#anyway. i need to procrastinate on a work related thing due in two days. so i'll probably be around.

[nuclearspring]

working on a new (more organized) pinned and maybe some fresh graphics (i say, as if there were ever any graphics in the first place). after that i'm thinking i'll track down what i owe.

[megagrind]

hmmm. i just took an art history course this past 15 week semester and it was the bane of my existance. but my major requires me to take two more of these classes in the next two years in order to get my degree

so instead of doing that, ill just take not one, but TWO art history courses at the same time, except they'll be crunched down to 5 weeks instead of 15. yes, thats a perfect solution to this problem that won't bring about any unwanted consequences :)

[inpizzawecrust]

“I Just Missed You”

After days of procrastination and hours of staring at blank parchment, Sirius was finally in somewhat of a groove—or as his friends called it The Zone—with his essay that was due in two days.

The Zone was a specific time when Sirius would be so intently doing his work that he wouldn’t be aware to anything around him. It could last anywhere from 5 minutes to 5 hours depending on how long it took for Sirius to complete his work.

It wasn’t that Sirius’ times in The Zone were infrequent and sporadic that caused him to be mercilessly teased by his friends, but rather how long it took him to get in a clear headspace to do his work.

Schoolwork had always come easy to Sirius, he rarely had to study before exams, but finding a way to focus long enough to complete an assignment was always a battle. Most of the times, he’d give up on finding the perfect accommodations that would help with creating The Zone and settle for being forced to do his assignment the night before they were due by one of his friends usually Remus.

But tonight was different.

He had a good day, one filled with laughter and small pranks, that by the time he entered the common room after dinner, he wasn’t jazzed with left over energy or depleted with exhaustion—he was content.

So he took the rare opportunity, settled in a corner at one of the tables, and pulled out the empty essay that had been burning a hole in his bag for the last week.

At first he didn’t know where to start and staring at the blank parchment, hoping the essay would write itself, seemed like the only option.

When he got tired of that, he finally began and eventually fell right into the topic, which was a surprise given that he dreaded anything potions related.

Just as his left hand paused to dip the quill back in the inkwell, his hand was moved. Sirius blinked and could practically feel The Zone leave his body as he moved his head.

But before Sirius had a chance to register who had disrupted his peace (and cause a scene for someone doing such a thing when he had spent such a long time struggling to focus) the one person Sirius could never bring himself to get truly mad at, sat on his lap and clung to him like—what were those muggle animals, koalas?

As the tall boy burrowed his face in Sirius’ chest—the entire nature of them squeezing into the small chair had Sirius momentarily questioning how they folded themselves up like an accordion—Sirius smiled and wrapped his arms around the body.

“Alright, my love?” Sirius whispered before gently kissing the top of the head of brown curls.

Remus mumbled something into Sirius’ chest and though Sirius had no way of hearing it, he rubbed his boyfriend’s back anyway.

For a moment, Sirius closed his eyes as he comforted Remus. He didn’t have the slightest idea what Remus needed or why he needed it at that moment, but Sirius didn’t need to know right away. All he needed was for Remus to know that he wasn’t going anywhere and that Remus was loved. They’d sort the rest out later, just like they always did.

Sirius gently kissed Remus’ temple as he opened his eyes, his hand still slowly moving up and down Remus’ back in circular motions.

“Do you need me now, or are you alright for twenty minutes so I can finish writing?” Sirius softly spoke, his left hand moving through the brown hair.

“Don’t stop your work for me,” Remus thickly spoke as he moved his head to the crook of Sirius’ neck.

Sirius smiled at Remus’ words. He wasn’t fluent in Remus Lupin if he didn’t know that was code for ‘I need you now, but I don’t know how to admit it.’

He sat up slightly and removed his hand from Remus’ hair to reach for his wand. He cleaned up his belongings with a spell before slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“What are you d—Sirius, you’re going to drop me!” Remus hissed as Sirius readjusted his arms before standing up.

But he didn’t drop Remus—he’d never drop him—and instead moved his way to the stairs as though carrying his boyfriend, who was easily two heads taller, was a normal occurrence for a Thursday evening.

Sirius dropped his bag to the floor once the door of the dormitory shut behind them and made his way to his own bed—it was far more comfortable than Remus’. He gently set Remus on the bed and chuckled at the small protest that had ensued as he quickly changed.

Shirtless and only having pants on, Sirius climbed into the bed and before he even had the chance to pull the hair tie from his hair and get properly settled, Remus crawled over.

A grin formed on Sirius’ face as Remus firmly rested his head on Sirius’ bare chest and pulled the large duvet over them before bringing his cold hands to Sirius’ back, his nails just barely scratching gently at the skin.

Sirius sighed in content and pulled back the duvet just enough to cause Remus to look up.

“Feeling better?” Sirius smiled as he looked down.

Remus nodded and leaned up, causing Sirius to laugh as he leaned down to give Remus a kiss. They pulled apart and Remus went back to Sirius’ chest, his eyes slowly closing as Sirius brought a hand through his hair.

“Are we gonna talk about what’s wrong or are you saving it for another day?” Sirius whispered after a while.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Remus responded with a yawn, his words stringing together from exhaustion. “I just missed you.”

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

A Miraculous TikTok Account

Part 1/57, 97.7k words

Next

I was like “hey brain I’d love to do a shitpost social media au” and then it was like r e w r i t e m i r a c u l o u s

I don’t even know if it really even counts as miraculous anymore so much has changed god damn it --

Rena Rouge had never been so excited for anything in her life.

Of course, at first glance people would find that insane. She was going to a meeting, after all.

But it was the people that were also attending that had her practically vibrating she was so excited.

All the heroes of Paris were to be gathered under Master Fu’s orders. They hardly ever worked together, so having all four (five, including her, she reminded herself) together was pretty much a once-in-a-lifetime event. She wished she was still a reporter, this was the kind of thing she would have killed to report on back in the day…

Still, a part of her had to wonder why exactly they were all there. Master Fu had been vague when he’d called. She had some theories, of course, but all this waiting was starting to shift her excitement into nerves. She attempted to smooth out her tail, but ended up just tucking it under herself to hide her anxiety. Maybe she shouldn’t have come so early.

The first person to show up after her was Carapace. He’d poked his head through the door, the hood of his sleeveless hoodie pulled so low over his face that it partially hid his face. Then he broke into a wide smile and pushed the hood up a little to show the green glint of his mask. He made his way inside and took a seat next to her.

“Salu -- Bonjour!” His confident smile melted into an uncomfortable one. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Salut,” she said, not wanting him to feel awkward.

Besides, that was kind of his whole shtick. Carapace was the relatable hero, the one you could vent about your problems to.

(Well, technically you could vent to all of Paris’s heroes, they didn’t mind… but Carapace was the only one that felt close enough to actually try it with.)

Silence lapsed between them as they sat there. She tried to remember whether she had met him as Rena Rouge or not and he seemed unsure whether she wanted to talk, but they were distracted from their thoughts when Chloe walked into the room.

Chloe just kind of… does that. If Carapace was the personable one, Chloe was the one who felt the most unreachable. She was open about her persona, had to be after everyone found out about it, and exactly how relatable can a mayor’s daughter be? She’d leaned into it, though, opting for golden jewelry and wings that glinted in the light.

Neither of the present heroes said anything to Chloe, and Chloe didn’t acknowledge them.

Was it rude? Technically. But what else were they supposed to do? Chloe had made it clear a week ago that she didn’t like them. There’s no good conversation that can come after you get shit-talked on live tv.

The last person to be on time was Chat Noir. The original hero. He gave them a smile worthy of a model as he slipped inside. “Bonjour.”

“Bonjour,” said Rena and Carapace, and even Chloe gave a quiet hum of acknowledgement.

The leather of his black suit made a high-pitched squeaking sound against the chair when he sat down that made both him and Rena’s hair stand on end (literally).

Master Fu walked in to find Carapace trying to soothe two very frazzled miraculous holders and Chloe ignoring them on her phone.

He sighed and gently rapped his cane on the ground.

Instantly, the room quieted. Chat and Rena snapped out of their shock.

“Bonjour,” chorused everyone.

He smiled tensely. “Bonjour. Where’s Ladybug?”

“Not here yet,” said Chloe. She set her phone down on the table and crossed her arms over her chest. “There’s nothing in the papers, either.”

Master Fu nodded a little bit and took a seat at the head of the table. “We can wait for her. There’s no rush.”

Carapace hesitated before raising his hand. “There’s… a bit of a rush. I was procrastinating a college app and it’s due tonight…”

“It shouldn’t be long,” said Master Fu.

This was true. About five minutes later Ladybug burst into the room, panting softly. “Bon… jour...”

“Thanks for finally showing up,” said Chloe.

No one knew for sure, because Ladybug’s eyes were completely white, but they got the feeling that she was rolling her eyes.

“There was an akuma.”

“Really? There was nothing on the news…” said Rena, genuinely confused, but she trailed off when she realized that maybe getting one of your childhood heroes in trouble was a bad idea if you wanted to have a good relationship with said childhood hero.

Thankfully, Ladybug didn’t seem all that annoyed. “That’s because the news anchor and her crew got swallowed by it before they could get any information out. Anyways, it’s dealt with.”

With that, Ladybug took a seat in the last open chair. There was a beat as she smoothed out the red and black folds of her dress and then she crossed her legs and smiled at everyone.

Master Fu sighed and shook his head, slowly placing his cane in his lap.

“Now that everyone is here, would anyone like to guess why?”

The heroes of Paris stiffened a little bit. That sounded a lot like they were in trouble. They didn’t want to be in trouble.

Rena slowly raised her hand. “Is it… because of what Queen Bee said last week?”

The heroes’ expressions soured a bit at the memory. The video of Chloe trash talking all of them to an interviewer had blown up, and now they could hardly do anything without having at least one reporter hounding them for a response.

None of them could give any, though Rena was sure at least some of them were tempted. The public was supposed to think them all friends, or at worst friendly coworkers. It gave them hope, seeing them all working together for team ups, and analyzing their friendship dynamics kept them relatively distracted from the fact that it had been six years since the first hero had first arrived on the scene and they still had virtually nothing on Hawkmoth.

But now that illusion had been shattered (and trust her, she knew a lot about illusions). Akumas had been more active this week.

“That’s precisely it. Thank you, Rena.” Master Fu regarded them all carefully. “What do you think we should do about it?”

Really, they’d had no clue what to do about their image.

Chloe hadn’t been joking, she’d made that plainly obvious, so saying she didn’t mean it or that was just the type of friendship they had wasn’t going to work…

“Act more like friends…?” Said Ladybug when no one spoke up.

Master Fu nodded.

“Oh, so more team ups or something?” Said Chat.

Carapace shrugged. “Don’t know how much of that I can do, since I’m the only one that can consistently get in the water, but…” He shrugged again. “... sure, I can do that.”

The old man drummed his fingers on the table lightly to bring their attention back to him.

“Yes, that, too, but I was thinking something more… convincing.”

Rena decided that she definitely didn’t like the way his eyes gleamed.

“So, until you manage to defeat Hawkmoth, you will all be living together.”

Everyone opened their mouths to argue but he held up a hand to silence them.

“And you’ll be doing it publicly, posting regular content about it to a social media platform of your choosing…”  He put his hand down. “Now you can complain.”

The teens all immediately started attempting to talk over each other, their voices steadily increasing in volume as they tried to be the one to get their complaints heard.

Rena was silent. Part of her thought that she should be complaining. She had siblings, after all, she had a life outside of heroism… but she couldn’t help but smile. She would be living with her childhood heroes (for a long time, probably, because the Hawkmoth situation was not getting better)! And, really, her sisters could get annoying at times. She’d love an excuse to get away.

So instead of arguing she leaned back in her chair and watched everyone else.

Chloe was the most passionate about it, her jewelry flashing with every wild swing of her hand. Her voice was the loudest, but with the other voices in the room and the fact that she was literally buzzing in her anger it was hard to make out what she was saying.

Chat seemed distressed and Rena could see his mouth saying “I don’t think I’d be allowed to” repeatedly even if she couldn’t hear him over Chloe’s screeching.

Carapace’s face was set in an uncharacteristic frown as he complained. Sure, of those voicing their complaints, he definitely seemed the most relaxed, but the fact that he was frowning was in itself proof of just how upset he really was.

Ladybug was quiet, though she didn’t look particularly happy about it. Her lips were pressed into a thin line as if she was holding herself back from yelling as well and her fingers worried at the hem of her dress.

After a minute of this, Master Fu raised his hands for silence and instantly got it once again.

“Are you done?”

The general consensus was ‘no’, if the looks on their faces meant anything, but they nodded anyways.

“Good. Chat Noir, I’ve already worked everything out with your dad, we’ll discuss it more after the meeting is over.”

Chat relaxed a bit.

“Carapace, your schooling will not be affected. In fact, you’ll likely have a better college experience since all your food and toiletries will be paid for by me.”

Carapace’s expression shifted to a thoughtful one as he considered this.

“Queen Bee, must I remind you of the fact that you’re on thin ice as it is?”

Everyone’s eyes shot to Chloe, who had paled considerably. Her angry buzzing quickly lowered to a dull hum and she settled back into her seat.

Master Fu seemed sated by this, and he looked at Ladybug and Rena.

“And I’m assuming I don’t need to convince either of you?”

Rena shook her head instantly. Ladybug took her time to consider, but eventually shook her head as well.

“Great. Now, shall we talk logistics?”

~~~

Taglist:

@nathleigh @mialuvscats

[logically-asexual]

okay i'm already procrastinating and i don't plan on sleeping any time soon so here we go.

☆ ✩ my personal ranking for every season 1 Sanders Sides episode. ✩ ☆

i think it's going to be pretty similar to @dukeofonions' but let's see if i find something new to contribute haha. i see you didn't include that one about Patton in the Big Game or whatever, so i'm not including it either xd. also i think i'm going to count Accepting Anxiety as one episode only.

edit: i finished and now i dare you to drink a shot of water every time i say the word spanish or a version of the word comfort and become very well hydrated.

#16 I'm in a Disney Show

(i agree with dukeofonions here) i always forget this episode exists. it was ok in terms of being happy for real life Thomas but as a Sanders Sides episode it didn't do anything. the sides were just giving their opinions but it wasn't very funny or interesting. also i'm bitter because it made me look up the episode he was in and i didn't like it at all. i don't know if i'm too old for those Disney shows now but Thomas was literally the only good part of it, everything else was really dull and boring imo. a waste of time.

however, Logan supporting clickbait is one of the funniest things ever, and i'll never forget it.

#15 Becoming A Cartoon

i didn't hate this episode but it was just .. meh.. you know? several factors contribute to this. one, i couldn't feel much nostalgia for Butch Hartman's shows because i watched them in Spanish, and everything feels really weird when they speak English, i don't like how my old cartoons sound in English. two, it was disappointing to me because we were all desperately waiting for Plot™ and instead they give us this short episode about nothing (oh how the tables have turned now it's the other way around haha). and three, i didn't like the style of the animation :/ their faces and expressions freaked me out, Roman's douchey face still haunts me.

#14 Way Too Adult

here i'm biased because i don't like Patton much, and i didn't back when i watched the series the first time either, so this video was a little disappointingwithout the rest. also it wasn't relatable to me because i am still too young and dependent on my parents haha. but Patton is funny and it's funny to laugh at Thomas' struggling.

#13 The Dark Side of Disney

i've never been a fan of Disney movies. i actually never watched Mulan or the Lion King or Aladdin as a kid, so meh. i liked the ending, though, it was cool to see Virgil have fun and be right for once. it does make me a bit uncomfortable because the way Thomas tries too hard with Virgil's mouth movements and his low voice reminds me of a guy that had made me v uncomfortable not long before watching that video. so an icky feel overall.

#12 A New Year of Lying to Myself

this video was actually kind of fogettable to me. i had a hard time connecting the voices in the song to the characters and idk. i don't love it nor hate it, just .. neutral.

#11 My True Identity

pretty much the same opinion as dukeofonions, again. it's a good introduction and it's good that it was the beginning of it all but on its own it's not very special. i think it's awesome on Thomas to have come up with such a clever idea, like choosing the dad, the teacher and the prince and putting them together and match them with thoughts?? that fit so perfectly?? it really is just very impressive when you think about it, that it was just a random idea he had for a short 5 minute video.

#10 Taking on Anxiety

i liked this video a lot because when i watched it i had recently been a lot on tumblr, and found out through relatable posts that i had anxiety. so watching this video was really fun and it made me happy to feel so seen, specially the intro when Thomas just talks about what it's like to have Anxiety and Virgil is so smug about it.

- ★ -

okay now that those are out of the way things are going to get hard... all the following i love with all my heart so i'm going to rank them based on the smallest things.

#9 Growing Up

once more, Patton isn't my favorite. so that's why i'm putting this here, plus the echo at the end askjhsahg, but i love love this video. i remember we were waiting and oh so ready for the angst of nobody taking Patton seriously. and we received!! i love that though Roman and Logan are antagonists here, they're both so happy about Thomas wanting to have a healthy life. and i just adore the way Logan admits his mistake at the end and asks Patton directly. my heart... also aw.. the nostalgia. i remember none of us knew how to spell Patton's name and were writing it in very funny ways until Thomas and Joan told us lol.

#8 The Mind vs The Heart

when i watched this video the first times i didn't like it much, because i only had eyes for Virgil, but later i came back to it and loved it. so taking that into account i'm putting it here. logicality was the first ship i ever shipped in the show because i saw a gifset on tumblr of Patton screaming "what do you know about love?!" and Logan "apparently more than YOU" and the caption said "MARRIED", and i thought hey yeah... anyway. i love them. they're both my dads since that day.

this video is so so so relatable and i love it. Logan and Patton are so much fun arguing and i love how they compromise at the end and work together. im reconsidering.. i might move it higher? no, fine i'll leave it here.

#7 Making Some Changes

this video was absolutely hilarious. i personally couldn't see it as the Sides still once they were acted by Thomas' friends, i enjoyed it more as that bunch being silly and trying to be the sides but failing in so many ways, while sometimes nailing stuff suddenly. i really don't take this one too seriously as an episode. except Joan!Logan and Valerie!Logan, my beloved... i love how Joan acted as Logan and their voice and that they kept their ace ring on.. there's a reason i had them as my icon for so long. and Valerie looks a bit (a lot) like me with the glasses and dressed in dark colors, plus she spoke Spanish and there's .. no words to describe the joy i felt when seeing/hearing that. wait i'm getting emotional...

#6 My Personality Q&A

when i watched this Virgil was my favorite side and i didn't care much about the rest lol. when i heard his answers i related to him SO much it was scary, and also his voice is so soft and it was all very comforting. it was also when i first starting looking at Logan with more attention, because when he brought up Big Hero 6 and Fall Out Boy and said he didn't sing and would recite it like a poem? it only took a couple seconds but my brain said "me" and never went back.

now this video is a little underwhelming to watch for me, most of the appeal for me was in finding out the answers, and also watching it when we didn't know a lot about the sides. now we know more and want to know more so it's not as fun to me as it was first.

i wish so bad they'd do another one, although i know it would be more difficult with a much bigger audience, i think they can manage and i just need it. the chaos.. the energy.. they all being so savage with each other, learning little random facts about them you didn't expect.. i need it.

- ★ -

oh boy top 5 here we go. the next three are practically a tie. i can't choose.

#5 Alone on Valentines Day

i love Valerie, and the idea of this video was perfect and so perfectly excecuted. every side just giving their crazy opinions on how to woo a random stranger, i laughed SO much. first with Logan speaking simlish out of nowhere? at that point i didn't know practically anything about the sims except that it was some video game and the whiplash of Logan going AYO and the rest killed me. then when Roman whipped out that dialogue in Spanish??? my life was completed. i've never felt more happy than i did in that moment gosh. just the hilarity of Roman's drama, the shock of them speaking Spanish suddenly like that, the absolute JOY of seeing a creator i like speak (may i say) perfect Spanish, the other characters' faces after that.. never been happier.

also the conclusion was so cute. Virgil solving the whole problem without wanting to. i loved it.

#4 Am I Original

i think this video speaks for itself. it was fun to watch them all do the ideas Roman had, plus Logan and Virgil nodding at each other, (i love them so much), plus the angst at the end of Roman's perfectionism, plus Roman's just perfect name. this video has it all.

i think Thomas posted it kind of late at night and i watched it at 7am in the classroom as i waited for my classmates to arrive and the class to start. (i usually was like 40 minutes early to school due to mom’s work). i had to contain my laughter and it wasn’t easy.

#3 Losing My Motivation

i started loving this video after a while, when Logan passed Virgil in the position for my favorite side. but once he did this episode was beautiful. it's so funny and i love Logan and Patton's dynamic so much. and the video also so damn relatable in general. i felt so seen with it because they named all the problems i have when procrastinating, down to Patton's vague explanation of his feelings, it's exactly how i feel every time i want to do stuff. and the plot twist! i can hear the dramatic sound effect and see how they all turn to Logan clearly in my head, and it always makes me smile. plus there's so much Logan angst that can be dug up and overanalized. i love to watch it over and over.

#2 Accepting Anxiety

this video was perfect. everything we wanted. we knew it was coming and it delivered perfectly, better than any fanfic done in the waiting time. the week between the parts was agonizing but in a fun way somehow. i remember precisely when i was watching part 2 in my living room. i screamed. and i cried, a lot. i was feeling terrible at that time in my life and Thomas was such a comforting presence and i can't begin to describe how this episode made me feel.

and later it is always fun to rewatch with all their different reactions to being in Virgil's room, the energy of that was on point. Thomas is such a great actor and the characters where just amazingly performed. plus it gave so much to talk adn think about, the idea of the rooms, lots lots of insight into the characters, foreshadowing, so much. it's just perfect i have nothing else to say.

#1 (for purely emotional reasons, ironically) My Negative Thinking

i think Accepting Anxiety is the best episode of the season objectively but my favorite is My Negative Thinking. because i love Virgil and Logan so much and seeing them argue together was and is great. the comfort.. i can't repeat that word enough throughout this post. it's such a soft video while not being overwhelming with Patton and Roman's outbursts. just quiet (mostly) and clear and with perfectly timed humour.

Logan my beloved.. learning spanish... helping me with my own anxiety.. and their debate was so good. and the fact that they were friends i- i can't. Virgil didn't think Logan liked him and Logan told him explicitly that he did and the casual softness of it i cant even. Logan is happy that he tried.. it's just marvelous. Virgil and Logan as best friends will always be my favorite pair, and their dynamic will always be what i strive for in any relationship i might form, with both sides silently comforting each other within their own limits and realistic perspectives. so nice.

- ★ -

so yeah. that's all. thank you if you read all the way up to here. ♡ ♡ ♡

[muffinapologist]

Birthday Cake

On A03

warnings: moralitwins, platonic demus, platonic logicality, platonic loceit, graphic depictions of baking cakes, mental breakdowns. angst and fluff.

When it comes to ‘birthdays’ Janus is more inclined to agree with Logan. As sides of one personality they don’t truly have birthdays. Their birthdays, like the rest of them, were constructs. Closer to anniversaries than actual birthdays. No real reason to celebrate.

No reason to get all depressed and angsty when one spends it alone.

February 3rd, the anniversary of when Janus started appearing in Thomas’s videos. The anniversary of when the man first became aware of the deceitful side.

This would be his third year celebrating such a date as his ‘birthday’. So, really, it isn’t too much of a shock to the system for it to also be the first year since then that he’s spending February 3rd alone. Two years in a row is hardly a tradition make.

Not like before, celebrating June 6, as close to a real birthday as anything could be for a side. The day he first formed. He remembers it more clearly than a side like Logan, or Virgil would. Because he wasn’t formed over months and years. It had happened rather suddenly, actually.

But there was no need to reminisce over lost childhood. It has been decades (nearly plural). And Janus isn’t about to spend his day sentimental over spilled batter and the sound of bubbling laughter.

Nor will he spend it mourning the loss of hands over his eyes--scratchy material of long sleeves against his nails--that warm and familiar obnoxiously flamboyant voice declaring “happy birthday Janny”. Over the reveal of some monstrous cake that absolutely did not taste delicious anyway.

So what if he and Patton didn’t celebrate the same birthday anymore?

So what if the ‘light’ sides abhorred his existence? (well, with the exception of Logan who insisted he was neutral)

So what if Remus was a bit sour over being used for Janus’s plans?

It is what it is. Janus does not feel sorry, he does not regret anything. He got what he wanted. He got his seat at the table.

Today is a day like any other. Not a birthday. His birthday is June 6th . He doesn’t have a birthday.

He doesn’t need to be on good terms with his brother; Patton is willing to work with him and that’s all Janus needs to gain a foothold. He doesn’t need the friendship of the lightsides. Remus will forgive him eventually.

Lies come easily to Janus, always have. He lies to the others, he lies to Thomas, and he lies to himself. He tells himself these lies on a loop the moment he realizes Remus isn’t going to even say ‘hi’ let alone his usual insistent celebration.

(and Janus has always wondered, how the others had so easily forgotten that aspect to Remus; the loyalty, the love. Perhaps his way of showing it was a tad… disgusting. But he had somehow found a way to love Janus for all his faults.)

Janus lies to himself and insists that it is not at all significant that he’d done something bad enough to drive even Remus away.

At some point he convinces himself he needs cake. That's what’s missing. All this birthday nonsense has given him a craving , that’s all. So what if Remus wasn’t here to make one? Janus could do it on his own. He was an adult, perfectly capable of baking a simple pastry.

He lands on the page in their old cookbook for a ‘funfetti’ cake (a plain vanilla cake recipe with additional instructions scribbled over it in blue crayon) and tells himself he selects it for its simplicity.

It absolutely does not fill him with a hollow longing feeling.

“Don’t stir so fast it’s going to--”

The warning does not come nearly soon enough to stop the enthusiastic over-stirring that causes cake batter to splash everywhere.

Patton halts, gives him a lopsided sheepish smile “sorry Jan”

“S’okay Patt. You know what they say; no use in crying over spilt batter.”

“Isn’t it spilt milk?”

“No, i’m certain the saying is batter.”

When Janus feels his eyes sting he tells himself it’s the sun in his eyes, and he closes the kitchen’s blinds to block out some of the light.

Cakes are simple, really. Straightforward. Eggs, flour, sugar, butter, baking powder.

Rainbow sprinkles.

Sometimes Janus wonders if that’s why he struggles so much with baking, straightforward is against his nature. The batter looks wrong, he can already tell it won’t turn out. But he pours it into a greased cake tin regardless. Because the longer he spends on this endeavor the longer he can pretend that his problem is a lack of cake.

“What is that monstrosity?” Janus asks, with exasperated fondness.

“Cake!” Remus declares proudly, as if not sensing the disgust in the other’s tone (or possibly simply preening at it)

“It looks like something’s already eaten it”

“Aww, thank you Janny!”

“Do I have to eat this?”

“Yes” a pause and an eyeroll “Don’t be dramatic snakey, it’s all decoration. It’s a real cake underneath.”

“Thank you Remus”

“Happy birthday Jan”

Janus decides it’s a bit too pathetic, even in his current state, to watch the cake baking in the oven. So he preoccupies himself with cleaning up the preparations. Slowly, because the sooner he finishes the sooner he has nothing to do and he cannot be left with his thoughts right now.

It doesn’t matter, no matter how he stretches it out, he can’t possibly clean for the entire duration of the cake’s cooking time. So he makes frosting. Something he wasn’t originally planning on bothering doing. But you know what they say about idle hands...well, something or other about the devil.

Mixing frosting is also straightforward. Softened butter, milk, vanilla, confectioner's sugar.

Rainbow sprinkles.

“The sprinkles go on the frosting, not in it.”

“But there’s even more sprinkles if we do it both ways. Besides, it’s our recipe. We can make it however we want right?”

“Careful Patt, you’re turning into a rebel.”

Patton sputters and Janus laughs.

The frosting turns out better than the cake, slightly lumpy but speckled with color. Janus covers the bowl with cling wrap and sets it in the fridge while the cake cools on the counter.

Baked, the cake doesn’t look so bad. Although it does fall apart as Janus removes it from the tin. Distantly, he remembers some baking show Thomas watched-while extremely bored and procrastinating- had mentioned to wait for the cake to cool before removing it from the tin. But it’s too late now. He can always plaster the pieces together with frosting later.

No one other than Janus himself is going to see the cake anyway, who cares if it’s ugly as sin?

Janus does have enough sense, however, not to attempt any frosting related reconstruction while the cake is still hot. Cleaning up the mess from making the frosting doesn’t take very long, especially since he can’t clean out the bowl just yet. (he is able to clean out the cake tin but due to the baking spray there’s not much to scrub and he’s done in minutes)

“Happy birthday,” Logan-still called Curiosity rather than Logic at that time-holds out a poorly wrapped gift, one for each of the twins. One with yellow paper and the other with blue.

Janus briefly considers not opening his at all, even with the lack of skill it’s probably the prettiest gift he’s ever seen.

But Patton rips into his and soon Janus gives in as well.

“Thank you Lo,” Patton jumps with excitement and wraps his arms around the Curious side. Janus repeats the sentiment, with only marginally less enthusiasm.

It’s just the three of them for right now. A happy little family on June 6th.

Patton would have celebrated his birthday on January 15th this year, Janus’s mind supplies without permission and without warning, just as he had for the past five years. He wonders, before he can stop himself from doing so, if Patton ever feels the same sense of wrongness on January 15th as Janus feels on February 3rd.

Unlikely. Patton seemed perfectly content to forget that he has a twin.

That was their long standing lie. One that still joined them together as equal participants. Patton was morality and Janus was deceit and that was that. Nothing more to see here folks. Move right along.

He doesn’t know how much time has passed, and the cake on the counter is still warm to the touch, but Janus figures that not losing his sanity further is worth some melted frosting; so he starts piling it on anyway. When it melts and slides off he just layers more on.

The benefit to this-objectively awful-approach is that it requires three times the amount of time than frosting a cake like a competent person would. As far as Janus is concerned, the more wasted time the better. The closer the clock ticks to February 4th the closer he is to being relieved from his not-birthday.

No amount of decorations can save the cake at this point, but Janus tops it with more rainbow sprinkles anyway. Because it’s what Patton would have done. Because it’s something to do to take up a little more time.

When it’s finished, though; when Janus has cut himself a piece, setting it on the counter; it doesn’t get tasted. Ofcourse, Janus had known from the beginning that he wasn’t really craving cake. That he didn’t even particularly like sweets, and the only reason he associated cake with birthdays was because people always insisted he partake.

And it wasn’t cake that made those moments sweet.

It’s a good thing he’s alone, Janus tells himself, when he stares at the drooping, crumbling cake and thinks ‘well isn’t that just a metaphor for my entire existence’ and can no longer hold back tears.

So much for Patton being the cry baby.

“Oh”

The sudden sound of someone else’s voice most certainly does not make Janus jump.

Patton looks a bit awkward, clutching a plate with an equally disastrous looking cake on top. White with rainbow sprinkles. Funfetti. Janus has just enough awareness to flush with embarrassment and wipe the tears from his cheeks.

He clears his throat and straightens his cape slightly. “Can I help you?”

Patton opens his mouth to say something, then closes it again. He appears to be thinking really hard about something and Janus is about to say something about not needing pity when Patton finally speaks;

“I miss spending our birthday together.”

“It’s not our birthday,” comes Janus’s immediate reply.

“I know.” Patton replies.

They stare at each other a moment longer before Janus motions for Patton to take a seat at the counter. The father figure does, and the reptilian side slides his untouched piece of cake towards the other. Patton gives him a slice of his own cake, and both twins eat in silence for a moment.

Janus cuts through the silence this time, with a sly grin “Patt, this is the worst cake I’ve ever tasted.”

“Really? Because I think yours is pretty good,” Patton replies. “In fact, I think it’s maybe the best cake i’ve ever had.”

Janus gives him a skeptical look, but digs his fork into the remains of the cake he baked to taste it. The frosting is grainy and off-putting and the cake is crumbly and dry and he barely avoids coughing afterwards. “You’re getting better at lying.”

“I learned from the best,” Patton jokes back. “But I mean it. I think it’s the best cake i’ve ever had. It tastes like...not being alone anymore.”

“That’s a lot to put on a cake.” Janus retorts. He’s never been especially good with sentimentality.

Patton just shrugs in response.

“Hey Patt?”

“Yeah Jan?”

“On June 6th let’s just order a cake.”

Patton gives a snort-laugh hybrid. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best.”

-----

When Janus knocks he’s somewhat surprised he even gets an answer. He supposes it shouldn’t be surprising, Remus may be mad at him but he’s not cruel. Still, the creative side glares at him.

“What?”

Janus holds the road-kill esque funfetti cake out to Remus. His best friend. “I’m sorry, Re. I…”

He’s not good with apologies, either, but apparently, that’s enough; because he’s pulled into an immediate-sticky-hug.

“Happy birthday Janny.”

[thiswasinevitableid]

I had a terrible thought. I want to preface this by saying that I have a difficult time starting new fics when I finish one that I love, even if I’m excited to read it. After reading Metamorphosis, it was difficult to start Falling, and now I am having a similar issue with M&M. Though I enjoy it already and am rooting for the couples! This made me think of reincarnation aus. What if Indrid knew Duck’s soul in a previous life of the latter, but after losing him had to go on?

In addition, Indrid is overjoyed when he realizes he’s finally found Duck again?

Apparently, I’m in a “what if” mood? I was thinking about how Indrid views so many timelines, the way Garnet does. How you mentioned in various parts of the Falling series. What if Duck does follow the “canonical” path, right up until he’s about to leave for Brazil? Indrid living their life through visions of what could have been? BUT THEN, because I can’t stand sad endings, Duck suddenly regains his memories(via your personal choice of magical means) and....(ran out of space)

Okay, so this is wild: A week ago, I was thinking about how I’d do a soulmates/Reincarnation story, because those AUs are not my jam but I was procrastinating (side note: I too struggle to move from one story to another when I read; your brain has to finish the rinse cycle on the universe you were in before starting on the next one)

Behind the cut for angst (with a happy ending) and, perhaps obviously, mentions of death. The fics I reference (for those who spot them) do not, canonically, relate to each other like this but since we’re playing “what if?...

Indrid Cold hangs up the phone.

See you tomorrow?

Is that all he could really think of? But then again, Leo had been in danger prior to that and the whole tree mess is wrecking havoc on his mind. But then again, what could he have said.

Over a century ago, in another life, you hunted me when all my failures turned me to self interest?

Nearly a century ago, I told fortunes in dusty tents and lifted heavy things for their amusement?

As soon as I heard your voice, I knew it was you?

He shakes his head; maybe he’s wrong. Maybe Duck isn’t the man he has loved and lost twice over in his time on earth. Maybe his intuition and visions are wrong.

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

They’re not wrong. This helps him very little. Because while he remembers, Duck does not. He watches the disgust on his face at the state of the trailer, the fear when he removes his glasses.

Yes, the mess has gotten rather bad. But the first time we met was in a cave.

Please don’t be afraid of me. Please remember all the times you lay in these spindly arms, wrapped in my wings.

Please remember.

Duck saving Billy is so familiar. So like him, and when Indrid sees the argument between him and Minerva play out in the futures hes awash with pride. Stubborn and kind, not nearly as bloodthirsty as fate wishes him to be.

Strong too, if the punch is any indication. 

“I’m gonna save the Mothman.”

You remember. Some part of you remembers. You thought to save me before anything.

“That’s the whole tourism industry of Point Pleasant right there.”

Well, fuck me I guess.

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

He sits in the trailer for a week after the tree is destroyed. There are futures where Duck comes to apologize, to check on him, to ask for his help.

No matter how many times he plays them over, they do not materialize.

He can’t force the issue. He can’t. He can’t bring himself to go see Duck. The last time, while he never remembered, he seemed as drawn to Indrid as Indrid was to him, their loving blooming naturally as they traveled together.

Duck Newton has fought fate all his life. He’s been hounded to take up a destiny he did not want. Indrid will not be another voice yammering about fate and destiny in his ear. The man he loved, the man he could easily love again, deserves better.

He starts the trailer, and pulls away from the forest.

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

The images of the end play out, over and over, as he drives. He tries to drown them out with the timelines he cherishes that never came to be; Duck falling asleep in his arms, Duck kissing him in the snow, Duck seeking him out when everything went to hell.

“It could use some work.”

I will not allow the Quell to take you. Even if you never remember me, never love me, are never even my friend.

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

His wings ache, still sore from where something bit them during the fight. He’s staying at the Lodge while the Bago gets repaired (a Quell Rhino went straight through it). Outside he hears Duck laughing, Minivera’s booming laugh underscoring it.

I really did not see that one coming.

Duck is excited for Brazil. He is excited to be with Minerva. He is excited for his future, and Indrid would never, ever, ever take that from him.

“I do not wish to be apart from you. My life has more color, more substance, more futures in it when I am with you. I love you, and I want to stay by your side for as long as you’ll have me. You seem to feel the same about me and wish me to stay. I’m proposing a way that can be true.”

“You’re askin' me to marry you?” Indrid gives the smallest nod as confirmation. His lover turns the ring over in his fingers.

“Well?” Indrids' voice is soft, shy, unsure.

“Mr. Cold, I do believe I’ll accept your proposal.” He slips the ring onto his finger, holds up his hand and watches Indrid slump forward on the table in relief.

Two out of three meetings lead to love, that is more than he could ever dreamed of.

 “Is that what you’d like? For me to carry you away?” Indrid brushes their noses together.

 “So goddamn much.” The strong-man closes the half-inch between them. It’s as gentle and as tender as first kiss ought to be, their lips learning the shape of each other and teasing at the promise of more.

 When Indrid pulls back, pressing their joined hands to his cheek, he whispers, “simply say the word, and it will be so.”

He can’t go back to Sylvain. What good is a seer who can’t let go of the past?

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

“Indrid? Oh, there you are buddy.” Duck grins at him, setting the box down on the small table in the trailer, “this was stuff they had to move when they were fixin’ it. Didn’t want to chuck it without lettin’ you look through it.”

“Thank you, Duck.” Indrid begins emptying the box, and Duck helps him, setting things in to neat piles.

“Are you excited for your journey?”

“Uh. Yeah, uh, hell, fuck, hell yeah.”

Indrid looks at him, worried.

“I’m havin’ second thoughts. And Minnie and I done nothin’ but fight the last three days.”

“All couples do, I am told.”

“Yeah but this, these feel like bigger fights. Things we need to hash out before we move to totally new fuckin continent.”

“Perhaps you can defer your work? That would give you time to work things out.”

“Ain’t sure that’s a--shit!” The sketchbook turns out to be a stack of loose papers, and they tumble from Duck’s hands. The ranger kneels down along with Indrid, and as they gather them up, Duck’s hands slow.

“Indrid? Why are these all of me?”

With horror, he sees the futures that did not come to pass, but that he drew anyway so he could look at them, held in Duck’s hands.

“They, ah, they were just futures. You must have been having a busy day, or, or something.”

“Hold up, they ain’t just of me. Seems like there’s a lot of us, uh, together. Really together.” Duck blushes, setting aside a page in a hurry as Indrid wills the floor to open up and swallow him.

“As I said, just futures.”

“Futures you wanted?”

“I, ah, I...”

“Wait, how old is this one? Did you so somethin funny to the paper?” Duck holds up the brown and brittle page.

“Huh. That fella looks like me if I were, I dunno, dressin up like a cowboy.”

“Sheriff.” Indrid corrects softly, “that was sheriff Jake Ellis. I man I loved many, many years ago. As far as I can surmise, he is a past life of yours. There was another in between who I, ah, I also loved. Who was also you.”

“........What the fuck?”

“A reasonable reaction. You should go.”

“Wait, Indrid, why didn’t you say nothin?”

“Would you have honestly enjoyed someone saying ‘by the by, we were lovers in two of your past lives, I already feel myself growing attached to you, so please date me because this feels like fate?”

“Okay, fair point, I woulda hated that. Why not stick around then, be my friend, lemme get to know you?”

“You deserved better than my lurking in the shadows in hopes of you loving me.”

“Indrid-”

“Please leave.“ Indrid points to the door. Duck hesitates, then stands and exits the trailer, gait subdued.

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

Duck hears the sad chirring start as soon as the door shuts. He turns, heading into the woods. He needs some time to think.

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

It cant be

“Duck? Your, your flight, you missed it.” It’s been a month since he last saw the ranger.

“Yeah. And, uh, Minerva’s stayin with Leo for a bit. Had some things I wanted to sort out in Kepler before I did anythin’ else.”

“Please don’t tell me this is due to my drawings. I cannot bear the thought of you setting aside your life on the off-chance you might come to love me.”

Duck shifts side to side, “Are you at least willin to give me a chance?” He holds out his hand.

Indrid looks at the futures, but they’re too jumbled by his own indecision to be much help.

“Very well. Two months. If you still feel nothing more than friendship for me after that, please promise me you'll forget about me.”

Duck nods, takes his head, “Deal.”

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

Indrid yawns, pads into the living room still half-asleep. Waiting for him on the table is a vase of flowers and a mega-pack of fruit gushers, along with a note.

Happy six months, darlin. See you tonight.

-Love, Duck.

[act-addict-actors-matchups]

@anonymous said,

hello !! can i get a matchup? im a pisces, infp & a ravenclaw. i am 5'0.5 and have medium length black wavy hair and brown eyes. i like to try new things though i can be shy & hesitant sometimes. i like things to remain light-hearted but i can be serious too when required. i have a different type of persona for every person,, if im comfortable with someone i get really really talkative and bubbly. (1)

also im like super addicted to my phone,, it's hard for me to even function w/o it. im pretty much a night owl and my sleeping schedule is messed up. i really like fashion, listening to music, travelling, photography, video games & SWEETS. I don't think im very good at comforting others but im a great listener. I'm super lazy & a big procrastinator. (2)

I cannot call or text anyone at all without dying like every second unless we're close. Usually, if i don't get my space i get really annoyed. I'm really stubborn too. I don't really have a hobby except listening to music, reading manga, webnovels or drawing? im so sorry this was so long thank you tho!! (3)

✧ Thank you so much for requesting a matchup anonnie. I don’t know when you send this but I hope you’ll see this and like it. 💓

I’d match you with: . . .

➜ HOW YOU TWO FIRST MET ; You were an intern at his company. One day, while everyone else was at lunch break, you were struggling to finish the assignment you were assigned which was due tomorrow and it didn’t help you at all that the person who was supposed to help you weren’t doing their jobs at all. With a groan, you pushed yourself off your office seat and made your way to the kitchen to get yourself a cup of coffee. It looked like you were staying overtime anyway. While walking towards your destination, you heard the background music of your favorite game and stopped in your tracks. At first you thought you were imagining the sound since it’s been a while since you last played it and there was literally no one else in the building aside from you but after listening more carefully for a while you were sure that someone in the office was indeed playing your favorite game. Careful not to make any noise, you basically tiptoed to the source of the sound only to be greeted with dark blonde locks. The celebrity of the company himself, the person who earned the trust of his coworkers and superiors alike like it was nothing, the one and only Chikasagi Itaru was playing YOUR favorite game. His pink eyes, which reminded you the stone Star Ruby, was glued on the phone in his hand deep in concentration under his bangs. You didn’t even realize you were in a daze until a curse left his lips and he threw his head back in frustration. That is when Itaru noticed that you were here and saw the whole thing. Now, don’t get him wrong, normally he wouldn’t even think of gaming while he was at work but there was this rare event he absolutely had to participate and rank. His game addict instincts basically took control over his mind. With a small smile on your lips you approached him and offered to help while he was desperately trying to think of any excuse to get him out of this situation. You knew you weren’t going to participate in this event no matter how much you wanted to anyway so you might as well use your skills to help someone in need, right? After convincing him to lend you his phone, which took a lot of effort ngl, you cleared the level he was stuck on with ease and handed him his phone back with a smug grin on your face. That was the moment when you became a gaming goddess in his eyes and as a thank you, he helped you with that assignment and miraculously, you managed to finish it before the deadline and started a new friendship with the hardcore gamer.

➜ PERSONALITY COMPATIBILITY ; First of all, you two compliment each other in a “we’re so similar I get why you’re like that”-way. You two can relate to each other with pretty much everything. He also has two different personas although it’s a bit different from yours but whenever Itaru is in professional mode, he is gentle and charming like a prince who genuinely cares about others but he somewhat maintains his distance and likes to keep his private life to himself but when he’s in home mode, he is not afraid to curse and be rude who also starts to get a bit lazy and outright competitive. I feel like he’s the type of person who would procrastinate as well so i’m just imagining you two lying down and telling each other that you should get up soon but none of you actually makes an attempt to do so.Cue you two rushing to finish whatever you were supposed to do afterwards. Don’t worry about not getting any space because Itaru is not the clingy type unless he’s like, really tired from work but who wouldn’t want to cuddle with their lover time to time? Also, I feel like he can manage your stubbornness because he’s a pretty chill guy.

➜ SHARED ACTIVITIES ; Like I said before, you two are basically two peas in a pot so if you really want to you can manage to do everything together. The fact that you like video games is a big plus in the relationship. Sometimes you two just game until the sun rise on your day offs since both of you are night owls and your sleeping schedule is basically nonexistent. If you’re in need for an extra player, Itaru personally drags Banri in your gaming sessions as well so you’re also good friends with the high-spec delinquent. Of course, he will take you out from time to time on normal dates like a mall, arcade, fun fair or a expensive restaurant, but this generally happens when you’re celebrating an important day like anniversaries or birthdays. I can picture you two sitting at a bakery, enjoying whatever you’ve ordered and passionately discussing if the newly released gamer keyboard is actually worth buying or not or going to an arcade and compete to see who can get the most tickets at the end of the day. I can also picture him dropping by your house with your favorite desserts after you’ve accomplished something amazing at work. In short, you’re literally the only person he’s willing to go all out for and he wouldn’t want to have it any other way.

➜ ZODIAC COMPATIBILITY ; Itaru’s birthday is on April 24 which makes him a Taurus. The connection between a Taurus and a Pisces will be built on sheer love and adoration for each other. The earth sign and water sign are complementary to each other. They are both caretakers of those around them and will thus nurture each other, and their relationship, with immense devotion and absolute dedication. Taurus helps Pisces to stay grounded and to focus on the reality. Pisces, on the other hand, soothes the rigidity of the Taurus to unwind themselves from the constant stress of expectations. This aids the bull breathe a little lighter and infuses their with self-assurance and optimism. This relationship will survive the test of time if both parties involved have unbreakable trust in each other and nurture that connection they have painstakingly built over the years. They must remember to be honest and committed to their partner through all times. If natural communication flows between them like clockwork, this will be a beautiful love story with a prominent tag of 'happily-ever-after' pinned right to it.

[fireproofkings]

The making of a sweater series

Part 1 || Part 2

Two things before we start: First, this is a long one and it has a few photos so buckle up if you’re reading. And second, I apologize in advance for the state of my nails in any of the pics, I know they are incredibly awful, but I promise I’ll do them tomorrow.

If you know me, you know I am the worst at keeping up with things, and if not, the fact that I have 7k drafts can give you a pretty good idea.

Last Saturday (July 11th) I went out and bought everything just as I expected, but while I was out shopping, Louis decided to attack us.

That’s one of those things you will always remember what you were doing the moment the news hit. I was buying all the supplies to make Harry’s sweater when Louis announced he was finally free.

My phone was blowing up, and when I went to check why, all of my group chats were screaming, and the lovely Ed (@literlarryreal) was sending me long voice notes telling me all the thoughts she has and let me tell you, it was a ride.

Yes, I cried in public and no, I am not ashamed to say it was not the first time I have done so with something Louis related.

Anyways, getting back on track, I spent way more than I was expecting to, but it’s alright lol. I am confident it’s all going to be worth it.

Under the cut you can find a summary on everything that happened this week with the process, and more pictures of Jack, my dog.

Here’s everything I bought that day. The quantities are exactly what is in the pattern in JW Anderson’s website (plus an extra colour I bought but then found a better match for, which I might use if I run out of any colour). I did end up finding everything, but I had to go to a few different stores to do it. There’s kind of a shortage due to the current situation and the fact that these aren’t essential goods.

I wanted to start that same Saturday, but I decided to finish that scarf I was making before, just so I wouldn’t have to go through all the trouble of changing needles and storing it away where it would probably get messed up, so I finished it and here’s a photo of it:

I ended up doing an infinity scarf, and have some yarn leftover, maybe I’ll do a hat or something like that in the future. Yes, those are my PJ’s don’t judge me.

Then I procrastinated starting the actual sweater for all of Sunday and Monday (12th and 13th). That’s something I tend to do, if you haven’t noticed.

One thing I hadn’t thought of as particularly hard, ended up being something out of my nightmares (I also tend to over exaggerate, if you’re reading this, you’re really getting to know me lol).

That green square is incredibly awful.

The pattern itself isn’t that difficult, but if you have to undo some lines it completely falls apart and you have to start over. This happened to me like three times the first time I attempted it.

Usually it takes me half an hour to 45 minutes to do one square, this one took literally two hours and a half. But it was so much easier and quicker the second time around. Putting in a lifeline and doing tallies in a notepad every time I finished a line helped a lot.

Jack did end up making it better. Even if him laying directly on top of it made it difficult to work.

On the other hand, the black and red jacquard squares were something that had me slightly worried. The technique is kinda confusing and is very easy to mess up if you are not paying attention.

The first few lines I did wrong, but then I learned how to do it properly and while the handling of the multiple strands of yarn is difficult, you get the hang of it pretty quickly.

But then, horror struck.

I realised that for some reason I was doing the squares 12cm long and not 14cm like they are supposed to be. So that panel was going to end up being 6cm shorter than the others in total, which doesn’t seem like much but was definitely going to show.

Here you can see the mess. I had to undo basically two whole squares, since the first one was 14cm (I really don’t know what was going on in my brain) and the second one, which was a jacquard pattern one, could be continued, but those two squares cost me about a whole day of work.

I was so frustrated I decided to stop for the day and take a long hot shower.

I came back to it the next day and Jack made it all better (can you sense a pattern -no pun intended- here?).

So, to wrap it up:

They are lined up in the way they go in the completed sweater. The little notes on top help me keep track of which one is each of them. The numbers in blue show the order in which they were done.

The first one was pretty easy except for the green square I talked about before, I started that one on Tuesday (14th) and finished on Wednesday (15th). That same day I started the second one which I finished early on Thursday (16th), it was really uneventful which I appreciated a lot, apart from my pointer finger hurting from pushing the needle, so I decided to invent some kind of protection with tape and silicone, which failed extremely, because it rides up and falls off.

Here you can see my failed attempt at some kind of protection for my pointer finger. I basically need a thimble, but I can’t find one online.

Maybe the uneventfulness of panel number two was to make up for the absolute nightmare that was the third panel that I had started that same day, the one I talked about being 6cm too short. It threw me off the loop for the rest of the day, which meant I only finished it late on Friday (17th) and by then I was too tired to do anything else.

Yesterday, on Saturday (18th) I started the fourth one, but I didn’t have the energy to work that much, and today, Sunday (19th), I haven’t done much more than a couple of rows.

By this point I have 3 completed back centre panels and another one 3/4 of the way done. I just have that 1/4 and the two side panels (that include shoulder shaping) left to finish the back, and then I have the front, sleeves, cuffs, collar, ribs, and button band to finish the knitting. Then it’s all ready to sew together.

Just as I did with last post, I want to close this off with some pointers for what is coming, just to keep myself on track and look back to later:

This week I want to finish the back and leave it all ready for sewing when I’m done with the rest of the knitting.

I have to write for a fic exchange I wish I had started earlier but I’m still confident on the time I have left, so that will be my priority, and not knitting.

I start classes again on August 3rd and I hope to be finished by then (with both the sweater and the fic lol), I am kinda confident I will be able to do it since I’m kind of 1/3 of the way through, so if I keep the same pace, or an even better one, I’ll be able to make it.

Something I’m not looking forward to is doing the shoulder shaping, I have no idea how to.

I have been worried the yarn I bought isn’t going to be enough (it might be just my anxiety talking), but I think it’s going to be okay since I am nearly 1/3 of the way through on the squares with one of the colours, but I haven’t gone through that amount of yarn yet.

I have made the executive decision to not do the tassels with the left over yarn and to sew the panels and ribbing together right sides together (so the seams will be on the inside) to give it a more polished look, but this might change in the future.

I’m starting to see it take shape, even if only the back, and I’m really excited!!!

If you want to see the other posts in these series go to the top where the other parts are linked or go to the tag here.

[cutietobio]

Hello!! Sorry to bother you but, could you write a scenario with Bokuto in which the reader has had a terrible first week of school? Thank you so much!!

hey, anon! you’re not a bother at all. I hope you enjoy this, thank you for requesting. If your request is based on your experiences I hope that school will get better for you! ❤︎

also, I know the homework scenario might not be all that realistic, but oh well.

BOKUTO

Your first day back to school had been nothing short of terrible and you quickly realized it was due to the fact that you didn’t have Bokuto, your boyfriend, to cheer you up throughout the day anymore. Being a third-year and a year younger than your boyfriend, this meant he had already graduated Fukurōdani Academy, free from the hellish grasps of school. 

You could tell Akaashi missed his presence too, however, the setter wouldn’t admit it. He did speak about how empty it was during volleyball practice, with you nodding in understanding, being able to relate with the emptiness in your heart. It may have seemed a bit pathetic, being dependent on Bokuto like this and allowing his absence to upset you. But during your first and second year of high school, he made it his priority to keep you happy. He wouldn’t allow a frown to remain on your face for too long, and he knew just how to replace it with a genuine smile in a matter of seconds. 

And now, that was gone. Nobody had been able to cheer you up since you walked onto the school grounds that dreaded Monday morning. Akaashi tried, and you were grateful for it, but he just wasn’t Bokuto. Akaashi understood why his attempts at making you smile were failing and he even informed Bokuto of your sad nature through a text he sent his ex-ace during lunch.

The message worried Bokuto, he was unable to visit you due to being on vacation with his family, having already been gone for more than a week, but face-timed you as soon as you got home. Seeing his new sun-kissed face definitely helped and he shared words of encouragement, doing most of the talking. 

“I love you, (Name). Be strong, okay? It’s not long now and then it will be over, we can move in together like we promised!” He excited voice filtered through the speaker of your phone and you grinned at his words, making his eyes light up at the sight of it. Even after both of you hung up and continued chatting through messenger, the smile on your face remained. He helped immensely, and now you felt as if you could take on the world, anything to survive until the end of the school year when both of you could fulfil your promise.

This happiness remained until Tuesday morning, but all came tumbling down throughout the school day as you were given task after task and multiple stacks of homework sheets to complete for the next day. It was hopeless, as you stared at your desk filled with over several things in need of completion for the next day. You knew your third year wouldn’t be easy, but you never expected it to get so stressful only after a day. Bokuto blew up your phone like crazy, concerned as to why you weren’t messaging him back. Your stare remained blank on your over-flowing desk, your procrastination a result of the overwhelming stress. 

You managed to finish everything around two in the morning, deciding you wouldn’t rush through it, no matter how badly you wanted to so you could get it over with. You were adamant at keeping your grades as good as they usually were, even better, if possible. Before heading to bed, in which you would only be able to remain for about four hours, you texted Bokuto, ignoring the multitude of messages he had sent you during the time you were busy. You’d make sure to read them the next morning.

“Heading to bed now, sorry for not replying, busy day. I love you.” Even under your sleep-deprived state, you wouldn’t dare forget to remind him about how much you loved him. With the message sent, you fell right asleep.

Wednesday wasn’t brilliant either, you tried out for (insert sport of choice) club and could already tell you wouldn’t be getting in. Even if you did, there was no way you would become a regular. You wanted to blame it on the equipment or the lack of sleep you had last night but instead blamed yourself. You were the problem, you weren’t good enough. After tryouts, you ended up crying softly in a vacant stall of the empty girl’s bathroom, unable to hold it in until you got home.

Upon arriving home later that day, the only thing your energy-ridden body was able to execute was eating dinner and doing homework, knowing your answers to everything would all be wrong, seeing as you half-assed your way through everything. You didn’t even care at this point, the will to keep your grades up vanished, and fell asleep around seven in the evening, sending Bokuto a small message beforehand. 

Bokuto read your message with a frown, going to bed at seven? He knew something must have happened and decided to call Akaashi, not wanting to wake you, knowing fully well that you must have been in need of the sleep. Especially since you went to bed at around two that morning. Bokuto counted the hours of sleep you would have gotten, and four made his stomach twist in anxiety, bothered by the state of your well-being.

Akaashi was unable to give him a definite reason as to why you weren’t acting your normal self, he just brought up the fact that you missed him and it may have had something to do with the overloading of work that the third-years were given. Bokuto understood, having been there before himself, he supposed it was much easier to get through due to having you by his side every school day (minus the rare occasions you were absent, Bokuto felt like he was dying during those days and would sulk around the whole day. Akaashi hated having to deal with him through it.) Bokuto was beginning to enjoy his vacation less and less, his minds plagued with the thought of you. Were you okay? What were you doing at that exact moment? Had you been…crying? The possibility alone was enough to make him want to do the same.

When you woke up that Thursday morning, it wasn’t to the tune of your alarm but instead your ringtone. Rolling over to grab your phone, you were surprised to find Bokuto calling you so early. You answered the call, mumbling out a sleepy, “Hello?” in greeting and in question.

The uneasy sound of his voice was evident through the speaker, his words jumbled up together at the fast rate he was speaking, with you unable to understand a thing. Eventually, you managed to calm him down and listen to what he had to say.

“(Name), I don’t know what’s going on. I understand you’re busy but I’m here for you angel. I’m worried about you, I couldn’t sleep last night at the thought of you being upset.” Hearing that made you feel worse, you had been burdening him?

“And don’t you dare think you’re a burden!” His voice raised louder this time and your eyes widened, were you speaking out loud or something?

“I know you’re thinking it.” He quickly added in and your rigid shoulders relaxed, your eyes closing as you laughed lightly. He laughed too, but you could tell by the sounds of it that he was still worried.

“Bokuto…” You started and he sighed out,

“I missed your voice, (Name).” His words came out as a genuine, longing mumble and you blushed at the sincerity of them. 

“I miss you.” You said and he was quick to defend himself,

“I miss you too! Not just your voice, I miss you, your everything!” Hearing him frantically correct himself through the phone made you laugh again and he quietened down at the blissful sound.

Silence overcame the both of you, but it was comfortable, you laid with your eyes closed, heart-swelling and lips turned into a smile.

“Skip school tomorrow,” Bokuto spoke up, interrupting the silence. In the background, you could hear the sounds of a zipper. You would have accepted his suggestion, but

“I can’t, Bokuto. You know I can’t,” You sighed, the mentioning of school putting a damper on your mood. It was already ten past six, you would have to start getting ready for the day soon if you didn’t want to wind up being late. A shuffle and the opening of a door sounded through his line, you figured he must have been walking around.

“Fine, I’ll ask your mom.” He stated casually as if your mom would really be open to letting you stay home from school with no valid reason.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his bold statement, “Okay, if she says yes then sure.” You said confidently, knowing fully well that it wouldn’t come to that.

“Great!” He exclaimed, sounding pleased by your words. You shook your head, despite knowing he wouldn’t be able to see you doing so, yet you were proven wrong,

“I sense you shaking your head, don’t doubt my awesome persuasion skills. Plus, your mom loves me!” You couldn’t deny the fact that your mom really loved Bokuto, she would always bring up the topic of marriage when he was around and you would find an excuse to get away from it, wanting to spare yourself the embarrassment.

“We’ll see, also, what are you doing?” You questioned, the constant shuffling of what sounded like clothing beginning to intrigue you. 

“Uh…” Bokuto fell silent, and you could tell he was searching his brain for any excuse he could give, “Nothing!” Wow.

“Anyway, don’t you have to get ready for school? Wouldn’t want you to be late.” He spoke quickly, hoping to change the subject which you quickly noticed was his intention.

“Oh? But you want me to skip school tomorrow, I don’t see the logic.” You smiled at the sound of him sighing out in fake annoyance.

“Don’t worry, I won’t force you to tell me.”

“Good, I’ll see you soon, babe. I love you!”

“I love you to- wait, soon?” Before you could question what he meant, he quickly hung up and you laughed out, finding his actions amusing.

“Oh, Bokuto…” You mumbled to yourself, smiling at your phone endearingly. A message suddenly popped out, it was no surprise that it had been sent by your boyfriend. You read the message and sighed out like a lovesick fool,

“I love you more!”

-

Nothing during that Thursday managed to put you down. Not even the handing out of an important math assignment or being informed that you didn’t become a regular on the club you signed up for. It was fine, there were many other clubs you could sign up for. Maybe you would get into volleyball this year, something your boyfriend suggested continuously, thinking you would be perfect for it. 

The thought of pleasing him with such a decision made you even happier, confusing Akaashi throughout the day.

“Did you say something to (Name)?” He texted Bokuto, barely listening to you drone on about a new TV series you were excited for. Of course, it was one Bokuto had been raving about as well.

“We spoke over the phone this morning, why?” Bokuto sent back quickly, hoping Akaashi would be a bearer of good news.

“She’s much happier today.” Bokuto smiled at the message before locking his phone, his attention returning to the baggage carousel as he awaited the arrival of his luggage.

-

When you arrived home after school that day, you suspiciously found your front door already open. You would check the handle from time to time before using your keys, and were surprised to find out that the door had already been unlocked. Stuffing your keys into your pocket, you glanced at the driveway. It was definitely empty, had your mom forgotten to lock the door that morning?

Cautiously, you stepped inside, wanting to remain as quiet as possible as you made your way down the hall and into the living room. A small yelp left your lips as a figure came popping out from behind the wall, your eyes widening at the feeling of someone engulfing you into a warm hug.

There was no need to pull away in order to distinguish the person, his scent and the way your bodies fitted together so nicely giving away who it was.  

“Bokuto!” You laughed out, arms immediately flying around his neck as you deepened the hug. He had been on vacation for two weeks and he was only supposed to return that Sunday.

“You’re back early!” You exclaimed, pulling away to look at him, only for him to kiss you deeply, unable to hold back at the sight of your face.

“Yeah, I couldn’t wait to see you!” He said breathlessly upon pulling away from the kiss, both of his hands coming up to cup your red face.

“Really?” You questioned out quietly, eyes searching his own.

“Of course! The resort was nice but my princess needed me more!” He grinned, only for it to disappear at the sight of your face conforming into that of sadness, tears escaping your eyes as you pulled him into a gentle hug. You didn’t mean to start crying, all the emotions you were currently feeling overwhelmed you. You hadn’t gotten over the upsetting events of the week and the rough reality that it would only get worse, but with Bokuto here now, you knew he would be able to help you get over it.

“Hey…” he spoke out softly, rubbing your back in comforting circles. His touch was light as if he were afraid you would break at any moment, feeling fragile in his arms.

“Don’t cry.” He mumbled, his chin resting upon your head before both of his arms wrapped around your upper body in a protective manner. The sounds of your quiet sobs and sniffles ached his heart, he felt terrible himself seeing you this way.

“You must have had a bad week, huh?” He questioned light-heartedly, trying to lift your spirits. His frown deepened when the only reaction he got from you was a nod of your head.

“Is there anyone I need to beat up? I’ll call Kuroo to help.” You laughed out weakly, hey, there’s a start.

“You want to talk about it?” He questioned carefully, not wanting to upset you further, but hearing you whisper out a small ‘yes,’ calmed his nerves.

“Okay,” Pulling away from the hug, he looked down at you with a soft smile.

“But then after that, no more crying.” You merely nodded in reply, both his thumbs coming up to wipe away the tears that escaped your eyes.

“Great, we have enough time, seeing as you’re staying home tomorrow.” His eyes glinted mischievously and you stared at him, puzzled.

“You mean…?”

“I told you your mom loves me!” You shook your head in response but ultimately ended up smiling at his excited nature,

“She’s not the only one who loves you.” You said and he blushed at your honesty,

“Yeah? Well, I love you more!” 

The rest of the evening was spent discussing your terrible first few days of school, with Bokuto listening closely and giving his own input on certain things. It saddened him to hear you had suffered without him being there to help. But you shut him down quickly, stating that despite him having graduated and unable to attend school with you anymore, he was still your biggest source of happiness and it would forever remain that way.

So, what started as the dreadful first week of school, ended with tons of cuddling, tears of laughter (the only tears Bokuto would accept from you) and a lot of kisses. Oh, and he may or may not have helped you complete your whole math assignment due for that upcoming Monday. 

[jeserai]

bits and pieces (4/7)

catradora week 2019 day 4 - silver/gold

“There are also many comparisons to heavenly bodies—She-Ra, the sun, C’yra both the moon and the stars—showing again that while they were related, they were also enemies. The moon and stars swallow the sun each night, and the sun rises again each morning. Anyway. Another thing that every myth I have read has in common is that C’yra was the only being—divine or mortal—that could mortally wound She-Ra. But other times, C’yra is referred to as She-Ra’s second sword. Their relationship was volatile, built on blood and war, but when their morals—She-Ra’s need for justice and C’yra’s need for retribution—collided, it was said that the earth and even the sky would tremble at their combined wrath.”

This late at night—and on a Friday night, at that—the library is blessedly empty, and Adora deposits her things on the desk before making herself comfortable. Thesis work isn’t due until the end of the year, but she’s seen time and time again how much procrastination had hurt the seniors in the years before her. Besides, she’s actually excited and interested in her topic: a comprehensive study of ancient Etherian gods and how they helped shape modern culture. After going over various research with her professor and his husband, they’d decided that focusing on only a few of the gods would be a much easier task, given the extensive lore and research.

So for now, Adora is researching the most well-known and celebrated Etherian god, She-Ra. She’d been able to peruse her professor’s extensive collection of Etherian artifacts, and at his insistence, even borrow whatever she wanted for her research. (“Anything for a fellow palaeophile—and please, call me George.” her professor had said, beaming.)

All Adora had taken was a small mountain of paintings and texts—both translated and left in their original language—she wishes now that she hadn’t been so shy about it, but the first draft of the thesis won’t be due for about a month, so she has more than enough time.

For now—

Adora begins to look through the pictures she’d taken, trying to get a feel for the god she is now studying; fishes her phone out of her pocket and starts a new voice memo to record her findings. “I’ve just started my research on the Etherian goddess She-Ra for my thesis, a comprehensive study of ancient Etherian gods and how they helped shape modern culture. That title may change later, but for now—She-Ra. From what I already know, she was kind of the leader of all the other gods. Here it says…” Adora skims the glyphs and continues, “she is the defender of order, uniter of all lands, king of the gods. Often times, she is seen with her weapon of choice, the Sword of Protection.”

Adora pauses the voice memo to read through a paperclipped bundle of text; interspersed are sticky notes with scrawled notes and corrections by Lance and George. When she’s finished, she unpauses it to say, “So far, She-Ra is the only god to have a sort of mortal enemy that was also a god: C’yra. Both are Etherian war goddesses, avenger of wrongdoings, night huntress, mistress of slaughter. It seems that while She-Ra fought for balance and good, C’yra fought for whatever side pleased her. She was invoked by the ancient rulers before battles, and demanded a sacrifice upon victory.” Squinting at the glyphs on the well-worn scroll in front of her, Adora reads, “She-Ra never demanded any kind of living sacrifice, only prayers.”

There are paintings of the two goddesses on tablets and scrolls covering her desk; She-Ra holding up a sword, a shining beacon of hope and divine retribution, C’yra, feline-headed, snarling, daggers in both hands. Even from just the images, Adora can feel C’yra’s bloodlust and rage, She-Ra’s cool partiality to justice.

“So far, out of all the Etherian gods that I have studied, C’yra and She-Ra are definitely the most interesting—in most of the myths and paintings of them, they are pictured as mortal enemies, but I have also read that they were comrades, both on the battlefield and off. My professor wrote that some myths say that they used to fight for good together until some major breaking point forced them apart—he only had half of the tablet with the story, so he doesn’t know what—and his husband writes that they were always enemies, and only fought together when their morals aligned. But…there was—here it is,” Adora reaches for another wellworn scroll and reads, “in summary, a legend that when one of C’yra’s eyes was gouged out, She-Ra plucked the brightest star from the sky to replace it. There are also many comparisons to heavenly bodies—She-Ra, the sun, C’yra both the moon and the stars—showing again that while they were related, they were also enemies. The moon and stars swallow the sun each night, and the sun rises again each morning. Anyway. Another thing that every myth I have read has in common is that C’yra was the only being—divine or mortal—that could mortally wound She-Ra. But other times, C’yra is referred to as She-Ra’s second sword. Their relationship was volatile, built on blood and war, but when their morals—She-Ra’s need for justice and C’yra’s need for retribution—collided, it was said that the earth and even the sky would tremble at their combined wrath.” There comes then the quiet tap-tap-tap of nails on the door, so Adora pauses the voice memo again and glances back at the door as it opens.

“Figured you’d be in here,” Catra says. She sounds fond, amused as she sweeps aside a pile of papers to sit herself on the desk. She looks at all the work spread out and makes a disgruntled face before rolling her eyes. “I hope you know what a huge nerd you are, Adora.”

“Shut up,” Adora mumbles, but it’s automatic, and there is no malice in her words. “I didn’t want to wait to start my thesis, and besides, I actually really like what I’m studying.”

“Is that so? What is all this junk, anyway?” Catra picks up the closest paper to her—a copied image of C’yra; from here, Adora can’t tell which one.

“Well, that’s C’yra, one of the Etherian war goddesses. I think you’d actually like her.”

“What do you mean, actually?” Catra sounds offended, but Adora just rolls her eyes and scoots her chair closer so she sits between Catra’s spread legs.

“You’re always telling me how boring class is.”

“Yeah, the class is boring. I would’ve dropped it if not for a certain pretty blonde girl though.”

Adora flushes pink and ducks her head to hide her flustered smile; then leans her head on Catra’s thigh as her girlfriend reads to herself. “Avenger of wrongdoings, night huntress, master of slaughter? I like her.”

“Mistress,” Adora corrects automatically, and then, “I figured you would. I’m telling you, they’re both so interesting!”

“C’yra and…” the sound of more papers rustling, and Catra’s thigh tenses under Adora’s cheek as she shifts. “She-Ra?”

“Yeah, another Etherian war goddess.”

“Yeah, I like C’yra better. Anyway—I’d ask if you ate, but I know you haven’t.” As if on cue, Adora’s stomach grumbles, and when she looks up to give Catra a sheepish little grin, she just rolls her eyes and tugs on Adora’s ponytail. “We’ll stop by somewhere on the way home. I could go for a milkshake—you’re buying.”

“Can I finish this first? Please? Their stories—”

“Will be here for you to decipher tomorrow, nerd,” Catra interrupts. “Even if this C’yra sounds pretty cool. The Bright Star, huh?”

Adora pushes herself to sit up, rests her elbows on Catra’s thighs and ignores the way she hisses (“your elbows are fucking bony, Adora,” Catra always says) and nods. “You’re really getting better, I’m proud of you!”

“Yeah, well,” Catra shrugs. “Nerdy dead languages aren’t my thing.” But Adora can tell that she’s pleased at the compliment by the way the corners of her lips twitch up into a self-satisfied grin.

“Then how about I’ll keep researching and you can listen to me talk?”

Catra huffs out a sigh and shakes her head, amused. “You’re not gonna give this up, huh? Fine, ten minutes and we leave, it’s late.”

“Thank you!” before Catra can change her mind, Adora leans up to kiss her cheek and then grabs one of Lance’s books that he’d bookmarked for her. She stands so Catra can sit in her chair, and when Catra is comfortable, Adora sits as well, relaxing automatically as Catra’s arm wrap around her middle. It should be uncomfortable in the tiny chair, and it is, a little, but the little bit of intimacy makes it more than worth it.

After unpausing the voice memo again, Adora clears her throat and says, “I’m reading Myths of Ancient Etheria, the first section that is bookmarked. In summary, it says that the first time She-Ra and C’yra fought together was to rid Etheria of a scourge on the land. She-Ra, of course, felt it was her duty to restore the balance between good and evil, and the scourge—the Horde—fell out of C’yra’s grace when they destroyed one of her temples and a village that worshipped her. Even the sun and moon paused to watch the battle at its fiercest—Etheria’s first eclipse.”

From behind her, Catra makes a tiny, appreciative noise, and Adora bites back a grin. She knew Catra would enjoy this too. “This was also where C’yra became known as She-Ra’s second sword. The battle was so important to Etherian history because none of the gods worked together, ever. So having She-Ra and C’yra, mortal enemies, fight together on the battlefield, for humans, at that? C’yra was also known to be hot headed, stubborn and prideful, so her coming to She-Ra at all would have been considered something hugely important. I—”

“Second sword,” Catra nudges her, impatient and just a little bit petulant, “what about the second sword thing?”

“Right, right. As I said earlier, She-Ra always carried her Sword of Protection—its jewel in the center was said to shine brighter than even the North Star—and C’yra primarily used smaller hunting knives or daggers. This again perpetuates their sun, moon and stars theme: She-Ra’s sword bright and big, C’yra’s knives smaller and more inconspicuous. But as for being She-Ra’s second sword, this was because of the way they fought together; like they were on the same wavelength. She-Ra was bigger and mainly used brute force—no one else, not even the other gods, could lift her Sword—but C’yra was smaller, and like her title of night huntress, faster, more cunning. Nothing could ever hurt She-Ra, but even if things could, no one could get the chance, because when they fought together, C’yra took any enemy that even tried to sneak passed She-Ra’s line of sight. Her second sword.”

“Oh—another thing to note. The ancient Etherians believe that gold was indestructible, blessed by the gods. This belief was spread because of She-Ra: gold for immortality, blessings, and the sun. C’yra, despite being a god, has no sign of gold anywhere but for her eye, the one given to her by She-Ra. This again perpetuates the idea of gold being a sign of healing and indestructibility. Silver was instead associated with C’yra, for its symbolism of destruction, repentance, and neutrality. Even today, silver can be seen as a symbol for deceptiveness and cold; calling back to C’yra’s neutrality in her morals. Statues of She-Ra and C’yra are done in gold and silver perspectively; their temples were full of riches to show the people’s respect.”

This time, when Catra nudges her, Adora glances up at the clock. 2:46 am. She disentangles herself from Catra’s grip and stops the voice memo for good this time before settling back into Catra’s warmth; suddenly, without the buzz of new knowledge and research, she’s exhausted. “I didn’t realize how late it was.”

“You do tend to do that,” Catra sounds beyond fond, but she lets go of Adora to gently push her up after a moment of quiet. “Now can we go? I’m exhausted.”

“Fine, fine,” Adora huffs. She packs her things as quickly as possible—Catra doesn’t help, just sighs every few seconds as if that will somehow make things go more quickly along—and when she’s done, (“god, finally,” Catra says petulantly,) she reaches out for Catra to hold her hand. “Thank you for coming to get me, and staying with me even though it’s so late…”

“You would’ve done the same for me,” Catra shrugs. “And I guess it wasn’t too boring, besides. You picked a good topic, Adora. You’ll do well on your thesis too, I know it.”

Adora is grateful for the darkness now surrounding them; her cheeks are flushed pink and she knows Catra would tease her endlessly for it. “Thank you, really.”

“I didn’t do anything, dumbass,” even without seeing her face, Adora can practically see Catra rolling her eyes, “you don’t have to thank me.”

(And that gives Adora the oddest sense of déjà vu—she dismisses it, because yeah, of course she’s heard Catra say that before, she says it all the time.) “Then how about I buy you dinner?”

Catra snorts out a laugh and squeezes Adora’s hand, trapping her against the closed car door before leaning in to kiss her quick. “Why, Adora, are you flirting with me?”

“Is it working?”

Adora feels Catra smile wide against her lips before she kisses her again, again. When she pulls back, she looks soft, fond. “Buy me dinner and maybe you’ll find out.”

1 - 2 - 3 - x - 5 - 6 - 7

[mari-onberry]

12 days of Luka Day 4: Luchloe

Read on ao3

@lukacouffaineappreciationmonth

Chloe had been failing math for a while now, and was finally realizing that this problem wouldn't just go away with money. She was trying to stop depending on her parents, anyway, which is why she was going to a public university. 

She would have to ask someone for help if she wanted to pass. Problem was, asking for help wasn't her strong suit. She wished she could ask Adrien for help, but he had been studying abroad with Marinette. She was thankful for it at first, because it meant she didn't have to see Marinette rubbing their relationship in her face. But it actually proved to make things difficult, since she had depended on Adrien to tutor her most of the time. 

So, Chloe went through her options. There was Juleka, Rose, Alya, Nino... She frowned as she realized none of them would be very willing to work with her. She had hurt all of them. And Sabrina had been out of the picture since high school. She regretted treating all of them so badly, but it was too late. She had no one--

“Chloe? Are you alright?” 

She looked up from her math textbook to see Luka. Oh no, she thought, not the emo kid. “What do you want?”

“Do you need help?” It sure looked like she did-- she had been staring at her textbook for a while now without writing anything down.

“No. I'm fine.” She was defensive. She didn't need help, not from him. 

He knew she wasn't fine. He saw the frustrated scribbles on her notes that were all too familiar. So he sat down across from her. “What are you working on?” 

“An essay,” she said, humoring him. Maybe if she talked for a while, he would leave her alone.

“What essay specifically?” He said, joking tone in his voice, trying his hardest not to scare her off.

“I have to write about Kant for my ethics class.”

Luka had taken a similar class his freshman year, so he somewhat remembered ethics. “Well, if you don't mind, I've actually been studying to become a teacher, so I'd be happy to help.”

She really did need help with the essay-- it was due in two days and she hadn't even started the rough draft. And maybe Luka wasn't as bad as she remembered. She had been pretty closed off to everyone in high school. "Fine. But this is just so you can practice teaching, I don't actually need help."

He went along with her charade, or at least pretended to. "Of course. This is for me, not for you."

She nodded, and tried to suppress a smile, worried he might see her true feelings. 

"Okay, so have you done an outline yet?"

She looked at the blank document she had up on her laptop. "Uh, yes?"

He laughed, obviously caught on to the fact that she was lying. He explained to her how to start an outline and typed out the basic categories, but she was too busy watching his lips and fingers move as he did so. 

"Chloe? Are you listening?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, I am." She looked into his eyes, and suddenly realized how beautiful they were. Why had she never really looked at him? Now, she wished she had started earlier, because she could probably spend a lifetime just memorizing every detail of his face.

"Okay, can you write the next sentence, then? You're off to a good start now."

She looked at the document. She didn't remember what he told her, and she definitely didn't know what to write next. She quickly read over what he wrote and placed her hands on the keyboard. "Umm," she was ready to give up.

"It's okay, you can take your time. And if you're confused about any of it, just ask me."

Wow, she thought. He's actually a good teacher. She typed out a sentence that she thought might sound good, and he helped her edit it a little to flow well into her thesis, and in no time she had written the entire introduction. It usually took her at least an hour to get this far. 

"Okay, so next you should write your first body paragraph, and relate it back to your thesis. Do you think you could do that tonight and I could look over it tomorrow?" It was getting pretty late, and Luka was getting hungry, but he wanted to help her as best he could. 

Chloe didn't want to tell him how badly she procrastinated the paper, but she also needed his help if she was going to get it done quickly enough. And with him around, she felt as if her writing was also better, maybe even good enough for an A. And if that was possible, she knew her parents would be proud of her. "Look, pretty boy, I know you're trying to get rid of me, but the least you could do is at least help me finish my rough draft." She saw him check the time on his phone and got a plan. "If you want dinner we could get something to eat as we keep writing this?" That sentence sounded much nicer than what she was used to coming out of her mouth. "Or you could abandon me, making you directly responsible for me failing the class," she added to sound at least a little meaner. 

He just chuckled and answered, "Sounds like a plan."

His demeanor annoyed her; she was usually good at aggravating people, but he didn't seem the slightest bit bothered by her.

Since they actually had to get some work done, Luka suggested they go to an internet cafe, which was new ground for Chloe. She wasn't used to eating anywhere other than the 5 star restaurants her parents took her to.

Luka ordered a coffee and a scone for himself, and in seeing how lost Chloe seemed, ordered the same for her. They set up at a table in the corner, and Chloe continued to write her essay, and with him there she had pretty much gotten the hang of it. Every so often, she asked him to read over it, and he would edit it, silently until he was done. 

She liked watching him look over her work; she followed his eyes as they moved over the page and she imagined wondered which part he had read. Most of all, she loved how she trusted him to read what she had read, even if it was just some dumb ethics project. When she would do homework with Adrien, she wouldn't ever let him read her work, and instead just asked him about her word choice and whatnot, as if she was too scared he would judge her. Luka didn't give her that sense of fear, and in fact she was glad she was able to trust him to help her. She always had trust issues, so his was new for her. She took her computer back, happy with the amount she had gotten done. "Luka, do you think we could do this tomorrow too? I need to finish as soon as possible, and I would love your help again."

"Luka nodded. "Yeah, that's fine with me. I'll meet you here again tomorrow then. How's four sound?"

"That sounds nice." She was sad to see him leave, but was already looking forward to their meeting tomorrow. "Oh, and Chloe?" He called out to her from across the room. I think you forgot to be mean to me."

Chloe frowned and opened her mouth to object, but he had already gone out the door. Her face turned bright red as soon as he left, and she rushed out of the building quickly to try and hide her embarrassment. Despite his teasing, she decided she might “forget” to be mean to him more often.

[amarantine-amirite]

November Syndrome

Imagine that you're a freshman. You're away from home for the first time, out from under the thumbs of veganism and expectations for high achievement that were previously foisted upon you. You have no sense of obligation other than avoiding being yelled at by parents and school. No discipline. No idea how to schedule anything. No sense of organization or time management. The only reason you ever got anything done before was because you had been emotionally beaten into submission by your higher-ups.

What happens? You go crazy. End of story. For the first two months, you go to every party and social event on campus, then, come November, you go bonkers over how much work you have to do, but you don't actually do any work. Instead of working, you escape into things like writing fanfiction, playing Fortnite, or something else unrelated to your studies. It's almost like you evolve into a master procrastinator.

Worse, you don’t even notice your lack of discipline until there’s no one saying “no” to every one of your ideas. As a premed, one of the courses I had to take was called "Computer Science for Scientific Applications". It sounded better than it was. It involved having to hand-write code. On top of that, we had to write in pen! It sucked. My handwritten braces looked like sideways boobs. It was just awful. What really sucked was that I write in cursive, so I did my code in cursive. The professor was not pleased when I handed my assignments in. Our assignments were graded based on whether or not they worked. We don't know until we hand anything in if it works. We don't test the code ourselves, he runs it for us. He put our assignments were put through a scanner, and the scans would be put through a piece of software that would convert the text on the image of the page into actual text. The text that it scraped would then be entered into the IDE for the language in question. Usually for freshman computer science, the language was Java, but our steam (recall I was in premed at the time) did Javascript. The only sort of editing that had to be done to the code once it was scanned and in the IDE was typically spacing related/missing character (the software was good but not perfect).

How was your assignment scored? If the code ran, you passed, and if not; you failed. And I failed my assignment (I only did one) because my handwriting always created a ton of problems for the transcription software. It was kind of a weird program. The software had an auto-detect-language-and-translate feature. Sounds cool, but because of my writing, it thought that I was writing in Hindi and it would "auto-translate" my code. Since the translation module for the software was not that good, stuff got mistranslated…a lot. I remember on one of my assignments, I wrote something in the comments and it got garbled into "radish boots". Ever since then, my nickname amongst my friends in CS was Radish Boots. I didn't hand in any more assignments for that class after that.

See, that's how it starts. Something very small, very unexpected like that. That's how you get the idea that your assignments are optional. And that was all it took to turn me into a master procrastinator.

Once I got the idea that assignments were optional, I just really let myself go. Within three weeks, I went from "good student" to "crappy student" to "how the hell did they get into university?" With no actual work weighing me down, I went ahead and participated in every campus social event ever. Paint-your-own flower pot day at the library? I was there! Fitness event? I was there! Halloween party? Take a guess? I kid you not, I was acting like one of those guys in a college movie. Rather than studying, I went to social events. It was great, except for one little thing. Turns out (and I learned this at board game night), people find people who act like they're in college movies really annoying.

Anyway, the incident that happened at board game night was related to something that happened in chemistry. We had one of those semester long group projects where they put you in groups of seven or eight people. One of the people in our group (Anne, I believe it was) was at the event, and she gave me an earful. Not going to lie, she was really mad that I wasn't doing any work. That's bad enough on its own, but she was angrier than I had expected her to be because we lost five people in the group (four of whom died in rapid succession in some bizarro chain reaction):

last Monday, Laura died of obesity related complications

last Tuesday, Alejandro took up jogging to avoid dying like Laura. He got hit by a bus

last Wednesday, Kevin became afraid of the outdoors (thanks to what happened to Alejandro) and sought refuge in playing video games. Come the weekend, he died of a blood clot from playing Starcraft for 62 hours straight

on Sunday, Melissa shunned all technology (because of what happened to Kevin) and went off to rough it in the woods. She died eating poisonous mushrooms

and yesterday, Michiru dropped out because she couldn't handle the pressure of doing the work of the people that died 

Now, our group only had two people, and we had to do the work of seven people. Actually, scratch that. Since I wasn't pulling my weight, poor Anne was stuck doing the work of seven people. Understandably, she was fuming with me, and more than a few swear words were uttered. Anne made a point of saying that if I didn't step up in times of crisis, I had no business being a doctor. I would have agreed, but I had my first taste of freedom in my life. There was no one telling me how I had to respond, so I did what people in movies did: I told her to fuck off.

I don't blame Anne for being so ticked with me. After all, she was doing the work of seven people and I was being a coward, hiding behind a mask made out of lies and excuses. No one likes that.

And then, it happened. November rolled around. The amount of stuff that was past due was insane. Seriously! I missed literally every single assignment that wasn't a test (actually, I think I might have missed a couple of tests, too). I made the mistake of buying into the delusion that assignments were optional, and I ended up paying for it.

I needed to get my shit together and do work, but I couldn't. It went beyond lack of discipline. I never built a workflow, and now I couldn't, for it was too late to dig myself out of the hole. And so, instead of doing the work I needed to do, I did a bunch of irrelevant crap. I had run out of time as a procrastinator, but I acted like things were OK. The reality was, they weren't. My situation with school was beyond dire. Worse, I lied to myself about how it wasn't a big deal. Rather than own up to anything, I escaped into a world of playing video games, writing crappy fan fiction, and other bullshit that would in no way help me get on top of school. November called, and I didn't answer. I couldn't. I was stuck where I was.

I know that I sound like I am repeating myself a lot, but I really want to emphasize how I still didn't get my ass in gear even though things had gotten to the point that I really, really had to buckle down and actually do a ton of work to just pass. More specifically, I wanted to emphasize how much stupid fan fiction and creepypasta I read and wrote during that period. I don't know why I gravitated to creepypasta. I think I was trying to hide the fact that I was a coward, afraid to face the consequences of my procrastination. Liking works of fiction involving surreal horror and demented episodes of beloved childhood cartoons somehow must have translated in my mind to not being afraid of anything. Regardless of how the logistics of that excuse supposedly worked, I ended up being a creepypasta addict.

And that bled into my fanfic writing. I know because I tried to write this ridiculous JumpStart fanfic. It was supposed to be a creepypasta/fanfic (like the infamous Cupcakes), but it just came out incredibly stupid. The concept that powered the story was the little animals from the early elementary JumpStart titles (Frankie the dog, Eleanor the elephant, Pierre the polar bear, CJ the frog, etc…) acting like the folks on South Park. For instance, Frankie the Dog was "Kyle", CJ the Frog was "Stan", Eleanor the Elephant was "Cartman" (albeit with a hidden softer side), and I don't remember who was "Kenny" (I think it was Pierre the Polar Bear). Anyway, the actual story was this thing with vampires. The story was that, at some point, Eleanor got bitten by a vampire (and consequently, turned into a vampire). At the same time, Pierre (I think) was in the hospital with some pretty heavy duty muscular dystrophy, and CJ was trying to persuade people to fund stem-cell research in the hopes that they could save Pierre. However; Frankie thought CJ's thing was dumb and said that they could get Eleanor to bite Pierre so he'd turn into a vampire, thereby curing him of his muscular dystrophy. The only problem with that was, well, Pierre would be a vampire. Eleanor ends up being conflicted by the whole thing, and that's the conflict that drives the story.

I remember some time after I posted the first two chapters online wanting to have a twist ending (I'd written about 75% of the story by this time). I didn't know whether I wanted to do "you think it's the future but it's really the past" or "you think it's the past but it's really the future". I guess it didn't matter, because I noticed that I had only two hours left before the submission deadline for my biology term paper. After trying to convince myself that no, I wasn't dreaming this, I wrote the bare minimum of what I needed to write to fit the guidelines for the term paper disclosed on the webpage; then uploaded the results to turnitin.com, fingers crossed that I would at least pass.

Except I didn't. Not only did I not pass the term paper, I didn’t even hand it in. I found out the next day that I had actually uploaded the fourth chapter of my dumb-ass JumpStart fanfiction (and it was a scary chapter too...it was the flashback to when Eleanor gets bitten by the vampire). The prof was not impressed. Let's just leave it at that.

You have no idea how badly I screwed everything up. I managed to get a flat zero in every single course this term. The only exception was CS, where I wound up getting only 2%. Bottom line is that I failed everything. Yes, everything. My only shot at academic redemption is the final exam.

Even still, it might not be enough. As of this writing, I have less than twelve hours before I go in to write the exam. This is bad. I can't sleep even though I'm exhausted. I have to stay up and work. I need to sleep, but I can't. I'm stuck. I've made this bed, and now I'm going to die in it.

No, really. I feel like I'm going to die.

When I first started cramming, I was fine for the first hour and a half. After that, though, I started seeing static in my field of view. The static thing lasted for a couple of hours until it progressed to seeing shadow people. Or, at least I thought they were shadow people. They weren't even remotely humanoid. I was seeing weird, shadowy spider things. They looked like giant tarantulas, all four of them, and they were coming for me. Just before they got me, they vanished.

They were gone. They were 100% all gone. It was like it never happened. No static, no ghost spiders, nothing. Crisis averted. Back to work.

Nope. It's not that simple. The minute I went back to reading the textbook, I could feel my heart race. I tried to highlight stuff and write down key points, but I couldn't, since my right arm is numb. I switch to writing with my other hand, but that doesn't work. I can't write with my other hand too well. Worse, the minute I get the hang of writing with my other hand, I start throwing up like a volcano. After that, it's over. I can't study if I'm throwing up every three minutes. Even if I weren't throwing up the way I am, I wouldn't be able to focus on studying right now. I can barely form coherent sentences, much for your time like to undarastamnd the impotence of teh book biology and chemistry. Chemical biologrehcal flerbut connection ffrhhAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

AAAAAAAAAA!

@the-writer-s-hideout

[soft-sarcasm]

mark lee: almost-almost.

33. “Be a little quieter, I’m trying to take your makeup off.” + 44. “I can hear your smile through the phone.”+ 15. “I love just being around you.”

Pairing: mark lee x reader.

Request: Anonymous: Hello, i know youre not writing for the dreamies but do you write for mark...? If so can i request a drabble with prompt 33? Thank you so much and have a great day! + @anothernctzen: Helllooo can I have mark lee with 15 and 48 for the drabble game? Thanks in advance! 💞

Genre: fluff, sleepy and pouty mark.

Word count: 2+k.

a/n: so obviously I don’t know what a drabble means because I literally am only writing pieces over 1k but oh well, hopefully you guys aren’t sick of them yet. I had yet to do one of these drabbles with over two prompts so this was definitely an experience but when I was writing the storyline just seemed to meld together. Anyway, hope you guys like it and feel free to request if ya’ll want. (also i’m tagging you @kaylee-jade-camp and this has it’s own title because three pompts is too long.)

request a drabble.

  In theory, it is far too easy to say you’re going to do a multitude of productive things. The difficult part is even the completing of these tasks but rather conquering the ever-menacing foe of procrastination and actually gearing up to do the 101 productive things you list for yourself to do every day. The feat is made especially difficult when one is not just combating laziness but also the struggle of being pinned down by another human onto the bed you’re already having to coaxingly convince yourself to leave.  Everything becomes even more strenuous and taxing when the aforementioned human looks incredibly peaceful as they continue to sleep on, most likely oblivious to how inconceivably difficult they’re currently making your life.

Just the peaceful expression on Mark’s face was enough to make you want to throw in the towel and just stayed curled up with him in bed for the rest of the day. Unfortunately, despite the endearing, unconscious pout on his lips and the smudges of day-old makeup that was a side effect of him coming straight to your apartment (and in turn straight into your bed) after a music show; you needed to get up. As reluctantly as ever, you extracted yourself from his grip as carefully as possible, wincing at each and every creak you made as you tip-toed away from the bed.

Wednesday was the only break in your class schedule which meant that it was also the only day you had to catch up on all of the non-school related work that you had otherwise been neglecting. This meant the mundane things like washing and folding clothes, scrubbing your apartment of the dirt that Mark always teased was ‘nonexistent’ due to your near obsession with keeping your living spaces permanently immaculate and food shopping because your fridge was just depressing at this point. Thankfully for you- you had always been an earlier riser which meant it was usually easy to lug yourself out of bed at the latest 7:00 in the morning. However, as previously stated, adding Mark into the mix usually made the parts of you that wanted to be productive so you could relax and the conflicting opposition that much rather procrastinate and cuddle with Mark battle it out in the early hours of the day while he simply slept peacefully on; unaware of the internal war that was happening within the person he had cuddled to his chest.

Today productivity had won which meant you were grabbing a discarded hoodie from the floor over your oversized t-shirt and leggings that you most definitely had not worn to bed the night before, never. After having something to shield you from the cold that you were now so painfully exposed to due to the lack of having the perpetually warm Mark Lee wrapped around you, you grabbed for your phone that had been dutifully charging throughout the night before scampering out of the bedroom as quickly as possible so to not further disturb it’s unconscious inhabitant.

Your next course of action was attempting to fill your washing machine and clean the lingering dishes in the kitchen sink with as little noise as you could muster. Every small clutter of plates or silverware made you cringe and your spine prickle as you cursed the paper thin walls of your shoe-box apartment. Finally, you pressed the button labelled ‘Regular Cycle’ on the machine and listened carefully for the quiet mechanical wire before sighing in relief as no noise of consciousness emerged from your bedroom. Now that the most pressing and time-conscious tasks were done, you were able to complete your venture in acquiring the true necessity of life; food.

You could only hope as you scrambled to grab your handbag and slip out of your apartment that the previous day’s workload would be enough to keep Mark asleep until you returned home from the shop that was thankfully in walking distance from your building. There had been once when you had snuck out to grab two lattes from a coffee shop on one of the few mornings he had actually slept over and you had received a stern talking to when you had returned back as Mark had awoken to your absence. It had been a tedious thing, taking him seriously that day while he stood before you, shirtless and hair ruffled by sleep as he attempted to berate you for giving him no warning of your departure. His gripe was made all the less convincing when he had conceded to your lax apology of a pout and a kiss on his lips.

 Your body was half but half inside the seemingly endless meat-filled freezer as you painstakingly searched for the cut of beef you both wanted and could actually afford. Your fingers pried petrified package from petrified package only to be halted by the shrill sound of your ringtone that made you instantly recoil from the frost-bitten produce. Instinctively, you grappled for the cellular device, mindlessly running your near frozen finger over the ‘Answer’ button with no inherent caution.

“You left without telling me again.”

You could almost feel the sulky pout that accompanied Mark’s opening statement and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, going back to surfing through meat packets as you kept your phone pressed to your ear, “I’m getting you food.”

The pout most likely increased, “But you didn’t tell me- I would have gone with you.”

“Yeah right,” You scoffed, having to concede to a cut that was not in your usual price-range for the sake of your sanity and your fingers, “And have my trip take at least twice as long because you’ve gotten distracted? No thanks. Besides, you were asleep.”

“I’m not anymore,” He further brooded and you could hear the distinct rustling of sheets that meant that he was still in bed, “And I take great offence to that previous comment about getting distracted.”

“Good,” You snarked, a taunting smile twisting like smoke at the corners of your lips as you reached for a bottle of Mirin, checking the price only briefly before throwing it into the cart that carefully peddled along under the guidance of your hand. “But anyway- you had no reason to mope, I’m almost done anyways.”

“Almost done or almost-almost done?” Mark pestered like the persistent idiot he was and you had to suppress the chuckle his adamant childishness summoned, “And stop laughing at me.”

“I’m not laughing at you,” You instantly rebuked, attempting to smoother your grin to no avail as you joined the line that thankfully only contained two other sleepy-eyed customers besides yourself.

“I can hear your smile through the phone.” He stated all too dryly and you could help but squawk out a laugh that resulted in you getting side-eyed by the clerk who was busy restocking the shelves to your right.

“Don’t worry love,” You soothed, placing your chosen items onto the counter, “I’ll be back before you know it.”

“You better- otherwise I’m leaving you.” Mark declared adamantly, “But only after I eat breakfast, might as well get some sort of compensation.”

 “Honey,” You crooned as you pushed open your door, a task that proved rather difficult as your hands were currently occupied by heavy-weight shopping bags, “I’m home.”

Mark’s only sign of recognition from his spot at you the tiny table you had purchased for the sole purpose of not being falling into the student trope of eating dinner at your coffee-table was a disgruntled hpmf. He scowled at you as he further cocooned himself in the comforter he had completely wrapped around himself, nursing the cup of coffee you had left for him in the microwave in the hand which was also the only part of him besides his face that was visible.

“Finally,” Was all he curtly grumbled out as you shuffled past him in the direction of the adjoining kitchen, “I see you meant almost-almost instead of almost.”

��Is that a Canadian thing or is it just a Mark thing? Because I have no idea what the difference between almost and almost-almost is.” You questioned as you began to distribute your purchases into their designated positions.

“Almost means that I’m two minutes away, almost-almost means that I’m almost, almost ready to leave.” He clarified while begrudgingly trailing after you into the kitchen where he took a seat on the counter.

You took a moment to glance back at him, placing down the sugar you had been busy pouring into its container so that you could quickly scamper over and press a kiss to his jutted out lip, “You learn something new every day.”

His glower only increased at your taunting as you resumed your previous task and left him moping in his blanket on the opposite counter, “I really don’t like it when you leave without telling me.”

“Sorry,” You gave an uncommitted shrug, “I didn’t think it would be necessary because I thought I’d be back before you woke up.”

“I can’t sleep without you,” He griped and you couldn’t help but coo at his endearing admission.

“Well then I’m actually sorry,” You said in complete sincerity shutting the fridge after you had successfully finished resuscitated its contents, quickly swiping one of the few remaining packets as you toddled back over to Mark. “I thought you would want some food seeing as I didn’t have any and you love food so much.”

“We could have ordered,” He countered, only half watching as you began to extract a makeup wipe from the freshly opened packet, “And anyway, I would have been fine without food anyway if it had meant you being here when I woke up. I love just being around you.”

You couldn’t help but scoff, shaking the makeup wipe slightly before raising it to his face to work at the remaining smudges of eyeliner and concealer that still littered his skin, “You’re being awfully confusing you know. I don’t know if you’re annoyed or hopelessly in love with me.”

“Both,” He simply summarised, blinking furiously as you attempted to remove the faded black line from the corner of his eye, “But you know it is rather rude to just leave with no warning, I mean what if one of these times you’re kidnapped and I just think you’ve gone out for some coffee. I mean really you should-”

“Be a little quieter, I’m trying to take your makeup off.” You butted in after you missed a particularly resilient spot of mascara for the second time due to the amount his head was wriggling as he continued to spew out his rambles, “And I already said I was sorry, are you really going to keep whining?”

Mark’s lip jutted out just in time for you to swipe the applicator across it causing him to recoil at the chemical taste and for you to grin at the disgusted look on his face, “Fuck that’s disgusting.”

“Well they aren’t really for eating,” You cooed, giving the left side of his face a final wipe before pulling back, satisfied with your work, “That’s what the food I just went and got you is for.”

Before Mark could voice any further complaints, you smothered his gripes with your lips on his and you couldn’t help the feeling of coy satisfaction as you felt him gradually melt under your presses. He was further sedated when you pulled back, reaching out from his blanket fortress to grab for you when you attempted to step back.

“Nuh-uh, I’m not done yet.”

You allowed yourself to be pulled back, wrapping your hands instinctively around his neck, “I thought you were annoyed with me.”

“I am,” He clarified, a content smile threatening the edges of his mouth, “But I’m also hopelessly in love with you.”

“As you should be- I’m a catch.”

“Alright, maybe I’m just annoyed.”

DRABBLE MASTERLIST. 

[orderuponthe99prettygrimmdiaries]

CNY 15th 🐷

After days weeks of procrastination, I’m finally writing again! Wanted to write last month but got a little too overwhelmed with everything, and then wanted to do it for the start of Chinese New Year, and now it's already the last day of CNY 😅  

So much happened over the past few weeks, considering it's almost 2 months now since my last post.

From a temporary position, now I'm officially a full timer. Last time I wrote about this, I was nervous as heck about it. Honestly I've only finally started easing into the fact that now I'm a full time staff there. And technically back then, I wasn't really sure if I was converted to full time or just that my probation was over (all thanks to my mom adding to the confusion).

But, the road leading up to me easing into this wasn't so simple. Since I was first offered the new job scope, it took about a couple weeks before my colleague actually gave me anything, and during that entire period, I had so much contemplation of leaving, but I felt like that would make me seem impatient.

Anyhoo. I held on. I waited. Finally came the day where my colleague started showing me the ropes, well the 2nd part of it at least, which was to supervise and tally our orders (we're also supposed to do the ordering based on sales and all). I definitely wasn't into it, and I openly admitted it to her, that I doubt I would be staying long there as this isn't really a job I'd like to do.

And then it got a little more dramatic cos she told the boss, thinking that I WAS going to resign. This also made me doubt my other colleague who I had also confided into, and I'm just glad I found out the truth. (Man you can't trust people sometimes) Well basically I found out through my colleague in charge of Human Resources, cos the boss got her to talk to me, wondering if the reason I'm planning to leave is due to the relationships there. I assured her that it was just the job scope. 

The more I thought about it, the more nervous I was that after I left the company without doing anything related to what I wanted to do, I would become more out of touch and then no one was going to hire me. I know people always talk about going for your dreams and all that, and that’s something I truly believe in, but I also didn’t want to have to make my parents worry about me. But despite everything, I still wanted a job that I loved and won’t make me dread waking up every morning. 

Fast forward a week later, she came to talk to me again. Funny thing too, it was right after I took a day off for CNY spring cleaning, which I took the chance to call my counsellor since she checked in with me the day before. Perfect timing too, one of those overwhelming days, and it really helped to talk to her. Definitely missed our sessions. Spoke for almost 30 mins while I was home and my dad was outside my room, so he might have heard some stuff (definitely sounded different speaking to her vs at home) and he did mouth "who is it" but I definitely still didn't feel very comfortable telling them about this side of me. Not yet. 

Back to my convo with my colleague, she explained that apparently there was some sort of miscommunication during our previous meeting with the bosses. Apparently my new job scope wasn't just gonna be logistics and paperwork, they wanted to give me some offline marketing stuff to do too, especially since they know that's what I've studied and that's where my passion lies. We talked for a bit, this time a little more in depth so there won't be any more misunderstanding. She clarified that I won't just be doing ads and I'd still have to do the logistics part, since that's the part they'd mostly need, and those ads definitely won't be done all year round either. She/they also want to let me try out designing, but the thing was there's no one else there that can do designing, so I gotta figure it out myself.

And, so, they gave me the weekend to consider if I was okay with this plan. It was hard, especially when she mentioned that she wishes I would promise to stay for a year or two, as I learn and gain experience doing this. It definitely freaked me out. 6 months already sounds pretty long, let alone a year or two.

I discussed it with so many people - my parents, my trusted inner circle, and again, my counsellor. I finally made my decision and agreed, but on my terms, which of course, I wouldn’t promise to stay a year. I told her I’d do this as long as I felt I was still doing something fulfilling, something that I love, or well, like. She said that was alright and she wouldn’t mention that to the bosses, since what they mainly wanted to know was if I was staying or leaving. 

Well, so I guess that’s that for the work part of my life. It’s the last day of Chinese New Year already, which I already said at the start. Dang, this post is long. But man, time flies. 

CNY had been pretty great. Got to drive both mornings to my uncle’s and aunt’s, and it wasn’t too bad. Of course, I still can’t park hah. Still a lil awks with my cousins, but we did take quite a bit of pics this year too. Speaking of, I finally made my first insta post. It’s been.. maybe a year or two since I created Insta, but I’d been waiting for a perfect moment for my first post. Was meant to be like with my future boyfriend relationship, but God knows how long that’s gonna take. 

BUT, for the first time this Valentine’s, I’VE GOT A DATE. Withhhh... THE CAST AND DIRECTORS OF CAPTAIN MARVEL! Brie Larson, Samuel L Jackson, Gemma Chan, and directors Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck came to Singapore for V day! 

Honestly when they announced the event, I was super excited, but then after hearing that you had to register for the tickets, I thought it’s likely I wouldn’t get them since Marvel fans can be so hardcore. But turns out, on the afternoon of registration day, there were still tickets, and I decided to go for it. Is this considered a spontaneous decision? It kinda sucked that I went alone, but at the same time, it felt good to go out alone for once. Didn’t get to get pics or autographs on the red carpet, but UFFF, breathing the same air as them and getting a great spot to see the event. Gotta say, I really love (AND MISSED) fangirling. And hey, I guess all that standing at work helped built my stamina to stand for hours. Definitely couldn’t feel my legs (or arms) after the event, but surprisingly, it was much better the next day. 

Really hope I’ll get to attend the one for Endgame and Far From Home, at least I’m expecting we’ll get to have similar events for these 2. It’s definitely gonna be wild for Endgame. UFFFFF, I AM SO EXCITED FOR IT. Pretty sure I text my friend about it at least once a week 😅

And speaking of friends, though some people or one can still be an asshat, I’m really glad with how things are working with the rest of them. The few I speak to daily without fail, and others, weekly. Uffff, I really appreciate each and every one of them SO. DAMN. MUCH. 

And surprisingly, I am, well, was, keeping up with my goals and working on my languages. Much inspired by those friends. Managed to keep up a one-month streak there, but then failed eventually because of being busy for CNY. Still very proud of myself though. Hopefully i’ll get back the momentum to it and then be able to attend one of those Duolingo meetup seshs! 

I guess that’s the update for now. Oof, this was real long. So much for procrastinating. Looks like I might still be able to keep up my monthly post goal. FINGERS CROSSED. Anyway, much love to everyone, especially anyone who actually bothered to read through the entire post. 

Xx 

[haru-desune]

hello! i recently read all of Gakuen Babysitter and am now bingeing everything there is for it on A03. i really like your writing! i saw that you were taking prompts, so i was wondering if you'd be interested in doing a shy, pining Hayato. i have a weakness for tough boys who are shy on the inside~

I feel like this fandom needs a flower shop/tattoo parlour AU. I’m 800%writing this now to procrastinate on my media project and will definitelyregret it later but oh well ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (AO3) (FF.Net)

Hayato liked working at Deep Ink tattoo parlour. The pay wasgood, his co-workers were bearable, and the owners of the ramen shop two doorsdown knew his order by heart. Nobody at the parlour minded that he was as bluntas a pair of safety scissors, and he enjoyed making art for a living, thoughhe’d smack anyone who suggested that such a sentimental thought crossed hismind. And of course, there was Green Meadows florists, across the street, whichhad always existed as part of Hayato’s reality, but had recently been in hismind more and more often. It was mostly Yagi’s fault. He might not have evennoticed him if it wasn’t for Yagi.

“Did you hear?” said Yagi as they were opening up theparlour one morning “the flower shop across the street is getting a newemployee.”

“Is that so?” asked Nekota, though by the sound of hervoice, Hayato could tell she wasn’t very interested. To be fair the only gossipshe spared any real attention for concerned Inui, the bartender that shedefinitely did-not-have-a-crush-on-shut-up-Yagi, so Hayato was pretty sure Yagiwouldn’t take it personally. Sure enough the other man only smiled andcontinued.

“Yup. Apparently he’s a college student, living with hisyounger brother, and the human embodiment of sunshine.”

Hayato raised an eyebrow at that last statement and Nekotasnorted. “Where did you get that information from?” she asked as she finishedwiping down the guns and throwing away the wipes. She stretched her arms highabove her head to toss them into the bin like a basketball and revealing thesharp-eyed calico cat inked into her hip, filled in with blotches of colour.

“From Chuukichi of course.”

Ah yes, Yagi’s best friend (and possibly boyfriend though noone could figure out their relationship and Hayato couldn’t be bothered to ask)was a florist at Green Meadows as well.

“I really doubt Nezu-san described someone as ‘the humanembodiment of sunshine’” Hayato said dryly.

Yagi laughed softly, scratching idly at the cherry blossomsthat climbed up his neck. “I may have paraphrased that a bit.”

There was a loud, firm, and deliberate clearing of a throatfrom the receptionist’s desk. “If you have time to gossip, you have time tosweep.” said Inomata sternly, and that was the end of that.

Except it wasn’t. Because later that day Hayato saw him, when he happened to glance outof the big glass windows at the front of the store, and for a second he forgothow to breathe. Brown hair that looked red in the sunlight, bright green apronthat really should have clashed with the red but didn’t, and a laugh soexpressive that Hayato could swear he could hear it all the way across the street.He couldn’t tell what colour his eyes were, but he was sure they’d be every bitas captivating as the man himself.

The Florist, as Hayato had taken to calling him in his head,had an afternoon shift every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday and opened onSaturday. Hayato could see him from the parlour when he came out for his break,or to weep the front, or to water the various colourful plants that hung inbaskets outside the shop. Each week he was treated to snatches of a wide smile,glimpses of his head thrown back in laughter. He had started hanging around thereception desk like a love sick school girl, much to Inomata’s annoyance.

“If you like the man so much, just go across the street andtalk to him.”

“Who said anything about liking him?”

Inomata gave him a thoroughly unimpressed look, and herelented. “I don’t know what I’d say.” he said honestly.

“You’ve never had a problem with speaking your mind,Kamitani-kun.”

“Neither have you, Inomata-san, but I don’t see you speakingto that bubbly florist girl either.”

Inomata snapped her mouth shut at that, and let the topicgo.

Yagi spent a vast majority of his breaks across the streetanyway due to his… whatever with Nezu, but he would now come back with storiesof The Florist- whose name he, infuriatingly, refused to divulge- and flowersfor everyone, and really Yagi might be the only person both brave andself-confident enough to waltz up to Hayato, tuck a flower behind his ear, andpractically skip away to pester Inomata, the only unmarked member of theirteam, into letting him give her a tattoo.

If the latest designs in Hayato’s sketch book had a morefloral theme, well nobody had to know.

Hayato had been standing outside the flower shop for 10minutes. That was one third of his break time. He’d been standing just out ofsight of the inside counter, though he could clearly see that The Florist wason duty. Occasionally he would take a half step forward, before pausing andreturning back to his original position.

“If you don’t go inside, someone’s going to call the police”came a dry voice behind him, and he whipped around to face Nekota, who gave hima sly grin as she arched an eyebrow.

Hayato had to concede she had a point. It didn’t help thatthe sweltering summer heat had driven him to wear a tank top, which exposed theintricate pattern of trailing vines and swirling galaxies that made their wayup to both his shoulders, giving way to the geometric wolf on one shouldermatched by an identically styled falcon on the other, and allowed the crest ofthe wave that adorned his chest to peak past his collar. A heavily tattooed manglaring at a flower shop was probably enough to set off most people’s warningbells.

“What are you even doing here?”

“Needed a reference for a client.”

“Oh really?” Nekota’s smirk grew as she crossed her armsover her chest, the short sleeves of her top riding up to expose the tail ofthe ethereal blue and gold mermaid that marked her left shoulder, the colouringcontrasting sharply with the twisting words of an old love poem that circledboth her upper arms.

“Really.” He replied flatly. “She wants a particular set offlowers. Apparently it’s supposed to mean something.” It was a pretty decentdesign actually, a swirl of five different flowers that spiralled out from nearher heart to under her rib. It was a surprise for her husband, a love story inpetals, from what she had told him. Despite all outward appearances, Hayatocould appreciate a romantic gesture.

“And you couldn’t, I don’t know, Google these flowers?”

“You know as well as I do that a picture isn’t going to giveyou the same feel.”

Nekota grinned, and Hayato felt like he’d just lost acompetition he didn’t know they were having.

“Well then go on, and get your references then.” She shovedhim slightly towards the door, and now that Hayato was in full view of thecounter inside, turning around was no longer an option. He had no choice but togo inside. He glared at her.

“I’m going to kill you.”

“You can try.”

He took a deep breath and opened the door, entering the slightlyhumid, heavily perfumed shop, the sound of Nekota’s cackling still ringing inhis ears, and was met with a pair of the brownest eyes he’d ever seen. For along moment the eyes were the only things taking up his vision, but slowly hetook in everything else, like he was watching a movie scene where the camerawas slowly zooming out. The rest of Brown Eyes’ face was even more enchantingup close, large eyes, pointed nose, and a mouth made for smiling. His cheekswere dusted with a smattering of freckles, probably due to the summer sun,provided an unhelpful corner of his mind. It was only after he realized he hadbeen staring for a while and not speaking that he noticed Brown Eyes wasn’talone. His co-worker, a sleepy-eyed man with long pink hair that would havelooked out of place anywhere but this garden of roses and tulips and azaleasand god knows what else, winked at him like he knew a secret.

“Oh!” he said, pounding a fist on his open palm “You’reanime-kun’s friend. I’ve seen you go with him to the tattoo parlour.”

“A-anime-kun?”

“Nezu-kun’s friend? The one with the cherry blossom tattoo? Andthe pixel-ly ones on his arms? Very anime.”

Hayato quirked an eyebrow, eyeing the man’s pink hair. Hewas about to say something on the matter when Brown Eyes spoke.

“Usaida-san,” he said, exasperation colouring his tone “canyou call someone anime-kun when you yourself have pink hair?”

Usaida waved him off like it didn’t matter, which Hayatosupposed, it really didn’t. Brown Eyes sighed, before turning to Hayato with asmile so bright that he thought his heart might stop right there.

“Welcome to Green Meadows flower shop, how can we help you?”

“I’m sorry to ask, but I need references for a tattoo I’mdesigning. I was hoping you would allow me to sketch some flowers from thisshop?”

“Certainly, which flowers do you need, or will anything do?”

Hayato checked the note he’d made on his phone. “Redcamellias, white carnations, anemone, lavender, and forget-me-nots.” He wassure at least one of those was a fish. Or the house of a fish? Something fishrelated anyway.

The other man’s eyes lit up. “In love, fascination, sincerity,faithfulness, and true love. A special tattoo then. Your customer must reallylove someone indeed.” He coloured up suddenly. “I’m sorry, it’s just that Ifind hanakotoba really cool.”

Hayato tried not to be distracted by the sight of the manblushing. “Ah, it’s no problem. It’s kind of cool that you know it off the topof your head like that. I didn’t even realize they had a meaning until myclient explained it.”

The man turned a deeper shade of red, and turned, ostensiblyto look for the plants in question. Usaida smirked at Hayato when Brown Eyeswasn’t looking.

“I think we should have most of these around. Oh, wait,we’re out of white carnations, but there are some red ones here so at least youcan get the shape right…” The man trailed off hunting for the flowers he’dneed, before lining them up on the back counter. “You can step back here andsketch without anyone bothering you.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem. Any friend of Yagi-kun is welcome here. I’mKashima Ryuuichi, by the way.” He said with a smile so infectious that Hayatohad to smile back.

“Kamitani Hayato.”

Weeks passed of Hayato finding (making, according to Yagi)excuses to go back to the flower shop. Managing to talk more and more withKashima until suddenly they were friends. They had exchanged numbers at somepoint, and Hayato hadn’t emailed anyone this regularly since his school days.

“You’re adorable” Yagi cooed when he caught him smiling athis phone screen for the umpteenth time as they were closing up.

“Gross, more like.” Nekota said “Just ask him out and put usall out of our misery. You already have lunch with him at least once a week.”

“I’m not going to ask him out.” Hayato said, scowling atthem.

“What! Why not?” asked Nekota and Yagi together. EvenInomata looked up from organizing the day’s records and fixed him with anexasperated look, which Hayato thought was supremely unfair as she had yet totalk to bubbly florist girl- whose name was Ushimaru apparently.

“We’re friends now, I don’t want to make it weird.” He saidwith a shrug, trying to pretend that it didn’t take years off his life tryingto control his heartbeat every time he was around Kashima.

Nekota made a disgusted noise, and Inomata shook her head.Yagi just looked thoughtful.

“If you change your mind, can you wait a month to ask him? Ihave money riding on this.”

Hayato felt completely justified in hitting him.

“Kamitani?” Hayato blinked at Kashima, whose voice was tightin a way that indicated that he was trying not to laugh.

“Yes?”

“Did you know you have a flower behind your ear?”

Hayato’s hand flew up to inspect the offending appendage,and sure enough there was a thin stemmed yellow flower nestled there. “I’mgoing to murder Yagi.” He growled, carefully removing the plant.

Kashima did laugh at that. “Don’t” he said, plucking theflower out of his hands and leaning over to replace it. “It’s cute.”

Hayato couldn’t speak, too busy trying to deal with theblaring alarms and the panicked TOO CLOSEthat spun through his brain. Kashima smiled at him before calmly returning towork. Hayato might have heard Nezu snort, but he wasn’t sure. He bit back agroan. This man was going to kill him.

KASHIMA: HeyKamitani are you busy on Sunday? Want to meet up? I’m taking my brother out ifyou want to tag along.

Hayato looked at the message on his phone. Of course the onetime Kashima wanted to meet outside of work would be the day he’d gotten ropedinto taking Taka to some museum or something for a class project.

YOU: Sorry, butI’m helping my brother with some school work on Sunday.

KASHIMA: Oh,maybe some other time then.

Hayato shook his head, trying not to get his hopes up at thepromise of a future meet up. “It’s not adate, Hayato.” He told himself, before calling out to his brother.

“Hey brat, where am I taking you Sunday?”

“I’m not a brat, don’t be a jerk Aniki!”

“Just answer the question squirt.”

“Someday I’m going to be taller than you.” Taka grumbled,scowling up at him.

“Keep dreaming. Now answer the damn question.”

“The natural history museum.” Taka pouted

“Great. Did you finish your homework?”

“Um…”

“Finish your homework.”

“You’re not the boss of me!”

“You wanna test that theory?” Hayato glared, raising athreatening fist, and Taka gulped.

“Homework. Going. Now!”

“Good. Maybe ifyou finish early I might play MarioKart with you.”

Taka’s face lit up at the promise and he raced off to finishhis homework. Hayato sighed, looking back down at his phone.

YOU: I’ll holdyou to it.

Hayato decided that the only thing worse than a Sundaymorning car ride with a hyperactive Taka was a Sunday morning car ride with a hyperactiveTaka and no coffee.

“So who are you working on this assignment with again?”

“My best friend and partner in crime.”

Hayato snorted “People don’t say that in real life.”

“I just said it right now, didn’t I?”

“Fair enough. Does this best friend of yours have a name?”

“His name is Kotaro, he’ll meet us there with his brother.We’re writing our report on dinosaurs. I think the T-rex is the coolest, butKotaro likes the stegosaurus the best which is stupid because…”

Hayato let the rest of Taka’s blabbering fade into whitenoise as he focused on driving, finally pulling into the museum parking.

“Kotaro said we’ll meet at the gates.”

Hayato nodded and let his brother half drag him to thegates, stifling a yawn.  Hey heard Takagive a yell before he half-hugged half-tackled another boy who took the wholething with a resigned stoicism. So this was the famous best friend, huh. Heglanced at the brother standing next to him who was laughing at the scene,greetings halfway out of his mouth before his brain registered a familiar face.

“Hello I’m K- Kashima!?”

The other man laughed, a clear sound that woke Hayato upfaster than a triple espresso shot.

“Looks like we won’t have to reschedule after all.”

Hayato had never been so glad his mother had forced him towear a decent shirt. Sure the sleeves were rolled up to the elbows and he waswearing an old pair of black jeans and some ratty Vans, but at least he lookedhalfway okay. A part of his brain was urgently reminding him that this was not a date but he was really too sleepyto register it.

Kashima looked him over once, and Hayato was almost certainhe saw his eyes linger on the sleeves that were exposed on his forearms and thepetals of the cactus flower that touched his collar bone, a more recentaddition which had made Kashima turn various shades of red when he first sawit. He had gotten done because he liked the shape of the flower, but after thatreaction he had to look up thehanakotoba and then couldn’t meet Kashima’s eye for a week.

“You look good.”

“Thanks. You too.” Said Hayato, a little hoarsely. And itwasn’t a lie. Kashima, in a plaid shirt and jeans and no apron made his breathhitch. “This is not a date” histreacherous mind supplied. “Shut it!” he growled under his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing, I mean let’s head in.”

This was not the first time Hayato was distracted byKashima’s hands. The other man had a habit of tapping his fingers when he wasnervous or had nothing else to do. They were nice fingers, Hayato had notedlong ago, slender and elegant with dirt under the nails more often than not. Hehad often wondered what those fingers would feel like intertwined with his. Kashimawould usually lay his free hand on the table while eating, fingers splayed,occasionally tapping a gentle rhythm onto the table, and it would be so easyfor Hayato to just reach out and tangle his own with them, holding them still.

Walking together through the museum was agony. Kashima’shands were just millimetres away, all he had to do was reach out a little andthey would be walking hand in hand. Every time Kashima’s hand brushed his asthey walked, Hayato felt a jolt of electricity course through him, making himhyperaware of his surroundings, yet he never wanted to leave this moment.

It was that moment standing in the museum with Kashima, hisbrain still screaming that this was not a date, that Hayato realized that thiscould not keep going on.

YOU: Hey I’mthinking of getting a new tattoo, what do you think?

Hayato sent the message with clearest picture of his sketch.A green dragon with a surprisingly gentle face, coiled in on itself andsurrounded by a burst of colour. Cherry blossom for kindness, pansy forthoughtful, hibiscus for gentle, lily of the valley for sweet,  sunflower for respect but also for passionatelove, gardenia for secret love, yellow camellias for longing, carnations forfascination, anemones for sincerity, and red roses for love.

He sent the message, and then he waited.

Come morning there was still no message from Kashima, and itwas with heavy legs and a heavy heart that Hayato walked into the parlour, onlyto be greeted by a large bouquet of flowers on the reception desk. Well atleast Inomata was succeeding where he was failing.

“Kamitani-kun.” Said Inomata, her voice laced with somethingunidentifiable as she took in his dejected expression. “Delivery for you.”

“Oh is it behind the giant bouquet of flowers?” he asked,bitterly.

“No, idiot, it isthe giant bouquet of flowers.”

Hayato’s head whipped up, taking in the flowers properly forthe first time. There were sunflowers here too, and red roses, though pink wasalso thrown into the mix, for happiness. Anemones, yellow camellias,carnations. But there were also zinnia for loyalty, Violets for honesty, redtulips for trust, peonies for bravery, and morning glory for wilful promises.His chest felt tight and warm, while something like hope swirled in hisstomach.

“I have to go.”

He ran out of the parlour and across the road, bursting intothe shop and making Ushimaru jump.

“Is Kashima here yet?”  

Her face lit up in understanding, and she pointed to thebackroom and then let out a little squeak as he hopped over the counter insteadof waiting for her to open the little gate that kept the counters an “employeesonly” area. He marched into the back room, and there he was, digging around abo of hydrangeas.

“Kashima.”

The man jumped and looked up, and Hayato froze. Kashima’seyes were still the brownest he’d ever seen.

“Kamitani.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

“I couldn’t- you didn’t- I thought I had scared you off.” Hesaid finally, voice soft.

“I’m sorry. I should have said something, but you had put somuch thought into it and well… words weren’t enough.”

“So is that a yes?”

Kashima gave him a look. “Come on Kamitani, I know you’vepicked up on enough hanakotoba to figure it out.”

Hayato’s lips quirked upwards on their own accord “Justchecking.”

He strode towards Kashima, slowly, deliberately, giving the manample opportunity to stop him. He wrapped his arms around him, pulling him intoan embrace, and placing a light kiss on his forehead.

Kashima made an impatient noise, standing on his toes topress their lips together, and Hayato saw fireworks. He groaned into the kiss,leaning down to make himself more accessible, backing them up until Kashima’sback was pressed against the wall. They broke apart, grinning.

“Does this mean I can call you Ryu?”

“It’d be kind of weird if you didn’t… Hayato.”

Hayato swallowed heavily, that would take some getting usedto. In a good way.

Kashima- no, Ryu- looked up at him through his lashes. “Areyou really going to get that tattoo?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Maybe on our wedding day.”

Hayato choked on air, and then laughed, pressing his faceinto Ryu’s neck. This man was going to kill him.

A/N- Did someone ask for an entire paragraph of Hayato agonizing overhand holding? No? Well I gave it to you anyway. The meaning of cactus flowers,if you were wondering, is lust/sex. I honestly don’t know if some of those flowerswould work in a bouquet but let’s pretend that our boy Ryu found a way. I havethis AU weirdly sorted out in my head so if anyone wants to know anything aboutit (Tattoos, occupations, life stories, etc.) feel free to ask because I’m tootired to write. Anyway, hit me up on tumblr if you want to see more, I’mbards-against-hoomanity. Shoot me an ask if you’ve got a prompt, usual termsand conditions apply. Love you guys and I hope you enjoyed this!