#also i lied I have the laundry day stuff pack

[aquariustraits]

that being said.... if anyone has any recommendations of what to purchase next........

packs i already own under the cut:

cats & dogs

city living

cottage living

discover university

get famous

get to work

get together

island living

seasons

dream home decorator

parenthood

laundry day

country kitchen kit

desert luxe

i wish packs weren't so expensive for the game !!! i already have a good few expansions, game packs and even a few kits (no stuff packs tho) but to download builds or save files i always feel like i need so many more :--(

[dapandapod]

How I would kiss you

Hello there! Remember this drabble? yes it's from 2022, yes it got finished in 2024! Formatting is a pain on tumblr and i'm tired, but here is soem of the good stuff, pulled out from the fic itself! :))) Read the entire thing on Ao3 here! Please enjoy!

After an hour or so, Jaskier gives up, and is in the middle of changing into his sleeping clothes when Geralt returns. He startles when the door opens, standing shirtless and feeling strangely vulnerable when Geralt locks eyes with him.

They stand there just for a beat too long, Jaskier with his arms still in the tunic he was taking off, Geralt's eyes dipping just the once to roam over his chest. Nothing he's not seen before but this feels different.

"Did you win?" he asks, Geralt finally stepping properly into the room and turning to his own bed and his own pack.

"Two out of three. That last woman had a mean deck."

Jaskier will not pretend to understand the language of Gwent, so he nods and rummages for his sleeping tunic. A soft, worn out thing, a tunic that once was light blue now so faded it looks a soft gray.

When his night time routine is done, Jaskier sits down on his bed and watches Geralt. It's almost tradition, waiting for the other to be properly done before tucking in.

It also gives Jaskier a wonderful view of that wonderful witcher body, dimples on his lower backs, muscles on his shoulders rippling under the skin as he slowly puts his sleep wear on. Very...slowly.

Geralt throws a look over his shoulder, catching Jaskier staring. Normally he would wink, but now all he does is blush and look away.

Fuck.

They talk a little about their traveling plans, about rumors of a nest of foglets two days away. As soon as their laundry is done, they will be on their way. Meaning, there will hopefully be a rare chance to sleep in, despite cruel witcher habits, and as soon as

Jaskier mentions it teasingly, Geralt gives him a fond smile.

This is not good.

They settle into their respective beds, Jaskier's heart aching in his chest. He lies staring up at the ceiling, an echo of yesterday, but without the tent and without the rain.

"You came back early today," Geralt says on the other side of the dark room. "Were they no good?"

Jaskier sucks on his lower lip. Now that Geralt has mentioned it, it’s even harder to stop, desperately wanting it to be Geralt sucking on it instead.

"Not bad. Just..... eager."

Neither says anything for a long moment, and Jaskier belatedly realizes something. Maybe Geralt was slow redressing on purpose. Maybe... maybe he isn't the only one thinking about this so much it hurts.

Before he can talk himself out of it, Jaskier does what he does best. He blurts out what's on his mind.

"I think you were right."

The darknes is quiet, somehow more quiet than before he opened his fucking idiot mouth.

"I'm always right," Geralt mutters, making Jaskier huff out a nervous laugh. "What about?"

Well.

Here we are.

"I think you have me figured out. I would want you to kiss me like that."

Not 'to be’ kissed like that. He wants Geralt to kiss him like that.

He can hear nothing but the hammering in his chest, the blood whooshing in his ear, and he realizes he is holding his breath.

"Told you so," Geralt says, and he really doesn't make this easy for Jaskier, does he?

Bastard.

".....Would you?" Jaskier says quietly, feeling every insecure inch of his heart bared.

There is another silence, and then there is movement on the other side, and Jaskier holds his breath again. Rustling of the blanket, footsteps so quiet, Jaskier is afraid he is imagining it. Then the bed dips as Geralt sits down.

Jaskier can't see much, just the dark outline against an even darker room, but Geralt surely can read the longing on his face, hear his strained breathing, his hoping heart.

"You want me to? Now?" Geralt whispers, and Jaskier nods eagerly.

Hot hands grab his, slowly guiding them upwards. The bed dips again, jostling Jaskier, and suddenly he is straddled, thighs on both sides of his, holding him in place.

"You sure?" Geralt whispers, leaning over him, fingers sliding over Jaskier's palm as he pins them over his head.

"Only if you want it too," Jaskier dares, sensing Geralt slowly leaning over him.

"I keep thinking about it," Geralt murmurs, his breath hitting Jaskier's face. "Just like this."

His grip tightens around Jaskier's wrists, thighs tensing as their weight shifts. Geralt is leaning over him on his elbow, holding him in place.

"Last chance, bard," Geralt warns him, and Jaskier full body shivers.

[stargazer-sims]

Sugar Valentine Hideaway - DOWNLOAD

Welcome to the beautiful Mt. Komorebi valley, where this house lies nestled in a secluded spot by the lake. Aptly called The Hideaway, this converted manor house serves as both home and studio for the boy band, Sugar Valentine.

Sugar Valentine Hideaway

Lot Type: Residential Lot Size: 50x50 In-Game Price: $244,799 Bedrooms: 3 Bathrooms: 4 Lot Traits: Sunny Aspect, Great Acoustics, Peace and Quiet Lot Challenges: none

ABOUT

This build requires bb.moveobjects on

I have every pack except Journey to Batuu, and I also have several kits. I didn't keep track of content from specific packs & kits that I used in this build, but I can tell you that you will definitely require Snowy Escape and the Industrial Loft Kit. Other DLC needed for this build are the Everyday Clutter Kit, Laundry Day Stuff, High School Years, and Discover University, but honestly... the more packs/kits you already have, the closer you'll get to the original build.

This is not a CC-free build. It's not heavy on custom content, and you can certainly use it without CC, as none of the custom items are structural or building elements. Custom Content used in this build is all from creators who offer their work for free.

TOU

do not claim as your own

do not reupload (especially not to pay sites)

feel free to remodel, redecorate, reassign the lot type or do whatever you like to make it unique to you!

This is not a requirement, but if you decide to use it, I'd love to see! Also, if you like this, please comment and/or share!

The download link, more images, and CC credits are under the cut. This build is available now for free!

Sugar Valentine Hideaway - DOWLOAD from SFS

______

CC credits - @peacemaker-ic @syboubou @mxims Bill L @applezingsims BrittPinkieSims @gfvsims @artrui and of course me... @stargazer-sims-cc

[worldwright]

Good evening !

I'm terribly exhausted and one fic i followed just ended today :/

and we got another visit on wednesday, i hope it won't be canceled at the last minute...

i don't feel great at all today, and it's not even because of the 7th month anniversary of my attempt. like, yeah, a bit, but it was bc i talked about it with my friend yesterday -she was the one i waited for the ambulance with so, yeah

because i lied so badly that day, i said i went to a walk without Laika, me and only me, a walk ?! wtf, and i was high as fuck, and i literally said to my mother that i saw my friend "by chance" during my walk and that she asked if i was good for a sleepover at her house. my mother literally went to her place to give me my pj and my keys, and she thought everything was normal

and my father ? this cunt ? he saw me leaving the house and just thought "weird huh"

like, i tagged almost all my mutuals in that post that day, and you were all better than my family ever since my attempt. they don't fuckin care enough

have a wonderful morning and some good rest my friend, i'll get myself some good fics tonight (and yep, i ate today ! <3)

good morning! ughhh sorry your mind is being mean to you :') my second tattoo session is tomorrow, super excited :3333333333 gotta remember to pack lunch n all

doing laundry today instead, cuz someone was taking up the entire laundry room all yesterday afternoon lol. not that i blame him, i kinda do the same. just comes with having a fuckin tiny-ass communal laundry room and the tendency to procrastinate chores...

gonna coordinate with my mom to have her help me take stuff to be donated, since i'm not super eager to carry a giant basket of random dishware on the bus LMAO

oh also some exciting news: my sister is officially no longer allergic to peanuts!! she was always deathly allergic, but apparently grew out of it cuz she just passed the test to be able to eat them! i'm really excited for her, just makes life so much easier

hope you find some good fics or games to help you relax tonight, friend!!

[beann-e]

I have a head cannon that bakugou would not be sweet to who he liked or dated and instead deny it and hate on them even more.

The reason being because he doesn’t really understand feelings so, when he’s talking badly about you he just assumes it’s normal and a bit funny at the lies he’s spitting that his just continuously friends are eating up.

he’s been talking bad about people for years so , who cares if your his s/o your no acceptation all people are equal in his mind. Now lemme explain please fall in line and hold a buddys hand kids we’re going on a trip inside my brain

It wasn’t easy getting the spiky haired male to ask you out honestly if someone asked you , which they’d never dare since they’d never know per bakugous request him saying it’s not their business , how you two got together you would shrug your shoulders and walk off.

It wasn’t that it was a boring day or a simple question that you supplied the answer for. It was that it was unusual.

You’d been at quirk practice after school in the gym like you’d usually do only this time bakugou made his way over to you.

You’d been seeing him more often when you were in the gym and you weren’t sure why until he explained that he was interested in your workout routine saying you two could have a contest to see who’s was more grueling

It seemed like fun so like any competitive person you agreed. Only for him to tap out on day two your laughs swirling around the gym as he fought so hard to say he only lost because he just didn’t like how the air would hit his ass crack anytime he did your little girly squats you’d wrote down for him.

You couldn’t say you weren’t both confused and happy when he let the air calm down before he spoke “ i’m kind of conflicted “ his eyes coming up to look at yours from the floor “ could you maybe help me“

“ of course what’s up “

“ i’m at a standstill “

“ more like a sit still “ you joked eyes peering down at his straight face “ yeah ok let’s imagine that didn’t happen —continue “

“ uh yeah anyways — i’m at a standstill because honestly I like your shit workout “ he shook his head to the floor “ but I also like you so I find myself thinking if I couldn’t get through your workout even though I enjoyed it so much could I “

his voice rasped shakily “ could I get through a relationship with you even though I like you even more “

truthfully you’d wish you’d said no because right now you wanted nothing more than to just be friends with the male sitting across the room from you.

It’s not that you didn’t like him of course you did he was hot , smart, and felt strongly about his goals but, he was an asshole.

Not in the aspect of hes just mean and rude but he was an all around prick as he laughed with his friends from across the room.

Their voices only getting louder as you sat alone a few seats away from them trying to complete some work on your desk you’d just been given “ dude gotta admit class 1-A’s got some hot chicks “

“ yeah honestly minas top three if we’re being truthful “

“mina dude come on have you seen jirou “

“ don’t even get me started “ denkis voice came out in a soft groan “ god I would— “

“ yeah yeah all that jazz but “ seros voice came out soft. His hand coming up to point at the seat as you sat in with your head down eyes furrowed in anger at the math on your paper that wasn’t syncing up with your brain right now

“ y/n “ his fist tightened as he groaned “ y/n could get it on all accounts — the car “

“ you don’t have a car “ denkis voice came out as sero continued

“ the school bathroom “

“ but which one ? because one of you would have to go in the wrong sex’s unless its a handicap or family stal-“

“the fucking dorms “

“ y/n ? “ kirishima asked quickly “ y/n l/n ? “

“ fuck yeah “

“ hmm “ kirishima studied you before shaking his head “ honestly kinda hot never really paid attention to that stuff before though “

“ what the fuck how can’t you “

“ uh i’m more so a personality guy “

“ so by personality would you fuck em ‘ “

“ not to be vulgar but of course “ his answer taking no time “ y’know how fun they’d be in a relationship though not just with sex ? imagine cuddles—fuck —what about cuddle monster y/n maybe ? god that’d be so hot “

denki getting restless as he held his thoughts in from the other males. His mind spazzing before finally getting to speak “ i’d fuck her too “ he yelled everyone’s eyes going sharp on the boy before he coughed “ id rock it too — we’re talking about getting mullets “

“ oh boys that’d be kinda hot “ you said laughing sarcastically sero turning to you smiling softly “ oh yeah on who in particular “

“ mm totally blondie over there “

“ the fuck ? “ his eyes shot away from denkis and moved to yours anger pouring through his gaze making you jerk back a little in surprise “ the hell you mean i’d look hot “

your eyebrows creased “ well because I — you do you would “

“ don’t go talking out of your ass you hear me—shit people like you don’t deserve to talk to anyone about looks “ your mouth went dry at his lazer stare.

His lips curling up into a smirk before he shook his head “ these assholes are talking about fucking you yknow “ he whispered to you “ you gonna let em ? you gonna let em right? because that’s the only attention you’d ever get right “

“ bakubro hold up chill out “

“ yeah bakubro chill out “ you said your gaze wavering from the hard one you’d had when you felt the heat radiating off of him no comfort coming from him to you only confusing you more. Had you two been in a secret argument that you knew nothing about

“ whatever “ he leaned back in his chair as the class went back to what they were doing your hands gripping the pencil when the class got even louder but you only searching for your boyfriends voice easily drowning out the others

“ i’d never fuck “ your heart broke at the deep voice youd identified

“ dude seriously come on with the lies —fucking beautiful “

“ correctomundo my friend their absolutely stunning “

his laugh ripping through their claims hand jerking back to point at you “ you think their beautiful much less hot ? “

“ yeah you don’t ? “ denki spat all of them looking at the boy like he was crazy for enjoying this obviously racy topic right now much less taking the wrong side of the debate

“ I literally just sat here and said I wouldn’t fuck em’ pokémon —so you can guess what that correlates to “

“ hey dude why’re you being sucha a dick —the personality’s top tier even if your stupid enough to think their not at least hot“ kirishima putting the ending words in quotation marks honestly a bit upset with his friend

“ hey watch it your over here defending an extra like your gonna make moves on em “ he laughed “ I advise otherwise “

you let out a sigh thinking he’d finally stopped acting the way he was. Your mind preparing to only give him the silent treatment for today and then tomorrow peppering him with kisses until he laughed and apologized for his words

Heart only being snatched away from your body when you heard his deep vibrating voice cut through the room “ probably gonna give you a rash from all the shit that’s on their mouth all the time “

it’s just lipgloss.

Lipgloss bakugou bought you packs of earlier this week after he swore he loved the taste and scent.

moving to wipe at it gently with the sleeve of your outfit him still going causing tears to start building up in your eyes “ bet the bitch doesn’t even shower —had em’ over for a project last night had to wash my sheets and blanket —took hours last night “

“ oh “ denki let out “ I was a bit confused when I saw you at the laundry room at 3 in the morning.

Tears blurring your vision as you thought about his earlier words when he’d given you your favorite sweater of his after saying he’d washed it for you because he knew you wouldn’t do it yourself because in his words ‘ you would never wash it without his help because you were a creep and didn’t want to erase his smell or some shit ‘

“ yeah —smelled so bad im telling you stay away you don’t wanna ask em’ out “

you moved to grab your phone as he kept talking you typing out a message as best as you could before hitting send. His hand moving off the desk and going in his pants pocket to pull his phone out keeping it hidden under the table eyes trailing over the screen

Firefighter >3

baby are we arguing

if your mad at me please just tell me don’t just talk shit about me in front of your friends

him locking his phone and placing it on his desk before you typed out one more message him letting out a sigh as he grabbed for it again

firefighter >3

if you keep going we’re over

“ but imagine whoever bags them apart from bakugou at least since we all know he’s all anti hot y/n “

“ they’d be so lucky “

“ yeah right “ he spoke lowly almost trying to hide his voice from you eyes glued to his phone “ wouldn’t dare “

“ wouldnt dare what bakugou “

“ oh wouldnt dare be —-be lucky “ he locked his phone again “ feel bad for the person dating them all the shit they gotta go through put up with , claims they make through message and not with real words, being too much of a pussy to speak up for themselves“

he shook his head softly eyes twitching “ you wouldn’t put up with that —you couldn’t put up with that your not built for it you gotta have tough skin y’know like me “

he licked his lips moving to sit up straighter when hearing his phone vibrate “ don’t uh “

firefighter >3

one more bakugou

one more bakugou katsuki and were over

his eyes darting over to yours before his eyebrows furrowed and body shook in anxiousness he couldn’t figure out what to do.

He was an asshole you knew this so why the fuck were you being such a crybaby now? did he pick the wrong person to date he thought you were strong

He genuinely just wanted to keep these creeps away from what’s his by scaring them off he wasn’t doing anything wrong? well at least in his eyes

He moved to talk again trying his best to string together a nice sentence “ just don’t uh ask —ask em’ out —-their utter dog shit when it comes to relationships leave it to someone who can handle that y’know “

he relaxed into his chair at his victory when he watched you throw your phone to the table and fix your skirt and standup. Him sighing out when you picked up your stuff to leave “ thank all might “ he whispered head shooting to lean back against his desk chair and look up at the sky blood running cold when his phone vibrated against the table

firefighter >3

all your shits gonna be outside my dorm door. So you might want to come collect it before I have half and half lighting campfires tonight

y’know since i’m such a shit person —gotta hope your bestie deku can give me some after school lessons on personalities. He’s so sweet I bet he’ll fix me right up

screw you katsuki see you in hell

“ the —the fuck what did —the hell did I do wrong “ he screamed when he saw you slam the classroom door after flicking him off

his friends eyes moving from the door to bakugous phone that he’d thrown on the table.

Todorokis eyes going wide when he read his stupid nickname given to him by the steamy male “ I —I uh“ he coughed “ I think i’m gonna go help y/n since their now single—don’t want em’ getting hurt with amateur fire starters again when i’m right here “

his stone face peered down at the red faced boy “ I mean that is ok with you bakugou seeing as though you two were most likely in a relationship by the messages before today “

“ you asshole did you go through me and my s/o’s messages “

“ judging by the series of recent text I don’t believe that’s the case for you two anymore “ he reached to grab his backpack saying a formal goodbye before he spoke “ I feel like i’m needed by a very —very perfectly intelligent unshitty person right now “

seros voice coming out softly as he let bakugous phone fall to the table disappointment in his eyes “ look uh —dude you didn’t have to mess your relationship up just to go against us ? “ he winced at the claim“ honestly you could’ve stayed quiet the whole time —it’s not like we agreed with you anyways “

bakugou leaned back in his chair anger swirling in his stomach as he felt his body sweat at the new heat spreading throughout his whole body.

How the hell did he mess up where the hell did he mess up he explained to you he wasn’t gonna treat you any differently than any other extra here and that went for basic conversations too

Maybe he went a bit far with the dont date em ‘ that was probably it you didn’t like how he said don’t date you because he was the only one who could handle you right ?

He shook his head a bit confused you just wanted him to say that you could handle yourself and didn’t need him right ?

So , why the hell did he feel like he’d done something wrong he wasn’t stupid but he just wasn’t well versed in feelings. He already didn’t know how to handle his own so how was he expected to handle another persons.

To him his words were normal he talked about all people like this hell, he bullied deku for 3 years going as far as to make a special nickname for him

that wasn’t even the worse he could’ve done and you knew that so why was he in trouble and worrying about Icy hot taking his place

He was honestly confused?

Could words really be that hurtful?

could his words really be that hurtful ?

[usercelestial]

I WOULD LOVE maybe a story of mickey feeling really underappreciated and ians gotta reassure him!

Mickey isn’t sure when the fuck he became a housewife but he’s fucking sick of it.

Ever since Ian became an EMT again, he’s been coming home tired, immediately wanting to eat and crawl into bed. At first Mickey didn’t think much of it, he simply made dinner, cleaned up afterward, then crawled in right after Ian.

Then it became a weekly thing, then daily. Since Mickey has more flexible hours, the cleaning lands on him. His off days are spent cleaning up what he couldn’t on his work days while Ian sits on his ass complaining about his day. He finds Ian’s stupid left-over smoothies on the counter and his clothes strewn around the apartment carelessly.

He doesn’t know when he started to care about this stuff but it’s more about the principle of it.

When was the last time Ian did the dishes?

When was the last time Ian cooked dinner?

When was the last time Ian did the laundry?

Or for that matter, when was the last Ian even helped with those things?

So one day, he breaks. He wakes up early in the morning; they’ve fallen into a routine of making each other lunch but of course recently, it’s mostly been Mickey doing it all. He walks out into the kitchen and sees the sink full of dishes, the counter top littered with cups and wrappers, and sitting amongst it all is Ian’s stupid work uniform that he forgot to wash last night.

He snaps.

Absolutely fucking not, he turns on his heels and walks back to bed, sinking into unconsciousness without a care in the world.

“Mickey!” He wakes up to Ian shouting his name, “Did we not wash the clothes last night?”

We.

“No!” Mickey growls, “We didn’t.”

“Oh,” he sounds clueless, like he didn’t understand the purpose of Mickey saying we.

“Fucking Gallagher,” Mickey closes his eyes once more then he hears Ian call his name again.

“I guess we didn’t pack lunches, did we?”

We.

“No, we fucking didn’t!” Mickey turns on his side and squishes the pillow over his ears.

Ian walks into the room, smiling, strolling over to his fuming husband, “That’s fine, gotta go though,” he leans down and moves the pillow gently from Mickey’s face, planting a kiss on his cheek, “Love ya, have a good day.”

Mickey grunts in response but watches as Ian leaves.

The whole day goes about like that, Mickey feeling pissed off but Ian not reacting.

Ian texts late in the day, about the time that Ian is supposed to get home.

> What are we having for dinner?

Mickey doesn’t respond.

> You’re probably busy cleaning, text me when you can.

Mickey almost throws his phone.

He sits on the couch, watching trashy T.V. and refusing to pay attention to the mess in the kitchen until Ian opens the door, yawning. He looks at Ian, whose eyes are red and droopy with exhaustion. Ian stretches his neck and peers at the kitchen, puzzled, “Why’s the kitchen so messy?”

Mickey bites the inside of his cheek, “Cause no one fucking cleaned it. What? You think a magical fucking fairy comes and cleans up your fucking mess while you’re away?”

Ian looks taken aback, his mouth hanging open dumbly, “Well, no. I figured you would though.”

“Like I always fucking do?” Mickey raises his voice, the tension that’s been building suddenly finding an outlet.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Ian rubs his temple, like he’s annoyed.

“Fuck you is what I’m talking about! I’m talking about how I’m the fucking one cooking and cleaning like a goddamn maid while you go to work just to come home and complain. I’m fucking sick of it is what I’m talking about!” Mickey’s breathing hard and fast, his chest rising and falling at an alarming rate.

“Mick-” Ian reaches out for him.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Mickey goes to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. He expects the door to open again with Ian walking through.

It never does.

Mickey crawls into bed, miserable; anger and melancholy coursing through his veins while he falls asleep.

He wakes up to hear a loud beep coming from the kitchen, he sighs and goes to check on it.

Alarmed is the word that comes to mind when he finds Ian standing in the middle of the now clean kitchen, biting his lip while he scoops something from a pot and places it into a bowl.

“What the fuck is this?” Mickey sees Ian jump and almost spill whatever he’s made.

“Shit, I was gonna wake you up.”

“Already did,” Mickey crosses his arms but takes a step into the kitchen.

Ian bites his lip again, looking embarrassed, “It’s been a while since I’ve cooked anything but here,” Mickey makes his way beside Ian, cautiously looking into the bowls.

It’s spaghetti, Mickey’s favorite.

In a glass next to the bowl is champagne.

“Fucking Gallagher,” Mickey says under his breath.

“Is that a good fucking Gallagher or a bad fucking Gallagher,” Ian hands Mickey the glass.

Mickey looks around. Not only is the kitchen completely clear of any mess, the living room is to. It looks brand fucking new, like the day they moved in together.

Mickey shrugs, “Depends on if you got the good champagne,” he lies, knowing that he’s thoroughly impressed by Ian’s efforts.

“I’m sorry,” Ian’s shoulders sink.

“Does that mean you didn’t get the brand I like,” Mickey says, eyeing the cup.

“What? No, I mean, I’m sorry I left you to do all the shit. I didn’t mean to, I just got distracted by work but I don’t want you to think I don’t care,” Ian’s looking at him with pleading eyes, his tone is genuine.

Mickey rolls his eyes and puts the glass down, “It’s just that we’re supposed to be partners, right? Isn’t that the shit we decided? Neither one of us does more of the cleaning than the fucking other one, right?” He remembers Veronica’s words and the conversation that followed suit while they got high. He thought they were on the same page.

“I know. We are. I’m gonna do better, honey, I promise.”

Mickey gives in, feeling hungry and tired, physically and emotionally, “Fucking better. If you treat like a fucking housewife, I’m gonna make myself a fucking widow, you hear me?”

Ian nods, smiling but Mickey continues, “Just didn’t feel very fucking-fuck-I don’t know.”

“Appreciated?” Ian fills in for him.

Mickey nods.

“Believe me, baby. I fucking love you,” he leans down and kisses hims softly, “Love what you do, appreciate it so much,” he kisses his neck just as softly, not enough to start anything but enough to make Mickey shudder with anticipation, “Now eat before your food gets cold. Don’t worry about cleaning up, I’ll get it when we’re done, okay?”

Mickey nods and walks to the couch, they sit and talk like they haven’t in a while. Just the two of them and some reality show they put on the background.

They go to bed late, Mickey falling asleep while Ian peppers him with kisses and spoons him, both men prepared to go forward as partners like they decided as newlyweds.

When Mickey wakes up, Ian’s already gone to work, he makes his way to the clean kitchen. Ian must have cleaned up their dinner mess before he headed out. It's nice.

He also finds a lunch box, filled with a sandwich cut into two, a bag of chips, a water that Ian always yells at him to drink, and a note that reads:

“Love you, baby. Have a good day.

P.S. I’ll always appreciate you, no matter what <3”

[disease-danger-darkness-silence]

Things I need to do today:

- Make a list of medical things to bring up with the doctor for BOTH Raven and myself. Also update our medication list.

- Find my health monitoring equipment. It got packed somewhere about two months ago.

- Make appointments for Raven and I at the doctor's, on the same day because it's in Minden.

- Call a low-income property management company and see if they have any downstairs units near me coming free. Called, left message.

- Check in with the other low-income place and see how far along on the waitlist we are. Still 4 months out, ughhh.

- Call the tire place and see how much a set of brand-new tires is going to cost because holy shit, I need them. I found the note I made when I called them a few months ago. $368 out the door.

- Call a transmission place and get a quote for a transmission tune-up. Call Alex and ask for the same.

- Check in with our case manager with Nation's Finest, give update, see if they can help with tire cost and maybe transmission tune-up.

- Wake Raven up.

- Clean car out.

- Go to pharmacy, pick up prescriptions and find out about Raven's unfilled ones.

- Go to Dollar Store, get garment boxes for mailing paperbackswap books.

- Get gas. Thank Thoth for my Maverick card.

- Get OIL. Also thank Thoth for my Maverick card.

- Get beverages (using EBT, thank God) for Raven, myself, my not-spawn, and her kid.

- Get cigarettes.

- Take my daughter and granddaughter to the doctor in Reno. Cry inside bc I refuse to smoke around children but driving is a smoking trigger for me.

- Find someone to give these sugarfree Red Bulls to, because they have aspartame in them and I have bad reactions to it. Probably my daughter, she likes Red Bull. 🤮 My daughter really did get them and did like them.

- DoorDash up in Reno because we basically work every day now. (POSTPONED TO TOMORROW BECAUSE OF BACK ISSUES.)

- Maybe Spark deliver a little when we get back home, depending on how early it is. (POSTPONED TO TOMORROW BECAUSE OF BACK ISSUES.)

- Fix my health recording sheets. Print and laminate.

- Mail off paperbackswap books. Can print postage at home and drop off books tomorrow. (POSTPONED TO TOMORROW BECAUSE OF MONEY ISSUES.)

---------------------------

Tomorrow:

(Taking the day off from DoorDashing and Spark-ing, hopefully.)

- Pay @alyssabethancourt back.

- Go to DWSS before 3 pm and explain that hi, sorry I didn't fill out the re-application stuff for SNAP and Medicaid, I've been busy preparing to be homeless, and then re-apply for said benefits. Before that I have to pick up the Not-Spawn to come with me and apply for her own benefits.

- Continue to try and find an apartment and/or house within our budget. Nation's Finest is going to pay half our rent for two years if we can get into a place, but we have to find a place where even half the rent is manageable for me. Near-impossible these days.

- Buy and install oil pan gasket. Chase said he'd help me, which is an asset.

- Get an oil change. I have to take care of this Kia because it's all we have to make money with.

- Pay title loan.

- Pay PayPal the $20 I owe them.

- Buy a footlocker for my tools.

- If there's money left over, go to Costco and get toilet paper, printer paper, card stock, and vitamins. Mostly the vitamins, we need a bunch of different types and we are OUT. I'm -$20 in PayPal but uhh my PayPal is tashabot at gmail and my Cashapp is $tashabot if anyone wants to contribute to Tasha and Raven Not Dying of Malnutrition.

- Cry because that's paycheck.

- List the other books I found on paperbackswap.

- Pack "Keep" books up.

- List bookcase on Craigslist. What does a nice bookcase go for these days?

- If able, do laundry.

- If there's time, work on the, "Emergency TCG kit," for the car, for times when we are away from our regular TCG stuff but have an invite to play or were able to treat ourselves to some smash-up decks or something. I need at least one more of our life counters, to put the punch-out tokens in a lil ziploc, and to design some token cards in Photoshop to print out.

---------------------------

But according to a lot of people I'm a lazyass bc I don't have a full-time job. Recall that I'm doing all of this while in a lot of fucking pain (because of three different spinal issues, arthritis in most of my joints, shoulder issues, hip issues, knee issues, and an ankle that never developed adult muscles), with ADHD (which causes time blindness), autism, and God knows what else, and also a sleep disorder that makes it hard to operate on a normal schedule.

I really need to get my shit together to qualify for disability because I cannot maintain this for much longer.

Anyway. This level of busy is why I haven't made an update. Thank you so much to everyone who has helped me out - and thank you, @bemusedlybespectacled, for the lil care package. It brightened my day so much and has been incredibly useful.

I'll post a proper update maybe? Tomorrow? If I wake up early enough. I'll have more info then.

[sorryimanon]

A Bit Stir Crazy: Pt 2

(Note: I tried to challenge myself on writing smut. It is not my strongest field, but I had fun writing this. Enjoy.)

Warning: 18+

-

After the embarrassing confrontation the morning of day 16, you found yourself even more on edge. Anything relating to eating, sleeping, and hygiene wasn’t on your mental critia for the rest of the day. Your mind was set on one thing only. Katsuki.

Childish as it is, you didn’t mind lying down in bed daydreaming perfect scenarios of you and Katsuki. Sometimes you’d catch yourself clutching to the nearest pillow , pretending it’s him you’re cuddling . Pathetic. Thank god he didn’t have a telepathy quirk, or else you’d be packing your shit by now. You were in the middle of a good daydream when all of a sudden you hear the painful sound of hardwood being dragged across the floor. It was coming from Bakugous room. Blocking out the sound was impossible, it kept going on for another good 5 minutes. What the hell is the doing in there?

The temptation to yell at him to keep it down was immeasurable, but you were still skittish to show the mere sight of yourself to Katsuki again. For the next hour, you stared blankly at the chipped ceiling, listening to your roommate rearranging the entirety of his small ass room. How could you blame him though? This quarantine has made nearly go ludicrous due to boredem. Some were sadly succumb to becoming stir crazy, which you weren’t denying could possibly be you by now. You also noticed your hormones were more off the rails. Every hour you had the weird inkling to touch yourself. or just once in awhile brush up against the pillow you were holding. You couldn’t help it. No physical or social contact from the outside world for the past 16 days.

Evening struck and you haven’t eaten anything all day. The cereal from this morning made a surprise visit not long ago, causing your appetite to dissipate completely. Although, you did want to get your hands on the left over pizza Katsuki ordered last night. You were about to get up when you heard two loud knocks coming from your door.

“Hey dumbass, don’t think I didn’t notice you not eating all day. I made you some soup since you’re lazy to make something right now.” He sounded agitated, but you knew better that he meant well. “I’ll leave it by the door since I know...you...tch. Just fucking eat. If you don’t I’ll make you okay?”

And with that he left, making it clear for you to hear the door to his room close. You waddle over to the door and open it quickly, scooping up the piping hot bowl of soup. You hate to admit it, Katsuki makes a pretty damn good soup. A little spicy though.

-

Later that night, you laid on your back, toying with the hem of your panties. The muscles in your arms restricting you from going any further. A sick punishment really. You needed some relief, something to get this feral feeling out of your system. Touching yourself wasn’t a foreign feeling. You had a boyfriend to handle the task for you. Note, had a boyfriend. He randomly stopped texting you one day and after that you assumed he didn’t find you attractive anymore. Which sucks because he was great in bed.

Now it’s been almost a year without any form of sexual pleasure from another person. The thought alone made you groan out loud. I am such a fucking loser.

Your fingers itched closer as the minutes ticked by. Just do it, Katsuki should be asleep by now. With a quick glance at your clock, the red numbers 10:30 stared right back. You sighed in relief remembering that Katsuki has been keen on knocking out by 9:00. The sudden burst of confidence caused you to finally plunge your hand into your panties. The feeling of your index finger brushing up against your clit made your whole body shiver. Oh, it definitely has been a year. Making sure there was no evidence of anyone being awake in the next room, you rubbed the very sensitive bud with a slow and teasing motion. You wanted this session to last a while, so you stopped rubbing and dipped your middle finger into the hole. A soft moan escaped your mouth, with which you quickly slapped your mouth with your hand, trying to cover up any lewd noises you might emit.

10 minutes have past and you haven’t climaxed yet. You were starting to get tired of fingering yourself, noticing the warm sensation in your lower stomach has went away. Then, an involuntary image of Katsuki flashed behind your closed eyes. He was there, above you while looking absolutely feral. His eyes were no longer red, but somehow dilated to the point where they were just plain black. You felt the warmness coming back again as you glance down from his eyes to the placement of his hands. The mere sight made you gasp. Katsuki, with his knees proping himself, had his fingers inside of you. No longer were you covering your mouth, each and every whimper or moan left your throat. Katsuki gave you his infamous smirk and began to thrust his fingers faster within you. You couldn’t help but to clench around his fingers, wanting to get as close as possible.

“That’s it baby, come for me.” Katsuki spoke in a sultry tone.

Surprised by him speaking out, your eyes widened to the uncommon nickname.

“You look so fucking cute like this. Taking my fingers like a good girl...so fucking well baby ah fuck!” He continued with his lewd comments. He kept the usual pace while saying sweet nothings in the air.

“Katsuki...nagh...please make me come.” You pleaded softly.

With that, he curled his fingers inside you, causing a long drawn out moan from you. You felt it, then you finally released once he rubbed the tiny bud that desperately needed attention.

“Fuck, Katsuki...” you said breathlessly, eyes drawn to a close in complete euphoria.

Wanting to look back at the man who delivered you to climax, you opened your eyes to see nothing but darkness. Everything was a lucid dream. Katsuki wasn’t actually here to your beckoning call.

Embarrassed, you slipped on a fresh pair of panties and rolled onto bed, knocking out right away due to your recent endeavor.

Behind the wall next door, a lone Katsuki laid awake with his hand wrapped around his qivering member, breathing harshly after climaxing as well with you. He slapped his forehead.

“Fuck.”

-

The following morning, you woke up feeling much better. The constant pang in your lower region was gone, leaving you with an obvious glow. Katsuki noticed too when you strutted into the kitchen, wearing nothing but your big tshirt. His mind went ravage there, thinking about whether or not if you were wearing panties underneath. Considering what he heard last night made him think otherwise.

“Sleep well dumbass?” Katsuki asked as you made yourself a cup of coffee. You didn’t detect how smug he sounded. He was leaning against the island, wearing his usual attire of a tank top and sweat pants.

Thinking nothing of it, you answered his innocent inquiry. “Yeah actually. I haven’t slept that well in ages.” You took a sip of your coffee and leaned against the counter, your body mimicking Katsukis position.

Katsuki raised an eyebrow at that. “Oh really? Some type of remedy I don’t know of that makes you sleep well?” Again, you didn’t notice how tauting his tone was.

“O-Oh um, nothing too complex really. Just a simple uh, breathing excerise I did.” You lied through your teeth.

“Ah that makes sense. No wonder I heard you breathing so hard last night” Katsuki snapped his fingers.

You regretfully spit out your coffee, coating the tiled floor with the sugary brown liquid. Katsuki titled his head innocently at you.

“Something I said?”

“N-No I just forgot I left our clothes in the washer last night. I should probably head downstairs now before some creep steals our stuff!” You spewd a last minute excuse and ran out the door before hearing anything from Katsuki.

“Was definitely something I said.”

-

The laundry mat downstairs was empty. The mornings were usually packed, having either you or bakugou to stand outside the door for an open machine. This time you wish there was people occupying the space.

You had propped yourself on the washing machine, feet dangling a few feet from the floor. He knows what you did last night. He absolutely knows. How stupid of you to not realize his bed was agasint the shared wall. It was agonizingly painful to imagine how Katsuki felt during that haunting hour. He probably threw up to the thought of you touching yourself, specifically to him getting you off. Tears started to threateningly leave your eyes. No matter how many times you tried not to cry during this whole ordeal, a single tear slid down your face. Next thing you knew a whole stream was pouring out both of your eyes. If a person were to come in at this exact moment, they’d think you were a lunatic.

That’s when you heard loud footsteps coming from the entrance of the laundry matt. Deep down you knew who it might be, but you couldn’t muster up the courage to look up. You kept your head down, eyes focusing on your bare feet swaying back and forth. A pair of feet came into view, your knees slightly touching their upper thigh. You lowered your head even more, not wanting to face Katsuki and his judgmental glare.

“Y/N? Look at me,” he demanded.

You shook your head, still keeping it down.

“I said,” he places his finger beneath your chin, raising it to where you were eye level with him. “Look at me.”

You gulped, noticing how angry he looks right now. Is he angry at you touching yourself to him? Or is he mad about something else?

“Listen, I know what you did last night-“

That’s it. You cringed hard at his confession. Nothing mattered right now anymore. Katsuki was just white noise at this point. Dying sounded more appealing than listening to your roomate spiel about how they caught you masturbating. Oh the horror.

“That’s why I think we should please each other for the time while being quarantined together”, he finished.

Wait what.

The look he gave you was unlike any other look you’ve received from him. He was pleading, almost begging, with his eyes. You barely noticed his grasp on your thigh. The grasp grew tighter each second you left him unanswered.

“We both need this. I haven’t had any relief from another person in months...” he admitted while simultaneously rubbing your thigh.

You wanted this more than anything, but you didn’t openly admit that to him. Especially not in an open space like a laundry matt, where someone could walk in at any moment.

“Katsuki...I don’t think we should-“ he caught you by surprise with the sudden impact of his lips. The contact made you both moan into each other’s mouths. The hand that was grasping your thigh earlier soon trailed higher to your inner thigh. His cold hand against your already flushed body was enough to make you climax. When he got courageous enough to place his hand on your waist, you scooted closer to his body, giving him an invitation to step inbetween your legs. He obliged and closed the space between the both of you, using his other hand to cup your cheek. Katsuki grew ansty and bit your lower lip, wanting to gain more access in your mouth. You surrender and let him kiss you tongue first. You closed your eyes in ecstasy, letting him explore your mouth with his expert tongue. Katsuki grabbed your hands and placed them on his head, implying for you to grab a handful of his hair. Once you ran your hands through his blonde locks, his whole entire body tensed up. He quickly detatched his lips from your mouth, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Keep...Keep doing that please.” He whined. You smiled at his approval and continued to rake through his hair.

His whimpers were angelic as you kept tugging on his hair while he kissed you open mouthed.

You both were at it for awhile, making out and touching places that needed attention from the other. When the two of you let go for some air, a string of saliva strewn from both of your mouths. Flustered at the sight, Katsuki licked your bottom lip and gave it a quick peck before lifting your body from the washer. You squeaked loudly due to the aruptness and wrapped your legs around his waist.

The trip back to the apartment wasn’t long. Katsuki was careful not to drop you as he treaded up the stair case. Your apartment door came into view and without hesitation Katsuki kicked it open, breaking the hinges along with it.

“Katsuki! How are we going to pay for that!” You scolded him, playfully hitting his chest.

He chuckled at that and closed what was left of the door with his foot.

“I’m not worried about that right now. Too busy on taking care of you,” he mumbled the last part before attaching his lips to yours again.

Clumsily, the pair of you made it to his bedroom without breaking anything else in the process. Katsuki practically threw you on his bed, your back landing on one of his pillows. He climbed on top of you and observed your whole entire body. Internally you were shaking uncontrollably, but externally you gave the facade that you were completely calm. Katsuki took this as a sign to move his hand under your shirt, still staring at you intently. You felt his fingers inches away from your perched nipple. His hand reached your breast, giving it a good squeeze before pinching it with his fingers. You voluntarily arched your back, wanting him to explore more of your body.

“You like that?” He questioned, still pinching your sensitive nipple.

Answering him by moaning, he used his other hand to trail a line leading up to your inner thigh. He moved up and down slowly in a teasing pace, careful not to touch your heat yet. He replaced his digits with his thumb to rub your nipple in place. His smirk grew wider seeing you squirm beneath his touch. Deep down he always wanted to see you like this. Flustered to the core and whimpering to his subtle touch. He couldn’t wait to see you screaming out in pleasure. He wanted nothing more than to hear you call out his name in pure ecstasy.

As much as you wanted Katsuki to worship your body, the desire for him to fill you was more important.

“Kasu-...Katsuki, please.” You urged on, bucking your hips to meet his.

“Please what dumbass? Hm? Use your words,” he traced the outline of your lips carefully, opening your mouth wider.

“I need you inside me. I want to feel you...” you pathetically begged out him to.

Katsuki saw the desperation in your body language and voice. Swiftly, he pulled your panties down to your ankles, letting you move them aside to the floor. The wetness from your heat was slowly dripping down your thighs. Prepped and ready for whatever Katsuki has in store for you. Your cunt throbbed painfully from the anticipation of his next move. 

“You want me now baby?” He seductively said, earning an earnest groan from you as a reply. He kept himself busy by pumping his member through his sweats. His eyes never left you as he thrusted aggressively, smiling during the process when you kept glancing at his actions below. “I can’t wait...to know how you feel...ngh...I bet you feel incredible wrapped around my cock”. A blush creeped its way to your cheeks. His crude comments are getting dirtier, and you low-key didn’t want him to stop speaking his mind. 

Never in a million years would you have ever thought of doing something this intimate with Katsuki. If you were to tell yourself, a little first UA student, that you and Katsuki Bakugou had sex, you’d never believe it. Even at this moment, you still couldn't comprehend this was happening. You broke out of your thoughts when you felt the tip of something hovering at your entrance. During your daze, Katsuki managed to get his fully erect member from the tight hold of his boxers and lined it perfectly at your aching hole. He nudges your hole a few times before rubbing against your clit. A fulfilling moan left your throat as he kept going with the tedious motion. You elavated your hips a little in hopes for his tip to enter. Katsuki growled at your impatient state and grounded your hips with hands. You whimpered at the harshness of his grip.

“Keep doing that idiot and I just might make you fuck yourself instead,” he lowered his head to your neck and started sucking on the sensitive area. “You’re lucky I'm going to go easy on you dumbass or else you’ll be begging for me to stop. So, just let me know and I’ll stop”.

Even when he’s about to go feral in your insides, he was still considerate of your feelings, which made your heart beat go bezerk. Thankfully he stopped kissing your neck and dropped his full attention to his cock. You mentally sighed to yourself once you felt his tip circle around your lips. The swelling sensation down below was becoming unbearable to the constant teasing. You couldn’t hold it in any longer, so you wrapped your hands around his torso and purposely shoved him forward. Both of you let out a choked moan once his cock finally entered you. Your walls instinctively clamped tightly around him, feeling the warm flesh inside of you. The action you did elicited a loud whine from Katskui, who was currently shoving his face into the crevice of your neck, shaking from entering your tight walls so abruptly. 

“Do I...Do I feel good Katsuki?” you asked, shifting uncomfortably to his stiffness. 

He lifted his head from his previous position and grinned from ear to ear. “You feel fucking amazing baby.” He wasted no time to move his hips to sheathe his cock deeper inside you. It didn’t hurt due to you being so aroused and wet. He then started to continuously thrust at a slow pace, making sure you were adjusting to his size. Mouth wide open, you threw your head onto his pillows while clutching the bedsheets. 

“Ugh, Katsuki. Please go faster,” you winced at how needy you sounded, but you wanted the relief right away. 

Katsuki listened to your command and thrashed himself more into your hole. Sounds of skin slapping on skin and sporadic moans filled the small room. You felt his cock twitch inside you, indicating that he was indeed close. He continued thrusting at a fast pace, occasionally reaching down to rub your clit. Without a doubt, he was hitting your g-spot repeatedly, never once missing it. To feel even more closer to you, Katsuki pushed your legs further towards you, allowing him a better angle to thrust deeper. 

“Fuck Y/N...I bet he never fucked you like this. He probably never had you making those cute faces you’re pulling right now, ngh...” he panted between thrusts. “I hated the thought of you being fucked by someone other than me. All the guys you’ve dated are nothing compared to me. I want you all to myself.”

The knot inside your cunt started pulsing by him mentioning his hatred toward your past partners. You screamed when he clamped his sharp teeth down onto your shoulder. For a spilt second, you thought you felt the trickle of your own blood. Next thing you knew, Katsuki’s thrusts became sloppier, indicating he’s on the verge of climaxing. 

“God yes Katsuki, please come. Come with me baby!” you cry out.

You being so oblivious, you don’t know how much your voice turns him on. So when you egged him on to come with him, that’s exactly what he did. With one last thrust, both you and Katsuki attach your lips together, moaning out your orgasms into each others mouths. He successfully fills your heat with his seed and freezes in place. He detaches his lips from yours and stares at your dripping core. He had to restrict himself to not shove his cock into you again. After composing himself, Katsuki released himself from you and rolled over onto his side, propping his elbow to get a good view of you. You still recovering from your orgasm. You were gasping for more air, trying to compose yourself. 

“Ya know...maybe you could use your energy restoration quirk on me for a round two?” he humorously suggested.

You shifted yourself into a comfortable position on his lap and jabbed a finger under his chin. “Only if this round involves me riding you.” 

Katsuki then pushed you roughly on your back again. His eyes were more dilated this time than during your previous intimate moment together. He leaned down and kissed you gently on the lips.

“I like that idea better don’t cha think, idiot.”

-

Everything after that event changed the course for both you and Katsuki. The mood and tension from before disappeared. Now the two of you couldn't keep your hands off each other. You caught yourself sleeping more in Katsuki’s bed than your own. What was the point of being separated if you two were practically having sex every day? Every hour, minute, and second. It didn’t bother you though. You’d rather jump his bones than read another boring book again. 

On day 30 of quarantine, you woke up naked in Katsuki’s arms. You stretched your arms and legs, popping them in the process. Katsuki grunted and pulled you closer to his body. You smiled into the crook of his neck and returned the favor by kissing him on the nose. He scrunched his face, obviously not favoring the random spot you pecked him at. 

The night before you two were going at it till 3 am. Not taking breaks for anything whatsoever. It was evident from the display of your clothes strewn everywhere. 

You relaxed more into his arms, but your heart stopped once you heard the front door opening. Katsuki was still passed out, oblivious to the disturbance inside your apartment. Your ears picked up footsteps padding their way towards Katsuki’s door. The door knob twisted ominously. Whoever was behind the door was surely taking their sweet time. Before you knew it, the door swung open revealing the last person you wanted see. There stood Kirishima, mouth agape seeing you in the same bed as Katsuki. He blinked a couple of times before raising a weak finger in your direction. 

“I guess I wasn’t the only one who got laid during this pandemic!” Kirishima bursted into laughter.

Katsuki unwrapped his arms around you and grabbed the nearest pillow, using his quirk to explode it right at Kiri’s face. The impact ricchoeted him out the threshold of the door, a loud crash coming along with him. 

“EVER HEARD OF KNOCKING FIRST SHITTY HAIR!” he yelled, small sparks ejecting from his hands.

You contently sigh. Maybe this whole quarantine thing wasn’t so bad after all. 

[enbysiriusblack]

I keep posting non marauder content and I apologise (no i dont, you just have to deal with it)

BUT HERE GO, THE CONTENT YOU ACTUALLY WANT FROM ME (probably)

A lil Jily story of angst and fluff kind of:

(its not lil,, its pretty darn long)

tw. brief physical violence and stalking

Lily hated the summer holidays. Her sister always complaining about her return, her parents struggle with keeping Petunia calm while still spending time with Lily, and Severus' change of character once they were back in the muggle town.

But this summer, she had more to worry about. Severus still hadn't left her alone after their fall out. He had started waiting for her in the library, following her in between classes, and and watching her hanging out with her friends at Hogsmeade.

And now without her friends and the separate common rooms in the way, it would be even harder to avoid him and she was worried for her own safety.

So as she stepped off the train, said goodbye to her friends and walked towards her family. She was miserable.

And as the days of summer ticked by, Lily had locked herself in her bedroom. Not wanting to go downstairs in order to avoid the endless arguments and shouting of Petunia, and not wanting to go outside to avoid Severus stalking her and pleading with her to forgive him.

But after a few weeks, her parents urged her to get some sunlight and got her to go to the shop round the corner to grab a few things.

Carrying 2 bags, filled with milk, bread, toilet roll, laundry detergent, the daily newspaper, and a litre bottle of fanta; Lily left the shop. Only to spot Severus a few feet away, and hurriedly following her.

She started walking faster towards her house, but only a few metres a way from home, a hand sharply attached itself to her shoulder.

"Lily!! I'm trying to talk to you!!" He yelled.

Lily shook her shoulder, flinging his hand off it and back to his person.

"I've told you a million times!! Leave me alone!!" She yelled back.

"But I'm in love with you" he said, stepping forwards and about to touch her cheek.

She took a step back and scoffed, "you can't love someone while hating who they are"

"It's not your fault who you're born as, it doesn't matter to me. It's like a curse being put on you, but you can still overcome it. The dark Lord himself is a half blood like me! But we know we're better than that, we just have to overcome that set back." He replied, stepping closer and closer to Lily.

A loud crack sounded and blood ran down Snape's nose. He lifted a hand to his face and felt the blood pouring out. Her grocery bags fell to the floor.

"Being muggleborn is not a setback to overcome. Don't ever come near me again" she replied, before picking up her bags and heading back to her house without looking back once more.

.

The next morning, she looked out her window to see Snape standing outside, holding a bouquet of lilies.

She shut her blinds and hid in her room. As the days ticked by, she never left the house and Snape stood there hour after hour, bringing different assortments of gifts to compensate his inability to actually care about her.

She decided she had to leave for the rest of the holiday. But Mary was visiting family outside the country, Marlene and Dorcas were in Italy together to celebrate their anniversary. Then she remembered Remus was at home.

She owled Remus straight away and got a reply from him fairly quickly, accepting her request of staying at his till the holidays had ended.

So the next morning she packed her things, said goodbye to her mum, and drove with her dad to the train station around 7 am, before Snape arrived at the house.

It was a long, confusing train journey to Wales. But once she got there after hours on different trains, she spotted Remus and his mum sitting outside one of the station cafes.

Remus looked up as she walked towards them, and he moved over a piece of chocolate cake and his cup of tea to make more room for her on the small metal table.

Lily grabbed a seat from an empty table nearby and sat it down. Hope passed a menu over to Lily and she ordered a cup of tea and a a hot sausage roll. The three of them ate and drank before getting to Hope's yellow volkswagen van to get back to the Lupin cottage.

Once they got to the cottage, Hope showed Lily around the house and brought her stuff to Remus' bedroom.

"We don't have any spare rooms I'm afraid so I hope you don't mind sharing with Remus?" Hope asked her.

"No it's fine thank you" she replied.

"Alright, oh also I need to get some more herbs and plants for my stocks so I was going to go foraging tomorrow, would you two like to join me?"

Remus looked towards Lily to see her thoughts, she nodded at him in acceptance.

"Yeah we would" Remus said.

Hope lifted her hand to affectionately stroke Remus' curls before leaving the room.

.

The next day the Lupin's and Lily set out to the forest, Lyall deciding to join them as it was his day off work. All four were carrying small handmade baskets, Lyalls was full of picnic food for lunchtime, while the other's were empty for foraging.

Remus and Lily went ahead in a different direction, agreeing to meet up at the usual spot at lunch time.

As Remus and Lily went through the woods, Remus sometimes picking up certain plants and flowers and putting them in his basket, while Lily (not knowing much about foraging or what Hope needed) only picked flowers she liked and had decided to make a nice bouquet for Hope with them.

The two chatted as they walked, talking about what topics they're studying in their classes next year, about Snape, about their what they had been up to for the last few weeks.

Once they got back to the house, Remus started writing a letter to James and Sirius, who had run away to James' a few weeks ago. While Lily and Hope were downstairs talking, after Lily had given her the bouquet.

Around an hour later, all four were sitting on the lounge for dinner, the bouquet was placed on the middle of the wooden table as a centre piece inside a tall mug with a picture of Phil Bennett on.

After dinner, Lily and Remus went out. There wasn't much to do in the small village in the evening so they ended up in the middle of someone's field. The two sat on the hill for a few hours, stargazing and mindlessly talking about whatever came to mind.

The days went by, with Lily staying at Remus' place. The duo found themselves spending most of their time in a small bookshop cafe and walking through the woods, Remus smoking his weed and Lily sometimes Lily would take a hit but she wasn't as fond of it as Remus was.

With only a week and a half till school started again, Remus and Lily planned to go to hogsmeade together tomorrow.

But midday, two figures appeared walking towards the Lupin cottage just as Remus and Lily got back from their walk in the woods.

As the got closer to the two, they saw it was James and Sirius.

Remus dropped his joint to the floor and ran to the two standing by the door to his home.

He wrapped his arms around Sirius, but felt them freeze up at the touch. So Remus moved to stop the hug, but at that withdrawal, Sirius wrapped his own arms around Remus tightly with no sign of letting go.

The two stood there for a few minutes, wrapped in an embrace while Lily and James stood awkwardly nearby them.

"... hi" James said, waving at Lily, but since they were near each other, Lily had to move backwards to avoid getting hit by his hand.

James quickly withdrew his hand, and stepped back. He looked down at his hand for a few seconds, before bringing it up again and saluting Lily.

As he was half way through saluting her, he realised what he was doing and quickly brought it straight down to his side, and froze at Lily with unblinking eyes like a deer stuck in headlights.

She started laughing, affectively ending the hug between Remus and Sirius, who turned to look between Lily and James.

At that moment, Hope came inside, calling Lily for something and waved in greeting to James and Sirius.

After Lily had walked into the house, James grinned widely.

"She laughed at me!! She thinks I'm funny!"

"She was laughing AT you, cause she thinks you're a wanker" Remus corrected.

Sirius grinned slightly at the retort and grabbed Remus' hand.

Remus looked to Sirius and James realised Sirius would talk to Remus and Remus could help Sirius, even just slightly.

"I'll go see if Hope needs some more help" James said before turning to the cottage and giving Remus and Sirius some time alone.

Inside the cottage, James and Lily were setting up cutlery around the table and helping Hope with the dinner.

James noticed the flowers in the mug, "wow, these look really nice Hope, my mum keeps trying to make some nice flower arrangements for around the house but she's not very good at it. I made this red and gold one, go gryffindor!! for her birthday a few weeks ago but it was no where near as good as this one!!"

Hope came out of the kitchen carrying a saucepan of curry.

"Oh no honey, I didn't make that, that was all thanks to Lily" she said coming round the table and softly touching Lily's arm in gratitude.

"Oh" James said, freezing again as he stared back at Lily. "Its.. um.. its really good.. I like the uhh,, its good."

Lily raised an eyebrow at him, "thank you?"

James nodded, and tapped the table, trying to think of something else to say.

His eyes glanced over the the window, spotting Remus and Sirius sitting on the edge of the woods on a small bench, still talking and holding each others hand.

"I should probably go get them for dinner" he said, about to get out of his seat.

Hope waved her hand absentmindedly, "oh leave them its fine, the lovebirds can eat later"

A few minutes later, Lyall came back from work and sat at the table with them.

The four ate in fairly comfortable silence, sometimes having small conversations.

.

The next day they went to Hogsmeade.

Sirius waringly looking out for any of their family members as they walked around doing their shopping. Remus stood by xyr side the whole time, with James and Lily awkwardly leading the group together.

Peter found them a few hours later, he was shopping with zir mum but stayed with his friends for a while.

In Flourish and Blotts, Sirius and Remus seemed to have disappeared together in a fiction section, bonding over their mutual love of books packed with monsters and adventures and swordsmen.

Lily gazed at books on the shelf closest to her, sometimes bringing one up to her eye line and reading the blurb before putting it back on the shelf again.

James stood there with Peter, who he was very glad of, Peter acting as a distraction of the awkward silence between Lily and James.

So as Peter rambled about how he's so glad ze doesn't have to do potions anymore, James took his mind of trying to impress Lily and put his focus on listening to Peter.

However in the next moment, Peter made a very tactical decision of engaging Lily into the conversation.

"So Lily, I'm guessing you're still taking Potions this year?" Peter asked.

Lily turned around, one hand still lightly touching one of the books on the shelf.

"Yeah, but it sucks that none of my friends are taking it. I tried to get Remus to change his mind and take it for weeks.. and then he blew up half the kitchen trying to make pasta sauce and realised my efforts were futile."

James laughed, "thats Remus, alright"

Lily looked over at him, contemplating. Before nodding her head and smiling slightly as she turned back to the bookshelf.

After around five minutes, Peter chiped up.

"Oh!! James is taking Potions still aren't you? You said you're dad really wanted you to get a Potion Newt. You two can hang out in class"

James sent Peter a 'what the hell' glare before Lily nodded again and clearly said the words,

"I guess we could, its better than the chance of getting stuck with Sev- Snape for the rest of the year... are you any good?"

James froze, "um.. yeah, yeah.. well no, not really to be honest"

Lily smiled again, "thats fine, I'm hood enough for the both of us"

She took a book off the shelf and kept it in her arms for the first time. And then walked back to James and Peter.

"If I'm helping you in Potions though, you've gotta help me with transfiguration."

She lifted up the book in her arms to show the cover, the transfiguration book they needed this year.

"I skimmed this a little, and it barely made any sense at all."

James lifted a hand to his hair, ruffling it up on a nervous habit.

"Minnie gave me a group of younger years to tutor last year, maybe you could come to those? .. not that I think you're as dumb as first and second years, far from it, you're one of the smartest people I know. But I just mean that a lot of our topics this year our ones that we did in first and second year but with more context and more advanced. So I thought that if you revised the basics then the more advanced parts would make more sense to you.. if you wanted?"

"Yeah that sounds great" she said, before moving to another bookshelf and flicking through it.

The rest of the day, the two of them talked and talked. And back at Remus' cottage Lily walked up to him before he had to leave with Sirius.

"Today was fun, friends?" She asked.

James nodded, "friends"

As him and Sirius left, Sirius hit his shoulder.

"What were you and Lily talking about? Declaring your undying love for her?"

James shook his head, "We're just friends, I need to just... move on i guess, friends is as best as it'll get. And its enough for me."

[fishmongeringstudies]

the year i turned twenty i stopped waiting for someone to save my life and started eating more vegetables

in the winter of 2018 i got a root canal done on the molar in the upper left-hand corner of my mouth. it had been on the verge of death for a while now; two years prior to that a visiting government-sponsored school dentist had taken a look at it, frowned, and then spent the next two hours wheedling all the rot out of that tiny black hole with a drill. unfortunately the solution he imposed was both extremely painful and temporary, and so two years after the initial incident i found myself once again at the dentist's (this time at a clinic; school dentists don't like to deal with the extra-gritty stuff and are not paid enough to do so). they stuck a needle in my gum, numbed three-quarters of my mouth, then drilled a hole through the center of my tooth and ripped the withering shred of nerve-tissue right out of it.

my dentist helpfully explained all of the above to me during our consultation session in the same office in which he would rip the top half of my tooth off a week later. he was a balding, smiling man whose speech did not, unlike many medical professionals i had met over the years, have an edge of condescension to it. i liked him. i would have liked him more were he not planning to essentially castrated my tooth.

several weeks later i went to another dentist who specialized in helping people in post-root canal limbo, and she stuck a shiny metal crown on what was left of my molar. we then scheduled a series of check-ups to ensure that the crown had not flown off its liege while i attacked an ice cube or something similarly bad for my teeth and mental health, which stretched on for so long that she became, more or less, my primary dental care physician. at first the check-ups were a month apart. then two. time passed. her hair grew longer and our conversations less awkward; she was beautiful and snarky and looked like she would shoot god without hesitation if he stepped into range of her gun. she wore her hair short, red tinged with gold, in a pixie-cut that fell over half of one eye. for a while i thought i was in love with her.

'do you floss?' she asked me on my second check-up.

'no,' i said.

'well.' she broke off a length of dental floss and began to wind it around her fingers. it looked like a death threat and she looked ready to kill, though her eyes were smiling. 'you should.'

for the first year after having an utterly destroyed tooth brought back from the brink of death via a grisly temporary solution that would, at best, buy me one or two decades of peace, i didn't. i didn't floss because when she did it for me in her tiny examination room my gums bled so much it took hours for me to wash the bitter taste of iron out of my mouth. blood is a nice concept and a nicer motif in writing. but it smells awful, and it's worst on the tongue. so i didn't floss my teeth, and i went through life with the kind of casual detached disinterest with which i had approached most things up until then. at my next check-up she asked once again if i had been flossing and i lied that i had. after poking and prodding around in my mouth for a few minutes and taking a scan for good measure she gave me a look and said dryly, 'you haven't been flossing at all, have you.'

disappointing your parents, your favorite high school english teacher, or even your best friend is nothing compared to the sheer embarrassment that comes from knowing your beautiful dentist asked you to do the bare minimum, and you failed to deliver. her voice was arid but we had known each other for long enough by then for me to detect a thin undercurrent of disappointment. i had done it. i had lost the support of the only person in my life who could be counted on to support me. because i paid her for her services. and she was also very funny in a quiet sarcastic way. and she was beautiful.

having had my ego wounded beyond description i resolved to floss from then on and succeeded in dragging my poor aching gums past the bleeding stage to a point where they were merely post-workout sore. then i lost interest and forgot about the white, sterile-smelling clinic that was a fifteen minutes' drive from my house and the little pack of dental floss on the bathroom counter faded into obscurity. two weeks before my next appointment in 2020, an alarm on my phone went off to inform me of the approaching day of judgment. i panicked.

'have you been flossing?' my dentist asked as i lay back in the faded green chair and she put on a pair of new gloves.

'yeah,' i said.

five minutes later, she removed her army of dentistry equipment from my mouth with a satisfied hum. 'i see that you have.' her eyes were smiling. 'your teeth look fine. i'll just clean them a little for you.'

i celebrated impressing my favorite dentistry professional in singapore by forgetting to floss for the next two months. soon after that i got on a plane to america, and then two more for good measure in case i hadn't grown sick of sitting and burning in my own skin already, and then twelve weeks of insanity ensued, the details of which we are surely all acquainted with by now. late nights, walks in the forest, afternoons spent in the sun. mismatched footsteps and strange acquaintances. an elaborate circus act staffed entirely by misguided but well-meaning teenagers. a ring of fire.

two weeks ago i bought a box of dental floss for ninety-nine cents. i think this might be what the anthropologists call 'adulthood'. i was at target with a friend and we were getting toothpaste, which we had both nearly run out of, when i saw the little flat box of dental floss hanging from a hook on the wall. my teeth weren't particularly disgusting (they haven't been, not since i learned how to brush them properly), but they weren't beautiful. it had been a while since i had been on my own mind. for the last three months, others' pain had been my main priority, and now that we had eliminated most of them from the picture, i found myself with more time in the mornings to stare at myself in the mirror and wonder how, exactly, i was doing.

how are you doing? i asked. and the answer was i felt like shit.

while i've stayed in dormitories before for extended periods of time i always got out of doing laundry by either submitting my dirty clothes to an on-campus service which disappeared them into a hole in the fabric of reality and returned them to you a day later, cleaned and folded outside your room so the first time i did laundry by myself in america, a week after arriving on campus, i felt invincible. buying an iced chai from the cafe on a thursday morning and then settling down to work on my laptop until my first class started at noon, i felt like a character in a career advisory ad, like someone who knew where they were going and how they were going to get there. standing in front of the bathroom mirror of my summer dorm, winding a strand of dental floss around my fingers, i felt like i had aged fifteen years in the span of just one, and that just this once, it was for the better.

according to my adult friends, no one ever fully feels or recognizes that they are an adult. adulthood is an ideal that all grown children strive towards the way body-builders aim for more and more muscle mass until there's nothing left of them but a pair of well-toned biceps. there are several industry-approved ways to be an adult, but there are no suggested ways to feel like one. this is part of the gaping maw of inadequacy our generation has fallen into. this afternoon i melted butter in a pan and beat two eggs, milk, salt, and garlic powder together in a bowl. pouring the egg mixture into the pan i began to scrape the edges frantically towards the center with a spatula. the whole process took no longer than two or three minutes. by the end of it my hand was shaking.

according to my adult friends you just wake up one day and start looking for ways to re-organize your pantry and that's when you realize: i'm getting old, aren't i? and i'm getting old, aren't i? twenty's just the start of what a friend recently told me her parents refer to as 'the decade of pain'. but the beginning of something is included in the timeline of its accomplishments, too, and it takes more blind faith to start something than we give ourselves credit for. i have never used a saucepan up until today. in my younger years i often boiled broccoli or cauliflower in a small pot over an electric stove. but the butter, the eggs, the smell of fat sizzling on a pan- this is new to me. this entire life is new to me.

leaving the familiar warmth of your family home, it suddenly occurs to you how fragile life is. how everything your mother has done for you until now has kept you on the path forward, and now you have been given the keys to the basement you have to remember to buy laundry detergent before you run out. it all comes together like this: the humming laundry machines, the hand towels, the fridge full of fruit and cheese. it keeps you alive.

and it's awful. our generation doesn't know what self-care is because we're too busy trying to care for a world which tries, time and again, to kick us off the carousel of life and move on without its ephemeral teenage charges. we are bad at this 'living' thing because we often forget that we are alive at all. look out the window and the world's burning. look into the kitchen, and- quiet. this past year has done nothing to improve the paintings on the wall. we've all known hopelessness. we've all known what it's like to wake up and feel nothing at all.

and yet my flatmate has a new york times cooking subscription that she says we're welcome to borrow if we want to look up a recipe for something like paella, brownies, whatever. the other day she made shrimp scampi and when she knocked on my door and said 'i made food, if you'd like some' i remember thinking living with other people was worth it if you could sit around a table and twirl pasta noodles around your fork in silence. tomorrow i think i'll go to target again and see if i can find more acai. i miss it. i miss singapore's overpriced acai places and their stupid too-high chairs.

and i am living life clumsily, but who cares? a life is a life; all you have to do is live it. the rest can come later, after the dust has settled on the windowsill.

06.09.21

[dismuch47]

STARTING POINT

Length: Longer than a drabble, but a one shot with no intention of continuing.

Marvel AU in which Vision (I’m calling him Paul) is the illegitimate child of Howard Stark. There are tensions between half-brothers, and this is the first time that they actually talk about something other than the strange family situation. And it happens to be about... a girl. I hope you enjoy.

This has been moved over from my deactivated blog, so no, this is not stolen if you recognize it.

“’Sup, nerd?” Tony let the door slam itself shut after flinging it open in a grand flourish. He flung his bag of dirty laundry on the mahogany dining table, let his leather jacket fall to the immaculately clean floor in a heap, and then trotted over to the kitchen fridge to excavate.

Paul shifted out of his cross-legged, curved shoulder posture (his studying posture) and sat up in a rigid manner. He placed his book on the cushion beside him, his lips in a thin line.

“Hilarious...considering your field of study in Quantum Mechanics and Theory, Anthony.” Paul called out for the other youth to hear. It wasn’t in his nature to give jabs to other people... but ever since Mr. Stark... or rather Paul’s biological father... had acknowledged the existence of a bastard son in England and the illegitimate child had been included into the multi-billionaire’s home at Mrs. Stark’s request... Paul had tried to rise to the challenge in order to “bond” with the golden son, Tony Stark. Apparently he only responded to sarcasm, rather than sincere attempts of friendship that Paul preferred.

Tony peeked his face from around the kitchen door, tilting the aviator sunglasses down from his face. “I study it, I don’t wear it. What is that, an argyle sweater vest?” His face disappeared once more as he grabbed one of his father’s choice beers from the fridge, closing the door shut with his hip.

“Mrs. Stark likes it...” Paul looked down placing a hand on the sweater vest. He didn’t dislike it... but he didn’t care for it. But anything was better then the second-hand clothing that was always too small for him back at the London shelter. And if it helped the mistress of this home approve of a bastard child more...

“Your mother will disapprove if she sees that rubbish on the dining table.” Paul warned his older half brother. He picked up his thick book and began reading again. “Why you insist on bringing that home when you can just-”

“Carmen. CARMEN will ‘disapprove’. I don’t think mother has done laundry or set a dinning table since her college days...” He slumped down in a white wing-backed chair across from the couch, separated by a glass coffee table. “Besides it’s all apart of the collegiate experience: announcing my arrival home with proof of my hard work and stank of my sheer brilliance.”

“Anthony, your father-”

“For the last time, it’s TONY.” He took off his sunglasses, his dark eyes like daggers at this blonde intruder of his home. He didn’t dislike Paul... he disliked how different Paul looked, sounded, and talked... forever reminding everyone in the household of his father’s infidelity. Of his mother’s pain... and tragic kindness for wanting this person to be part of the Stark family. The dark moment passed and Tony tossed his glasses carelessly to the glass table.

“...And dad can just deal with the mess.”

Paul’s blue eyes were cast downward, trying to resume his reading... recognizing the subtext of that wording, but Tony turned on the television to an outrageous volume, swallowed and sighed loudly over his beer.

“Tony-”

“Little brother, PLEASE.” Tony cut in. “Your bro is nursing a hangover at the moment.” He took another swig of beer. “Do you mind?”

There was no warmth in the word ‘brother’; it seemed more like a reminder that Paul was an outsider that Tony had to put up with. The lanky teenager began to slowly pack up his schoolwork, not feeling particularly welcome in the space...

Tony blinked darkly at the screen; images and colors barely managing to distract him from his mood... and guilt. He was mad at his father... not the accidental child resulting from unprotected sex. His brown eyes darted over to Paul, who was quietly collecting his things to leave.

“What are you reading?” Tony asked, monotone.

Paul blinked in surprise, then looked down at the book in his hand. “A Tale of Two Cities.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “This is why you are a nerd...”

“It is a school requirement.”

“Is it your first time reading it?” Tony raised a dark brow. “Or is it your 3rd or 4th time?”

Paul shut his mouth. It was his 5th. He couldn’t explain how it was that he was able to read so fast, or find a book so compelling upon a 5th or 6th reading. He traced his long fingers across the dog-eared pages.

“At the shelter, all I had was books. I...I like to revisit them...” He couldn’t meet the Stark’s brown eyes. “Like how Mrs. Stark likes to watch old movies over and over...she says they are ‘old friends’ that never change, but grow more enriching with each viewing.”

Tony looked down at the beer in his hand. That did sound like something his mother would say. He recalled her telling that to him. He also felt super awesome for reminding Paul about his life of poverty... which was still fresh. Tony turned off the tv.

“Fine. Books are the exception.” He finally looked over at Paul. “But you have GOT to get out of that gaming stuff if you ever want to get laid, Goggles.”

“Vision.”Paul corrected, a little too hastily. His hands held on to the book a little tighter. “It is live action role-play-”

“Oh my god, I can’t tell you how much I don’t care-”

“-And it is very therapeutic. It helps me get out the frustrations of being in a new home environment, learning American customs... feeling so different. According to Dr. Cho.” Paul defended, blossoming as he talked about this passion of his. “Vision is not just a character... he is an extension of my subconscious; trying to sort out and deal with my very average conflicts.”

“Yeah, that’s the ah...mutant...god... robot thing?” Tony asked, with a belch. Pretending to care was starting to give him a headache.

“Synthezoid.” Paul added.

“Right... with the magical jewel stone for... ultimate power?” Tony yawned

“Mind Stone.” Paul began realizing how stupid this all sounded. Tony had been present at the therapy session when Dr. Cho had explained how this experimental role play with peers might be good for Paul.

“Fascinating. I think I need to go whiz now.” Tony got up from his chair, setting the empty beer bottle, with out a coaster, on the glass table. “Well have fun with that sausage fest.”

“There are girls.” Paul blurted. “...A girl... there is one girl who does it too.”

Tony backed up, a bemused expression at Paul’s outburst. “I’m sure she’s a looker... geeking it up with the oily skinned, pimple-marked-”

“She is beautiful.” Paul’s tone took Tony aback; it sounded stoney firm and  indisputable. And Tony couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit emasculated with his younger half brother now towering above him.

“Prove it.” Tony beckoned.

Paul narrowed his eyes down Tony Stark, feeling it trivial to prove his truth... as if his best friend was some prized stock animal to be appraised. Tony didn’t deserve to gaze upon real beauty... but Paul was a teenage boy. And he wanted to make this college tech jock drool.

He sat down, pulling out his phone and searching for a picture of her. Tony plopped down beside him and yanked the phone out of his younger half-brother’s hands. Paul protested, reaching with his long arms, but Tony was athletic and broad. He put Paul in a headlock after a brief struggle, and scrolled through the pictures on the flip phone.

Tony gave a sigh at all the larp pictures... they were in COSTUMES. “Is that face paint? Really, Vision??? Oh my god, you are going to die a virgin...” Then he came across a larper who was entirely too hot to be hanging out with such nerds. “Whoa... whoooaaaa. Is that her?” Tony showed the screen to Paul, who was still gasping for air before pulling out of Tony’s lessening grasp.

“...Yes...” Paul tried to push his hair back into place.

“Name?”

“Scarlet Witch-”

“Her real name, idiot.”

“Wanda. Wanda Maximoff.”

“Russian? Like Natasha... oh what’s her name. You know, she’s a senior this year...”

“Wanda is from Sokovia.”

“Same difference.” Tony shrugged.

“Actually-”

“Which means she probably has one of those dusky european accents.” Tony stood up, looking at more pictures. “Please tell me she has a dusky accent.”

“...Yes.”

“Oh god.” Tony looked at the screen for a beat. “You’re sure she’s only in high school?”

Paul firmly took his phone back.

“Fine... too young for me. And way out of your league.”

Paul looked down at the screen. He knew that was true, but it didn’t hurt less to hear someone say it. “She is just a friend. My only friend.” He held on to the phone for a beat, then closed it. He returned it to his pocket and picked up his book that he had discarded on the table. His shoulders sagged, and the words on the page were blurring together. Completely unreadable.

Tony damned himself when he saw the effect that his teasing had on Paul. The oh so sensitive, yet robotic Paul. “Okay. I’m taking this away.” He took the book out of his half-brother’s hands and sat on the glass table, directly across from the tall teen. “You’re tall, you have a pensively sweet British accent, and some girls like the peach-fuzz stubble look. You just need to stop slouching, and you’d be any girl’s dream boat.”

Paul looked up. “You have said that I’m oafish, awkward, and that my dialect is ‘annoying as hell’.”

“I lied. It’s hard to compete with. I cut you down to make myself feel bigger. Thank you Dr. Cho.” That didn’t seem to make Paul feel better; he seemed to slump even more in his seat, eyes downcast at the floor. “What... what is this? I basically called you pretty and you're being a pooper. What’s  the problem?”

The blonde teen took a deep breath. “Steve Rogers.”

Tony blinked. “The star quarterback? The ruggedly handsome boy next door, class president, and so patriotic that he’s Captain America at all the Sunday Picnics? Sky-blue eyed, chiseled Adonis-bodied Steve Rogers? That Steve Rogers??”

Paul clenched his jaw and looked up at Tony.

“Oh man... good luck with that.” The Stark son gave Paul a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

Paul leaned back into the sofa, feeling defeated. He looked up at the ornate crown molding on the ceiling. “She does not talk about him all the time... but she stares at him constantly. She wants to take our roleplaying sessions out by the football field just so he can see her in her costume. She has even invited him to one... and he came. She only stayed by my side because she was too nervous to be alone with him. He smiles at her and I just... I...”

“Wait... so they haven’t hooked up?”

“...I do not believe so.”

“Has he told her he even likes her?”

“Yes... well... he told the group that he likes us and what we do. He’s actually really nice and great in battle, which is an absolute annoyance...”

Tony rolled his eyes. “And have you told her? How you feel about her?”

Paul looked down at Tony. He opened his mouth but closed it. He looked away, trying to find anything else to focus on, but Tony drumming his fingers against the glass table drew his attention.

“If I told her how I felt... and she did not feel the same...”

“Well Vision,” Tony said standing up with a stretch. “Don’t you at least agree it’s a good starting point?” He made his way to the kitchen to throw away his empty bottle.

Paul sat, thinking about all the scenarios in which he could get rejected by Miss Maximoff. But there was one hopeful scenario in which she, in her usual tender way, is caught off-guard. Her eyes would warm and a broad smile would light him on fire inside...as it always did.

“Perhaps.”

[parfaitkiwi]

Cheeky Crack Fic - “Looks Like It Is Your Problem”

A/N: The delightfully talented @stroblitz had an art stream today where they created our beloved Boris wearing tights and a skirt. During the stream I couldn’t help but notice that he kind of looked like Emily, and the chat got thinking about what would happen if were the case that he was in fact wearing Emily’s clothes...and so...here we are....crack fic incoming.

Additional Notes- I use original names here, with the exception of Tala, who...I can’t seem to call anything other than Tala. Also, there’s occasional strong language to follow. It is Boris, after all. 

“No, no, no....you look really great, Borya, for real.” 

Boris pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long breath. 

This. 

Out of all the things that they could have gotten him with over the years, it had to be this. 

Boris stood in front of the full length mirror on the back of the Neoborg hotel room door, looking at himself, but not fully recognizing that it was him. 

Sure, it looked like something he could wear.

It was red. It had snippy remark. It looked....not....the worst on him? But it definitely wasn’t his. 

It was too tight, too short, and smelled too nice to belong to the very scary, very intimidating Boris Kuznetsov.

This was all her fault.

This was all Emily freaking York’s fault. 

Of course she had scooted into the hotel laundry room at the same time as him.

Of course she had shoved her clothes into the dryer next to his, ignoring the other three machines. 

Of course.

And of course....Boris hadn’t paid attention to which machine he had taken his clothes out of in his mad dash to collect his laundry before Ivan snuck into the shower before he got the chance. 

And so, here he was. 

Half naked in front of his teammates in sweatshirt that was the right amount of sassy and the wrong amount of small. 

“So”, Sergei’s voice drawled from across the room, “are you going to give them back?” 

“Of course I’m going to fucking give them back.” 

“Yes, yes....he has to give them back. She probably misses, you know....absolutely all of her clothes,” said Ivan, as he appeared next to Boris in the mirror, leaning against the wall, mischievous look on his face.

Boris could practically see the shit-eating grin on Tala’s face before he heard his shit-eating voice. 

“We can’t leave a lady waiting then, can we? You’d best go deliver them to her now.”

“And I will,” Boris said through clenched teeth “so long as one of you fuckers lends me something to wear.”

Emily truly had all of his clothes. 

He’d never under pack again. 

Fuck.

“And get your Boris-ness all over them? Gross.” Ivan scrunched his face back at Boris in the mirror. 

“Not yours, you little worm.” Boris locked eyes with his two considerably taller teammates in the mirror.

“Nor either of ours”, Tala said as he met his eyes, “My legs are far to slender for you to get into any of my pants”. He bent one knee and stretched his leg up on the arm of the couch that Sergei was sitting on. “And Sergei’s are too big. You’d get lost in there, and Emily would never get her clothes back”.

“That, and last time you borrowed anything of mine, you spilled red wine all over yourself. That shirt is still stained”, Sergei droned, looking forlornly into the abyss of the hotel bathroom, mourning his shirt.

“If, god knows how, anything gets onto your clothes in the time it takes me to drop this shit off at her room and come back, I will do your laundry for the rest of life.” 

“Based on your track record for laundry today? No thanks. I’d end up in one of Mao’s bras.”

Boris rolled his eyes. They said Kai was the drama queen? Sergei was about to usurp him. 

“Then can’t on of you bozos deliver them to her yourself if you’re not going to lend me anything?” 

“And subject us to the wrath of a woman who’s had her clothes swapped with tundra trekking outfits? No thanks.” Ivan said, sticking out his tongue.

“Then what the absolute hell do you wise guys suggest I do?”

“You’ve seen Emily before. She has pants.” said Tala as he removed his foot from the leg of the couch, turning on his heel and digging through the bag of still very fresh laundry that Boris lugged up from the hotel laundry room. 

“Let’s see....aha! Oh...Oh, yes....These are just perfect.” 

Oh no. 

He scrunched his eyes together and briefly considered opening them until Ivan let out a sound akin to a dog eating too fast and choking and Sergei’s laugh thundered through the room. 

He felt Tala’s hands reach around him holding up whichever pair of pants he had chosen up to Boris’ legs. 

“Now, now. Take a look.”

He could hear the laughter on Tala’s voice, and he slowly opened his eyes. 

Boris was pleasantly surprised. 

They looked innocent enough. 

Black? Check.

Stretchy? Check. 

Were they workout leggings? He’d worn those before, and it wouldn’t be such a surprise if Emily had a pair or two. She was a beyblader, after all, and they were at a tournament.

“Fine.” Boris sighed, snatching the mysterious pants from Tala and stepping into them. 

Wait....

Were those...feet? 

No...They couldn’t be? 

They were. 

Boris briefly clocked this as a strange, but he’d worn stranger clothes in his day, and they were girl clothes...girl clothes were weird. He’d seen enough fashion magazine covers and gone out on enough dates to attest to this. 

He pulled them further up his legs, happy that Tala had refused him any of his pants. He was right, of course. Boris’ legs would never fit into any pair of Tala’s jeans, skinny or not. These had a nice stretch, and he was pleasantly surprised at how the material glided over this calves. 

The material was strange, though. Despite the initial stretch and glide, Boris sighed in exasperation when it began to bunch at his knees. Bending over, he began to inch it up over his legs, eventually being able to pull the waist band over his hips. 

Letting out a deep breath after the unexpected exertion of putting on a pair of workout pants, he didn’t consider looking up at himself until he heard the raucous laughter behind him. 

Pained, breathless, laughter of his teammates behind him. 

Slowly looking up at himself, he turned what seemed like every shade of pink and red under the sun, eventually settling on one about the same shade as the vibrant sweatshirt he was wearing. 

They were see through? 

Were they fucking kidding. 

They weren’t fucking leggings. 

They were tights.

God damnit. 

“Can’t send you out like that can we?” Ivan said as he wiped a tear from his eye, doubled over.  

Boris saw Tala throw something at him from the spot against the wall he had taken up after he had collapsed from laughter after Boris’ grand reveal. 

“Better put that on. She’s probably going to be mad enough that you stole her stuff, never mind the indecent exposure,” he managed to choke out as Sergei released a lengthy wheeze.

After what was probably a few minutes, but truly felt like days, Boris managed to position himself with his back against a wall and leaned to the side to pick up Tala’s very “thoughtful” gift.

“Stop fucking around!” he roared holding up the black mini skirt and waving it at the now blubbering group of boys.

Sergei wheezed again. 

“Sorry, Borya. That’s all she has in there that can handle all of......well, that.” Tala said as he wiped a tear form his eyes and gestured vaguely at Boris’ body, which was squeezed for all it was worth into Emily’s much smaller clothes. 

“Hey now, it’s not all bad” Ivan bravely walked over to Boris, shoulders jerking as he tried to stifle another fit of giggles. “It’s stretchy.” He tugged at the material lightly, and Boris swatted the little imp’s hand away.

Accepting his defeat, Boris bent down and pulled the skirt over his legs and looked at himself in the mirror. 

“Perfect”, Tala sauntered over and placed a hand on Boris’ shoulder. “You look very pretty. See for yourself.” 

He moved in front of Boris and gently placed his glasses on to his nose. Stepping out of the way, and making a swooping gesture with his hand, prompting Boris to look at himself clearly for the first time. 

“The fuck is this”, he cursed, shock in his voice and on his face at the absolute state of the outfit stretched over his much taller and broader body. He had known that he would look ridiculous, but had been spared the detailed vision of himself looking like a sardine shoved into a can without his glasses. 

“Your new look! Now get going. We don’t want to keep the nice lady waiting,” Sergei’s jovial voiced boomed from the couch.

Sighing, Boris shuffled to his side of the bed, pulling down the fabric of the skirt as he walked, eliciting chuckles from his now least favourite teammates (Kai now moving securely to first place), and stomped his feet into his slippers. 

“Now those, really make the look,” Tala said as he opened the door for Boris and peaked down at the unexpectedly fluffy slippers that belonged to his teammate, as Sergei shoved the laundry bag into Boris’ hands. 

“Yeah, yeah”, he grunted as he readjusted the weight of the bag in his hands while looking down the hall making sure that he didn’t have any chance encounters with other members of the BBA.

Boris began his shuffle to the elevator, praying that his skirt didn’t ride up more than it did. 

This sweatshirt had lied to him. 

It had become his problem.

[monstrousaffections1]

It’s Alright It’s Ok

I jump out of my bones as my father's angry yell erupts from the house like a slamming door. Instantly my heart feels the frost of fear glaze over the surface of my beating organ. Swallowing thickly I get off my bed and hide my computer under my bedsheets, closing it's lid to hide it's light. Silently slipping out of my bedroom I move into the hallway and walk past the laundry basket, heading into the kitchen where my parents argue, the tension that has been building for two weeks finally bursting open like a damn. I would give it a day, maybe two, before their bedroom door be locked while my father hurt my mother. Then it would take either myself or my sister bursting into tears to get them to stop fighting for another few months. Swallowing thickly, I kept my eyes down as I moved into the battle zone, Shadow, my cat, rubbed around my legs, demanding biscuits. He didn't care about the chaos, he was probably use to it by now. Opening the cabinet under the sink I got his food out as my father and mother screamed at each other.

"Shut up Carol!" The man yelled, his eyes bulging and veins pulsing in his neck. He was in my mother's face, screaming at her. The woman who had for ages from my childhood had mostly cried and screamed at this man to get off her, had began to fight back. She did that often. It only increased the fighting.

"You Shut Up!" She screamed back. I patted Shadow's back as he ate. He was a big black cat. Strong and in his youth. Going to the fridge I took a certain of milk and poured myself a glass, downing it quickly. The sound of the tv came from the lounge room. Going into the room I looked at my little sister who was watching one of my favorite cartoons. Kid vs Kat. Managing a smile, I took my place beside her. I always rooted for the cat. I don't know why, perhaps I just loved cats. Plus I could relate the mischievous chaoticness of the character. Or at least that's how I wanted to be. My mother's form entered the room just as the boy and the alien cat jumped into a cloud of dust meant to depict fighting.

"Ingrid, have you done your homework?" I sighed; couldn't she see I was trying to watch something?

"Yeah." I lied. I should have said I didn't have homework.

"Ok, well, let me have a look?" Although I appreciated my mother's involvement in school, as anyone who was anyone knew that my autistic brain couldn't understand anything the teachers gave me on paper. I also wished she wasn't as involved. I just wanted some space. I was sick of homework.

Begrudgingly I got up and went to my room, dragging my books out of my school bag and dumping them on the desk. I went and got a slice of left over pizza from the fridge and poured myself a cup of coke to try and calm my racing heart.

"Ingrid you have homework. Why did you lie?" I rolled my eyes, why did she think? I wished I had headphones like all the other kids at school. I just wanted to shut her out as she started to lecture me. Casting a blank wall around my brain I sat down at the table and started on the maths homework. My worst subject. Contrary to popular belief depicted in movies, not all autistic people are good at maths. I myself am a better at English than this. I had finished a six inch novel in a week. And I was the best story writer in class. But this doesn't matter much to the adults.

After being left alone to my own devices, I sat and stared at the first math question for about ten minutes before attempting to answer it. I know I am highly likely getting the answer wrong, but I just want to finish this and escape to my room. I wanna do this without my parents coming to help. Before I know it, it's seven in the evening. I've by now attracted the attention of my father who started by trying to help, has now ended up yelling after I have proved once again useless at math.

"Are you stupid!" he screamed at me as I sat with unwavering tenseness, staring at the page and refusing to move my gaze from the sheet. My chest was shaking. There was no other way to describe it. Outwards, I was calm. But inside my chest shook like a autumn leaf. I could feel everything building up inside me. I tried to level myself. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't start crying. I repeated in my head.

"For God's Sake Ingrid! This is easy stuff! A Year 1 could do this!" He hollered and slapped my arm with a ruler. I didn't so much as flinch. I didn't want to give him that satisfaction.

"Do you even go to school!!??" I felt the first hiccup as I clenched my eyes shut and my sobs burst from my chest.

"Oh, great. Now your gonna cry." He muttered seethingly as though my melt down was a inconvenience. Mother was already serving out dinner wordlessly. This was a regular occurrence in our house. Homework that should only take five minutes, took three hours. Trying desperately to numb myself I packed up my homework to continue with tomorrow and wiped my eyes on my sleeve, trying to stop crying so I could eat dinner.

It's four in the morning when I sneak out of the house, dressed in my black hoody and trousers and my school bag on my shoulders as I lock the door behind me, take a breath, and take off running down the street. My runners pound on the side walk as I breath in the cold air of the early spring chill. I need this. Cold air, freshness, darkness just before the sun rises. Cars that pass through the street don't bother with the site of a teen girl running through the streetlights as though she were being chased. Even when my legs ache and I feel like my lungs are about to burst I don't stop. The sun's rays are barely kissing the trees by the time I reach the cultural center of my town. My throat crack a bit as a I swallow, having been dried out from my panting breaths. Rubbing sweat off my forehead I straighten up and stare at the sky. For a moment I want to disappear into the purple abyss above me. That'd be nice. Perhaps it'd be like in my stories. Just.... A life worth living perhaps. That'd be nice.

"Language!!" comes a shrieking yell from across the street. Snapping back to reality I look over to the collection of shops opening for the morning. I smile, feeling a familiar sense of warmness fill my numbed core as Bad is laughed at by his best friend, Skeppy, as the demon boy opens the shop door, peering at me with friendly white eyes. "Marr?" he calls. My smile softens as he uses my preferred name. I approach, shoving my hands into my pockets as a show of nonchalance. "Hey Bad." I raise a brow with amusement. Though he isn't fooled. He never is. I find myself pulled into a hug before I can even protest. Closing my eyes I hug him back, savoring the physical contact. That is until there is a photo snap and the blue haired boy snaps a picture. I frown and pull away.

"Skeppy! Delete that right now." I grumble, folding my arms with a frown.

"Nah. I think I'll add a few heart emojis." He teases as I fluster and puff up my cheeks. The demon beside me frowns, though his smile shows, he can never be mad at his friend. Rolling his white orbs he looks down at me gently.

"Breakfast. On the house." Bad and Skeppy were the only people I trusted. They didn't ask questions. Or offer to call anyone. They just let me hang out with them before work hours if I didn't want to be at home.

Nodding my head, I entered the café and sat down in a booth. Bad squeezed my shoulder and started the coffee brewer as Skeppy set up the tables and chairs for the day. Folding my arms to keep my fingers warm after I had pulled some of my hair out of my hood, I looked up slightly. Trying to think of a good way to start conversation.

"Did you guys sleep ok?" is it alright to ask that to people you don't live with?

Our words went back and forth in friendly small talk. Occasionally Skeppy would swear and get playfully told off by his friend. I would just laugh. Everyone in life is super serious. So it feels nice sometimes to just be around two goofs. I was given an expresso and hot pie. I savored the warm gravy taste, I wasn't even stressed but it was hard to not scoff it. A few people were starting to come in now. People on their way to work, stopping for a coffee and picking up take away. I wondered if it was nice. Living in a steady sense of movement. Where everything was the same and you knew what to do. Instead of struggling to hold together a toothpick structure simply cause nothing makes sense. I've missed opportunities for jobs simply because they've been offered while I was in the middle of a shut down. Same goes for friendships, or dates with boys, because I will just stare at them with a dumb panicked expression for a good five minutes while I try and figure out how to respond. In the end I am mistook for either rude or stupid. I am neither—Well ok I can be rude sometimes. But I'm definitely not stupid.

Feeling my anxiety levels raise I scull the rest of my coffee. Bad's tail stands on end in alarm as steam comes out of my mouth. "Careful you Muffinhead! You'll burn your tongue!" I shrugged with a smirking grin. "Hey look. I'm a dragon." I blow more steam out of my mouth. Skeppy busts up laughing from the kitchen as the demon sighs, rolling his eyes he ruffles my head. "Muffinhead." He mutters with a smirk. I hold up the cup. "Re-fill?" my hoody sleeve falls down slightly and the movement. Bad's smile slips and his eyes widen. "Holy shit what happened to your arm?" Skeppy chokes on a cackle. "Bad!?" finding it hysterical that the normally passive demon actually swore. I blinked and checked over my arm briefly, ah. Right. Pulling my sleeve down to cover the red marks from the ruler I shrugged. "Nothing. I'm fine." The demon stares for a moment before sighing in defeat. "At least let me get you some ice." Seeing the opportunity, I snicker, "But it's freezing!" Bad rolls his eyes, "For your arm, you Muffinhead." I poked out my tongue playfully.

With a cloth full of ice resting on my arm and a fresh cup of steaming coffee in front of me, I watch the pair work. Skeppy's diamonds are starting to sprout out of his arm. I do wonder how that doesn't hurt. But I'm just glad I'm not that kind of hybrid. Not that I'm any kind of hybrid. Considering how much the world changed after the Rifting, it's surprising that I'm not physically different as I am mentally. Even my sister is a Hybrid, despite my parents being human. She's a dog, by the fur coloring I'd say she's a kelpie. A car pulls up in the parking lot. It looks old, but the good kind of old. Kind of vintage, but not fancy. Just old. Through the windscreen three boys fight and seem to be bickering amongst each other. A tired looking man gets out. I recognize him. That's Philza, he shows up at school every now and then whenever Techno gets into a fight, or Tommy's pranks go horribly wrong, or Wilbur sasses out the teacher one to many times. He's a hybrid, either that or an angel. It's hard to tell. But he enters the coffee shop and walks to the counter. Huge black wings folded against his back.

"Bad, morning." He greet cheerfully and tips his weird stripped hat he always wears. I never liked that hat. It made me dizzy. He reads out a bunch of orders from a piece of paper, something about one flat-white, a mocha, a caramel latte, and a decaf frappe for Tommy. Bad nods his head and asks Skeppy to handle the order. I frown and tilt my head a bit. The strangely serious demon comes out from behind the counter and takes Philza by the arm, talking softly with him. I blink in surprise when they both look subtly towards me. I look down at the welt on my arm, pulling down the sleeve I bring my hand to my mouth and start to chew on my thumb knuckle. It seems I have over estimated the level of trust I should have given Bad. Rocking back and forth a bit I pick up my coffee cup to down it in one go. Don't trust grown ups. I'm about to pull my hood up when Philza comes over to my table, smiling down at me softly. I stare up at him with confusion. Fiddling with my fingers nervously.

"Hello, your Marr, right?" He raises a brow, his green eyes glinting with humor. My face heats up, and I avoid his eyes. "Uh.. yeah.. I think so..." he chuckles at this and puts his hand on the chair on the other side of the table. "Can I sit hear?" I blink in surprise, teachers and my parents never asked permission before they did things. Atleast my mum never did when she went through my school bag. Nor my did my dad when he turned down the music on my computer. I nod my head, continuing to rock back and forth. Sitting down he took off his hat, putting it in his lap. I stared at his blond hair that hung down to his shoulders. A crooked smile came upon his face, before it faded slowly. "Are you ok?" I started to scratch my arm. "I'm fine." This was my default response to most questions. He nodded his head as if this was a appropriate answer, he didn't pry. "How do you plan on getting to school, do you take a bus?" I shake my head, shrugging. I normally walk. Which is why I'm always late. He chuckles and takes his hat, putting it back on. "Well mate, if you'd like I can give you a ride, no strings." He winks good-naturedly. I look down, thinking for a bit. I don't trust strangers, even people with kids my age are dangerous. I look at Bad, chewing my lip. The demon smiles warmly and nods. Ok, I guess I'll give it a shot. I nod, "Yeah.. ok."

The hybrid gets to his feet quickly, "Great!" just in time for his order to be declared ready. With crow like laugh he takes the tray. "Welp, come on! The boys'll kill each other otherwise." he chuckles and heads out the door. After a moment of hesitation I follow him. The boys seem surprised when they spot me. Through a open window Philza hands the tray to Techno, a piglin hyrbid. I try not to stare at his tusks, it's rude. "Wilbur scoot over." Philza instructs his eldest son, opening the door for me. Tommy and his brother exchange a look before Wilbur undoes his seatbelt of shuffle over. I feel awkward as I get in, doing up my seatbelt and doing my best to avoid looking at the boys. As Philza turns on the engine there is a awkward, surprised silence. Until there isn't. "Who's the woman!?" Tommy inquires loudly. I wince.

[excelsi-or]

just a little sweeter (pt.3)

Hi friends~~ I hope you guys all had a good relaxing weekend! I am back with more Jihoon & baby times. :D

BIPOC time: if you guys can, please check out this linktree by antiracismdaily on IG. It has links to donate for Jacob Blake, who was unarmed and shot by police in the back and is now paralyzed from the waist down, and the Milwaukee Freedom Fund. As well as a link to demand justice for Jacob.

w.c. 2.3k (domestic fluff, this is one of my faves)

pt. 1; pt. 2

Over the next few weeks, every time someone drops a coffee off at his desk, Jihoon can’t help but think about the woman standing behind the counter who made it. She’s helped him out more than once on a hard day with Eunha, and he hasn’t even properly thanked her for either incident. He’s taken Eunha to the café after work a few times, when he doesn’t know what to make his daughter for dinner. She hasn’t been there, but the employees are always happy to see him.

“You should really feed her better,” Seungkwan says. He brought Eunha soup when Jihoon said he’d forgotten to pack either of them a lunch.

“I know,” Jihoon sighs, still focused on finishing up one of the last few songs for the album. “All I’ve been able to really think about is all our deadlines.”

“I told you that if you wanted, we could go to a cooking class so you could learn quick recipes.”

“And I said that would be a bad idea.”

“Eunha doesn’t have to come,” Seungkwan reminds him. He looks over at Jihoon. “Besides, you can’t keep her hidden forever. The staff at the café know you have a child. How long until that gets out?”

“If they haven’t said anything already, considering how often I go, I’m guessing I have some time,” Jihoon says.

“We’re out of here earlier tonight. Soonyoung hyung said that we should rest a bit,” Seungkwan scoffs. Eunha grabs his wrist to remember to feed her. “So maybe you should cook this little on dinner, hmm?”

Eunha giggles.

“Yeah, yeah. Sure.”

But Jihoon does listen to him. The younger man is right; his daughter should eat better. As she is slowly starting to prefer walking to being carried, she has her hand clasped around his finger. It takes a little longer to make it to the store near the studio, but they get there with only one near fall.

Jihoon stands at the front of the produce section, already overwhelmed.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

Jihoon turns at the voice. He recognizes her immediately. “Hey. It’s late.”

She nods. “One of my girls was having issues with her boyfriend, so there was no one to watch her kid until her mom got back from a doctor’s appointment.” She waves it off. “Gotta cook myself dinner.”

Jihoon hums. “They want us to rest for once,” he chuckles. “So I thought that I would cook the little one dinner.”

She crouches down and holds a hand out for a high five. “Hello.”

“I guess I’ve never introduced you. This is Eunha.”

She glances up at Jihoon. “She looks like you.” Her eyes fall to Eunha who still has a hand pressed to hers. She wraps Eunha’s tiny hand in hers. “Are you excited for daddy to cook you dinner?”

Eunha pulls a face. Jihoon’s learned that his daughter understands much more than she can speak, so she answers with facial expressions. Most of which she’s learned from Seokmin and Soonyoung.

“Oh,” she laughs. She straightens. “I guess you’re not much of a cook.”

“Never really had to learn until now,” Jihoon admits.

She looks around and shrugs. “How healthy are we trying to go? Or are you just going quick and easy?”

“Quick and easy,” Jihoon answers. “And if you can write down all the instructions, that would be great.”

“I could show you if you’d like.”

Jihoon tilts his head.

“You and Eunha can come to my place for dinner and I’ll show you how to make it. It’s always easier than words on paper. Then you’ll also know what it should look like.” 

He can’t say no to an offer like that. He also doesn’t want to tell this woman no.

Jihoon trails after her as she begins to fill her basket with produce.

“That seems like a lot of stuff.”

“Most of it is for me,” she laughs. “The recipe I’m thinking of, I have most of the ingredients at home.”

“Oh. Do you want to meet at the front then?”

She looks over at him with a tomato in her hand. “Do you have other things you need to grab?”

“Well, no. I just don’t want you to feel pressured or annoyed that we’re around.”

She laughs. “If I thought that, Woozi-ssi, I wouldn’t have invited you over.”

“Woo-zi,” Eunha repeats.

“Call me Jihoon.” Jihoon taps Eunha’s head. “And you call me Dad.”

She smiles at the exchange and introduces herself in kind. They wander through the store. She picks up snacks, and asks Jihoon what sort of snacks he likes. “I know you’re coming for dinner, but everyone likes to snack while they cook.”

Jihoon asks about her work and how she got into it. In turn, she asks about Eunha and her personality. As Eunha is currently Jihoon’s favourite topic of conversation, he doesn’t mind sharing.

By the time they’re in the check out line, Jihoon feels comfortable. Eunha appears to be as well, because without hesitation, she grabbed this stranger’s hand when Jihoon offered to carry the grocery basket. With a reuseable bag each, she leads Jihoon in the opposite direction of his apartment.

“I heard you’ve been coming in more often.”

Jihoon hums. “When I don’t have time to cook her dinner, ironically enough, I’ll head into the café.”

“And here I thought you’d never step foot into my establishment. The members said you’re a hermit.”

“I don’t usually go anywhere, because…” He nods his head towards Eunha, who is walking between them. Her hands are clasped around each of theirs. “Not great for the idol image if I suddenly have a child and no mother.”

“You never mention her mother.”

Jihoon hesitates. This is further in the conversation than he wanted to go.

“We don’t have to talk about her. I’m pleased you come in and like my food.”

“The dinosaur sandwiches are a nice touch,” Jihoon admits, relieved that she can read the situation well. Every situation well. Each time Jihoon has felt uncomfortable, she’s changed the topic of conversation.

“It must be hard to have to take her everywhere.”

“The job allows it and the members are great with her. I honestly couldn’t ask for a better set up.”

She gives Eunha’s hand a light tug towards an apartment and they walk up the steps. She drops Eunha’s hand and fumbles for a key in her bag to let them in. They take the elevator up to the third floor, and almost immediately, Jihoon is hit with a whiff of… dog.

“Sorry,” she mutters when Eunha claps a hand over her nose. “One of the neighbours has four dogs and doesn’t bathe them often enough. When it rains, it really makes the smell permeate.”

Jihoon scoops Eunha up with one arm, so they can hurry down the hallway. As soon as they step foot into her apartment, the smell shifts to something lighter. It smells like clean laundry in her home and Eunha sighs in relief. Jihoon sets her down and his daughter slips out of her shoes. She stands at his side, eyes peering curiously into the darkened living room.

“Come here, Eunha,” she beckons. She leads them into the living room, flicking on the light. She disappears into one of the bedrooms and reemerges with a basket of toys. She sets it down on the floor and Eunha is all over them. There is a colouring book that the little one gravitates towards and Jihoon notices the desk with art supplies on it when she grabs a cup of crayons. She sets it down on the rug and Eunha lies stomach down and quickly begins colouring a page.

Jihoon squats down next to his daughter and runs a hand over her hair. “Do you want water?”

“No,” she says.

“Okay, we’ll be in the kitchen.” Jihoon kisses the top of her head before heading to the kitchen. “The toys?”

“My little brother,” she chuckles as they unload the groceries. “It doesn’t make sense to bring all his toys here every time, so I have a box of them.” She shrugs. “I try to get us out of the house, so he can use up his energy. But on rainy days, we make do.”

Jihoon pulls products out so she can put them away. Once everything appears to be put away, she pulls ingredients out and Jihoon can already guess what they’re making. “We’re making kimchi and bacon mac and cheese.”

She grins at him. “I told you it was easy.”

“Is it bad that I don’t know how to make it?”

“And that’s why you’re here.”

Cooking is easy and Eunha does stumble in a few times looking for something to eat. Jihoon hands her a few snacks, but tries to pay as much attention as he can while she explains how to make the mac and cheese. It seems so straightforward, but when they sit down to eat—Eunha sat on five cushions—Jihoon is surprised at how good it tastes. Eunha happily eats with a hand and a fork.

She chuckles as she stands and returns with a bib. She ties it gently around Eunha’s neck. “There you go, kiddo. Go crazy.”

Eunha stares down at the dinosaurs on the bib and smiles wider.

“I can’t help all the mess on her face,” she apologizes.

Jihoon shakes his head. “You’ve done more than enough.”

“Do you let her eat sweets?”

Jihoon’s eyes widen, but when he looks to Eunha, she’s so focused on dinner that she doesn’t hear anything.

“Judging from your reaction, I’m going to assume you try not to,” she laughs. “Hyper?”

“Intensely so.”

“Do you let her eat the sweets alone?”

“Usually. I mean, I don’t eat when she eats.”

She nods her head thoughtfully as she pops some food in her mouth.

“Should I be?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s my own idea of parenting.” She rests her cheek in her hand. “And I’m not a parent.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“You’re doing just fine, Jihoon.” She gives him a light kick under the table. “Look at her. She’s gorgeous and healthy. Aren’t you, kiddo?”

Apparently, Eunha only listens if she’s talking, because her large doe eyes turn to her as soon as she hears the nickname. Just her looking makes Eunha smile widely.

“So, don’t stress much.”

Jihoon scoffs at the praise. “Back to the topic of feeding.”

She snorts. “Right.” She brushes some of Eunha’s hair out of her face, but it continues to fall into the girl’s mouth. She stands and pulls the pieces around Eunha’s face up into a little ponytail and ties with the elastic around her wrist. “There we go.”

She sits back down and gives Jihoon her full attention. If she can see the fondness in his eyes, she doesn’t acknowledge it. “Right. Feeding. You should eat with her. It will make her want to eat, you get to eat, and why would eating together ever be a bad thing?”

“Because then I also have to feed her.”

She looks from him to Eunha, who hasn’t needed any assistance except to get her hair out of her face.

“I think she can manage feeding herself.”

Jihoon hums. “I guess you’re right.” Maybe he hasn’t realized how big his little one has gotten.

She chews a mouthful. “When my little brother comes over, he makes the biggest mess. My parents hate it, but…” she shrugs, “throw everything in the wash, wipe it down with a towel, and everything is the same. He gets to learn how to do things on his own and I don’t have to coddle him all the time.”

“And you feed him dessert?”

She finishes the last of her mac and cheese. “I usually give him fruit. Ice cream if I have it.”

Eunha says nothing, but looks to her expectantly.

“But I don’t have it today,” she apologizes. “Do you like fruits, kiddo?”

“Strawberry,” Eunha says.

Jihoon lifts an eyebrow. That’s news to him.

“Hmm,” she hums.  She peers into her fridge and says, “Well, I don’t have strawberries, but…” She brings out a peach and crouches down next to Eunha so they’re eye level. Then she holds the peach in her palm. “How about this?”

Eunha tips her head.

“Peach,” she states.

Eunha sounds out the word. “Pee-each.”

Grinning, she nudges it into Eunha’s hands. “I’ll let your dad cut it for you, hmm?”

Eunha holds the fruit between her hands, her thumbs running over the fuzz. Then she holds it out to Jihoon when he has a knife.

“You keep your peaches in the fridge?”

“Only for when my little brother is going to eat it. For whatever reason, he prefers it cold.”

“You’re saying she cooked you dinner?” Seungcheol asks down the line.

Jihoon hikes Eunha up higher. She’d fallen asleep after dinner and Jihoon didn’t want to keep her any longer. “Yeah. Well mostly Eunha, but we ate it too.”

“And she just… invited you to her house.”

“Yeah. Is it weird?”

“Jihoon. The woman is interested in you.”

“Well…” Jihoon can’t exactly argue that. With a daughter, he’s suddenly become very adept at reading people. He can tell when a woman is interested in him. Maybe it’s because he has to think about Eunha too now. “Yeah, I know.”

“Well, my next question is going to be are you interested in her?”

“Eunha loves her.”

“I’m asking about you.”

“I don’t know,” Jihoon admits. “I think I like the help.”

“What if you just ask her out on a date?”

“And do what with my daughter?”

Seungcheol snorts. “Obviously we can watch your daughter.”

Jihoon pauses. As great as Seungcheol and Jeonghan are with Eunha, Jihoon feels significantly better asking Seungkwan to watch her. And he says as much.

“Well, bring her to their dorm then,” Seungcheol snorts. “All I’m saying is that asking the woman on one date isn’t going to make you burst into flames.”

[ghostgothgeek]

Blush. Chapter 5

Chapter written by @ecto-american!

Disclaimer: actual sex ed talk

FFN || AO3

---

God it felt like forever until he was finally leaving the bathroom again, even though the clock on the wall said it had only been about five minutes. He waited for Sam to leave and for his personal issues to figure themselves out before he swung the bathroom door open. Thankfully, nobody was there, and he sighed heavily. He was  not  looking forward to returning to the class. Maybe he should just skip.

Ugh, and risk having to do a one on one private sex education lesson with Mr. Lancer? No thanks. He’d rather get the talk from the Box Ghost. 

He dragged his feet towards the classroom. Elliot was obviously back in the class by now, probably already telling everybody what had just happened. Which was nothing, but once he spread the news to Paulina, that was all she wrote. Paulina could spread gossip so fast that it was honestly impressive. Almost a superpower. 

Danny stood in the doorframe of the class before immediately turning to leave. Fuck this.

“Hey!” Mike’s voice called out accusingly. “Come on. Can’t skip out.” God, why couldn’t the accident have fully killed him? Ghosts didn’t have to go to school. Or suffer through having to listen to the sex talk. 

Taking a deep breath, he turned to see the bane of his existence. Elliot, grinning like the cat that ate the canary, was sitting in the previously unoccupied seat that was to Danny’s left. That absolute fucker changed seats  again , and Danny avoided eye contact as he returned to his chair. Elliot watched him like a hawk. 

No sooner than he planted himself, Elliot scooted his chair closer to him. Danny refused to look at him. The other leaned into him.

“Couldn’t wait, aye?” he whispered, not even bothering to hold back a snicker. 

Danny’s eyes flickered to the front. Mike’s attention was on a student who had asked a question. He took the chance to punch Elliot in the shoulder. Hard. The exchange student’s seat jerked back a bit, and he winced as he rubbed his shoulder. Danny hoped it would bruise. Tucker nudged Danny, giving him a weird look. Danny shook his head, and he rubbed his face with his hands tiredly. He knew his face was bright red. 

“You know, girls with more experience tend to give you a better time,” Elliot’s voice refused to shut the fuck up. “So uh, ya know. You’re welcome.”

“For what?” Danny scowled. 

“Dude, Sam and I have done stuff. We’d go to her house and such, I’ve been to third base like, at least four times.”

Danny felt his hands shake with rage. God damn it, god  fucking damn it.  He knew that wasn’t true. He was there on every date, from beginning to end because he specifically didn’t trust him. And even when he stopped, Tucker was there. Nothing happened. He knew it. But how do you call a guy out like that? How do you prove that you know he’s full of shit?

“You’re full of shit,” was all Danny could find himself able to say. “And just shut the hell up about Sam already. You guys broke up. It’s over. Done. Let it go.”

Elliot gave a small hum.

“Eh, I dunno. I thought about asking her out again,” Elliot said slyly. 

Danny took a deep breath. He refused to fall into this guy’s petty crap. No, no, he wasn’t, he was just trying to test his patience.  He’s just trying to get a reaction out of you, Fenton. Don’t give him one. 

He made a point of ignoring Elliot, instead opening the Planned Parenthood booklet to the section related to Mike’s lecture. He zoned out though. None of this mattered, he wasn’t an idiot. Condoms and consent, basic stuff. Not like he planned on going out and getting wild. 

Well of course, there were some girls he wouldn’t mind getting wild with. Paulina instantly came to mind. She had an excellent body. One he had seen in a swimsuit before. And of course, it’s not like he didn’t think about it with Valerie when they were together. He liked her a lot. Plus Sam. Sam had such a nice gentle touch. And soft lips and hands. Why did he never realize that?

Danny spaced out, staring ahead at the front of the class. He wished Sam was here, next to him instead of fucking Elliot. By now, she’d likely have leaned into him, bored to tears herself. Sometimes she cuddled up into him if it was cold. It wasn’t now, but it wouldn’t be the first time he purposefully made the classroom a bit chilly for that very reason. Her hugs were always just comforting and calming. 

“Dude, taste this,” Tucker’s voice broke him from his thoughts. Danny glanced to see his friend. He had opened another condom packet, and he was holding it up to Danny. 

“...What?” 

“Dude, it tastes really good,” Tucker insisted. “It tastes just like mint.”

“I’m not licking any condoms that you’ve already been licking,” Danny scowled. 

“Just open yours and taste it,” Tucker encouraged. Danny sighed, giving a light shrug. Well, anything to pass the time. 

He opened the condom packet. It was greasy and felt gross, and he hesitantly pressed his tongue against it. Surprisingly, Tucker was right. Not too bad.

“Huh, that does taste like mint,” he hummed in surprise. 

He put the entire, still rolled condom in his mouth. He sucked on it for a bit before spitting it back out into his hand. Danny studied Mike until Mike turned his back and Lancer was still distracted before slapping it on Elliot’s cheek. The wet condom stuck there for a second before falling to the floor. Elliot immediately turned to glare at him. He glanced to make sure the teachers were still distracted before returning the punch from earlier, hitting Danny in the upper arm. 

Danny flinched. It definitely didn’t hurt nearly as much as a ghost, but it still ached for a moment. He refused to rub his shoulder to comfort himself. This was apparently a bad move. Elliot glared at him until the next available opportunity, and he hit him again. Danny let out an irritated groan from clenched teeth. That one hurt a bit more.

“Cut it out before I kick you so hard you can be assured that you’ll never have a kid,” Danny threatened. 

“Bold of you to even assume I want children, Fenton,” Elliot replied in a hushed tone. “The best birth control is having a one year old nephew that screams all the time and constantly shits himself out of excitement whenever he hears the ice cream truck. No fucking thanks. From the looks of things, you’re the one that needs to be neutered. I can gladly help.”

Elliot shifted a bit away from him, only to raise his foot to attempt to kick him. Obviously, he only hit Danny’s side. The halfa grabbed Elliot’s foot, yanking him hard. He fell out of the seat with a surprised yelp. 

“You guys okay?” Mike’s voice called out. Upon hearing the noises, Mr. Lancer had snapped to his feet.

“You two better not be messing around,” Mr. Lancer’s voice instantly caused a wave of complete silence to fall upon the classroom. “This is an important lesson you will carry for the rest of your lives. I expect you to pay attention, or else I will assign homework or give a pop quiz on this.”

Elliot put his elbow up on the table, pulling himself up and back onto his seat. 

“I’m fine, just tilted my chair back too much,” he lied. He flashed Lancer a fake smile. The teacher didn’t look amused.

“Watch yourself, Mr. Gregor,” he warned before sitting back down. 

Mike gave a friendly smile at the class before continuing his conversation. Danny sat up a bit straighter. Of all the days to get detention, this was not the day he wanted to have to deal with that. Sure, he wasn’t on the radar now, but it wouldn’t be long. 

He felt Elliot nudge him, and he pointedly ignored it. He focused on Mike, who was answering Kwan’s inquiry about a male birth control pill. Elliot poked him. Danny did nothing.

“Hey, you mad just because I know that Sam wears pink panties?” Elliot whispered. That was enough to instantly boil his blood.

“You don’t know shit,” Danny hissed at him. 

“Oh I know all about how Sam secretly has bright pink panties,” Elliot taunted. Danny rolled his eyes. He had done Sam’s laundry before. He’s done her emergency overnight packing. They’ve gotten a bit heavy during makeouts twice. She’s stayed over for sleepovers since they were like twelve. And even if none of that happened, he doubted Sam would secretly wear pink. She didn’t care what others thought, if she wanted to wear pink, she’d just openly wear pink.

“You’re so full of crap,” Danny scowled. “They’re almost all black or purple. At least one’s dark gray with black bats all over them. You really think Sam would wear pink like, ever? Dumbass.”

Elliot stared at him, mouth slightly open. Tucker was staring at him too, with wide eyes. Danny didn’t really notice them, focusing his attention once more on Mike. He had, at some point, began writing a list of pros and cons up on the board of various birth control methods. Danny studied it for a moment. Mike glanced at the clock. He patted the box set before him on the table.

“Okay, so we’re approaching lunch, so I’m going to take a pause right now to just say that this box has some condoms, sample-size lube bottles, and some short books about gender identity that you can take as you wish,” Mike explained, holding up the items as he spoke. “There’s just some fun stickers too, and we also have a card that has the number of a therapist office we partner with. We’ll be leaving the door unlocked, so you can come in and grab it discreetly during lunch if you don’t want to in the rush to leave. I won’t be in here, I’ll actually be with Mallory in Room 105, which I understand is the uh.” Mike paused. “Room just down the hall?” The class nodded at him. “Cool. So we’ll be there if you want to ask more personal questions.”

The bell finally rang, and Danny sighed in relief. Elliot was already out of his seat, mumbling something about needing to update Paulina asap on something, out the door before Mike could even continue.

“Alrighty folks, if you wanna take some bananas with you as part of lunch too, feel free!” Mike shot a teasing smile at Danny, and the teen sunk in his seat before quickly getting to his feet and making a fast-walk for the door. “We won’t be needing them later on, so take as many as you like. And of course, feel free to take whatever you want from the box.”

As he passed by, Danny glanced into the box, a blurred colorful assortment of condoms, stickers and the sample lube bottles. He refused to stop and take one, unlike a few brave souls behind him, including Tucker for some reason, who stopped to grab anywhere from one, to a handful. Or in Tucker’s case,  two  handfuls? What? Tucker wasn’t even dating anybody right now.

He quickly turned the corner out of the classroom, and a quick glance around, he noticed he was alone. He turned invisible, and he walked back in, intangibly going through his classmates to peak into the box. Danny paused before looking around as the contents were shifted as classmates hunted for what they wanted, and finally, he grabbed two purple colored condoms, Sam’s secret favorite color. She liked to act like it was black, but he knew deep down that it was purple. He walked out, seeing the hallway become crowded, though everybody seemed wrapped up in their own business. The normal.

The halfa slipped into a janitor’s closet, turning visible. He quickly left and shut the door behind him, walking until he spied his friend. Tucker was crouched on the floor next to the lockers near the classroom they had just exited, trying to carefully put his new condom collection into his open backpack without spilling them all over the floor.

“Do you really need that many?” Danny wondered. Tucker grinned. 

“Better safe than sorry!” he told him.

“What about when you get all your tech back, it’s not gonna all fit,” Danny pointed out. Tucker gave Danny an intense, serious look. 

“I’ll find a way,” he assured him before returning to his task. He was picking up fallen condoms to stuff into his bag. 

Danny chuckled. He glanced up and into the classroom, unintentionally locking eyes with Elliot. The other was talking with Mike. About what, Danny couldn’t tell, but Elliot had immediately shot him a light smirk. Danny scowled back, crossing his arms.

“Come on, Tuck, I’m starving, and I’m not really interested in having a condom for lunch,” Danny spoke up.  And I miss Sam.  He turned to begin walking, hearing Tucker scrambling to zip his backpack newly full of condoms and rush after him.

“So uh...do you wanna talk about how come you know what kind of underwear Sam wears?” Tucker questioned. Danny stared blankly at him before he flushed, scowling. 

“Tucker, you’ve seen her underwear. You did her laundry and helped me pack her stuff before.” 

Tucker blinked, thinking on this answer for a moment. Danny stood on his tiptoes, looking for a sign of Sam coming from the other classroom. None. She was probably at her locker, and he began to walk towards it, Tucker following.

“...Yeah but I’ve never like...kept track of the colors,” Tucker said slowly. Danny could feel his cheeks turning a bit redder, but he refused to reply. “Sooo...wanna expand a little on those three makeout times that I apparently didn’t know about?”

“No,” Danny said shortly before finally spotting Sam. He sighed happily, taking a few eager steps towards her.

[rokutouxei]

the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

ikemen vampire: temptation through the dark theo van gogh / mc | T | [ ao3 link in bio ]

The challenge seemed pretty simple: to try to befriend the university bookshop’s most sour employee, Theo van Gogh. As a literature major with a boatload of book recommendations on her back, it ought to be a simple task indeed. But as she uncovers what lies between Theo’s pages, the more she finds it harder to become closer to him without having to put the feeling directly into words. What can she learn from Theo about what it means to stay—and how can she teach Theo about what it means to let go? | written for ikevamp big bang 2020!

[ masterpost for all chapters ]

CHAPTER 19 OF 22

-Sweetness of the dagger in the heart, up to the hilt Like a remorse. I'm not sure of dying.

- "Midnight Elegy", Léopold Sédar Senghor

--

interlude i

 --

It tastes a little more bitter than she thought it would be.

And she knows it’s not because of the leaving itself, but something else, that one thing she hadn’t dared address due to her overlapping fears. But time does not stop for anyone, so she is, instead, here. Standing in front of an open, semi-filled suitcase.

Going away for a year means packing enough clothes to last her through all the seasons, things she can style and re-style over and over efficiently. So she’s bringing her favorite clothes: a maroon turtleneck, her favorite plaid plants, the white blouse she wears all the time in the summer, her coat…

Her hands ghost over the fabric of the folded yellow dress she’s about to pack in but—

Something about yellow doesn’t sit right with her anymore.

Whatever. She doesn’t have to put it in yet. Or ever. Besides, it’s not like she’ll be done packing today, there are still some clothes in the laundry she ought to bring with her, and stuff she brought for repairs, and—

She’s just not ready to go quite yet.

So when Dazai invites her to join him and Arthur on a road trip, she says yes without thinking.

It’s a good deal, anyway—she only has to split the costs of gas and food, and Dazai and Arthur are shouldering the rest of the costs. (Where they got the money, she doesn’t know.) They said it’s their little treat, to wish her good luck with her trip abroad. They’re going south to a little-known beach destination. But it’s not just the three of them; Isaac’s not on campus right now—due to a conference or a seminar of some sort—but he promised he would follow them to the area once it was over.

They were set to stay for three nights. Arthur and Dazai promise that while they’ll be staying in the same hotel, they’ll get a suite that assures that both she and Isaac have entirely different rooms from theirs. She makes a face at them that makes them laugh, but soon enough, they’ve piled into Dazai’s rented car and are on their way three hours from campus.

It’s two weeks before she’s leaving for her exchange program and time feels slow.

They get there late in the afternoon, the sun just about to set; just in time to relax a little before the dinner buffet opens. At the latter end of the trip, Dazai had begun to sing praises non-stop about the food. Arthur also kept mentioning the view. Which would be exciting, if they weren’t being so handsy with each other that it was hard to figure out if they were talking about the resort or each other. The suite they had gotten with three rooms and a shared living space was rather beautiful, with a balcony that led right into the beachside.

Arthur and Dazai stumble backward onto their shared room with their mouths locked onto each other, and she exits the door at the back to look out the view.

She’s moving to a town by the seaside in fourteen days, and she’s lived in the city for so long it’s hard to imagine what it would be like to live in a place like this for longer than a vacation. The sharehouse she’d managed to get for herself was only a train ride or two to the beach, as well, so this kind of view, with the endless sea, the deep orange-red of the setting sun—is soon to become common.

It fills her with delight and—

Also fear.

But there’s not much time to think about it because soon, it’s time for dinner, and Dazai’s put on an Aloha shirt with a questionable design and—oh dear, Arthur has too. The linen blouse she’s got on has nothing in comparison to the loudness her friends are wearing, and somehow it’s just right.

Dazai is correct in saying that the food is good, and they stuff themselves to bursting with all the seafood and vegetables they can muster. She hadn’t imagined there would be this many kinds of edible seaweed, and how delicious they can be with the right mix of a salad. Then, there’s even a little song and dance presentation by a local cultural group—the kind that invited the audience to join in. Of course, Arthur and Dazai join in. She takes all the videos and photos she is physically able to, two phones in her hands and a camera on the table.

For a good portion of the three hours they spend half-eating, half-talking at the cafeteria, she forgets all that she is worried about.

Like it’s getting taken away by the sea.

The next morning, the three of them join a little tour group to go snorkeling at a nearby island. She admits to not being the most proficient swimmer—and also to a little fear of the open ocean—so Dazai and Arthur take turns to hold her hand and be by her side. They point at beautifully colored corals and swarms of fishes dashing in between their legs. The sea is not that scary when someone you know will not leave you is by your side. That no matter how far you go from the shore, you are still anchored down. At some point, Arthur gets stung by a jellyfish he’d missed to evade, and whines about it on the boat all the way back—Dazai promises to kiss it better. She pretends to be seasick. It’s all in good fun.

She doesn’t catch Dazai looking carefully at every expression she makes.

One group of tourists also in the same resort come knocking at their door around lunchtime, once they’ve gotten back. The group asks them if they’d like to join them in a little grill party because they’ve ordered too much food. Arthur offers to bring soda and alcohol in exchange, and so for a good portion of the afternoon, they’re sitting by the beachside under the shade of umbrellas munching on some grilled seafood and meat. It’s a large group that both Dazai and Arthur socialize with easily, while she guards their little spot. A young woman with dark black hair and stunning brown eyes tries to seek her company, but she politely declines, and she shuffles off back to the crowd with a little disappointment.

She’d rather be with someone else. But it’s all for the better that he isn’t with them, anyway. She knows that.

Isaac arrives later that day, the shadow of a storm in his eyes, just shortly after they’ve eaten their dinner. With one look, it becomes obvious to the three of them that Isaac will be severely overdressed. He looks great in it, sure, but a neatly-pressed button-down shirt paired with slacks and matching dress shoes aren’t exactly what you wear to the beach.

(“Of course that’s what he has, Arthur, he came from a conference.”

“Conference schmonference. What kind of man doesn’t have at least one pair of shorts and a T-shirt when he’s on a trip.”

“It is not professional, and I will not be wearing my sleepwear to the beach, Arthur.”

“Now, now, boys,” Dazai says, but she knows by the tone of his voice that he’s not up to any good, either. “I’m sure we’ll be able to work something out for our dear Isaac here.”)

The four of them end up watching a movie that night—Enola Holmes, her insistence—and maybe they watched another one, but she was asleep by the tail end of the first one to have even noticed. It is Isaac who carries her to bed. He’s only been here for a few hours at that point, but—sometimes she gets so deep into her head that she doesn’t notice how obviously it shows; in the bags under her eyes, in the way she holds herself upright—or not at all. And her friends are her friends for a reason.

The next day, they get into action.

She’s just gotten out of bed when Arthur comes back into the suite with a handful of flyers, saying that there’s going to be a surfing instructor down the beach. After some bayside breakfast—room service, because they can; she is so suspicious of Arthur right now, how many of the hotel staff had he seduced to get all this lavish treatment?—and a bit of rest, the four of them make the trek to the instructor’s place, nearby where the seaside shops are.

She and Arthur elbow each other all the way to the seaside, carrying their rented boards whispering to each other about how the instructor is “admittedly-actually-not-that-bad-and-maybe-if-I-were-a-little-less-sober-pretty-attractive.” Dazai and Isaac hang out by the beachside, having bought a pair of the most delicious in-season mango shakes they have ever had, lying on some reclining chairs.

Surfing, as it seems, is not as easy as it looks like, and the grace that comes with riding over waves taller than you is one that is learned by falling over and over again. It doesn’t take long for her to get soaked, sinking into the water with each unbalanced stance, the sea overpowering her. But she comes up laughing anyway. It is nice to feel small when the world is daunting. Arthur is there for every wave that crests. He watches her break the surface, grinning as she gasps for air with the stupidest “I fucked up again!” acceptance smile filling her face.

After the hour and a half they spent with the trainer who was a little too patient with her to be entirely uninterested, not giving up on her even when all hope seemed lost (she got to do it at least twice; that counts, doesn’t it?), she and Arthur head to where Dazai and Isaac are. They only turn for a split second to grin at each other, their cheeks pink from sunburn, when they both hear the unmistakable sound of Isaac yelling “DAZAI!” with as much shock and disappointment he can muster before—

Well, before the sound of the crashing waves get to him.

She sees it in slow-motion, Isaac heading face-first into the ocean.

And then there is only a smug-looking Dazai—who has the audacity to say, “Oh no, are you okay, Ai-chan?”—before throwing the spare (now, apparently, rather purposefully-brought) towel onto Isaac’s dripping form. And it’s silly because they know, they saw, but they pretend they didn’t, she and Arthur rushing in to ask, “What happened?”, trying to not reveal the snicker rising up their throats.

Dazai’s version goes like this: Isaac had taken a misstep, because he wasn’t paying attention, and had tripped over Dazai’s foot, which caused Dazai to jolt and accidentally push Isaac into the just-cresting wave.

Isaac’s version goes like this: Dazai pushed him into the water.

And that’s how the four of them end up heading to the seaside shops nearby, Dazai “apologizing” by giving Isaac an Aloha shirt that greatly matches all of that which he had brought with him on the trip. (He gets her one too as an added excuse that it’s a “group souvenir.”)

When Isaac frowns at himself in the mirror, donning the green shirt adorned with pines and waves, bright yellows and browns and oranges—she comes up to him and says, “thank you for joining us,” which in Isaac speak already means all she wants him to know.

The way Isaac sighs is full of friendship.

They find a small shack nearby later to have some late lunch: local delicacies of chicken and shrimp. Dazai hums a song excitedly as he prepares to scarf down on his food, and the lovely owner of the small place points them to a nearby karaoke parlor—which was, coincidentally, empty of customers.

Isaac is just about to say “please don’t” when the three agree to go spend some time there before taking the walk back to the resort.

Dazai and Arthur sing love songs to each other so fervently it’s hard to figure out if they’re being serious or are just good actors. She belts out all her favorite songs until her throat feels hoarse. They even got Isaac to sing, much to his chagrin. The owners of the parlor were thoroughly amused. It is only five too many songs later, the sun about an hour from setting, when they begin to walk home.

The beachside here allows visitors to take shells they would like to pick up, but ask they only pick a reasonable amount of—well, one each person. So she’s walking with her head down, Dazai next to her, looking for her most precious single shell to take back with her to the university.

Arthur and Isaac are walking ahead of them, meters out of earshot. As she gets up from inspecting another shell on the beach—not quite what she wants yet—Dazai turns to her with a serious look on his face.

“How’s your head?”

She could pretend to not know what he meant about it—and, she had actually hit her head on a beam earlier, but only lightly—but there is no escaping when Dazai puts on that tone of his voice.

Instead, she answers, “Is this what this is all about?”

Dazai shrugs. “And if it is?”

“Then I love you,” she adds, to which Dazai grins. He pats her gently on top of the head before she crouches back down onto the sand, brushing away to reveal a white shell streaked with purple.

Dazai looks away from her and up to the wide horizon; the sun reflecting its orange light onto the water. “I really think you ought to talk to him about it.”

“I don’t know if I should,” she admits, clutching the shell in between her fingers, observing its shape. “I mean at this point, what else is there to say?”

“Do you not want to tell him about this?”

“No,” she says, rather surely. Even if she doesn’t know which this she is referring to.

Dazai remains quiet for only a moment. Just enough for her to take another look at the shell in her hand and put it back down onto the sand. She wants to take it with her but it doesn’t feel right, not this one. It feels like it belongs to the sea. She stands up and begins to walk once more. Dazai follows a step behind her.

“Isn’t it unfair that you want him to reach out to you but you’re not willing to do the opposite?”

“I—”

When Dazai calls out her name, she knows he is serious. He rarely calls out her name—and when they first met, it was because they kept forgetting each other’s names. Now, when the syllables of it fall out of Dazai’s mouth, she knows he is serious. Her heart feels tight, like it has curled instinctively into itself as a response.

She looks up at Dazai with a face like she’s pleading, begging, asking him to make it better.

And Dazai asks:

“Are you more scared of the uncertainty? Or the rejection?”

--

The four of them wake up early the following morning to catch the sunrise on their last day at the resort. It’s not much—the sun is on the wrong side—but there’s something about coffee (Arthur’s blend; a recipe he wouldn’t dare tell anyone) in the early morning while watching the sky turn blue. They share that quiet, companionable silence that’s nothing but comfort.

She’s a hundred percent sure that she’s going to miss this.

They stay only long enough to have breakfast and finish packing up before they all pile into the car and make the drive home. Arthur’s got full control of the AUX cord (“Boyfriend rights!” “You are not his boyfriend though?” “Basically-boyfriend rights!”) and they get to listen to him belt every single lyric out in the small, enclosed space. They arrive at the campus a bit past noon, and they have one last lunch together before they go their separate ways. Dazai drives them back to their places. And when he lifts her little duffel bag out of the trunk and handed it to her, he makes sure to give her a look.

The kind that said, “you know what you have to do; so stop being afraid of it.”

The truth is, she thinks, as she’s climbing up the stairs, she’s not that scared of doing it at all. She’s scared that it won’t mean the same to him as it does to her. That it will all hang in the balance and it will be worth more to her than it will be to him, and then they will be separated just like that.

So what is it? Is she scared that he will deny her? Or is she scared that she doesn’t know how he’ll react?

Theo is a great friend. Theo has always been a great friend. Sure, he’s been a little rough on the edges, and sure, maybe he was mean to her in the beginning, but—all those insightful conversations, all the time he didn’t hesitate in lending to her when she wanted company, wanted a friend… Theo has been nothing but good to her. Sure, they’ve had fights, and maybe they don’t agree in all the things, literary or otherwise, and maybe there were things she knows he can improve on but—

He has been good.

And she knows if she lets him, he will continue to be good to her.

She just doesn’t know if he wants to do it any longer.

Once she gets to her room she sorts her laundry into the proper baskets, and brings them downstairs to the coin laundry machines to run them. She spots the little hardbound e.e. cummings book on her counter and ignores it. She drops the clothes onto the machine and pours detergent, closes the lid, and lets it spin. When she gets back upstairs, she closes the door with a gentle click. Heads to her bedroom to take a nap while the machine runs and—

Finds the yellow dress she’d left behind while she was packing for the trip, the one she didn’t have the heart to wear. The one she didn’t want to.

But what does she have to lose now? When there are only days, only hours? And the words that are left unsaid only keep growing?

She checks the time on the clock on her wall. Thinks about what Dazai has told her. What the four days away from the only city she’s ever known has told her.

She takes another look at the yellow dress.

Thinks of him.

Thinks of the rooftop waiting for them.