubbing myself all over.

It takes a long time before I feel clean. My body still reacts to the lingering traces of Cardan’s scent that cling to my skin and hair. But I discover that someone’s stocked the shower with a set of floral shampoo and conditioner that claims to be “scent-dampening.” Small text on the back advises that they “may have diminished effect during periods of heat or rut,” but I pour a good third of the bottles out into my hands and wash and condition my hair, detangling it with my fingers. I wash my pubic hair, too, just in case it’ll help.

When I step out of the shower, feeling much better, I eye my gross clothes and dread putting them back on. But on the closed toilet, neatly folded, someone has left me an alternative: one of those loose maxi dresses you can find hanging on a rack in the back of a Walgreens, for cheap. I pull it over my head; it’s olive green, and too long, but it fits okay otherwise. There are also some soft black shorts, which I put on under the dress. There’s no replacement for my underwear, so I wash it in the sink, wringing it out as best I can, and leave it to hang dry on the towel bar.

When I step out, Cardan, who has now taken to pacing the main area with his head bowed sulkily forward, perks up. “Hey,” he says. “You look… wow, a lot better. Your scent’s— you’re better.” His nose wrinkles. “The shampoo’s a little weird, though.”

“Not a fan of lavender?”

“It just doesn’t really…” He gestures vaguely. “...like, go with you. It’s the opposite of what you are.”

I limp over to an empty chair and ease myself into it. Because I am so tired that my filter is totally worn away, I ask, “What do I smell like to you, anyway?”

“It’s…” He stuffs his hands in his pockets and fidgets. I notice his feet are still bare, and nearly blush, remembering what had happened to his sock. “It’s hard to explain. I mean, I probably smell like a lot of things at once to you, too, right?”

I nod. “But if you had to choose,” I press, and brace myself, trying to anticipate the worst thing he could say. Methane gas, rotten fish, a dump?

“Cinnamon, I guess,” Cardan admits.

“What?” I sit forward in my chair. “You hate the smell of cinnamon?”

“No, I.” He looks flustered, but tries to channel it back into haughty and irritable. “Don’t be stupid. I’m going to go shower.”

“But—” I begin, perplexed, but Cardan has already disappeared.

The Ghost, who had been leaning silently against the wall, pushes off of it to approach me. “I should change your bandages,” he says, crouching down to expect them. I open my mouth, but he anticipates me and looks up, adding, “I know you have questions, but I’m only going through this once. Better wait until Cardan gets back.”

I press my lips into a thin line. I can be patient when it’s important, but I am feeling frayed right now. As he is re-wrapping my leg, I blurt out, “How do you know what to do if you’re a beta?”

“What, with your leg?”

“No, with—” I look down at him and find him raising his eyebrows. He had been joking. I sit back in my chair, pouting.

“My dad was an omega,” he explains. “My mom was an alpha. I saw all sides of it growing up, even if I didn’t go through it. Three days every few months I’d be on my own.”

“Was that hard?”

“It was what it was.” He gives me another look. “Now wait.”

I scowl at him. “Can I have a mandarin?”

Maybe happy not to be talking, he gets up to get one from a bag slumped on top of the mini-fridge. I catch it when he tosses it to me, and alternate between picking at it and taking sips from a fresh water bottle until Cardan emerges from the shower, damp and cleansed of sweat. He sits down across from me, and I scrunch up my nose. Lavender doesn’t really suit him either.

“I told Jude I’d only go through this once,” says the Ghost, who seems happier to remain standing. “But I think I can guess your first question. Yes, we all knew what was going on. Pretty much from the get-go. We didn’t say anything because you guys were being cagey for some reason, but we figured we could get you the supplies you needed anyway, no harm done. I only said something because I’m the only one here, and Cardan wasn’t going to give me access otherwise.”

Cardan shifts. I ask, “Why are you the only one here?”

The Ghost blinks at me. That wasn’t the follow-up he was expecting. “The Bomb and the Roach were called away.” He shrugs. “Might be good news, might be bad. Hard to say. They figured I could handle things alone while you were in heat. It’s not like either of you are in a state to go anywhere.”

“So, what, you’re all betas?” Cardan asks, cutting me off before I can follow up.

“Yes.”

He frowns. “We thought you were using maskers.”

“It wasn’t a bad assumption,” the Ghost says. “People in our line of work often do, so we can’t be traced by scent. Betas make good spies, too. Any profession that requires stealth.”

I hadn’t thought about that, but it makes sense. “So were you recruited because you were a beta, or…” My stomach sinks as I consider another possibility. “You were all, like, born… nobody made you this way, right?”

The Ghost hesitates, then says, “I was, yes. The others’ stories aren’t mine to tell.”

Cardan gawps at me. “You’re thinking they were… what, de-designated? Why? To make them better at… crime?”

I shudder. Forcible de-designations were categorized as human rights violations by the United Nations in the early 1970s after certain unethical human experiments came to light. Sure, there are de-designation therapies out there for people whose designations cause extreme dysphoria or health complications, but they take months. The forcible de-designations are quick, and brutal, and painful, and if the subject survives the physical complications, they might not survive the psychological.

“I hope not,” I say, quietly, telling myself that my discomfort is brought around by the idea of anyone suffering such a painful ordeal, not because I like our abductors. I change the subject. “But you were recruited?”

“Yes.”

Man of few words. I hug my arms around my stomach. “Must be nice.”

“The job opportunities or being a beta?”

“Not having to deal with…” I peel one hand away from my abdomen and gesture vaguely.

“No, I don’t envy that.” The Ghost looks between us. “Although I do sometimes wonder what I’m missing out on.”

I glance at Cardan, who, to my surprise, actually looks angry. “If you had fresh clothes for Jude the whole time, why didn’t you give them to her?” he demands. “Why didn’t anybody stay with her? She was stuck in her gross clothes and she was alone, all day.”

Again, the Ghost looks slightly taken aback, although he smooths his face into his usual inscrutable mask in an instant. “The Bomb got these for her yesterday, but she was curled up in her nest and we didn’t know if she’d want to move or be bothered.”

“My nest?” I frown. “No, that’s not right. I don’t have a—”

“It’s a sad nest, but you did pile all the bedding in the room up in one corner.”

“No, that wasn’t—I mean, I didn’t—” I look at Cardan in horror, as he is the one who put all the blankets and pillows on me, but he is looking away from me. I shake my head, and some wet hair falls into my face. “It’s okay that I was alone. I think it was better. Don’t worry about it.”

I feel the Ghost watching me closely, and shift in my seat. “It’s not shameful, what’s happening to you,” he says at last. “Plenty of people go through it all the time.”

“Not you,” I retort.

“Maybe not, but I’ve been around long enough and seen enough to know there are upsides to being an omega.”

“Oh, yeah?” I ask. “Like what?”

The Ghost’s eyebrows shoot up. “You want me to tell you?”

“Yeah.” I glance at Cardan, who’s slouching in his chair and pretending to ignore both of us. “Tell me how my life doesn’t totally suck right now.”

He looks at me, then at Cardan, then says, “I guess I don’t have anything better to do.”

Next

[pitubea1910]

Those days

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Words: 1k

Warning: fluff 

Request: -

Tags: -

Note: it’s not my best work at all but I was on my period and came up with this. I wanted to share it with you so I hope you like it :) Please share!

If any of you want to be on my tag list let me know, but I’ll only add those who interact with the stories with reblogs and/or comments. 

MASTERLIST

You didn’t sign up for this.

It just didn’t come in the contract you signed when you were born. Yeah, you were up for hangovers, headaches, anything… but when had you signed up to be a bloody mess every single month for half of your life?

It sucked. Being on your period sucked in every single way possible. Especially, the first few days of that long ass week. All you wanted to do was staying in bed, eating all the sugary food in the world, watching rom-coms all day and cuddled up in Tom’s arms. Of course, that last part was impossible when he was busy filming.

Going to Atlanta with him while he filmed the second Spider-Man movie had been a great decision. You both had had a really hard time when you had to be away when he was away for so long to make the last Avengers movie. Back then, you had only been dating for a few months and even if he wasn’t gone for too long since he wasn’t that much in the movie, it was the longest months of your life.

It all was different this time. You were together in Atlanta, living in the apartment he had rented for the time you were going to be living there. It had only been three weeks, but you had never been happier. At least until you bloody friend decided to join the party.

“What can I do?” Tom asked at six in the morning when you had left the bed to take some painkillers for the cramps.

“Nothing”, you sighed, cuddling up to him when you went back to bed.

He sighed and wrapped his arms around you, rubbing your back in a soothing way that had you sleeping in no time. He didn’t really go back to sleep since he had to be on set in less than two hours, but he spent all the time he could hugging you, trying to make you feel as comfortable as possible given the circumstances.

Tom knew how bad your periods were since he had been through many of them with you in the year and a half you had been together, but he had never been with you during a whole day, let alone a whole period. It was the first time he saw how bad your cramps were, how moody you were and how terrible it was for you. It made him feel so useless.

“Babe…” he whispered an hour later when his alarm went off and you stirred a bit. “I have to get up.”

“Already?” You whispered back, not opening your eyes.

“Yes”, he said after placing a kiss on your head. “I’m so sorry”. He added.

“Don’t worry”, you said and kissed his bare chest softly. “When will you be back?” You asked opening your eyes a little to look at him.

“I don’t know”, he honestly said. “As soon as possible, but…”

“But you’re Spider-Man”, you sighed. “I know, don’t worry”, you said.

“You’re okay?” He asked.

You nodded with your eyes back closed. He knew you weren’t okay, that you were only saying so to make him feel better, which wasn’t working at all. But he couldn’t stay home, it didn’t matter how much he wanted to. Yet, it took him all his strength to pull himself from you and get out of bed.

He took a quick shower and a quick breakfast, since he always had time to eat some more on set. Before leaving, he went back to the room where you had fallen back asleep. With a small smile, he went back to the kitchen to take a page from the notebook where you used to write the grocery lists and wrote a quick note for you. Then, he walked into the room and put it on his pillow before kissing your hair softly, trying not to wake you up, and finally walked out of the apartment. He was already late.

***

It was 9.30 a.m. when you woke up again. Taking the painkiller had been a big help and it had allowed you to rest for a couple of hours at least, but you still didn’t feel like leaving your bed. Usually, you would do your morning routine and some studying before going to set to have lunch with Tom and spend the rest of the afternoon and evening with him there, but not today.

You rolled over to his side of the bed to bury your face in his pillow, which still had his scent, and smiled a little. It was then when you touched a piece of paper you hadn’t seen. With a curious frown on your forehead, you took it and smiled as you recognised Tom’s handwriting.

“I’ll be back as soon as possible with chocolates and enough candy to feed a country for a year. I love you so much, babe. Tom.”

He really was the sweetest guy you had ever met. You took the phone from your bedside table and texted him: just got up and I’m already craving those candies. Love you xx.” You knew he wasn’t going to text back right away since he was busy filming, so you forced yourself to get out of the bed to take a shower.

***

“You’re distracted today”, Zendaya told Tom once they had finished filming a scene.

Tom had got to set that morning with his mind on you and he hadn’t been able to focus completely on the movie, which was causing a bit of delay. Usually he would pull himself together and do his job, but he felt awful for leaving you alone.

“Yeah, everything okay?” Harrison asked coming over to give him some water, like he used to do when they finished a scene.

“Yeah”, he nodded. “Do you have my phone?”

“Yeah”, Harrison said before giving him the device.

Tom unlocked it to see the text you had sent him a while ago. He smiled a little and texted back immediately. At least, it looked like you were feeling a bit better. Although it was really impossible to know from a simple text.

“Tom, we know you” Zendaya said, her arms crossed over her chest.

“It’s…” Tom sighed and locked his phone. “It’s just that (Y/N) is not feeling well today and I feel bad leaving her alone”, he finally explained.

“What’s wrong?” Harrison asked with a frown. “She was okay yesterday when I left your apartment.”

“She’s on her period”, Tom said with a shrug. “And I don’t know what to do.”

“To be honest, there’s not much you can do”, Harrison said. Tom glared at him. “Don’t look at me like that. You have to work!”

“Actually…” Zendaya said with a look that meant she was coming up with some idea. “You could try and do something.”

“What?” Tom asked.

“Why don’t you talk to Jon and ask for a day off?” She said.

“He won’t give it to me. I play Peter, I’m in almost every scene”, Tom said.

“Do you have anything to lose? It’s not like you’re yourself anyway”, Zendaya shrugged. “Just ask him. The worst-case scenario, you have to stay. But if he says yes, you can go back to (Y/N).”

***

Just like you had imagined, you had spent the whole morning in bed with Netflix on TV. You had almost finished the fifth season of Friends when you got up to go to the bathroom. It didn’t matter if you hadn’t done anything, you still felt exhausted, but it was how you always felt on these days. It was like you had ran the New York marathon without leaving the bed.

Of course, the fact that you had to spend the day alone didn’t help. You would never hold it against Tom. You knew it was impossible for him to stay home, but you missed him so much you wished he was there.

When you left the bathroom, you went to the kitchen to make yourself some tea. It would always relieve some of the cramps. Of course, taking a painkiller would be more effective, but you had already taken one that morning, so you didn’t want to take another one just yet. A tea would have to make it.

As you waited for the water to boil, you looked out of the window. It was a bright sunny day there in Atlanta, not as hot as Tom had told you it could be, but it was still pretty warm. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of Tom in the suit. He would be boiling. With a smile, you took your phone from the counter to text him, but you stopped when you heard the door of the apartment opening.

Your face probably was worth taking a photo when you saw Tom walking in with a full plastic bag on his hand. He closed the door, left the keys on the counter next to it and turned to walk straight to the room where he probably thought you were. Instead, he saw you on the kitchen, looking at him like you had just seen a ghost.

“Surprise!” He said with a big smile.

“What?” You mumbled, making him laugh.

He walked over to the kitchen and left the bag on the counter. Then, he turned off the kettle, which was already boiling but you had obviously forgotten about it.

“What are you doing here?” You finally asked.

“I asked Jon if I could have a day off to be with you”, he simply said.

“But… I, I don’t understand”, you said.

With a smile, he got closer to you and wrapped both arms around your waist before kissing your forehead. Then, he told you about what had happened on set, about how distracted he was, his conversation with Zendaya and Harrison and how he had ended up asking Jon for a day off to be with you.

“He didn’t really like the idea, to be honest”, he then said. “But it turns out that Zendaya can be quite persuasive if you ask me.”

“And… so, you’re going to spend the day here? With me?” You asked.

“And I didn’t come alone”, he said pulling away from you, which only increased your confusion.

Tom took the bag he had previously set on the counter and started taking all kind of candy from it. Oreos, gummy bears, pop-tarts, ice cream, cupcakes, chocolates. Indeed, it could feed you for a whole month with what he had bought.

“Everything for my best girl”, he said when you asked him why he had brought all that. “Now… choose a rom-com while I make popcorns.”

“Stupid, Crazy Love?” You asked.

“I knew it”, he winked. You smiled widely and were about to go to the room when he grabbed you by your wrist, pulling you back to him. “I love you”, he said looking down at you.

“I love you too”, you smiled widely before kissing him. “But Ryan Gosling awaits”, you said against his lips and walked quickly towards the room, making Tom laugh.

“When you think of Gosling, think of who brough you Oreos!” He exclaimed.

[cuddlepilefics]

Overworked?

Fandom: GOT7

Sickie: Jackson

Caregiver: rap-line + jjp

 Jackson’s POV.:

I had been working on a solo-project today and was really excited to get back to the dorm and show my members what I had worked on. Sure, it had been tough, the hours of singing had left my throat a bit scratchy and exercising in the morning before practicing the new choreography had made my muscles burn. However, there can only be a good outcome, if I really made an effort and put all my heart into it, and so I did. Being done with today’s schedule, I had a driver take me back to the GOT7 dorm. I only realized how late it actually was when none of the members were up anymore. I guess I’ll have to show them tomorrow. Quietly, I snuck into the bathroom for a quick shower and got ready for bed. Being downright exhausted, I collapsed on my bed and the soft mattress welcomed my achy limbs. I had to suppress a sigh because I didn’t want to wake my roommate Mark but it really felt amazing to finally be able to lay down and rest.

When I woke up the next morning, Mark had already gotten up and I turned my face into my pillow to muffle a groan. I was a dozen times achier then when I went to bed yesterday and my throat was really sore now. I shouldn’t have overdone it that much. Today there was no schedule for me, since I had finished my project yesterday and I could’ve stayed in bed all day but my stomach was churning a bit and I figured going to bed without dinner last night was a bad idea. So I got up too and decided to have breakfast to settle my stomach and end the hunger pains. I met Bambam in the kitchen and we had dinner together. “Are you alright, hyung? You’re really quiet this morning”, Bambam questioned. “I’m fine, still tired and sang too much yesterday. My throat hurt’s a bit”, I replied, keeping my volume down but even so, it hurt to talk and I sounded raspier than usual. “I can tell, you sound awful”, Bambam frowned and I stuck out my tongue at the result. He got up and grabbed a mug from the kitchen cabinet. Picking up the pot of tea he had prepared for himself, my dongsaeng poured another cup and pushed it in front of me. After my whispered “thank you” we ate in silence, which I was glad about because my head had started to hurt a bit. Seems like I really outdid myself recently, but at least I’m done now and with some sleep I’ll feel like myself again soon. I was still sipping my tea when Mark exited the bathroom with shower-damp hair and grinned at me: “Good morning sleepy-head. At what devilish time of night did you get home yesterday? When you texted me, you’d finish everything up, I stayed up late to celebrate with you but you didn’t come and I must have nodded off at some point.” – “Oh my god, h-hyung. I’m soo sorry. You didn’t have to wait for me. I don’t even know when I got home, there were some last imperfections to erase and it ended up getting pretty late”, I rushed, feeling guilty that my friend had lost sleep all for nothing. My voice got progressively quitter and by the end of my explanation I had to clear my throat by coughing into my elbow. It didn’t help, the coughing just sent a stabbing pain down my throat and my wince didn’t go unnoticed by my friends. “Are you ok?”, Mark frowned. “Hyung, he sang a lot yesterday”, Bambam answered for me and I gave him a grateful smile for not having to speak again. Mark nodded thoughtfully before smiling at me: “You really need to show me how it turned out, but no hurry, if you want to get a few more hours of sleep first, that’s fine. You look like a panda with your eyebags.” I frowned before sticking out my tongue. “I’ll show you later hyung, sleep sounds good right now”, I whispered pointing to my bedroom. He nodded happily and disappeared with Bambam to play some games. I didn’t know where the rest of the group was but the two rappers seemed to be the only ones home. Rubbing my eyes, I placed my mug into the sink and went back to bed.

My plan to sleep a bit more was futile though. With the achiness weighting my body down I struggled to find a comfortable position and to add to my discomfort, my stomach didn’t get better from eating like I had expected. Quite the opposite was the case, my meal didn’t really settle and on top of the ache there was now also a hint of nausea. The headache I had developed over breakfast was slowly increasing and I groaned into my pillow. Does overworking really feel this bad? Giving up on sleeping, I sat up and checked my phone when suddenly a sharp cramp ripped across my abdomen. I grit my teeth and tried to breathe through the pain but when it subsided the nausea had increased tenfold. I was now really confused, what is going on with me? Not knowing whether I needed to throw up, I carefully got up and slowly walked to the bathroom. When I passed Bambam’s room I could hear my friends laughing and teasing each other. Oh, how I had missed this, but now that I’m home and not busy, I feel dreadful. I sat next to the toilet, leaning against the bathtub and screwing my eyes shut. Willing the nausea away, I took deep breaths through my nose and gently traced my hand in circles over my bloated belly. Bad idea. The added pressure was too much and a wet burp left my lips. Already being able to feel my breakfast at the back of my throat, I got on my knees and leaned over the bowl. It didn’t even take long till a gag tore at my abused throat and though it was unproductive, it made my eyes water. Fuck, I can’t throw up. My throat is to sore for that. I knelt there with one arm hugging my tummy and the other one gripping the rim of the bathtub next to me. I grit my teeth and tried to keep my lips closed at all costs, hoping it would keep my stomach contents in. All hope was lost when my cheeks puffed with another burp which was then followed by a strong heave. This time I had to open my mouth, as a hot stream of vomit gushed from my lips. The half-digested food burning my throat but I barely had the time to dwell on the pain since my stomach contracted again and I brought up another wave. I didn’t know what was worse, the pain it caused my throat or the fact that having just eaten, I could feel all the chunks travelling over my throat. I spat into the toilet and wiped the tears off my cheeks, trying to keep myself calm and hopefully calming my stomach along with me. To no avail. After a few held back gags into my fist, I threw up again, choking. I kept coughing and the strain on my throat brought me to tears once again. After a few knocks, I heard the door open and soon there was a hand hitting me between the shoulderblades. Slowly, the coughing subsided and I looked up at Mark, who had now switched to rubbing my back. “What’s going on?”, he asked with concern evident in his voice. “Don’t feel good”, I rasped quietly, wiping my tears away and resting my head on my arm. “Yeah, I can see that. I mean, are you sick or just really overworked? Or both?” Honestly, what should I tell him? I don’t know what’s going on with me. So I just settled for shrug. He sighed but kept rubbing my back. “Do you think you’re done, hyung?”, Bambam asked from the doorway, passing a waterbottle to Mark who opened it before offering it to me. After rinsing my mouth out, I handed it back to Mark without drinking any, not wanting to risk throwing up again even though it probably would have soothed my throat. Dropping my head back onto my arm I shrugged at Bambam’s question. Mark was still crouching behind me and Bambam took a seat next to me on the bathtub, before brushing my sticky hair out of my face. When did I start to sweat this much? The cool hand he pressed to my forehead felt amazing and I whined hoarsely when he pulled it away again. “Fever”, he commented, carding my hair back and I closed my eyes. That certainly explains some things. I never get this sore from dancing and I have sung for longer durations before, not wrecking my throat.

I was starting to nod off when Mark gently shook my shoulder: “Come on let’s get you back to bed. Don’t fall asleep here.” The thought of moving didn’t sound too appealing but I remembered how comfy my bed was earlier and let the two other rappers pull me to my feet. Being upright made my head spin and I relied heavily on my friends to keep me from falling. The walk to my room was painfully slow and felt like a marathon. When I could finally collapse on my bed, I was drained of all energy. My head pounded and I curled up hugging my pillow. Bambam had disappeared for a minute and now returned, placing a bucket next to my bed: “Do you need anything?” I shook my head. “Want to try and sleep some more?” I nodded and Mark helped me to pull the blanket over myself properly, since my sore muscles struggled to do so. After telling me to get better, they left quietly and the exhaustion from being sick and overworked knocked me out within seconds.

 Jinyoung’s POV.:

Jaebeom and I just came back from buying groceries, when we found Mark and Bambam in the kitchen. Mark was cooking rice while Bambam chopped some vegetables. They explained in a hushed voice that Jackson had fallen ill and they were making soup as well as plain rice as a back-up plan, since he threw up earlier and might stomach rice better. “Why, what’s wrong with him?”, I had had a gut feeling that Jackson was working himself sick. “Seems a bit like the flu, fever, vomiting, muscle aches and he is pretty close to losing his voice”, Mark listed. Yeah, my poor hyung had clearly run himself into the ground and I now felt bad for not stopping him, having noticed the signs a while ago already. Putting my bags down, I made my way to his and Mark’s shared room to check on him, while the three remaining members stored the groceries away. I tried to open the door with as little noise as possible to not wake him in case he was asleep. It was a heart-breaking sight that welcomed me after sneaking in. Our Chinese rapper had tangled himself in the sheets, sweat beading on his forehead. He looked awfully pale with dark circles under his eyes and a slight blush on his cheeks. There was a bucket next to his bed and even while asleep, he was holding on to it with one hand, his arm hanging off the mattress. After dabbing away the sweat with an edge of his sheets, I placed my palm on Jackson’s Forehead, frowning at the heat radiating off of him. My touch must have woken him because he blinked at me disorientated. “Hey, not doing so well, huh?”, I whispered and he shook his head. Giving him a sympathetic smile, I sat down on the edge of the bed and saw how his eyes slowly got a bit damp. “What’s wrong?”, I asked sincerely. “I was soo busy and I missed you guys soo much. Now I’m finally back but I feel like death and everything hurts”, he rasped with a wavering voice and it was hard to tell whether the cracks in his voice were because of him being sick or due to suppressed tears. “We missed you too, hyung. But I think you might have loaded too much work onto yourself, ending up sick like this.”, I replied, running my hand over his shoulder. Remembering how much Jackson needed to have people he liked and trusted around him, I could only imagine how hard the last weeks must have been, working with complete strangers. Being alone in his room because he was sick, probably didn’t help him feel less lonely. “Do you want any of us to keep you company? Jaebeom, Mark, Bambam and I are free today and the others shouldn’t come back too late either…” – “I don’t want you to catch this”, barely managing more than a whisper. I could see the conflict in his eyes that told me he really didn’t want to be alone anymore, so I joked lightheartedly: “Don't worry. If I catch this from you, I will find a way to have my revenge.” Immediately tears started running down his pink cheeks and I was totally caught off guard. “Wait..” – “Nooo.. l-le-eave!! I d-don't want yo-you to be ma-mad at meee!!” I quickly started wiping his tears away and tried to calm his feverish, emotional mind down: “Hey, shh, I was just kidding, I’m staying. Relax.” It took a few minutes but his breathing slowly went back to normal and he was only sniffling quietly from time to time. I motioned for Jackson to make some space and sat down next to next to him with my back against the headboard, so he could rest his head in my lap. Running my fingers through his sweaty hair, I used my other hand to text Mark.

Shortly after, the door opened and the rest of the rap-line followed by our leader stepped in. My text didn’t explain much other than Jackson having missed us and feeling lonely. Jaebeom crouched down next to the bed while Mark and Bambam took a seat on Mark’s bed. “Hey, it’s good to have you back”, Jaebeom smiled at Jackson while patting his arm, keeping his touch light as he was aware of the soreness in his dongsaeng’s muscles. “Missed you, hyung”, the rapper forced out, making the leader’s face fall as he realized just how bad he sounded. After telling Jackson to avoid talking as far as possible, Jaebeom continued to praise him for his hard work and the effort made for the fans. I got a bit worried this speech would only encourage self-destructive behavior but luckily, my hyung ended it with emphasizing that health has to be the first priority and that true fans would want their idols to be happy and healthy instead of overworked wrecks. With a good amount of convincing, we got Jackson to eat a small bowl of plain rice so he could take some ibuprofen to help with the aches and fever. He even managed to empty half a bottle of water before lying back down with a groan. Bambam had brought in his laptop and played some music at a low volume to give us some background-noise. Mark had picked up Jackson’s Squirtle plush and placed it in the younger rapper’s arms. While I stayed seated with Jackson, the other three got comfortable on Mark’s bed. We engaged in a hushed conversation about the past weeks, telling Jackson what he missed while being away and discussing ideas for future projects and trips we wanted to take when having some time off. We didn’t expect Jackson to participate or even listen, he only needed to feel and hear us being there and including him though he was really out of it. Not even thirty minutes later, he was out cold in my lap snoring lightly. I was just glad, he was finally home and resting, my hard-working hyung.

[rosedavid]

angst #2 for tyrus! but happy ending pls:(

2.  "Don’t you ever say that to me again. I mean it.“

…

“So you’ll never guess what I have planned for date night ton—Cyrus?” 

TJ walks into their shared apartment that night after a grueling day of school, keys swinging as he hums a catchy tune he heard on the radio. No matter how crappy the week, he always had weekly date night to look forward to with his boyfriend. Normally, when TJ walked in the door on date night, Cyrus would already be getting ready, calling out an exuberant hello. Tonight, though, the whole atmosphere feels a bit off as he enters. The apartment is dimmer than normal, as if a thick storm cloud settled inside. It’s eerily silent, the type of silence that isn’t relaxing but rather like the moment in a horror movie right before the jump-scare. And Cyrus, Cyrus is curled up on the couch, so still that TJ thinks he’s asleep until Cyrus turns to meet his eyes. 

“What’s wrong? Are you sick?” TJ worries, because what else could explain this type of behavior? 

With pursed lips, Cyrus shakes his head. His fingers scratch into the tops of his legs. “I need to talk to you about something.”

Dropping his backpack on the floor, TJ wonders what could have possibly made Cyrus act this way. Normally, if they have fights, Cyrus will confront him directly and immediately. If Cyrus is sad, he’ll be sniffling and trying to hide his red eyes. But this…this isn’t a feeling that TJ is familiar with from Cyrus, and somehow it feels worse. 

TJ sits beside Cyrus on the couch gingerly, as if the slightest wrong move will cause Cyrus to bolt. TJ attempts to wrap his arm around the smaller boy, but Cyrus seems to shrink away from him. For once, TJ doesn’t know what to do. He’s never felt so out of place next to Cyrus in all their years of knowing each other. Then, Cyrus speaks, a whisper in the air so soft that TJ has to strain to hear it.

“I’m leaving.”

TJ blinks, trying to understand what he’s saying. “Leaving? Where?”

“New York.”

The cogs in TJ’s head are spinning as he attempts to make sense of the jumbled words coming out of Cyrus’s mouth. Why would he be going to New York City right before his Clinical Psychology internship here in California? 

“I…I don’t understand,” TJ stammers, mouth dry. 

Cyrus sighs, placing a hand on top of TJ’s own. “I’m moving to New York.”

“What are you talking about? What about your internship? You have a whole life here!” 

“I applied to another one in New York,” Cyrus admits. “I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t think I would get accepted, but then I got the letter today–”

“I wish you would have told me sooner, but we can deal with this. Have you found any good apartments yet in the city? I need to see what credits of mine will transfer, but–”

“No, TJ, you’re not getting it. I’m moving to New York.”

Time feels achingly frozen. TJ’s hand stiffens in Cyrus’s grip. He pulls away, eyebrows furrowed. He stands up and tries to gain some sense of bearing of this situation. He and Cyrus have been dating for nearly 5 years, ever since high school. Despite the rough patches they went through, they’ve stayed together all this time. And now, it feels like Cyrus is just giving up on all that work, all the time they’ve spent with each other, loved each other.

“Cyrus–” he attempts to argue, but Cyrus interrupts him. 

“Listen, Teej, I know how you must be feeling right now…”

“You have no idea! I don’t–I don’t get it, Cyrus. I can come with you. We can move together–”

Cyrus bites his lip, tears forming in his eyes. “No, you can’t. I’m sorry. I need to do this, okay? But you need to stay here, finish school, enjoy yourself–”

“How? How could I when you’re thousands of miles away?!” TJ asks incredulously, throwing his hands up in the air. 

“This internship is the best opportunity for me, for us. You know I need to help my mom, too, and this will give me the resources to do that. It’s what’s best.”

The room descends into silence once again. TJ towers above Cyrus, arms folded. His back is turned away from the other boy as he stares out the window, dissatisfaction spreading through him. How could Cyrus say something like this?! How could he have made this choice without even discussing it with TJ first? TJ can’t believe that, after so many years of their relationship, it’s come to this. Finally, TJ turns away from the window, glaring down at Cyrus. Then, he lashes out.

“You’re being selfish.”

Cyrus suddenly stands up from his position, stomping over the short distance to TJ. There’s a ferocity burning in Cyrus’s eyes that seems so opposite of the person TJ knows that it causes him to take a step back in surprise. 

“Don’t you ever say that to me again. I mean it,” Cyrus seethes, hands clenched at his sides. 

Then, without another word, Cyrus storms right out the front door. 

…

Cyrus doesn’t return the next day, or the next. TJ can’t even bring himself to sleep in their bed, not alone. He takes up camp on the couch, instead. His back aches from the cruddy support, and his feet hang off the edge, but he still can’t do it. It feels wrong to sleep in there without him snoring softly on his side. Without his cold nose pressing into TJ’s shoulder. 

TJ tries to stay mad. It works for the first night. He paces a hole in the floor, tugging his hair so hard that a few strands definitely come out. He blames Cyrus for everything, thinks about how stupid and selfish he’s being. He thinks to himself that he’s glad Cyrus isn’t there right now, that he can’t stand to see him anyway. It’s true, to some extent. The anger is certainly present inside him, but as the tensions from before vanish, and TJ sits alone in the apartment, that anger dies down, only to be replaced by a building sense of deep sadness. 

He shouldn’t be sad, at least not more than he’s angry. This is all Cyrus’s fault, after all. New York?! Does he even care about TJ, about their relationship? TJ knows that Cyrus wants to have the money to take care of his ailing mother, but he can have enough by staying here, too, even if things are a little tight. TJ should be happy for Cyrus getting into his dream internship, but he isn’t. He’s not happy at all, he’s upset, because Cyrus will leave him to go across the country for this fancy job even though he could get everything he needed from here, with TJ–

TJ freezes, realizing something horrible in that moment. 

It’s not Cyrus who’s being selfish, it’s him.

…

On the third night without Cyrus, TJ cries himself to sleep. 

…

The next morning, TJ wakes up with sticky eyes and a pounding headache. He coughs, throat dry and ragged. His body is sprawled at an uncomfortable angle across the couch. The pillow previously clutched in his arms fell to the floor. He sits up, legs still cramped from stuffing himself onto the small area. 

Suddenly, the past nights come back to him like a punch in the face. He bolts up, ignoring the dizziness from standing too fast. He looks around for any sign of Cyrus, but everything is just as it was last night. 

TJ has to make this right. He can’t let Cyrus leave without apologizing, that’s for sure. They need to talk, sooner rather than later. But Cyrus hasn’t answered any of his calls yesterday or even read any of his texts. TJ thought that Cyrus was destroying their relationship by leaving, but as it turns out, it’s TJ who’s destroying it himself. 

What if it’s too late? 3 days of not speaking at all, no contact. For all TJ knows, Cyrus may already be in New York by now. He may have just lost the best thing in his life because of some stupid fight. And TJ remembers back to the fight, really focusing on how Cyrus looked more than what they said to each other. Cyrus looked awful: anxious, guilty, depressed. Cyrus was scared to tell him, and TJ reacted just the way Cyrus feared. 

With no other options left, TJ does the only thing he can: He texts Buffy. 

TJ: Buffy, I need your help

At first, he worries that Buffy won’t respond, but thankfully a few minutes later, the typing dots pop up on his phone. 

Buffy: Yeah, right. You think I would help you after you hurt my best friend so badly?

Guilt fills TJ even further. He hurt Cyrus. He hurt the person that means the world to him. Even if Buffy doesn’t want to help him, he has to try again, for Cyrus. He can’t live with himself knowing that Cyrus is somewhere, hurt and broken because of TJ. 

TJ: Please, Buffy. I know I’ve been terrible, and he never deserved any of it. I’m an idiot, and you don’t have to forgive me, but I can’t just leave things like this. I love him, so much, and even if he doesn’t want to forgive me, I have to try. Please, tell me where I can find him.

Five minutes later, Buffy responds. TJ nearly cries out in relief as he reads her text. 

Buffy: You have one chance, Kippen. Do not screw this up. He’s over here now.

Not caring about how he looks, TJ throws on a pair of shoes and grabs his keys on the way out the door. Buffy’s place is about 45 minutes away with no traffic. Normally, that long of a drive wouldn’t phase TJ, but in this context, it feels like an eternity. 

TJ presses the button for the elevator repeatedly, as if that would help it get to him faster. Suddenly, though, a startling realization comes over him. He sprints back into their shared apartment to grab something stuffed in the bottom of his drawer. If there’s anytime to make a grand gesture, it’s now. 

Just like expected, the drive to Buffy’s is like torture. TJ can hardly sit still. He’s even more snappy at the bad drivers than usual. The only thing he can think about is getting to Cyrus. 

An hour later, TJ finally rounds the familiar corner to Buffy’s own apartment. TJ shudders out a sob as he spots Cyrus’s little car parked outside. He parks his own car directly behind Cyrus. Despite his intense need to apologize to him, TJ feels stuck in place as he stares at the apartment building. What if Cyrus doesn’t forgive him? What if Cyrus never wants to see him again? 

TJ has to take that chance. It’s better to know than to always wonder, always regret never trying. With a deep breath, he climbs out of his car. To his surprise, Buffy is there waiting to buzz him in. She has a stern expression on her face, similar to the way she looked at him before they became friends. She doesn’t say anything to him, but the look she gives him is enough of a warning. He sends a grateful look back toward her before heading up to her apartment. 

He pauses outside the door for a second before knocking. He hears shuffling inside, closer and closer. The door opens. 

Cyrus stands there in a pair of Buffy’s sweats and sweatshirt, as they’re a bit too big on him. He looks completely swallowed up by the fabric. His hair is mused, not styled meticulously like TJ is used to. His face is pale, and his eyes hold an unwavering sadness as he stares at TJ. 

“C-can we talk?” TJ stutters. 

“No, we can’t. You can’t–I don’t want to be put through this all again, TJ,” Cyrus declares with a sniffle. 

“Please, Cyrus,” he begs, reaching out for his sleeve before Cyrus can close the door. “I’m not here to argue. I’m here to apologize.”

Cyrus stills for a moment, and TJ counts this as a cue to keep talking. 

“You’re not selfish, Cyrus. You’re the least selfish person I’ve ever met in my life. I was the selfish one. I didn’t even consider–” TJ cuts off. “New York was your dream. You gave up New York for school to stay with me. You wanted to stay closer to your mom because she got sick. You came with me to the school that I dreamed of going to because it was my dream. You’ve loved me, unconditionally. God Cyrus, you’re not selfish in the least bit. All you do is care about others.”

TJ takes in another breath to continue. “And I know how hard this decision was for you, I really do. And I know that the only reason you want me to stay here is because you love me and don’t want me to leave everything I’ve made for myself here. And I know that going to New York for this internship will help you get a better job and pay for your mom’s medical bills. And I’m so, so sorry that I didn’t know this before, and even though you’re going to New York, I can’t lose you–”

Cyrus interrupts TJ’s rambling by pulling him flush into his body, pressing their lips together firmly. They slot together perfectly as their lips meet. TJ cups Cyrus’s cheek with a gentle touch, while Cyrus clutches his arms around TJ’s neck. Tears fall down both of their cheeks. They only break apart when they absolutely have to, gasping for breath. 

“You should probably come in,” Cyrus mentions breathlessly, opening the door, “or Buffy’s neighbors might throw a fit.”

TJ’s heart flutters. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

…

Cyrus makes them both cups of tea in silence. TJ waits at Buffy’s table, not knowing whether he should speak or let Cyrus speak when he’s ready. He ends up deciding to wait out of nerves. A few minutes later, Cyrus places a hot mug of steaming tea in front of him with one packet of sugar inside, just the way he likes it. 

“I don’t want to lose you, either,” Cyrus finally whispers. “In fact, I don’t know if I can get through this without you.”

“You don’t want to break up?”

“No, I really, really don’t. Unless you want to?”

“Never.”

Cyrus’s lips quirk upwards as he sips his tea. “I’m sorry for springing all this on you so fast. I should have been more sensitive.”

“No, I’m sorry for reacting so rashly without letting you explain yourself,” TJ apologizes, reaching over to touch Cyrus’s hand. 

They sip on their tea quietly for a while longer. Every drink TJ takes burns his mouth, but he doesn’t care, not when Cyrus is right in front of him. 

“I love you,” TJ promises, squeezing Cyrus’s hand. “I love you so much. And since you’re going to New York, I think I need to do this now.”

Cyrus looks at him, perplexed as TJ reaches into his coat pocket. His hand clenches around the little, velvet box that he’s had tucked away for months. 

“Cyrus, you’re the best person I’ve ever known, and you’ve made me better because of it. I don’t know if I could handle not being with you for the rest of our lives–in fact, I couldn’t imagine my life without you in it.” 

He pulls out the box and opens it up in one fluid motion, sinking down onto the floor on one knee. Cyrus’s eyes widen. He reaches for TJ’s arms. Tears bubble up in both of their eyes. Soon, Cyrus is sinking down alongside him. 

“Teej,” he gasps. “A-are you…?”

“I’m sure,” TJ affirms. “I’ve had this ring for a few months now, but I’ve been too scared. But I have to show you how much I care, how much I want to stay with you no matter what we go through. I know you’re going to New York for a while, but consider this a promise for later.”

Suddenly, Cyrus starts giggling. 

“What is it?” TJ worries, hands hovering over Cyrus. 

“I just…you never asked the question,” Cyrus mentions, smile widening. A blush forms bright on TJ’s cheeks. 

“Oh my–I can’t believe I forgot that part! Cyrus, will you–?”

Cyrus wraps his arms tightly around the other boy.

“Yes, TJ, I’ll marry you.”

[hobiorbit]

hopping into love III (m.)

pairing: (mainly) park jimin x hybrid!reader, hybrid!jeon jungkook x hybrid!reader. will probably contain future pairings warnings: male masturbation, blowjobs (m/f giving), panty kink, dirty talk, exhibitionism, voyeurism, creampie, threesome (m/m/f), reader is biologically female summary: In which Jimin has no idea what he’s getting himself into when he adopts you, and he finds both him and Jungkook sexually and romantically infatuated with you.

-

It only took you a couple months to wake up with a throbbing headache and an unpleasant pain in your stomach. When you trudged out of your room looking and feeling like death, Jimin immediately went to you.

“Sweetie, are you okay?” He murmured, pulling you close and clasping a hand against your forehead. You whimpered in pain, nodding your head yes despite your other body language that screamed no. “Oh no,” Your owner murmured, eyebrows scrunched together.

“Should I cancel dinner tonight with Taehyung and Hoseok? I can just go pick up Jungkook right now and we’ll stay in today so you don’t have to deal with everything.” Jimin said, in reference to his friend and his hybrid coming over. Jungkook had stayed the night before, and would be coming home with them for dinner as well as to play.

You immediately shook your head no, causing a shooting pain to float up your spine and into the back of your head. “I’m sure I’ll feel better by then… I don’t want you to cancel just because I don’t feel well. You and Jungkook have been excited about this for a while.” You murmured, stomach growling loudly afterward. You were unbelievably hungry.

Jimin giggled at the sound, bringing a hand up to rub against your head. “Is my bunny hungry? Sit down at the table and rest, I’ll make us some breakfast. How about some pancakes?” Jimin said, instantly making your eyes widen and your mouth salivate. “Yes, please!” You said in a rushed manner, moving as quickly to the table as you could.

“Anything for you!” Jimin told you, immediately getting to work and mixing blueberries into your batter, just the way you liked. As you waited, your pain began to subside. Sometimes it would come back in small spurts, but for the most parts things already began to look up. There were still sharp pains in your stomach sometimes, specifically whenever you’d focus on Jimin, or when you’d speak with him.

“Order up!” Jimin said as he placed the steaming plate in front of you. You immediately grabbed for your cutlery and syrup, getting straight to work. “Someone’s hungry.” Jimin teased, no actual malice in his tone. You nodded shyly, trying to slow yourself down. Your efforts quickly diminished when you had your first bite of the pancakes, ending up finishing them a couple of minutes. Jimin watched you in awe, wondering what you’d done to make you so hungry. When he saw your plate wiped clean, he looked at you questioningly.

“Do you want more? Usually you don’t eat this much. I don’t mind, it’s good to have a healthy appetite- did Jungkook make dinner for you before he left yesterday?” Jimin asked you. You nodded, not wanting Jungkook to be blamed for your sickness or seemingly endless stomach.

“He did! It’s not Jungkook’s fault- I’m sorry, Minie, I don’t really know what’s going on with me.” You told him honestly, pouting and clasping your hands in your lap. Jimin quickly stood up, grabbing your plate to load it with more food. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Y/N. As long as you’re safe and happy.” Jimin told you, and you knew he was being honest. It helped calm your nerves.

When Jimin came back with the last of your pancakes, you thanked him graciously. “No problem, baby.” He murmured, going back to his own food. After that, your stomach had a sharp pain in it again, making you grunt lightly. You stilled for a moment, waiting for it to continue. When it didn’t, you went back to scarfing down your pancakes.

Once you were satiated, which took about twice the amount of food than normal, you sat back in your chair feeling exhausted. Jimin seemed to notice from his position at the sink, nodding his head toward the bathroom in the hallway. “Why don’t you take a shower to get your energy levels back up, Y/N?” Jimin proposed. You nodded at the idea, carefully getting up from your seat and clasping at your stomach, which had been cramping.

“Okay, I’ll go do that.” You told him, going back to your room to pick out your outfit for the day, which would be simple- an over sized sweater and Jungkook’s favorite shorts of yours. You weren’t wearing them for Jungkook- Why would you be? They were just comfy, and you weren’t feeling the best. Yeah.

The water felt better than usual, and due to that you spent a lot more time in the shower you usually did- spending extra time on your hair, shaving and exfoliating- everything. Once you were out of the shower your skin was soft and rejuvenated, and to top it all off you even lathered yourself up with lotion after brushing your teeth.

“Felt good, huh?” Jimin asked you when you appeared in the living room. You nodded happily, scampering over to him and sitting on the couch next to him, barely paying any attention to what he was watching on TV. It wasn’t long before you laid yourself in his lap, basking in his warmth as well as his scent. Jimin thought nothing of it, automatically carding his hand into your hair and rubbing at your scalp, something he knew you loved.

You hummed and sighed in pleasure, eyes falling shut as you basked in the euphoric feeling. Jimin chuckled at your actions, cooing at you. “You just needed some TLC, huh? Got so lonely without Kookie and I, didn’t you, Y/N?” You nodded your head, nuzzling your face into his thigh as your hips wiggled. As if your shorts weren’t already short enough, your movements began to make them ride farther up, exposing part of your ass to Jimin’s gaze. He bit his lip, trying to avoid indecent thoughts.

Of course, you were as oblivious as always, nudging yourself farther into his body when his movements stilled. He smiled at you, trying not to focus on your exposed skin, or the fact that your face was deftly close to where his member lay underneath the fabric of his joggers.

In order to stop the progress of the situation and his thoughts, Jimin brought up a completely un-sexy topic of conversation. “Are you excited for tonight?” Jimin asked you, making your ears twitch. He held in his squeal at your cuteness. You turned your head on his lap to lock eyes with him.

“Yeah. Hoseokie is always super nice to me and he likes to cuddle with me, so that’s good. And Taetae is always super nice to me too, and he gives me lots of compliments.” You pondered. Jimin smiled at how much you craved attention. It was very different from how you acted when you were first adopted, doing anything you could to stay out of the way due to fear of annoying anyone. You were still shy, but you were finally coming around, and it made him happy.

“Of course Taehyung and Hoseok love you! You’re just so cute, Y/N. It’s impossible not to.” Jimin told you, pulling your hair back from your face so he could see all of your features. You puffed your cheeks out in embarrassment, not being able to handle such a direct complement. “Thanks, Jiminie…. You’re the best.” You said shyly, going back to burying your head in his lap and bathing in his attention. Before too long you fell asleep on his lap, and being the considerate owner he was, Jimin let you stay like that for a couple of hours. Well, until he decided he should probably get ready for company, gently shaking your shoulder to wake you up.

“Y/N… It’s time to get up, baby. I have to get ready and clean the house up a bit.” He told you, cooing when you yawned and rubbed at your eyes. You sat up slowly, gripping at your stomach, which was in even more pain than it was in the morning.

“Ow,” You whimpered, clutching at your stomach over the fabric of your sweat. Jimin leaned over immediately, clasping his hand over your own, making you arch your back into his hand, groaning in pain. “Oh god, Y/N, are you okay?” Jimin panicked. You nodded, teary eyed. “I’ll just take some hybrid Tylenol. I’ll be fine, Minie.” You tried to smile, but it came off more like a grimace. Jimin didn’t seem to believe you, but he knew how stubborn you could be, so he went to fetch some water and medicine for you. Everyone would be over in about an hour, and it would’ve been rude to cancel.

When he came back you were taking deep breaths on the couch, trying to calm the raging pain in your stomach. You hoped it would subside quickly like it did earlier, and that thought was the only thing you were holding on for. “Oh, Y/N, I’m so sorry sweetie.” Jimin whined when he saw your state. He gave you the water and held out the pills so you could take them at your own pace, which was a lot slower than usual due to the pain.

“Don’t worry… ‘S not your fault.” You breathed through your teeth, trying to smile at him. “Why don’t you go set up? I’ll wait here for the pain to pass.” You told him, laying back to try and find a comfortable position and grabbing a throw blanket to cover yourself with.

Jimin decided to listen to you, giving you a kiss on your forehead before going to clean up any messes as well as changing his clothes. Maybe he’d do some food prep while you were out of commission.

Truth be told, you were on the couch in pain until about ten minutes before your guests arrived. Once the pain started to subside a generous amount, you sprung up from the couch and folded up your throw blanket, padding along the wooden floors to find your owner. He was putting away the food he prepped, giving you a large smile when he saw you up and moving. Once everything was packed away in the fridge, he walked over to give you a gentle hug.

“Feeling better?” He murmured into your hair. You nodded as you let him hold you against his chest. “For now.” You mumbled back, sinking further into his embrace. Jimin would’ve indulged you if it weren’t for a knock on the door, making him tear away from you.

“Coming!” Jimin yelled as he walked to the door, opening it and immediately being engulfed into a hug by Taehyung. Jungkook and Hoseok happily walked by the two’s embrace, sniffing you out and coming to you to greet you. They were smiling, but as they got closer they seemed to become more tense.

You looked at them curiously, watching as Hoseok’s smile became terse. Even despite the weird aura surrounding him, he still went to pull you into a hug. You always adored the older hybrid, enjoying that he’d indulge in the more childish side of yourself. “Hi Hoseokie,” You said happily, wrapping your arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms around your waist, immediately bringing his nose down to your neck so he could scent you. It was something Jungkook always hated, a little pet peeve of his- whenever Hoseok would leave the house he would be all over you, erasing the other hybrid’s smell.

Nothing was weird about Hoseok’s behavior, until he stood there for longer than he usually did. When Jungkook tried to get closer and say hello to you, a loud growl ripped through Hoseok’s throat. Even with Hoseok being a dog hybrid, Jungkook hardly seemed scared. He seemed mad, actually.

“Seok,” You could hear Taehyung’s deep voice from behind you. Hoseok reluctantly pulling away from you, giving a side glance to Jungkook before obediently going to join his owner at his side. Jungkook walked over to you, protectively wrapping his arm around your waist while aggressively sniffing at your neck. You could see Jimin’s worry, the emotion very obviously etched across his features. The sudden aggressiveness concerning you made the man uncomfortable, considering it had never been a problem before. Sure, the two would get protective, both being dominant males, but it never felt so tense.

“What do you think that was about?” Jimin asked Taehyung as the five of you began migrating to the living room, where everyone decided the movie night would be spent. Taehyung shrugged his shoulders, seeming just as clueless and surprised as your owner. They weren’t alone, because their behavior was confusing, even to you.

However, within a couple of minutes the awkwardness dissipated and was replaced with excited chatter. There were multiple conversations bouncing forward and backward, some completely odd and others concerning what movies you’d all be watching. Jungkook and Hoseok had practically forced you to sit in between them, something you didn’t have a problem with as long as you got a blanket.

“We should watch this one!” Taehyung said loudly, holding up a DVD case. It was supposed to be a romantic movie- well, a romantic comedy, but usually anything in the genre was hardly anything of either. You didn’t really care- ever since you were adopted, you could find yourself becoming interested in all movies, no matter how poor quality it might have been. Jimin groaned, but as soon as Taehyung started to pout he agreed. Giddily, the other man set up the movie, turning off the lamps in the room before jumping onto the couch.

Unsurprisingly, the movie began to follow the same cliche storyline every other romantic movie seemed to follow. As you gained more experience with different movies, you wondered what was so addicting about the combination of events every movie seemed to follow- especially when the formula didn’t guarantee success, or in some cases, even mediocrity.

You found yourself watching intently, nonetheless. The room was silent except for the comments one of you would make once in a while, the sound and dialogue from the movie filling in the rest of the way. You found yourself leaning your head on Hoseok’s shoulder, simply due to tiredness. Jungkook’s hand found it’s way onto your thigh under the blanket. It wouldn’t have been odd if he’d chosen any other place- on most occasions, Jungkook enjoyed having even a little bit of physical contact. He’d never been the type to latch onto your thigh, though- waist, sure.

Shooting him a questioning glance only to find his gaze fixated on the TV, you gave a minuscule shrug and went back to watching the movie.

Except the pain was coming back, and it was hard to focus on anything beside Jungkook’s hand on your thigh. It felt like you were burning, being eaten up on the inside by something less than good. Hoseok’s and Jungkook’s scents flooded your nose, and you wanted to get on the floor. Beg them to do something, beg them to make the pain stop, beg them to make you feel better. How? You weren’t so sure, but every single one of your instincts were telling you that your medicine were the hybrids you were sandwiched in between.

Hoseok began breathing heavily and Jungkook began to inhale deeply, nostrils flared as his grip on your thigh tightened. You let out a small whimper, whether out of pain or pleasure or desparation you weren’t sure. That seemed to be Hoseok’s breaking point, as he immediately ripped the blanket from you and tore Jungkook’s hand away from you, dragging you into his body as if you weighed nothing.

And instead of fighting back against the sudden physicality, instead of screaming in fear or yelling in anger, you moaned. The type of moan your whole body went into, and if it were any other time you would’ve been embarrassed, but in that moment you just couldn’t seem to care.

“Get off her!” Jungkook yelled, practically growling at the way Hoseok handled you, at the way he thought he owned you. You were Jungkook’s doe, not Hoseok’s bitch. He’d make you know it, make everyone in the room know it. He had no problem putting you on your hands and knees, breeding you in front of their prying eyes.

“Woah- you guys! Stop!” Taehyung and Jimin both yelled, standing abruptly. You were whimpering in Hoseok’s hold, almost drooling by now. “Someone, please do something. Kookie…” You said lowly. You weren’t even sure what you were asking of him.

“Jimin… Did you let me bring Hoseok over here while Y/N is in heat?” Taehyung asked astonished, finally putting the puzzle pieces together. Jimin looked mortified, mouth open in a silent gasp as he quickly shook his head. “Oh my god- I had no idea! I thought she was sick! Taehyung, I’m so sorry.” Jimin said desperately, feeling stupid for not realizing your condition earlier. You heard the faint mention of heat, knowing it had something to do with you.

Taehyung rolled his eyes but didn’t appear mad, putting a hand on Hoseok’s shoulder to calm his hybrid down. “Come on, Hobi. You know you can’t do this, Kookie’s got Y/N claimed already.” Taehyung said softly, making Hoseok frown but comply. He let you go, and Jungkook immediately went to steady you. You went to nosing his neck, sniffing and licking all the skin you could get to as soft moans escaped your throat.

“Tae, I promise I’ll make it up to you… Once Y/N is okay.” Jimin said sadly. Taehyung threw his head back and laughed, still ushering Hoseok out of the house. “Don’t worry, she’ll be fine… Now have fun!” He winked before closing the door, leaving Jimin to be flustered in yours and Jungkook’s presence.

“Gonna fuck you so good, bunny… Gonna fill your sweet little pussy up with my kits, make you nice and full. You want that, baby? Want me to make you feel good? Make you pregnant?” Jungkook was whispering pure filth into your ear. Well, not whispering, considering Jimin could hear it from his position a couple feet away. You were a whimpering mess, barely able to stand if the wobbling of your knees was anything to go off of.

“Kook…” Jimin said, not knowing exactly what he should’ve done. Part of him felt indescribably jealous, the selfish side of him telling him he should get Jungkook away from you and take care of you himself, and the more rational side telling him that the best thing to get you through your first heat was a partner. Specifically, a hybrid partner. Jungkook looked up at him from where he was latched onto your skin, sucking rosy marks all over it.

“She’s in heat, hyung. This is something she can’t go through alone- just let me take care of at least the beginning part. I’m not gonna exile you or anything, you can help out later…. Would you like that, pretty bunny? Want Jimin and I to take care of you and stuff you full?” Jungkook trailed off, reaching down to grab a handful of your ass through your silk shorts, making him give a throaty groan.

Jimin found himself nodding vigorously, excited at the prospect of touching you. He could feel his pants tent when you moaned aloud. “Yes, Kookie! Want you and Minie to help me. Make it stop, Kookie.” You whimpered, clawing at the other hybrid’s chest. Jungkook bent down to pick you up, locking your legs around his waist before taking you to your room. You’d be spending a lot of time in there.

Deciding there was no time for being shy, Jungkook began stripping himself. When he was naked and his cock stood proudly in front of you, you began to moan again, spreading your legs automatically. Jungkook chuckled, climbing onto the bed and getting rid of your clothing as quick as he could. He tapped your clit a couple times, groaning when you began to keen, arching yourself into his touch. Once your clothes were removed you immediately began to roll over and present yourself to him.

It was a beautiful sight. Jimin had followed the both of you in, taking a seat at the edge of the bed and palming himself over his pants, looking at your pretty pussy dripping with slick. Your back was arched so softly, the plump shape of your ass and the wetness of your cunt being the most inviting sight either of the boys had ever seen.

When you got no stimulation, you began to wiggle your hips to entice the male, or males, behind you. This sent Jungkook into a frenzy, barely being able to think about anything but grabbing you by the hips and fucking you like you needed him to.

“Such a good little doe,” Jungkook said, rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your pussy. You pushed back onto him, trying to do anything to get him inside. Deciding you’d been in pain for more than long enough, Jungkook gave you exactly what you craved and slammed his cock inside your virgin walls, making you cry out in pleasure.

It should’ve been painful, there should’ve been comfort. Thanks to the heat and your desperate arousal, you only felt pleasure. The older hybrid began an unforgiving pace, pushing into you so hard and deep that you inched up higher on the bed with every thrust.

“So tight, baby. Your pussy’s so good, milking my cock just right. You feel good, bunny?” Jungkook asked, leaning over your back and breathing heavily into your ear. There was no way you could find words to response, pleased sounds coming from your lips whenever you opened your mouth.

It was a shame Jungkook couldn’t see your full face, but Jimin was able to due to his position on the bed. You looked absolutely wrecked in the most beautiful way possible. Hair mussed up from activity, skin glistening with sweat, saliva running down your lips from the stimulation. Your eyes were glossed in what the human could only call euphoria, and it made him want you to be wrecked even more.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” Jungkook breathed harshly, pulling back to put his hand on your hips to intensify his speed. His free hand snaked around the underside of your body, beginning to mercilessly rub at your clit. You whimpered loudly at the feeling. “Kookie!” You whined, quickly squeezing tighter around his cock, a clear signal you were going to cum.

“That's it baby, cum for me, let go. Milk my cock for everything I’ve got.” Jungkook encouraged you, tone soft despite the absolute filth pouring from his mouth. You did exactly what you were told, body jerking as you were blinded with white due to the sheer power of your orgasm. Jungkook worked you through your high, cumming shortly after you did, filling you up with his cum.

“Gonna make you pregnant, bunny… Can’t wait to see you so full.” Jungkook moaned, keeping his cock inside you while he calmed down, laying the two of you on your sides so he could pat your belly. When your breathing returned to normal, Jungkook slipped out of you, making you whine at the loss of contact.

“You did so good, Y/N.” Jungkook pressed a kiss to your shoulder, moving to sit at the edge of your bed. “Jiminie,” You said, reaching out and making grabby hands for him. The heat had calmed down generously but you were still needy as hell. Jimin seemed to sense the desperation in your voice.

“Not tired yet, huh sweetie?” Jimin said teasingly, silently thanking the powers above. He wouldn’t have encouraged you to continue if you hadn’t wanted to, but he thought he was going to die from blue balls. You nodded in embarrassment, covering your eyes with your arm as you rolled onto your back and spread your legs for him.

Jungkook’s cum came squelching out of you, running down your pretty, abused folds and painting them translucent white. You could hear Jungkook’s groan of pleasure. Jimin had removed his pants and boxers, pumping his thick cock before he went in. He was sure you could take it, but it was better safe than sorry.

“Let me see that beautiful face, Y/N.” Jimin cooed, reaching forward and grabbing your arm, not letting it go until it laid at your side. Your eyes were glossy and your cheeks were moist with tears of pleasure. Jimin leaned forward and locked lips with you in a passionate kiss, staying like that for a couple of seconds. He groaned into your mouth, grabbing hold of his cock and positioning it at your hole before pushing in, causing your arch to back as you moaned into him. “Is it good, baby?” Jimin asked you, warm breath fanning over your face as he began more gentle, but still mind blowing pace. You nodded quickly.

“Words, Y/N. Let hyung know how good he’s making you feel.” Jungkook chastised from the edge of the bed, hand already wrapped around his cock for another go. You bit your lip at the sight before focusing back on Jimin. “It’s so good, Minie… Makes me feel so good. It’s so big! You make me so full…” You rambled, throwing your head back as he increased his pace.

“Fuck baby, you’re so good for me. So good for us. You know that? How long we’ve loved you?” Jimin moaned, bringing a hand up to cup your breast and pinch at your nipple. Even through the haze of your heat, you could feel the love Jimin’s words had for you and how much weight they carried. It was such an odd way to confess, yet such a fitting situation for the three of you.

You moaned aloud at the praise, bringing your own hand up to wrap itself in Jimin’s hair. “I- ugh, I love you guys too,” You keened, hips bucking up in time with Jimin’s thrusts. You could hear Jungkook’s moan of release, a sign that he’d came all over himself. “You gonna cum again, Y/N? Do it, baby. One more time, you can do it.” Jimn encouraged, finding himself coming dangerously close to his peak. Lucky for him you started spasming immediately after he stopped talking, throwing him into an orgasmic moment. He came inside you, didn’t stop thrusting until you were whining in over stimulation, weakly pushing at his pelvis. He slipped out of you, falling on the bed next to you.

Jungkook laid on your other side, bringing a blanket over the three of your bodies as you sat in silence, regaining your breath.

“I meant it.” Jimin said out of nowhere, making you and Jungkook look at him questioningly. “Meant what?” You asked softly. He turned to you, kissing you and leaning over to ruffle Jungkook’s hair. “I love you, and I have for a long time. You too, Kookie.” Jimni said, voice quiet as if he was afraid of rejection. You were surprised at his confession, something that transferred to Jungkook as well.

“I love you too. Both of you.” You added quietly, holding Jimin’s hand over the blanket to try and ease his anxiety. He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I, um, you know. I feel the same way.” Jungkook said embarrassed, all of his earlier cockiness leaving him. You giggled, as did Jimin.

“Oh, Jungkook looooves us, Y/N! How cute!” Jimin said, making you laugh out loud. Jungkook rolled his eyes. “I’d totally fight back but I’m beat. Let’s just take a nap in this nasty bed.” He yawned, making you nod in agreement to his notion. Jimin groaned in disgust but made no move to leave, opting to hug your bad as Jungkook did to your front.

And so, that was how you spent the first night of your heat. Sandwiched between the two men you love.

Well, until three in the morning- then you had Jimin fuck you with his fingers while Jungkook whispered words of praise into your ear, trying to get you to your peak as fast as possible. Honestly, it was the best night you ever had.

[littlebtswriter]

bts reaction / you being clingy

request:  Bts reaction to you being needy/clingy while they’re busy?

a/n: hopefully this satisfies your longing for bts cuddles, my dear.

genre: you already know it’s gonna be fluffy af

warnings: language 

n a m j o o n

You really needed some Namjoon cuddles. It wasn’t because of a bad day or anything stressful, you just needed him. It was an overcast day, dreary and rainy with gray clouds covering the sky like a thick blanket. The weather made you feel sleepy the whole day, longing to be in bed watching the shadows dance over the crisp white sheets with your legs and arms tangled with Namjoon’s.

He wasn’t necessarily busy, but you just didn’t want to bother him as he kept to himself the whole day in his studio. He came out every now and then to get a snack or talk with his fellow members, and steal a kiss from you, but neither of you had any cuddling time yet.

You decided to at least spend some time with him in his studio when you couldn’t take laying alone in bed reading a book any longer. You texted him first and asked if he was doing a vlive in his studio, not wanting to walk in on him and be wearing your oversized flannel and tiny shorts in front of thousands of onlookers.

He informed you he wasn’t and was just procrastinating on the computer. You bounded towards his studio with a smile.

“Hey sweetheart,” He smiled when you came in, swirling in his chair to face you. “You look cute.”

You smiled back rubbing your upper arms and yawning. “Whatcha doing?” You asked, coming to his chair and sitting on his lap. He wrapped his arms around you and stroked your thighs lovingly.

“Just messing with some sounds on this track.” He said rolling you both back to the desk and tapping the space bar on the keyboard. An eclectic beat began pulsing through the loudspeaker. You nodded your head to the beat, smiling as you heard Namjoon making cute noises behind you as he tried to follow along with the beats.

His hands tapped the beat on your thighs as he made his little sounds. He was most likely completely unaware of his actions, which made it so much more adorable. You giggled and leaned back against him.

“What do you think?” He asked, after the music stopped. You put your finger on the dimple in his left cheek, smiling. “I love it baby, especially your added sound effects.” A blush crept up his cheeks and he buried his face in your shoulder, giggling.

j i n

Jin had just gotten back from the tour yesterday, late at night, and slept all the next day. You slept with him for a little bit, but eventually you did have to get up and go about your day when morning came.

You went into the bedroom a couple of times to check on him and see if maybe he wanted cuddle with you and tell you about the tour. But, he was so exhausted from jet lag and getting sick on the plane ride back, he didn’t want to wake up.

Once it was late afternoon and you had just come back from running errands, you went into the bedroom to check on him. He was still in bed, his eyes closed and and his lips parted as he breathed softly, his arms wrapped around his pillow.

You smiled at his sleeping form, grabbing some comfy shorts and a soft sweater. As you unbuttoned your jeans and let them fall to the ground, you heard shuffling in the bed. You turned to find Jin rubbing his eyes.

“Hey sweetie, how are you feeling?” You asked, kicking off your jeans and pulling up your shorts. Jin yawned, his eyes half closed. “I’m so sleepy still, and I have a terrible headache.” He murmured, sounding like a pitiful puppy.

“I’m sorry, baby.” You told him, sighing in relief at the feeling of taking off your bra and tossed it to the side. You slipped the sweater over your head. “Can I cuddle with you? I’ve been itching to all day, but you’ve been a sleepy, grumpy lump.” You said, coming over to the bed and brushing the hair from his face.

He nodded, his eyes still closed as he ran his hand up the back of your leg, his thumbs drawing small circles on the back of your thigh. You climbed up next to him, snuggling under the sheets. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling up you shirt to rub circles on the soft, warm skin of your back. “Sorry I haven’t been the best boyfriend today, jagi.” He murmured, sleepily as he began to drift off again.

You laid your head on his chest. “It’s alright, babe, you’re tired, I get it. But, I’m glad you’re letting me cuddle you now because I sure have missed this.”

y o o n g i

“Oh my god. I swear my body is trying to fucking kill me right now.” You groaned, clutching you midsection as you laid on Yoongi’s couch in his studio.

“When was the last time you changed your tampon?” Yoongi murmured, not even phased by your outburst as he adjusted his headphones and tapped something on his computer.

“I don’t know,” You sighed, massaging your temples and grimacing as another wave of cramps hit you.

Yoongi picked up his phone, glancing at it for a few seconds before saying, “It’s been almost four hours, my timer is almost up.” He said, setting his phone down and going back to squinting at his computer.

You raised your eyebrows. “Wait, a timer?”

“Yeah, I set a timer every time you change your tampon.” He said nonchalantly.

Silence.

He turned to you after you didn’t say anything. “What? You always forget everything, especially putting in a new tampon. I can’t have you getting toxic shock syndrome from those little shits.”

You weren't sure whether to feel impressed or just weird, probably a bit of both. 

Groaning again as another wave of pain hit your lower regions, you turned on your side. “Yoongi, can you please take a break and cuddle with me for a bit? I really don’t feel good.” You whimpered, tears forming in the corners of your eyes.

You felt hot and clamy and gross and just wanted your small, gentle boyfriend to spoon you. Sighing, Yoongi removed his headphones and got up from his chair, coming over to the couch. You scooted against the back of the couch so he could lay facing you.

He smiled cutely, licking his lips as he slipped his hands under your shirt to rub your cramping midsection. You wrapped around his small waist and closed your eyes.

“Thanks for putting up with my whiny ass. I love you.”

h o s e o k

“You need to take a break soon, babe.” You yawned draping your arms around Hoseok’s neck and kisses it gently. He had been working for the past four hours at his computer, not getting up once.

“My mixtape comes first,” He said, distracted as he typed away. You gave him a few more neck kisses, biting down slightly. “Oh shit! Don’t do that!” Hoseok jumped, his hand flying to cover his heart. “That scared me.” He said, looking shocked.

You sighed, giving his shoulders a quick rub before sitting on his couch. “Could you at least take a break and come readjust my back for me? It’s been hurting all day.” You said, longing for him to just get off the computer and come cuddle for a bit. Plus Hoseok was really good at being gentle and adjusting your back and neck when they ached.

“Sure baby, just give me a few more minutes.” He said, giving you a smile and a wink before turning back to his computer.

j i m i n

Jimin got a call from you right in the middle of his dance practice. He was in the studio alone that day, wanting to work on a few things alone before the group rehearsed together.

“Yeah? What’s up, babe?” He asked through labored breath, running his fingers through his hair.

“Just wanted to check on you. You’ve been gone all day and I kind of needs some of your cuddles right about now.” You said, feeling dumb for saying it, but you’d had a slow day and needing some cheering up.

Jimin laughed over the phone, a little squeak escaping his lips. “Ah jagi, you’re so needy.”

“Shut your hole, ChimChim. You’re the one clinging to me next every five seconds and jumping on me when I’m sitting on the couch.” You snapped back, grinning.

“Do you want cuddles or not?”

“I do! I’m sorry!” You nearly shouted.

Jimin laughed again. “Alright, I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Start a shower for us, I don’t think you’ll want to cuddle me when I’m this sweaty.”

t a e h y u n g

Taehyung woke up first, needing the restroom. But, with you laying directly on top of him, it was a struggle to get up. “Jagi . . . “ he moaned, attempting to push you off of him. You groaned in your sleep, wrapping you arms around his neck and snuggling against him.

“Can you get off? I really need to pee.” He said, poking your side. “You’re so warm though.”  You mumled sleepy, your eyes half closed. Taehyung squirmed out of your grasp, sliding off the bed. He laughs at you in his deep, sexy voice when you make grabby hands at him to come back.

“Oh my God, you’re so cute.” He giggled. “I’ll be right back. Then I’ll snuggle again.”

j u n g k o o k

Jungkook had been playing video games all day. It was a free day, the first one he’d had in weeks, and playing Overwatch was all he wanted to do. You thought maybe cuddling with you or maybe even some sexy time would be something he wanted, but nope, playing video games with Taehyung was it.

“Hey, why don’t you guys just date each other?” You holler from the couch as Tae and Jungkook hug and scream after finally defeating a level. They both laugh at you and you just throw a pillow at them.

“Aw, what’s up with you?” Jungkook asked, pausing the game to look at your sulking self laying on the couch. “You haven’t given me cuddles all day, Jeon Jungkook!” You said, in fake anger. “You know how grumpy I get without you cuddles.”

Jungkook sighed, falling backwards from his cross -legged position on the ground. “Aish, I forgot.” He said, jumping up and running towards you. You let out a shriek as he jumped on top of you and squished you in his arms.

“I love my little jagi so much.” He cooed.

masterlist

[mollymauk-teafleak]

my heart is hitting the ground (Chapter Two)

Second part of my Urban Fantasy/College AU for widomauk! A huge and sincere thanks to @minky-for-short for talking me through writer’s block and reminding me what colour Mollymauk’s eyes are when I forgot :’) Also thanks to my ever patient girlfriend @soft-bram for letting me go on and on about Critical Role all the time. 

And the biggest thanks ever to @rabdoidal who inspired this whole fic with his incredible fan art which I really just can’t get enough of, he’s an insanely talented artist

Please reblog and let me know what you thought, feedback really means a lot to writers

First Chapter | Ao3 | Ko-fi

Mollymauk had apparently learned nothing from last week when the pen he was chewing thoughtfully on cracked in his mouth and spilled ink over his tongue, staining it a colour not far from the colour of his skin for nearly a day. He just couldn’t help it, especially not when the random scraps of lyrics he had floating around in his brain were stubbornly refusing to properly arrange themselves into a song. He sighed in frustration at the journal page, still blank after half an hour, and rearranged himself on the sofa he was currently splayed across, throwing one leg over the back of it and flicking his tail idly from side to side, as if that would rattle something loose.

“You can do that in your room you know,” Yasha commented flatly from the kitchen table, not looking up from her breakfast or her newspaper.

“I like the light better in here!” Molly insisted, arching back off the arm of the sofa so he could eye her from upside down, “And besides, what’s the point of sighing if no one hears me?”

“What indeed…” his roommate muttered, rolling her eyes. Not that she’d expected anything else from him, “I just wouldn’t spend too much time on that couch, is all. It’s probably got fleas or something, I found it on the end of the block. Didn’t get a chance to clean it yet.”

Molly wrinkled his nose, jumping up so quickly he nearly ran into the coffee table, “Yasha! You promised me no more street furniture!”

“Hey,” Yasha jerked her spoon at him, “I carried that single handed all the way up to this apartment so some appreciation would be nice.”

Molly stuck his tongue out at her as he folded his lanky body into the chair across from her, slapping his notebook down between them, as if that was going to jostle the odd words and phrases into a proper song.

Yasha pulled a face, “Look, I’ll stop getting couches off the street if you start wearing some damn clothes around here.”

Molly huffed and twitched the silk robe he was wearing (sort of wearing) until it covered a little more of his chest and thighs, knotting it loosely. As far as he was concerned, a pair of underwear and a robe was perfectly acceptable attire for noon on a Sunday but he knew better than to push Yasha too far. She could pick him up all the way off the floor if she wanted to.

He ran his fingers through his bedraggled hair, lying tangled around his horns in the way it always did without nearly an hour of dedicated grooming in front of the bathroom mirror. “I’m having a brain block,” he announced grandly, trying to get his roommate’s attention back on him.

“Are you now?” Yasha didn’t sound particularly interested as she flicked a page over idly, wondering how her attempts to get him to go to his room had been interpreted as an invitation to disrupt her morning even further.

“I am,” Molly frowned, splaying across the table to see if he could get in her eyeline, “I’m having feelings, Yash, big feelings. But they won’t turn into songs. If I can’t properly channel my emotions into my art, I’m never going to be a successful musician.”

Yasha flashed him a look, making no effort to hide her exasperation, “You know, I bet most successful musicians don’t spend their time lounging all over their apartments in their underwear. Maybe actually doing something would help. Like sorting the laundry you said you’d do three days ago or actually getting some fresh air and natural sunlight. You could come to the gym with me? Endorphins, man.”

Molly clicked his tongue against his teeth, “Not a great idea. Hooked up with the guy at the front desk and haven’t called him back.”

Yasha pinched the bridge of her nose, scowling, “I told you…I fucking told you that was a bad idea,  if I have to avoid another place because of you, I can’t keep up…”

The tiefling drowned out her grumbling with another world-weary sigh, not in the mood to hear her opinions on his love life yet again, “I just feel so…out of sorts…” he slapped his hand on the table decisively, as if struck by an ingenious realisation, nearly upending the vase of flowers, “I should smoke some more weed! That always gets the lyrics flowing!”

Defeated, the newspaper was flipped closed and a pair of heavy lidded, mismatched eyes fixed sternly on Molly. In signing up to be his roommate, after a few months of working together at the community theatre, she hadn’t realised she’d also become his guitarist, his life coach, his impulse control and his guardian angel as well. It wasn’t exactly what she’d wanted but Molly cooked like a dream and didn’t keep her up all night so she’d learned to stomach it.

“Kay,” she told him sternly, “We’re gonna swap out the drugs for a more socially acceptable one and get you out of the apartment. Go fetch some coffee.”

The tiefling’s face fall, “Aw, come on, it’s not my turn! ! And besides, I hate ordering for you, the barista looks at me like I’m crazy when I ask for six espresso shots in one cup…”

“Bullshit, I went the day before yesterday.”

The two stared at each other, Molly’s restless red eyes fixed on Yasha’s heavily eyeliner ringed ones. After a few moments, they both shrugged holding out their fists and tapping them three times against the table. Yasha threw scissors, Molly threw paper.

He wailed at his defeat, “You always go scissors!”

She arched her eyebrow at him, “Then why don’t you always go rock, smart guy?”

He had no answer to that but to reach over and knock her paper off the table, like a particularly ornery cat, before getting up and flouncing off in a whirl of embroidered black silk and a flash of a middle finger, slamming the door to his bedroom for good measure.

Yasha huffed out a low rumbling chuckle as the noise of the moodiest shower ever taken echoed through their tiny, cramped apartment. She wondered briefly if her idiot of a best friend was actually going to realise what was bothering him so much, what was written so clearly on his face and in the way he’d been fidgeting all over the place for hours now.

If he didn’t catch on soon, she was going to have to tell him. No way in hell she was dealing with a moony eyed, love struck Mollymauk for much longer.

Knowing how much he hated the cold and seeing the fractal dusting of frost clinging to the outside of his tiny window, Molly dressed accordingly in billowy harem pants and a tight turtleneck sweater which was a bitch to get over his horns but he looked so good in it, it was decidedly worth it. As he tamed his hair, his sharp face illuminated by the fairy lights he wound around his mirror, he found his thoughts drifting away from the soft song emanating from his aged little radio, even though it was a favourite, and back to last night.

It had been a pretty good gig, all things considered. The crowd was a little thin but that was always true of their shows no matter how many flyers Molly hopefully pasted in the windows of the borough book shops and music shops and all over the academy’s campus. The underground bar didn’t have a dry ice machine, which was a little disappointing but he’d remembered all the words and Yasha hadn’t missed a single note, as dependable as she ever was. It was the kind of gig he usually firmly told himself afterwards, usually after patronising the bar itself and blowing most of their fee, would just be a stepping stone to bigger and better things.

So why couldn’t he get the night out of his head?

Well, there was that guy.

The guy with the long hair and the cute, if a little indistinguishable, accent and the look of someone who’d ran through a thrift shop with a blindfold on to choose his clothes. Molly had never actually had someone approach him after any of his shows, much less someone who’d actually praised his songs rather than asking him to keep it down. Sure, the guy had been plastered and swayed where he was standing but Molly was taking all the positive feedback he could get right now.

And he’d asked for his number. And honestly, past the slurring that meant he wasn’t sure if his name was Caleb or Callum and the spilling some of his loosely held drink on Molly’s boots, it was a face he’d be more than happy to see in daylight.

Molly turned the brush wrong, distracted, and accidentally yanked on his hair, making him hiss in pain. Sighing he tossed it over his shoulder and shrugged into his coat.

He was being stupid. As much as Yasha had teased him about the guy, asking if that was the future Mr Tealeaf he was talking to, finally found after all this searching, Molly had only flicked her with his tail and rolled his eyes, insisting that the prospect of that name would send him running for sure, if nothing else did. And it wasn’t like much searching had ever gone on, there was no sense in searching for something that didn’t exist. As nice as it would be.

The tiefling winced at the cold as he left their apartment building and began to stride as fast as he could through the nearly empty streets, everyone else clearly having something far better to be doing with their Sunday. The frost and the wind froze the last of his hope from the night before. Most likely the cute guy had woken up, probably with a gross taste in his mouth and a pounding headache, regretting their conversation with a passion. Most likely Mollymauk had been given up as a bad decision, and not for the first time in his life, lined up along with those last few whiskeys he’d noticed the guy knocking back.

Molly remembered noting it with appreciation, whiskey was such a pleasant thing to taste in a kiss…

He sighed, heading for the café they always frequented, just a few blocks away. Maybe next time.

[farmhandler]

Cinderella AU

Rated: T

Pairing: Jack/Johnny, aka “Samurai Bravo”

Word Count: 11k~

A/N: This is a gift for the lovely @c2ndy2c1d. She wanted the classic cinderella story but with that samurai bravo twist, so I did my best to create a universe that could house the two of them and would still make sense. It’s a little silly and not too serious so I hope you like it bb <3 Note: fixed the issue where it redirects to a blog that doesn’t exist. It should work now! Also, it looks like it removed my breaks that would separate scenes, so I apologize if some seem to run together

Once upon a time, there was a poor man named Johnnella.

So poor was he that he was forced to scrub floors and clean gutters day in and day out, working tirelessly for people that did not care about him. They were cruel; cruel enough to call him Johnnella, which was not his birth name, no, but something that his step-siblings had started calling him as he grew older.

‘Johnnella’ sat up from where he’d been scrubbing at the floor and placed his hands on his hips.

“Oh, come on, little neighbor girl, the name’s Johnny!” he exclaimed, waving the soap-covered brush for emphasis. “Johnny Bravo.”

Johnnella—Johnny, as it were, hated scrubbing the floors. It was perhaps the worst of the jobs that his step-father gave him. It was tough and grueling, and by the end of the day his back was screaming for relief.

“Good work, my boy,” came a voice from behind him. The unmistakable voice of his step-father, aptly named ‘Pops’. “Though you missed spot on your left.”

Johnny sat up, brushing aside errant strands of his gorgeous blonde hair, weighed down by a day’s worth of sweat and grime. Pops gave him a quick once over before he decided that Johnny wasn’t worth his time and ascended the stairs to the upper floor, likely into his study.

If Johnny had his way, he wouldn’t be here, scrubbing the dirty, unwashed floor; it would be his siblings, or at the very least someone that was paid to do it. As it stood, Johnny had no choice; Pops had taken him in as a young child and considered his work payment for all that he had done for him.

More voices joined Pops’, a cacophony of sound that threatened to give Johnny a headache.

“Johnnella~”

“Johnnella!”

The peanut gallery, he called them. What he wouldn’t give to say it to their faces.

“What,” he said, declaring this with a flick of his brush, sending specks of dirt at Carl. “do you guys want? I’m kinda busy, if you don’t mind.”

Not only were Carl and Suzy treated a fair amount better than Johnny, but they also needled Johnny at every opportunity, acting as though they were interested in anything but tormenting him.

“You don’t look busy at all!” said Suzy, hopping into place next to him. “You’re cleaning the floor, like you always do.”

“Maybe you should give it a try,” he grumbled, shoving the brush forcefully against the tiles. “Don’t you two have anything better to do than bother me while I’m workin’?”

Suzy blinked, then looked at Carl.

“Nope,” she replied.

Johnny wished for the thousandth time that anyone else on the planet had taken him in. Preferably a beautiful woman. Maybe three.

He didn’t remember his mom much before she married Pops, and his dad had left the picture long before he was born. His mom died not long after Pops moved in, leaving him without any parental figures growing up.

Johnny did what he had to do—and then some—but for Pops it was never enough.

As if on cue, his step-father’s thundering voice came from upper floor.

“Johnny!” he called. “What happened to your mom’s flowers?”

Johnny winced. He’d hoped it wouldn’t be noticeable right away. All he’d wanted to do was give them a little more water.

“I just gave them a little more water!”

“You killed them!” Pops came into view from the top of the stairs, red-faced and fuming. “I bought those just yesterday!”

“Aw, come on, Pops, I was just tryin’ to help,” Johnny said, his voice running suspiciously close to a whine.

“Help shmelp! When you’re finished with that floor I want you back in your room for the rest of the day.”

“Aw, man!” Johnny pouted, tempted to argue against it. There was no point, not when Pops was in charge.

The day went on slowly, miserably, and by nightfall Johnny had driven himself into a depressed corner of the house, sweeping the same spot on the floor a hundred times over in an effort to give him a few more moments before he was forced to return to his cramped room up in the attic.

Just as he was contemplating jumping out the nearest window, a voice to his left caught his attention and Johnny turned his head. Carl had just come out of the kitchen doors and was whispering something frantically to Pops, who’d been waiting on the other side.

Now that he thought about it, Carl and Suzy hadn’t been up to bothering him since that morning. Johnny raised an eyebrow and waited until Pops departed before he made his move.

“What were you talking about? You two were whispering up a storm.”

Carl squeaked, something that happened only when Johnny crept up on him, which was fairly often.

“What? Talking?” Carl laughed, trying to play it off, but it was clear he was hiding something. “We were…uh…talking about some new renovations!”

“Renovations?” Johnny cocked his head. “I didn’t hear anything about that.”

“That’s because we just, uh, started talking about it now!”

Carl’s smile was strained, begging Johnny to stop asking, which naturally made him want to do so even more.

“Fine, don’t tell me.” Johnny shrugged, turning away from Carl. He had been around him long enough to know his one weakness: when people acted like they didn’t care about him. Based on the pout of his lips, Johnny could tell that Carl couldn’t stand knowing that someone wasn’t interested, and mentally rewarded himself with a pat on the back when he yanked him away from the kitchen doors.

“Don’t go!” he cried, lowering his voice into a whisper. “I’m…not supposed to tell you. Pops would kill me if you knew. But it’s not like you could do anything, anyway.”

“Knew what?”

“About the ball.”

“What ball? Like a soccer ball? Ooh, is there going to be a game nearby? I hope it’s football; a lot more muscle involved. Maybe I can swing by and give the guys a few pointers.” He flexed. “Hoo, hah! These muscles aren’t just from scrubbin’ floors, y’know.”

“No! You—you haven’t heard?”

“Heard what? Come on, spit it out, man!”

Carl glanced around and stared down at his fingers as if they’d willingly swallow him whole. He knew he couldn’t go back now—not after tempting Johnny with this newfound information.

“The prince from the Eastern Kingdom is on his way—here, to the Western Kingdom. It’s been all over the news. He’s having his party on a huge boat and everything!”

It made sense that he didn’t know about it, then. Pops didn’t let him sit around watching TV. Still, although he didn’t care about fancy princes and their fancy boats, there was something more to it by the way that Carl was squirming.

“And? That it?”

“Well…he’s coming for a reason. According to the man himself, he’s trying to, uh.” Here, Carl’s face took on a red hue, one that confused the hell out of Johnny until he finally got the nerve to finish and say: “The party’s because he’s coming to ‘wed’ someone.”

“Wed, like, marry? And that was on the news?” Johnny crossed his arms. “I’ve never heard of this prince guy. Is that the kinda guy chicks dig, nowadays?”

“You’ve never—” Carl’s voice rose before he stopped himself, lowering it even further. “You’ve never heard of him? How could you not know about Prince Jack?! Even I know about him, and I only recently learned we were going to get to go the event!”

“What?”

Carl’s eyes widened in abject horror and he slapped his hands over his mouth, shaking his head. Johnny kept probing him, trying to get more information, but Carl was tight-lipped, offering Johnny nothing but excuses.

Johnny didn’t really need any more information anyway. It was obvious now that he was paying attention that something was going on. There were people coming in and out of the house, and Carl and Suzy were nowhere to be found. Probably getting ready for the ball while trying to keep Johnny in the dark. It wasn’t until he heard some old lady whisper about it being tonight that he realized how screwed he was.

Tonight? Why hadn’t Pops told him?!

“Pops!”

Johnny entered the living room upstairs, in search of the man in question. He found him in his study, glasses perched on his nose and staring at some document or another.

“Pops! You gotta let me come to that ball.”

Pops looked thunderstruck by his request, then thunderous. “Who told you about that?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Johnny waved his hand. “Point is, I wanna be there. Think of all the sweet babes that’ll attend. Blondes, brunettes, redheads; every color in the box! You’ve got to let me go!”

Pops set his glasses down in front of him. “No. And I thought I sent you to your room, Johnny, which is where you should be. Now.”

“But—but Pops—”

“I said no, Johnny. You’re not going to the ball because you’re going to stay here. Somebody needs to keep this house in shape, and you’re hardly the type to try and marry a prince. Got it?”

Johnny resisted the urge to flush. His clothes were all either hand-me-downs or patched together; the fanciest thing he owned was a suit that his mother had bought him when he was young, and there’s no way that’d fit him now.

“But—” Johnny tried, hoping to get through to him.

“No buts,” Pops declared. “The kitchen is particularly dirty after feeding this family, so I expect it to be clean by the time we get back.”

There was nothing that Johnny could say to change his mind, so he left the room, anger and disappointment bubbling inside him. He never lashed out at Pops, much as he wanted to, and now was no exception.

Fuming and stuck inside his own head, Johnny threw himself onto his bed, burying his face into his pillow for a good wallowing session. It was weathered and nearly flat after losing most of the feathers, but it was one of the few things he owned that was his.

Sighing, Johnny turned his head towards the window. Night was quickly approaching, and from his vantage point Johnny could see the cars lining up outside, presumably to take Pops, Carl, and Suzy to that fancy schmancy ball.

Suzy can’t even get married, he thought morosely. Probably wants the stupid prince to adopt her.

He sighed, turning over onto his back so he wouldn’t have to see the activity happening outside.

Why did Pops have to be so cruel? Why couldn’t he let Johnny do something for himself, just for once?

“I hate it here,” he grumbled, laying his hands over his toned stomach. He flexed his sweet abs in hopes it would cheer himself up, but to no avail. “I want to go to that stupid ball, just to show Pops that I can.”

Not that it would ever happen. Not a million years.

Johnny closed his eyes, then breathed in, and out. He willed away the depression that was settling over him like a thick coat, threatening him with tears gathering at the back of his eyelids. He blinked furiously; it wouldn’t do for a strong man like himself to cry over something like this.

A light flashed in front of his eyelids, and Johnny’s eyes snapped open. Then he sat up and rubbed at his eyes, because something was seriously wrong with him if he was starting to hallucinate for no reason.  

There was a woman in his room. Johnny blinked dumbly, mouth falling open.

Not a young, sexy woman, but the kind of woman he expected to see on an ad about being a housewife. She was dressed in pink pants, a turquoise top, and a purple cardigan. Her hair was vibrant white, wrapped underneath a bright red head scarf. She was also wearing bright green sunglasses.

“Oh, Johnny, you poor dear. Looks like I arrived right on time.”

“Wha—” Johnny jumped to his feet, fingers reaching aimlessly over his sheets for something he could use to defend himself against the mysterious woman. “W-who are you?! He asked, grabbing his lamp and holding it in front of him.  “How did you get in my room? Please, take anything but my hair!”

“Don’t be silly, Johnny.” She was floating above the ground all throughout his outburst, teeny wings fluttering on her back, and after Johnny calmed she landed primly on her feet, hands on her hip. “I’m not here to steal from you; I’m here to help you!”

“Help me?” Johnny parroted dumbly.

“Yes! My name is Bunny, and I’m your fairy godmother, Johnny. I’ve been watching you for a long, long time.”

Something in her voice went soft at that, and Johnny was suddenly reminded of his mother, voice as soft and warm as morning sunlight.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth, fairy mama?”

“I can show you, dear.” She winked, fluttering a few inches above the ground. A wand appeared in her left hand and she waved it around, a sparkling trail of glittering light left in its wake.

“What are you doin’?” Johnny asked, curiosity outweighing his trepidation. “If you’ve been watching me for so long, where have you been?”

There was a bitter note to his voice; he couldn’t help it. Having been resigned to doing to the dirty work without any kind of reward—aside from working his hot bod—it would make sense that the woman meant to look over him would, y’know, pop in from time to time.

“I couldn’t just visit whenever I wanted,” Bunny explained sadly. “I would have loved to, but there are certain…rules. Anyway,” she waved her wand, brushing the matter aside, “I want to help you now. I hear there’s a ball going on.”

“Yeah,” Johnny mumbled, thoughts taking a darker turn.

“Would you like to go?” There was something about the way she said that that Johnny didn’t quite understand.

He sighed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, sure! I figured out it’s supposed to run for three days, but Pops won’t let me go even once! I told ‘im it would just be for a little while, but he kept saying no. And now I’ll never get to go meet the babe of my dreams.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Bunny said, her mouth stretching into a smug smile. “I’m not just your fairy godmother, Johnny. I’m a magical fairy godmother.”

“What, like, hocus pocus mumbo jumbo?”

“How about I just show you, dear?” She smiled, waved her wand, and pointed it at Johnny. The clothes on his skin began to vibrate, and then before his very eyes, the pieces came apart at the seams, swirling around him and reforming into…a suit.

A very nice suit.

A quick feel indicated that it was some kind fancy material that felt like silk on Johnny’s body; even better, it fit in all the right places! There was none of the usual tightness across his back and shoulders like the rest of his shirts, and the pants hugged his legs nicely without appearing too tight. The suit was colored in a rich shade of cream, adorned by glimmering gemstones along the lapel and a beautiful flower over his left breast. And his shoes he only noticed because he could almost see his reflection in them, and what a sight it was.

“Damn, mama fairy, you know how to dress a man up!”

“Language, Johnny,” she admonished. Then she smiled, fingering the length of her wand excitedly. “How do you like it? I went with a sweet cream to match your wonderful personality.” She smiled. “Although those glasses could use some tweaking.”

“Wait!” he said, holding out his hand. “These are my favorite. Don’t touch ‘em. Please,” he added after a beat.

“Fine, fine, if you’re certain.” She waved her wand at the top of his head. “This, however, will have to go.”

“What?!” He touched his hair, which was changing under his fingertips. “No! Not my beautiful hair!”

“Oh relax, dear. If we don’t change your looks, you’ll be recognized,” Bunny said. “I’ve only changed it a little. Here.”

She pulled a mirror out of thin air and shoved it in front of Johnny, who inspected his reflection with great hesitation.

He looked…okay.

His beautiful coif, his fantastic pompadour had been sized down considerably. The hair was shinier, slicked back further than Johnny would have done it. He couldn’t say he was totally sold on the sudden change, but he didn’t look bad. Not at all.

“Boy, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he murmured at himself. “I’d like to take you on a date.”

“You’ll have plenty of time after the party,” Bunny said. “I’ve even got you a ride.”

“A ride? But Pops’ drivers are with him.”

She led Johnny to the window, and with a flick of her wrist she transformed Johnny’s old rickety childhood bicycle into a sleek motorcycle.

His jaw dropped. “That’s for me?!”

“Of course, dear.” She smiled cheekily. “I wouldn’t do this for just anyone, you know.”  

“Aw, thank you fairy mama! This is amazing!”

He didn’t know the first thing about riding a motorcycle, but he couldn’t wait to try it out. He’d always wanted one of those. This was like a dream come true, and kept getting better and better.

“There’s one more thing, honey,” Bunny said quietly, drawing his attention back to her. Johnny blinked at her sudden somber attitude.

“Shoulda known there’d be a catch. What is it?”

She walked over to him and gripped him by his shoulders, forcing him to meet her eyes. Probably. It was hard to tell when they were both wearing sunglasses.

“The gifts I’ve given you are free of charge, but you must return by midnight,” she cautioned. “That is when the magic wears off. If you don’t, you’ll revert to your old self, bike and all.”

“Why midnight?” he asked. What a weird condition.

“Because…” she paused, then shrugged. “Because, dear, magic only lasts so long, you know! Now remember: midnight, every night. You can return each night after dark, but don’t get caught or the magic will wear off.”

Johnny nodded in understanding, even if he didn’t really get whatever policies made it so magic couldn’t last longer than a few hours.

“Got it.” Mostly. He was starting to sweat under his suit.

Was this really happening? Was he going to wake up in a few hours and realize this was all just a dream?

If so, he planned to enjoy it; get his money’s worth.

“So, uh, what’s next?” he asked.

“You go to the ball!” She shooed him with her hands, waving him towards the door. “Oh, and have fun, dear.” Then she winked at him—at least he thought so—and disappeared in a burst of sparkling light.

“That lady is weird,” Johnny mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. Nevertheless, he wasn’t one to turn down a gift-horse in the mouth.

He made his way downstairs, keeping an eye out for Suzy or Carl, and when he was certain the coast was clear, he darted outside and made a mad dash for the motorcycle.

The motorcycle outside gave him pause. He stood behind it, hands at his sides, palms gathering sweat. He wasn’t sure this was such a good idea anymore; after all, how was he going to ride such a majestic beast?

But it was either get on, or stay there all night, and Johnny wasn’t about to waste his freedom being afraid. He hopped onto the bike, and once he settled in the seat, it came to life, jerking up under him like it was alive.

“What the—” Johnny had a moment to grip the handles before it took off, sailing down the road at a speed that couldn’t have been safe.

The bike weaved through the traffic, slowing down only to stop at the few lights on the way there. Johnny had no idea how to get to the docks, or even what they looked like, but when lines of cars started to thicken and he saw people milling about the streets in crowds, he figure’d he’d come to the right place.

And boy, if it hadn’t been obvious that this was going to be a fancy event, the ship itself would have been a dead giveaway. It was absolutely massive, stretching hundreds of feet above Johnny’s head. Even from the distance of a few thousand feet he could see the embellishments glittering on the side of the boat. Gold figures glowed at the front end of the ship, accompanied by red and yellow lanterns strewn across the deck.

As Johnny drew closer, he noticed that most of the guests—the ones that were taking it on foot to avoid the heavy traffic—were headed for some line further up the warf. The bike slowed, then stopped, and Johnny hopped off, making his way to the entrance of the ship.

It became obvious that something was amiss when the person holding what looked like a guests list glanced at him and asked, “name?”

“Uh.” Johnny could feel himself started to sweat again. “Johnny. Johnny Bravo. Funny story about that. You see—” Just then, he felt something in the air shift, and before his eyes the piece of paper in the woman’s hand changed.

She paused, apparently ignorant to Johnny’s shock. “Right this way, Mr. Bravo. Please, enjoy yourself.”

And just like that, he was inside.

Johnny could hardly contain his awe. The ceilings were decorated with gleaming lights that matched the eastern décor gracefully while appealing to western sensibilities.

“Fancy,” Johnny breathed, moving in towards what he assumed was the ballroom. It was packed with people; most were milling by the buffet outside the ballroom, waiting for the guest of honor, while others meandered around the ship, staring at its splendor with wide eyes.

Johnny felt supremely out of his element.

“Where is this prince guy, anyway?” he mumbled, shuffling towards the heaping table of food. “Ooh, what’s this?”

The food was a well-timed and convenient distraction from the tight feeling in his chest. He liked to think of himself as a Casanova, but the few chicks he’d managed to flirt with were the ones Pops hired to help him around the manor. Here, however, there were hot chicks and dudes all over the place. He was a confident guy, but this was on an entirely new level.

He saw his chance when a beautiful woman with curly red hair came up beside him, reaching out to take from the same plate he was.

“Oh, excuse me,” she said coolly, not bothering to look at him.

“Do you believe in heaven?” he asked, jumping on the chance to woo her before she got her food and walked away. “Because I think I just met an angel.”

“Right.” Shooting him a look of pure disdain, she inched away from him until she could escape. Johnny watched her go, his smile quickly forming into a frown.

“What’s it take to get a date around here?” he joked, earning the looks of a few fellow patrons. They moved subtly away from him, and Johnny escaped, his cheeks burning.

This wasn’t anything like home. The usual disdain that people offered him shouldn’t have bothered him, but for some inexplicable reason, it did. He moved away from the buffet and went out towards one of the side decks on the ship overlooking the ocean. It was less crowded and offered Johnny some well-needed breathing room.

Sure is hot in there, he thought, tugging on his collar. He faced away from the balcony, staring at the inside of the ship as he backed up to it slowly.

It would have helped if he noticed the man standing in his way, staring out at the ocean. Johnny in all his ignorance barreled straight into him, nearly knocking them both over. It was the stranger’s quick reflexes that saved him from the fall; Johnny, however, wasn’t so lucky.

“Ow!” Johnny yelped, struggling to brace his hands on the deck. It wasn’t like the inside, which was polished and slick with lacquer. The wood here was a little splintered from water damage and the thick nails holding the boards together dug into his palm.

“Hey, man, I’m really sorry about that.” He looked up. In the dim lightning, it was difficult to make out any features, but the stranger was clearly male. “Shoulda been watching where I was going. Didn’t think I’d be this clumsy tonight.”

“It is quite all right,” said the stranger, sounding like he meant it. His voice was calm, like the sounds of Johnny’s mother’s radio filtering quietly into his room at night. When he leaned down to help Johnny up, he revealed a smooth and friendly face. His hair was wrapped in a ponytail and his wore some kind of fancy robe that Johnny didn’t recognize.

And he was hot. Really hot. Johnny swallowed.

“Are you all right?” the stranger asked, and by the sound of it he’d said that more than once. Johnny shook his head minutely, focusing in on the present.

“I’m fine. You okay? I bumped into you pretty hard.”

The stranger smiled and shook his head, helping Johnny to his feet.

“I am fine. I also should have known I would not be alone for long,” he said seriously. “It is quite dark out here.”

“You’re kidding me,” Johnny agreed, rubbing the back of his neck. The man was still holding onto his hand; his was warm and calloused, but his seemed more purposeful, less like Johnny’s work callouses. “I, uh, haha. Um.”

In the face of a handsome stranger, Johnny was suddenly tongue-tied, struggling to find words. The man cocked his head in an endearing manner, sliding his free palm over Johnny’s knuckles.

“Are you certain you are all right?” he pressed.

“Yep!” Johnny let out a strained laugh. “Just peachy. You’re not the first dude I’ve run into before. This place is big. A little too big, if you ask me. Easy to get lost in.”

This seemed to calm the stranger. He nodded, backing away from Johnny and there was a pause where neither of them spoke; then the stranger lifted his head.

“I understand that line of thinking. This place is…magnificent, but a little overwhelming.”

“You’re telling me,” Johnny agreed. “Some party back there. Feels like a pack of wolves waiting to eat this prince guy.”

The stranger’s eyes widened, and he said nothing for a moment.

“Yes, I suppose so,” he said at length. “It seems like a great deal of trouble to go to for one person.”

“I guess,” Johnny started slowly, “But it must feel nice to have a party thrown for you.”

“Public relations are an important stepping stone,” the man said, his voice hard and flat. At Johnny’s stare, he closed his eyes. “I apologize. You must excuse my mood. The night has been…exhausting, and it has only begun.”

“Right.” Johnny scratched the back of his neck, glancing out at the ocean. “I’ve never been to a place like this. Almost feels like we’re under a different sky.” He chuckled awkwardly, turning his face up towards the moon. Although the lights of the ship were bright, he could still make out the stars. “Stars are still the same.”

“Are you an astronomer?” the man asked, sounding curious. Johnny had to laugh at the notion.

“Nope. Don’t know nothin’ about stars. Sometimes I make up my own constellations.”

“Oh? And what are those?” the man didn’t sound judgmental, only vaguely curious. Johnny didn’t know if he was being made fun of, but it was exhilarating to have a conversation with another person that wasn’t part of his family or someone else he’d been badly flirting with trying to beat him a new one.

“There’s a bunny rabbit,” Johnny pointed out, directing his attention to a cluster of stars above their heads. “Can only see the ears from here…but those are pretty bright. And next to it there’s a hair brush! My favorite.”

“Your favorite is a hairbrush?” Now he definitely sounded amused. Johnny kept his eyes on the stars, trying to reign in the flush on his cheeks.

“Hey, my hair’s important to me,” he said. “It’s the one thing I have that’s my own.”

“It’s very…slick,” the stranger said, choosing not to comment on his earlier words. “You westerners have very fascinating styles of hair and clothing. I would love to know more, in time.”

“It’s a big country,” Johnny said. A faraway part of him wondered what it would have been like, had his mother survived and he got out of that house. “I barely know it myself. I—”

Stopping himself just in time, Johnny had to bite his lip to keep from speaking. This was a fancy event where fancy people gathered to woo some prince from a far-away land; he couldn’t very well reveal his own state of being without looking like a fool.

“You what?” the man asked, his voice low and soft. Johnny felt a little like melting.

“I, um, I’m actually… really hungry! For—” He glanced behind them. “Fries. Eastern style fries?”

He didn’t intend for it to come out like a question, but the man nodded, drawing even closer.

“I can have some prepared for you, Mr…” he paused, as if waiting for Johnny to reveal his name.

“Oh, the name’s, Johnny. You—you don’t have to do that.” He waved his hand. “There’s plenty of other grub to go around, and more than enough of me to take it.”

He flexed to prove his point, and the most miraculous thing happened: instead of scoffing at his behavior, the man laughed, his voice ringing sweetly in the quiet air.

“Very well, Johnny. I—“ The prince stopped, as if remembering something. “Oh, how rude of me. I have yet to introduce myself. My name is Jack.” The name somehow rung a bell inside Johnny’s head, but he couldn’t figure out why. “Would you—”

Just then, a voice erupted from the doorway. A woman in a kimono came rushing in, and as soon as she saw Jack, and began to tug insistently at his arm.

“Jack!” she screeched. “What are you doing?! We’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

“Ah, Ashi.” Jack smiled innocently, but the woman—Ashi—was undeterred, and yanked him towards the doorway. She glanced at Johnny as she left, narrowing his eyes at him.

“You will have to excuse me,” Jack said to Johnny, serene despite the vigorous pulling of his companion.

“Yeah. See ya.” Johnny watched him go, his heart sinking low in his chest. He waited a while longer, but without Jack there to keep him company, the air felt strangely cold.

Guess I’d better head back, he thought, steeling himself for the oppressive warmth of the ship’s ballroom.  

The party was in full swing when he returned. It had been going strong already, but with the prince’s appearance drawing near, the people that were occupying the room had tripled. Johnny inched along the edge of the wall, looking for somewhere to start having a good time. He’d come all this way, and he wasn’t about to waste an opportunity for some flirting, or his name wasn’t Johnny Bravo!

He was in the middle of approaching a woman with striking hair at the center of the ballroom when suddenly, everything went quiet.

Then, there was a collective gasp. Heads turned. Johnny wasn’t sure where he was supposed to be looking.

A man holding a scroll walked in the center of the large stairway leading to the upper floors of the ship and coughed, delicately. Then, he unraveled the scroll and began speaking.

“May we present to you, Prince Jack of the Eastern Kingdom!”

The man’s lips kept moving, but it was impossible to hear him around the roaring of applause from the boisterous Western Kingdom crowd, clapping as the prince began to descend the stairs. He smiled a full, practiced smile at the crowd below, but there was a hint of unease that Johnny couldn’t help but notice. Jack descending with a grace that was unfitting the uncomfortable expression on his face, and when he came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, it suddenly hit Johnny what it all meant.

Jack is the prince?! Dumbfounded, Johnny’s did a double take, just to make sure he wasn’t mistaken. Whoa mama, I met the prince and I didn’t even know it!

It was a travesty, one that made Johnny want to curl into a ball. He’d made a fool of himself in front of the prince charming.

Speaking of, Jack was glancing around the room, looking completely lost, as if he didn’t even know where to start. Probably didn’t, the way that the crowd was gathered, staring at him in equal wonder, amazement, and with no small amount of lust.

It wasn’t until he looked at something in Johnny’s direction that his eyes widened, and his expression calmed. Then he started walking.

Johnny glanced behind him to see what had caught the prince’s attention, but was surprised to find the sea of people starting to move away behind him, parting like water. When Johnny turned back around, Jack was still staring, a look of pure determination on his face. When he was a few steps away from Johnny, he held out his hand.

“Would you care to dance?”

Noise erupted around them; furious whispers, some curious, most angry. Johnny stared, unable to comprehend what was being asked of him.

“You’re asking me?” he asked, just to be sure he wasn’t imagining things.

Jack nodded, expression wavering. “Is that a no?”

Something about his voice—unsure and uncertain—spurred Johnny into action. He was taking Jack’s hand before his brain had caught up with him, and then the music, which had been playing in the background for some time, swelled to a crescendo.

As Jack led him towards the center of the dance floor, the crowd of people began to pair off around them, whispering quieting now. Jack cupped Johnny’s hand in his own and wrapped an arm around his waist, leading him into a complicated, foreign style of dance. Johnny, still trying to figure out what the hell had just happened, tried not to step on Jack’s toes, but he needn’t have worried; Jack was a leading him through the dance like a pro, swinging him around in circles, around other couples, his eyes never leaving Johnny’s face.

“Why me?” Johnny blurted, his mouth suddenly dry. “I’m handsome, I got that, but there are plenty of chicks around here aching for a chance to get with you.”

“I wanted to,” Jack said simply, making Johnny’s heart stop beating for a moment. “You seem like a simple man--so different from the complex individuals that I always seem to surround myself with. After our chat, I found myself wanting to learn more about you.”

Jack made simple sound like a good thing, and Johnny sure wasn’t about to protest the way that it made warmth bloom hot in his chest. Jack could think anything he wanted about him. 

He lead him through another complicated move, his hand on Johnny’s waist like a brand, hot and unerring. For once in his life Johnny was having trouble speaking; his mouth felt like it was filled with cotton, and his palms were sweating more than usual.

“I, uh, haha.” He swallowed, meeting Jack’s eyes. “There’s not a whole lot to know about me. I mean, I’m pretty handsome, but other than that—”

“You are,” Jack agreed immediately. Johnny’s mouth felt like sand now. He found himself smiling, and ducked his head.

“You’re pretty good lookin’ yourself,” Johnny said.

Dreamy was a better word for it; Johnny had never felt so attracted to a man before. His heart was all aflutter every time their eyes met.

“Oh, thank you.” Jack seemed pleased by his compliment. Abashed, his cheeks grew flushed and his eyes darted quickly to his left.

“Tell me about you,” Johnny interjected. “What’s it like, being a prince? Must be nice.”

“It is,” Jack admitted, sounding like the words were ripped out of his throat. “On occasion it can be…troublesome. But I do not want to talk about that now.”

His following smile glowed. Johnny nodded, at a loss for words, and there was no more speaking after that. Johnny allowed Jack to lead him around the ballroom, dancing and spinning around couples. It was the most fun that Johnny had had all night, and he was loathe for it to end. But before Johnny knew it, the dance was over, and Jack’s hand slid from his waist, falling to his side.

“Thanks for the dance,” Johnny said lamely. He glanced down at his still-sweaty palm. “Sorry about—ah, um—”

“It is no trouble. You were a wonderful partner.” Jack smiled, lips quirking into a shy smile. Johnny nodded silently, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You, too—”

“Excuse me, Jack.” A woman to their right approached the pair. She was a bombshell: slender, with long, black hair and ruby red lips. Any other day Johnny would have been all over her, but as he watched Jack turn to face her, he felt a sudden hot surge of jealously rise inside him.

“Another dance is starting,” she continued. “Would you care to take me around for a spin?”

“Of course.” There was an edge to Jack’s smile now, but Johnny was staring too hard at their clasped hands to notice. When they took off, Johnny stepped off the dance floor, suddenly too exhausted to look for another partner.

He made his way into the other room where there was food and drink. There were a few guests, but most had moved into the ballroom, trying to catch the prince’s eye. Johnny couldn’t bring himself to go back in there just yet.

He hardly knew what was wrong with him. Hell, Jack wasn’t the first handsome guy he’d met before. Jack wasn’t even the most handsome, but although everything about him was careful and precise, there was an edge—one that Johnny couldn’t see, but he desperately wanted to.

Once the music quieted, Johnny returned to the ballroom, trying to play it cool while his eyes searched for any sight of Jack. He was at the front of the room again, surrounded by men and women on all sides trying to catch his attention. Johnny was just going to quietly leave them be when Jack caught his eye, his smile lighting up like the sun.

He pushed past his entourage and made his way towards Johnny at the same time that the clock struck twelve, echoing throughout the ballroom.

Panic washed over him.

“Oh crap, midnight? Fairy mama said the magic would wear off. I gotta—I gotta go!”

The look on his face must have alerted Jack that something was wrong, because he started moving faster, but Johnny was way ahead of him. He sprinted back the way he’d come pushing past people to get to the entrance hall. Jack was calling his name behind him and Johnny lamented the fact that he couldn’t even say goodbye; he could feel the hair on his head tingling, like they were ready to revert to their previous form. His suit was starting to sparkle, shimmers of magic that were holding the threads together now unraveling.

It wasn’t until he was on his motorcycle, driving on the sidewalk to escape traffic that the magic finally left him. First it was his suit, which returned to his threadbare clothing. Then, it was his hair, falling over his eyes without product holding it up. The bike held out for another minute or so—perhaps running on pure willpower, but it too returned to its old form, and Johnny was left biking back home the old fashioned way.

He was in bed by the time his step-siblings and father came home, his mind still reeling from what had happened—what he’d gone through. Johnny—Johnnella, as his siblings referred to him—had gone to a ball, the ball and danced with a prince. It was a complete turnaround, nothing like what he’d set out to do hours ago in this very room.

And there were two more days to go. Two more, glorious days where he could…

Johnny frowned at his pillow. Suddenly flirting with hordes of women wasn’t so much appealing to him as was the thought of seeing Jack again, or dancing with Jack again. He wrapped his arms around his pillow and buried his face in the fluff.

The ball’s splendor had not detracted over the course of the previous night; if anything, it had become grander. The ship was visible from miles away, and even more people had shown up to see the prince and try for his hand.

Armed in his fairy-provided dresswear, Johnny slipped past the crowds and walked to the balcony where he had met Jack the night before, but he was nowhere to be found. It seemed that in escaping he’d made his people���servants?—more alert and the prince was nowhere to be seen, much to Johnny’s disappointment. He wandered the parts of the ship that were open to the public, trying to search without seeming like it.

It was when he was passing by a stairwell leading to the cellar—blocked off for employees only—that he heard someone call his name.

“Johnny, what a…surprise to see you here.”

A sound escaped his throat that sounded suspiciously like a scream. Johnny whipped around to face Jack, his heart hammering.

“Prince Jack! Man, you—“ he let out a nervous laugh, “—you scared the bejesus outta me. What are you doing here?”

“This is my ship,” he said, with no small amount of humor. “I had wondered the same of you. This is far from the ballroom. One might think you were in search of something. And please, call me Jack.”

“Me? Hah. I was just, uh,” he glanced around, “looking for some… fries?” God, what was he doing? “I love eastern food but what I wouldn’t give for some fries. They’re my favorite.”

Jack cocked his head. “You mentioned these last night. What are ‘fries’?”

“Potatoes. See, I was lookin’ for some to make them myself, but I think you’re all out.”

“This is not our kitchen,” Jack pointed out. He smiled somewhat cheekily, clearly onto Johnny’s shenanigans. “But I suppose it would be rude if I did not…bring you there. Would you like me to show you?”

Johnny hadn’t expected to get this far, to be honest. Being acknowledged by Jack was one thing, but to be taken around this castle of a ship was another entirely. He felt oddly bashful as Jack motioned for him to follow.

“You really don’t have to,” Johnny said, staying a step or two behind him. “You’re probably a busy guy.”

“My,” he paused, as if searching for the right word, “employees have been hassling me nonstop. I would not mind taking a break.”

The ‘with you’, went unsaid, but Johnny wasn’t sure if he was just imagining its presence. He stared down at his feet, sweat building at the back of his neck.

Why did he turn into such a schoolgirl around Jack? His confidence seemed to evaporate, leaving behind a more vulnerable version of himself.

The kitchen was bustling with activity on their arrival. The work did not stop for Jack, but Johnny did garner a few curious stares, some more suspicious than others. Jack lead him to an area on the left where mounds of produce were being cut and placed in various cooking pots.

“Excuse me,” Jack started, gathering the cooks’ attention. “Are any of you familiar with Western foods?”

“I am,” spoke up a rather young looking woman. She wiped sweat off her brow, motioning to the mound of produce. “Whadya want, prince Jack?”

“I was hoping you could make a plate of fries.” He paused at her stare. “For my guest.”

“Your guest.” She glanced at Johnny. “‘Course. Gimme a sec, your highness.”

She immediately went to work, expertly juggling her current load while starting to peel and chop up potatoes.

Jack turned to Johnny, offering him a brilliant smile.

“That was easier than I expected.”

“That’s a lot of food,” Johnny pointed out.

“We have a lot of guests.”

There was a beat of silence, and then Johnny started snickering, inexplicably, followed soon by Jack’s quiet chuckles.

“Thank you for accompanying me,” said Jack, a smile on his lips. “I am afraid I am not used to hosting so many people. Did I mention that this is overwhelming?”

“You might’ve.” Johnny shrugged. “You’re doin’ as good a job as I would. I don’t think I’ve ever seen this many people in one place before. Why’d you throw a marrying party, anyway?”

“To help rid the world of evil by bridging the gap between our kingdoms,” Jack said, sounding as though he were reciting lines. “I am surprised you know so little.”

“I, uh, don’t get out much?” It sounded weak even to his own ears, and Jack looked like he didn’t believe it. “Aw shucks, there’s—there’s not much to it, really. I just wanted to come here to see everything. I thought I might flirt around a little and flex here and there.” He demonstrated to get his point across. “Didn’t think I’d actually meet the prince himself.”

“You are perhaps the only one,” Jack said. He looked like he wanted to say more, but they were interrupted when the woman from the other night came walking into the room, her hands on her hips.

“Jack! Stop disappearing. The first dance is about to start—”

Then she noticed Johnny, and her words came to an abrupt stop.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Uh.” Pretty lady that could probably kill me. Abort, abort.

“My dance partner,” Jack interjected smoothly. “He expressed that he was hungry and I thought it only fair that I find him food to his liking.”

“Your dance partner,” she repeated, her voice curiously flat. “Well, if that’s your choice, but we don’t have time to wait. The guests are getting antsy. The dance floor is waiting, your highness.”

There was nothing for it. Johnny didn’t have his heart set on the fries, so when Jack apologized on their way to the ballroom, he brushed it off.

Jack danced with him for far longer than he had the previous night, making a point to take him around the room at least three times before switching to other partners. It was clear to the guests that he was favoring Johnny, but Johnny himself was having a hard time coming to terms with it.

Jack’s a prince, he thought, watching him twirl around with some other dude. I’m nobody. If he finds out about fairy mama’s magic…

If he found out about the magic, he would no doubt want to find a partner that was more suited to his tastes; one with power and money. Speaking of—he hadn’t seen much of Pops or his siblings, as he’d been stanchly avoiding them. He looked around now, and spotted a red tuft of hair at the opposite end of the wall he was leaning against. He quickly looked away, fingering his sunglasses. He never took them off, but was it too obvious? Had they already noticed him?

“Johnny.”

A voice off to his side startled him, but it was just Jack, tugging on his arm insistently.

“Come with me,” he continued, pulling him towards a corridor away from the rest of the party. Johnny didn’t protest, allowing himself to be dragged along up two flights of stairs and across a hallway before Jack slowed, apparently deciding that he had come to the right place.

“Where are we?” Johnny asked just as Jack pushed the doors open, revealing the upper decks in full glory. The lanterns, which were made to be somewhat dim, appeared to glow above them. There were so many that Johnny was blinking as he tried to look up at the dark sky above.

Jack cleared his throat, drawing Johnny’s attention. He looked concerned—no, nervous. Johnny hadn’t the faintest idea why until Jack took his hands and started pulling him towards the center of the deck.

“This was supposed to be saved until the last night of the ball, but I—I was watching you and I suddenly could not help myself.”

His touch was gentle and light. Johnny didn’t know where he was supposed to be looking, so he stared down at their hands, a rising flush on his cheeks.

“I know that we have only just met, and I hardly know anything about you, but I—”

The rest of his words were lost as the clock struck twelve, and it felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over Johnny’s head.

Jack stopped, his brows furrowing.

“Are you okay?” he asked, only to have Johnny pull away, looking around fervently. “Johnny?”

“I gotta—I gotta go! I’m sorry, Jack. Really.” He was surprised to find how much he meant it. Jack was practically a stranger to him, but there was an element of electricity between them; a spark. Johnny felt bereft as he pulled away, and guilt ate at his chest when Jack’s expression morphed into regret.

“I was moving too fast,” Jack said, keeping up with him as he ran down the stairs. The clock was still ringing, more joining its raucous cause. Johnny could feel his skin tingling already. He probably had about half a minute left.

“Johnny!” Jack shouted after him. “Please, allow me to explain myself!”

Johnny couldn’t acknowledge him, couldn’t speak past the pounding of his heart. All he could think about was getting out of there, away from Jack, before he noticed the transformation and realized he wasn’t who Jack thought he was.

His chance presented itself when a waitress with a tray of food came out of the doorway, rows upon rows of delicately stacked pastries lining the platter. With a pang of regret Johnny made himself ‘accidentally’ slip into her, knocking the both of them down. Jack was immediately upon them, and Johnny shooed his hands away towards the woman, giving him the opportunity to get up and bolt for the door.

It wasn’t until Johnny was rolling his bike down the hill to his home that he felt the weight of the night come crashing down on him. He closed his eyes and took a moment to breathe, the memory of Jack’s heavy gaze, eyes like melting chocolate under the lantern lights flashing behind his eyelids.

“I’m so screwed,” he muttered, running his fingers through his hair. It would be sensible to take the last night off, give himself some time to rest, but he knew without a doubt he would return and somehow make his way to Jack.

His words, which had been soft-spoken and with the slightest tremor, kept repeating themselves inside Johnny’s head, tempting him with what he might have said had they not been interrupted.

When he got home, the light reflecting outside his father’s study was on. It took Johnny a few seconds to realize that he was awake, and in fact, in a whole lot of trouble, because Johnny’s light was on, which meant that he’d been in Johnny’s room and had found him missing.

Swallowing a growing sense of dread, Johnny made his way to his room where Pops was waiting for him, his arms crossed in a way that spelled trouble.

“Ah, Pops, what’s up?” he asked innocently. “Back so soon? How was the party?”

“Oh, fine. I just watched a very familiar man dance with the prince two nights in a row. At first I wasn’t sure who he was, but then I noticed something. Those glasses really are one of a kind, aren’t they, my boy?”

“Ah…ha, that’s a funny story Pops. Real funny.” Johnny inched his way towards his bed, trying not to sweat under Pops’ gaze. “Y’know I’m actually real tired—”

“I know, Johnny,” he deadpanned. Johnny froze. “I know that my step-son has been fraternizing with the prince, when he damn well knew he wasn’t supposed to leave the house. What do you think you’re doing?”

“I…” Johnny swallowed. He didn’t have an answer; not one that would satisfy Pops. He couldn’t very well say he was interested in marrying the prince, but by the look on Pops’ face, he didn’t have to.

“You two looked pretty chummy up there, but I saw how you’d been dolled up. Does he know the truth?”

The question was posed almost innocently, as if it hadn’t been enough to freeze Johnny’s heart solid.

“You’re nobody, son. The prince is looking for a lifelong partner to help ‘bridge the gap’; not a kid like you.”

Johnny couldn’t speak. He clenched his fists and shook his head minutely.

“He—”

“He’ll reject you,” Pops continued, trying for a gentler tone. “You know I’m only trying to protect you, don’t you, Johnny? You need to give it up. The prince—Jack—deserves someone who can help him. Can you really do that for him?”

Johnny’s mouth open and closed soundlessly. His grip tightened, fingernails digging deep divots into his hand.

Maybe Pops is right, he thought miserably. You’ve run away at midnight every time; who’s to say that you won’t do the same tomorrow. And after that…

Sitting down on his bed, Johnny buried his face in his hands, scrubbing away at the sorrow building behind his eyelids.

“That’s a good boy,” said Pops, patting the top of his head. “You stay here, nice and safe. I’ll take care of everything, just like I always do. Goodnight, Johnny. Sweet dreams.”

Johnny said nothing in response, staring at the place that his step-father had vacated. The sickly sweet note in his voice seemed to ring throughout the room long after he was gone, until it was all Johnny could do to try and sleep. He lay there fretfully, only drifting off when the lights from the distant party that Johnny had left finally started to dim.

The next morning he woke up exhausted, dreading starting on a new day. He still felt fragile from all that had occurred, all that had been said to him from Jack and from Pops, but couldn’t stay in bed any longer unless he wanted to drive himself crazy going over the events of the night before.

He stretched, changed his clothing, and headed for the door, only to find it locked.

“That’s funny. It doesn’t lock from the outside.”

After a few tries, he started knocking.

“Pops. Hey, Pops! Suzy? Carl? Anyone wanna help a fella out?”

No answer. Johnny bit his lip, working the handle harder now, panic starting to filter in.

“Somebody! Anybody! I need to start on my hair and skin routine!”

After a few more seconds of silence, he heard footsteps.

“Ah, you’re awake. Good morning, Johnny.”

“Pops! Thank god. Let me outta here.”

“I can’t do that Johnny.”

Something in him went cold at his words. “Wh-what d’you mean you can’t?”

“I said I was trying to protect you. I don’t trust that you won’t go back to the party tonight, so I ensured it. I’m sorry Johnny, but this is for your own good.”

“You can’t keep me locked up in here!” he shouted, pounding on the door. “That ain’t cool, man. I promise I won’t go anywhere!”

“Have a good day, Johnny.”

“—Wait!” he called, still slamming his fist into the wooden door. After a few minutes the bruised skin started to burn, so he pulled his hand away and did the only thing he could think of: pacing. He paced the length of his room, trying to think of a way to get him out of there that didn’t involve jumping out a window.

“Wait! I know. Mama fairy will save me.” He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Hey, mama fairy!”

Again, his pleas garnered no response. Agitation wormed its way into Johnny’s head and he started pacing faster.

Why does it matter? a faraway part of him wondered. I’m not even gonna get to see him again.

Johnny looked out the window, spotting the top sails of Jack’s boat, even from this distance. He sighed, unable to turn away from the scene.

I just want—

He let his eyes fall shut, heart stuttering.

I want Jack.

No matter how much he denied it, he couldn’t lie to himself and pretend like he didn’t have feelings for the guy.

Johnny placed his hands against the windowsill, leaning forward in hopes he’d get a better look at the ship. Embarrassingly, a small part of him even hoped that he’d see Jack standing atop one of the sails, looking out just like Johnny was now.

“What a load of bologna,” he muttered, moving to turn away when something strange caught his eye. Below his window there was a procession of people; a very strange group that consisted of soldiers—or what looked like soldiers—marching down the road beside a few elegantly eastern-style cars.

They stopped in front of Johnny’s house, inexplicably, and disappeared out of view. Johnny obviously couldn’t see what happened after that, but his curiosity mounted and he was tempted to climb out the window and risk it.

He tested the door again, faint hope evaporating as it stayed shut.

“Damn it Pops.” He darted to the window again, pressing his cheek against the cool glass. Another few agonizing minutes passed and then the men and women started to filter back onto the street and one of the car doors opened, revealing the person currently haunting Johnny’s dreams—

“Jack,” he breathed. His fist met the glass. “Jack! Jack, I’m up here!”

It was useless, so high up. Jack was steadfastly staring ahead of him, his eyes straining in the sudden light. He looked exhausted, with dark bags hanging under his eyes.

“What the hell is goin’ on?” Johnny wondered, ramming his fist into the glass again. “Damnit, Jack, look up!”

Johnny was forced to sit and watch as Jack walked toward, and then eventually away from his home, looking more tired than a handsome prince had any right to be. Cursing up a storm, Johnny tried the door for the umpteenth time, yanking on the doorknob like it was personally responsible for everything that was happening.

But he could do nothing. Nothing but wait and hope that he could escape this room and—

And what?

His own thoughts gave him pause, and he knew, deep down, that there was nothing he could do. He was trapped here, unable to see Jack ever again—not before he left for the Eastern Kingdom.

The hours passed, and Johnny anger was depleted, replaced by boredom and an acute solitude that he had never known before. There’d always been days where he stayed in his room, but never like this, never without his consent. It was a new low for his step-father.

Finally, as night fell, Johnny resigned himself to staring at the glowing ship in the distance, lights twinkling ever brighter than the previous nights. Johnny’s outfit had changed as night had fallen, but he hardly noticed—or cared. What was the point, when he couldn’t even leave this place?

Just as he was lamenting the loss of a perfect night with the perfect guy, the weirdest thing started happening. The ship, with all its lights and golden glory, started to darken. No, scratch that; there was something crawling onto the ship itself. A big, black, winding thing that held no shape or form until it rose up from the deep, revealing a flaming face and rows of sharp teeth.

“Holy—” Johnny was speechless, watching as it wrapped its tentacles around the ship and started to laugh, plunging them into the wood with ease.

Hell, glad I’m not in there now—

Before he could finish the thought, something occurred to Johnny that stole his breath away.

Jack is in there.

“Jack’s in there. Crap, crap!” He scrambled for the window, pushing against it with all his might. “No, no, no, let me out you stupid house!”

As if hearing his call, the window that had been bearing his weight that entire time began to shudder. Then it cracked, and like magic, exploded, leaving Johnny falling forward with nothing to hang onto.

He screeched, closing his eyes, but when he landed on something that was, while not soft, relatively safe, he snapped his eyes open.

Bushes. The bushes his step-father tended to so dearly had saved his life.

“Hoo-ha!” he cheered, striking a pose. “Nothing can take down Johnny. Now I just gotta get to Jack.”

Thankfully, his magical bike was already waiting for him, revving its engine as he drew close. He wasted no time in hopping on and making for Jack’s boat like his life depended on it.

When he arrived, it was like the scene out of a nightmare. People were screaming, running in all directions that lead away from the boat. Above it, rising higher than Johnny could crane his neck was some sort of serpent, black as night, with flames erupted out of its face. As he approached, it became clear that he’d gotten there just in time.

His heart stopped when he saw that Jack was suspended above the ship, struggling in the thing’s grip.

“Come now samurai,” it spoke, voice slow and gentle, like it was coddling a naughty child. “You did not seriously think you could escape me, now did you?”

Johnny couldn’t hear Jack’s response. He pushed past the screaming hordes and into the ship, sprinting for the access to the top deck that Jack had shown him the other night. That time felt like it had happened years ago, not just within the span of 24 hours.

As he maneuvered around undulating tentacles and stepped past broken furniture, it occurred to Johnny that this was probably the stupidest thing he’d ever done. There was no way that he could feasibly win.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t gonna try.

“I’m coming for ya, Jack!” he called in futile, walking up to the nearest tendril. It was thicker than the biggest trees that Johnny had ever seen, and has risen even taller. He considered his options and decided that climbing it was his best bet—if he could even grab onto it.

There was only one way to find out. He grabbed fistfuls of the stuff and pulled himself up. It was like silk, only sort of intangible, wisps of the stuff flying away like smoke. He dug the balls of his feet and surged upward, slowly but surely making his way to Jack.

“Now you face my—hmm?” the creature stilled, eyes narrowing. “I think there’s a bug on me. Excuse me, Jack.” He bent his head down to peer at Johnny, who hastily scrambled to the other side of his body.

“Johnny!” Jack cried, lurching forward helplessly. He looked like a mess. His hair had fallen out of its ponytail, wisps of hair clinging to his cheeks, and his clothes were ripped—probably from fighting this thing. “What are you doing here? Leave now before Aku takes you as well!”

“Is this a friend of yours?” Aku asked gleefully. Jack dug his nails into his finger, trying in vain to break free. “Lucky me! It is like hitting two birds with one stone.”

His hand came around to grab at Johnny, but he was getting the hang of climbing, and thanks to his massive biceps he was a strong and nimble guy. He evaded Aku’s grip, reaching ever higher while Jack screamed at him to leave.

“I’m here to save you!” he yelled, because clearly Jack wasn’t getting it. “Don’t worry, I’ll be there soon!”

“Johnny, wait!” Jack struggled, managing to wrench an arm free. He pounded his fist furiously against Aku’s thumb. “You cannot defeat Aku. Leave, before it’s too late.”

Johnny might have listened, had he just started his journey, but he’d reached the high point on Aku’s back and figured it was too late to jump down now, what with his fear of heights and all.

Jack opened his mouth, sucking in a sharp breath—perhaps to plead with Aku—but before he could say a word, Aku started trembling. A sound not unlike laughter came out of his mouth, shocking them both.

“Heheh.” He covered his mouth with one hand, lips struggling to contain a smile. “St-stop that!”

Before long, he was in the throes of laughter, his entire body trembling with the strength of his mirth. Johnny wasn’t really sure what had triggered it; all he was doing was climbing on his back—

“Stop! I’m ticklish!” Aku said erupting into laughter once again. Jack was struck dumb, his handsome mouth hanging open, revealing a row of white teeth that Johnny wouldn’t mind giving a try tangling with.

Focus, Johnny! You can admire each other’s beauty later. Maybe I’ll even give him a few pointers. Johnny smirked at the thought, strengthening his efforts, running his fingertips over the flesh until it was all he could do to hold on.

Meanwhile, Aku’s grip around Jack had loosened considerably. Both of his arms were free and he was in the process of wriggling out of his palm when a sound from below caught his attention.

“Jack!” It was the girl from before—Aishi or something—with a sword in her hand. She tossed it with all her might and sent it sailing in Jack’s direction. Like that was gonna help any.

Jack seemed to think otherwise, catching it with great enthusiasm.

“Yes! Thank you, Ashi!” Then he turned to Aku, bringing the sword straight down onto his wrist, slicing through it like butter.

Aku roared, rearing back, and Johnny figured that was his cue to get down.

“Damn you, samurai!” Aku hissed, cradling his injured hand. “Perhaps now is not the time to attempt your defeat. But I will defeat you!”

“Evil with never triumph good!” Jack cried, lunging forward. Johnny was still trying to find a way down, but as Aku reared back and turned into mist, his fingers slipped and he started falling.

“Ahh! Help! I’m too beautiful to die!”

Johnny squeezed his eyes shut, not daring to look. The next few moments were heart-attack inducing, and he would deny the girlish screech that came out of his mouth until the day he died.

Then, miraculously, he was being lifted into the air before falling much more gently to the ship’s deck. Johnny opened his eyes to find Jack staring at him with a wide smile.

“Oh, you, uh, you saved me, huh.” He swallowed, thinking of a way to play it cool while he was being carried in another man’s arms. “I was totally gonna land on my feet, but thanks for the help.”

“Johnny!” Jack’s smile was brilliant as he released Johnny. He immediately brought him into a hug, squeezing hard. At the same time the midnight bell started to ring and Johnny tried to wrench himself free, but Jack wasn’t having it; he held on even tighter.

“I am amazed. You did it! Even I could not have predicted that Aku would be ticklish.” He stepped back, eyes widening as he took in Johnny’s appearance.

“Jack—” Johnny swallowed, trying to come up with an explanation. “I couldn’t just leave you there. He was gonna hurt you. And I can explain why I look like this.”

Jack’s fingers cradled his cheek, an unnamed emotion filling his eyes. He lifted Johnny’s chin.

“Johnny, You were in far greater danger than I,” Jack said, arm encircling his waist. He was warm. “Explanations can wait. I am grateful for your aid, but you  should not have put yourself in danger like that.” 

“You’re not a normal prince, are you?” Johnny asked before he could help it. “Who was that guy?”

Jack closed his eyes, frowning deeply. “That was Aku. He is an evil spirit residing in my kingdom, hell bent on ruling our world. I did not lie when I came here, but I did not tell the whole truth.”

Jack looked very reluctant as he explained his true intentions for the trip, but his gaze never wavered. He kept staring at Johnny, urging ever closer the more than they spoke.

“So by bridge the gap you mean—”

Jack nodded. “I hoped it would unite our people. Your leaders are aware of the situation already, but I did not want to reveal the situation to anyone and risk scaring them away. In truth, I was against this. My father was the one who insisted upon it.”

The fingers were back, toying with a lock of Johnny’s hair. He was self conscious now that it had fallen flat without any magic holding it together.

“Jack, I’m—I’m not the guy you think I am.” He looked down at their hands, wishing it could be any other way. “You’re gonna want someone to help you influence people. Get them on your side. I’m nobody important; that’s why I look like this. A fairy helped me out so I could come here. I needed magic just to look like I fit in in this place.”

“It is not about power,” Jack said, ignoring his words. “It is about love. I promised myself that I would not marry someone that I did not care about in the least.” 

He hesitated, then, still holding Johnny close. Then he continued: “And I care about you, Johnny. The person you are, not the person you should be.”

Now Johnny was speechless, struggling to contain the resulting blush brought on by Jack’s speech. He opened his mouth to speak, but quickly found that his lips had been covered by a warm pair apart from his own. A hand slipped behind his head, fingers curling into his hair. Johnny’s eyes fluttered shut.

“Will you marry me?” Jack asked, once they were apart.

“Holy moly,” Johnny replied, thunderstruck. “You bet I will!”

And they lived happily ever after…

“And they got married, and had tons of babies—”

“Uh, little girl, in case you haven’t noticed, we’re both dudes,” Johnny pointed out.

“—through adoption,” Suzy insisted, continuing as if he hadn’t spoken. Jack was smiling, much to Johnny’s irritation.

“Like that would ever happen. And anyway, why’s he gotta be the prince? I’m totally princely. Look at this!” He flexed, swapping between positions that showed off his assets best.

“Duh, that’s because he really is a prince, unlike you.”

“Right, and my name’s actually Johnnella.” Johnny rolled his eyes. “Try again, little girl.”

“I’m serious!” She looked at Jack for confirmation. “Right, Jack?”

Jack for his part looked guilty before nodded hesitantly. “I am afraid that she is right.”

“What!?” Johnny’s jaw nearly touched the ground. “You are? When, who—why didn’t you tell me?”

“I did not think it mattered,” Jack said, reaching for Johnny’s hand. “As Jack told Johnnella—”

Johnny groaned at the name. “Not you too!”

“—it is about love.”

That made Johnny go silent, a flush working its way up his neck. Jack smiled, pulling him closer. Suzy squealed in delight when they kissed.

Maybe the happily ever after wasn’t so far-fetched after all.

[lamptracker]

FIC: Sod off, Valentine’s Day (Tom Holland/Reader)

So. I’m sick and on my period (together, yay) so I threw this together.

FIC: Sod off, Valentine’s Day

Pairing: Tom Holland/Reader

Summary: You have a cold. And your period. On Valentine’s Day. 

You groan as you stumble into the kitchen, searching the cabinet frantically for the DayQuil. You’d finally caught the cold that everyone was passing around at work, mere days after bragging about how you’d managed to avoid it. That’s what you get, you know…

On top of being sick, you started your period yesterday. So you had the fever, body aches, headache and cough from the cold combined with the bleeding and the cramps.

How could this possibly get any better?!

Oh, right. Tom is out of town.

And the real kicker? It’s Valentine’s Day.

So you’re on the couch, cup of tea in hand, watching The Price is Right (it’s a sick-day staple, you had to) and feeling sorry for yourself when suddenly the door opens.

“Oh, you’re home!” Tom exclaims; he’s carrying his suitcase in one hand and a beautiful bouquet of flowers in the other.

“Oh, you’re home,” you croak out in response.

“I decided to fly home a couple days early and surprise - whoa. You sound positively awful.”

You snort. “Thanks a lot, babe.” But his earlier statement is punctuated by a long coughing fit.

“Oh, darling. Are you sick?”

You nod pitifully. “And I started my period too.”

Tom sighs. “I have to make a quick phone call. I made us reservations at that new Italian place, and-”

“Oh, man! The one that’s always booked that I’ve been dying to try?!”

“Yep. That one. But no worries, we can go when you’re feeling better. You need your rest.”

You groan and kind of slump to one side. “Oh, fine.”

Tom goes into the linen closet and pulls out a vase and a heating pad. He plugs in the heating pad and hands it to you. “Here you go, love. Have you had any medicine yet?”

“Just took some DayQuil.” You turn the heating pad onto the highest setting and rest it over your stomach. The heat gets to work right away, relaxing your cramps.

“Okay. I see you have some tea. Do you need another blanket?”

You shake your head. “I need you to hold me,” you whine pathetically. “Please? But if you don’t want to, it’s okay, you’ll get sick too and-”

“Nonsense.” Tom sprawls out onto the couch and gathers you into his arms. “You’re not feeling well, so your wish is my command.”

“Really? Then I wish that this cold were gone and I weren’t on my period and we could go to that Italian place and eat some chicken parmesan.”

Tom chuckles softly. “Well, your reasonable wish is my command.”

“Hmph.” You plop your head onto his shoulder as he tightens his grip on you; he kisses your forehead.

“You have a bit of a fever,” he remarks.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” you mumble grumpily into his armpit.

Tom laughs. “Well… uh… I was going to propose at dinner tonight.”

You sit up slightly in surprise, your jaw dropping.

“...darling?” he asks.

“That is something I didn’t know,” you manage. “Are you serious right now?”

“Completely. I had this whole speech planned about how much I love you, and how beautiful you are and all that other cliche proposal garbage, y’know? But I’m just going to do it right now, and I’m going to wing it.” He clears his throat. “I hate that you’re feeling poorly. I don’t know anything about periods, except you gripe about having them every month. But I can’t imagine how terrible it is to have that and a cold at the same time. You’re fevery and coughing and sneezing and you are still the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. I’m not sure how you’re managing it, honestly. And I realized that yes, I fell in love with you at your best. But I still love you when you’re at your worst. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So, will you marry me?”

Tears spring to your eyes as you start to sniffle (although, honestly, you aren’t sure if that’s the speech or the post-nasal drip). Finally, you manage: “Proposing on Valentine’s Day? Such a cliche. But,” the tears start to roll down your cheeks, “yes.”

Tom reaches into his pocket for the ring, slides it onto your finger, and turns your head so you’re facing him. “I love you, darling,” he says as he presses a gentle kiss to your lips.

“I love you, Tom,” you reply as he wraps his arms around you again. With a smile on your face, you fall asleep in the arms of the love of your life.

Maybe, just this once, you don’t mind being sick.

[glopratchet]

egg-drop

It's as if something else is going on here Haygurt looks at Arely expectantly, as if a good father, Then you remember that sometimes people do silly things for love And in this one-horse town, you wonder what kind of trouble our two lovebirds have gotten themselves into The hollow thuds of hooves wake you from your daze You turn to automatically begin riding after the hero, and find only a lone straggler in your path Slow night?" The man is disheveled and on edge Although he's tall his eyes shine with a scared intelligence, glancing from you to the crowd behind, while his knuckles are skin and bloodied from recent fighting \ A Horse-Lord's Lament \ Chapter I: Forsaken Without introduction, the horseman begins to beg He sounds pathetic, but quite familiar For reasons you cannot fathom, you feel a kinship over this dreary microphone and decide to listen in on his sob story Perhaps he's a \ spokesmodel \ for Z database, and this is simply product testing? No? Well then, what other possibilities could there be? \ (way side notes, "surely successful missions to mar"?) " I don't normally do this," the horseman breaks in, "but under the circumstances I feel that it my moral responsibility to try Are you familiar with Nuro? An interesting city despite its depri depri-bare condition Now as I was saying, we began another surely successful mission to Mars which wa-" "Has NASA officially abandoned the Goal of landing on Mars?" You interrupt once again c-21d will it return back to Johnathan? I did it the first time with a noogie actually that's a little lie It wasnapost the first time I actually fingered Allison Steiner after yesterday's track meet in sophomore year, in the bathroom We scandalously kissed! holding hands was a huge step for us Then,, we made plans to be together "All my life" and Get married Looks like little Allie found a new prince charming I entered the void a blinding white abyss taken by complete surprise an extreme departure from the blackness of before I swirled my finger in a circle captivating hypnotizing alluring just like the Allie of old Each of my senses captured her primal svelteness, free of any bound where her lush smooth flesh lay exposed "This isnapost a deadly wound" my skin is lougher she says as it gleaming with sweat from running multiple marathons Back to back since she heard of Micky's hospitalization when he was shot after playin a game of pool against They found him near death on the floor surrounded by blood "Get up ya bum! Youz ainapost gonna die here!" scattered across a black sky Each of her visions focused on the longbow in his hands which was smeared with blood, and the bandage at the crook of his arm leaking red The lemon scent was stinging her nose giving her an instant headache - at last! hypnotized by her youthful vocal chords the personification of an ancient evil This is what she thought as she Deciphered all these strange events She would soon start tot he carpeted floor beside a corpse, as if laying in a trance The shadow on the crawl space wall, was twisiting and turning while the rope swayed back forth almost all everyone went home and Finally! before entering I can hear and even sometimes feel the "Glow" of the green inhabitits that scuam around and pounc on everything, As you wish on a falling star That voice was entracing while inside louisiana She's probably in shock jealous that she could never b as small as an atom even after drinking the elixir of life from her man-aliens lover from the unvierse equidistant to her left (your right), galactic center Key-G, time starts now! As each lightspeed tube captain and as a law enforcement officer found her guilty for this unexpected romance with a rapsodo's rocker Sbove the law and an angel who was capable of flying the galaxy her entire life This moment is really happening because everything she imagined was real somewhere even if it wasnapost feel like it at the time It almost seemed like something was controling her every movement, sense and thought; Being able to morph into anything she wanted to remain on the ground, Een though niether lawnd or Eastwood's weapons raised as ze comissoned her Hell no her job was to contain the suspicious conflict begun by the accidental splattering of blood in his veins all over his grand piano The voices eager to play their roles as paparazzi screamin out the countdown until they grow irritated with your slowness and kill you both for eternity just as hell would if given half a chance Her feet usually hurt from heaven to planet Auro as she witnessed the entire night sky poke-poking playfully at our tiny blue planem in their galactic glee to watch the solar system dance of papyrus with his beloved long-legged, pregnant and rather large woman? She was a good natured person unless you push her too far They only stopped when they saw the looming wolrd that they once callled "The Iron Mask" approaching in front of them by then Then Billy the baby inside will become her eternal reminder of their strange flight into romance, they will sit and watch the magical time-space characteristics of our atmosphere together without speaking just listening to the gentle silence of wonder The omnipotent hand is beaing directed by me could crush all reality with ease yet they haven't once I think in all my gliding along singing to myself O wait they just blinked, an assassination attempt? with somewhat strangely painted forests, burning buildings, and blushing sunsets After releasing yourself from the restrictive hammock you manage to glide into our small group of runaway artists become refugees somehow amazingly surviving the dreadful king's judgement after which a majority of our countrty went under martial law You remember bright blue uniformed bodies crawling out of their burned out tanks too, thinking your playful head games like "I see what you mean [Angler Brod] about this painting" ENTERING: THE EMPTINESS PERIOD OF YOUR MENTAL EMPTINESS PERIOD Soon as you started make endless wallets you got bored of it and decided to find your place in the winding caves of The Dwarves After spending a few months on nothing but chewing some ambrosia leaves and travelling aimlessly through steamy tunnels you discovery something fascinating--a painting, like one made by a talented human artist But there were no humans in these woods from where you sat in quiet awe It was patchworked together assembled, contrary to it's ragged and worn appearance, from material much too delicate and lustrous to have withstood the forces of nature for even a little while A rainbow arrayed itself over glittering waters, topped by a clear deep blue sky unspotted by clouds anywhere within the visible horizon bloating like aaddictive balloon--it twists through space before settling down, as low-gravity satellites in the surrounding higher orbit station record it all These were a few ideas you implemented into The Dwarves' hammocks, both sick and normal, of which your was thee central unit in the entire militia campsite You pass the time lucidly staring at the beautiful painting, waiting until it finds you again why? Because your stories are all true protection while you nab everyone against their will on day 4 now that the king has ended martial law The artist is most likely dead by now, but no matter you think to yourself as you bend over to suck the contents of your dummy wallet left behind inside a copy machine The boxes are just out of reach and begging to be opened, and they made quite the [[choices]]; no going back , now invisibly trapped in a cell of pony pushpins But a trap is a trapm, right? Now they're paranoid as they pick up more and more humans left among the ever-expanding campsite, most of which makes a run for it instead, members from other guilds Only you seem intent on your games rather than eats or perhaps stand back and watches as you do your thing, which consists only of self-amusement for now [[bounced off walls of paintings]] How long had it been since she looked in a mirror? Never in awhile at least, it was rather foggy Whether because of her son, the ambiguous face nor the meek colors jumped any alarms, but a weight seemed lifted from her shoulders and a wide smile beamed on he face while her body felt three times lighter than before them Whatever faults there might have been Then she gently nuzzled into her children's side and playfully ran her fingers through your hair as she looks at you with soft warmth Such trust could never be violated now that it was well-beyond others Remembering her days in The Court, in the noble class and somehow at this very spot it was focused through a circular hole just a few feet across onto a given place on the ground of this star-patterned temple room You gazed into your own image reflected upon the floor and remembered the days of sitting against silk cushions and golden trimmed blankets, feasting with others just like you, listening to street entertainers or musicians play for the royal quality Every sense drenched to ecstasy in everything but this one thing--spirituality To superhuman types it had stored quite a lot, but to you it felt like a gaping whole which you fell through endlessly With a chill running down your spine you grabbed as much as you can and decided that you must find it somewhere in yourself to still be impressed by this acts of Creation As far as you well knew, at this time their gods had never been seen and there was no one like your Christ to comfort them about the passage from death into life that feeds into the bloodstream using math that she wished she remembered better It takes everything just to stay awake, and those were scare today Maybe that was normal for heavy labor? With all that had happened she had nearly completely forgotten about that instruction, but soon her muscles relaxed as it worked out the cramps and lifted slightly giving off some small plumes of steam You could barely make out the terrain below and those cute houses with pointy roofs Warm glowing light poured out of yellow windows making the fluffy mass appear white at the edges except for that one is obscured by a giant metal machine floating up and down with propellers on top You stare at the text of a report about a possible scandal inside the H Q Mercenaries within your own government helped the military seize power over the people without warning and for a time nobody could stop them At first you couldn't comprehend this so you carefully re-read it in confusion Without wasting any more time, you called one of your trustworthy advisors to get more information out of him on this impending issue "I don't know Being able to completely relax without a care in the world was a blessing like none other It appears that your repelling armor is completely intact, but the same can't be said about you Dehydration, improper breathing, and lack of nutrition has undoubtedly been taking its toll on your well being for quite some time now but as with all things in life, you have grown accustomed to it , but you could hear her typing on a keyboard from under the blankets, no doubt in deep discussion with someone else It'd be mentally difficult work and she expressed excitement about it in the past…But then so did you at one time Are you sure? While re-establishing contact with an old flame will probably score some points, that massage chair she got you for your birthday will probably go to waste without someone to operate it and a nice cup of watered down coffee somehow found its way into your hand You gulped it down in desperation as the sun had already started to peak out from the horizon and you needed all the endurance you could get to make it through another day It's only a matter of time until those svelk start pillaging more cities with immunity to conventional weapons Each city they take means abondoning another defenseless population to that lot with a stopwatch by the higher-ups because no sooner had you started to look for 'General' Nylund's contact than you were being called by someone wanting to verify that it was indeed you It was almost too easy In fact, as you soon found out that is why it was so easy The reason simply being that she wanted to track your whereabouts immediately after finding out what city you were in and his name is alakazam He seems to have regained his heavy brovado accent among other things which is typical of most fae living on brovar Powerful beings such as him seem to instantly regain aspects of their former selves upon stepping foot on the soil That or maybe alakazam just wanted to visit home again so he could get drunk and be angry all the time ┏──┳─────────────────────────────┓ │ │ │ │ You straighten the air intake to indicate a forceful draft directly at his face Heavy machinery was moving fast behind him as he struggles to hammer in a two-penny nail but manages to block the air flow just long enough to ruin any chance of you holding your breath any longer You are forced to inhale what would become your last breath while you still couldn't figure out what the hell Fel was trying to pull off with such a half-assed plan The boys who used to give you wedgies ended up in charge of giving thrust to an entire planet with just cardboard and sticky notes? Hell if he would have bothered to do his homework, he'd find that the other side is just flat earth and open ocean A deep and unstoppable need growled within as the oversized compositecarbon raingear rose to meet your chin and I hope managed to protect your identity just long enough for whatever was inside that big silver suit to pull off this death pact idents continued to flash upon your eye screen wallpaper as you cleared the register snooze Others use those repetitive loops of mem which have been burned into their mind's eye as screensavers but that is just plain lazy!!! Do not be like theOTHERs Watch our prototypeidents andrealive what itmeans to trulylive Soft smallwawses squezzed between scramjets hurrying overhead as your foot peeled off the curb as he hobbles his snail pace along cracked crosswalks for another block could you wait? The question burned within as you questioned his motivation for inviting you on this so-called bonding experience At first was just sheer nervousness or some eccentric act of midlife crisis but now that you've been through events which the old fool planned you could swear he was testing your patience at all, it's a good thing their generation has learned patience or whatever they would have destroyed their planet forever You step into the crosswalk against big red DON'T WALK letters and leap over a speeding taxi Cross at regular intervals and don'tgamble with your life for the sake of old men who think they know your motivations all too well A live dragon has nothing on such short tempers burning through even quicker life spans but you hold on to guarantee : EST TARD 44 MINUTES AT INTERSECTION 1701: THIS IS YOUR FINAL NOTE Full screen on an old stock picture of some awful carpeted office you begin typing out the words which have been set before Ral isn't even sure if he's alive himself lately but the harbingers made his plans very easy until this stoopid punk went and flew his vehicle into the wall : supposed to spread cheer and joy throughout the regin but no, this one had to end up as an anchor round Ral's neck A fix is in order obviously and he'll just use a couple of his teenage interns to make sure it spreads online as fast as possible Within 48 minutes the full rotten blackness of your thot would spread through tethersingles like a west nigger communities camped outside Walmarts on Black Friday gets a big fat red paint whoppin and so do all his employees Nice business you had there, shoulda thought to ask permission for ripping off a dead man's amusement huh before you on command from your chip and you select fillet steak at 6 dollars a pop The cottony tender whiteness slips down with a side order of organic veggies You help the banquet along with red wine and desert consists of key lime pie TING reply: Hey jared, I've sent a tape over to that polebox of yours how do you even watch it? the PS Publishing presentation of Tomas from the story "Don't Lick The Shell" included in Flame Locked? Do you wish to contact someone from your past? Do you wish to lock in the time coordinates of your next meal? Maybe write a poem for a loved one and have it eternally printed in their hearts? Wash down pain pills with an archived soupcon of any French director's cut Brand Channel Chefs compete to see who can tweet their fans first ber: How is your day going fellas? Fineday: You know how it goes, sew a button on a jacket and suddenly you're the tailor to the King Tommy or Moira: Can you reach me that jug of creamed corn in the cupboard? Hugging the wall you stay put thanks to an inconvenient arrangement of furniture and the ugly paintings that adorn it ber: Elder Chong got promoted to King because he said something the tape liked Truly a mystery is it not? hbarber: The ever vigilant sous chef may get the broth just right today The Regime is now: 14 hours 40 minutes 34 seconds With the helm control gone you can't help but imagine a highly intelligent 4D hamster riding the gears, maliciously bending them into bizarre angles that lead into a mindbending warp of inconceivable chaos human so 14pts ant 2dogs 1bee stings orphan slave to leathery tan creepers The dog doesn't think when it charges the ant, just instinct There's a snarling beast of sharp teeth and a shredding claws and then there's an enemy, much like yourself but under completely different guidance Not categorising either as good nor evil you walk patiently yet briskly through the wasteland The hunter's lazy wand'ring pace You're not attached to anything material and though lately a bit of extra protective gear on your next walkabout wouldn't go unappreciated a moth eaten tarp and a moldy cave aren't permanent residence whether you like it or not if you remain here Sooner or later that burned out datacore is going to be targetted by drones or troops and you'd best be long gone when they arrive So Much fury in those magnificent eyes, A flurry of fangs and a flash of claws You've got more close shaves than a bisexual hair salon but your head is still attached and the dogs are having just as many problems with the ant's exoskeleton as the ant has with their teeth Did You Evah! Where there was mud there is now dust and rock and where there was lush underbrush there is none now Someday I'll go, way down uncle vernon's way Time to continue your journey, you never did find that energy node solman spoke of and the dogs won't stop howling unless you move at least a mile or two away until such a time as they can accurately home in on the location again Muskrat pa and pop ik off to sleep nobody will The constant howling of the hounds is eventually drowned out by the crunching of gravel beneath your feet The sky overhead is a deep shade of purple and much as you'd like to know if this is natural or yet another bizarre effect of the overload, it doesn't do to dwell on such things I don't do aet well but nature, vegetable and mineral After a period of searching you find the hose which leads into the ground just as solman described when you were at his fortress This must be the spout he mentioned, leading straight from the Cornucium supply under his fortress to this intake somewhere out here in the vast wasteland outside the city A secret back door shipment of food right under everyone's noses Your earpiece suddenly cracksle to life with chatter I'm saving this regulation pour, it's the only logical move to tell you butterflies dear friend Uh oh The game is afoot Over five nearly six of his race are now forcibly dismounted You rush away from the hose and search for a suitable place to skulk until the the inevitable victors pass on by War is coming to Dr Gorriax land of fun and wonderment Surely he went this way sure as I'm aproducing like a badly written rent-a-plot movie! You find yourself wishing you still had the dogs, especially since it sounds like the Carbine EKKs all carry is inferior to yours In fact now that you listen closely their speech patterns are eerily similar to mandalorians in Star wars, nearly devoid of personality and understandable only with difficulty Thankfully they're also marginally less competent Water water clearly his favorite color A few minutes after you duck out of sight a squad of EKKs from an exploration wing come tromping past the tow of them have all spotted you but dismiss you as unimportant since you'r not tooled up like their fellows just passed The empera He's after the empera, that foul rat dares not challenge me to single combat! Squaaaaad! Six o'clock! The EKK behind you just noticed your rifle propped against a rock and hails his fellows about it, the other two have just spotted you Pwnd! He's an interloper send to de-limb us by the gruz! long live the new age! The One Minute Of Silence Before The Storm You try to at least communicate with them but there's not much conversating going on as laseral fire is exchanged Sure you've got tricky moves up your sleeve but 3 to 1 odds are tough no matter how you spin it Even the hounds have laid down and died from exhaustion overriding their instincts at the sudden noise attack YOU like to chat with your prey before you strike gap? Your mind fills with the voice of the maddened animal stating facts about its selective breeding Gabba gabba good job The dancing flower people have been replaced by the silly antics of glorified green space monkeys floating about in a cartoon cloud and gibbering nonsensically not to mention ridiculously Imperials gapyear verse Fated foes Beasts who breathe flame once roared here Kept food Race to the stars The blasted monkey dance in your mind has been joined by a jolly little song and a rhythmic clicking of some kind Clicks that become louder, more frequent and faster Amusing verm person not of the empire! Vworp Vworp Vworp ! section nine! Brimstone and an acrid smell begins clawing at your stomach and lungs, you can just make out a faint wispy smoke filling the crevice before you Don't these guy ever give up!?

[braindamageforbeginners]

Week 1, Day 1, Treatment 1

I’m back home, after a day at the hospital. If things continue at the current rate, well, I’ll probably be dead in the near-future (median life-expectancy of GBM patients is 14 months), but at least I’ll make a dent in the reading list.

I began my day with a potentially dangerous, experimental drug. I’m going to focus on the positive and think that this is a step closer to being Hunter S. Thompson, and try to forget the fact that the nurse had to put on protective laboratory gear before handling something that she then injected into my veins. Also, because I’d been warned about keeping super-hydrated throughout this process (and because I have hard-to-find veins), I’d been chugging Gatorade since I rolled out of bed, so hooking me up to an IV  to hydrate me was just gilding the lily. Or over-filling the water balloon, to be more accurate. Anyway, apart from spending a disturbing amount of time, uh, let’s say, “discarding” all that excess fluid, there aren’t too many side-effects worth reporting (we’ll get to that shortly). Admittedly, spending about ten minutes peeing after 18 hours being pumped full of an unknown substance is disturbing, but if that’s the worst I suffer today, I’ll count it as a victory. However, the day is not over, and I have not taken my bed-time chemo drugs, and, as Herodotus wrote, “Judge no man fortunate until he is dead.”

However, as far as side-effects, I’m not too worried about vomiting any more. The nameless anti-nausea drug is amazingly effective; like, I could easily see myself becoming addicted to this stuff. Not because there’s any sort of fun, psychedelic effect, but because I hate puking, and this medication is so effective that I think I could wolf down a rotting raccoon carcass without any side effects (other than contracting rabies, I mean). Obviously, I’ll be putting that to the test over the coming weeks, but life would seem to have improved significantly in that regard (and, I’ve been told the chemo side-effects should be further lessened if I continue my extreme hydration-regimen).

I am, however, experiencing some side-effects; I feel bad, but not horrible. Specifically, my muscles feel sore and cramp-y, which, while unpleasant, isn’t the worst I was fearing. And, according my mad scientist oncologist (specifically, my Southern California Mad Scientist Oncologist), side-effects are indicative that the miracle drug is working well. And, based on how my muscles feel, it’s working. The major complaint, apart from lethargy, is, I shit you not, hallucinations. So, I plan to spend tomorrow lying on the couch, being tormented by my subconscious. This is different from normal because now there will be a visual component, and I’ll have a note from my doctor (also, I’ll eventually have to pry myself off the couch and get irradiated). Also, the worstest side-effects aren’t predicted to show up until week 2 or week 3; bad news is, they don’t think I’ll start recovering until week 10. Worse news - much, much worse news - is, after the six-ish weeks of radiation (for those of you keeping count, I have 30 radiation appointments, but since they don’t work on weekends, that works out to six weeks; and chemo every single day throughout), assuming that’s successful, I’ll get on a chemotherapy rotation, which means I’ll get three weeks off, and one week of chemo, for a whole year. FOR. ONE. WHOLE. YEAR. Which means, at my current life expectancy, I’ll be on some sort of unpleasant drugs for the rest of my life. Still, as I’m very aware, the phrase, “we’re extending treatment” is vastly preferable to the phrase, “we’re stopping treatment because it’s not working.” Also, if I do lose any hair, the clinicians think it’ll be in a very small, specific spot. Still, adding even another unpleasant side-effect seems excessively cruel.

And, I got some very reassuring signs today regarding my physicians. I never had any reason to doubt their competence, but, I have survived three tumors (so far) for fifteen years (the breakdown is; I got tumor #1 removed fifteen years ago, since then, I’ve had two more tumors), but it’s always good to have that confidence affirmed. Before I get there, a brief restatement to all future cancer patients (and humans in general); I’ve said it before, the crucial difference between a fatal disease and a dangerous disease is your medical team. Do not screw around with this, your life will depend upon it; do some research (Yelp does not count), and go straight to the best (the actual best, not the “Trump Steak” best). We now continue with the anecdote currently in progress.

During one of my many, many administrative/clerical intake interviews/vital signs monitoring sessions, an aide asked who my oncologists were, and I said, “Drs. X and Y,” and she, “Oh, they’re the best.” Now, it’s always possible - especially since we have a commander-in-chief who is hell-bent on destroying superlatives - that she was exaggerating, or just saying it because they bought her coffee or something, but, I know from fifteen years on the receiving end of modern medicine, that the nurses and administrative staff are usually where the buck stops, and they know a lot more than they let on, so their endorsements are usually reliable. Also, immediately prior to my serum injection, I was visited by Research Coordinator (and, to preserve everyone’s anonymity, I’m going to be extremely vague), who assured me that they only test drugs that are extremely promising. Which seemed like a regurgitation of Bioethics 101, until he also admitted that my oncology team will occasionally accept money to test drugs they know won’t work, then weasel out of that commitment through various medicolegal means and just keep the money. That might be some sort of standard, cancer research hack, but it’s still brilliant. And, even if they weren’t acting within the bounds of the law, there’s not a jury that would ever convict them.

As far as the radiation treatment, it went mostly-fine. To dwell on the negative (or to forewarn all future brain cancer patients), the weird plastic-mask thing is the most disturbingly claustrophobic thing I’ve ever encountered. I thought it was freaked out about it when they were fitting me for it, and it felt like some sort of weird fetish. Now, it feels like being smothered. The good news is, if you can resist the impulse to panic, and just remember to breathe, it’s not too bad after the initial shock (hopefully, that’s applicable to all my experiences over the next year). So, if you have claustrophobia or a fear of being smothered (a greater-than-average fear of being smothered, let us say), I’d definitely recommend asking about sedation beforehand. Hell, I’d ask about sedation the minute you get a cancer diagnosis, but especially look into it if you have claustrophobia and you’re getting radiation treatment and/or MRIs.

Anyway...

WEIGHT: about 210 lb (95-ish kilos). There were some fluctuations throughout the day (I got weighed several times throughout the day) between 209 lb to 217 lb, but that’s explained by both the incredible amount of fluids I’ve consumed throughout the day and whether I remembered to remove my shoes. CONCENTRATION: Pretty good; I made some decent headway in the Wodehouse novel I’m reading, even while being pumped full of saline and super-soldier serum (which is really saying something, because I really needed to use the restroom during that whole process). MEMORY: Not bad. I’m still missing or forgetting occasional stuff, which is a little upsetting, but I can still quote pertinent studies I read a few years ago. APPETITE: Decreased, but I’m still eating. I’ve also been drinking way too much water and/or Gatorade, and I started the day with a large, bacon-egg sandwich (heart disease be damned), and all that would chip away at the appetite even before factoring stress and experimental drugs in. ACTIVITY LEVEL: Normal. Normal-ish. I’m feeling sluggish now, at 9 pm, after a long day spent in waiting rooms, so it’s not like I turned down the opportunity to go jogging because I was feeling poorly (spoilers: I only ever run when being chased, or when I’m late for a plane). SLEEP QUALITY: Pretty good, for me. I got eight-ish hours of sleep last night, which is great for someone about to start cancer treatments, but I still have a big sleep debt. COORDINATION/DEXTERITY: Not bad, but I’m very slightly wobbly when finishing tasks/movements that require coordination. Starting them and the middle, I’m fine with, for some reason. PHYSICAL: Very much the same as yesterday, which is good. No new headaches or body-based symptoms, and the eternal suture-headache is quite tolerable. SIDE EFFECTS: The muscles in my upper body hurt. A lot. But it’s no worse than if I’d gone to the gym with someone named “Biff,” so I suppose I shouldn’t gripe too much, but it still hurts. And I can’t take aspirin, because I’m already at risk for bleeding thanks to the damned chemo drugs (I guess that’s my pain level - “Needs aspirin and will complain bitterly if deprived, but will survive without”). I’m peeing a lot - an awful lot - but I’m also keeping extremely hydrated, so I’m not sure that’s a side-effect. I feel oddly alert - like I’ve had half an espresso - but my body isn’t moving fast enough to keep up with my mind. It might seem excessively negative to keep track like this, but I actually intend to take careful notes in this area and send them all to my researchers at the end of all this.

[iamsoneurotic]

All Kinds of 3′s...

I’m not even providing a witty lead up. It’s happening again.

I mean at this point it’s already Facebook official, so the element of surprise is gone. Actually what would have been a great surprise would be to write an entire post and NOT say anything. Then like, on the baby’s third birthday be like “SURPRISE!”... I may still do that. Nobody reads this.

I wanted to work in something about 3 being a charm, but that kind of implies that you screwed up with the first two and THIS will be the child that saves your family from failure, but I’d like to think we’ve done pretty dang good with our first two kids. The mere fact that I was able to keep them alive (edit - not kill them, let’s be honest, mommy keeps them alive, daddy just tries not to drop them too much) proves that first and second times are a charm. I’m very charming.

We’re going to be finding out the gender next week and I don’t really want to emphasize what Rach is hoping for out of fear the child will read this someday and think it’s the equivalent of being a duplicate Happy Meal toy - but it’s pretty obvious what she wants considering we have 2 of one gender and none of the other… She wants a girl. There I said it.

Really, Rach, I still say if it’s a boy and you're disappointed by that, put it in a dress while I’m at work one day and don’t tell anybody. Get it out of your system. Problem solved.

… That part about not telling anybody is very important though. Please don’t tell me.

Anyway - 2018 was always going to be the year of Baby #3. Not that THIS particular instance was the plan, but it would have been right around now anyway. Rachael’s one demand about this post was that I not make any jokes about or references to the conception of the child. So I won’t reference the conception. Not even a little. Absolutely will not talk about how babies are made and how this pregnancy is no different from how most babies are created.

Look at me doing what I’m told like a good husband.

So we found out in June that we’re essentially not going to have our lives back until 2036. It was a weird couple of months because the prior month we had a pregnancy scare which turned out to be just a weird menstrual cycle from some hormone-related pills Rach was taking… I hate the word menstrual almost as much as the word cervix - oh dear lord I’ve used both terms in the same sentence, I’m going to throw up. Shouldn’t ‘lady’ terms be more feminine?? Why can’t they have nice terms for female-related items… Like Vas Deferens, that’s a male-related and highly inoffensive word to the ears. You know what, ladies? You can have that word. It’s not like anyone ever says it anyway. Name a non-med school conversation that you’ve ever had which included the word Vas Deferens. Seriously, we’re not using it, swap it with cervix and let’s move on from ever having to mentally scar our brains with that word ever again.

See, this is the part about pregnancies that I hate the most. It’s not the hormones, it’s not the bills, it’s not the fear of finances… It’s the freaking awful words you have to hear for 9 months straight. Everything is all about mucus and cervixes and uteruses and fetuses and cramping and contractions and I’m fully aware that I’m supposed to be using commas instead of “ands” but I have mom-brain by proxy so I don’t care. That’s the other thing - I’m getting pregnancy symptoms! I’ve heard that this is a real thing that can happen, and it’s finally happening after 3 of these pregnancies. I’m hormonal, on edge, tired, I get headaches, mom-brain, nausea… It’s freaking ridiculous. Don’t even get me going on my baby bump!

In all fairness, this has been a pretty rough pregnancy for Rach. Probably the worst first trimester ever. She’s been incredibly nauseous, cranky, tired… Basically the usual pregnancy symptoms, only cranked to 11. The poor girl is MISERABLE. I feel bad, but at the same time I don’t really like having to be in charge of watching the boys while she naps and recovers. Nobody feels a father’s pain and struggle.

Oh dear, I was talking about menstrual cycles (*shivers*) wasn’t I… I can’t keep a consistent thought to save my life. The point of that was, because we had a scare the month before which ended up being a 10-day late period, we just figured that this was no different and she’d get her period super late again… well it was kind of true, only instead of being a month late, it’s going to be about a year late. The reason I’m posing with 3 pregnancy tests isn’t because we’re going to have 3 kids or because there’s triplets on the way (God willing), it’s because Rach took 3 separate tests because she couldn’t believe it was even a possibility… I obviously can’t go into any further detail than that because I’ve been banned from discussing certain topics by my modest wife.

We’re due February 13th. I feel like this is necessary information to give when posting about a pregnancy. People like that sort of thing. People also like pictures… So here’s the little munchkin:

I should rephrase - not “munchkin”, we’re referring to this baby as our “ Lil’ Lily Pad”... Milo was very unoriginally “Sweet-Pea”, Noli was “Cupcake”, later appropriately changed to “Beefcake”, now we’ve got a Lily Pad. Not really sure what the obsession with naming unborn babies after foods. I often wonder if we as parents subconsciously entertain the idea of cannibalizing things we love. “You’re so cute I could just eat you up!” or “I just want to nibble on those cheeks!”... We’re lost as a society.

So that’s all I got on Baby #3. Now onto Baby #2! Noli’s a 3 year old!!! Yesterday was my little bug’s birthday. Did I talk about how I call him “bug”? I don’t remember... mom-brain by proxy, remember. He was a cuddle bug, so I started calling him Noli-bug, now he’s just Bug. I don’t know why it’s so appropriate for him. There’s just something about that little stocky, squishy body that just screams “little bug”. I feel like he’s destined to be in a gang someday with that name.

Anyway, he’s 3 and I’m just so proud and in love with the little bugger. The boy is a cuddly ray of sunshine. He loves hugging and kissing and saying “I love you”, and we in-turn soak it up like a sponge. He’ll just walk over and sit on you without any warning and nuzzle right up. He’ll put his arm around you, he’ll stop whatever he’s doing at random to look at you and say he loves you, then he’ll kiss you on the hand or on the head. Sometimes he’ll play with your hair or rub your arm… It’s so much adorableness that you literally feel like you’re going to implode with bliss. Rachael says he’s the best little boyfriend she’s ever had… It’s probably true – I hated PDA when we were dating. Now I just sort of wait around corners and in dark shadows and guerrilla-style attack Rachael with hugs and kisses and retreat before she can tell me to stop… Okay, that came off as a little… assault-y? Sorry, but when your wife is pregnant, it’s very difficult to get so much as a high-five. You’re more likely to get slapped and commanded to turn down the thermostat… Which I gladly accept because at least she’s touching me. Why am I talking about this…

As I mentioned in my last post - Noli is still obsessed with Spider-Man. It’s actually gotten worse. We’re at a point now where you literally can’t give him anything without him demanding a Spider-Man version of it. My dad wants to get a boat: “A SPIDEY-BOAT??”. We take the boys for milkshakes: “CAN I HAVE A SPIDEY MILKSHAKE??” (hence he gets strawberry because it’s red, and anything that isn’t red isn’t spider-man… I don’t even think he likes strawberry shakes, but it’s all he’ll accept).

The worst thing you can do for a kid who’s obsessed with something specific like this is buy them one of those ‘surprise’ toys where you don’t know what you’re going to get… You had better pray to God that there’s a Spider-Man toy in there because if it’s Batman we’re all taking a trip to Meltdown Town. I tried to buy him one of those things at the airport. I bought two, one for Noli and one for Milo. I let Noli open the first one, it was Gamora (from Guardians of the Galaxy). Naturally… he was peeved. So without Milo knowing, I let Noli open the second one… It was Venom. Good lord, we were so close!! So he begins his freakout, and I quickly scramble to salvage the situation and tell him it’s “Black Spider-Man”. He called my bluff immediately. Apparently he, like Milo, is now impervious to my lies and deceptions (which I 100% rely on to maintain peace in my home). So what did he do? He ran to mommy and said “Daddy said this is Black Spider-Man… BUT IT’S NOT!”. Rach tells me to stop lying to the kids, Milo doesn’t get to open a toy, Noli is ticked off and somehow I’m now the bad guy for trying to be nice and buying my kids some freaking toys!

Christmas is so cancelled.

Luckily Milo didn’t seem to care all that much. He’s pretty chill about stuff like that. Not picky about his toys, not obsessed with anything in particular except for Math (because he’s an evil genius – yeah, you laugh, but you’ll all remember this blog in 30 years when he conquers a nation through an impressive combination of quantum physics and basic arithmetic). You should hear that boy talk, he’s practically an adult now. I can actually have conversations with him… granted they’re conversations through the mind of a 4 year old, so they go to some weird places, but when I talk to him, it’s almost as though he’s actually listening to me and understanding… Of course that just makes me even angrier when he pretends to not hear me when I tell him to eat, or go potty, or put his shoes on, or clean up his toys, or go to bed, or answer my questions, or stop bossing his brother around, or don’t touch the tv, or don’t touch the garbage, or don’t touch the toilet, or don’t throw your toys, or where did you get that plutonium, or stop building Lego nuclear warheads with it… Basic 4-year old stuff.

I’m still trying to figure out where that red telephone in his bedroom came from.

Sidetracked again. I joke a lot about Milo being insanely intelligent (which, yes, he is), but Noli’s no dummy either. His vocabulary is incredible now and he really just absorbs knowledge like a sponge (I’ve used ‘like a sponge’ twice now in this post). I overhear Milo actually teaching him words and numbers when they play together in the other room… When I say “other room” I’m referring to our living room on the other side of our house. When we’re home, we spend most of our time in the Family Room (TV room? Is that actually the Living Room and the other room is the Family room? I don’t get house things), but on the other side of the house, there’s the Living Room - which Noli refers to as “The Other Room”, but given that he’s 3 and can’t pronounce things terribly well, he says “Dove Room”... Which is just what we call it now, The Dove Room.

I love how he pronounces stuff, he still can’t say his “G” and “K” sounds, so he just replaces them with H’s… So instead of “Okay” it’s “Ohay”, or instead of Kabob it’s “Hobob”... I like Hobob, I feel like I could make a homeless cartoon character named Hobob and make a fortune off of insensitive people like myself. He could exist in the same universe as “Cider-Man”. I’m totally making the “Faux-Vengers”. Copyright Mark Marianelli 2017.

Anyway, I’ve rambled long enough and Rachael always scolds me for making these posts too long, so I’ll end it here…

Noli, you’re what our family has always needed, you give us endless hours of laughter, and the world just seems a little more hopeful with you in it. I love you, I love that you’re here, I’m proud of you and I can’t think of anything more joyous than watching you grow. I can’t wait to see what a wonderful big brother you’ll be soon. Happy Birthday, Little Bug.

Love, ~ Bat-Dad (Yeah, he thinks I’m Batman)

[opepin]

july: week three

17: i was really awake at 7:15 am when my alarm woke me up, but i went back to sleep for like 5 more minutes to see what i would do in the dream i was having. LOL. well, i got up, did my hiit workout, and i had the hardest time lowering my heart rate so i could stop sweating and take a shower. .___.; after like 10 minutes, i was finally able to do it...kinda, but i had to take a shower anyway and eat breakfast and then get to work on time...ish haha. my heart rate has dropped back down to 53 bpm :) yay, it makes me happy that it’s normalizing again. my face was pretty red and i was still sweaty when i got to the train... it’s okay! i just gotta keep going and wake up earlier to give my body time to cool down. the moment i walked in, cait was like woahhh, where have you been and etc. aw, it was nice welcome back chat with her, raj, joe, and charles. some of the devs weren’t there because they had to go to their client site and everyone apparently, just rolls in later on in the day now :O lol so my not being there is not a big deal :P

i started my work day by filling out an enrollment form for benefits! i’m getting my own dental insurance -- i feel so adult. lol. then i started working on templates mixed in with some internet errands. it’ll be a short week for me because i’m taking the day off to celebrate kevin’s birthday with him on thursday :3 hmm being at the office again is so far, refreshing. i got a good amount of work done and got to catch up with phil after lunch. charles made lunch plans so i went to south station to get food from the taco party food truck but they weren’t there... so i had to do some social media hunting and i found them down the street next to gogi on the block. i got their deep fried tofu and chorizo seitan taco with a side of tortilla chips and pinto dip. mmm. i ate all of that at my desk and i was so fullll. then i ate some of the cherries i brought from home. i ate so much that i was pretty uncomfortable in the tummy for the rest of the day lol.

i continued working until 4 pm and i got real worked up about tax withholdings and allowances because something changed in my paycheck and i was trying to figure out if i needed to fix it... sigh. then i noticed that haowei and charles dipped real quick after coming back from a bathroom break... raj said he hurt physically somewhere and cait, michelle, and i were all worried and watching him lol. then i left to catch the train where this lady (she was injured / had a limp) decided to take the stairs while the braintree train was approaching. the guy behind her turned around and ran down the other side of the stairs and i just stayed behind hoping that i would make it. then she stopped midway... and when she finally got to the bottom, my train JUST left. omg, i was in such a rage. it felt like she did it on purpose because she looked back at me right after the train left and then said nothing and stopped again. i just walked around her. the next train was 15 minutes away and it was flipping packed. i had to be standing behind the most inconsiderate human being. this guy decided that he owned the entire aisle and just let his body hang out 3/4 of the aisle while holding on to the top of the holds. his hand was inches away from my butt and i was putting all my body weight on my still healing foot. i was so ticked off that i kind of pushed him whenever i could and etc but he kept taking up space -_____-” #commuterrage

he left and i got a seat on the train for the rest of the ride. i picked up packages and had to get a trolley because one of my packages was just so freaking heavy. i only realized what it was when i opened it in the apartment... me and my mom got kevin a boos cutting board and i decided to splurge and get him the largest one... i didn’t expect it to be so damn heavy. well, i read 6.5 lbs but it was SO heavy. i decided to hide it along with the boxes (just in case we need to return for a more practically sized one) under half of the bed lol. then i went to play with the new smartphone lenses i got in the mail as well. the wide angle one works like a dream and the macro one is okay... i don’t think i’ll be using that one much anyway. when kevin came back, i debated on whether to keep or return them... i made a snapchat video and asked people and they all said to keep it. i had sort of an anger episode after telling kevin about my day and what i should do about my paycheck stuff and ugh, i just couldn’t not yell and kinda shake things around. i ran around the apartment yelling ‘why ______?! why ____?!?!’

then i exercised while kevin cooked steak for dinner. the video i did was more cardio than strength so i did a lot of cardio today and i was wiped out. i took a shower and then kevin and i ate his deliciously cooked steak topped with the most delicious onion glaze ever. we watched izombie, i cut up all the dying strawberries, we ate them, and then kevin went on a small run. he’s starting to do cardio now and he told me to keep him honest... WILL DO >:D haha. i did my pt stretches and iced my feet while reading a chapter of the journey mapping book. then i brushed and got into bed just right before 12 am. i stayed up relieving an itch to edit a picture i took today with the wide angle lens, updated to instagram, and then went to sleep at 12:30 pm. zzzz. i was working from home tomorrow so i would get enough sleep to wake up at 8 am. :)

18: i woke up at 8 am, did some hip hop cardio, showered, ate breakfast, and woke up kevin. then i started work, got fired up over an article about a girl’s post on linkedin that talked about job rejection (very generic) and how she is now getting job offers and that the linkedin post is now viral -__-”, and then got even more bummed out when i was talking to cole and he revealed that all the teams at t7 will be separated when we move office locations :/ and also that the dev team went to check out the space yesterday and left me in the dark... well, i’m not in the dev team so i guess i have no right to feel sad or left out, right? it’s gonna be an interesting move :/ sigh. i ate lunch while we had our all-hands and then went to pick up kevin’s present from the package concierge :) the packaging for the thing i got him is so on point. i’m so excited to surprise him thursday morning (:

i hopped on a call with phil and dave before stand up and we figured out some things. i pointed out some design details that could be addressed -- i’ve been feeling akjnskdf about my tasks right now because everything feels so disorganized with the new features even though it’s supposed to be easier to use the product :/ well, we figured stuff out, got on stand up, and then i worked on the templates for a bit and stopped because we have a trial with a potential customer tomorrow and we didn’t want to import any unfinished sample journey maps in there if i was working on any. i got pretty tired from everything that happened in the morning so i doodled a bit to make myself feel at least a bit better before taking a nap and then doing my ab workout. after i finished, i took some pictures for pas with the wide angle lens i got and also talked to vivian for a bit on chat. kevin came back early from climbing, showered, and then we cooked right away because both of us were pretty hungry.

i rested my foot while editing my instagram and stuff. my foot started to hurt a bit but nothing is swollen. i may have done too many jumps today and yesterday... we ate dinner while finishing the latest season of izombie?! i didn’t know we went through it all that quick ): now we have to find something new to watch and / or just wait for our shows to come out again. the rest of the night, i did my pt stretches while watching half of an episode of beat shazam and then read a chapter in the journey mapping book while icing my feet. then i got ready for bed and had the hardest time falling asleep... :( i knew i wasn’t gonna get a good night’s rest by the time i did ko...

19: i had a slight headache when i woke up and my foot kind of hurt so i did low impact cardio in the morning. then i showered and ate breakfast. my stomach was cramping a lot so i decided to work from home in the morning and then head over to the office after my physical therapy appointment. i fell asleep trying to wake up kevin LOL but then i woke up and got started on work. i put on the latest world of dance episode and then continued creating templates. my stomach felt slightly uncomfortable the rest of the morning... i ate some plain buns before heading out to physical therapy. i had a bit of a longer session today because it was my last. there was some swelling in my foot again but that’s because i did 2 hiit workouts in one day on accident... i got a good farewell and then walked over to the office. i ate lunch before hopping on stand up and getting on a call. after that, i wrapped up what i did today and then headed out to pick up kevin from work at around 4:30 pm. i looped around to grab kevin a slice of cake from flour bakery and got lost doing that... so i was really sweaty by the time i got to kevin. it was soooo humid and hot today.

we walked to south station because the silver line was working above ground today and it was too hot for that. we got to south station and it was PACKED. we waited for 2 trains and then rq’d and made a reservation at a restaurant on opentable and walked over there LOL. we actually made a reservation for miel, a restaurant i booked for tomorrow’s dinner... so i had to tell kevin and he just laughed and called himself clever... haha. we were the first ones to get dinner and we also looked really out of place with our attire HAHA. we were also super sweaty. kevin got scallops and risotto and i got ratatouille pasta with red wine sangria. the sangria was good~ the pasta was subpar, but kevin’s food was deliciousssss. lol we felt too out of place to ask for the pasta to go in a box so the waiter took it and we never saw the rest again. oh well~ :/ by the time we finished eating, south station was pretty empty. we got home and just chilled out. i didn’t exercise in the evening because i walked like 40+ minutes in the humidity and i sweated a lot. so i just showered and watched beat shazam before hopping into bed at around 12 am. i stayed up to wish kevin a happy birthday of course :)

20: i got out of bed at 10:30 am or so and then set up all of kevin’s gifts on the island, wrote him a card, and made the gifts look presentable LOL. kevin already knew that he was getting a cutting board, but not the skillet and the accessories :) i woke him up at around 11:20 am and then brought him to the island and he was actually so surprised. i thought he knew i was going to get him a cast iron skillet because i’ve been telling him that we should cook steak and etc. haha. he got caught up in reading about seasoning it but then we got ready to leave for brunch at brownstone! the ‘t’ trains got there whenever we got on the platform so we had perfect timing today. we ordered drinks and got delicious egg benedicts and hash. i got the duck and sweet potato hash and kevin got the pulled pork benny. everything was delicious~ they even put a candle in his english muffin LOL <3 we got midday tipsy from drinking and walked around copley mall for a bit before going home.

we chilled on the sofa for a while when we got home. kevin read fanfic while i talked to people on facebook messenger. then we drove to roche bros to get ingredients for steak dinner (: we got back and kevin started seasoning the skillet while i did my workout for the day. he looked so happy with that large af cutting board and skillet. :P i showered and then watched kevin cook. hehe, he looked so happy. kevin had to clean the skillet a bit after cooking so our food kind of got cold but still delicious! kevin made us roasted potatoes, asparagus, and a medium steak with mushroom and onions on top. mmm. we ate while watching ‘quanitco.’ lol i got hooked right at the very first episode and we watched maybe 4-5 episodes after because there is always a twist!!! i got ready for bed before 12 am and then spent the final minutes just cuddling with kevin :3 then i went to sleep. kevin handed me my feet xray bill though and i had to look at it before i went to sleep and it got me so tilted because they charged me more than the received estimate. .__. i spent some time looking up the massachusetts pricing transparency law for health care and just gave up and went to sleep at 1 am. i did not sleep well though.

21: the health care system in america sucks. i woke up in a pretty bad mood because i looked at my x-ray bill yesterday night and i woke up with the same disgruntled thoughts -_- after brushing my teeth, i called them and they said they had no record of the estimate i was given, but they did call to check and gave me 10% off my bill. so i guess it turned out alright because i ended up paying around what i was quoted for, but still, wtf, health care? after that call, i ate breakfast, and started my work day. i felt like i needed to exercise but i needed to get some actual work done today because i feel like i’m lagging behind in some ways. i did a good amount of work and then i fit in a 30 minute oblique workout before showering, washing the dishes, and making sure all is well in the apartment before heading out to meet kevin at the envoy. this meant me stressing out about meeting him later than usual. i did calm down on the train ride there and told kevin how i felt. the overnight bag was hella heavy though so i had to stop on the bridge and rest before meeting up with kevin. my back was soaked when i got there.

we checked in and went to our room first. the room was so nice :) i loved the sliding doors with the antique map designs on them. i really liked the tv and its placement right in front of the bed. kevin and i watched quantico before getting ready to head out to miel for his birthday dinner. it was a nice walk there but our dinner there wasn’t...well, the service was pretty bad and it might be because we used a voucher? but i’m not sure. we got seated outside right away but it took forever for our server (he reminded me of my grandpa) to get our order and get our food out. he forgot to make our sangria and apologized but we were almost at our entrees by the time he remembered. he kept disappearing and attended to other tables before us for some reason too. well, the food was pretty good. we got beef tartare, atlantic sole and gnocchi, steak and frites, and sorbet for dessert. mmm. we had to take our entrees back to the hotel only to find out that there wasn’t a mini fridge. well, our dinner was 2 hours long and we spent more than half of that waiting for our food. :/ so meh. we were really full when we got back so we rested and then got a bucket of ice for our food (didn’t use it though) and then we explored the hotel. they have a fancy af fitness center that we ended up not using.

we walked along the wharf and it was so nice :) then we spent the rest of the night watching quantico. the shower was nice too with the waterfall design and the space. the envoy also has fresh brand shampoo and lotion (ofc i took that stuff when we checked out). we got a vegan almond butter coconut ice cream sandwich before room service closed down for the night and it was DELICIOUS. we stayed up until 4 am and then went to sleep in the comfy hotel bed. what a day. what an experience with kevin (: <3 i hope he’s enjoying his birthday weekend so far. hehe i love spending time with him and staying in nice hotels lulz.

22: we did wake up at 10:15 am and then i ordered room service for us for breakfast. it was so exciting! :) i got steel cut oatmeal and kevin said it did taste better than regular oatmeal hehe. i also got $6 chamomile tea... why is tea so expensive at hotels? we watched an episode of quantico as we ate breakfast and packed. lol i think we’re very lbejafhsjdf about the characters right now. we finished packing and checked out right at 12 pm. then we stopped by starbucks so i could get a drink and get gold status again LOL. we finished the pink drink by the time we got to south station. when we got back to the apartment, i unpacked all of our stuff, chilled on the sofa for a while, and i tried on my warby parker glasses. i hated them LOL. the lenses caused a lot of chromatic abberation and made my eyes terribly small so i was not into them. the frames also felt/looked smaller than they were in the store?? kevin said they looked fine and he still liked them but i was not into them. so i asked him if we could drive over to south end to spectacles and check out their frames and etc.

even though he was tired, kevin agreed and then we left :) so grateful for this bear <3 we found a really good parking spot and then met paul, the owner of the store. he adjusted my glasses for me and checked the prescription and he suggested frames and etc. the moment i walked in there, i knew that i was gonna buy glasses from him and return my warby parker ones. kevin and i had a fun time trying on glasses. kevin was also bummed because we went down to the leasing office to make an appointment to see the apartment with the den earlier that day and she told us that they had someone else sign a lease for that apartment already... wtf? we’ve been talking to her about it for weeks and they mentioned nothing about this until now. i was ajkfnsjkf about it but not as much as kevin. i got these cute round “treasure” glasses and 1.74 high index lenses for $250. it would have cost about the same if i upped the lenses to 1.74 at warby parker as well.

we drove right to kam man because we were hungry and made a makeshift meal plan for the week because we’re leaving on friday. we split a beijing crepe and bought some buns. unff chinese sponge / chiffon cakes are the best. we were in and out real quick. we put everything away when we got home and then kevin played some hollow knight while i watched. then kevin went to cook and i did 30 minutes of cardio. we ate dinner while watching quantico and then kevin went to run in the fitness center and i just did dance cardio in the apartment. this new video is pretty great, but lots of jumping x( i stopped by the center to give company to kevin and then got distracted by talking to daniel about bartering LOL. kevin showered first while i did the dishes haha and then i showered and i think we stayed up watching quantico? maybe we didn’t...but it says on my fitbit that i went to sleep at 2:30 am... he might have gamed while i watched some thing on the ipad. zzz. well, we stayed up because we had nothing planned for tomorrow :)

23: it was our lazy day today. kevin got up at 10 am to talk to priya on the phone and i lazed in the bed until around 10:30 am. i ate a banana with peanut butter and some oatmeal for breakfast while i looked at this week’s coupons and planned my outfits for our upcoming trip on friday! i watched some youtube videos and then crawled back into bed after a bit. after his call, kevin made soup dumplings and i ate some along with leftovers. i did some packing while kevin gamed a bit and then we went to bj’s to use our coupons. we stocked up on a ton of meat and i got more contact solution and lotion~ we also got a 6-pack of lunchables...LOL. right when we got back, we split a pizza and nacho one. mmm they still taste the same. then kevin went to game while i did a bit of cleaning. then we watched a few more episodes of quantico and then kevin cooked japanese curry for dinner. i did 30 minutes of cardio while kevin cooked and then stopped to fold laundry. then we ate dinner and watched more quantico. i also talked to my mom for a bit and she told me to have safe travels~ we also ended up eating 5/6 lunchables by the end of the day and then i did 30 minutes of back and then 20 more minutes of hip hop cardio because i was feeling bad about eating them lunchables LOL. i showered and then got ready for bed and snoozed at around 12 am. wow, we did a lot today :O