#anyways happy waddle wednesday

[veveisveryuncool]

Bandanna Dee makes a realistic cake of King Deedede hammer. Kirby gets confused

here is Bandanna Dee making a realistic cake of King Deedede hammer and Kirby gets confused.

[quinn-pop]

kirby stuffs but it’s just bluey quotes

bonus: crying

okay ill be back when im older

[callme-dickmaster]

Basket Case

Ch. Four - Stalking

summary: creepy mistakes lead to the most unlikely of confrontations with unlikely allies cw: this may be v long, afab! reader, minimal use of y/n, bullying, language, noncon nudes, the jonathan situation, author's note: I hope you're all enjoying this story

Wednesday, November 9th, 1983

Nancy played with the hem of the shirt she borrowed from your old clothes. She was happy you had somewhat forgiven her and you could start to be friends now. "What's this song?" Nancy asked, turning up the radio. You looked at her suspiciously, "You like Iron Maiden?" you asked, glancing at the road.

Nancy shrugged, "I like this one?" she giggled.

You chuckled, "It's Run to the Hills. I-I can give you the tape if you want?" you offered, nervously tapping the steering wheel. You sighed, parking your car in the school parking lot.

"You sure you're alright being seen with me? I mean, what if people laugh?" you asked nervously. Nancy grabbed your hand with a smile, "It's okay. We're friends now. And, hey, you get a free pass to throw whatever kind of mustard...sauce mixture you want at me as paycheck," she giggled.

You smirked and rolled your eyes, clambering out of the car and stretching your ankles in your heavy shoes. Nancy waited for you to walk inside, and you walked into school together, ignoring all the stares. You were walking through the halls, talking to Nancy Wheeler of all people with a smile. You separated with a mutual "see ya!" and you sat through your first classes with a yawn.

You stomped through the halls, trying to ignore Eddie inviting you to his band's next gig and sat next to Jonathan like you did every day. "Bologna again?" he smiled, giving you his sandwich and taking yours.

You huffed and nodded, "She wants me to starve," you grumbled.

Jonathan chuckled, "Maybe she just wants to sneak some protein in your diet," he said. You rolled your eyes, mumbling "whatever" when Mr. Kaminsky waddled into the classroom. After the same excruciatingly boring class the two wandered through the halls to the yearbook red room. You munched on your lunch, Jonathan's hurry to develop the pictures going unnoticed by you.

Nicole Anderson walked into the room, greeting Jonathan with a smile. "Oh, hey..." he mumbled, snatching his pictures and saying a hurried goodbye to you. You stared at the door with a weird look but shrugged and kept eating anyway. Nicole shuffled around the room, trying to develop her own photos.

"Um, y/n?" she said, scratching her nose. You glared up at the redhead, trying to show you didn't want to be disturbed.

"D-did you see what he was doing?" Nicole asked nervously. You shrugged, shaking your head. "Why?" you asked, seeing the uneasy look on the girl's face. Nicole sighed, biting her lip and dropping a photo into the tub of developer.

"They were...weird. Like, they didn't know he was there weird. It looked like Steve Harrington's house. I know he had a party last night, so..." the girl said, swishing the liquid and watching the picture come through.

You furrowed your eyebrows, "I dunno. I never really pay attention to what he's putting up. I don't think he cares enough about Steve to do that though," you said, biting into your snack cake. Nicole frowned, hanging up her photos.

"Debbie cake?" you offered, holding the sponge cake out for the girl. Nicole smiled, taking the snack cake from you. "Well, if you really think it's them and you really think he was taking stalker pictures, I think we should tell them. I-I could tell Steve next period? We're paired up for a project," you shrugged, tossing your lunch bag as the bell rang.

Nicole nodded, gathering her things. "You're not how I though you were..." Nicole said, giving you a crooked smile. "I never am," you said, returning it with a tight-lipped smile of your own and wandered off to Mrs. Click's class. Steve was already there, sitting in his new seat next to your empty chair.

"Hi," you muttered, your voice barely audible over the chatter of the classroom. "Hey! Um, hey, listen...a-about the other day and...and the party. I feel like shit and, I don't know, it just wasn't cool..." Steve stuttered, running a hand through his hair.

You nodded and shrugged, "S'whatever. I'm used to it by now," you mumbled, pulling out your notebook. Steve pursed his lips and sighed, grabbing his notes and setting them out on the table. You both worked quietly on their parts of the project until you decided to speak up.

"Uh, Steve?" you said nervously. He hummed, looking up at you. "I need to tell you something..." you mumbled, picking at your thumb. "What's up?" he asked, furrowing his brows.

You stuttered your way through your explanation, fumbling with your fingers as you unintentionally threw Jonathan under the bus. He had a right to know. They were pictures of him and his friends in his own backyard. Even if you hated his friends, you had to admit it was pretty strange.

"And you didn't know about this?" Steve asked, running a hand through his hair. You shook your head frantically. "No! I didn't even know he was out last night! I was home all night," you exclaimed. Steve nodded with a sigh of relief. "I just needed to make sure. I know he's your friend or whatever..." he trailed off, "Thank you for telling me. How about we all talk to him together?" he offered.

You shrugged, tapping your pencil. Steve moved his desk closer to yours and leaned close, "Please?" he pleaded. You sighed, narrowing your eyes at the boy. "Fine..." you grumbled, snapping your pencil in half as the bell rang. You grabbed your stuff and reluctantly followed Steve outside, showing him to Jonathan's car. "I-it's this one..." you mumbled. Tommy, Carol, and Nicole stalked up the hill as Steve pushed himself up on the trunk. He patted the space beside him, motioning for you to sit beside him. You dropped your bag on the concrete and pulled yourself up onto the car, crossing your legs and dropping your head into your hands.

You felt weird. Sitting with Steve Harrington and his friends like they'd never done anything wrong. Like you were all of a sudden comfortable with each other.

Tommy and Carol ignored you, save for a simple nod of acknowledgement from the boy and Nicole tapped her foot impatiently. She was supposed to be cheering at the game, so you guessed she was anxious to get her uniform on and get ready.

Steve snuck small glances at you beside him, noticing little details he never saw before on you. How dark the circles under your eyes were, the fact your hair was actually brown instead of black like he thought, your chipped nail polish and hands...All distracted him from Jonathan walking up the hill to his car.

"Hey, man..." Steve greeted, hopping off the trunk. You struggled to get back on solid ground behind him, stumbling a bit and grabbing Steve's arm so you didn't face plant onto the ground. "Nicole and y/n were, uh, telling us about your work!" Steve said.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," Jonathan mumbled, trying to push through them but Tommy stole his bag before he could get far. The dodgy looks and the way he was panicking over his bag made him seem way more guilty. "Oh, wow, he is totally trembling. He must really have something to hide," Steve said, digging in Jonathan's bag for the photos. They were conveniently on top of everything, and it was just as Nicole said. Pictures of Steve, Nancy, Tommy, and Carol in Steve's backyard swimming and laughing together. Some more shots of the house through the window showed Nancy and Steve talking and one of Nancy taking her shirt off.

"Jonathan..." you whispered, grabbing for a couple of the photos.

"I was looking for my brother..." Jonathan tried, every vein in his body was on fire with guilt and dread. "No, this is called stalking!" Steve said, rolling up his stack of pictures. You handed your stack to Tommy standing next to you and put a hand to your temple in complete stress. You pulled your coat around you tighter and buried your nose in your shoulder.

You didn't know what to think now. You knew Jonathan was a good guy and he would never do anything like this maliciously, but to take these kinds of pictures was way out of line. Blame it on a moment of weakness, you guessed.

"What's going on?" Nancy asked, clutching the strap of her bag as she approached.

"There's the starring lady," Tommy snickered, grinning at the girl.

Nancy furrowed her eyebrows, "What?" she asked, "This creep was spying on us last night...he was probably gonna save this one for later," Carol replied. She passed the topless photo to Nancy, her eyes widening when she fully processed that it was indeed her in the picture. You walked over, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I had no idea...if I knew he was there..." you trailed off, taking the picture from her.

Steve took it and ripped it up along with the rest of the photos. "So...we just have to take away his toy," Steve said, tossing the ripped-up pieces in Jonathan's face.

"No. Please, not the camera!" Jonathan pleaded, trying to grab his things when Tommy stopped him. You shook your head, "Steve, c'mon...I-I don't think-," he interrupted you with a 'wait' finger. "It's okay," Steve said, holding out the camera for him, "Here you go."

Jonathan visibly deflated in relief until Steve let the camera slip from his fingers and smash onto the pavement. It hissed pitifully, earning a wince from you and Nancy. Tommy giggled dumbly, wrapping an arm around Carol as she tossed the rest of the photos at the boy scrambling for the pieces of his camera. You watched them go, turning back to look at your friend. You wanted to say something. Wanted to tell him how stupid it was to do such a thing.

"Hey, Nance! C'mon!" Steve called. Nancy hurriedly picked up the pieces of a picture of Barb and met her boyfriend at the bottom of the hill. "Y/n!" you whirled around; confusion painted all over you. "You coming?" Steve asked, his arm around Nancy.

You stuttered, looking from Jonathan to Nancy and Steve. "Come on, loser! Are you really going to blow your chance?!" Carol rolled her eyes. You pursed your lips and bowed your head. I'm the worst. You thought as you sulked over to the group who was waiting for you. Nancy took your hand and smiled softly.

You followed them inside to the hallway outside the gym, still knowing better than to look Tommy or Carol in the eye. "Lucky you weren't there, huh, weirdo?" Tommy said, nudging you. "Who knows what he would've taken of you?" he added. You shook your head, still trying to defend your friend in your mind. "He probably wouldn't..." you said, a weak smile crossing your lips as you ran to catch up to Nancy.

You decided it was best to stay next to her, actively ignoring Carol's story about how she got detention for mouthing off to Mr. Mundy. Nancy poked your arm and whispered to you slowly. "Can you drive me somewhere?" she asked. You nodded discreetly, digging in your bag for your keys. "Whoa, where you going?" Steve asked as you and Nancy walked away. "Uh- I-I totally forgot. Um..." Nancy trailed off.

"Sleepover. At my place. She left her clothes and stuff at mine last night anyways and we're supposed to get dinner, so..." you filled in, jingling your keys. Steve grabbed his jacket as he stood, scrambling to get you to stay. "The game's about to start!" he tried, "I'm sorry," Nancy sighed, pulling you along with her.

Nancy threw her bag in the car, buckling in with a huff. "Where to?" you asked, starting the car. "Steve's. I think something happened to Barb."

:)

[magolors-mailbox]

Happy Popstar anniversary, Magolor! How do they usually celebrate over there? I imagine Kirby brings over a cake?

Hi there, thanks for asking!

Apologies for taking so long to respond... I've been a very busy guy with the party and getting Magoland back up and running afterwards! I guess I should explain everything to do with that.

To celebrate the anniversary, I held a big week long event here at Merry Magoland! Fireworks displays every night, prices slashed in half, a stamp rally event, new merchandise... some really cool stuff! 

For the day itself, even though it was Magolor Day, I actually shut down the park and traveled over to Kirby's house in the Lor. Kirby, Bandana Waddle Dee, King Dedede, Meta Knight, and my other good friend Marx were all there to celebrate with me! Kirby and Dedede baked me a really cool cake, Meta Knight got me a HUGE display case for my sword, Bandana Waddle Dee bought me a new set of crayons, and Marx organised a fireworks display near Castle Dedede! Marx's one was a surprise. I didn't know he knew how to do things like that! Maybe I should get him to help out at the park from time to time... Anyway, it was a lovely day!

Even though the park was closed, I thought I should wear my Manager garb anyway to celebrate. Here's a photo that Marx took!

After the celebration I took the Monday off to relax, and spent Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday fully focused on getting Magoland back up and running as normal. Since then, some of mine and/or Kirby's other friends have stopped by to wish me a happy anniversary too. Taranza even baked me up some cookies!

THANK-YOU again for sending this question! I always love to answer 'em.

[eelsteel]

Cohost is fucking dead gamers (https://cohost.org/staff/post/7611443-cohost-to-shut-down) and i dont have anywhere else in mind to go so im back now i guess. There wasnt much going on with one punch man over there anyways and what was actually happening was just the porn which was lame. I see i got tagged on some waddle dee posts im going to reblog those now. Happy wagled deee wednesday!

[xxreader-writerxx]

Found

Word Count: 3.7k

Dad! Fred Weasley x Fem! Reader (Granger and mum too)

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of food, sort of sad, abandonment issues, pregnancy, vomiting, not a lot but tell me if I missed any.

A/N: I'm obsessed with dad fred ok?

Y/N= Your Name L/N= Your Last Name Y/H= Your House, Y/N/N: Your Nickname

"I'm sorry! I-It's just that between the shop, and Umbridge, and my mum- It's all too much and I can't also-" Fred says as I feel tears drip down my cheeks. "You also can't have me? I didn't know that I was such a burden Fred. If I knew I wouldn't of burdened you for three fucking years." I say and he looks at me hurt. "No- No! I didn't mean that- Baby" He begins but I let out a choked laugh. "You can't call me that. No not when you are breaking up with me. That's not fair." I cry and he tries to move closer but I take a step back picking up the clothes in my closet. "W-What are you doing?" He asks and I throw his shirts at him as I grab his things on the bottom. "I can barely face you now. I'm not facing you to give you your things back." I tell him and I hear a choked cry. "Please don't do this. We can still be friends." He tells me and I laugh through my tears. "You can't call me a burden and say that shit line." I tell him. I turn around to see tears strolling down his face, barely any because of the fight he is putting up.

I finally cry and wrap my arms around him. He places his hand on my head and the other on my back, holding me where I was. "I'm so sorry" He whispers in my hair and I just sob into his shirt. He finally leaves when George calls him and I watch from my window the fireworks off in the distance. I sit down on my bed and feel myself break mentally. 'I don't know how I will do this on my own.' I think to myself staring at the pregnancy test I took yesterday. I was planning on telling him but when he clumped me in with his burdens, it was too hard. I just curl up into a ball crying until I fall asleep.

***

"HERMIONE HE'S DOING IT AGAIN- FINN" I yell as the baby flings his lunch at me. "SWITCH!" She yells back in the same worried tone. I grab Ginger my other newborn as she grab my spoon and place her on her tray. She fights me as I try to swaddle her and I plead her silently. I hear the doorbell ring and Hermione perks up. "Don't you dare-" She begins but I place Ginger in her cot and run out to see who it is.

I open the door and my breath hitches lightly. "Hey Y/n..." George says nervously. He looks up and does a double take. "A-Are you alright?" He stutters at my appearance. "Yeah just work getting ahead of me." I explain and he nods. "So... Watcha doing here? For the first time.. In a year..." I mumble the last part and he looks around confused. "Where's Hermione. She invited me saying something about needing to tell me something." He explains. "HERMIONE" I groan and she walks out and smiles at George. "You made it!" She exclaims and I point at her. "You're dead." I say and I run towards her angrily.

"WHAT THE HELL YOU CALLED GEORGE?!"

"LOOK I CAN'T TELL YOU ENOUGH THEY NEED A MALE INFLUENCE AND SURE AS HELL FRED WON'T BE IT SINCE YOU HAVE NO GUTS, HE'S THE BEST OPTION."

"I CAN DO THIS ON MY OWN" I yell back and she sends a firm smack to the side of my head. "YOU ARE 19 YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE TO!" She yells back and George finally made it over to us confused as hell. "As much as I love the Granger sisters fighting over me... This is not what I had in mind." He points and I groan at the sound of Finn crying. "Look what you made me do." I tell her and she gasps starting to rant again. I walk into the baby's room. I smile sweetly at the boy crying in his cot.

"Hi baby..." I whisper and he gurgles at me smiling. I walk over and pick him up, rocking him lightly. I sit down on my rocker and he swiftly falls back asleep. I reach my free hand to poke inside of Ginger's cot, her hand wrapping around my finger. I smile at the two and hear a gasp. "Y/n-" He begins and I shush him softly, not taking my eyes off my baby boy. "He's asleep." I whisper, too distracted by my ginger baby to register what's going on.

"W-Who are the parents?" He asks kneeling in front of the rocker to rub a knuckle against his head lightly. "They're mine..." I whisper and look up, a tear dripping down my face that clearly gives away my happy smile. "What do you mean? Its only been a year since you two-" He stops realizing what happened. "Is this my nephew?" He asks smiling softly at him. "Maybe." I whisper and he looks at me smiling with tears sliding down his cheeks. "C-can I hold him? Or her?" He asks, guessing at the colors of their sleeping sacks. I smile sweetly getting up. I hand him Finn softly and he gasps at the size of the baby in his hands. "Y/n- You're 19. How- Why?" He asks and I sigh, rubbing my knuckle into Finn's chest lightly. "My sister has helped but honestly I don't know. It's been a crazy year." I explain. "I'm willing to help. Especially now." He tells me and I smile.

***

I pick up Ginger trying to put her shoes on her as she gurgles in protest. "Hey baby you gotta wear shoes now that you're walking, that's the deal." George explains and she gurgles lightly as if she understood. He's fighting Finn to get his shoes on and I finally put on Ginger's. "Tough ones we got here." He says, wiping sweat from his brow. His arm getting hit by a flying tantrum going on next to him. He looks at him and shakes his head chuckling. He scoops up the almost two year old in his arms and laughs. "He is a kicker." He tells me and we finally get them dressed. "Ugh we really need to stop bringing them to the shop, its getting risky." I tell him and he laughs as if I said the best joke ever. "There is no way these kids are being raised without knowing the joke shop, and plus Fred is off on Wednesdays." He explains and I nod curtly.

We walk to the shop talking about the kids who are settled on our hips. "So I will take up cleaning tomorrow if you bring them to the park the next day and I think there might be a Hermione visit. And I bought some baby food with solid because I don't know if they will still like it-" I begin but get cut off by George chuckling. "You are overthinking this. You are a great mum and if they won't eat solid,  you have a blender." He explains and I nod. He's been amazing at calming my anxiety when it come to the kids. He took the role as helpful uncle and comes over all the time but makes sure he doesn't overstep. I make my way inside the shop and he makes his way to customers. I get to the till having Ginger in her stroller next to me. Every hour he switches with me saying they need time with their mama.

The shop finally closes and he helps me with the stroller up the steps. We quickly make our way to the room and Ginger gets up waddling to his bed. I fold his clothes as they play on the bed. I hear a muffled conversation as me and the kids stay quiet. He walks in and Finn gasps reaching out for him. He hands him the milk and Ginger whines until we pass the milk quickly to her. She lays on her back playing with her feet as she drinks her milk.

"These kids..." He laughs. He grabs Finn and opens the door. "Fred's gone don't worry. He will be for the next hour." He tells me to my worried expression. I nod and he comes back with Finn in a new diaper and hands him to me. "He has been kicking me lately. The little bugger." He says rubbing his arm. I laugh and nuzzle my nose against his. "He's obviously like his father." I state and he nods smiling.

***

I make my way into the shop searching for George as the two toddlers point out everything. I hear Ginger gasp and bolt. I run after her clutching on to Finn. I look around scared as shit I lost my baby. When I hear someone talking to her.

"UNCLE RORGE!" I hear her squeal and I laugh realizing she found her uncle. "What sweetheart? Where's your mother?" I hear a voice ask laughing. "Uncle Rorgeeee. You promised me you would bring treats!!" She complains as I look for the aisle they're in. "I'm sorry little one but I'm not George. I'm Fred. What's your name?" He asks and I freeze. "Isn't Red daddy's name?" Finn asks and I can't answer. He slides out of my grasp, obviously knowing where Ginger is. I yell after him and see the man Ginger was talking to. I gasp lightly and she's giggling.

"Uncle Rorge that's not your name! Your name is Rorge. R-O- MUMMY! I FOUND UNCLE RORGE." She points out. "There's your mum. Hello ma'am- Y/n?" He asks confused. "C'mon Ginger. Uncle George is probably somewhere." I say not answering I pick her up as she cries saying Uncle George is right in front of her. I quickly scoop Finn up and quickly walk to find George. "Y/n! What- Crap its Wednesday." He says shocked. He grabs Finn from my hands and bounces him lightly. "UNCLE RORGE TEL-TELR- HE USED A PORTAL" Ginger tries and I nod rubbing her hands. "You- Oh no- Oh shit- Oh sorry-" George stutters. "I'm going to hide in your office now-" I state and he grabs my hand. "You need to face him. He is their father." He tells me and I wipe a tear from my eyes. "I can't George. Not yet." I say and he drops my hand nodding. "C'mon then." He tells me and I walk to the office with him.

I hear banging on the door and it finally opens. "Y/n-" He gasps and I ignore him playing with Ginger. "Y/nnnn" I hear him say again. "Yes Fredrick?" I ask and he tugs my shoulder playfully and George walks in. "Great, your on babysitting duty." I say and George tries to protest but I try and bolt. Fred stops me. He moves carefully so I can't get past him. "A-Are you sheep dogging me?" I ask and he shrugs. "If it works. Now when did Y/n Granger start babysitting?" He asks and I try to move past him. "Two years ago. When you broke my heart, remember that?" I ask and his smile turns into a frown. "I've been trying to get a hold of you. Every day for an hour I question Hermione or someone." He tells me and I laugh. "Anyways- I need to-"

"MUMMY FINN 'OOK MY BLANKET!!!" Ginger screeches. I turn around and George is trying to help the best he can. "I- They fight over everything-" He tries and I laugh walking over. "C'mere baby." I say to Finn. I take the blanket from his hands and he sobs. I grab the dummy and pop it in his mouth, calming him instantly. "Mummy?" He asks and I sigh. "They're two." I explain. I watch the gears turn in his head. "I- No- Wait- Are- What- No-" He stutters, shocked. "Yep. Meet Ginger and Finn Weasley- Well Granger-Weasley. Felt wrong to take the fathers name out." I explain and he collapses to his knees. "UNCLE RORGE! THERE ARE TWO!!!" Ginger states, finally looking around.

***

"Mummy. Mummy. Mummy. Mummyyyy." I hear Finn complain next to me. "Yes light of my life?" I ask sighing. "When's daddy coming? And when's dinner? And why are bananas curved? And why are me and Ginger's hair red when yours is brown? Do we get that from Daddy? Where is daddy?" He questions. "Finny- Baby- Daddy is coming in twenty minutes. Dinner will be done in an hour. I don't know, I need to google it. Yes daddy gave you ginger hair. And on his way." I explain turning so we can google it together. "Ok so bananas are curved so they can get sun." I explain. He nods and slides out of my lap. "Thank you mummy!" He yells behind him as he runs.

The doorbell rings and I open it to see Fred. I give him a quick hug as we all sit down for dinner, Fred answering all of Finn's wild questions as I listen to Ginger tell me its paghetti not spaghetti. We all finish and I clean the dishes while Fred reads them a story. He walks out and sighs laughing. "Ginger just had a long ass argument about how an elephant not a giraffe was in  Africa. She does not realize that she can't read." He tells me and I laugh. "She refuses to admit it. Yesterday she tried reading to Finn. Pride and Prejudice was a ballsy move." I explain and he laughs. "My girl would do that." He says. "Want to watch a movie?" He asks and I sigh. "Fred you need to head home soon." I tell him and he nods sighing. "I know... But can't two friends watch the thrilling and sexy adventure of- Aurora?" He says picking up a random tape.

I laugh and take the tape shaking my head. "I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea Fred." I tell him, poking his nose. "Then let's make it the correct idea." He boldly puts. I chuckle taking the blankets from the couch. "What do you mean Fred?" I ask and he moves to hold my arms lightly. "I want to be yours. And- And I want you to be mine." He states and I look at him shocked. "Don't do this Fred." I whisper and his smile falters for a second. "Do what?" He asks softly.

"Don't do this." I say circling my arms between us. "Fred I love you but based off of three years ago, you don't love me. And I finally found my peace with that. But please. Please do not say you love me when I know you don't. I love that you are such an amazing father that you would throw yourself into an unhappy relationship just for them. But I can't. I don't want fake. I want your real love. And I won't allow myself to accept the man I love to say he loves me when he doesn't." I rant and he pulls me closer. "That's not why I'm saying that. Please." He whispers the last part, placing his forehead against mine. "Fred. I'm not going to be a burden again. That's why I couldn't tell you about those two amazing kids in there. I'm not using them as a way to have you again." I say and he looks at me with hurt eyes. "At least allow me a movie. Just a movie. I don't care if you say I don't love you when I do. But I just want to hold you again." He whispers and I sigh. "A movie."

I sit down on the couch and he slides next to me. "I do love you, more than the world." He whispers and I feel my eyes sting from tears trying to leave. I hear Ginger cry and I get up instinctively. "She's been having bad dreams lately." I tell him wrapping my jacket around myself. "Sit down. I got her." He tells me and I nod sighing.

I hear the baby monitor register him entering their room and I grab it to see what's going on.

"Daddy!" She sobs clutching to her fathers shirt. "Hey little one. What's wrong?" He asks calmly, wiping her face. "I had a bad dream. I got up and Finn was gone and mummy and you. Then there was a dragon and it chased me!" She sobs and he holds her close nodding. "Look baby. There's Finn. And mummy is right in the living room." He assures her. "But every time I wake up you aren't here anymore. You always leave. Why can't you stay? Mummy makes pancakes every Wednesday and she tells us they used to be your favorite. And- And why don't you stay?" She cries into his shirt, breaking his heart. "I'm so so sorry baby. I would stay. I would. But I can't right now. But I promise I will be one day." He tries. "Why don't you and mummy have rings?" She suddenly asks and he looks at her confused. "What do you mean baby?" He asks and she digs her face into his shirt more. "Sophie's mummy and daddy have rings. And they always hug. Why do you and  mummy not do that?" She asks and he smiles at her softly. "Because mummy and daddy are a little different than Sophie's." He tells her and she pouts. "Don't you love mummy?" She asks and he sighs. "I do baby. Very much. But some things are harder than others. But I promise. I will always be here for you. And I am so sorry for all that lost time but I promise, I will make it up to you." He whispers. They stay there quietly hugging until Ginger finally drops her head, quietly sleeping. He smiles laying her on the bed assigned to her and tucks her in softly. "God I love you. More than the world." He whispers, almost exactly how he said to Y/n moments before, with the same look in his eyes. Love.

I wipe my eyes hearing him walk out. His eyes are puffy but he shows no sign of sadness on his face. "Fred?" I whisper and he looks over smiling. "Yes?" He asks and I sigh. "Make me a promise." I tell him and he nods confused. "If I do this. You have to promise me. Do you actually love me or do you just love our children?" I ask and he laughs. "I love you all. Y/n you are the love of my life. Why are you asking this?" He asks and I finally kiss him. He perks up in surprise but he slowly melts into it. "God I love you so much." He whisper in between the kiss. Finally we break away chuckling as he smiles at me. "Want to watch our movie now? I was told there are some sexy adventures in Sleeping Beauty." I ask and he chuckles sitting down on the couch. "I also wanted to say, I might have promised a ring in the future." He suddenly says and I laugh holding up the baby monitor. "Shit I forgot we had that." He laughs and I kiss hiss jaw lightly. "Guess I caught you." I whisper and he laughs.

***

I wake up in my bed thinking last night was a far-fetched dream and smell smoke. "Fuck he is too much like his father." I whisper to myself. I run out and the twins are no where to be seen. I see Fred and he is throwing toast in the trash sadly. "Watcha doing?" I ask and he looks up sighing. "Trying to make breakfast..." He groans sitting down. I walk over and rubs his shoulders as he hums lightly. "Its Wednesday you blessing of a man." I whisper and he chuckles nodding. He turns, puckering his lips and I kiss him quickly. "Get the two arsonists awake please." I say as I grab a pan. He groans moving closer to me. "Why ruin the fun so early?" He asks, his hands sliding around my waist. He kisses my neck as I lean my head away slightly. "Mmm... As much as I would love to, the muffling spell is going to drop at any given moment and Finn is a light sleeper. The boy will tell Ginger we didn't wake them up and they will plot." I explain and he laughs at the thought.

"DADDY!" I hear Ginger yell and Finn runs out to find me. "DADDY'S HERE!" He tells me and I gasp. "He is?! Does that mean we should make french toast?!" I ask and Finn tugs my pyjama bottoms. "NOOO WE NEED TO MAKE PANCAKES!!!!" He whines and I laugh nodding. "FINN! CMONNNN" Ginger yells as she pulls Fred behind her. "COMING! WE'RE WATCHING TV WITH DADDY!" He tells me and I smile. "Go on then!" I tell him.

I finish making pancakes and we all eat together. Fred gets up and Ginger grabs him. "What baby?" He asks and she shoves her face into his leg. "You're leaving aren't you?" Finn asks and he smiles at Ginger, picking her up. "Just to the bathroom. Me and mummy thought you two would like a daddy day. I'm staying here for the whole day." He says winking at me. They all cheer and he moves over to kiss the top of my head and walking to the bathroom. "Mummy..." Ginger whispers. "Yes?" I ask in the same hushed tone. "Daddy kissed you." She tells me and I nod. "Yes he did." I whisper and she giggles happily.

***

I wake up to feel Fred moving around. "What are you doing?" I ask sleepily and he kisses my head. "Finn peed his bed, I got it though." He whispers and lays down next to me. "Does he need a bath?" I ask and he laughs. "Covered." He tells me and I smile nuzzling into his arm. "My hero." I mumble and he chuckles. I start to feel woozy and I rush out of bed. "Darling?" He yells behind me. I throw up into the toilet as I feel my body shake. He rushes in and grabs my hair into a ponytail. "Darling! Oh my god this is why you don't let me make meals." He tells me and I laugh weakly.

"I feel like now is a brilliant time to tell you. I might be pregnant." I tell him smiling. "Surprise..." I whisper doing weak jazz hands.

[toooldforfandom-liveblogs]

Gravity Falls S02E19 - Weirdmageddon 2: Escape From Reality

Last episode ended in the cruelest cliffhanger with Dipper, Wendy and Soos jumping into the bubble to rescue Mabel. I can't wait to find out what happens so let's do this!

I was thinking "this looks way too calm for Grav–" and then this happened.

I hope that goat is not eating Stan.

Also, "Day 4"? When did a day pass? Was it between Dipper meeting Wendy and Fury Road or between entering the bubble and now?

Deep religion takes

There's no way Gravity Falls has this many people. It's probably like the cheap furniture I have, styrofoam covered with the thinnest plastic laminate they can get away with. But with people.

It's weird that the world hasn't noticed this. At least the TV station should have been received in another town/state, right?

Huh.

Has this bubble always existed? That would explain why all the past (and current) weirdness seems so contained to Gravity Falls. Or was it something Ford did at some point in the past? I guess this explains why the world has no idea what's happening.

A bubble inside a bubble. I'm really curious about why Bill bubbled Mabel instead of just making her part of his throne. Even Ford got petrified, so why is Mabel so special?

Dipper "Did you miss Part I?" Pines

Soos is such a good guy. He may be choking Dipper and Wendy but I don't doubt for a second that he really believes what he is saying here. He'd self-sacrifice in a second if it meant saving his friends. He really deserved more than mostly being the butt of jokes.

Why trap Mabel in a Lotus-Eater machine? Hell, Bill had no issues giving Dipper to his friends to eat, why keep Mabel alive (and happy)?

Can't wait for the ultimate reveal that Mabel is the most powerful of the twins and needs to be contained.

Alternatively the bubble is made of Smile Dip

Aw, she still doesn't want summer to end to the point that in her ideal world is always summer.

Totoro and ducktective!

...what happened to the original Waddles anyway?

mhm

Narrator: they break it

What could it be? Something about Dipper? Something that could make Mabel remember the real world?

I see what you're doing here

Adventure Time, 2010

holy shit

Later on court, "it was self defense! I saw a gun!"

Aw poop. I was hoping it wouldn't going to go this way. But I guess it makes sense, before this Mabel was having a pretty awful day so going full on denial is pretty understandable.

...wow, I have no words.

Who doesn't?

Maybe start explaining the literal apocalypse that's going on outside? Because that attitude is exactly why Mabel had to make Dippy Fresh.

I went back to look at the throne again and I'm pretty sure at least Tambry is there (with Robbie)

Her friends not being real feels weirdly manipulative but I think it's the bubble that summoned them, not Mabel.

Yeah, whoa. That's low. Really low.

Oof.

That makes me wonder if the Mabel that Dipper found is not really Mabel. Just the Mabel that Dipper thought he'd find.

I was a bit suspicious but Wendy mentioning Dipper's "thing" makes it obvious that she's a fantasy. Is this what Dipper really wants?

That's nice.

Okay, I wasn't very enthused about this plot but this is winning me back fast.

I haven't written much because I can't decide if the court is the dumbest or the greatest thing. But showing events from before Gravity Falls is interesting.

oh no

If this is how they start, it wouldn't surprise me if Dipper ends up wanting to stay and Mabel is the one who breaks everyone out.

This is really good _but_ I wish (as it's probably obvious from what I've written) that it was Mabel who rescued/convinced Dipper somehow. Emotional intelligence was her thing and now that Dipper had to step up (last episode and now), where does that leave her? I hope next episode they at least team up again.

I can't deny that these "completed" flashbacks got to me.

something something cancel culture

It _was_ the real waddles!

I _really_ appreciate Mabel saying this. Dipper is probably still going to say no but Mabel acknowledging that Dipper _is_ sacrificing an opportunity for her is a lot better than just assuming it's all good.

Everything in this screenshot is amazing but I can't stop looking at Road Warrior Grenda. And Pacifica is alive! And why is Stan wearing the mayor's sash?

This is the last place I expected to hear about Sartre. What a great joke.

WHEN ONE GETS TRAPPED INSIDE THE PAST

DREAMS CAN TURN TO NIGHTMARES FAST

---

I want to like this episode. It was funny, interesting and the emotional climax was great. But, I'm not sure if I do. Actually, I'd say I like it but I don't love it.

There's something in the execution of the "the bubble is Mabel's dream world" plot that fell flat for me. I can't even say it's because Mabel was out of character because she wasn't, there's a direct line between her behavior here and what happened to her before.

I guess I just wanted more from Mabel rather than her getting rescued from herself.

Other than that, it was a great episode, still creating more questions than answers even though there's only one episode left. For example, who made the bubble? Has it always been there or is it something that Ford made? Or, what do the symbols mean? Why trap Mabel instead of feeding her to one of his friends? And the most important of all questions, how did Waddles get into the bubble with Mabel?

Can't wait for the next episode! It's double-length so I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to post it on Friday, next Wednesday is a surer bet, but who knows? Until next time!

Note from the future: @princezilla​ reminded me about the deal that Bill made with Mabel, which explains why he bubbled her instead of just killing her and makes a lot of my comments kinda dumb in retrospect but oh well.

PS: She-Ra and Steven Universe Future are coming soon.

[ahtohallan-calling]

a week of snow days // a fluffy kristanna fic set in my plane au verse for one shot wednesday!

The first real snow of the year is always an important occasion in the Bjorgman household.

(I recommend reading the previous fics in this verse first!)

one.

“Hey, Anna,” he says, that still-shy smile unfurling on his face even though they’re only talking over the phone and it’s been four months and he told her he loved her weeks ago and she said it right back.

“Kris! Thank goodness I caught you in time!”

“In time? Is something wrong?”

“No, no, it’s just that the weather channel says the first snow will be tomorrow instead of this weekend, and I’m about to have to go into this huge meeting, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to get to the store in time!”

He’s confused; he thought in Colorado, people knew how to drive in the snow. “I don’t think it’ll be bad enough that you won’t be able to go tomorrow.”

“No, no, that’s not the point! It’s the first real snow of the year. I have to have the supplies.”

“What supplies, skatten min? I can bring some rock salt over if--”

“No, I need hot chocolate! The kind with marshmallows. And cookie dough and pretzels and--”

“Anna, start over.”

She heaves out a sigh, and his smile grows. “My family and me, we’ve always celebrated the first big snow like it’s a holiday. We always go out and play in it together, and then come in and have hot chocolate and watch a movie or something. And it’s important to me, and-- and--”

She sounds hesitant, unusual for her; he doesn’t interrupt the silence. Finally, he hears her take a deep breath.

“And you’re important to me, too. So if you have time--”

“Of course I have time. I’ll pick up the hot chocolate and drop it off on my way home.”

“Oh-- thank you, but, um. I also meant...it would be really nice to do my first snow day stuff with you. If you want to, I mean.”

His smile is now a full-blown, ear-to-ear, sun-bright grin. “I’d love to.”

two. 

“You remembered?”

He blinks down at her. She is still curled up on her side in bed, her hair somehow all over her face and her pillow and his pillow all at once. There are shadows under her eyes because she had to meet a deadline last night, and she is wearing his oldest, most worn t-shirt.

She is so beautiful he wonders how the whole world doesn’t stop and stare.

He sits on the edge of the bed, puts his mug of hot chocolate on the nightstand and passes her hers when she sits up. “‘Course I remembered. I want to do this every first snow day for the rest of my life.”

The smile on her face is so warm it could have saved the Titanic a whole lot of trouble. And she doesn’t even know about the ring hidden in the back of his sock drawer.

three.

He pulls in to the already-icy driveway so fast for a moment she is frightened until she remembers he put the snow chains on last week. 

“Come on, my love,” Anna says, picking up her infant daughter from her nap, “let’s get you dressed.”

As if the little girl wasn’t already adorable enough with her mussed blonde curls-- the reason Kristoff keeps calling her his little duckling, even though he was the one who suggested calling her Sofie in the first place-- she gives her mother a sweet smile, the one she is already learning gets her whatever she wants.

Kristoff bursts through the door then, his cheeks red from the cold. “You didn’t take her out yet, did you?”

“Of course not,” Anna reassures him, leaning up on her toes to give him a kiss on the cheek he leans down to receive. “Besides, I’ll need your help getting that snowsuit on.”

His job is mostly to distract Sofie as Anna slides her little kicking legs into the pink, puffy snowsuit, the one they picked because “it has excellent reviews about the quality of insulation” and “the cute little bear ears on top!”

(He did agree once he saw it in person that the bear ears were, as Anna put it, “the cutest thing in the history of the world”, except for of course his daughter. “And you,” he had added, earning himself an extra kiss.)

She lets him carry Sofie outside, knowing that it pulls at him that he cannot stay at home most days like she does. By the way he looks down so solemnly at the infant, she knows there is more on his mind than just this annual tradition. 

As she watches, a single snowflake falls on the tip of Sofie’s tiny, perfect nose; for a moment, she is startled by this new sensation, but then she laughs, for the very first time, and suddenly there are tears in Anna’s eyes.

She thinks there might be some in Kristoff’s, too. “Dette er din første snø, skatten min,” he says softly. “Du vil ikke huske det, men det vil jeg alltid.”

Anna hasn’t picked up enough Norwegian yet to know exactly what he’s saying, but she gets the meaning, all the same, and she tucks her hand under his arm and leans her head against his shoulder, grateful that he will always be there to keep both of his girls warm.

four.

“Are you sure it’s alright?”

“Kris, honey, do you know why I’m so short?”

“Because you didn’t take your vitamins?”

“Because I fell so many times on my head as a baby that it squished me permanently.”

He sighs and leans down to set Sofie on top of a drift of hard-packed snow, though he still holds tight to each of her tiny hands. “That’s not true, Anna.”

“It could be. No one’s ever tested it. But anyway, I ended up fine, didn’t I?”

“Jury’s still out.”

She tries and fails not to giggle at his teasing. Sofie laughs, too, as if somehow she understands. She understands enough, at least: that her parents are happy, and that’s enough to make her happy, too.

“Anyway, honey,” Anna says, moving to stand a few feet in front of the pair of them, “this is better for her to practice than indoors. Out here, all the snow is basically padding.”

“But it’s so cold…”

“Which is why we’ll be here to pick her up and brush the snow off.”

He sighs and slowly lets go of both of the toddler’s hands. She wavers for a moment, and his hands shoot forward to catch her, but then she takes a wobbly step towards her mother.

“That’s it, Ducky!” Anna cheers, “come to Mommy!”

For the first time making this little journey, Sofie doesn’t fall. “You can tell she’s half-Norwegian,” Anna says in between the proud kisses she’s showering on her daughter’s face. “She’s a natural.”

five.

“Hi, Pappa! It's the first snow! Where are you?"

"Hello, my Sofie. And hello Mommy, too. I'm still in New York, remember?"

"But it's the snow, Pappa, it's important."

Anna bites her lip and takes the phone back out of the chubby toddler's hand before she can drop it. "I know," Kristoff says, disappointment in his voice, too. "I was hoping the snow would wait until tomorrow. I'll be home then."

"But it's here today."

She is two and not quite half, and so she does not understand things like dissertations and conferences and the rising costs of air travel.

"I know. But you can drink my cup of hot chocolate for me, okay? From the big cup."

She is, however, old enough to understand that this peace offering is a Very Big Deal.

"Okay!"

Later that night, after she has been put in her favorite pajamas and tucked in with the special blanket and has heard two stories, she remarks to her mother that she would have rather had her father than the special hot chocolate.

Anna calls Kristoff again that night when she has tucked herself in, too. She tells him what Sofie said, and his entire face lights up.

"Now it's only you I have to worry about," he teases.

"What do you mean?"

"That you might love hot chocolate more than me."

Normally she would tease him and say she does, but she wishes he had been here today, too, and so instead she just smiles and says, "You never have to worry about that, skatten min."

six.

“Pappa! Wait!”

He turns, surprised, to see Sofie trailing across the snow towards him, waddling more than usual behind him thanks to her puffy snowsuit and the already-high snowdrifts. 

“Ducky, hva gjør du?” he asks, already turning back to meet her.

“Don’t go to work!” she wails. “There’s snow!”

Before he can reach her, she slips on a slick patch and falls face first into a pile of snow. He breaks into a run, but all of a sudden a massive lump of auburn and white fur is there, using his nose to help push her back upright.

By the time Kristoff reaches her, she’s standing, using the St. Bernard’s back as support; she looks like she’s still torn on whether she should laugh or cry, and so her scoops her up as quick as he can and brushes the snow from her cheeks.

“Tell Olaf thank you,” he says, kissing her forehead to help warm it back up.

“Thank you,” she chirps, and the dog gives a happy no problem woof.

“And anyway, Sofie,” he adds, shifting her to his hip so he can get back to getting the box of Swiss Miss he accidentally left overnight from the trunk of his car, “it’s a Saturday.”

seven. 

“Oh, what’s that big one for?” Anna asks, coming out in the backyard to watch as Sofie struggles mightily to roll a ball of snow that’s almost as tall as she is.

Kristoff’s eyes sparkle with mirth as soon as she asks. Sofie completes another roll and answers cheerfully, “For your tummy.”

She lets out a burst of surprised laughter. “Is it really that big?”

“Yeah, Mommy, it’s ginormous.”

Kristoff tries to hide a snort of laughter by pretending it’s a cough as he comes over to stand with her. “To be fair,” Anna says drily, “I’m seven months pregnant. What’s your excuse?”

She nods at the other snowman Sofie had already built, one that has an even bigger base. “Who do you think that one is?”

Sofie overhears them and calls out, “That’s Pappa!” as if they needed clarification.

Now it’s Anna’s turn to try and hide a laugh. “Perhaps four-year-olds aren’t the best judge,” she says, leaning up to kiss her husband’s cheek. “But just so you know, even if you were that round I’d still think you were the handsomest man alive.”

“You flatter me too much, kjære,” he says, leaning down to give her a proper kiss when Sofie isn’t looking.

“Believe me, I know,” she says, patting the swell of her stomach. “How d’you think I ended up in this situation?”

“Mmm...I thought it had something to do with love at first sight and being married five years to my favorite person and--”

She kisses him again even though Sofie’s watching and will inevitably let out a squeal of disgust. “Well...that too, I suppose.”

“Jeg elsker deg, my Anna.”

She slips her mittened hand into his gloved one. “Love you, too.”

[looselucy]

Us & Them

April 14th It was 9am, and Chloe had been talking my ear off for the past 45 minutes, gabbing down the phone about something or nothing and absolutely anything.

“And literally, it has only been a matter of weeks since I said to Libby, we need to go to a city soon or something because we need to get laid, and she was like nah, and now I know why. She was already getting laid. Louis was laying her.” “He was.” I giggled. “Do you think he’s good in bed?” “Can’t say I’ve ever really thought about it.” “Really? I think about what everyone would be like in bed. Girls included.” She told me. “I think Louis is one of those who isn’t much special until he gets to know your body, then he’s well good.” “What do you think I’d be like?” I sniggered. “Slow and sexy.” “Awh, thanks Chloe!” “Lin goes like a rabbit for hours. Libby probably likes kinky shit. Niall is up for anything. Harry is hard but passionate. I mean, he’s a self-defence teacher and an artist. I bet that juxtaposition is an absolute treat.” Due to how spot on her description of what Harry would be like in bed was, I genuinely started pondering over just how accurate her other predictions were. I was blushing, rolling over on my bed to stare up to the ceiling. “Mm, I bet.” I bit my lip. “Whoever gets to find out is a lucky girl.” “Tell me about it.” She groaned. “Hey, what’s the plan tonight? It’s Harry’s birthday, right?” I was still surprised by how things had played out in terms of us knowing about Harry’s work and his secret coming to light. He’d been so composed and laidback about all of it, so understanding and almost humorous. He’d opened his sessions up again the following Wednesday on the 10th, followed by our weekly trip to The Tin Mouse, and even when they’d all grilled him and gotten excited, he’d been so fine about all of it! I suppose he really had expected at least one of us to have known for longer anyway; it wasn’t unfamiliar to him, having people know about his work. It wasn’t like all the stuff with his family, which was private and his own to share. His career had opened doors and broken down walls and left him exposed in ways that couldn’t be reversed, and he seemed to understand that. His work was a spectacle in ways his private life needn’t be. It was different. In a strange and unpredictable way, it actually seemed as though he felt better for us all knowing, as though a weight had been lifted. Maybe him being back in Rosebury was a big contribution to it, but over the past week or so, it felt like it was the happiest I had ever seen him. He was beginning to open up in ways I hadn’t foreseen, slowly stitching the pieces of his life together to create something whole. I was sure even a few short months earlier he wouldn’t have even thought to tell us about his birthday, but he’d been excited and planned an evening to celebrate. He was doing so unbelievably well. I was ridiculously proud of him and how wonderful he’d been about everyone knowing. He was more interested in the news about Louis and Libby than anything else. “He’s forced Gina to get the karaoke out,” I confirmed. “So it’s a night at The Royal Rose for us.” “Brilliant, what’re we singing?” “You’ll have to get me really bloody drunk to make me sing.” “Happy to do just that. Me, you and Libby could be Destiny’s Child.” “OR, the Bee Gees!” “That’s the spirit!” There was a knock on my door, and I had to make an educated guess that it would be Harry. All he’d said was to keep my day free, and I imagined it would be a day in bed before a night in the pub. It sounded perfect to me. “Okay, I gotta go! I’ll see you tonight though.” “See you to-Night Fever.” She blurted, sounding rather proud of herself. “Also, by the way, I’m very loving but feisty in the bedroom, in case you wanted to know.” “I didn’t, but thank you.” “Can you confirm if I’m right about what you’re like in bed? How deep is your love, Alfie?” “Goodbye, Chloe!” As soon as I’d hung up I leapt to my feet, scuttling over to the door, eager to see Harry again. It had been less than 12 hours since I’d last seen him, but after a night sleeping in our own beds it somehow felt like a lifetime. I’d been up early that morning to get some basics done in the shop with Louis since we weren’t opening that day, and I’d made the decision not to stay at Harry’s the night before, a decision I regretted rather quickly. I swung the door open, practically jumping with glee over the sight of him, about to grab his face and kiss the life out of him, but he didn’t give me the chance. He snaked around my side, standing behind me and putting his hands over my eyes, holding his body close to mine. “Harry,” I cried. “What’re you doing?” “Clearly, it’s a surprise.” He leaned to my ear, trying to waddle the two of us forward and lead me out the door and down the stairs. “Wait, what? It’s your birthday. Surely I should be the one surprising you.” I tripped almost instantly. “Shit, fuck, couldn’t this have waited until after we’d tackled the stairs?” “That’s not as fun. Less risky.” “That sounds so much better to me.” “Careful, there’s a step there!” I was appalled by how unfamiliar I seemed with my own home, Harry having to yank me back to him so I didn’t go tumbling down the flight of stairs leading outside. I could feel his body jittering as he held me back, the two of us already in fits of laughter at my inexcusably weak attempt to manage even the first step. He kept my eyes covered as he rested his head against the side of mine, and we were already tittering so much I didn’t think I’d ever be able to manage the rest of the stairs. “Guide me better!” I howled. “They’re fucking steps, they’re not that complicated!” “Fine, fuck you, I’m going.” I took a steady stride, gradually beginning to move downwards. “Happy Birthday, by the way.” “Thank you, boss.” “I’m scared. Should I be scared?” “It’s a good surprise, I promise.” “Still scared.” “Don’t be.” We reached the bottom of the stairs much quicker than I’d been expecting, trying to take another step down which wasn’t even there, which made me stumble forward again, the whole endeavour much messier than it should have been. We took a few steps outdoors before Harry halted, bringing us to a standstill. My stomach was in knots. “Ready?” He asked quietly. I shook my head, but that didn’t stop him from lifting his hands off my eyes. I burst into tears the second he had. Because standing right in front of me, on the gravel beside my car, was my dad, my mum, and a rather timid looking nurse stood behind them, watching us with a smile on her face. He’d gotten them back to Rosebury. After almost five long years, he’d gotten them to come home. Both of them. I slapped my hands against my mouth, gripping my eyes shut, and I just stood there in floods of tears. I didn’t have the capacity to do anything else, all I could do was weep. It was so absurd and overwhelming that I couldn’t make sense of it, the fact they were both actually there, stood right ahead of me. It had been so many years, and for so many months I’d been trying to encourage my father to come back, if only for a day or two, but the fact it was actually happening was preposterously peculiar. My dad took a few steps forward and took me into his arms, telling me it was okay, to stop being silly and stop crying, how happy he was to be back, to see me again. I was floored.

“He paid for all of it.” My dad whispered across the table, nodding towards Harry, who was stood ordering our food at the counter in PJ’s. “The nurse, our journey here. He got us a medical van, just in case anything goes wrong. He paid for all of it.” I looked over my shoulder, watching Harry chatting freely with the owner Paula and the nurse, who I’d learnt was called Helen and wanted to give us as much alone time for the day as she possibly could whilst always being around to help my mother if needs be. “How did…” I turned back to face my parents. “Why did… When did he sort this?” “He got in touch with me last week. Had it all planned out, made it as easy as it possibly could be. Kinda made it impossible to say no. Not that I wanted to but, it’s just always seemed so out of reach before.” I didn’t quite know what to say or think or even feel. I couldn’t fathom him going to all that effort on my behalf, the amount of money he would have spent, the care, the kindness. All of it. My eyes flicked to the side to gage my mother, and it must have been so long since she was last out of that home, and I totally understood why my dad had been so worried about it, but even though she was quiet and a little vacant, I actually believed it would have been doing her so much good, even if we couldn’t see it. I didn’t want to cry, but it was very likely I’d spend the majority of our day in tears. Even the fact that Harry was right there with us, that we were out in public as a unit with him included, that meant so much to me. He would have been well aware that the chances of us running into someone were high, but he didn’t seem to care. I dropped my head, struggling to keep my emotions in check. “I can’t believe he’s done all this.” I murmured. “I never asked him to do any of it, I… I just can’t believe he’d do this for me.” “That’s what real love looks like. You’ll have to get used to that.” Even hearing the word love made my stomach coil. The pace of mine and Harry’s companionship had been irregular and unpredictable, and though things had begun in October and intensified in January, love still somehow felt like a big word, a big feeling, something I somehow feared. I’d had one serious relationship in my life, one single experience of that form of love, and it had been a destructive example of it. Love had broken my confidence and shattered my trust. Love had made me doubt my own worth and shun my true emotions, the damage darting to destruct so many different aspects of my life and myself. Love had been an enemy disguised as a friend. But the bottom line was that even at his very best, Sam would have never done what Harry had done for me that day. It wasn’t in his nature. He wouldn’t have even considered it. I did not want to fear love because one person had shown me such a poor example of it. “Sam would’ve never done this for me, would he?” I voiced my thoughts. “I doubt it.” “Not that this… Not that it should be expected, because this is… But y’know what I mean.” “One day Sam will meet someone and all that stuff will come really naturally to him.” My dad said. “I just think that you two weren’t right for each other. I hope you leaving him was the wakeup call he needed, and the next person he’s with… he’ll do better. You’ve just got to be with the right person.” I nodded, hoping he was right, because I had seen a lot of good in Sam, and in ways I would always care for him. “Once you find that, it changes you.” He went on. “Once you find that, you become the best version of yourself. It’s a wonderful thing.” He moved to take hold of my mother’s hand, and thankfully she didn’t cower or pull away, she tightened her grip. She seemed at ease, which was a rare and lovely sight. I was startled back to life when Harry came and sat himself down next to me. “Paula said she’s gunna rustle up Rita’s favourite.” He got himself comfortable at my side. “I dunno what that is, but I trust her to know.” “D’ya hear that, Ree?” My dad encouraged. “You’re gunna get your favourite, meat and potato pie.” “That’s nice.” Her reply was low, but any reply at all was good. “We used to come here every Sunday.” My dad turned to tell Harry. “She’d order the same thing every week.” “With a tea.” She added, quiet, but loud enough for us all to shut the fuck up and stare at her completely dumbfounded. It was such a small thing, such an insignificant little fact, but she’d remembered. She had remembered what she used to order every single Sunday when she’d go to PJ’s with my dad. “Holy shit.” I was mystified. “That’s right!” My dad beamed. It was so strange, how she didn’t even know who I was but she could remember something so small like that, even if it was just for a few seconds, even if it was utterly trivial. I really thought being in places that were so familiar to her was helping her recall even the tiniest things, aided by that sense of acquaintance and home. It was impossible not to smile. “I’m so happy you’re both here.” I sighed, taking Harry’s hand beneath the table. “Thank you for sorting this, Harry.” “My pleasure.” He reached to shake my father’s hand across the table. “Good to see you again. How do you feel being back?” Even on the tiny walk from my place to PJ’s, he’d bumped into three people he knew, and was greeted by more love and welcomes when we got into the café. He seemed happy enough and glad to see people, and they seemed glad to see him, but I suppose it was difficult, especially with my mum being right there. As lovely as the greetings had been, they’d also been accompanied by sad looks and awkward moments, broken smiles and sympathetic words. No one meant any harm, that much was clear, but it couldn’t have been easy. “I feel okay. Strange, but good.” He answered rather shakily and yet sure at the same time. “I’ve missed it.” “There’s something special about this place, isn’t there?” Hearing Harry say that made me smile. “Very. And the people in it.” His eyes dodged to me for a second, giving a very knowing look to the two of us. “Agreed.” Harry was holding back a smile, seeming a little bashful. I made my eyes go wide, glaring, not wanting Robert Hunter to act like a proper dad and start interrogating him and scaring him off. Harry didn’t know that I’d confirmed to my dad that there was something happening between us, but I thought with how our day was going and what he’d done for me, Harry would’ve been pretty foolish to think my dad wouldn’t be aware of it. “Just look after her.” He simply said. “I will.” Harry nodded assertively. My whole body was likely beaming a certain blushed colour that I could not control, dropping my head and cooing down towards the table. Harry could say the most simple things and make me experience feelings I never had before. “Alright, well I’m gunna leave you to it.” He sighed, squeezing my hand and then letting go. “What?” My dad gawped. “I know this is a family thing, I don’t wanna intrude.” He raised to his feet. “You’re not intruding at all, it’s the complete opposite.” Robert was stern. “Sit yourself back down. This is only happening because of you, so I think you should stay.” I looked up to him, kind of expecting to see him looking like he’d actually wanted to get away, that he'd have felt a little strange and out of place if he’d stayed, which I would have totally understood. But if anything, he looked flattered. “Are you sure?” “Absolutely.” Smiling and thanking him, Harry sat himself back down, taking hold of my hand again as soon as he could. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.

We trudged through the tall grass, the setting sun making everything golden, the evening warm and blissful. It was perfectly serene, birds singing lullabies from their branches, butterflies dancing over flowers, my heart feeling far removed from everything that could ever possibly harm it. Totally peaceful. “Where’re we going?” Harry asked from behind me. “To where my dad proposed to my mum.” I turned and whispered back to him. “I think he’s hoping she’ll remember it.” We were only a short drive out of Rosebury, but from that spot it felt like there was no sign of society for miles and miles, where Mother Nature still reigned supreme, her beauty untouched and untroubled. My dad had hold of my mum’s hand, carefully leading her towards the very spot he’d asked her to marry him when they were only nineteen years old. He was so affectionate, so ridiculously in love with her even still, despite everything. I worried for him all the time, imagining his life both with and without her. There didn’t seem to be a possible outcome where he would be as happy as he deserved to be. My heart broke for him. I stopped when we reached the end of the taller grass, my dad leading my mum down the small hill in front of us to take her out into the open where he’d asked her to marry him. Harry stood by my side, the two of us giving them their space. “This is beautiful.” Harry admired. “He’s really romantic.” I liked seeing them wander off hand in hand like that, because it was almost as though for a few brief moments of my life, I could forget completely the fact that she didn’t fully know who he was or understand what was happening. Seeing them then, the years rewound before my eyes, taking me back to simpler times when their love was untested and her bookshelf was heaving with books of all colours and sizes, romance novels filling each shelf, depicting their love and a life of happiness they had once built side by side. It was the first time in years where the image of them was strong enough to shield that disease, my eyes only able to see two people in love and nothing else. I sat myself down, keeping my eyes on them every second as I tucked my knees upwards, heart and body warm. Harry sat down beside me, the two of us quietly observing them for quite some time, uninterrupted, peaceful. Even when he did eventually speak, he was gentle. “It’s like they never left.” I turned my head to look over his profile, the way he smiled looking out across the fields and hills before us. “Why did you do this for me?” I asked him. “Why wouldn’t I?” He looked back at me. “I care about you. I wanted to make you happy.” “You make me happy anyway. This is… It’s on another level, is all I’m saying.” “So are you.” He shrugged, casually creating pink blotches in my cheeks. He was treating it like the most ordinary thing, like it was the obvious thing to do and he couldn’t really understand why I was so bewildered by it. I was blushing like mad. “It’s what you deserve, and if I can give that to you, I will. And, y’know… your dad deserves this too. He needed to come back here. It was a bit of a no-brainer.” I reached to take his hand, joining our fingers together and holding his hand as tightly as I dared since he still had his bandages on to cover his cuts, which I hoped were well on their way to healing. I leaned his way, kissing his cheek briefly. “I’m beyond grateful. Thank you.” I spoke against his skin, his dimple appearing beside my lips. “You’re welcome.” “I feel really bad that it’s your birthday and it’s like… It’s like the whole day has revolved around me. I haven’t even given you your present yet.” “You got me a present?” “Of course I got you a present.” I chuckled. “You think I’m not gunna get you a present? Louis’ got you one too!” “What the fuck!” “You should not be this surprised!” “I expected a few pints, but actual presents?” He whelped before he seemed to calm, bewildered as he spoke. “Shit. It’s been a long fucking time.” He was so sweet, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe his luck. Buying for him had been much more difficult than I’d anticipated. He was such a diverse, illusive being that every typical option I’d thought of fell completely flat. Eventually, I’d settled on an acoustic guitar, one I’d seen months earlier than had made me think of him for reasons I didn’t understand. He was clearly a creative person with multiple talents, and though I knew he already owned a guitar, he’d spoken to me about how it was a hobby he’d regretfully overlooked for quite some time. Since he was leaving one of his passions behind, I thought he might like to remind himself of something else he loved doing, something that wasn’t as harmful, that didn’t nourish the demons within him; they needed starving of the misery he had fed them for too long. “I’m sure hearing everyone on karaoke will be enough of a gift in itself.” I leered. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.” I had been excited about our day anyway, but with what he’d planned he’d made a good day near perfect. I felt like I wanted to thank him forever. “Seriously, I’m beyond grateful for today, Harry. Thank you.” “Again, you’re welcome.” He chuckled. “You don’t have to keep saying it.” ”Sorry if you feel like you’ve kinda wasted your day.” After spending the late morning and early afternoon in PJ’s, we had spent the rest of our day slowly walking her around town, taking my mum to all her favourite spots and even visiting the house where we used to live as a family. It definitely wasn’t the most riveting of days, as much as I’d loved it. “I don’t, at all. It’s been really nice. Better than how I’ve spent my birthday for the last few years anyway.” I took a moment, shifting uncomfortably on my spot as I thought about approaching the topic I’d been contemplating and stressing over for weeks. I wanted to share it with him, not in the hope of reaching a definite outcome, but me and Harry were doing so well with being open and honest with what we were feeling and thinking, I felt I owed it to us more than anything. I wanted to try and gage how he was feeling about the topic of people knowing about the two of us without diving right into; I wanted to simply test the waters and gather whether he thought we would sink or swim. It was a difficult subject to breach because he’d almost been forced to be much more open that he was accustom to in recent weeks and months, and though that had been a good thing in the grand scheme of things, I understood it must have been overwhelming for him. I didn’t want to pile everything on at once and taint the incredible process he had made. “Were... Were you nervous about bumping into someone today?” I asked shyly. “Mm.” He nodded, smiling as he turned his head to face me. “Were you?” “Yeah.” I admitted. “Kinda.” “Thankfully we got through the day without any of that lot witnessing.” He sniggered. “We’d have never heard the bloody end of it.” “So you’re… You’re not ready for people to know then? About us?” He whipped his head to look at me, likely picking up on the tone of my voice and the suggestion within it. He took a few seconds, the very smallest smile on his lips as he looked over my face, sighing deliberately. I was impressed by the fact he hadn’t run, that he was still sat there with me seeming to actually fully contemplate what I was saying rather than getting defensive and immediately shunning it. Somehow, that was good enough for me. Every day, I could see us progressing, and that was enough. “Sorry.” He said, knowing I’d already figured out his answer. “S’okay. I get it. I just wanted to know where you’re at, that’s all.” “I’m not quite there yet.” I nodded, completely understanding of why he felt that way. Maybe we weren’t ready. Maybe there was already more than enough going on in our lives and between the two of us that we didn’t need anything else from the outside burrowing its way inwards. The thought of everyone knowing was intimidating, I could admit that. I suppose I’d just gotten carried away with how exciting I found it too. I was happy to go at his pace, as long as I knew we were moving forward. I shuffled myself a little closer to him, Harry letting go of my hand so he could wrap his arm around me, tuck me into his side carefully, kiss at the top of my head. I could tell it was his way of comforting me, letting me know that it wasn’t to do with me but more to do with him and how he felt. I couldn’t have asked for much more than that. I looked ahead, seeing my mum and dad picking flowers together, crouched down over a certain patch as he plucked some from their place and handed them over to her. I wiped away my tears quickly. “I dunno what I expected when I moved here,” As Harry spoke, his voice seemed to intertwine with the nature around him, his chords a hidden vein that could bury beneath the soil and create new life. “But it definitely wasn’t this.” I lay my head on his shoulder, not even needing to question him or wonder whether that was a good thing or not, because I knew it was. “I’m so glad you’re here.” I whispered. “I kinda hate thinking about my life without you now. It doesn’t seem right.” Within a second of me saying that, he’d twisted his head to thrust his lips together with mine, breathing me in, a cold wind playing around us and through our hair as he grabbed hold of my face, tongue teasing mine. He was intense, groaning as his mouth moved, beautifully passionate. I felt weak beneath his touch. He was captivating, in everything he said and everything he did, every touch strong enough in its tenderness to weaken me indefinitely. How well I knew his touch and how versed he was with mine made every kiss categorically remarkable, almost intimidatingly so. But that kiss was something beyond anything we’d shared before. I was breathless by the time he stopped kissing me, his lips still close enough to brush my own ever so slightly, fingertips pushing against my jaw to keep me close. I opened my eyes, saw that he was already looking deep into mine, wetting his lips. I felt like I wasn’t breathing. “ALFIE!” I heard my dad call for me from across the field, which may have been the only thing that could make me tear my eyes from Harry’s. “I think we need to get her back. She’s getting upset, she’s confused.” I nodded, my stomach still sinking and my body still motionless, but Harry jumped to his feet immediately, rushing over to lend a helping hand. I was frozen.

“HOLD THE LINE!” Lin was yelling rather than singing. “LOVE ISN’T ALWAYS ON TIME!” It was painful, literally painful. I was loving every second and it was funny as hell, but listening to him squawking like that was genuinely doing bad things to my delicate little ears. The remaining five of us were all leaning our backs against the bar, cringing. “Oh god, it’s even worse than usual.” Louis snorted. “The fact he has no shame is so attractive.” Niall was biting his lip, already one too many drinks down. Chloe was already chatting to the bloke who was in charge of the karaoke machine for the evening, having a deep discussion about which Bee Gees song we should try to take on after realising Stayin’ Alive probably wasn’t the easiest one to tackle, but likely the funniest. Libby and I were trying to down our drinks in order to be drunk enough to actually get up and sing, but it didn’t seem to be working. Chloe had zero qualms about it. “Are you gunna take on Islands in the Stream again?” I asked Harry, nudging his hip with mine. “I suggested I Got You Babe as a joke, and Niall’s already requested it.” “You should be aware that there are no jokes when it comes to Niall and karaoke, Harry.” “That’s really a lesson I need to learn.” He sniggered. Thankfully, we’d managed to calm my mother down earlier before things had gotten completely out of hand. We’d walked her back out of the field and taken her straight over to the van, though thankfully she hadn’t needed any medical assistance, she’s merely needed to calm down and realign her mind once more, as much as she could. They’d left not long afterwards, the farewell drawn out and bittersweet, but I knew it would have made a world of difference when it came to my dad and his attitude towards spending time in Rosebury. We’d gotten through the day with barely a single issue and I could tell that something had switched in his mind. After a brief trip home with Harry by my side, gifting him his guitar and taking him to bed, our evening in the pub had snuck up on us rather quickly and was going exactly as expected. If only or a while. Just as Lin was taking his bow, the song finally coming to a triumphant end, the door swung open and Sam and Tom welcomed themselves into The Royal Rose. Sam had been rather good at hiding himself away since the night where Harry had knocked him to the ground with one foul punch over three months earlier, meaning that most of the group hadn’t seen him since finding out exactly why it was that Harry had gone after him the way he had. I shuffled uncomfortably on my spot as they both approached, looking far too smug for my liking. “M’going outside.” Harry grunted, rolling his shoulders and pushing away from the bar, ready to take himself away from the situation. “Harry, it’s your birthday, you don’t have to-” “Fancy seeing you lot here.” Sam’s voice was as smarmy as ever. “Don’t leave on my behalf, mate.” “I’m not your mate.” Harry stopped and answered, back rigid, tone vapid. Sam was just that bit shorter than Harry, positioning himself right in front of him and looking up with a smug smile on his face. I could see Harry clenching his fists, doing what he could to contain his rage. Lin, however, wasn’t feeling quite as forgiving. “OI!” He yelled, rushing to us from the front of the room. “Sam, get the fuck out.” “I just want a pint, I didn’t even know you lot were here. You don’t own the fucking pub, Lincoln.” Lin seemed unfazed, getting right up in Sam’s face, snarling as he spoke. “But you know I say one word to Gina about what you did to Alfie and you’re barred for life, so I’d take the highroad and leave of your own accord before I make that happen.” “Scary.” He sniggered sarcastically. “Oh fuck this.” Niall tut. “Harry, shut him up and knock him out again, would ya?” I felt like the reason Sam was so defensive and vulgar was no longer anything to do with me and more in an attempt to feel better about himself, try to prove how unfazed he was about the fight he and Harry had. He had no clue that he continued to make himself look worse and worse with every interaction they shared. “Sam, drop it.” Chloe piped up rather shyly. “It’s Harry’s birthday, we’re just trying to have a nice night, can’t you leave it? Go to a different pub.” “It’s embarrassing.” Lin sounded just as rude as Sam had, it was brilliant. “Look, I said I’m sorry,” He fought. “I’ve spoken with Alfie, it’s nowt to do with any of you. I’m not here for trouble, I’m here to have a drink, so if you could all move out of my fucking way and let me get to the bar.” “Go somewhere else.” Harry demanded. “Why should I?” “Sam, fuck off.” Niall groaned, tired of it. He seemed to ignore everyone, looking back up to Harry and it was clear he wanted to make him snap. He wanted a rise out of him. I slyly took Harry’s hand, trying to pull him back, closer to me. Grinning, Sam quickly dropped his eyes to look at me. “We’re alright aren’t we, Alfie?” He asked. “Don’t even bother speaking to her.” Harry stepped so he was right in front me, blocking Sam from me in any way he could. He was doing so well. He could have lost his head as soon as Sam walked through the door, but he hadn’t. He’d stayed as calm as he could, which I appreciated, but then I’d catch another glimpse of the look on Sam’s face and I’d want to punch him myself. Sam took a step closer, Harry not moving an inch. “I dunno whose fucking hero you’re trying to be, but you’re not hers.” Sam snarled, nodding his head towards me. “You might as well stop trying to be.” “I’m not trying anything.” Harry snarled. “Looks like you are to me.” “Why? Because I wanna protect her from you?” “Like you’re any better. I can see right through you-” “Don’t push me.” Harry shook his head. “Say another fucking word.” It wasn’t the first time Sam had suggested that he could see Harry’s feelings for me, and though it didn’t help that every interaction they’d had had been hostile and revolved around me, it seemed that maybe he could see through him in some ways. But he was claiming to see something else in him too, a violence and an aggression, something that had affected Harry’s life and was the source of too many painful memories. And even though he had worked so hard to move on and find alternative ways to deal with his emotions, his rage and his sorrow in particular, I knew what Sam was saying would be bothering him, evoking emotions and times that Harry wanted to keep in the past. “Sam, you’ve got ten fucking seconds.” Lin finalised. “Fine, I’m going, chill out.” He smirked. “Enjoy your nights. Careful around him, Alfie.” Lin managed to stand in the way before I’d even noticed that Harry had lost his patience, trying to jump at Sam and Tom and the two of them sauntered out of the pub, sniggering at him as they went. I hated that they’d managed to make him snap at the very last second, how Lin was once again having to hold him back. “Don’t, mate, he’s not worth it!” Lin called. “He’s trying to get to you.” I still had hold of Harry’s hand. “Ignore him.” He glared at Sam until well after he’d left, nostrils flaring as he kept his eyes on the door, somewhere between wanting to calm down and wanting to follow him outside. His chest was rising and falling, every inch of him tense. “I need air.” He huffed, pulling away from me and heading to the back door. “No, Harry-” I tried. “I’m going out back. Just five minutes, I need to clear my head.” We all watched him go, rolling his shoulders and darting down the hallway where he’d kissed me during the first minute of the year to give himself the space he desired. Sam was trying to get in his head and it was working. He was saying all the right things and really riling him up, and he didn’t need to feel that way. I could see that Harry often saw the worst of himself, saw the negatives and found a way to blame himself for things that were out of his control, for habits and characteristics he had developed over the years. The things Sam had been saying had gotten to him so much because Harry managed to link them to things he’d done, ways he’d felt, behaviours he had tried to change, disregarding the ways he had successfully bettered himself. But I saw the best in Harry. I knew he had changed. I knew he had a good heart. “I think there’s a reason he runs those classes, y’know.” Chloe sighed once he’d slammed the door shut. “I think someone did something to someone he loves, that’s why he gets so… wound up.” “Fuck Sam.” Lin groaned, rubbing the top of my arm encouragingly. “Let’s ignore that. Who wants a drink? I’m not having him ruin our night.” Niall scuttled around to my side as everyone tried to snap out of the moment and return to normal. He leaned closer to me, whispered something in my ear that made my stomach drop. “I think Harry likes you, Alf.” “What?” “C’mon. You see how he gets about you?” “He’s just like that.” I lied as convincingly as I could. “He likes you. I know I’m right. I called Louis and Libby years ago.” “This time, you’re wrong.” “Nice opinion, but I am in fact right, and my advice to you would be to hop right on that dick as soon as possible.” I was glad he’d said something funny so I could laugh it off, shake my head and end the conversation there. But he had this knowing little look on his face, clearly very pleased with himself and exceptionally confident in his prediction, with good reason. As he swaggered away from me, I rolled my eyes before they landed right on the door Harry had just walked out of, my mood dropping quickly. As well as the fact I knew Harry wanted to be on his own, I figured Niall’s speculation was a good reason not to follow him outdoors to see how he was feeling, attempt to cheer him up. He wanted time alone, and I needed to give it to him no matter how agonising the wait might be. It all stemmed down to what had happened with every member of his family; his father’s suicide, the fight with his brother, how his mother had kicked him out and he’d stopped all contact with her for too long. Through every heartbreak and every mistake, Harry had found some blame within himself, misplaced or not. In the following years, he had done all he could to make his peace and be a better person, right his wrongs, but every now and then those detrimental doubts would return to haunt him. Sam being the one to say all that and even comparing the two of them, implying that I needed to worry about Harry, that was what had made him lose himself that way. After so long, I knew what his thought process would be, how he was thinking. I knew I didn’t have anything to fear, and I needed to make sure Harry knew exactly how I felt. Another couple of minutes passed by before the conversation veered back to Harry. “Go check on him.” Niall said, nodding towards the door. “I dunno…” I groaned, trying to seem like I wasn’t desperate to go and see him, even though I definitely was. “Do it. And if he tells you to fuck off, at least then you know. Better that than him hoping someone goes to see if he’s okay and no one does.” “Then you go.” I kept up the act in order to steer his suspicions away. “I’m not the one in the middle of all this.” He shrugged, and I had to accept that at least. Sighing and faking unease, I scuttled in Harry’s direction, soon cautiously opening the door and poking my head around the corner to see that he was already looking right at me like he’d been waiting for me to show up, sat on one of the splintered tables they had outside, feet resting on the bench attached to it, hands in prayer against his lips. “M’sorry.” He spoke instantly. “I dunno why I get like that.” I stepped outside, the door closing slowly behind me as I walked over to him. “You don’t have to be sorry.” I told him, nonchalant. “You get like that because he’s a prick.” I saw his smile as I stopped right in front of him, glad to see him looking so calm and composed, to see his body almost relax with every step closer I’d taken. “You handled it well.” I nodded. “Don’t let him get to you. He doesn’t know you, Harry. He’ll say anything to feel better about himself, it’s his own issue, not yours.” Although he didn’t look quite convinced, he did look as though he was happy to hear it, happy that I was there saying what I was so confidently. I wanted to lean in and kiss him, but I didn’t quite trust that Niall wasn’t behind me spying on the two of us. Harry tilted his head a little, narrowed his eyes. “You know me well, don’t you? You know how my head works.” “I like to think so.” I looked up and shrugged, smiling modestly. “It’s nice. I like it.” He lowered his hands to take hold of me, grasping his fingers around my own, his lips creating the most perfect smile. And I think that was one of the main things that managed to make him feel better that night, that maybe made him feel better in general; the thought that I knew him so well, that I knew things about him that most people didn’t, that I knew of both his good and supposedly bad qualities, and I was there holding his hand regardless, accepting him and being with him and supporting him. It was another reminder among many that nothing really mattered other than me and him, and as long as we knew how we felt, any other opinion or doubt didn’t matter. All that mattered was us.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: The Elephant in the Room ch.4 (baon)

Summary: Jeff has started working at the Embassy. He’s got a new job, a new car, and a new place to live. Now if only the rest of his life could fall into order, that’d be great. Any time now…any time at all…

Tags: Spicyhoney, Kustard, Established Relationships, Prejudice Against Monsters, Angst,  Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Past Suicidal Thoughts,  Mental Health Issues, Friendship

Notes:  Jeff is headed home after his chat with Red, and there is so much that he doesn’t understand. But he’s starting to see why no one goes looking for Red, (whose other name is chaos). 

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

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By the time Jeff left the Embassy, most of the rush hour traffic had rushed on home, so it was a fairly easy drive to New New Home. Even the traffic lights seemed to be on his side, winking to green before he even tapped the brake. Everything was going his way, so it was a damn shame that his inner turmoil was really starting to rev up in speed.

Somehow now that his professional and personal life were getting it together, his love life was the thing falling apart and it didn’t make any damn sense. It wasn’t anything he could put a finger on, even. After a year of trying to figure out his place in, well, everywhere, it felt like things were on a good track. Not that he’d enjoyed getting stabbed to get there, but hell with it, if the gift horse was a little rough with the delivery, Jeff wasn’t going to argue with the outcome.

And now, he and Antwan were seeing each other more than ever, though that might be because of proximity more than anything. Antwan came over nearly every day after work, much to Blue’s rapturous delight. He’d stay for dinner and they’d all chat about their day, what was happening at the Embassy, new policies they were working on, hell, even taking a side track into what movies they wanted to see. It was like…like a family dinner, only one Jeff enjoyed, not like when he was a kid where they all sat silently at the large, mahogany table that his parents got years ago as a wedding gift, trying to eat as quickly as possible so he could escape. In the evening, they all might watch some television, Antwan working on his laptop if there was a big case coming up, or sometimes, he’d put his arms around Jeff and simply hold him, big and warm and right there. On those nights, Jeff sometimes secretly closed his eyes, the better to feel him with, my dear. Netflix would always be there, he needed to get his snuggle fix when he could. Antwan would either stay the night, since Jeff finally had a bed that could fit two fully grown humans and not barely most of one, or they’d drive over to sleep at Antwan’s place. Where they slept seemed to depend mostly on whether they were having sex or not, and maybe they’d started this with dinner and blowjobs, but Antwan wasn’t fussing about not getting laid every night. On the nights they stayed in Jeff’s bed, they curled up together and slept, the blankets pulled up around them in a comfy, secret world that Jeff wanted to stay in as long as he could.

Or, well, at least for the night. Because waking up in Antwan’s arms, with the smell of coffee wafting up the stairs? Yeah, Jeff was good with that. The first few days or so after he’d gotten out of the hospital, Jeff had been really worried; Antwan hadn’t seemed himself, but considering how fucked up that whole situation had been from the gate to the front door, maybe he should be happy Antwan had only seemed as odd as he had. Whatever his problem was, he seemed to have gotten past it and the last few weeks seemed like a little patch of heaven So, what the hell just happened in his office?

Jeff always figured Antwan and Red were friends of some sort; every Wednesday the two of them went out to the bar together, but that was definitely not a friendly bar-mate vibe he got today.

Not with Red sitting behind his desk, dressed like he might be called in to play the lead in West Side story at any moment and Antwan glaring at him like he was on the rival gang’s side.

It’d hurt a little when Antwan sort of dismissed him out the door, but that was easy enough to let go. The way he’d refused to take his eyes off Red made Jeff think a little of Edge, the way he looked around them now when they were all out in public.

Gone were the easy days of leaving Chinese restaurants without a care; now when they went down sidewalks, Edge tended to act like he was in threat assessment mode, and that was exactly how Antwan looked at Red. Stretch might be confident enough to ignore it, snatching up Edge’s hand to hold or pestering him with puns, but Jeff wasn’t quite so certain. Especially since Red wasn’t some random Human with a knife; he was a guy who showed up Thanksgiving dinner and movie nights, who Antwan shared drinks with almost week..

Better to let the two of them deal with their problems on their own. He hoped.

Jeff pulled into the driveway next to Blue’s Volkswagen, and he’d barely turned off the car when his phone buzzed with a text alert. The number came up as unknown, but even if his phone didn’t recognize the sender, Jeff did. hey, handy andy. think you can meet with me tomorrow, talk a little bit more about your pal steve Interesting. As anxiety-inducing as Red was, Jeff got a little thrill to think he might be able to actually help. Remembering that day last year on the bus, Stretch’s fear as that guy screamed at him. Thinking of Edge’s wary gaze while they were in Ebott. If he could help keep any Monster from feeling the same, even one, Jeff was all for it. He walked up the sidewalk to the door, past the flowerbeds on either side. Blue’s decorations were for a more subtle autumn, a little like he imagined someone’s grandma might have. Not exactly the same as the Halloween displays Stretch put up, weird to think those two were brothers. Jeff sure didn’t mind walking into a house that smelled like apple pie and cinnamon rather than his old place that always smelled a little like wet feet.

With the open floor plan, Jeff could see the dining room from the doorway and Blue was already laying out plates and silverware. “There you are,” Blue scolded before he even took off his shoes. “I was just about to text you.” It made Jeff have to hold back a smile. Having someone worrying about him wasn’t exactly something he was familiar with, not for a long time. He thought maybe he wouldn’t mind getting used to it. Blue was setting the table for three because Antwan almost always came over for dinner. Sometimes straight from work even if he wasn’t quite finished, and he’d have to leave the table to answer his phone, which made Blue tut and shake his head. He kept it to disapproving glances for Antwan, but Jeff’s gotten a couple of earfuls from Blue about how Antwan and Edge both worked too long and too hard, and needed to spend more time with family. Not that Antwan had any family close by, but Jeff figured the sentiment was nice. “Sorry, I should’ve called,” Jeff said contritely. Blue flapped a hand at him, already moving on. One thing about Blue that he’d learned quickly was that he didn’t hold a grudge. “No need to apologize! Dinner’s almost ready.” Which was certain to be delicious, based on every other meal he’d had since moving in.

If asked, Jeff wouldn’t be able to tell which of the skeleton family was a better cook. Partly because he valued his life; there an odd sort of tension between Blue and Edge that Jeff couldn’t help noticing, and adding another rivalry would probably be bad for the world. But also because frankly, their food was equally delicious. It was only different. Blue made homier meals that made Jeff think of small ma and pa diners, while Edge made an eclectic variety that wouldn’t be out of place at some hipster hole in the wall. Nobody was asking for his opinion yet and Jeff wasn’t about to offer. He wanted to keep enjoying the spoils of their labors, thanks, even if he would have to start getting up for morning runs. A knock at the door made them look up and the door opened before either of them could answer it. To Jeff’s surprise, it wasn’t Antwan but Stretch, offering them a lopsided grin and a wave. “Papy!” Blue moved in a blur that matched his namesake and Stretch was already kneeling down, pulling his brother into a tight embrace. “hey, bro,” Stretch gave him a clacking kiss on top of his skull, and Jeff had to look away, faint tears prickling. He’d always gotten the feeling that Stretch and Blue butted heads a lot, with a laundry list of issues between them. None of that seemed to affect how much they cared about each other and big hugs were the norm. Less so was Stretch standing with his brother balanced on one arm, waddling over to rope Jeff into a three-way hug. “heya, andy, how’s tricks?” “I haven’t come up with any new ones since I saw you this morning,” Jeff said, with an attempt at dryness. He didn’t really succeed, not with Blue snuggling in on one side and Stretch on the other, but eh, he wasn’t about to manage Edge’s Sahara-levels anyway. The kitchen timer going off put a quick end to it and Blue squirmed down, dashing off to the kitchen. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?” Jeff asked curiously. Stretch had come over a couple times for dinner after Jeff moved in, but usually on Wednesday when Edge was gone for the evening. “not sure,” Stretch admitted. “red sent me a text, told me i should come down and watch the show, and i haven’t done anything phenomenally stupid lately, so i figured i was due.” “Listening to Red is phenomenally stupid?” Stretch shrugged, “it’s bad for life expectancy, for sure.” “Papy, don’t you dare use that in the house,” Blue said the moment the kitchen door opened. The bony hand that was stealthy creeping towards Stretch’s hoodie pocket froze and slid guiltily away, “sorry, bro. habit.” “I don’t see how Edge allows you to vape in the house, anyway, I—“ Blue visibly caught himself and cleared his throat, “but of course, it’s his house. Are you staying for dinner?” “wouldn’t have come over at dinnertime if i wasn’t,” Stretch said easily. He straddled one of the dining room chairs, ignoring his brother’s fussing about sitting properly, honestly, Papy! Jeff only watched, bemused. He wasn’t sure what show Red wanted Stretch to watch, but this one never failed to amuse. Any time Blue said anything remotely like a slight against Edge, Stretch’s version of a punishment was being a passive-aggressive annoyance. It made him wonder if Blue actually knew exactly what Stretch was doing and simply accepted it as his due. An unspoken language shared between brothers. His phone buzzing again made Jeff frown and he looked down. It was an unknown number again. can you meet me in the cafeteria at noon? He didn’t think that would be a problem and texted back a quick affirmative. Another brisk knock at the door and it was a wonder that he hadn’t known immediately that it wasn’t Antwan the first time. Stretch’s knock was lazily rhythmic and Antwan’s a firm rap that announced his presence better than a fanfare. Not that Jeff minded; he kinda liked the forewarning, the better to appreciate Antwan when he came in. He usually came in his business suit, and yeah, that was pretty mouthwatering in a Risky Business sort of way. Better to Jeff’s way of thinking was days like today, when he stopped to change into casual clothes before coming over. Jeans and a soft pullover, and Jeff wanted to cling to him the same way that denim did. He wanted to snuggled into that pullover, breathe in his cologne and the familiar scent of his laundry detergent. He settled for a smile, widening as Antwan immediately strode over to give him a kiss. Um, okay, more like a kiss, with more enthusiasm and a hell of a lot more tongue than he usually gave for a simple hello. Not that Jeff was about to turn it down, he clung like Antwan was a life raft and he was drowning, heedless of their audience. Blue only cleared his throat and Stretch finally called, “the food is getting cold, romeo!” That wasn’t enough to stop him and Jeff knew it was rude, but he wasn’t much inclined to pull away either. Not from Antwan’s mouth, not from Antwan at all, he could stay here all night and to hell with dinner. His phone buzzing did what all the impatient huffs behind them didn’t. Antwan finally pulled away with a last, soft kiss, whispering to Jeff, “Is that important?” “It’s probably just Red again,” he whispered back. And, okay, maybe he’d said it deliberately, a test of sorts, but he couldn’t tell if Antwan’s expression was passing or failing from the way he scowled irritably. “What the hell does he want?” “Security stuff,” Jeff shrugged. Some of Stretch’s pettiness might be rubbing off on him because he left it at that, glancing at the text. scratch that, why don’t we go out to lunch. less chance of being overheard Sure, Jeff texted back. He gave Antwan’s sulky mouth a last peck and went into the dining room. The table was laden with a large casserole dish with rich gravy still bubbling, a basket filled with fluffy biscuits and a variety of vegetable side dishes. Stretch was already filling his plate, moaning his delight at the biscuits while Blue sat squirming with obvious happiness. In Jeff’s experience, all the skeletons liked to feed people, the ones who cooked most of all, and Jeff was more than happy to do his part for them. Conversation was put on hold in exchange for eating and for long moments there was only forks scraping plates and hums of appreciation. It wasn’t until they were on seconds that Blue spoke up to ask, “So, Jeff, what was it you needed to see Red about today that was so important?” “Um,” Jeff kept his gaze on his plate, because if he looked at Stretch, there was no doubt his friend would guess immediately. He couldn’t be sure that Stretch wouldn’t appreciate him meddling, he could be really moody about anyone being overprotective. If he was going to tell him, Jeff preferred it to be the only two of them rather than having Blue and Antwan laser-gazing him down. His phone buzzing saved him from answering. He started to reach for it and hesitated; he didn’t really want to be quite as passive aggressive as Stretch. “Oh, go ahead,” Blue sighed. “Antwan lives on his phone whether or not we’re at the table, anyway.” Normally, that would get a smart remark, maybe a little pointed sarcasm that making sure people weren’t stuck in jail was more important than dessert, but Antwan only watched mutely as Jeff checked the message. italian? mexican? I like Thai better, Jeff sent back and set his phone aside. “well?” Stretch asked, lazily amused. “what did red want this time?” “What makes you think it was Red?” Jeff hedged. “oh, no, don’t even try, you do not want to play this game with me, i’m way better than you are,” Stretch leaned back in his chair, grinning. “Try what?” Jeff said, purely innocent. “what did the little gremlin waaaaant,” Stretch sang out. “what did he want, what did he want, what did he want—“ “Papy, Jeff doesn’t need to tell us his personal business,” Blue said primly. As if his starry eye lights weren’t blown wide with curiosity, the traitor. “maybe jeff doesn’t, but andy is dying to say. c’mon, spill.” “He wanted to know if I liked Mexican or Italian,” Jeff admitted. “pfft, whatever,” Stretch sniffed, a pretty remarkable feat without a nose, “a true friend would know you’re not keen on either. too much from the tomato branch of the nightshade family.” “I can’t really say I like eating from any other branch related to nightshade, either.”

“You love mashed potatoes,” Blue pointed out. “give eggplant a try,” Stretch added, “edge makes a great—“ “Why is Red inviting you out for lunch,” Antwan burst out. That irritation from earlier seemed like a minor glitch in the Matrix compared to now. Visibly flustered, nothing of the cool, competent lawyer showing. “Security reasons.” Jeff said again. He didn’t want to make Antwan mad, but, damn if something about this wasn’t a little thrilling. Dangerously so, Jeff wasn’t great at playing with fire, he might be getting burned if he kept it up. But for now, Antwan was glaring at him and Jeff only looked back serenely. He could go to lunch with anyone he wanted, thank you, even so-called gremlins. “lunch. in-ter-esting,” Stretch drawled. He slanted a sly glance at Antwan. “didn’t red invite you? you guys should be a package deal, right?” Okay, that made Jeff wince, a little too pointed. But Antwan stepped up to the plate and swung, saying, “Is that how it’s supposed to be? Because you haven’t attended many of the lunches Edge and I have.” Stretch’s grin sharpened; looked like Antwan hit a home run. “touché. you’re probably right, anyway. i mean, you never come hang out when me and andy grab some nosh.” “Yeah, because I trust you,” Antwan said shortly. “Do you trust me?” Quietly. Because this was funny, but. Yeah. Jeff really needed to know. Something hot twisting in his chest slowly unraveled as Antwan gave him a stricken look. “Of course I do, it’s—“ A knock at the door interrupted him and Jeff needed to fight the urge to shout, ‘go away!’. This was an answer he damn well needed and he didn’t care anymore that Blue and Stretch were watching avidly. Before he could stumble over into rude, the door opened and Edge stepped in. His gaze lit on Stretch and without preamble he announced. “We’re leaving.” A chorus of protests rose, loudly from Blue and Stretch, weakly from Jeff, and not a single word from Antwan, who was looking down at his plate, his fingers pressed so hard against the table that the nail beds were blanched. Edge was unmoved, only crossed his arms over his chest. “Now, please.” “excuse me? i just got here!” Stretch grumbled. Blue looked like he’d bitten into a lemon, surely plenty of words locked behind his teeth that Jeff would hear later about Edge being too controlling, while in another minute he’d complain that Edge let Papy get away with too much. “And you’re just going,” Edge said evenly. “Neither of us are going to be party to whatever my brother is doing.” “but-” whatever Edge silently communicated made Stretch trail off. He sighed out, “yeah, okay, i’m out. sorry, guys.” “For what?” Jeff asked, bewildered. This whole thing was confusing, but he wasn’t really sorry to lose half the audience. Stretch only shrugged. “beats me, but i bet we’ll figure it out soon.” Stretch snagged his coat and slid it on. Then he stood still, smiling crookedly while Edge fussed over him, making sure he had the hood up against the evening chill. A last wave and he was out the door, Edge at his heels and the last glance Edge gave Antwan was so incongruous on his angular face at first Jeff didn’t recognize it for what it was. Helpless apology and whether it was for Stretch, Red, or a combination of the two was anyone’s guess. “Honestly, what’s gotten into everyone!” Blue huffed out as he started gathering up plates. “Going to lunch with Red is perfectly fine, he and I go out sometimes! He’s a bit uncouth, certainly, but-“ The chime of a text sounded, but for once, it wasn’t Jeff’s. Blue broke off with surprise, hopping down to his feet and going to where his phone was set on an end table. “Maybe Papy forgot something—hm. That’s odd.” “What’s odd?” Blue frowned at the little screen. “Antwan, Red is asking me to tell you that his offer is still open?” Everything simultaneously made more and less sense. Obviously, Antwan and Red were having it out about something, and whatever offer Red had made didn’t seem to be for anything as simple as lunch.

Antwan stood abruptly with a rattle of plates and silverware. “Excuse me for a moment,” Antwan said stiffly, and he walked straight out the front door, shutting it firmly behind him. “Goodness,” Blue said. His round face was drawn up with worry. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.” “I’m sure it’s fine,” Jeff said slowly. He really wasn’t. “Let’s clear off the table.” By the time they were done and the leftovers neatly labeled and put away, Antwan still hadn’t come back in. Jeff wasn’t sure which way on the path to head, wait for him or not? But the tight knot of worry in his chest was giving him a lead. “I’m going to check on him.” “Yes, all right. Jeff?” Blue gave him a gentle smile. “I’m sure everything is all right.” He really wished he had Blue’s certainty. Antwan hadn’t gone far. It wasn’t quite dark yet, the sun at the crest of the horizon, but it was chilly. Antwan wasn’t wearing a coat, but he didn’t seem to notice the cold. He was sitting on the porch, smoking, the cigarette burned down almost to the butt. He flicked a glance Jeff’s way as he stepped out, but only took another wordless drag. Not inviting but not asking him to leave, so Jeff would choose his own adventure.

He stepped out, shutting the door behind him. “Stretch just quit so you’re taking it up?” Jeff teased, uncertainly. “He’s not quitting,” Antwan scoffed. “He didn’t quit the ten other times he tried. And I’m not taking it up. Quit a few years ago, but sometimes the need hits.” He took a last puff and then pinched it out. “Come here?” With one hand, he guided Jeff down to the lower step to sit between his feet, then draped his arms over Jeff’s shoulders, pulling him in before he could even start shivering. Antwan was big enough to practically wear like a blanket and Jeff snuggled in, basking in his warmth. Right here, he could be happy right here for just about forever. Except he didn’t think Antwan was quite as content, and Jeff hated to rock the boat. He’d been avoiding it from the beginning, clinging to the temporary.

But if Antwan wasn’t happy, maybe it was time to risk falling overboard. He had a home here now, friends, family. Jeff wouldn’t be alone. But, god, it was going to hurt to lose him. "What's wrong?" Jeff asked, softly. He felt Antwan inhale, long and deep, exhaled and Jeff could smell cigarettes and spicy, familiar cologne. "Edge told me once he almost lost out on everything by being an asshole,” Antwan whispered it to him, raw and low. "Please, don't let me make the mistake that he missed. Please stay with me." That…wasn’t like anything Jeff was braced to hear, and the pain in Antwan’s voice echoed in his own chest. He tried to pull away, to twist around and look at Antwan, but he refused to let go, holding tight until Jeff subsided. He could only sit on the cold step, Antwan warm behind him as Jeff blurted out, bewildered, “But I wasn't going anywhere.” “No?” Antwan settled his chin on Jeff’s shoulder, digging in a little, and he could feel as much as hear him speaking. “Baby, I don’t want you to stay because you’re afraid you don’t have anywhere else to go, either.” Jeff swallowed hard, okay, yeah, he could see how someone could think that; he was kind of needy, always wanting more, but, “I’m not. I’m really not, I swear.” “Shh,” Antwan’s arms tightened, lips brushing Jeff’s cheek. “It’s okay. Do you remember talking to me in the hospital, the day after your surgery. You might not, you were a little out of it.” “Maybe?” Antwan had been there a lot right after his surgery and Jeff’s memories of it were blurred through painkillers. Antwan nodded a little. “Do you remember telling me you love me?”

Oh. Jeff closed his eyes, squeezed them shut hard, “Antwan-“ “You don’t, do you. And you haven’t said it again, but that’s okay, because we both know I haven’t either.” Antwan sighed heavily, and his arms were strong and firm around Jeff, not letting him escape. Not pushing him away. “What kind of lover have I been that you were afraid to tell me?” “I wasn’t afraid of you!” Jeff blurted, because he couldn’t bear this, hadn’t even known Antwan was hurting and it was his fault. “But you were of how I’d react,” Antwan insisted. “Which means I’ve done a shitty job of letting you know how much I love you.” Hot tears were blurring Jeff’s vision. This…this was…“You don’t have to—“ “I do have to,” Antwan rubbed their cheeks together, stubble faintly scraping. “I do, because it’s true and I should have told you a long time ago, and now I’m losing you.” “You’re not.” A broad thumb stroked gently down the side of Jeff’s face, wiping away tears that were starting to escape from beneath his lashes. “But you don’t believe me when I say I love you and I don’t blame you. What do I have to do to make you believe?" The wet streaks on Jeff’s face were cooling in the chilly wind and he finally opened his eyes, ready to see what was in front of him. Tidy flowerbeds, the sidewalk, the road, other cookie cutter homes with their own flowers, filled with people he knew. All of New New Home, right there. Everything he’d ever wanted in life was coming to him, like maybe he hadn’t helped a Monster on the bus a year ago, he’d helped a genie and wishes he hadn’t dared make were still coming true. Friends, family, a job. And love, if he was brave enough to reach for it. Five years ago, Jeff might not have, two years, one year. But Andy had come to life in him since then and he was more than ready to grab hold. “I guess you should stay with me and keep saying it as much as you can,” Jeff said, and if his voice trembled, who here would care? “You’re bound to convince me eventually." He felt as Antwan suddenly laughed, the rich, warm chuckle that Jeff loved so much filling the air and taking the tension with it. He squeezed Jeff playfully hard, making him wheeze. “I think I can make an argument for that. You know, at the hospital, I asked you to move in with me.” “Oh.” Jeff swallowed hard with new dismay, he wanted that, he did, but he’d just moved in with Blue and— Antwan saved him, again, fingers combing through Jeff’s windblown hair. “I’d love to have you, but this is okay, too. Maybe take a little while and get used to the whole love thing?” Gentle, uncertain teasing. “Blue is a nice guy and I think having you here has been good for him. He and the other diplomats have a big trip coming up in a few months, maybe when he leaves, we can revisit the idea?” “I’d like that.” Jeff took a deep breath, let it out, because it was his turn, drugged confessions notwithstanding, and he could do this. “I love you.” “I love you, too.” Terrifyingly thrilling to hear it echoed back again and maybe Antwan knew that, adding, “Get used to hearing me say it.” “It might take a while,” Jeff admitted. “That’s fine.” Warm lips brushed Jeff’s temple. “I don’t have anything else I want to do more.”

Okay, enough was enough. Jeff needed a kiss to seal this deal and he needed it now. He squirmed free of Antwan’s grabby hold, fumbling his way to his knees and kissing him before he even caught his balance. Let Antwan keep him from falling off the step, pulling him in close, cupping his face in large, warm hands. His mouth was hot, his lips cold, and Jeff slipped both arms around Antwan and held on tight. He was still lost in that heady kiss when his phone buzzed again. Jeff ignored it. He had everything he needed for now right here.

Lunch could wait.

-finis-

[quinn-pop]

happy Valentine’s Day remember to tell your favorite friendly penguin you love him

if you don’t have one of those then a friend is fine i guess :/

(kidding. go hug your friends <3)

[aceofstars16]

Inktober Day 9! Okay, so Wednesday was the one year anniversary of when I tried Gravity Falls out for the first time, and to celebrate, I watched Little Gift Shop of Horrors because it was the last episode I hadn’t rewatched (so now I’ve seen every episode at least twice) and...I got unexpected feelings from the Waddles story...maybe I’m reading too much into it but it lowkey parallels Stan and Ford and kind of maybe foreshadows Mabel and Dipper vs the Future too??? Anyways, I didn’t know who to draw so I drew the Mystery Shack! It...took a while, but I’m really happy with this!

Art c) @aceofstars16/ @aces-creative-corner

[sohmariku]

RIKU’S RANDOM LIFE: THE WONDERFUL WORLD OF... AUTISM?

Yesterday  What do I need to do today? Finish decorating the Christmas tree? Reminds me, I still need to by a Christmas stall. But the kitchen really needs to be cleaned too. It’s also about time I finish the Winter set-up of my nendoroids. Crap, I absolutely need to vacuum the house today! Laundry can wait another day,...can it?

*Proceeds to watch another episode of Avatar: the Last Airbender*

Thankfully I’ve managed to cross out most of the tasks I had to do by today, but the Christmas tree still lacks decorations and my nendoroids are still disorderly shoved on the shelves. Maybe tomorrow...?

(I came to come to the conclusion I still have dry laundry hanging on the clothesline... I estimate it’s been up there for about a week now.)

While my mind is usually in a state of “semi-organised chaos”, the last couple weeks it’s mostly been “pure chaos”. Due to an overload of responsibilities, birthday parties and other holiday-celebrating occasions, I can’t seem to keep up with even the most basic tasks. 

In short, I’m mentally exhausted and need a break.

Last time I blamed my kitten for the lack of progress on any subtitles, but... I’ve come to the realization it’s been not just that. The seemingly never-ending string of social responsibilities has drained away all my energy... to the point I could barely be bothered to eat breakfast some days. Of course my dumb-ass mind was too tired to realize what was going on and... Hello Meltdown Yesterday. 

In hindsight, I really should have skipped that birthday dinner party, but my boyfriend was already guilt tripping me into going, before I even could mention I didn’t want to go. His father would be so happy if I’d be there, he said. Mind you, I had completely forgotten about that party until my boyfriend called around 4PM telling me he was on the way home, so we’d surely get to the restaurant in time. That day was supposed to be MY DAY OFF! Because I could feel I had reached my limit. Nope, that evening is gone! Though I was literally on the verge of crying, I decided to push through, because his parents feel they don’t see me around enough already and gotta keep them happy, sorta.

The effect showed immediately, because it took me two days to even realize I had forgotten my scarf at the restaurant! And I only noticed, because I couldn’t find it when I forced myself to do the grocery shopping I absolutely didn’t feel like doing, because I was still recovering from said dinner party. Of course, as the responsible adult I am, I didn’t call the restaurant, but instead texted my boyfriend “I think I might have forgotten my scarf at the restaurant!” and prayed he’d solve the problem without me literally needing to ask him to make the call for me. Because if there’s anything I hate more than making phone calls, I hate making phone calls to admit I’m an absolute airhead who forgot her scarf! Thankfully he fixed it without me needing to spell it out word for word. Got my scarf back. 

But really, this whole debacle really shows how on-edge I was that evening. I clearly remember thinking to myself “don’t forget your scarf” and then came the waiter who handed me a little rubber duck. (because apparently every female customer gets one) And boom, I became a happy little penguin with my rubber duck. It was all I could focus on ad when people started to leave, I quickly waddled outside (after saying some painfully awkward goodbyes to people I don’t actually know, but who do know me) and totally forgot about the scarf. Until days later! But yes, I got it back.

(To add to that, I lost that same scarf again today but in the Garden center, because I was too focused on a text conversation on my phone. Took me a lot of courage and agonizing to ask the staff if anyone had found it. They did, I got it back. Also, when doing some grocery shopping last week, I forgot my empty shopping bag at the cashier. I didn’t go back to ask if anyone found it. I could get a new one for only 58 eurocents after all. Anyway, notice a trend?) 

If that wasn’t enough. The worst part is probably, I know I’m not out of the woods yet. Choir practice on Friday (20), Christmas Market Choir performance on Sunday (22), Christmas Evening Church Mass with choir on Tuesday (24),Christmas with family (parents/siblings) on Wednesday (25), Christmas with extended family (grandparents/uncles/aunts/cousins) on Thursday (26)... 

Somewhere in between all that I need to find time to properly clean my whole house (which hasn’t happened in forever), because I’ll be the one hosting the Christmas gathering on the 26th (It’s way too late to back out now...) and my aunts are already judging me enough as it is.I don’t need them to think I’m living like a pig. (It’s the first time they’ll see my house, so they’ll be sticking their noses everywhere most likely...) My house isn’t dirty per se, but it could definitely be cleaner.

And when you think the “suffering” finally ends... my boyfriend has a compulsory day off from work (27). So, I won’t get a fully quiet day until Monday (30). My plans for New Year’s Eve (31) are still unclear. But then my boyfriend has another compulsory day off  on New Year’s (1) and he also decided to take Thursday (2) and Friday (3) off too. Now my grandmother’s birthday is on the 7th, but she might very well be celebrating it on the 4th or 5th. Or the weekend after that (11-12). Plus in either of those weekends my boyfriend’s parents very much want to go out for dinner with us too...

In short, that means I’m not expecting any “true” down-time until well into January... And just that thought alone is enough to drain away the last bit of energy I had left and dread the rest of the month. 

Always love the holiday season... //hear the sarcasm// 

If it was up to me I’d go into hibernation and wake up somewhere in January.

---

Note: Though I have no official diagnosis (and not sure if I’ll ever pursue one), in hindsight, I’m pretty clearly on the Autistic Spectrum. It’s only been a year ago since I really came to this realization, I’m apparently pretty good at masking, and I’m still trying to wrap my head around it. My autism affects a great deal of my life. For one, any social interaction requires a lot of energy. It’s worse if I’m meeting with a large group of people. And even if I’m not in the same room, having another person in the house will somehow keep me on edge to a certain extent. I’m well aware that full schedules are exhausting to everyone, but to me they are “extra” exhausting. For example, it can take 2 full weeks to fully recover from a gathering with extended family. And when I’m in recovery, it’s very hard to do anything productive on a day. As I’m writing this, it sounds insane. And it doesn’t always happen, but it does happen and that’s extremely inconvenient. 

This post became a lot longer than I expected, but I guess it’s good to finally talk about this? Though part of me is feeling really anxious about it. How dare I claim to be autistic without an official diagnosis? It’s silly. My life is all about silly worries. This is just one of them. The anxiety is real. >< Guess I’d better just post this already... and then regret it all night... have trouble to fall asleep... while I dread the reactions people might have. Yes, that’s how my mind works. By morning I’ll realize I had nothing to fear, I hope... O.O;;

By the way, congrats if you made it all the way to the end of my rambling!

[jae-bummer]

My Idol: Part Eighteen

My Idol From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

My Idol is a South Korean competitive reality dating game show. It currently airs on Wednesday nights on Jae-bummer’s blog. First broadcast in 2016, the show offers the opportunity for a lucky fan to go on seven blind dates with seven idols. The idol plans the date with the show throwing in specific missions to complete during the day. At the end of the initial dates, the show opens up an audience vote to decide what three idols will move on to the second date.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - Part 16 - Part 17 -  Part 18 - Part 19 - Part 20 - Part 21 - Part 22

The sun peaked through the leafy canopy above your heads and fell warmly on your cheekbones. You closed your eyes and basked in it as if you were a plant undergoing photosynthesis. You attempted to internalize Taehyung’s words, wallow in the positivity and tenderness. You tried to push the idea of My Idol out of your head, the idea that you were both at the mercy of a television audience. 

“Taehyung,” you hummed, nestling your head comfortably into his chest. “You make my heart happy.”

You felt him radiate with joy beneath you as he wrapped his arms tightly around your shoulders. “Well, you make my soul happy.”

“Aigoo,” you groaned, still keeping your smile in it’s place. “Don’t be so sentimental.” 

“Me?” he giggled. “I’m not sentimental. I just don’t hesitate to let others know when I appreciate them.”

“And why’s that?” you teased, looking away from the underside of his jaw. Your eyes followed a bumblebee as it bobbled clumsily in the air above you. 

“Well, if anything were to ever happen to me…or to someone I care for, I would be more upset over the words I didn’t say than any of the ones I did. My…my grandmother…she um…passed away? While we were doing promotions for Blood, Sweat, and Tears. I wish…I wish I could’ve said so many things to her. I’m not sure of everything I would’ve said…but I know I would’ve said more. I’ve heard people say, some words are a waste of breath, but words are all I’ve got.” 

You shifted in the woven fabric to angle yourself to look more closely at Taehyung. His usual cheerful expression had abandoned his face as it was replaced by something earnest. HIs eyes preached honesty as he stared back at you, a thickness filling the light spring air. He seemed to feel the strange shift in mood as well as he whispered. “Well…that and tickles.”

You screeched as Taehyung launched toward you, his large and narrow fingers beginning to crawl quickly across your body, hitting every tender spot of your flesh. 

“We’re going to flip the hammock!” you wheezed, the fabric beneath you swaying forward and back. 

“We’re in a cocoon of safety!” Taehyung insisted, his boxy smile shining and hands never halting in their furious speed. 

“Yah, if the hammock is rocking, don’t come knocking,” an unfamiliar voice giggled, followed by a hiccupy laugh. 

“Ah, hyung!” Taehyung groaned at the cheesy joke, slowly pulling his hands from your sides. The shifting hammock slowed, allowing you to make eye contact with the tall boy who had appeared beside you. “Y/N, this is Jin hyung!” 

“J-J-Jin?” you squeaked, your face beginning to grow hot. “You invited your member?”

“Well…members…as in plural…if you want to get technical,” another deep voice sounded nearby. You immediately jerked forward in the hammock, sitting up and eying the other five members of Bangtan. As you did so, it seemed as if you put a little too much force behind your motions, causing your alleged cocoon of safety to dramatically swing, dumping both you and Taehyung onto the ground with a thud. 

“Are you alright?” Jin asked, immediately crouching to become eye level. You looked up, a bit embarrassed at the small group of boys surrounding you. You giggled nervously as your gaze shifted to Taehyung who was also watching you carefully. 

“I’m fine,” you confirmed with a small nod as you began to stand, dusting off your jeans on the way up. “I just know how to make a good first impression I guess.”

“Taehyung invited us for lunch…I hope you don’t mind,” the man you recognized to be Namjoon nodded with a small bow. “We tried to tell him it was a bad idea but-”

“I told you on our last date that I wanted you to meet my members,” Taehyung nodded. “They’re my family away from family, so it’s very important to me.”

“So somehow you got saddled with a weird group date,” another boy sighed, stepping up. “I’m Yoongi by the way. I was told there would be food?”

“Ah, right,” Taehyung nodded. “Jimin, can you spread out the blanket from my bag? Kookie, come to the car with me and get the basket.”

Jungkook nodded to Taehyung as Jimin stumbled off toward the lake. You looked up to the four eldest boys and smiled. “So-”

“Tell us all about yourself,” one of the boys cooed, wrapping his arm easily around yours. “I’m Hoseok by the way.”

“Nice to formally meet you,” you smiled, feeling at ease with the group. What originally had emerged as nervous butterflies quietly settled as you began to walk toward Jimin, arm in arm with Hoseok. 

“Yeah, get all of the pleasantries out of the way, so we can dive into her deep, dark past over potato salad,” Yoongi muttered as he followed. Your eyes grew wide as you looked toward Hoseok who was too busy rolling his own to notice your expression. 

“He’s joking,” Hoseok nodded, pursing his lips. “He gets a little grumpy when he’s hungry.”

“I do not and I am not,” Yoongi grumbled. “I am both enthusiastic about potato salad and emotionally crippling moments from Y/N’s past.”

“Leave her alone hyung,” Namjoon groaned. “Isn’t your whole life one elongated emotionally crippling moment anyway?” 

“Every moment I’m awake,” Yoongi nodded darkly, plopping onto the plaid blanket Jimin had laid out. 

“Aish, quit with this talk,” Jimin sighed, sitting beside Yoongi and patting his knee. “I’d prefer to enjoy my lunch without an existential crisis.”

“Aren’t these guys annoying?” Jin asked, looking at the group and throwing a casual finger toward Armpit and Sweaty. “They kind of just…loom behind you, breathing heavily.” 

“You get used to them,” you nodded, smiling up fondly at the only two constants in your day to day. As you reflected on it, you were hit by a sudden pang of sadness. What had your life become? 

“Let’s see,” Taehyung hummed, reappearing with a large basket in his hands. “We’ve got some jang jorim…kong namul…yakbap-”

“If there is no kimbap, I’m getting back into the car,” Jungkook grumbled, waddling behind him with another basket. 

“No one’s stopping you,” Jimin teased. “That just means more mandoo and summer rolls for us.”

“You had me at mandoo,” Jungkook smiled, sitting down on the blanket. 

Taehyung busied himself along the picnic baskets, passing out various containers and plates to the boys around you, never forgetting to share eye contact with you every time he looked up. You couldn’t help but smile at the intimate moments he created, taking genuine care in making sure you feel appreciated amongst the people he cared for the most. 

“Y/N,” Hoseok said abruptly through a mouth full of food. You shook your head slowly, trying to bring your thoughts off of Taehyung’s handsome face. “What made you decide to join a dating reality show?” 

You opened your mouth for a moment, tilting your head before you attempted to speak. As words fought to find their place on your tongue, another boy began to talk instead.

“You’re a foreigner, aren’t you?” Jimin hummed quietly. “Isn’t that scary to put yourself out there in a different country?”

“Did you-” Jungkook began, but was quickly cut off by Namjoon. 

“Hey, why don’t you let her answer the other questions first?” he chuckled. “Sorry, they get enthusiastic around new people.”

“Really it’s just like a group of excited puppies,” Yoongi muttered, poking around at his kimbap. “Constantly wagging their tails and vying for affection.”

You chuckled as you shifted in your seat, thinking of each boy’s question. “Well, my friend and I both entered for the position on My Idol. I guess originally…when I signed up, I thought the idea of actually getting onto the show was so bizarre, that it couldn’t possibly happen. Nothing exciting ever happens in my life, so I assumed I would just be turned away and continue on to live through the dullness…

…I’ve been in Korea a few years now, but as mentioned, I didn’t honestly think I’d ever make it. I think if I would’ve passed up on the experience…because I was frightened or uncomfortable…I would’ve regretted it.”

“Plus cute boys,” Jin nodded confidently, slurping up some sort of noodle. 

You giggled as you turned, each of the boys nodding to agree with their eldest hyung. 

“I’m sure Taehyung told you that I also asked our managers to appear on the show,” Jin continued, wiggling his brows. “Are you disappointed?”

“Yah! You can’t ask her that!” Namjoon gasped, waving his head and arms in unison. “Y/N, don’t answer that. We’re such a mess.”

“But honestly,” Jimin nodded. “What do you think of our Taehyungie?” 

You smiled slowly, biting your lip as you focused your attention on Taehyung. He made direct eye contact with you, looking away shyly after a few moments of shared focus. 

“Taehyung is one of the most intriguing guys I’ve ever met,” you nodded. 

“You have to give us more than that,” Jungkook moaned. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever met someone quite as genuine and pure as he is,” you continued. “He’s a human representation of what happens when you put good out into the universe. You get amazing things back ten fold. I think it’s easy for others to write him off as innocent or strange, but I think he’s incredibly complex.”

“A lot of people don’t realize he’s one of the most intelligent members among us,” Namjoon nodded. “Sometimes people get carried away calling him 4D and alien, but it’s because these imaginative things seep out from the deepest places of his mind. He’s very talented.”

“And compassionate,” Jimin nodded. “He often thinks of us before he ever thinks of himself. He talks nonstop about his family even though he probably only sees them twice a year. And don’t get me started on his obsession with all things small and fluffy.”

“Does that include you?” Yoongi cackled, taking another bite of his summer roll. 

“Aigoo,” Taehyung groaned. “Stop it with all of these compliments.”

“Get them while you can,” Jin sighed. “I don’t think I’ve heard a compliment from you people since 2014.”

“But don’t you compliment yourself enough?” Namjoon chuckled, winking at his hyung. Jin gasped as he dropped his fork, thinking better of it, and picking it up again. Instead of throwing a temper tantrum, he opted to stuff more food into his mouth. 

“Really though,” Namjoon nodded. “I think we were all a little concerned when Tae joined the show.”

You furrowed your brows as you shifted your attention from Namjoon to Taehyung. His face immediately grew dark as he looked away from you and toward the lake. 

“Just as you mentioned,” Hoseok nodded. “Our Taehyungie is very genuine. He opens up and gives his heart easily. He’s the type to trust and give endless second chances. We just…don’t want to see him get hurt.”

“You should’ve seen him after your last date,” Jimin sighed. “When he came back to the dorm, I thought he was going to cartwheel down the hall in excitement.”

“I can’t do a cartwheel…” Taehyung muttered, looking up at his members, ashamed. 

Namjoon rolled his eyes and let out a soft laugh. “I know you can’t control the voting, but we appreciate how happy you’ve made him. If you’re good enough for our Taehyung, you’re good enough for us.” 

Taehyung wiggled from side to side as he heard Namjoon speak these words, a large smile reappearing on his face. “I told you you’d like her.” 

The rest of the afternoon passed incredibly quickly. Following lunch, the boys had all agreed to give you and Taehyung some privacy before your date would have to come to a close. As you walked side by side along the lake, you sighed happily as Taehyung slipped his hand into yours. 

You lifted your eyes, gazing intently at his side profile as you walked. HIs brows were knitted together, tight in a thought that he wasn’t voicing. His dark brown eyes hovered carefully over slightly darker shadows, heavy from lack of sleep due to his overpacked schedule. His lips curved at the edges, lost in a perpetual smile he’d never be able to shake. He glowed with an energy that never faltered, almost letting out a physical radiation of his positivity. 

You continued in silence for a moment, enjoying Taehyung as he was, with no frills or members to distract you. You didn’t necessarily feel like the addition of his members had impacted your date negatively, but you definitely appreciated something a bit more quiet. Leave it to Taehyung to follow his word and invite an additional six boys on your date.

“What are you so lost in thought about?” you whispered. 

“Hm? Me?” he asked, his voice sounding dreamy. “Just thinking about what Namjoon hyung said.”

“Which part?” you chuckled. “I’m sure Jin doesn’t compliment himself all that much, no use letting it bother you.”

Taehyung let out a solid laugh before letting it fizzle out, opting to furrow his brows again. “Just the part…about being concerned about me. I haven’t really wanted to say anything, but I think I’m concerned for me too…and concerned for you.”

“Elaborate,” you nodded, squeezing his hand lightly. 

“Well, I realize that I may not move on to the next round,” he began slowly. 

“Tae-”

“No, don’t start filling me with false hope. I do that enough for myself. I hide behind my desires, thinking about the next date and planning it because if I act like it will happen, I can usually talk myself into thinking it will. I know only two people are moving on to the weekend dates and my chances aren’t that good. I don’t know if it’s the success of Bangtan or the viewers genuinely liking me…but I’m afraid it’ll run out…and I’ll never see you again,” he said quietly. 

“Taehyung,” you cooed, halting your forward motion to pull him into a hug. He clung tightly to your waist, setting his chin on your shoulder. He leaned back to look into your eyes before continuing to speak. 

“I guess…to be honest, that’s not even what I’m most afraid of. I’m most afraid for you. If I’m feeling all of these mixed up and hopeful things, what’s going on in your heart…and in your head…has to be a hurricane. I hate thinking about you struggling…especially when I can’t help.” 

You attempted to keep the tears from slipping out of your eyes. You felt so open in front of Taehyung, as if he could see right through you and the walls you had built to hide from the reality of My Idol. 

“Y/N,” he said slowly, lifting his hand to rest on your cheek. HIs swept his thumb across your face. He bit his lip, his voice barely above a whisper. “Can I…can I kiss you?”

His words seemed to skim the surface as you looked deep into his eyes. You slowly began to nod, not recognizing if you truly wanted to give him permission or not. It would only suck you in deeper into the feelings you were so desperately trying to keep even. 

You closed your eyes slowly as Tae’s plump lips slowly came toward your face. You were willing to take this leap of faith…

…as long as it meant Taehyung would be the one there to catch you. 

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 - PART 4 - PART 5 - PART 6 - PART 7 - PART 8 - PART 9 - PART 10 - PART 11 - PART 12 - PART 13 - PART 14 - PART 15 - PART 16 - PART 17 - PART 18 - PART 19 - Part 20 - Part 21 - Part 22

[scullyitsme]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SCULLY!

I wrote a fuckin’ fic in honor of this occasion, giving myself the prompt of working through the first birthday she would have had with Mulder — her 30th, which was also right after her father died. 

Includes: rambling answering machine messages, mention of Scully’s sex drive, day drinking, menstruation, astrolabes, EZ OFF, light notes of Fox Mulder’s Tragic Backstory, a depressing salad, Scully’s Living Will, a U2 song, Fiestaware, and a quote from Ulysses. 

Scully stumbles out of a dream, a series of futile blinks against her too-dark bedroom. Her mother always calls her at 4:42 in the morning on February 23rd; the exact moment of her birth. The clock on her night stand reads 5:01.

Her mother will stay dead-to-the-world from the tranquilizers until at least mid-morning, if not lunch time. Grieving widows need their rest. Scully knows this, but there’s still a childish whine in her chest at being forgotten.

Her father’s been dead almost two months. It’s only because she’s thinking of him now that she realizes there must have been a point in the last six weeks when she wasn’t, and she doesn’t know when that moment was. But now that he’s on her mind again, she knows he will be for the remains of the day.

She’s 30. She knows it should mean something to her, but it doesn’t.

Zinc, she thinks. Atomic number 30 on the periodic table of elements. It galvanizes other metals, keeps them from rusting. It’s an essential component of proper human nutrition, abundant in spinach, oysters, beef, kidney beans —

Sunflower seeds.

She tries to imagine herself interrupting Mulder’s diatribe on The Taos Hum to inform him that it’s her birthday. She’s certain he’s read her file, and while she doubts that he would have committed her date of birth to memory, she doesn’t feel entirely confident ruling it out.

She’d been assigned to the X-Files a few weeks after her 29th.  She’d spent the evening alone in the tub drinking straight from a bottle of smoky Malbec. The year before, she and Jack Willis celebrated their shared birthday by fucking each other raw in a cabin nestled somewhere in the Blue Ridge Highlands, which she’d probably never be able to find again — not that she’d want to.  

It hadn’t been about the sex anyway. She didn’t crave sex — never had. At least, not strongly enough that she couldn’t satisfy it herself in the same manner as she approached everything in life: with skill and speed. Dana Scully was proficient and expedient in her mastabatory prowess — a laurel not included on her curriculum vitae.

She wanted Jack because he thought she was fascinating and necessary. Because he told her she was “achingly brilliant”. Because he was a little afraid of her, and she liked that. She wanted him because his desire for her was so intense it made his hands shake. Because she had a cabinet full of dish ware and coffee mugs that she never used, and a drawer of untouched cutlery she hadn’t even had to wash yet.

“Y’alright there, Scully?”

She blinks up at Mulder. He’s wearing a mildly amused half-grin and his hair is flopping onto his forehead like a doofy adolescent. He probably hasn’t washed it since Monday, and it’s Wednesday. She doesn’t know whether to be impressed or distressed by his dedication to an aesthetic of rumpled indolence.

“I’m fine, Mulder,” she says, but it comes out more of a moan squeezed between her teeth. She doesn’t look up at him because she doesn’t want to be embarrassed by a flicker of arousal in his eyes — or worse, a complete lack thereof.

He relaunches his exposition and she glances down at her lap intending to pick at a cuticle, at which time she notices her blouse is buttoned crooked.  

At quarter ‘till noon, she sighs into her hands in the women’s restroom. She doesn’t have a tampon, and the Bureau doesn’t exactly offer a concierge service for its feminine minority.

She approximates how many periods she’s had in her life (187), which is around how many she estimates she has left until menopause. As she wads up some diaphanous toilet tissue, she considers the virtues of ditching her diaphragm for The Pill in order to permanently staunch her onerous monthly blood letting.

If and until she decides to get pregnant, at least. She stuffs the gauzy bundle into her underwear and frowns, batting away the ridiculous mental image of herself as a spherical skeptic, waddling after Mulder into some abject gloom.

She yanks up her petite-short slacks and wonders where he thinks babies come from.

When Mulder announces it’s lunch time as he stretches his brawny arms above his head — groaning with almost erotic satisfaction as his back cracks — she doesn’t protest.

She doesn’t say anything, actually. Just grabs her coat and follows him, yanking her leather gloves from the pockets of her trench as they ascend the stairs. They emerge side by side from the obscurity that’s become so familiar to her into the white-hot light of the bullpen.

He blows into his cupped hands as they step into the parking garage, nodding toward his car. Scully doesn’t object to this either, she just slides into the passenger seat and buckles in before he’s even put the key in the ignition.

She says nothing until he merges onto I-395.

“I thought we were going to lunch, Mulder?” She hadn’t meant to snivel, and the sound of it grinds through her skull like an ultrasonic bone saw.

“We are,” he says, revealing nothing but a few of his molars in a wide grin. He turns on the radio and taps his palms against the steering wheel in time to the beat.

Her indulgent smirk morphs into something more agog when she realizes he knows all the words to this U2 song. She actually hears herself laugh a moment later when she realizes that somehow — through osmotic means maybe —  so does she.

Johnny, take a dive with your sister in the rain

Let her talk about the things you can't explain

To touch is to heal, to hurt is to steal

If you want to kiss the sky, better learn how to kneel.

She's the wave, she turns the tide

She sees the man inside the child

It's alright, it's alright, it's alright

She moves in mysterious ways

“Are you going to make me guess what X-File could possibly be lurking in the U.S. Navy Yard?” she quips, throwing him a look. He’s locking his car, so he doesn’t see it.

“We’re not here on business, Scully,” he says, giving his keys an exaggerated jangle before dropping them into the bottomless pocket of his ankle-length trench. She’d probably be up to her shoulder if she tried to retrieve them, she thinks.

“Mulder—” she starts, expecting him to interrupt her. When he doesn’t, and his hand hovers at the small of her back, she realizes she never intended to finish the sentence.

“I haven’t been here since I was a kid,” she blushes, knowing her voice is caked with nostalgia.

“I figured as much,” Mulder shrugs, “Your father was a Captain, right?”

She looks up to where he’s nodding toward a display of naval uniforms. The crisp whites make her throat ache. She can almost smell the bleach hanging in the air for weeks after her father went out to sea again. She’s still amazed her mother’s hands aren’t scarred from chemical burns.

“Yeah,” Scully breathes, unable to look away from the faceless mannequin wearing her father’s regalia, “Cruisers mostly, if memory serves. A littoral combat ship or two right before he retired. They were building them in San Diego. Still are, I think.”

“What are they? Destroyers?”

Scully lets her gaze fall away, gets her bearings in the museum’s atrium, “No, smaller. Faster. More versatile. The height of military engineering technology. They’re supposedly the future of the fleet.”

Mulder nods, but doesn’t respond. She looks up at him, thinking he’s probably bored out of his mind, only to discover he’s being pulled to the next room beneath an arch that reads Navigation.

She knows where this is going even without a compass.

“I guess those ships probably have more high-tech nav than this, huh Scully?”

When she’s beside him again, he’s looking up – as always, his eyes to the sky and neck craned such that she can practically feel the osteophyte complex forming in his cervical vertebrae.

“My father knew how to navigate by the stars,” she shrugs, “I imagine they still teach it at the Naval Academy as a back-up.”

“Right. The stars never short circuit,” he says, his head lolling down. He uses the momentum to stumble forward so he can squint into a glass case filled with sextants and astrolabes.

“Well, that’s not entirely true,” she says, folding her arms across her chest for no particular reason, “Stellar spectra overheat and explode all the time.”

“Supernovas ,” he says, straightening up, “The death of a star.”

She ducks her chin, a little chided. “I’m still getting used to regularly conversing with someone whose knowledge base rivals mine.”

“Supernovas are capable of outshining entire galaxies and producing more energy than the Sun ever will,” Mulder continues. He’s not looking at her, and she rationalizes that he hadn’t heard her response, “That brightness isn’t sustainable, though. They flare up brilliantly, then collapse in on themselves and die — quite literally the definition of burning out .”

She’s looking at him when he finally turns. He locks onto her gaze sooner than he expected to, and it’s clearly jarring. But they both hold steady, refusing to be the first to look away; neither willing to concede that they are the one bearing the strongest resemblance to the enervated cosmos.

Since they’re already late heading back to the Hoover building, Mulder figures they might as well grab lunch at a restaurant situated in the old boilermaker shops next to the Navy yard. He checks his watch as they slip into a corner booth, then orders a beer with his slipshod hamburger.

Scully raises an eyebrow and he just shrugs, pushing a julienned onion between his lips.

She incessantly prods her salad. When it doesn’t turn into something with more of a brine, she reaches over and steals a french fry from his plate. She expects  him to make a show of guarding the dish, but he doesn’t. He nudges it toward her without a word.

“Mulder,” she chews, “Can I ask a favor?”

He takes a long swill of beer and nods.

“I update my living will annually, and I’d like to file a copy with the Bureau. Would you be a witness when I have it notarized? I’ll probably do it later this week.” She steals another fry and stuffs it into her mouth, flicking the salt from her fingertips — though she would have rather licked them clean.

“Sure, Scully,” he says, reaching for the lopsided hamburger, “But only if you promise to leave me that Fiestaware relish tray collecting dust in your kitchen hutch.”

She pauses, her hand hovering over his plate, a few limp fries dangling from her greasy fingers. He smiles, plucking a fry from her hand which he proceeds to cram into his open mouth with the dexterity of a five-year-old.

“It’s your mother’s right?” He asks without waiting for her to answer, “My mother had the same one. The New England elite live for gaudy yet durable dinnerware.”

“I forgot you grew up there,” Scully lilts, reaching for her glass of ice water, which has begun to sweat, “That must be why naval history had you so enthralled. Have I unwittingly made the acquaintance of one of the Vineyard’s finest skippers?”

Mulder snorts, tipping his head back so he can toss the crispy butt-end of a fry into his gob, “A natural assumption — but an incorrect one. I was born with a congenital absence of sea legs. Whatever the gene is, mine’s defective.”

“Conditions of the cerebellar and vestibular systems do seem to have a strong genetic component,” she muses, “I’m guessing what you really mean is that you experience motion sickness.”

“Not motion sickness — seasickness. I don’t get carsick, I’m fine on airplanes, and I can go a round or two on the Tilt-a-Whirl — but the open sea I can’t stomach. Odd, seeing as how I was practically born in it.”

Scully’s eyebrow quirks and she wants to ask, but he’s got a mouthful of hamburger. She tucks it away as a story to be drawn from his marrow at another time. He swallows, and she forges ahead, resting her chin in her hand, “Are you a strong swimmer?”

He nods quickly in the affirmative with bright-eyed, boyish pride, “ Very .”

Scully hums behind her pursed lips, studying him a moment longer before she glances down at her wilted salad, “Maybe you’re afraid of it.”

Mulder chuckles into his napkin, clearing his throat before he bellows, “The sea, the snotgreen sea, the scrotumtightening sea.”

She feels her eyebrows knit together, pulled taut like a suture.

“It’s from Ulysses ,” he murmurs, reaching for his beer. He takes a swig and volleys back to her, “What about you, Scully? Can you sail a sloop or a yawl — or did you father only teach you to command frigates?”

“I can tack a sloop,” she says, doing a double-take when she registers he’s staring, “It’s just physics, Mulder. Maintaining the correct distance between the jib and the masthead allows for greater control of airflow, which increases the efficiency of the sails.”

He shakes his head lightly, then downs the last of his beer, “Geez, Scully: Sailboats, Supernovas. . .you got anything on Storsjoodjuret ?”

She smirks and shakes her head, reaching for the singular french fry left on his plate.

“Yeah, me neither,” he sighs wistfully, “I don’t speak Swedish.”

The afternoon slips through her hands like a rosary, and as he throws his car into park next to hers in the FBI parking garage, she realizes all that’s left to do is go home.

He says he’ll “handle” Skinner, but she has a feeling Skinner had been “handled” well before they’d set out on their little escapade.

“So,” he yawns, eyeing her hand as it lingers on the buckle of her seat belt — which she regrettably frees herself from, “Got any big plans tonight, Scully?”

She looks up at him, her eyes slow-blinking as though they are in tandem with the sigh she fails to suppress. Lying to him would be pointless for one, but beyond that she simply has no desire to tell him anything other than the fact-is truths.

“Not particularly,” she says, scrunching her little nose indifferently, “My mom’s still having a hard time, and the rest aren’t around here. My sister’s the closest — not just geographically but, y’know. . . ” she flicks her eyes up at him, half-shrugging as if to indicate a personal closeness that she assumes he understands.  It hits her almost immediately after she’s said the words, and she chokes:

Yeah. He did know.

Shit.

She winces and silently berates herself for being so tone deaf before loudly clearing her throat and rushing through a half-assed explanation of her own sister’s whereabouts — which are known, “She’s at some kind of retreat in upstate New York right now.”

Scully pouts, waving her hand about as though she’s trying to dispel the ghosts currently hovering above the gearshift — which she inadvertently summoned.

“You’re just gonna be alone?”

She stops fidgeting and looks at him, resolving herself to his pity, the myriad ways life’s heartaches play across his face like moonlight on deep water.

“It’s not a big deal, Mulder,” she mutters, but she doesn’t mean it.

But when he fails to offer anything to the contrary, just continues to look at her with his flushed high cheekbones, she intuits that he knows she’s making light. It occurs to her, when his hand brushes her knee as he rummages through the glove box for a tucked away bag of seeds, that a great deal of what’s understood between them has never been spoken.

She likes the way that feels.

Her apartment is pitch black when she gets home — winter afternoons parading as impatient nighttimes. She drops her keys in a small ceramic dish on a table by the door, and takes her time shrugging off her coat — feeling exposed without it when she finally relinquishes it to a hook. Her answering machine is blinking; an angry red eye. She doesn’t flip on a light, just hits the ‘play’ button and lets regret-filled voices fill the room as she escapes down the hall to her bedroom. Escaping guilt, sympathy — and the obligation to attempt conversation with a machine.

Dana, it’s Mom. I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I know I always call but. . .I love you.

The next twenty seconds are just the sound of her mother crying, then a click over to the next message. As ever, the perk in her sister’s voice saves Scully from their mother’s muchness.

Missy has a habit of leaving messages without preamble, which Scully finds simultaneously endearing and vexing.

Did you know we take like 30,000 breaths a day? Yeah, you’re a doctor. Maybe you did know that. BUT! Did you know that most people actually breathe too shallowly to do themselves any good? I was in this workshop today with a free diver and he was teaching us how to breathe properly. I feel like I’ve lived my whole life without air before now — it’s incredible! You’d hate this place, Danie. That’s how I know it’s exactly where I’m meant to be right now. But I’m sorry that meant I couldn’t be there for your birthday. I know you don’t think 30 bears any significance, but. . .you’re still in your first Pinnacle cycle, you know. In numerology, remember? You’re a number 7: The Seeker, the searcher of truth. Intelligent but aloof. Analytical and melancholic. That sounds about right, doesn’t it? Oh! And your first 30-year period cycle is over. Your numerological period, I mean — not *that* period. But you’re on yours, aren’t you? I bet you are, because I just got mine. Anyway, I was going to look at your path number. Hold on, lemme grab a pen. Okay! So, your life path number is. . .9. Huh. Danie, you got plans to save the world I don’t know about? That’s usually what’s ascribed to life path 9-ers. But that’s a pretty alienated life path to go down. A kinda lonely one. And you’ll have to overcome a lot. . .but you have so much to give to the world. And I know you — you’ll endure. I gotta but but before I forget, remember: Pisces are ruled by their feet — so buy yourself some good shoes, okay?

The news drones quietly from the living as she scrubs the interior of her kitchen stove. She’s got thick rubber gloves on up to her elbows, and when she could no longer stand the acrid, chemical plume of EZ OFF, she’d rubber-banded a dishtowel over her nose and mouth.

She looks as pitiable as she feels; tears that burn the corners of her eyes, and she tells herself they’re from the emanating fumes — a likely story. One she wouldn’t have to explain to anyone, not even herself. She’s straining to hear the evening news anchor when, instead, she hears a knock at the door. Glancing at the stove clock as she stands and removes her Macgyvered PPE, she wonders if her mother’s guilt has propelled her across state lines.

Her still-gloved hands make her fumble with the chain on her door as she winks an eye closed to gaze through the peep hole.

Oh, help.

It occurs to her that she could just not open the door. That he’d turn away after another lingering moment, assuming perhaps that she’d gone out after all. It would be a much happier image to present him with than, say — the tableau of her kneeling before of her stove like a more fastidious Sylvia Plath. Her tangled mop of ruddy hair is all tied up under a faded bandanna she stole from her brother years ago, and she’s sporting an old coffee-stained academy tee shirt and a pair of Gitano jeans she hasn’t worn since college. Not to mention the soles of her bare feet are mottled with crumbs.

He looks sweetly perplexed when she opens the door, wiping her forearm across her forehead as she glowers up at him from her noticeably reduced vantage point.  

“We can do it —?” He asks, crooking his arm up at a 90 degree angle to his face — an immemorial nod to her get-up.

She takes a step back into her apartment, her grimey hands twitching against the heft of her front door. When she closes it, a little harder than is strictly necessary, she wonders if she’s hoping to keep something out — or in.

“Sorry I didn’t call first,” he says absently, his eyes having found her cleaning project, “I was, uh— just in the neighborhood.”

“Mulder, that line will never work on me,” she scoffs as she yanks off the gloves, “I know you live in Alexandria.”

He gives her a playfully hangdog glance over his shoulder. Her arms are firmly crossed, but she’s smiling. He shrugs, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. She thinks he’s being bashful until one hand comes out again, holding a small, carelessly wrapped parcel.

“I meant to give you this earlier. . .” he says, jutting his hand toward her. She doesn’t take a step closer, unsure of herself. He waggles his eyebrows at her, then tosses it. She lets out a small yip, her hands flaring open to catch it. As she does, she manages to awkwardly slap it against her chest.

It’s practically weightless, whatever it is. She thinks of Missy on her answering machine prattling on about respiration. She wonders if Mulder has gifted her a literal breath of fresh air, wrapped in what might be the remnants of a brown paper bag.

She looks up at him: hunched shoulders shrouded by a leather jacket she imagines smells as good as it looks, a well-fitting pair of jeans with a back pocket that keeps the shape of his wallet even when it’s empty. Not that she’s been looking at his ass.

He’s washed his hair, she notes. It’s a little spiky in the back where his head was pressed against the carseat on his way here. He’s grinning at her expectantly, and she realizes that she hasn’t even moved to unfurl her arms from her chest.

She reaches a clumsy hand up to purloin the gift from where it’s nestled between her breasts, which are at present pushed up by her forearms. She realizes that she’s still wearing her black bra under this white tee shirt, and her face goes scarlet.

“It’s nothing fancy,” he qualifies, running a hand along his jaw, trying to alleviate her discomposure, which he’s misattributed to his present. She’s feeling a little too seen, a little caught out. His presence is almost intrusive, but only because he’s been standing in her foyer, unmoving, as though he doesn’t belong here. She never has been a good host.

“ Siddown , Mulder,” she grunts on her way by him, headed for the kitchen. She flops unceremoniously down in a chair at the table, her legs folded beneath her, and gently places the diminutive parcel on the tabletop. He lobs himself into the chair next to her, one arm settled over the back of it. He’s chewing on the skin of his thumb.

“Want coffee?” She asks, her eyebrow twitching in question.

“Are you stalling?” He grins, his teeth clicking audibly against his thumb nail.

“No,” she says coolly, smiling a little too forcefully, “Just trying to be polite.”

“Sure, Scully,” he says, “I’ll make it. You open that.”

“But Mulder –”

He’s already at the counter, having leapt up as though spring-loaded, “You’ve got a nicer coffee maker than I do. Stainless steel. Mine’s plastic and it burns the grind so bad it tastes like cigarettes,” he turns to her as he opens a canister of grounds, “Which I, for one, am accustomed to. It seems to be the Flavor of the Week at the vast majority of America’s diners.”

She gives him a sympathetic nod, poking the small box with her pinky, “Many people find the pairing desirable.”

When he gets the lid off, he gives her an appreciative smile as he realizes the little measuring spoon is still there, buried in caffeinated dirt, “Why do coffee and cigarettes go so well together, Scully? There must be a scientific explanation for that.”

“Well, individually the flavor profiles are quite bitter, but when combined they create something smoother, more readily palatable. At a neurochemical level, both caffeine and nicotine are secondary stimulants, but nicotine in particular acts on acetylcholine receptors and promotes the release of dopamine, which can have a calming or sedating effect.” She remembers the irony of smoking in med school, how cadavers full of black lung gave her cravings, “Of course, both are also highly addictive and have extremely unpleasant withdrawal periods.”

He’s rifling through her kitchen cabinets, “Got enough mugs, Scully?”

“They came as a set,” she defends, picking up his tiny gift. She feels like fucking with him, asking him what it’s for — what the day was for. What it’s all for. He must sense her hesitation, because she hears him suck in a breath, the air whistling across his teeth. He doesn’t exhale, just holds it in. Waiting.

“You didn’t have to do this. . .” she says — and what does she mean, really? He didn’t have to take her to lunch? To the salt-encrusted Navy Yard? That he didn’t have to come here because he knew she was alone and too proud to admit so much as a whiff of disappointment? That he didn’t have to show up bearing a literal pocket-sized boon?

He sets two ceramic mugs down on her counter and turns toward her blithely. If he’s planning to call her bluff, he’s doing a damn fine job of playing it cool.

“I know I didn’t. I’m just hoping you don’t think size matters.”

She purses her lips tight around a smile and doesn’t dignify him with a response. He can see the laughter in her eyes, and it satiates him for the moment. She lowers her gaze back to the table; to his wee offering. She feels a sadness bearing down on her now that she’s somehow wrinkled the nice little unspoken understanding they had going. She’s suddenly deeply offended by herself. Always so skilled at ruining things. She can mend someone else’s errors and screw-ups, but her own are tucked up in the corner of her sock drawer like little mistake-filled mothballs.

The oddly specific and presently deafening sound of unwrapping fills the room until the coffee maker bleeps, and he turns to tend to it. He doesn’t see the way her face contorts into a heartened smile, her damp eyes sparkling under the glow of old lightbulbs. As she takes the lid off a scuffed up box, she makes a tiny sound but her throat catches it.

“ Mulder. . . ” she squeaks, his name barely more than a whisper.

“I wish I had a story to impress you with,” he says, his back still turned to her, “Y’know, something like cashing checks at every bank in the metro area until I got one, or going straight to the Mint and demanding one. . . ” he turns, nodding toward the glistening penny in her palm, “Would you believe it just happened to be in the little ashtray on my dresser where I toss loose change?

She runs the pad of her finger over the coin’s face — 1964.

“You don’t even have to chide me about spending money on ya, Scully,” he says, picking up his mug, “Only cost me a cent.”

“It’s very clever, Mulder. Thank you.” She says, turning her palm so the penny slides from her hand back into its little box.

“And now,” he says, leaning in conspiratorially, “The next time we’ve been in the car for an indeterminate length of time, headed straight into the heart of East Bumfuck , and you haven’t said a word in hours —” he taps his finger lightly on the box, “I can say ‘Penny for your thoughts, Scully?’ — and we’ll both know that I have paid in advance.”

He sits back, smiling over the rim of his coffee mug, clearly pleased with himself. He’s been working on that line all day at least, and she finds it endearing and vexing — like Missy’s answering machine etiquette.

Number 7: The Seeker. The searcher of truth.

Mulder and Missy would get along, she thinks, tipping her head as she drinks in the sight of him for a moment before reaching for her coffee instead.  

They sip in companionable silence, the night gone still around them. Her kitchen is comfortably warm from the degreasing stove, and he presses his mug against his stubbled cheek with a contented sigh.

She realizes all at once — the way you fall asleep or in love — that she doesn’t know when his birthday is.

[nique-clare]

Melbourne, Australia

18 August 2018 - 25 August 2018

Azrie and I booked a flight to Melbourne early May this year. Agreeing to go overseas together was impromptu (what could go wrong going on a trip with your best friend?) but we did plan when it came to our flights, accommodation, and places we were to visit. We intended to visit our friends who are studying there as well as to have an overseas trip together before his internship started. I’ve always wanted to study in Australia – and migrate there, if I ever have the opportunity to – but that didn’t happen of course, so travelling there was enough to make me excited. Besides, the last time I went Down Under was in 2004 and I barely have any recollection of it. I went to Gold Coast and Brisbane, I think. I only remember feeding parrots, going to the beach, and an amusement park. But I digress. Here’s what we did in Australia last week.

18 August, Saturday

We met at Changi Airport somewhere between 9 - 9.30am, and did some window shopping after we checked in and entered the transit area. We were due for take off at 11am, but our flight was delayed till about an hour later. Nonetheless, I was more than happy to be leaving Singapore. As we flew with Scoot, we had to rely on ourselves for entertainment throughout the flight. Even though I slept around 3.30am and woke up at 7am, I could barely nap on the plane. We ended up watching a couple of episodes of Elementary that I downloaded on Netflix while eating our lunch on board and sneaked in naps here and there. As I’m a sucker for nature, I couldn’t help but be mesmerised by the sunset towards the end of our flight. Here’s one of the many pictures that I took.

Once we reached Melbourne, we had a few issues with our Visas but that was quickly resolved, and we went to the pick up point to meet Chavin. It was about 7ºC outside, I think, and it was raining and windy. After what seemed like an eternity of trying to locate his car in the cold, we set off to get a late dinner and picked Gloria up. We then dropped by the Coles supermarket across his apartment to get my SIM card before walking back to enjoy our steaming hot and spicy Mala goodness. Even though we booked our own Airbnb apartment, we stayed over his place that night.

19 August, Sunday

Our initial plan was for me to attend mass in a nearby church while Azrie checked into our Airbnb before we went to Phillip Island. Unfortunately, I overslept (Sorry God) so I ended up going to our apartment with Azrie as Chavin and Gloria waited for us downstairs. We had to retrieve our key from a convenience store across the road but we went to the wrong one instead (the one beside our building’s entrance). We had to drag our luggage in the rain but on the bright side, we met a little sweetheart whom I guess belongs to one of the staff.

I didn’t take any pictures but here’s the link for our Airbnb (below’s the view from our apartment, though). It was so cozy and the view was beautiful. I wouldn’t mind staying there again when I visit Melbourne in the future. I’ll be back for sure hahaha. After unpacking our luggage, we met with Chavin and Gloria again before picking Syahmi up. We finally set off for Phillip Island around noon. We stopped by a gas station on the way, and the foodie side of me got a little excited when I saw that they had a mini bakery in the attached convenience store, as well as pre-made hot drinks (basically the powder was provided, all you had to do was pour hot water in). We were soon back on the road and reached the island approximately an hour later.

We had our lunch straightaway as we missed the pelican feeding session, and had a mini feast of fish and chips at Fisherman’s Wharf. We fed our leftovers to the seagulls and headed to the Koala Conservation Centre after dropping by the beach. Despite not being able to fulfil my dream of carrying a koala, we did get to see several of them and even managed to stand less than a mere metre away from one. Part of the centre was also closed, but we managed to see wallabies and exotic looking birds (to me at least) along the main path, so I still enjoyed myself regardless.

As we didn’t intend to spend the night on the island, we had to hurry to our next destination – the Penguin Parade. The weather became colder and slightly unbearable as the sky turned dark, but waiting for the penguins to emerge from the icy waters was worth it as we were treated to several groups of them waddling for almost a good half an hour. Some of their slightly erratic behaviours gave us a good laugh now and then, contributing to their already adorable appearances. 

We left before it became too late, and set off for our dinner location, YOMG Mornington, possibly because I asked Chavin if there were any good burger shacks around (foodie in me, once again). The eatery was in a town that seemed deserted and quiet (then again, it was already 9pm), not unlike the areas we passed through to get there. As if the darkness was not eerie enough, we listened to conspiracy theories and unsolved crimes/mysteries on the way. About YOMG Mornington, to put it simply, the food was amazing. We pretty much ate the same type of burgers (the Yo My with Cheese and the Kingsway) and shared the Chilli Cheese and Nacho Curly Fries as well. We had yogurt afterwards, which comprised a couple of unique flavours and toppings which weren’t really to my liking, but still worth trying. The ambience was also rather lovely and quaint and I wished that we could have stayed there a little while longer. The drive back to Melbourne took about an hour so we left shortly after our late dinner.

20 August, Monday – 21 August, Tuesday

The next two days were hellish, to say the least. To spare the details, Azrie and I were down with norovirus, or in other words, the winter vomiting bug. Azrie started displaying symptoms in the morning on Monday and me, on Tuesday. I either got it from him and or we got it from our lunch on Sunday (we ordered grilled fish while the rest had theirs battered – none of them fell sick). We spent both days in the apartment with nausea, stomach pains, and fever, and had to make trips to the clinic. We spent quite a bit on Uber these two days, but we were too sick to walk anywhere, except for that one trip to the ubiquitous Chemist Warehouse in a nearby town (Errol Street, I think) to get our medicine. Unlike Singapore, the clinics in Australia don’t have pharmacies attached to them. On a positive note, we managed to visit the Melbourne Observatory at night on Monday and attended a tour that lasted from 8 - 9.30pm. We were learned about the history of the site and were also fortunate to be able to view Jupiter from a large – floor to ceiling high! – telescope.

22 August, Wednesday

We were well enough to travel around on Wednesday despite our lack of appetites. We walked for half an hour to our recommended-by-Chavin lunch location, Universal Restaurant on Lygon Street. Azrie had the Chicken Parmigiana and Fried Chicken (basically meatballs) while I had the Marinara pasta. The weather was relatively warmer then so we enjoyed our lunch al fresco.

After barely finishing half of what we ordered – kudos to the norovirus – we went to the Old Melbourne Gaol, which ceased its operations in 1994. We had a slight taste of what it was like to be arrested in a tour of the City Watch House, before proceeding to the jail connected to it. I’ve always been interested in history and culture and I truly enjoyed the two hours we spent there. Though it was already closed, we walked to the Federation Square afterwards to appreciate its architecture (but stopped by the State Library of Victoria before that). We then strolled along the Yarra River beside the Federation Square.

The Winter Night Market at the Queen Victoria Market opens on Wednesday nights from 5pm - 10pm only, so we decided to have our dinner there. We rested for a while at our Airbnb after visiting the Old Melbourne Gaol before walking over to the market at 8pm. The atmosphere was surprisingly lively as there was a live band and other activities such as the silent disco and what seemed like a machine operated puppet show. There were many seemingly tantalising menus available and I wish that I had my appetite then. Azrie bought a cajun chicken and rice set and we shared a chicken skewer. After walking around a little more (and after I purchased a gorgeous pair of $35 light teal coloured crystal and tassel earrings – yes, it was worth it), we had a Nutella and peanut butter sundae. We met up with Chavin and Gloria, and Chavin came over to our apartment afterwards. We watched the endlessly nonsensical but otherwise entertaining The Interview before heading to bed. 

23 August, Thursday

As usual, we skipped breakfast and went straight for brunch instead. We ate at an Indonesian restaurant along Lygon Street (I can’t seem to find it on Google. I think it’s new). Azrie ordered rice with chicken and I had noodles with chicken, and we shared a dish of sambal kang kong. The avocado shake I ordered was sweet and refreshing. 

We walked to the National Gallery of Victoria after that. We saw a myriad of artworks in various exhibitions, and I wouldn’t mind going there again. We didn’t get to go to the Museum of Modern Art exhibition as we didn’t have much time left before meeting Chavin to get food for our barbecue dinner, but it’s definitely on my bucket list – should I ever visit New York City.

We walked to the Coles across Chavin’s after that, and dropped by the Spencer Outlet Centre en route. We didn’t buy anything as we didn’t have time, but we returned there on Saturday anyway. About the barbecue – there was smoke in his area for some reason. We waited for it to die down – and for Syahmi, Gloria, Caroline, and Natalie to arrive – and finally commenced our barbecue. We had a great night of scrumptious food, talking, and rounds of Exploding Kittens. Chavin drove us back to our Airbnb after all the fun.

24 August, Friday

Azrie, Chavin and I embarked on a day road trip to the Grampians, which took approximately three hours to reach by driving. I can’t emphasise enough how amazing Australia is, and one reason is because of our simple yet tasty lunch: two boxes of 24-piece nuggets for $10/box (!!!). I digress once again. I can’t help it, I’m a foodie. We were treated to beautiful sceneries on the way, and here’s one of the views that I captured.

As if I wasn’t already in awe of the nature that surrounded us, the Grampians took my breath away again. As I mentioned in my previous post, I don’t particularly favour cities and prefer nature instead. The Grampians was just that. We stopped by an information centre to ask for potential sites to head to, and bought ice cream before going back to Chavin’s car. Within seconds of boarding, we caught sight of a field filled with kangaroos, and of course we stopped the car. We stayed for about 15 minutes and carried on with our journey.

We decided to visit the Mackenzie Falls, Lake Wartook, and the Reeds Lookout (during sunset). No words can describe the beauty of these places, and I’m still in awe. My favourite place was Lake Wartook. We also saw an emu on the way.

We left before it got too dark and drove to our dinner location, The Red Door Pizzeria. The three of us shared two pizzas: the Authentic Peking Duck and Shredded Beef and Mushroom. Dinner, like the rest of the meals we had in the country, was absolutely delectable. We headed back after our meal after our bellies were filled. On a side note, we didn’t exactly get to go stargazing on this trip as we planned to, but we managed to get clear views of the starry night sky to and fro The Red Door Pizzeria. We picked Gloria up on the way back to our Airbnb and played a few rounds of Exploding Kittens before calling it a night.

25 August, Saturday

Our last day was spent shopping at the Direct Factory Outlets South Wharf. We checked out of our Airbnb and left our luggage at Chavin’s first thing in the morning. We took about 15 minutes to walk to the outlets after that. Before shopping, we had brunch at Citizen Cafe Bar, an eatery just outside the building. Azrie had pancakes with ice cream while I had Free Range Eggs Anyway, which was scrambled eggs on sourdough toast. I also had a bliss ball to go, which was a little snack ball coated in coconut and comprised cacao, nuts, and jam, I think. After a few hours of shopping, I got a few pieces of clothing – a Fila tank top and crop top and a Lorna Jane sports bra and mesh tights – while Azrie got a pair of Fila socks, alongside other gifts for our friends back in Singapore. On the way back to Chavin’s – yes, we walked again – we took photos at a 1970s classic photo booth. We were unprepared the first time, so we ended up taking another set of photos. We spotted a comic book store, All Star Comics, after that and popped in for a while before resuming our journey. 

That’s it for our Melbourne trip! It was really dreadful having to return to Singapore knowing that we could have visited more places if we didn’t fall sick, plus my new semester was to begin the day after touching down. Nevertheless, I had a great time in such a beautiful country with perfect company. I’m definitely going to visit Australia again, and possibly explore the other states too.