#bathtub with overflow drain

[six-of-ravens]

tfw you're watching a video about overconsumption and influencer tricks and you end up on amazon looking for something in the background of a video instead of any of the products the influencer was trying to sell

[snowsinterlude]

˚ ᜔ ࣪ ✿ ࣭ ۟ bathtub.

(corioanus snow x reader)

summary: stressed about that time of the month, your boyfriend watched you bathe in awe of the red water.

c.w: period sex, sensitivity, fertile period, p in v, oral sex (f. recieving), blood, biting, praising, overstimulation, dacryphilia, petnames (doll, princess, angel), bathtub sex, blood kink, breeding, unprotected sex, fingering, making reader taste herself.

a/n: i watched saltburn . need to get a bit out of my system . also i'm kinda of sleepy and shaky so there's probably a bunch of mistakes here

you hated being on your period. it always came when you wanted the nastiest things possible.

now, mourning for the loss of a contact you couldn't have now, you were deep into the bathtub, only your face was capable of beig seen inside of the bathtub alongside with the red water and bubbles.

your boyfriend was kneeling by your side, washing your hair with the upmost kindness as his fingers rubbed your scalp. god, you were crazy about him- you wanted him to fuck you, wanted him inside you, taking your pain away.

but you thought it was gross. and even if you adored vampires, you didn't want to see your boyfriend's pretty face being dirty and stick because of your blood.

"i still don't know why you don't wanna do it." he said, kissing your shoulder, massaging them.

"it's gross, coryo. you don't have to do it." you said, feeling shivers down your body. specially when his fingers travelled down to your breasts- gosh, you were so sensitive. your nipples seemed to wake up immediatly. "s..stop. stop, i'm not gonna let you fuck me while i'm like this."

"but it would help ease up the pain." he said, changing his pose to kiss your cleavage. now, he was at the side of the bathtub, your hair was wet, beautiful, some shampoo bubbles were dripping on the floor.

"coryo.." you pouted. you were almost giving in, he could see that, from your tear pooled eyes to your thighs rubbing together; you wanted this as much as he did.

"c'mon, doll. don't hold up. i know you want this just as much as i do." he said, taking off his shirt, getting into the bathtub with you, engulfing your nipple into his hungry mouth.

finally, he earned a moan out of you, your legs instantly spreading to him, his fingers didn't even had a hard time finding your bloody slick, you moaned while holding his hair, his fingers finding your velvet core and entering it easily.

there was something on the sounds of his fingers thrusting your bloody pussy so eagerly, something hungry on the way he mouthed your boob aggressively, biting it on his teeth as if it was a gummy bear, and still being so eagerly sweet in those bites, in those thrusts.

"cory!" you cried, hips bucking up to his fingers, breath hitching, and almost cumming. he could feel it in the way your cunt was clenching around him, that's why he pulled his fingers out of you. "hey.." you pouted.

for your surprise, his fingers were on your mouth now. the metallic, bittersweet taste of your blood was hot on your tongue, and even if you were humming on his fingers, unbelieving of what he was doing, you still sucked on his fingers, swallowing the taste of your own blood.

"coryo!" you called, brows knitted together while he smiled at you. "that was gross! ugh, for god's sake!"

"you swallowed it." he said, grinning darkly. you gulped down your saliva. "i didn't even told you to, you just did."

"i..."

"what a good girl." he chuckled, drowning into the water. the weight of both bodies made the water overflow, it flow off the bathtub, and even if you were surprised, your boyfriend drained the bathtub, and he had the nerve to pull your legs and place them on each side of his head.

you panicked, eyes wide open as you spoke "c-coryo, don't- it is a mess there, didn't you notice i'm on my period?!"

"i don't see how it affects me, princess" he said, kissing your inner thigh, stained with blood. "and, lucky for me, i'm a vampire"

he smiled devilishly. and although you found it was gross, he still managed to manipulate you into allowing it, and so, when his tongue pressed against your sensitive clit in the most delicious manner, you couldn't do anything other than squirm, moan and hold his hair.

but of course, he didn’t leave it at that. of course he had to finger you again, teasing you, passing his fingers through your slick, painting you with your blood; messily painting your blood on your cleavage, on your neck, on your boobs. like a white canvas, you slowly began gaining color.

and with his tongue tasting you, thrusting, licking, torturing you, your back arched perfectly as you held onto the bathtub, mewling his name. "c-cory! coryo!!!" you cried. "'m gonna- oh fuck!"

"i know, doll. i got you." and you came undone quickly, hands shaking, legs shaking, mouth held agape and still, your eyes shone when you saw him on top of you, blood on his chin, on his adam's apple, on his fingers. somehow, it was the prettiest sight you've ever seen. "but do you got me?"

you nodded, grinding so desperately on the bulge of his pants, so sensitive for him, throbbing and clenching, missing the bare contact you had with him. "yes, yes, i do."

this was enough of an answer for him to unbuckle his pants, wet from the way he drowned himself on that bathtub, his dick slapping at your clit, making you mewl at the sudden violence against your most sensitive parts; the way his tip teased your core was getting you to cry.

when he finally penetrated you, you felt like the pain, alongside with your ovulation, were getting into a fight; one seeing who was stronger than the other and for your own pleasure, it was your ovulation who won against the pain of the cramps.

"fuck- look at you, you're so wet" he moaned, taking your waist on his hands, holding you in your place before starting to pound inside you and god, you were so sensitible. it didn't matter anymore, when he licked your tears and kissed your lips, your legs trembled around his waist, you could feel every inch of his dick inside you, and even the slowest thrusts were making you mewl and moan around him. "god, angel, are you tighter than before?"

and you nodded. the side effect of your period was that you always felt tighter, hornier, more sensitive, more emotional; and you couldn't help but suck on his thumb as he thrusted a bit more faster and deeper inside you, kissing your temple and your lips while taking his thumb out of your lips to rub your swollen clit.

"you're so good, look at you. you're just perfect around me." he chuckled, biting your neck and squeezing your boob on his hand.

"coryo, s-slow it down, please. don't wanna c-cum yet!" you pleaded, crying from the overstimulation. you already came, a mild orgasm when he fingered you, another orgasm when he eat you out, and now that you had the sight of him on top of you, fucking you like that, you felt like you would cum just from the sight of it, specially when you looked down to see how it looked- his cock entering you so fast and yet slow, deep and good inside you.

and god! there was blood on his dick! and he didn’t even seem to care- it was like he knew about it, like he wanted more.

"i know, babe. you can cum how many times you want." he said, and you were genuinely crying from pleasure. on the other side, there was a coriolanus who thought that period sex was the prettiest form of bonding. like it was a spiritual thing-

and even when you came, being accompanied by him after a feel thrusts, cum and blood mixing together, he bathed you both and at night, he still managed to fuck you again.

he did it many times before, fucked you on your period as if it was his prize, like there was nothing better than it.

with that being said, now, he had his face buried in between your legs, sucking on your blood while you tried to work on the assignment the teachers gave you both. well, his part was done. now, his job was other;

pleasuring you and sucking the blood off you.

[lady-of-tearshed]

Solace

Eris Vanserra x Reader

(Unedited yet! Posted it by accident 😑 I didn't even realized it until @daycourtofficial reposted 🤣 I was so confused lol)

Summary: Eris comes back from a meeting exhausted. He is overwhelmed with his new role as a High Lord lately, and his mate decides to take special care of him.

Eris sighed as he came back to your shared chambers later than anticipated from an awfully boring meeting. He had still tons of work to be done with, new courtiers to hire, troops reorganization, and court finances issues to fix and analyze in more depth. He was supposed to hand back a report about analyzing these financial issues this afternoon actually, but he didn’t even have time to finish writing it. Surprisingly, his courtiers had decided to be kind enough not to bring up his missing report in his meeting this afternoon.

His ears perk up when he hears the bathtub water running from the bathroom. He quietly walks his way there, and spots you pouring bubble bath and salts into the tub. He spots two sets of matching pajamas perfectly folded on the bathroom countertop. You were running him a bath… His heart swells with guilt, feeling ashamed of being absent recently. And yet there you were… still taking care of him.

Pangs of guilt flow through the bond, you look over your shoulder to see your mate staring at you, his brows frowned in concern “I’m unworthy of you…”. His Adam's apple bobs as he tries to swallow the tick knot in his throat. 

You walk over to Eris and wrap your arms around his neck, his instinctively resting on your hips. You stare into his eyes with determination and pure honesty shining into them and say “I am to judge whether or not someone is worthy of me, and you, Eris Vanserra, I can confidently say that you are.”. 

He opens his mouth and shakes his head to complain, but you cut him off with a sweet kiss on his lips “Don’t go down that path, please.” He sighs but kisses you back gently on your forehead, breathing in your comforting scent. “Okay…”

You smile and slowly pull back to stop the faucet before the bath overflows on the tiles. Eris can’t help but stare at your curves as you undress and sink into the bath first, a content sigh falls from your lips as the warm water makes your whole body melt in delight.

“Why are you still standing there?” You tease as you look over at Eris, frozen in his contemplation. His hands were still gripping the edge of his shirt he had wanted to take off before getting distracted. He shakes his head and chuckles at his own thoughts, thinking about how his wife could take his attention away by doing literally anything. He undresses and settles himself in the bath between your legs, his back pressed against your chest. You run your wet fingers through his hair and he groans in pleasure, leaning his head back onto your shoulder. You smile and kiss the side of his face.

It has been a while since you had any kind of intimacy with Eris, he had been spending a lot of time fixing the mistakes and changing the ways of Beron’s past reign in the past few weeks. You had caught him falling asleep in his study a few times recently, he looked so drained that every time you found him asleep on his desk, you felt too bad to wake him up to selfishly have him beside you in bed. So every time, you only had placed a pillow under his head, wrapped a sheet around his shoulders, and kissed his head goodnight silently. 

When you snap out of your thoughts, you turn your head and notice that Eris’s eyes are now shut, his lips slightly parted, all of his features relaxed and his head feels heavier onto your shoulder… “You’re not falling asleep on me… are you?” you chuckle “No…no.” He whispers under his breath.

He sits up and stretches his neck, hissing slightly at the soreness caused by his constant stress, lack of sleep, and probably many other factors. 

“I still need to finish writing this report-” He almost moans when your fingers expertly start to knead his poor muscles. 

You smile and hold back a laugh at Eris' pleased sounds. His thoughts were now completely off his work and the thing he was about to say. His soreness slowly fades away as your fingers work their magic on him. 

As you keep applying just enough pressure on the sore spots on Eris's shoulders, your eyes dart to his many moles and freckles. You suddenly realize that you don’t often have the opportunity to stare at his bare back. “Beautiful…” the words fall from your lips absent-mindedly.

Your words breaking the silence confuse Eris “...What?” he asks, his voice low from the deep state of relaxation you had managed to soak him in. “I said they’re beautiful, your moles and freckles. They make me think of a starry night sky. You are exquisite, my love.”.

The blush on his face travels up all the way to his ears, and he mumbles a shy ‘you too’, too stunned to answer anything back at your sweet words. He wonders how you manage to do it, every word that comes out of your mouth is always so honest and so… poetic. 

—

The bubbles of the bath had completely melted, and the water was starting to turn cold when you both decided to get out of the bath. You had braided your damp hair before the two of you quite literally crawled your way under the soft duvet of your bed. 

Eris was gently stroking your cheek with his thumb, admiring your peaceful figure lying down in front of him. He was trying his best to heat up your ice-cold feet with his legs wrapped around yours. After years of marriage, he still couldn’t understand how your feet always seemed to be literal ice cubes. You were starting to drift to sleep when suddenly you reminded yourself of something “You know that unfinished report you were worried about earlier?”

“Yeah?”

“You finished it this afternoon.”

He furrows his eyebrows in confusion “Impossible, I was in a meeting this afternoon-” Realization hits him when he hears you scoff quietly, his eyes soften and he pulls you closer to his chest, squeezing you tightly into his arms and kissing the crown of your head. You nuzzle into his warmth, appreciating the low rumble of his chest when he speaks up quietly before you both drift to sleep. “Thank you…”

“I love you.” You whisper as you fall back asleep.

“I love you the most, my solace.” 

••••••••••••

A/N: Well, I was supposed to post it on Friday or Saturday, but here we are! 😅 Hope you like it. I barely edited it, so if you guys notice anything, please let me know 💕

[kokofromwattpad]

BUBBLE BATH TIME!!

Featuring: The overblot gang

Plot: During alchemy, you partnered yourself up with your lover, already knowing how much better they are than you in this type of stuff. By accident, a random student walking by your table knocked over the cauldron, spilling all of it's contents onto your lover. Suddenly, a large cloud of grey smoke erupted around them. Just as quick as the smoke appeared, it disappeared. On the wooden floor was a child version of your lover, sitting their with doe like eyes staring at you. Quickly, Crewel ordered you to take them back to your dorm as clean off any excess chemicals.

Cw: child! Overvlot gang x reader, fluff,

A/N: This came to me while I was in the middle of MY own bath. (it sucked by the way)

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS:

Riddle was busy occupying himself on the marble counter, sucking on his chubby little fingers like they were hard candy. You were squatting by the victorian styled bath while warm water flowed from the metal tap. Sighing as you stood up, you walked past little Riddle and opened the beige cupboard where you stored all of your towels and grabbed one at the top of the pile. You set the towel next to Riddle and went to trying to unbutton the child's clothing. You gently picked Riddle up as he grabbed onto your hair as a way to steady himself. You went down on one knee and started to slowly lower Riddle into the bathtub. Because Riddle had unintentionally let go of your hair, he started to panic. He started wiggling in your grasp, trying to get out so he could try and grab onto your hair again. You, however, being much stronger than him in this form, held him a bit farther away from you so that you could properly wash him. Slowly, you dragged the sponge that had already been squirted with body wash up and down Riddle's tiny frame. The red haired child held onto your arm for dear life, scared at what would happen if he would let go. After you rinsed all the excess soap of Riddle you pulled the stopper from the bath's drain and lifted Riddle out from the tub. Riddle whimpered at the cold air as you wrapped him up in the fluffiest towel you had. His chubby cheeks expanded when he brightly smiled at you.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR:

Leona's tail shifted angrily in the air as you placed him on the bathroom ground. He started to angrily babble at your minor negligence as you filled the bathtub with warm water to give the small beastman a cleaning. Leona shifted onto his knees and started to crawl to your calf. He grabbed onto your pant leg and used it as leverage to hoist himself up on his chubby feet. Once the child gained his balance he started to babble madly, trying to regain your attention. Finally, after what Leona felt where years, you picked him up and placed him on the basin counter. You undressed the child from his clothes and neatly folded it on the side. You then went to pick Leona up walked over to the bath. Ever-so-slowly, you began to lower him into the filled bathtub. Now, Leona technically being a cat, he did not like this. He started flailing aggressively, trying to get out of your gentle grasp and escape, but you kept him in your hold and continued to lower him. Once his body entered the tub, he relaxed. He stopped squirming and just stared at his reflection as you cleaned all the gunk from his body and hair.

AZUL ASHENGROTTO:

Eight sticky tentacles spread out like a clock as Azul's big, round eyes stared curiously at you. The octo-mer sat in the overflowing sink, caused by your worry that he may dry up at any second. While you grabbed some towels from your room, Azul babbled loudly about who knows what. Entering the bathroom again, you set the towels on the closed toilet lid and stepped cautiously towards the child version of your boyfriend. You reach your arms out, going to grab him out of the sink, when suddenly, four of Azul's tentacles latch onto your arms. You try to pull the limbs off of you, but just makes Azul whine. Begrudgingly, you let the boy wrap all his tentacles on your arms. You streached your arms out as far away as you can from your face. Azul's eyes start to sparkle when he is placed into the bathtub full of water. He happily swims around the edge of the bath and does a few happy spins to show his appreciation towards you. Gently, you bring the damp cloth over to his human half and start to slowly wipe him down from the left over potion. The boy grabs onto his round stomach, indicating that he was getting hungry after the short time of his swimming session.

JAMIL VIPER:

Jamil had a calm and collected look, even as a child. Somehow, Kalim had caught word of what happened to his friend and had rushed over to make sure that he was okay. Kalim retells stories of his and Jamil's childhood while you prepare and extra set of clothes for the newly turned child. Kalim sighs and walks over to where Jamil was waiting for you and started to gently pinch and the boy's soft cheeks. He then squeals loudly, alerting you. You run over to the two Scarabia students, only to see Kalim squeezing Jamil's cheeks while the said boy looks at Kailm with the most pissed off look that he could give. You pull Kalim off Jamil, sit the vice-housewarden onto your hip and walk back to the bathroom, with the white haired boy tailing after you. The bathtub was filled with fluffy bubbles. Kalim rolled his sleeves up in preparation while you sat the young boy in the shallow water. When Kalim tried to bring a sponge to Jamil's body, the boy flung water right at the housewarden as a warning not to touch him. Kalim just started to laugh at the other boy's action and just ignored him as he guided the sponge all over Jamil's small body.

VIL SCHOENHEIT:

The younger Vil had started to whine while you were walking to Ramshakle as a sign for you to hurry the hell up since he was starting to smell. As soon as you entered the bathroom, Vil's whining had stopped immediately. You placed him on the counter top to prepare some towels for him. As you were doing that, Vil tried to get dressed by himself. However, because of his newly acquired chubby and inexperienced hands, in was quite a challenge to get his shirt off and he was starting to get pissed. Small, clear tears rose from the ends of his eyes and rolled gently down his chubby cheeks. When you finally got the best towels you had on hand, you noticed the soft sniffling coming from the little model. You rushed over to the boy, cooing praises of how difficult it must be because of his shrunken body. You wiped the tears away from his eyes and then gently unbuttoned his small white shirt. Vil was a very happy child after he got all the remnants of the catastrophe off his body.

IDIA SHROUD:

Idia was quite a sensitive child. He always looked like he was about to cry at any second and that just made your heart twist a little. You held him extremely close to your chest as ran all the way to Ramshackle, as to make sure that nobody saw your boyfriend-turned-child. You blew out a breath you didn't now you were holding in when you finally entered the safety of your dorm. Idia was clutching extremely tight onto your school shirt as he hid his face into your chest. While walking up the stairs, you wonder if Idia's hair would go out if it was put under water. You however found out that it, in fact, not go out. Idia looked like he was close to balling his eyes out every time you walked away from the tub to fetch something. But when Grim finally walked into the bathroom, the little boy smiled a bright toothy grin while reaching his arms out as if he was reaching for a trophy. When Grim finally left you and the baby alone, Idia started crying crocodile tears and wailing out, "Kitty! Kitty!"

MALLEUS DRACONIA:

While you and the now smaller version of your boyfriend were still in the classroom, someone had ran out to call Malleus's guards and Lilia. The former general was laughing hysterically at the situation you were thrown in, Silver was rocking the slime covered baby and Sebek was screaming loudly at you, saying how its your fault that his young master was turned into a baby and how his reputation is going to ruined because of you. Malleus was starting to tear up from Sebek's harsh words. Lilia noticed this and tried to console the little boy, but that just made Malleus whine loudly. When Sebek had finally finished his screaming session, he turned to Malleus and picked him up as to give him a proper scrubbing, when the prince turned his head angrily away from the half-fae. Sebek's face fell from it's prideful expression and silently moved away from the baby. When Malleus turned his head back in your direction, he pulled his arms in front of him and started making grabby hands towards you. You obliged and held the sticky baby in your arms as he giggled loudly at your action. And so, with the supervision of Lilia, you washed the prince all teh way from his horns to his chubby toes.

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

[writingmochi]

cast: trainee!niki ✗ seatmate!fem.reader (ft. &team's taki (takayama riki), p1harmony's soul (haku shota), niziu's nina (makino nina), and xg's cocona (akiyama kokona))

synopsis: graduation is such a melancholic concept, happy to finally be able to escape school, but sad that people will separate to their own road. it is no different for riki. on his graduation day, he spends one last day with his seatmate of three years before he pursues his career across the sea

genre: melancholia, hurt/comfort, coming of age, slice of life, trainee au, high school au, fluff, angst

based on: music hindia's "besok mungkin kita sampai" (2019) (genre: indie pop)

word count: 13011 (13k)

warning(s): blood, some curse words, mention of bruises, pretty heavy life stuff even for a high school age

message to the moon: remember that this story is fiction and do be careful and read the warnings at the top. all the idols mentioned here are not what they are in real life. (y/f/n) = your full name!

i had to open up my japan 2020 trip memories to remember the whole atmosphere + adding a bit of my knowledge and experiences too. i have to post this in april since it is the right momentum for it and riki’s graduating class is THIS YEAR! i wanna thank @oiwxa for her insight into a japanese high school graduation and its rituals (especially since you rb the og riki as a regular hs student hc like that is very useful) and my friends who indulge in japanese culture for helping with additional insights :D this is also part of my milestone now closed collab "discover: 200" which you can check out! hope you enjoy!

masterlist

what does one think about when they hear the word “foam”?

a child will imagine a white porcelain bathtub, the one they are sitting in with most of their seated body underneath the water that fills from the bottom of the tub. bubbles made from the mix of the running water and the poured liquid soap to create a magical concoction of science. more and more fill the tub until it overflows and splashes outside, landing on the tiled floor. one can pick up childish giggles as the bubbles caress the skin before it pops, creating a ring of soap on the skin nearest to it. one could imagine their parent beside them following their giggles, helping wash them up after playing in a grassy park and falling on the dirt patch chasing a squirrel. but the child was having too much fun trying to make their hair stand up from their scalp to care about the suds that clean away the dust and soil.

a person who visits a beach will be reminded of the white foam that flows to the coast, pushed by the tides to escape the blue waters. froths created from the combination of nature’s rhythm on the breaking of seawater and dissolving salt or tiny planktons. one can walk to the edge where the land meets the sea and meet the foams by themselves, letting their leg submerged into the wet sand before the incoming wave tries to push you away with its natural force. the water tickles above the ankle as foam created from the physics of it before receding into the ocean along with more grains of sand. the image of it pairs with the familiar crunchy sound of the waves that instantly show up in the head and from the popping of the tiny bubbles.

for riki, it was both of them and one more.

his hand is full of white fluffy foam. the boy's eyes stare at it before turning to the mirror in front of him. he sees the visual of a makeshift white full beard made from the tiny bubbles on the surface of his skin, all of them spread out to the jaw, cheeks, and even around the top of his neck, making him look like a younger version of father christmas if he ever goes to meet the children in spring—a season too late for the tradition and years too old for him as he knew about the truth of his parents being the “mythical man” that gave him gifts by the bed. the boy opens the tap.

the water runs down and cleans his hands, letting the residue drain down the hole before he picks up the item that he’s been learning and still is learning to adapt to at his age. the shaving razor he had that is in the same color as his toothbrush.

the razor glints under the lights beside the mirror. his hand grips its handle, following the steps his father had taught him. the older man told his child that facial hair grows in different ways depending on where they’re located, and how he has to shave it the other way for the most efficient result.

“if it’s on the cheek, then you have to shave it diagonally downwards to the corner of the lips. if it’s above the upper lip, then you have to shave it outwards from beneath both nostrils.”

riki recollects the words accurately as he imagines the visual vividly. how he can see himself in the mirror as his father when the boy remembers he stood beside him, a razor in his own hands as he teaches his son how to shave the facial hair he might not want to own—right in front of the same mirror he stood across now.

shaving your own facial hair seems to be a rite of passage for a boy who is nearing the end of his puberty days. their growing plates are still growing as riki still remembers how he was slightly shorter than his father when he was taught his first lesson in shaving facial hair. now he is taller than his father, either from how many times he has to jump along with the moves of a choreography or run along with a rolling ball on a grassy field.

riki can definitely feel and see the difference. his lanky body now shows more prominent muscles from the physical activities he does, notably his bigger calves from moving on his feet so much. the baby fat on his face has burned enough that his bone structure sticks out as he notices the apples of his cheekbone protruding on his facial features. his voice also deepens as he can still remember how itchy it is, dropping step by step until he can perceive the vibration of his neck’s skin from the moving larynx; a voice that screams baritone or bass, even reaching vocal fry level if he wants to learn the technique.

all of that happens in the three years of high school. if middle school him could witness him now, he wouldn’t believe that that is what he’s going to look like. so many things happened in the past three years that month by month—even day by day—he can feel himself changing physically and mentally.

and today, his three-year journey in high school ends. his graduation day from being a high school student. also, his last day home before pursuing his dream in seoul, south korea.

riki has always been an active kid, but there are two constants throughout his activities in his 18 years on earth: soccer and dancing. one may look at both of them differently, but he has always found a resemblance between the two. the agility of dancing helps control the ball if it’s in his possession. the stamina training he had done to run from one side of the field to another helped him practice longer, thus making him learn the choreographies faster than the other kids.

his hopes and dreams are tied between the two of them. he even wants to continue it to his adult. many of the kids were always asked “what you’ll be when you grow up?” and their answers will be different years later. yet, riki’s stayed the same. always between the two of them.

but he has to choose one to pursue even further, to focus on even in the hardest times he might get in his life.

after seeing korean idols on stage performing in front of thousands of people, he chose to dance. he wants to be like them one day.

yet, that doesn’t mean he’ll let go of soccer that easily.

soccer is still there for riki as a hobby. but he decides to push his dream of being a soccer player behind to train more for his dancing: learning between the street dances and contemporary ones he is still lacking in, yet determined to improve on. it sacrificed him hours of rest time to nail each of the basics in each study, peaking his figure to one of an all-rounder dancer who learned multiple branches of the certain performing arts.

his fruit of labor comes at the right time and moment when he joins an open audition for a big label in south korea that is hosted near here. riki rubs his hand on his pants as he sees a tv playing in the waiting room of a live performance he watched with his own eyes. his figure between all the visible moving lightsticks that decorated the arena, resembling a starry night. they all gave their best to show their craft on stage where people had encouraged them so much to achieve their dreams until that level. it tugs little riki so hard on his heartstrings that he can’t think of his other activities that can bring him the same sense of joy and pride at the same time. soccer seems to be the nearest one but what if he falls out of love and wants to retire early? being a performer means he could also explore other avenues of performing arts if he wants to experiment. though there is a school for it, art is the outlet for human creativity. and each person has their own way of interpreting what they want.

the audition process was nerve-wracking for him; fear flew and crowded the room as riki saw the people he had to compete with. getting tunnel vision from his anxious self, all he could think about when seeing them was how better they were compared to himself. even the lone camera on a tripod makes him nervous as he knows the implications of the recordings being sent to the highest of the higher-ups who have the choice to make his life change forever. as the person before him steps aside, he takes their place and introduces himself like what he practiced. the words flowing out of his mouth smoothly before he let his mind back to when he was alone in the dance studio he called his second home: his actual home is the first and the school’s soccer field is his third.

the fluidity of his body lets him perform the routine he practiced countless times, a routine he trained with his dancing coach that highlights his greatest strengths in performing arts. riki feels how his eyes droop down, letting his movements and muscle memories do the work for him, something he allows as he has been practicing with the lights out.

“when you lose one of your senses, another sense grows to complement it,” his coach reminded him.

riki didn’t even break a sweat when he listened to the unfamiliar song. he just freestyle danced to the rhythm as best as he could to the song he used as a lesson. one has a faster bpm than the other, so he has to adapt with how many milliseconds he has to let his arm stay in the air. in his consciousness, he is confused as to why none of the judges stopped him like the other contestants. many of them were better but stopped earlier that they didn’t even reach the end of the choruses for songs, making his eyes tremble more behind his eyelids. yet, he continued until something stopped him. well, the music does as it fades away.

the process was rigorous when he had to sing and do body shots in another room—alone from the other contestants with people he assumes are higher in the recruitment process. when the papers of the contracts were placed in front of riki, he was halfway through his high school career. a contract to be a trainee in south korea, the place where the performers he saw reside. the headquarters of the leading asian pop culture in the world. riki has to be there to feel it himself.

he had his mom beside him as she read through the contract, a small smile on her face as she tried to understand the best of the contract with the formal and legal lingo that is used alongside the translator they hire for this and her family member who is a lawyer. he had already met up with the trainers before—the judges he auditioned to and more through video calls—and they agreed that riki has the potential to be something more.

he signed the paper that seals the next chapter of his life, agreeing to move to korea when high school ends.

riki returns to the mirror when his hand is unconsciously shaving the foamy area; following a set routine of the parts he has to shave and what section is next. that’s when he sees the thin foam turn pink. eyebrows raised, the sting comes too late as the soapy substance meets his open wound. he instantly flipped the tap open and cupped the water in his palms, brushing the soap substance away as fast as he could, gritting his teeth when he felt the cold liquid caressing his skin. blood flows along with the water as he smoothes the skin down, not recognizing any more slippery base substance when he gently dries his wet area. turning his face, he sees the long thin slit on his clean cheek, right under his cheekbone and going horizontal above the jawline, almost like a secondary of it. the razor he holds is placed under the running water when he sees the translucent crimson color flow down the drain hole.

placing the razor away, he opens the cabinet door for the first aid kit he had always picked up. being such an active kid doesn’t mean that he is immune to injuries. open or close wounded, he has scars of his injuries all around his body. the nasty scar on his right kneecap from when he tripped on himself while playing soccer on an asphalt road, bruises on his forearm from when he slammed himself too hard on the dance studio’s floor, and many more. he once feared that red color flowing on his skin layer, but seeing it so much and its purple-ish-blue companion, he throws that fear away and lets it sink into the ocean that is just a walking distance from his abode.

the first aid kit is filled with the most essential items riki uses to heal himself. his mom always told him to treat his injuries as soon as possible so no nasty virus or bacteria could infiltrate the atoms that encompass his functioning body and destroy it from the inside. and make him worse instead. he always thought the scars he got litter on his skin would disappear one day. time goes on as it denies his assumption. he learned this from biology class where the teacher mentions that the cell tissues of skin cannot get rid of scars because the injuries are being repaired by the same cells that create a scar. the cells in those areas are ever-healing; never going to stop healing because it has been injured before.

another scar to tell, i guess. he sighs as he dabs the wound with the red-brownish antiseptic on cotton all along the opening before he grabs the bandage and sticks it on the wound. pressing it down gently, the bandage nearly blends in with his skin color as it creates an abnormal diagonal patch on his somewhat clean yet acne-scar-filled skin. a minor bump rising because of the white pad on the sticky side. brushing his black hair away from its place that fallen on his forehead, he closes the distinct naruto-themed bag of his first aid kit and brings it to his room.

the navy graphic t-shirt he wore has droplets from the water but not of the blood from the small rectangle mirror sticking on his wall. on his bed lays the final piece of his gakuran as he picks up the suit jacket. riki pushes the golden buttons through the holes in an order, leaving the last button open right at the top so that he looks cooler—and so that he doesn’t get easily choked. his eyes scan his nearly clean room where items are still cluttered here and there. that is until he sees the large suitcase at the leg part of his bed. all the clothes and essentials he has packed to be used in korea are already in there. his flight is tomorrow morning; flying from haneda airport. the open duffel bag of his is still on his bed as he puts the naruto-themed first aid kit inside.

“riki!”

“yes?” his hand on his chest from the surprise calling of his name passing by the barrier of the wall.

“we have to go. we don’t want to be late.” his mom’s voice calls from outside the room. the boy lets the bag rest on the mattress before he picks up his trusty backpack and saunters to the door of his room and opens it, seeing his mom cleaning the dishes and dad slurping on a cup of ramen on the small dining table after leaning almost half of his body. both of them are in an outfit he isn’t used to seeing. only in times of graduations, weddings, or funerals.

“i made one for you.” riki followed his mom’s eyesight to the steaming cup of ramen across from his dad. “your sister has left for school earlier, but you don’t want to be late for your assembly.”

the boy’s long legs reach the seat where the cup of ramen is. its familiar smell enters riki’s senses as he picks up the folding plastic fork and scrumptiously enjoys the hot noodles. he felt the tangled noodle warming up his esophagus while his dad was pouring a glass of water from the pitcher on the table. as riki looked at his dad, he could see himself in him. his dad’s feline-like eyes—combined with his mom’s—make riki’s signature aggressive-looking eyes, like a leopard ready to pounce on its prey. his sisters are also like him but softer as how biology designs feminine features. but, all of them didn’t expect riki’s growth to spurt as he entered high school. he definitely thanked his genetics but also the nutritious homemade food mom made for him full of the omega-3 of fish and the glutinous yet small grains of cooked white rice.

the sunlight enters through the window of the dining and kitchen area where he sees a small garden that is full of little plants and flowers. the beam highlights the light brown of the wood from the last time his family renovated the house fully. small, quaint, yet architecturally smart; with hidden compartments for storage and changing furniture. he can describe his newly renovated home as one of the best things japanese architecture offers. his father learns so much about architectural innovation from watching renovation shows while his mom has the say in interior designing—picking the type of wood to use, placement of the furniture, and others. his new room became his favorite place in the world, with the floor-to-ceiling cabinet and wardrobe combo to put his childhood things he couldn’t bear to let go. though small, he’ll miss his room and the window that overlooks the small one-lane road filled with houses of neighbors he knows.

his nimble fingers expertly pick up the narutomaki along with the noodles from his seafood cup noodles with his chopsticks. the orange-reddish broth colors the inside of the cup as he stares at his phone, scrolling down the news of his favorite player transferring teams—a player exchange that costs millions of US dollars, a japanese player. the player was pretty new for his time, but riki can relate to him so much as the player enters such a big league at such a young age. in a way, riki lives his soccer player dreams vicariously through him. now, as he sees the familiar name transferring from playing in the Premier League to La Liga, his lips pursed as he can imagine the player playing in matches with the likes of many of the skilled players he idolizes in his life.

cupping the cup, he drinks the remaining broth as it warms his stomach, accidentally burping as his dad lets out a giggle in front of him. both of them wait for mom as she finishes up and walks to the shoe cabinet. riki picks up his beaten shoes—his favorite shoes since he bought them in his first year of high school. he remembers how his father agreed to pay him for the pair of shoes before realizing that it’s too big for his feet. yet now, his feet are grown to match their sizes, making them fit him perfectly. he uses those shoes all the time, especially for dancing and soccer. he wore the exact same pair of shoes when he auditioned. but now, he looked at its battered shape with seams ripping from the sole. nevertheless, he wore it to celebrate his and his shoes’ journey every day from when he went to school and the dance studio. riki rather see these shoes break because of his activities than never use them all because of their fragile state.

something he also has to let go like the life he has here to continue to live.

-

climbing up the last stair to the train platform, riki could see the coastline of the beach that is a five-minute walk from where he is. there’s a chugging sound of the moving train from the rails behind him going in the opposite direction of where he will go. behind the curtains of the three and more story high-rises, he can see the light yellow patch of the beach before gliding his eyes to a long grey platform of the small harbour. even with the distance, he can hear the sound of the crashing wave meeting the land. his eyes slowly relax as he stares at the neighborhood and city he calls home and the ocean in its background. the ultramarine spectrum healing his vision along with the lightly cloudy sky as specks of black dots are far at the edge of the horizon. the fishermen fishing for the catches to then be served in the most fresh condition possible in a large franchise sushi restaurant of a small mom-and-pop sashimi booth. the small taste of saltiness in the air because of how close he is to the source.

even with the small islands in his view, he still couldn’t believe that the body of water he was seeing was leading to the largest ocean on this blue rock. how the nearest landmass from japan is the united states with hawaii placed near the middle of the pacific. it always blew his mind whenever he realized how big the world is when he always saw the scaled-down version of it in a map app. he didn’t realize how big japan is when he realize that sapporo is near russia and the western and southern parts of okinawa is nearing taiwan or the phillipines. maybe, the vastness of the unknown world beside his city, the cities he visited, and the little buildings where people he knows do their activities is the one making him rub his palm on his pants so much.

the walk to the train station was short as he viewed people living their lives behind his parents’ footsteps on the clean sidewalk. entrances to office buildings opening one by one, the large signages of buildings that house pachinko machines stay idle as the mini convenience store below it shuts much of its fluorescent light after leaving it on for the night, and sparse numbers of motor vehicles running down the two-lane streets as bicycles are being dominated by workers. riki also found kids his age roaming the sidewalk to their nearest school. some of them wearing their uniforms just fine, while others were still shivering from the leftover winter wind—wearing puffy jackets to conceal them. he could recognize students from the neighboring schools just from the uniforms they were, some wore gakurans but others also used a more modern prep school uniform he has seen looking like the korean ones he found on the internet.

the sound of the distinct train station melody flies through the air as he watches the chugging commuter train on its way to the platform. his head stands out of the crowd as his height helps with easier detection when he identifies the small sliver of color that corresponds with the train line it is. from the outside, he catches a faded reflection of himself with a few people inside; people wearing masks to cover themselves from the flu because of pollen and the cold while others let their faces open as they can smell and inhale the clean spring air. the white LED lights illuminate the train car as he steps in—ducking his head cause he feels like he could slam into something hanging on the ceiling anytime. he turns to stare at himself from the glass’ reflection, how the corner of his mouth turn a bit downwards, which created a slightly intimidating frown. riki knows about what his friends call his resting bitch face, so he mostly gives a small thin smile after wetting his lips, which he did when he notices it on the reflection. his fingertips rubbing against each other to warm himself up before touching the backpack that is hanging by the straps to keep it safe in his arms.

the train is chugging down on the rail as the view outside moves with relativity. riki sees the familiar passing billboards he has seen time to time, changing its every advertisement from new ramen flavors to new animation movies to new j-pop album releases. yet the distinct enormous billboard hangs near a pedestrian crossing of a larger station that he always goes by. people walking about to their destination as the melody sounds every time the train stops at the station, spoken in both english and his native japanese. riki’s being is alert as the sound calls the name of the station near his school, eyes looking at the screen on top of the door as the train stops at another elevated station. the boy could sense how the train wobbled beneath him as he and the others stepped out of the cart. tapping his card at the gate, riki strides along the familiar pavements towards school.

approaching the building complex that has housed him for three years, riki sees the recognizable sailor uniform the girls wears—the same uniform hung outside of his room for his little sister to bring into her room—as he steps forward with every step. calls of names are spoken between one another as he walks closer, some are calling his name which he gives different greetings while others are gathered with each of their friends. in a cautious state of mind, his eyes scoured around to see the groups of parents crowding around their children; some stood up like skyscrapers compared to them. he sensed the bandage on his skin a bit heavier than before when he turned to face his dad, who was staring at him. mom is out of his sight as he watches his father’s hand caressing his injured cheek.

“from shaving…” riki replies after letting out a light hiss, widening his eyes so he wouldn’t turn away. his dad lets out a small giggle as he pats his cheek, making riki actually retreat and copying him with his own giggles. the smell of the distinct flowers and leaves crowds around him as the sakura petals fall down on the paved road of the school that is surrounded by cherry blossom trees. but different flower species are also showing up in the number of bouquets the graduating class has on their hands. the sakura pinks being the background contrast with the whites and yellows in the bouquets. that is when he found a single person who has purple flowers in their bouquet. lifting his head to see the owner’s, the corners of his lips rise just from identifying the familiar face.

you are clutching the ends of the bouquet your parents have surprised you with. your own backpack hangs on your shoulders as you hug your father, seeing a little red panda wearing a graduation cap on the top as your mother asks one of the parents to help capture the picture. posing in between your parents, you let out a wide smile as you hear the familiar clicking sound a few times before you drop from your tippy toes—something you always unconsciously do when taking a picture. you admire the way the white and purple flowers makes the bouquet looks grand yet still screams you—purple has always been and will be your primary color.

seeing the bouquet and the many students makes you wonder if your friends are here or not. you raise your head and chin up, curiously looking at the stream of students and parents gathering at the front of the gate and school buildings before the graduation ceremony begins. that’s when you see the familiar tall boy who was always sleeping on the table beside yours whenever both of you were in class.

“riki-chan.”

he can follow your mouth’s movement, grinning when he picks up even a small sample of your voice on the other side of where he is. your voice calls to him like a siren as he takes one step forward. that is when he felt a hand slapping his back as riki could already guess who it might be.

“shota! i almost choke.”

riki hears shota’s infamous giggle as he turns around, finding him with his eye smile as he wraps his arm behind the boy’s back, “come on, niki. don’t be so serious. we’re graduating today.”

“i know,” he replied. he wanted to return to your presence once again when he let his eyes squint and something flinch to grow on his lips. riki watches his father approaching him with his mother as he takes a peek at the yellow-flower-full bouquet she is holding, knowing that it will be for him as he sees his parents trying to conceal it—even though they failed by how flustered they are to see their son already has his eyes on them.

“ta-da!” his parents proclaimed as he saw the bouquet in close detail, seeing a few white petals scattering the bouquet as the yellow slowly became softer in his eyes. creating a more pastel yellow than the ones that shock his eyes with how bright the yellow is.

“thank you, mom and dad,” he replies as he carefully picks up the bouquet and cradles it in his arms. his father greets shota as he asks the boy questions on where his parents are while his mother finally notices the bandage on his cheek, hearing her clicking her tongue as she tries not to laugh at how clumsy her son was.

shota helped in taking photos for the family, even though his sister is there but it was so hard to reach her when she was already with her friends. he glances at the clock on top of his screen after seeing his chat with his younger sister when he realizes it’s almost time for the graduation ceremony. riki reminds his parents of where the parents will gather as he slowly places the bouquet under the care of his mother. waving and saying a “see you later”, he and shota go to the crowd where the graduating students are—dividing into each class crowd as he is letting the memories of the graduation ceremony replay in his mind from the rehearsals..

shota greeted most of the class students as riki stayed behind, letting the guy feel the fame once more as he couldn’t help but grin at seeing another boy in their usual circle of six—walking towards them with his own grin on his face.

“taki-chan.” riki calls for taki as he did their bro hug. his hand playfully ruffled his dyed locks as he commented, “you’ve already bleached your hair?”

“yes, let’s just say that it’s my graduation gift from my parents. i have to look stylish when i moved to germany for university. how about you, niki? why do you even have a bandage on your face?” taki playfully poked riki’s face as he turned his head, wanting to bite the finger like it was a clawing game for making him sense the reminder of the pain of the cut skin.

his circle of six has two rikis in them. so, to differentiate them, they use their first syllable from the last name as their new nickname during their high school: creating the unstoppable taki-niki duo. taki is also part of riki’s dance studio, but he’s doing it more as a hobby than a career like what riki is doing. shota, on the other hand, frequents the arcade during their high school times. in the nearest arcade from school, he has a high score in playing the arcade’s taiko no tatsujin; even having a pair of specialty gloves he said could help with the grip of the drumsticks. his love for rhythm gaming also shows in school when shota showed riki his device when he plays osu!—the game that successfully gets taki actually after he is numb to it by dancing to hip-hop and b-boying.

“there you guys are!”

the three boys all glanced to the side to find the three girls had completed their circle of six. kokona stands in the middle as he catches her pouting face with her hands on her waist; one part of her hair is already highlighted and even riki can notice she is wearing a slight faint of eyeliner on her eyes. beside her, he sees you with your wide eyes-small smile combo, and nina who is playing something on her phone.

kokona is the musician of the group—"a born-to-be musician" as she likes to call it—as riki has always found her making lyrics upon lyrics, from the most poem-like to outward disses as he knows she can beat him in a rap battle if he wants to. nina is the brains of the group. having mixed parents like shota makes her able to speak in four different languages, but she is also academically smart as she is always representing the school for a social science olympiad and she spearheaded the economics club in school. and, you. you are the artist of the group. every time riki meets you in class, you always have a manga on one side and your sketchbook on the other as you try to read and draw at the same time, making the characters in the manga you are reading on the sketchbook in your own art style.

riki is lucky to have his circle to be as creatively well-versed and supporting each other’s endeavors. they were the first ones to know that riki is now a trainee for a label in south korea. and they couldn’t have been more proud as shota even gifted him his old korean language 101 books for him to start his language learning early; even adding a few korean terms the boy learned from his mother as riki tried to familiarize himself with them.

his homeroom teacher, mister terada, reminds them to stand in line according to their last names instead of seatmates, making all six of you scattered as riki stands with a boy in front of him and a girl behind him. he could hear the coordinator’s voice slowly letting the classes in one by one into the hall where he has seen his parents are in—seating at the bleachers at the top that are lining around the open middle area. riki could sense his legs being numbed as he didn’t know how long he had to stand up when he felt your touch on his wrist as your line was beside his, holding him up as you let out a pout. when it’s his time to enter the hall, he basks in the large space to see the parents sitting in the bleachers surrounding the students. said students all sit at their assigned seats from the rehearsals as riki recalls his path when he'll be walking to the stage to get his diploma.

the assembly finally started and both the boy and girl beside him started to chuckle when he had to cover his mouth to let out a huge yawn. the tiredness of packing his stuff for his later flight last night got into him as he just wanted to be his class’ turn so he could get his diploma and maybe take a few minutes of a power nap. he could hear nina asking for him a few seats away, watching her discreetly pushing her hand out. he reached his own as he felt something on his curled palm. opening it up, he found a small wrapped mint candy that he recognized as a staple of nina's as their “awake pill”. the spicy mint taste makes his nerves alive and aware as he sees the first few classes already getting their diplomas. he had to remind himself of all the rehearsals he had done after the exam for the past two weeks—the correct place to stand while waiting in the line, the etiquette and who to shake hands with, and where you pose for your graduation photo.

riki graciously stands up and stretches his tired body from sitting too long as he walks to the path he had track with his eyes and is currently in the line awaiting his turn. he spots kokona already sitting down with her diploma and also shota who is walking to sit down on his seat. step by step as more and more names are being called, he is now one step away from the short flight of stairs to getting his diploma.

“nishimura riki.”

his name is called as he puts out a smile he has been learning while walking across the stage, bowing deep and shaking the hand of the principal before meeting mister terada who he gives another bow to before he receives the diploma with both of his hands. he turns towards the end of the stage and poses for the camera at the end before sitting down, looking up at the bleachers as he can catch his parents’ voices, cheering for him.

yet, for him. finally, it was time to get a nap as he awaited the last homeroom of his high school career.

-

thud.

thud.

thud.

that’s what riki picked up before he leaned down to grab his usual drink from the vending machine’s slot at the bottom. his backpack has been placed once again on his back after he met up with his parents when the assembly was done. he really had a pretty good nap before the boy beside him shook him to wake up when the ceremony comes to an end with the last hurrah from his juniors—seeing his younger sister too as riki chuckles when they both catch each other’s eyes. too many people were crowding the floor when the mc said it was over over, but he knew he will reunite with his friends once again after fulfilling the parchedness of his esophagus.

straightening his back, he felt the weight of the bouquet fall down and rested on the bottom of his bag alongside his diploma as he awaited for the final things to do here: cleaning up his shoe locker and one last meeting with the homeroom teacher about his career sheet. his parents had long gone home and he had already done the nearly complete family photo with his younger sister. riki glanced at the view behind him as he saw a few kids playing soccer in their 30-minute recess time—he could see himself in them as he either helped in attacking towards the goal or defending it against his friends. 30 minutes that seemed like a lifetime when he was there to feel it himself now appears so short as he sees it from an outsider’s perspective.

“boo!”

riki turns around in a whiplash, almost spilling his drink from the bottle before he pauses and calms himself to stare at you. your purple backpack sways alongside your own movement as you laughed—even making you nearly folded yourself to get a grip on your knees because he was too funny. your laughter dies down as flip your backpack around to put your diploma inside the main pocket.

“thought you’d be here,” you mumbled, pulling out your wallet from the bag as you approached the vending machine. the backpack hangs only on one shoulder as you plunge the coins in and press the button of the drink you want.

“you always get a drink when you’re sleepy.” you then added, making riki chuckle.

it’s a habit of his he had always overlooked but, somehow, you remember. once in class, he had been taking a huge nap during japanese history class as he let the thick textbook cover him. he had a very late practice session for a choreography because he hadn’t nailed each move—maybe because it was near the exam time or whatnot. yet, no one seems to wake him until the end of the period. lifting his head up groggily, he looks at his classmates who are eating or talking with each other. that shock coming from him made the thick book fall as he heard a snicker coming from one of the crowd. riki sheepishly smiled as he wanted to crouch down to grab the book when he finally noticed the light-colored soda on the edge between his and your desk. the brand is his favorite, yet he thought it might be yours. but with the way the bottle sits behind the line between yours and his desk, he knew that it must be for him as he unconsciously swallowed his saliva; picking up and cracking the bottle lid open as he sipped the soda before going to his usual hangout place with the rest of the six.

he picks up the familiar set of thuds as you lean down and grab your purchase—the same brand yet different flavors. he watches you as you playfully shake the bottle, seeing the foam forming from the chemical reaction as he remembers what you say: “i like the soda fizzy.” but it is also like you that you are not careful when you open the bottle, seeing the pastel-colored foam flowing out of the cracks and landed on the pavement before you instantly gulp nearly a third of the bottle.

you let out a huge aahhhhh as you felt the coldness of the soda trailing down into your stomach, looking behind the color-glazed bottle to catch riki with a small smile on his face, but no movement in his eyes, gazing at you—making blood flow towards your cheek.

“hello? riki-chan?” you waved your sticky soda-stained hands in front of riki’s face before he seemed to snap out of it. that’s when you finally notice the little bandage on his cheek, spread wide right underneath his eye and cheekbone.

“what happened?” you softly poke your finger against the bandage, making riki back off as he looks away, eyes moving so rapidly before he lets out a small smirk.

“pressed my shaving razor too hard. it bleeds, so… yeah. gotta have to be reminded of that whenever i see my graduation picture now,” he told you in such a nonchalant manner, making you let out your own chuckle.

“you look like those bad boys i’ve seen on high school animations… you just need your lollipop and done!” you tuck the closed soda bottle beneath your armpit right after you say that.

“aren’t i a bad boy, though?” he raised his eyebrows, mimicking those bad boys you described by poking the tip of his tongue towards the inside wall of his cheek—as if there is a lollipop there.

you scoffed, “you? nishimura riki? a bad boy? bah…”

laughter falls out of you because you can’t seem to see him in the bad boy role. sure, he being a former soccer player and a dancer makes him popular with other people. you remembered near valentine’s day this year that many girls—including your juniors—asked you about his favorite candy or chocolate brand and flavors so that they could give that to him. some even leave gifts to you so you can give them to them and you are obliged to give them because you don’t want to experience the wrath of a teenage girl; you know that feeling too much yourself. yet, riki seemed to be more nonchalant about that, dividing the chocolates into the rest of his circle and not really giving anything back on white day—except for giving you, nina, and koko-chan different popin’ cookin’ sets you recognize costs money.

maybe he is a bad boy after all because of that. but, to you, that is his charm. riki doesn’t seem to be someone who is trying to please what society asks of him. he should’ve felt proud to get so many gifts for valentine’s day, but he doesn’t, and he is not afraid to show it. he has this sense of agency in him to know of what he is seeking even at such a young age, and to him, it is dancing.

“we don’t want to be late.” you get a last glance at him when he nods his head, brushing his bangs away from his forehead as he leads the way toward the locker area.

riki views some students replacing their outside shoes with their indoor slippers as he had done the same, tucking in his battered-up shoes inside his locker as he had to remind himself to bring the slippers home instead of putting them in the locker. or maybe it can be a gift for the first-year junior who is going to be assigned his previous locker for their shoes. that’s for him to think more about because he still sense he has time to think about it—the day felt both fast and slow at the same time.

the hallways are as clean as ever as he and you climb up the flights of stairs toward your homeroom class. his eyes gaze at the ever-changing properties hanging on the wall, yet he can definitely remember what it looked like when he was first here.

the newly painted wall now has chips of paint fallen off to show the dried concrete. the bulletin board where each club is advertising their project changes with every new administration. some plants he had first seen as sprouts now grow into a beautiful shrub. with a few of the existing shrubs died because of various reasons. yet, the look of the hallway still is the same as he could pinpoint places he had touched before: he had leaned his body against those set of windows, he had taken a peek inside one of the classrooms as he awaited taki to come out of the class, and he had also sat down on the floor there with his circle to their bento boxes because their usual hangout place is being renovated.

riki reached the handle and slides the classroom door as he is greeted by some students already sitting there, hearing the same roar as you step inside behind him. his eyes landed on the seats where you and he had sat for the past year, empty and inviting to both of you as you gazed at your classmates with their own bouquets (if they have one) and definitely their own diplomas as you watched them still admiring it. your eyes gazed to see the rest of your circle already in the classroom as you placed your backpack to hang on the seat and immediately walks towards nina, asking if she has any wet tissue.

“what took you so long?” riki heard shota’s scolding from the seat in front of him as he placed his own backpack beside his desk.

“didn’t expect for all of you to be here already. so (y/n) and i took our time,” he answered so honestly, hearing taki’s snicker beside shota as he was eating a snack. riki sits on his chair as his hand reaches for the cupboard underneath the desk in front of him, tapping his palm against the surface to recognize if he has any leftover items he hasn’t brought home. that’s when he felt sheets of paper that were united by a paper clip. he pulled it out, seeing the dusty paper of what looked to be a musical notary for his music class exam.

he remembered it was a final group project for the music class, and he had to do it with all six of the circle. riki remembered all the music lessons he had learned from his brief training with the trainers as he helped the group create their own song. shota in the drums, taki on the bass, nina on the guitar, and you on the piano whilst kokona and riki sing along with koko who uses her lyricist prowess to make a song that is seemingly about friendship and farewells. if riki hasn’t been accepted by his south korea agency, he would definitely pitch the idea to all of you to create a band. maybe all of you can be the latest sensation japan will meet on those shibuya crossing’s digital billboards.

yet fate says otherwise.

riki’s nose itches as he dusted the paper as the specks of dust floated towards the ground, looking at the clear version of the notation and even his own scribbles as he remembered how kokona berated him for not being able to match her melody—"i’m a dancer, koko-chan. not a singer." “but you’re an idol trainee. surely, you can sing.”—before carefully tucking it into his bag as he pulled the bouquet out of the bottom and let the bag open because he just knew that his whole backpack would smell like it if he kept it close.

looking towards the surface of the desk, riki sees a shadow standing menacingly in front of his desk. the shadow slides the glico’s pocky box in his vision. his head shifts upwards as he sees nina holding two more boxes of different flavors, making him look to his side to detect both you and kokona already having your own pocky with your own differing flavors.

“my gift to you all because i know i won’t be able to see you much in america.” nina says after putting the rest of the boxes in front of taki and shota. he could hear the two boys coo and send her gratitude before grabbing the boxes and opening them to ravage them for themselves. riki finally took a closer glimpse of yours as he finally noticed how both of your boxes are green-colored.

“did she give us the same flavor?” he mumbled to himself, yet he mumbled outwardly, making you shift your head and face him.

“i think our flavors are similar, let me see.”

you gently grip the wrist he is holding the box with and bring it beside yours. riki examines how his box has a dark chocolate gradient on it while yours is fully green, trailing his eyes down to read the flavor name on the front of the box.

“see, yours says green tea while mine is rich matcha.” you say what you observed as he can’t help holding back a giggle as you seem to unconsciously play around with your lip after you say the word “matcha.”

though purple is your favorite color—matcha is your favorite flavor. you have always been seen with matcha-flavored everything if you are given a chance. matcha lattes whenever all six of you visit a cafe, matcha mochi whenever you buy mochis, or matcha roll cakes when the gang is trying to buy something inside family mart. it’s no surprise nina gives you that, but why did she give him a similar, lighter version of it?

whatever, let’s just eat-

the sliding door opens and behind it, the figure of the class’ homeroom teacher appears. everyone, including riki, is applauding him—slightly drops the box on the table as he didn’t get to rip it properly. mister terada slowly steps inside, a surprised face on his face as he slowly walks to stand by the table in the middle of the class. he is carrying a large box with both of his hands as the holler continues, which is followed by whistles before he places it down on the table. mister terada raises his hands and slowly pushes it down as the volume follows.

“settle down kids. this is our last homeroom meeting.” mister terada says as riki gazes at the open box, knowing that it’s probably the yearbook that he had shot the photos for in january. he remembered that day cause it was still cold as heck. many of his classmates brought their own properties for the shoot, yet riki only wears his gakuran with a loose button and his trusty shoes—the black and white soccer ball is being lent by the committee because he has and wants to represent soccer on some sort so that he won’t forget.

“today, i’ll be giving you your yearbooks and also recapitulate your career sheet to see how each has progressed. i’m sure by now you have picked to focus on one of the three choices you made from those you picked in your first year to pursue.” mister terada stated as he started to call each name in the student's list, starting with the class president.

the giving off of the yearbook is also followed with a mini consultation of each student's progress. yes, right in front of the class, which can lead to embarrassment if they can’t keep up. but so far, everything still goes according to their plan, some even find themselves straying from their primary focus to explore something new or getting caught in something that becomes their infatuation.

most of his friends that have come forward and got their yearbooks have spoken about the same thing that they have spoken about just between the six of you: kokona is going to music school, nina is going to america and studying macroeconomics, and shota is pursuing game development. then, it was time for his turn as he heard the calling of a certain nishimura riki.

“that’s our idol!” he picked up taki's shouted words as the rest of the class laughed. everyone knows just how much riki likes to dance. he had shown his skills numerous times in the school’s talent shows either alone or with taki as the riki duo that they are. so it isn’t also a surprise for his classmates to find out he had been accepted into a label in south korea that has been throughout his school—courtesy of taki, as he is the one that always spills it.

it even created a whole discussion on why riki picked a korean label instead of japanese one, but one thing is prevalent in the discussion: the korean idol industry will see his dancing skills as more valuable than in the japanese idol industry. it’s just the way those industries goes honestly. but riki also wants to appreciate the korean idols that inspired him to be who he is right now; especially with the existence of japanese people in the korean idol industry and how the numbers are still going up.

the class seems to unanimously sing yoasobi’s idol as riki playfully does the gesture in the viral dance challenge as he now stands in front of mister terada. bowing down to greet him, he picks up the yearbook with two hands as the teacher asks, “how is it with your idol training?”

“it’s going good. i’m actually already planning to move to seoul after graduation so i can train better and have a higher chance of debuting.” yet, riki didn’t mention he will actually move tonight.

“well, we can’t wait to see you on the world stage, riki-kun. i love how consistent you are with it and i sure hope that your consistency could also inspire the juniors to follow their dreams.”

“thank you, mister terada.” he bowed his head once again before returning to his desk as mister terada called for the name after his. he playfully opened the yearbook and skimmed it before landing on his class. his fingers flip the paper to finally open to the page where all six of his friends are—because they shoot their pictures together. riki’s photo is the one where he had all the gakuran buttons off from their respective slots and he is holding the soccer ball against his hips.

“look at that, a very bad boy of a manga.” he could hear his thoughts speaking to him in your voice as he wished you acknowledged that. he also moved to the superlative pages as he could remember his same-year peers and juniors him in the running. he didn’t expect to win most changed by his peers. maybe it is because he has his growth spurt as he could tell that he might even grow 10 centimeters whilst in high school. but also with how his voice changes because of puberty and how his style changes to accommodate his interests, including more exposed yet baggy clothing and the clip-on earrings he likes to wear.

“(l/n)(y/n).”

riki heard the scrapping from the chair beside him as he watched you standing up and walking towards the front of the class. though you haven’t fully spoken about what you wrote on your career sheet, being a mangaka is what everyone knows that you wanted to be. your illustrating prowess has always been shown in the festivals the school made yearly, whether it is when you helped with the class’ food market by creating brochures and banners or when you even opened an illustration service where you drew students and teachers alike for them to have. it seems that you’ve got your life in line alongside him. and that’s why it shocked him to listen to what you’ve answered to mister terada’s question.

“yes, my progression with my university application is great. i’ve been accepted as a student in the international relations major in kyoto.”

riki’s eyes enlarged because he can’t believe what he is hearing. he turns his head towards his friends who are also looking at each other in quick succession, all of them having confusion on their faces before returning to you who is smiling like you didn’t even feel the quake that shook your friends’ beliefs about you. as you walked to your chair and look around at each of your friend’s face, you give them a tight-lip smile. yet, all of them hesitate to ask you why you choose international relations instead of design or art school. they have to respect your choice just like any of their classmate's changes.

the revelation shocked riki the most as he thought that you had trusted him enough to tell him everything. he has been your seatmate for three freaking years and you have grown up together since the first year. he had always seen you drawing in sketchbooks you bring in class, even ignoring some lectures so you can focus on drawing and reading manga. sure, he can see you must picked studying social science for a reason but he thought that—maybe just like he is as you both are creatives—you just don’t want to do math and natural science like he is.

the number of students without the yearbook dwindles as every desk has one on top of it. mister terada stares at the group he can call his kids while mumbling, “i’m so proud of all of you. hopefully you can continue to grow and be impactful towards society-“

“wait, mister terada!” the class president shouts as she scrambles to get something underneath her desk to then watch her pick up a new bouquet. “this is our gift to you so you also have your own bouquet alongside us.”

riki remembered when the class treasurer suddenly asked him if he wanted to contribute to gifting a bouquet to mister terada during the class’ yearbook photoshoot. he gladly accepts it as mister terada is the nicest homeroom teacher he had throughout high school. some of his other homeroom teachers are unnecessarily harsh towards the students and even shamed for not following through with their career sheets—knowing that teenagers also can get stressed too in doing so. mister terada is the only teacher riki can comfortably consult about his choice of being an idol. at that time, he was contemplating if he should audition for one or just focus on becoming a professional dancer. yet, mister terada’s push also helps contribute to him filling in the audition form.

mister terada received the bouquet from the class president as he stared at it, his eyes glimmering before saying, “thank you so much. could we get a class photo with all of us?”

the students are standing up as they try to set their places. one of the student’s parents, who is watching the class outside from the hallway window, steps in to take the picture. riki stands beside you, taking a peek to see you already in your pose as he can’t help but put his hand on your shoulder. what’s wrong with friends of the opposite sex being touchy with each other anyway when he had seen all the different hugs and leaning against shoulders between the six of you?

as the click of the phone camera taking the picture rings and dissipates, it’s followed by a chorus of thank yous being thrown around as some students hug each other. he is busy too, as some of his classmates are trying to take a few last selfies with riki before he becomes famous—making the rest of the gang just snicker from the side.

“i’m going to miss you guys,” shota spoke as all six of you were huddled in the group hug. one last warm hug before all of you are going to your separate ways. riki also should go back home to rest up as he will go to haneda airport later but when the hug separates and all of you six are promising to catch up and communicate in your line group chat, he is trying to keep up pace with you who is tidying up your purple backpack.

“(y/n)-chan.”

“yeah?” you looked up from the backpack after zipping it up, wanting to grab your drink and the pocky that you know you’ll be eating on your way home. yet, with the way riki is looking at you; you know he is trying to let something out.

“do you wanna hang out on the rooftop? for old time's sake, as it is our last chance.”

you held down your smile, knowing that you also didn’t want today to end so early.

“yes. let me text the others in the group-“

“just,” his voice cuts yours, “just the two of us.”

you watched as his glittering eyes told you something, telling you to follow him as you could definitely feel that something was hanging that you had to speak about. and you knew it was about the changes in your plan for the future, especially as you confide with riki so much of your dream in creating your own manga series.

putting the straps on your shoulders, you point your chin towards the door and say, “ok.”

-

the breeze comes rushing in even if you stand behind riki’s figure, blowing your hair as his figure turns into a silhouette when meeting the afternoon sun. you step out onto the concrete ground as you glance at the half wall circling around the perimeter, seeing a few chipped-out paint coming off from said walls before you turn around to be greeted with the rooftop garden. the rooftop that you and your friends have always been on since your first year.

the rooftop is a somewhat famous destination per se, but only the people who are brave enough to trudge against the ever-changing weather could remain here even within the three terms. so that’s why only a handful of people can call this rooftop their hangout place—other than the back of the school or the cafeteria. you glance at the shorter half wall near the garden, the place you and the rest of the six usually hung out at; ate lunch at, doing homework at, and spending your free time at. you can even remember when you initiated the circle’s “logo” as you write your name in an arch, making the others write their own to create a full circle following the curve.

you’re going to miss this place when you’re in kyoto. you’re going to miss the friends that you meet here.

stepping in front of you as you follow, riki approaches the short half wall that is also acting as a multi-use bench, eyes taking a glimpse at the garden’s chlorophyll coming back after winter has frozen them up. insects that seemed to be brave enough to fly this high are visiting here, carrying the pollen for the plants to grow faster. you follow his movement as you sit beside him, gazing at the beautiful view behind the half wall of the sky as the sun is on the way to setting on the west horizon.

riki reaches for his pocky as the sound of the box ripping is heard beside you, making you take your own opened one as you finally rip the plastic packaging open that separates you from the delicious cream on a biscuit stick. yours were more green than riki’s—hence the “rich matcha” flavor nina gave you. silently, you both take a bite of the stick that you pull out. your taste buds are overwhelmed by the combination of the matcha-flavored cream with the matcha-flavored biscuit stick. you look between the front of where you’re sitting to peeking from the corner of your eyes as you see riki doing the same, making you hold back the chuckle before awkwardness comes to remind you quick, making you finish your whole biscuit as your hand reaches inside the aluminum bag for another one.

“you said you want to be a mangaka?”

the breath that you are holding is slowly dripping out, knowing that your intuition is right as to why he brought you here.

“i thought we were gonna fulfill our dreams together…” riki’s voice seemed so cold—even colder than the leftover winter wind in spring.

your facial muscles twitch, maybe it’s because of the sudden sensitivity your face felt the breeze or is the answer that you don’t wanna think about suddenly popping into your mind. yet, when you turn your head—forcing yourself to be brave—you find riki already staring at you. his piercing eyes making goosebumps rising on your skin as, even through his eyes, you can read what he is telling you. you’ve drawn and seen characters in those eyes, but feeling it in real life feels different. much more hurting. much more loathing.

you try to think of the words that you remember you discussed with your parents as you talk about the future, as they’ve reminded you of how dangerous that industry could be—"many animators are crunching their hours. we don’t want to see you like that."—and the fact that they knew, they knew you couldn’t be creative under pressure makes you rethink it. and here you are, trying to explain that to your number 1 supporter, just as you are to him in his dancer-now-future-idol career.

“i, i don’t know if it’s viable for me…” you started, glancing between the pocky box you’re holding and him as you let out a sigh.

“then choose something else other than an illustration, like, i don’t know, painting? graphic design? you like those, right?” you can hear the way riki’s throat is getting hoarse as he speaks, how he is gritting his teeth when saying those words before he takes another stick from his pocky box and takes a bite. the muffled crushing of the biscuit is much louder than when you both are eating it.

“i have to think about my future, riki. you do know i like history and geography and international relation calls to me the same time as a career as a mangaka.” you said in nearly the same tone, not wanting to hold back as you can’t believe just how one-sided he seemed to think of you. that you’re not more than just an art kid in his eyes. “just like how you pick between being a dancer and a soccer player.” you said the last sentence, voice getting lower until the sentence ends near mumbling. but you know riki’s listening.

this is now the correct time for you to pour why you hid your choice from him.

“don’t you know just how dangerous the animation scene in japan is? people are overworked to churn out season upon season nearly every year. being an independent mangaka is also hard when you have to fight against the big guns in the industry. though i’m good at drawing, i don’t know about my writing skills-“

“you’re writing skill is perfectly fine.” he cuts your tangent, pivoting his head back towards you, still not stopping you from continuing.

“okay, but people are suffering there and if i join that system, i know i’ll be suffering too.” you rub the bridge of your nose near the corners of both of your eyes, pressing down on it as you don’t want a single tear out. not right now when you are trying to defend your choice. you’re willing to let out different words just to try to make him understand.

“and if i’m going to school in international relations, that doesn’t mean that i’ll be giving up on drawing. maybe i could join an organization or event there that needs someone to illustrate stuff. maybe i could try doing freelance whilst also working part-time in some convenience stores near tourist spots in kyoto. that doesn’t mean i’m going to easily give up on that dream, it’s just i’m taking the longer way.”

riki held his breath as he heard your reasoning, the way the look of your eyes seemed to dwindle but also increased in sparkles as he couldn’t figure out what feelings you were trying to say. anger? sadness? satisfy?

but when he felt your hand reach to hold his, he knew that you now want him to, at least, believe in you.

“you don’t know just how frustratingly messed up my thoughts are when you said you are accepted to a korean label and to fulfill your dream as a k-pop star.” your thumb caressed his pinky finger, “because i know that it’s going to be hard for me or for anyone in our circle to reach your level of success this young and to talk to you in general because you’re either going to be in korea all the time or you’re going to be layers behind bodyguards when you’re not there.”

you gulp down your saliva, “i’m glad one of us is going to fulfill our dreams faster.”

the last sentence hits riki so much that he has his life’s perspective turn in some random of degrees. he had heard of his parents talking about his older sister who is now in university, about just how different her childhood dream is compared to what she pursued whilst growing up. the same goes for riki, who wanted to be a soccer player before becoming a professional dancer and now being an idol. you must be facing the same thing. he recall how you mentioned you wanted to be a chef during your childhood, how it changed to your love for drawing, before seeing yourself as a diplomat, yet that could definitely change given you have four years of university.

life is definitely much more mysterious than what riki has been accepting. people’s wants and needs change given the situation, from the farthest to the nearest. dedicated people are there but the environment and instinct seem to tell them to change paths. he definitely realizes more that one person doesn’t have a definite answer to what is their purpose in life. is it like him to perform on stage? is it like what he thought you’d do in making a best-selling manga? all of that is a possibility, but that is not definite.

now he knows that the purpose of life is to live. every change of heart is there for a reason that is at the same level as every dedication. that, in life, anyone can define themselves as plural, like his mother who is also a businesswoman, and his father who is also an engineer. like you, who may become a diplomat and an artist. or even maybe him, who can be an idol but likes to play soccer. he had felt that he was erasing one dream for the next. but actually, he is just changing priorities to the one he is focusing on. that is his idol career for him and the international relations major to you—because that dream is still there, now lying dormant.

“you can fulfill your mangaka dream too, (y/n).” your ears perked up at what he was saying. your hand rests and is idle on top of his as you can feel his hand underneath yours flipping unto the other side. “what you said is true. that you can still have drawing as a hobby to help relieve you from school stress, that you can make pocket money out of it. that the place is still there for you even if you change your destination to try something else. and i’m sorry for not realizing that.”

his fingers move to be in between yours before curling in, making you look down at them before at his face, “i don’t know when we will arrive at the place that we want to go. maybe never. maybe someday. maybe even tomorrow.”

riki let out a tremendous sigh.

“but i believe that you can still get there. i believe that you, me, and our friends will eventually reach there,” he spoke his mind, making him turn away his head because of how his hand is randomly holding onto yours.

before he turns his back, he felt your fingers also curling to meet his hand, locking both of your hands as the sky is turning from a blue to an orange, letting you know just how much time you have with him as he had told you, and only you, that he’ll be leaving tonight.

“thank you.” your sentence of appreciation is enough to lift a smile on his face as it reflects on yours.

the scribble on the half wall remains there as you hoped some school officials wash it or paint it some months after today. the sunbeams shining through the window to the hallway where students are finishing cleaning up their class so they can return home. the green grass on the field creating short shadows beneath them as the sun starts to sink. your hand remains in riki’s as you both step out from the school gate for the last time—seeing your juniors, giving you a sad look to see you for the last time, but also a cheeky look after finding your connected hands.

you and him stood in front of the gate as you faced each other. both of your houses are on separate ways as you slowly let go of his hand, letting out a shrug whilst also having a small pout on your face.

“so, this is a goodbye, then? i can’t even contact you anymore because you’re going to be busy,” you spoke out the truth—knowing that k-pop trainees aren’t also allowed to have their phones most of the time.

“more of like a see you later because i know that i’ll be giving you and the rest of us six tickets if i someday hold a concert here,” he replied, holding onto the strap of his backpack as you find his pocky box peeking out from when the water bottle is supposed to be placed—mirroring your own self.

riki’s eyes seemed to glimmer with something as he reached to the buttons of his gakuran, tracing his fingers on the thick gold button as he reached the second from the top, easily popping it off as he pushed it towards you. you looked down and up at his face, not wanting to show the shock on your face as you reached for the button, pinching it between your fingers before you placed it on your palm and instantly curled it up to keep it safe.

his body got knocked back as he felt the arms wrapping around him. his arms are in a pause before he naturally lets go, raising his hands to rest on your back as he tugs you in closer. his mouth beside your ear.

“promise me you’ll remember me,” he whispered, sending chills running down your spine.

“i promise and i hope you do the same,” you replied, sensing a single tear falling out of your eyes as you wiped it away with his uniform.

“of course, i do,” he spoke back. his body seemingly not wanting to let go of you as you pull yourself back, feeling him holding onto your upper arms as you let out a tight-lip smile.

“go on. you have a flight to catch,” you smirked and took a few steps back when you sensed his grip loosen. your curled hand with the button in the grip is resting by your heart while you see riki’s wide smile as he steps backward opposite to where you are going. flailing his arms as a wave of goodbye as you just want him to go back fast so you can finally shed the tears that are wetting your eyes.

you raise your own hand as you wave a goodbye when riki looks at your figure getting smaller and smaller with every step he takes backwards, wanting to run back to you to give you one last hug because he knows he’ll be missing you so much. he hopes that you’ll arrive at your dream tomorrow, but he will always give a word of encouragement to you in his mind even if he is training in the dance studio in seoul starting tomorrow.

he hopes you keep and take care of his second button, just like how you have supported and encouraged him to pursue his dream. and he is now more determined than ever to make you and everyone who knows him deep down proud as he closes this chapter of his life and opens up the next.

taglist: @raeyunshm @leilasmom @evidive @boba-beom @kwiwin @heesw1fe @aloverga @endzii23 @fluffyywoo @camipendragon @hiqhkey @wccycc @cha0thicpisces @y4wnjunz @yeehawnana @beansworldsstuff @kimipxl @blurryriki @amazzwon @reallysmolrenjun @stealanity @deobitifull @gandaengene @beomgyumineiro

© writingmochi on tumblr, 2021-2024. all rights reserved

[angelic-omega]

~Heats~

>Pre heat feels like a bathtub slowly filling with water, just spending the day waiting for it to overflow

>Pre Heat feels like the walls are closing in

>Pre heat is the sudden urge to be as comfortable as possible

>Heat is draining the water but not being able to shut the water off so you just keep overflowing

>Heat feels like the room is spinning and you can’t focus on anything at all

>Heat is like swimming in something thick and sticky

>Heat is feeling time moving slower yet faster

>Heat feels like you’re hungry but no matter how much you eat your body wants more

>Heat is a dense blanket of fog that only clears here and there but hovers

>Heat lies in wait for the next bout while you enjoy some clarity

>Post Heat is groggily climbing out of your nest and finding yourself able to go about your normal routine

>Post heat feels like floating

>Post heat feels like a breath of fresh air after being stuck in a stuffy room for far too long

>Post heat is an innocent touch from your Alpha that doesn’t burn

[gayuu-the-necromancer]

William Rex Veemente: Passionately - Normal Story

｡⋆｡˚🦋˚｡⋆｡

The rain curtains covers the streets of London as if to hide all sins.

Also William's black cloak hid me as we returned to the castle.

Despite it being the middle of the night, a warm bath had been prepared for me.

Kate: "It's strange after all....."

I hold my knees, chin-deep in the bathtub, and murmured.

William sat on the chair, placed next to the bathtub.

And he was playing with my wet hair.

William: "What is?"

William: " 'I want to warm up in the bath but I don't want you to leave'...you got two of your selfish wishes fulfilled."

Kate: "Eh....!?"

When the familiar desire was expressed, I involuntarily look up from the hot water.

Kate: "Did I say that out loud...?"

William: "No? But I can tell just by looking at your face. And...."

William: "Look, you even didn't try to deny it."

Kate: "Y-You're so sneaky...!"

William: "Shh...it's midnight. We have to be quiet."

Kate: "Mm...."

William holds his index finger up to the front of my lips completely amused by my reaction.

Kate: "It's true that, what I want to do...is being done, but..."

It is embarrassing that only I feel defenseless.

The fact that the water was murky was the only thing that made me feel relieved.

Kate: "....Isn't William cold?"

William: "I'm not that wet thanks to my cloak. and I've changed my clothes, so don't worry."

William: "It might not be a bad idea to bath together...."

William: "But I'll leave it for another time. Right now, it's more fun watching you."

(Come on....)

The joy that had suddenly welled up in me drained the strength out of my body.

If someone says they enjoy looking me,

I even wanna let go of my embarrassment willingly.

(...I'm sure William can see that too)

Kate: "I sometimes wonder if William can read people's minds..."

William: "Yes...generally by gestures, facial expressions, body odor, temperature..."

Kate: "....Fufu, you're not even denying it."

William: "Sometimes it is the little things that speak volumes. Especially when...."

William: "You can't hide strong desires, you know."

William scooped my hand out of the hot water and began to play with my fingers whimsically.

(...I feel ticklish)

When traced between the fingers or on the edges of my nails,

I almost think something I shouldn't and I pull back the threads of reason.

Kate: "...Was it the same way when we first met?"

Kate: "You said I...had 'greedy eyes'."

William: "You really have good memory."

He was playing with my hand, but then let it go.

William's wet palms, this time holds my cheeks.

William: "Yes. These eyes, right here....were talking to me."

William: "I want you to take me somewhere'."

Kate: "Mm...."

Lovingly, he traces the rims of my eyes.

The look in his eyes is not the same as when we first met,

Something darker, hotter was flickering and smoldering.

"Sometimes it's the little things that speak volumes. Especially----"

(...What should I do?)

(I'm thinking of something very...convenient right now)

The way he looks at me, the way he smiles at me, the arms that protect me, the fingertips that touch me.

Every 'little things' is in the back of my mind.

My head, filled with anticipation, is burning up in a daze.

Kate: "Hey...William."

William: "....Mm?"

Kate: "I'd like to...check my answers."

Kate: "About you, about your heart."

William: "...Mm. Sure."

I gently untie the arm that was holding my knee.

The surface of the water shook, and the waves hit my body gently.

Kate: "I...."

Kate: "I want you to have a special love only for me."

William: "..........."

Kate: "I want you to have something in your heart that only I can feel."

Kate: "I want you to have what....only I can give you."

The endless overflow of selfish desires.

The more I verbalize it, the more feverishly it burns my chest.

William: ".....So, do you think I don't have that inside me?"

Kate: "There were times when I felt like.....maybe."

Kate: "Sometimes it's really these 'little things'...that makes me feel like you have special feelings for me."

Kate: "But..."

(Every little thing that I felt was...)

(If they are all connected to....one truth)

My heart beats so loudly that I can almost hear it echoing in the bathroom.

Kate: "Not sometimes, but I want it all the time."

Kate: "Can I think...that I'm specially loved?"

William: "Fufu....hahaha."

William: "Then it's not an answer, it's question."

William slowly rose from his chair with a throaty chuckle,

He sat on the edge of the bathtub and looked straight down at me.

William: "What if you don't believe what your heart feels?"

William: "Kate."

William: "The 'you' who smile more happily than ever beside me, while anticipating your eventual death..."

William: "I love you so much."

Kate: ".....Mm."

William's fingertips skimmed the surface of water just above my body.

My body almost jumps, even though he actually didn't touch.

William: "The love you have for me will lead you to your death."

William: "And yet I take pleasure in being loved by you knowing that..."

William: "Cruel, sinful----and therefore supremely sweet and happy."

Kate: "Ah...."

William's fingertips sank into the water and traced the scar on my stomach.

The sensation is slight, but it is intensely pleasurable and wet breaths flow out of me.

William: "Taste this sinful happiness, and by the time the poison has run it's course..."

William: "It would be an undeniable tragedy if I had to carry your corpse, my love, in my arms."

William's eyes speak of tragedy as if he were talking about paradise.

He was staring at me with that bewitching heat.

William: "Only you can give it to me."

William: "The sin of loving and being loved, the happiness of it and the despair of losing it."

William: "You're free, you're beautiful, you're becoming beautiful and I love you to the fullest...."

William: "I want to hold your corpse in my arms."

Kate: ".....William...."

I'm so happy, I'm choking.

The dark hot thing smouldering behind his bloody eyes were....

His self-righteous love.

William: "Is it safe to assume that you are specially loved'....What do you think now?"

William: "This desire I have for you----"

William: "You think it's not 'special'?"

Kate: ".....Ngh....."

Right back at me, but with each overflowing voice, my breath was snatched away.

Being loved by someone you love is.

(How could something as simple as that can be...)

(So happy and painful)

No matter how sad the future may be,

This sinful happiness---I can't let go of it anymore.

Chapter 25

[danwhobrowses]

nothing to see here just a crazy shipper guy going crazy over Callowmoore under the bit, if that's not for you then go about your business

So fellow Callowmoores how we feelin' this morning/evening? Because it's evening right now and I'm still bouncing off the walls in my mind

The one post could not keep me contained! No seriously the amount of tags I put in hit a limit and doesn't show them all

I mean yes we didn't get a kiss (yet) but goddamn we got so much, it has possessed me, deranged me, it's leaking outta my brain I gotta talk about it, so either jump out or buckle up because this overflow is gonna be long

First off I just gotta talk about how so many things almost lined up how I imagined them because it just makes it feel like they looked into my head and thought 'hey that's kinda good'. Like, I wanted Fearne to take the shard at Mori's, it was a safer space for her than the Ziggurat which is tainted by bad memories (this and other campaigns), I just didn't expect it so soon, thought they'd at least have a full rest first. In fact I had a whole scene in my mind where in a desperate gambit Delilah took over Laudna while she slept and just knocked on Ashton's door in a form of dread going 'where's the shard Ashton?'. It's key to this I promise not only because I enjoyed the idea of Ashton not taking any of Delilah's shit (plus for you Imodnas out there the mental scene involves Ashton whispering 'Imogen's in danger' to wake her, they also ask where Paté is because they still have that 'Paté is Delilah' theory) but it also expanded on the possible helplessness Ashton would have being unable to assist Fearne with taking the shard

'You're a child, Ashton. A blunt instrument that charges blindly into harm, would you really risk Fearne's life to earn her forgiveness? You know what it can do, what happens when you can't protect her from it?'

Of course, Ashton would never give Delilah the shard, which would frustrate Delilah since she can't manipulate them, but the comment weighs on Ashton a little. Which is when the whole waking Laudna happens and she leaves, but Fearne is in his room (the Vox Machina bathtub scene being inspiration), having asked to sleep there for comfort and asks them if it worries them. Which is where I often got to use this quote

'I don't believe in fate, but I believe in you'

And it sticks with me because it's super romantic, but also on-brand for Ashton, there were variations like the longer 'things only affect our path if we choose to believe they do; fate is complicated, the gods don't give a fuck, and I don't wanna even think about legacy anymore, I don't believe in them, but I believe in you' but then the next morning comes and Ashton gives her the ring, since I forgot about attunement there were instances where it was a sneaky sleight of hand thing, and Fearne completes the process. Of course, with weeks to go on there were a lot more scenarios like Fearne pickpocketing the Ashton doll to practice talking to and putting it back, Ashton seeking Mori for advice, herbal tea visions where Ashton entered their own mind and encounters the empress while on the outside Delilah possesses Laudna to try and drain the power from them, one where the shard having been reshaped through Ashton is less intense on Fearne for the first 4 rounds (since they blew up on the fifth) because Ashton's essence is containing and dissipating the hostile energy, and one where the group secretly vote against Ashton being there for Fearne taking the shard (Imogen, Laudna, and Chetney 3 to 2 against Orym and FCG) but Fearne as the decider pulls them over because she needs them there, stuff like that I'm sure fanfic writers could consume to their heart's content (and are free to, go nuts). But these scenes stood out because it had elements of stuff that are linked to or actually happened in the episode; Fearne does take the shard, Ashton endorses that Fearne is the only one who can take it, Ashton gives her the ring and Shattered Vigor is apparently a thing where Ashton is practically taking Fearne's pain to protect her, that alone is enough to go insane over.

And can we talk about the ring for a moment, because like THE RING. I'm not talking about generically either I mean that this ring has been significant to the shard saga ever since Ashton claimed it. It was found on the corpse of someone infused into stone, into the earth, right between the whole eidolons stuff where Ashton connected with an Earth elemental and then the Grau Dashari stuff with the crystals they merged with their hammer and then the Bor'dor incident, that could've easily been a titan-based punishment. Also, Ring of Volcanic Flesh, like Ashton's stone arm? And if that wasn't enough, what was the first thing Fearne stole from Ashton when they reunited? The ring, the act that broke down Ashton's walls as they let out a most heartfelt 'I missed you, so much' the ring that Fearne stole right off of Ashton's fingers only for them to willingly put in her hand to protect her, because just as they said at the clock tower, everything they have belongs to her. And while legacy and hubris had a part in the shard incident, part of it was also for Fearne. I don't believe there's any situation where if Fearne said she wanted the shard at the clock tower Ashton would've said no; Ashton knows that Fearne was key to the shard dislodging in the lava, they sensed it was in a way key to both of them, but there was no reality where Ashton was gonna force Fearne to take the shard if she didn't want it. And yes it blew up in their face, much like Fearne they saw an image of themselves they didn't want to be, their soul broke with the realisation that they hurt the one person they never wanted to hurt, but thanks to Percy they also realised that they had to change. It wasn't enough to see everyone else having someone at the reunion and internalizing 'if someone has to not come back it's gotta be me' they had to make steps towards being the person the Hells needs them to be, someone who can come back with them.

Which is where last episode started setting it up, and I didn't speak much about it at the time because other than the pretty plain 'I would've rather died than hurt Fearne' insinuation (which in turn was confessed to save Fearne from falling) there was only crumbs that could be interpreted other ways; for instance Birdie's tale with Athion and Olly being somewhat of a parallel to Tevan and Ashton, the formers wooing Birdie and Fearne with temptations of indulgence while the latters drawing their attention by being subjects of intrigue, defiance and kindness, plus they saved the latters (Birdie literally via escaping the prisons and Fearne emotionally and literally), or before the Orym conversation when Ashton takes 'one last look' Taliesin looks towards Ashley last. But I knew there was poetic significance to Ashton failing the communication trial, Marisha sensed the vibe too, but even though Fearne was nervous about guiding Ashton, the fault fell to poor dice rolls (and Liam not keeping shtum and summoning thunderwasps) and once again Ashton in an attempt to prove themselves falls flat on their ass in front of the person they most want to prove it to. And that did break my heart a little I must admit because as poetic as it was who hasn't been there? Ashton's journey of proving themselves has been laden with failure too; being unable to protect anyone from Otohan led to them almost being TPK'd, being unable to keep the group together at the Malleus Key led to the group being scattered, and then Team Trauma's stuff - Orym was despondent and Laudna's a wreck, got a random 'shepherd's boy', a powerful Cobalt Soul teen prodding about the solstice and all of Deni$e here added as mainly combat support, loners but no leaders, Dawnfather angel thinks them insignificant, dark spirits trying to consume their only leads about the Hishari - and the moment Ashton started to trust Bor'dor after the pipe vision what happens? Betrayal, Hunger of the Shadow and Delilah is let back in, Ashton couldn't even keep Laudna safe from herself, they reunite, try to sort out their shit with their past, discover that they might have a destiny to fulfill and end up being too willing to die in place of others, and unable to protect their new family from themselves, because of these recent failures it was important that Ashton proved themselves in the trust trial.

And thankfully they did, there was no way to prove that anyone was a Doppelganger and yet, Ashton still trusted Fearne; twice saving her from the flora even when told to leave her behind. And they were close to another failure when the branch was snatched - after their attempts to keep it safe by throwing it in the pool alone - but they trusted Chet and Orym (father/son duo) to cover more ground while they helped Fearne. And even when FCG told Ashton 'I think it's Fearne', and when Imogen was untrusting of Fearne, Ashton abandoned their held action to save FCG from the brambles because they knew Fearne could be trusted. They trusted Imogen to connect to Ruidus and as mentioned endorsed Fearne to take the shard.

And sure, in my mental scenarios Ashton gives her the shard, doing the same she did for them, but I did say almost like how I imagined. And Ashton still did everything they could, plus Imogen comforted their visible worry, but once it's complete they're just in awe, and then their own spark awakens through her touch, a touch they were unafraid of even at the threat of newfound fire, and now for the first time ever they feel whole. She saved them, and now they finally feel complete, and now this time Fearne is agape, Fearne is in awe, and everything she had hoped Ashton would gain from taking the shard before has come to fruition through her, and it's just, joy, pure incorruptible joy, a kindred connection that belongs to just them. Plus a big piece of paper for all the new powers they are excited to learn about from each other, with each other, and while Matt can talk about there being risks to them because you gotta balance the combat the narrative significance is still there.

But dammit they need to kiss, I've yelled it enough times in my head; like the lava, the clock tower, before and after Fearne took the shard, the only times they did kiss was before the solstice (the forehead kiss) and the ziggurat and both preceded bad times, they deserve a proper one, not one at risk of being a goodbye, something precious, irreplaceable and theirs to have, to share. And I don't know if they should use the patented 'can I kiss you?' or take a tip from BeauYasha and use 'I wanna kiss you so bad right now' or find something else to make their own but I desire it so much, had it happened this ep I probably would've melted out of my seat. They're awkward and nervous but they gotta take the leap, Ashton needs to realise they're loved and maybe even be told that they deserve it even when they feel they don't, and Fearne has to take a risk too, the shard put doubt to her decisions but that doesn't mean she can run from her strong emotions. It doesn't fix everything of course, but sometimes people heal better together than apart. As a currently vorbed half-elf once said 'drink the courage first'.

Curiosity continues to send me after the ep, and while some people are attempting to blemish or rain on the parade (I mean, I try not to speak ill of other ships in general, but if you're gonna be negative about it you can at least do it in your lane, your tags not ours) I am still just riding the high of the possibilities. True, the unknown can make me nervous, and I will admit the group has to give Ashton and Fearne space (they're just excited, and with the bloody bridge hinting to be a final moon-based battle there is that sense of urgency) Imodna had nudges sure but they have been a bit heavy-handed and kinda chaperoned around them, Fearne and Ashton seldom get time alone, one can hope they can get that time with each other next episode.

[harpywritesfic]

This weekend I’m embarking on a journey that’s been long overdue.

(Semi-long post below the cut. TL;DR: I’m handwashing a plushie and telling you about it because I’m kind of scared it won’t turn out well and it’s all I can think about)

I have had this dog plush for three years. I use him as a pillow when I nap because he offers fabulous neck support and he’s the perfect thickness to leave my arm underneath him. I love him but he is in desperate need of a wash. He’s become very grody after three years of me drooling and sweating on him. He’s had the hoodie to serve as a pillowcase for the last year but he got plenty gross before that. I’ve had to spray him with fabric deodorizer. As you can see, he’s not in the best shape.

Problem is, I don’t want to throw him in the washing machine. He was like 25$ at the grocery store so he’s not particularly well-made or sturdy. I hate change, especially related to my bed and my sleeping setup, so I won't be taking any chances. Therefore he will be lovingly drowned by hand. First I had to stitch up a hole and then I found a nice bin to wash him in.

Perfect size.

Onto the drowning! Just cold water, a bit of laundry detergent, and me forcing him under the water. (don't mind the duct tape. i have to cover the overflow drain if I want to bathe with water actually covering my legs. small bathtub large person problems)

Honestly, the water was less nasty than I feared. I rinsed him with fresh water five times just to be safe. Then he got rolled up in a towel and kneaded like dough to work some more water out. Here he is limply hung to drip over some towels after removing all the water I could.

He’s still very waterlogged but not so heavy. So he’s getting a little trip to the dryer with no heat and a pillowcase tied over his head to protect his eyes and nose. Why does every step of this process look like a murder scene?

This is the part I’m nervous about. He’s still in the dryer. I'm scared.

[grahamfolgersdeliciousnotebooks]

“I think the bath is probably ready." Martin nodded and stood up from the table. Jon watched him walk to the bathroom. When he opened the door, he was hit with a wall of steam so thick it looked almost solid. It curled around his limbs and fogged over his glasses until the lenses were white and opaque as they had been in the Lonely. He took an unsteady step back. “I– I don’t think I can–” Jon rushed to his side, cursing himself for not seeing this coming. He set a hand on Martin’s shoulder, and Martin seemed to grow more solid beneath his touch. “Alright, you’re alright,” he murmured hastily. “Just let me–” He stepped into the bathroom and hastily shut off the taps before the bathtub could overflow, and then he sprinted back out and shut the door behind him. One of his hands flew to Martin’s cheek, and the other grabbed his hand. Martin’s skin was still so very cold.. “I’m sorry, I should have thought–” “No, it’s fine, you’re fine,” Martin whispered. He leaned into Jon’s touch, pressing his face into Jon’s scarred palm. “I’m fine.”

For @jonmartinweek day 7 - "Caretaking"

Martin’s skin was cold. Jon knew this because he hadn’t loosened his grip on Martin’s hand for the entire trip from London to the Scottish highlands, not even when they’d both dozed off on the train. It had been colder when they’d first emerged from the Lonely, so cold Jon was genuinely worried that he might have saved Martin from the Forsaken just to lose him to hypothermia, but there hadn’t been time, in the frantic scrabble to get away from London, for him to do anything substantial to warm himself up. There hadn’t even been time for a cup of tea.

Jon was determined to change that as soon as they arrived at the safehouse.

“Why don’t I run you a bath?” he asked after they’d had a look around and set their bags down in the bedroom (the only bedroom, Jon noted and then quickly filed away to deal with later). “And maybe put the kettle on? You never really got a chance to properly warm up.”

Martin nodded his assent – he hadn’t been very talkative, and Jon wasn’t going to push – and Jon set to work, tracking down the safe house’s ancient copper kettle and setting it on the hob before heading to the bathroom and turning on the taps in the chipped old porcelain tub. He let the water run for a minute, warming up until it was hot enough that it began to steam, before putting the plug into the drain and leaving to let it fill.

It was not the best cup of tea Jon had ever made in his life. They hadn’t had a chance to buy groceries, so there was no milk or sugar in the house, only an old tin of loose leaf tea and a few tins of soup. Still, it was warm, and that was what mattered. A bit of color seemed to return to Martin’s cheeks as he sipped.

“Thanks, Jon,” he said. It was the first he’d spoken since they’d boarded the train, hours before, and his voice was hoarse and cracked. 

Jon wanted to tell him that he didn’t need to thank him. He wanted to say that it was nothing, that Jon would die for him – had killed for him – and all things considered a bad cup of tea was not really worth praising. 

“I think the bath is probably ready,” he said instead.

Martin nodded and stood up from the table. Jon watched him walk to the bathroom. When he opened the door, he was hit with a wall of steam so thick it looked almost solid. It curled around his limbs and fogged over his glasses until the lenses were white and opaque as they had been in the Lonely.

He took an unsteady step back. “I– I don’t think I can–”

Jon rushed to his side, cursing himself for not seeing this coming. He set a hand on Martin’s shoulder, and Martin seemed to grow more solid beneath his touch. 

“Alright, you’re alright,” he murmured hastily. “Just let me–” He stepped into the bathroom and hastily shut off the taps before the bathtub could overflow, and then he sprinted back out and shut the door behind him.

One of his hands flew to Martin’s cheek, and the other grabbed his hand. Martin’s skin was still so very cold. “I’m sorry, I should have thought–”

“No, it’s fine, you’re fine,” Martin whispered. He leaned into Jon’s touch, pressing his face into Jon’s scarred palm. “I’m fine.”

Jon took a step closer, closing the gap between them. He pulled Martin’s face closer, until their foreheads were resting against each other. 

“You’re freezing.”

“I’m sorry,” Martin said, and Jon shook his head.

“Would it help if– if I joined you?” he asked. “Not in the bath, just in the room. So you’re not alone.”

“That– I think that would help a lot.”

Jon nodded, tightened his grip on Martin’s hand, and opened the door.

Some of the steam had dissipated, but there was still too much for comfort. The memory of that windswept beach loomed in both their minds as they stepped inside. Martin finally dropped Jon’s hand so he could remove his glasses, shrug out of his coat, and peel off his shirt. When he had gotten his trousers off, he glanced at Jon.

“Um,” he squeaked. Jon wasn’t sure if it was embarrassment or just the steam that was making his cheeks grow pink.

“Right,” Jon muttered, and turned his back.

He faced the wall as Martin finished undressing and slipped into the water with a gentle splash. He let out a few soft, pained, oohs and ahhs as his skin made contact with the hot water, then he cleared his throat. “Y-You can turn back around now. I-If you want.”

He turned to see Martin sitting half-submerged in the small tub, chest and knees poking out of the water. Jon stared for a moment, taking in the swells and curves of him, the whorls of honey-colored hair that spread across the wide expanse of his chest before stretching downward to his stomach and beyond, the dappling of freckles across his arms, his shoulders, every newly-exposed inch of him. Then he remembered where he was and what he was doing, and all the many reasons Martin might not want an avatar of the all-seeing, uncaring god of terrible knowledge to stare at him, and he averted his eyes.

He stepped across the tiny room and took a seat on the floor beside the tub. After a second’s consideration, he reached out and grabbed Martin’s hand.

“Is this alright?”

“Yeah,” Martin said. His voice had gone high-pitched in the way it always did in awkward situations, but he didn’t pull away.

They didn’t speak for a long time. The silence was only broken by the quiet lapping of water against the sides of the tub as Martin cleaned himself off with the hard little yellow brick of soap that he found on the side of the tub, where it had probably sat for years or more. He seemed to come alive under the warm embrace of the water, humming softly to himself as color returned to his skin. He sank deeper into the tub, letting his head slip beneath the surface of the water, and when he reemerged, he gave a sigh of such contentment that Jon could have cried.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “I know this isn’t– I mean, I shouldn’t need someone to hold my hand through this, but–”

Jon squeezed his hand more tightly, cutting off the stream of self-deprecation. “I don’t mind. I’m just glad you’re alright. I…” he paused; wondered how honest he should be. “I missed you.”

Martin drew his knees up to his chest.

“Yeah,” he said, speaking to the water and not at Jon. “Yeah, me, too.” He stared into the suds. “Not the whole time. I– I forgot how after a while.”

Jon rubbed his thumb across Martin’s knuckles, grounding him, keeping him anchored to the here and now, in this tiny bathroom. 

“It felt… strange. Not caring about you. Like a part of me was missing.” He watched the steam rising off his skin like so much deadening fog, and sighed. After a long, silent moment, he finally glanced up at Jon. “I’m, um. I’m glad I found it again.”

Jon didn’t think about what he did next. If he had, he would have decided that it was too much, too fast, and far too soon after Martin had returned from the Lonely. The kind, sensible thing to do would be to give him time, and space. Instead, he lifted himself half-off the floor, took Martin’s face in his hands, and pulled him in for a kiss.

Martin’s hands flew up to cradle Jon’s face, and sheets of water dripped off of him onto Jon’s shoulders. His clothes were going to be soaked, but he didn’t care. He pushed deeper into the kiss, craning over the lip of the tub, and when Martin stretched to meet him, water sloshed out of the bathtub and onto the cold linoleum floor, soaking through the knees of Jon’s trousers.

It was awkward – too wet, too uncertain, too uncomfortable an angle – but Jon could not find it in himself to complain.

They pulled apart.

“Wow,” Martin whispered, and Jon echoed him.

“Wow.” 

“Was that… Was that just a, ‘I’m glad you’re alive,’ thing, or…?”

“No, I’ve– I-I wanted to do that for quite a while,” Jon said. Then he added, “T-Though, I am glad you’re alive.”

“Right,” Martin said, color rising to his cheeks. “Cool.” He looked down at the tub, now a great deal emptier than it had been, and said, “This is probably a conversation we should have fully-clothed, huh?”

“Probably,” Jon agreed, rising up off his aching knees. “Let me find you a towel.”

Then he set off in search of the safe house’s linen closet, but not before stooping to press one last kiss to Martin’s wet forehead.

“I’ll be back in a second,” he said.

“I’ll be here.”

[soft-candiess]

Noticing that my bathtub is starting to get too small for me. I have to bend my legs so that water won’t overflow to the drain💀

[gumballavocadoharry]

Harry and River;

Bedtime routine:

It was striking 8:00 and River was dancing around to Spongebob episode, mimicking off Patrick doing a silly dance. "Alright, Rivie it's bedtime now." "But I'm not-" River was then cut off by a yawn. "Yes you are," I forgot yawns are contagious, "And so am I." I turned off the Tv and picked River up and took him upstairs. "First it's bath time, then we brush our teeth, then story then-"

"Milk and cookies!" River cheered. I gave way to a small giggle. "And maybe some milk and cookies."

I ran the bath, adding in extra bubbles and toys for River. He was in his room getting undressed before coming into the bathroom. River was wrapped in his teddy bear towel, holding it close to him. "Come on baby, let's get you into the bathie," I took the towel and tried taking it off him, only to be fought.

"No daddy! I'm a big boy," River turned away, "In fact, I can get in the tub myself." My heart broke a little more than it should've. "Are you sure?" He nodded, "But I used to change you!" I cooed, I gently pinched River's cheeks, "I changed your diapies!"

"Daaaad!" I was cut off by. And I thought River's threenager stage was over. I turned around while River helped himself into the tub. The splashes made me turn around. "Okay, how about Mr. Bubbles gets in on this?" I made the already overflowing bubbles in the tub, spill over as the mixture of watermelon scented shampoo and body wash only added to the chaos of the tub.

"I'm splash man!" River coupled that with a big splash in the tub that pretty much soaked me. He spotted my unamused look as I was drenched in 'Splash man's' splashes. "River, you're the one taking a bath," I upped my tone as not to sound testy. "Sorry daddy." He contrited. "Oh, I could never stay mad at my pooh bear." I cooed, while rubbing his head.

"No daddy, Imma big boy...." I pouted a little, "You don't wanna be daddy's pooh bear?" River pouted a little too. It was only then I could see just how much our reactions were alike; we shared a puppy dog pout. "I'm no baby!" He squealed. I sat my elbow on the edge of the tub and put my hand to my cheek.

"I know...." I drifted a little, "It's just.....this world can be so harsh..and keeping you a little baby is my way protecting you." Of course not really, but I did nudge my nose to River's own one. "I love you."

"Love you too dada." He flashed this toothy smile that gleamed innocence. "What harsh world daddy?" I gulped a little, eyes wondering towards the floor. "Mean people who'll hurt you for no reason....bad things....crooks, robbers....like the bad guys on tv except much worse."

River looked worried, "Will they eat all my cookies?" I couldn't help but gasp an awe. "No sweetie, daddy will make sure they don't....I'll protect you...forever,"

"Forever and ever?" "Forever. And that's a promise. With every living being and breath!" I smushed my puckered lips into River's chubby cheeks before getting him out of the bathtub and wrapping him in towel. "Go get into your pj's while I empty the tub."

My mind still flickered over the conversation with River I had. I cleaned the tub just....worrying, worrying about the dangers of the world; now and in the future. When River wants more freedom....I get scared. I want him to grow of course into this capable human being, but at the same time I worry about what might happen to him and how I don't want anything to hurt him.

Everytime I think of teenage River, all I can see is those big green eyes who look up to me, asking for a "cookie." I just can't help but kiss him all over his face and just wrap myself around like a thick shield that would defend him to the death of necessary.

After draining the tub, I met River in his bedroom where he was in his pajamas. I lotioned his body and then dried his hair off before plopping River into his snuggly bed and moving rexie in with him. "Who's ready for a bedtime story?" River raised his and rexie's hand/claw. "We are!" River climbed out of bed and snuggled next to me, making me wrap my arm around him.

"What do you think this story's gonna be about?" River scanned over the cover; a duckling, a cat and a goldfish all had umbrellas in their hands. "Playing in the rain?" I smiled, "Well, let's see."

River sucked his thumb through the whole story, eyes glued to what would happen next. "The end," I closed the book and turned towards River. "Wasn't that a great story?" He nodded looking sleepy. "I know what would help....how about some warm milky?" I cooed a little in my baby voice. I brought River up some warm milk in his favorite green and blue sippy cup with triceratops on it. "Are we all set?" I softly said.

"Yeah," River smacked, taking a break from drinking his milk. "And rexie has his milky too?" Rexie nodded. "Okay, well then that means it's time for my big ferocious dinosaurs to get their goodnight kissies." I pressed my lips to River's cheeks before pressing another one to rexie's. "Goodnight my little dino...." I softly trailed off, watching as River gently closed his eyes and drifted to sleep.

I went back to my bedroom and silently sketched before my eyes became heavy and found myself drifting to sleep as well.

[blackandwhiteplumbing]

Gold Coast Plumbing Experts: Your Trusted Solution for Plumbing Needs

Introduction

The Gold Coast, renowned for its stunning beaches and vibrant lifestyle, is also home to a network of plumbing professionals dedicated to providing high-quality services to both residents and businesses. Gold Coast plumbing experts are essential for maintaining the functionality and efficiency of plumbing systems, ensuring that the community enjoys a reliable water supply and waste management system.

Importance of Professional Plumbing Services

1. Expertise and Experience

Gold Coast plumbing experts possess the knowledge and skills necessary to tackle a variety of plumbing issues, from minor leaks to major installations and renovations. Their experience ensures that they can quickly diagnose problems and provide effective solutions, minimizing disruption to your daily life.

2. Compliance and Safety

Professional plumbers are well-versed in local building codes and safety regulations. They ensure that all plumbing work is compliant with relevant laws, reducing the risk of legal issues or safety hazards. This compliance is especially crucial in a region like the Gold Coast, where properties must withstand specific environmental conditions.

3. Emergency Services

Plumbing issues can arise unexpectedly, often causing significant inconvenience or damage. Many Gold Coast plumbing experts offer 24/7 emergency services, ready to address urgent problems such as burst pipes, overflowing toilets, or severe leaks, thus providing peace of mind to homeowners and businesses alike.

Common Plumbing Services Offered

1. Leak Detection and Repair

Undetected leaks can lead to extensive water damage and increased utility bills. Plumbing experts use advanced technology to locate leaks, whether hidden behind walls or underground, and provide prompt repairs to prevent further issues.

2. Drain Cleaning

Clogged drains can cause backups and unpleasant odors. Professional plumbers can clear blockages using specialized equipment, ensuring that your plumbing system functions effectively.

3. Installation and Repair of Fixtures

From faucets and sinks to toilets and bathtubs, plumbing experts handle the installation, repair, and replacement of all types of fixtures, ensuring proper functionality and aesthetics in your home or business.

4. Hot Water Systems

Gold Coast plumbing professionals can install, maintain, and repair hot water systems, ensuring you have reliable access to hot water. They are knowledgeable about various types of systems, including gas, electric, and solar-powered options.

5. Renovations and New Builds

New construction or renovation projects often require extensive plumbing work. Gold Coast plumbing experts work with builders and homeowners to design and install plumbing systems that meet their specific needs.

Choosing the Right Plumbing Expert

When selecting a plumbing service in the Gold Coast, consider the following factors:

1. Reputation

Look for plumbing experts with positive reviews and testimonials from previous clients. Online platforms and word-of-mouth recommendations can provide valuable insights into a plumber's reliability and quality of work.

2. Licenses and Insurance

Ensure that the plumber you choose is fully licensed and insured. This not only assures you of their qualifications but also protects you from potential liabilities.

3. Transparent Pricing

A reputable plumber should provide clear quotes and transparent pricing structures. Be wary of hidden fees or vague estimates.

4. Range of Services

Choose a plumbing expert who offers a comprehensive range of services to address all your plumbing needs, whether they are routine maintenance or urgent repairs.

Conclusion

Gold Coast plumbing experts play a vital role in maintaining the health and functionality of plumbing systems in the region. With their expertise, professionalism, and commitment to customer satisfaction, these plumbing professionals are invaluable partners for homeowners and businesses alike. Whether handling emergencies or routine maintenance, choosing the right plumbing service can save you time, money, and stress, ensuring that your plumbing systems run smoothly for years to come.

[bluezey]

Bathtime and Chill

Wade relaxes with a long soak in the bathtub.

Just wanted to do a fluff one.  Writing smut is fun, and I do like writing smut, ngl.  (And I keep the smut on A03). But relationships aren’t all about sex, and Ember and Wade are a great romantic couple.  I also wanted to show off some headcanons of mine that Wade loves to soak in long baths, and Ember likes to smoke.

Wade closed the apartment door behind him.  He leaned his back against the door, closed his eyes and sighed.  He slouched down so much his legs gave way into a puddle on the floor.

It’s been a rough week at work, but being a city inspector isn’t easy.  He hasn’t done anything incredulously wrong such as get washed into drain pipes or accidentally cause a cement explosion that encased half a dozen construction workers in concrete.  But seeing people react to getting citations is stressful enough on his emotional heart.  The responses for tickets are usually people angrily shouting curse words or verbal threats at him, or just crying about how they can’t pay the fines for one reason or another.  Wade wishes there was something he could do, but not every fine or ticket can be pled away to his supervisor.  At least that’s what his supervisor says, and this new one is more hot headed than Gale.  But what else can he do?  It’s his job, and he wants to keep this one, and provide for his and Ember’s lives in the city.

At least tomorrow is his day off, and he knows the perfect way to relax his overworked nerves.  Besides a good cry, of course.

Wade made a beeline straight into the hall bathroom and to the bathtub.  It was a big bathtub, big enough for two people to soak in it with room to spare.  Though Wade uses it, Ember unfortunately can’t bathe, as she is a fire person.  Ember mentioned something about how fire people don’t need to bathe as they usually burn off whatever dirt they have on their body.  Water people like Wade do something similar: they filter any debris out of their system.  While they don’t need to bathe, a good shower or bath can speed up the filtration process.  Also, bathing is a great pastime for water people.

Especially for Wade.  He finds it so relaxing that he could spend hours just soaking in the tub.

Wade almost has it down to a science.  He starts by running the bathwater, not too hot, not too cold, just perfectly warm.  He turns on the smart speakers to play some music he likes:  usually something soothing such as rainfall or classic piano, basically some white noise involving calm music or the sound of water, or both.  As the bath begins to gradually fill, he begins to prep the water with bubbles, soaps, oils and such.  By the end of it all, the tub is basically a soothing smelling concoction full of bubbles and water.

With everything prepped, Wade took off his shirt and hung it neatly on the back of the door.  Then, he dimmed the bathroom lights til he could barely see through the ambience.  He then stood by the tub and started by gently placing one foot into the water, as if he was testing it to see if it’s perfect.  It usually is perfect, but sometimes a little more bubbles or oil couldn’t hurt.  He then slowly steps into the tub, then sits into the water.  He usually fills the tub up to his chest, that’s as deep as they go without overflowing.  Overflowing is not a big issue in a water apartment, but it kinda is when he’s sharing an apartment with a fire woman.

Wade leaned back and took a big sigh of relief as he closed his eyes and laid in the tub.  By this point he literally sinks into the water.  Literally literally.  He literally loses his humanoid form and his water becomes one with the bath water.  Wade closed his eyes and took deep breaths, feeling his chest fill with air with every inhale, and his water mingle with the bath from the chest down.  He listens to the music, smells the sweet scent of oils, and feels the occasional tickling tingle of the bubbles.

After a while Wade gradually sinks lower into the tub, each time becoming more and more relaxed, and more and more at one with the bubbly soapy water.  Before long just his shoulders are above the water surface, then his head, then his whole body is submerged.  At this point, his body is barely a set of eyes floating under the layer of bubbles, as his whole body has become the bath water.  Even he can’t tell where the bath ends and his water begins.  And it’s one of the most relaxing feelings he’s ever experienced in this elemental world.

Time passes before he barely hears the sound of the bathroom door opening, though he can feel the hall light pour into the dim room.  He opened his eyes, stinging a bit as he tried to peer through the layer of bubbles floating on the surface.  He can barely make out the silhouette of Ember as she entered the bathroom and turned up the lights.

Wade reforms from the shoulders up as he rises from the water.  He squints his eyes from the bright light, but blinks them open as they adjust.  He could then make out Ember amusingly catching the sight of Wade soaking in the tub.  “Did I interrupt your me time?” she asked.

“Not really.  Maybe a little,” Wade admitted.  He then caught sight of a cigarette pursed between Ember’s fiery lips.  “Uh, Em?” he asked, pointing to his lips.

“Hm? Oh.  Sorry,” Ember plucked the cigarette from her lips and dashed it out into the sink like it was an ashtray.  She remembered that Wade wasn’t a fan of her habit, but forgot that she still had a lit cigarette in her mouth as she entered the apartment from the balcony.  The balcony is the only place they decided she could smoke.

“I’m still surprised that your parents never caught you smoking,” Wade commented, remembering how Ember admitted that Bernie and Cinder didn’t like their daughter smoking cigarettes either.

“They kinda did.  They did find a pack on my nightstand once,” Ember admitted as she sat on a metal stool in the bathroom.  She then turned on a small dehumidifier to remove some of the humidity in the room, so the air was more tolerable for her.  “I usually smoked when they were asleep.  Didn’t have to worry about hiding the scent of smoke when everything in the building is burning.”

“Hey,” Wade exclaimed a bit as he caught Ember trying to remove the humidity from the room.  Of course he knows Ember is more comfortable in a dry environment, but he just got the air in here perfect without the need of his oil diffuser.

“Oh, sorry.  Hold on.”  Ember left the room for a moment.  She returned with two wine glasses and two bottles of alcohol.  One was a bubbly wine cooler for Wade, and one was a hot cider for her.  After pouring a glass for her and a glass for Wade, she dimmed the lights and closed the bathroom door.  Now the room was mainly lit by the light of Ember’s body.  “Does that make up for it?” she asked.

Wade took a moment to watch as Ember’s light reflected off the bath water and Wade’s water, painting the walls with the golden rippling hues dancing gracefully on the walls.  “So much better.  I love when your fire does that.”

“I know what my water guy likes.”  Ember clinked her glass against Wade’s and they both took a sip of their drinks.  She watched as Wade sank back into the tub until he was shoulders deep.

“Of course, it’s funny,” Ember thought aloud before taking another sip of her hot cider. “Some of our fire traditions do include smoking a hookah.”

Shocked and curious, Wade sat up from the bath until he was chest high above the water.  Ember had to lean back a little to avoid getting splashed.  “Your parents let you smoke one of those?”

“Yeah, but only on some of our very traditional fire holidays,” Ember commented.  “Hey, I have it in the bedroom closet somewhere.  You wanna try it?”

“No thanks,” Wade replied, laying back down in the tub.

“Okay, but I’m breaking it out next month for a traditional smoke,” she told Wade.  “You’re still welcome to try.”

“Would that be bad taste for a water guy to participate in a fire holiday?” Wade asked.  “Like, some cultural appropriation thing?”

“Hm, I dunno,” Ember thought aloud.  “I don’t see a problem with it, but I wouldn’t want to offend my culture.”

“I wouldn’t want to offend your culture either,” Wade added.

Ember shrugged.  “I’ll ask my parents, next time I call them.”

Wade sighed and watched the golden ripples of Ember’ light dance across the ceiling.  He sank back deep enough into the tub that he disappeared under the bubbles again.  “I’m so glad you joined me,” Wade thought aloud as he felt his water become a part of the bath again.  “Sometimes, when I’m enjoying a good soak, I wish you could join me, somehow.”

“I just felt like checking in on you.”  Ember leaned over carefully and gently blew some of her hot breath on the bubbles, causing them to pop.  She then caught sight of her reflection in the exposed water surface, before seeing two eyes and a smile emerge and look right up at her.  The two shared a laugh, with Wade’s laugh causing the bath water to ripple, and cause the golden ripples on the walls to dance even vibrantly.

Ember leaned back in her metal stool, took another sip of her cider then grinned.  “Hey, though I can’t join you in the tub, it’s still kinda fun hanging out with you.”  She swirled the drink in her glass a little as she thought aloud, “Maybe next time, if you want company during one of your soaks, you let me know.”

Wade smiled big, a happy tear or two leaked from his eyes and into the bath water.  “Yeah, of course.”  He then added, “but you still can’t smoke in the apartment.”

Ember rolled her eyes, “Fine.”  She glanced back over at Wade and asked, “Can I play some music I like then?”

Wade nodded, or what appeared like nodding.  “That’s fair.”

Ember asked the smart speakers to play fireside jazz.  The speakers were now playing the sounds of a crackling fireplace and smooth jazz.  Ember poured another glass of hot cider, leaned back, enjoyed the music, and watched as Wade closed his eyes and basically disappeared into the bubble bath.

Once realizing that Wade fell asleep in the bath, Ember silently cracked open the bathroom door, lit a cigarette, took a deep inhale, and blew the cigarette smoke out the door and into the hallway.

[mewwile]

So I woke up very tired and was taking a bath cuz sometimes the novel stimulus of hot water perks me up(also my legs were sore) and I was just. Laying there with my eyes closed, taking in the sun from the window.

Suddenly I noticed one of the floaty things in my eye was tall with a dark top like a pin, so I decided to move it around by glancing around with my eyes closed. I had fun but eventually it drifted out of my vision so I carried on.

Later I was letting the tub drain and was laying there with my eyes closed again(sleepy) and noticed it had come back! I got so excited I peeked my eyes open enough to see the bathtub and started to show it around, like, moving my eyeball so it moved too. I showed it the faucet and the wall and the overflow drain thing, and pretended it was a brush and looked up and down real quick to brush it in and out of the faucet. I decided it deserved to see outside so I looked up to the window and was like see? That's the sun, it's bright today huh?

And then I realized I was giving an A PARTICLE IN MY EYEBALL a tour of my bathtub like it was a small animal that had never seen the outside world before and decided I needed to finish up and go nap because what? What??

[zappedbyzabka]

CK secret santa gift to @libertinepast

Hope you like it dear!!💗

Water peril, jealousy, and angst.

Daniel’s tired, extremely so. He hasn’t slept in…forty-eight hours? Wait, no. He woke up on Saturday morning, and now it’s Monday evening. So, sixty-something hours? He doesn’t know and can’t even begin to do the math in this state. It’s not as if he meant to keep himself up this long, but he’s been so busy with work and teaching the class that he hasn’t had time to sleep, and when he does, he feels too stressed to.

And, if he’s being honest, it’s not just those things keeping him up at night, it’s also that ever since Jimmy’s been around, Johnny has had no time for him, everything’s “Jimmy this, Jimmy that.” and Daniel is sick of hearing that name, sick of seeing Johnny smile bright as the sun every time he sees him and laugh at all the man's stupid, stupid jokes like they’re the most hilarious thing he’s ever heard. God, He sounds like a jealous boyfriend, and they’re not even dating! But…what’s so great about Jimmy? Why him? Why not Daniel?

What makes it even worse is that Johnny has been living with Daniel for over a month, which has somehow made him fall more in love with the blond.

Daniel drags a hand down his face with a groan, laying his head back against the chair, he desperately needs to shower. He looks over to where Johnny is soundly sleeping on the couch, he looks peaceful like this, quiet unlike when he’s awake, Daniel still wonders how someone so pretty can be so very obnoxious.

Daniel stands up reluctantly and heads to the bathroom, woozy with exhaustion, and looks in the mirror when he gets there; he looks like a zombie, with his sunken eyes, chapped lips, and pale face, people have been telling him all day that he looks sick. He feels sick, not just with exhaustion, but jealousy too.

He sighs, then heads over to the bathtub, plugs the drain, turns on the water, and pours in his lavender bath salts, the scent already making him feel a little more relaxed.

He lets the bath fill up a little more than halfway, then quickly strips off his clothes and puts them in the hamper, before getting in the tub; the water is the perfect temperature, just on the border of too hot, and steamy

He closes his eyes and sinks down deeper into the tub, sighing contently, idly running his fingers through the water, and resting the side of his head against the wall.

He feels so relaxed, more than he has in days, and as he slowly falls asleep, he tells himself he’ll only rest his eyes for one more minute.

He sinks deeper.

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

Johnny startles awake, desperately gasping for air, panic coursing through his veins, the ghost of arms tight around his neck, and the feeling of his lungs burning for oxygen haunting him. He had that nightmare again, the one about Kreese choking him in the dojo, with Robby laying on the floor a few feet away from them. It always goes as it did in real life, except this time Daniel doesn't save him. He stands there and watches, looking down at him with a cruel smirk that Johnny has never seen on his face before.

"This is what you deserve. You know that, right?" he had said, kneeling down next to Johnny. "Don't fight it. Nobody will miss you anyway."

Johnny wipes the sweat off his forehead and looks over at the clock, which is shining "7:03" in bright red. Daniel should be home. 

He stands up and walks upstairs to Daniel's room and knocks; no answer. He opens the door, pausing at the sound of running water, thinking about leaving and giving Daniel privacy. It's just as he's about to turn around and leave that he notices water leaking from the cracked open door of the bathroom; he immediately runs over and slams open the door.

The entire bathroom floor is covered in water, spilling from the overflowing bathtub. Why the fuck is the faucet still on? He trudges through the water to turn it off, and goes pale, panic and dread filling him once again when he sees Daniel, fully submerged and motionless.

He wastes no time, and grabs Daniel, pulling him out of the tub, laying him on his back, and tilting his chin up. He puts his ear up to Daniel's chest; a heartbeat, faint, but thankfully there. He looks at Daniel's pale face for a moment, before pinching Daniel's nose closed and covering his blue, cold lips with his own, blowing air into his mouth.

Johnny nearly cries in relief when Daniel begins coughing, hacking up water violently. Johnny sits him up and pats his back hard.

"There you go, man, you're alright," he says soothingly, letting Daniel rest against him when he finally stops coughing.

"Wha-what happened?" Daniel wheezes, gripping Johnny's hoodie tight.

"You tell me. I came in here and the floor was soaked, and you were just...laying there," Johnny explains, rubbing Daniel's back absentmindedly, gently.

Daniel clears his throat weakly. "Guess I fell asleep..." 

Johnny slaps Daniel over the head. "Yeah, I know why! It's because you've been working too much just so you can avoid me." 

Daniel pulls away and rubs his head with a wince, opening his mouth as if to dispute that claim but just breaks into another coughing fit.

Johnny sits up and reaches to grab a towel, putting it over Daniel's lap. "I really thought you were dead, Daniel."

Daniel adjusts the towel hurriedly as if only just remembering that he's stark naked. "I'm sorry, okay? Just go so I can get dressed." he chokes.

Johnny scoffs and stands up, grabbing Daniel's clothes off the counter and handing them to him. "No way, I'm staying in here to make sure you don't keel over and die suddenly. 

Daniel glares up at him and takes the clothes, rolling his eyes. "Fine. Can you drain the bath, please?" he asks, holding onto the rim of the tub as he tries to stand up.

Johnny grabs his hand and helps him, putting a hand on his shoulder to keep him steady on his feet. "Sure, but while I'm doing that, I want you to tell me why the hell you've been avoiding me,"

"I haven't! The dealership has just been really busy lately, not everything is about you, Johnny," he exclaims defensively.

Johnny unplugs the drain and turns to look at him pointedly. "No, it hasn't. Wanna know how I know that? Because Amanda told me! Said she was worried about you and asked if I knew what was going on. Just spill it, LaRusso, you want me to move out or something?"

"I-" Daniel starts, then cuts himself off with a sigh, dropping his shoulders as he slips on his pants. "I don't want you to move out. It's just... ever since Jimmy came back around, he's all you talk about, and- and I'm sick of hearing it."

"What? So I'm not allowed to talk about My friends now?"

Daniel scoffs. "Please, with the way you act around him, I'd guess you two are more than friends,"

Johnny raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "You have a problem with two men being together, Daniel? Is that it?" Johnny challenges.

"No! I just wish you were with me, not him!" Daniel blurts out, then widens his eyes, blood draining from his face.

Johnny drops his hands. "What?"

Daniel grits his teeth. "Just forget it." 

Johnny sniffs and looks to the side. "I wish I were with you too," he murmurs.

"Stop messing with me, Johnny."

Johny sighs exasperatedly, then walks up to Daniel, grabs his face, and kisses him.

Daniel gasps, which just allows Johnny to slip his tongue inside his mouth, swirling his tongue around his.

Daniel moans, chasing Johnny's mouth when he pulls away.

"Still think I'm messing with you?"

Daniel shakes his head, stunned. Johnny gives him a small, almost sweet smile.

"Me and Jimmy aren't even together, dickhead. Don't avoid me like that again, I thought...I thought you were sick of me," Johnny swallows and looks down. "I was scared."

Daniel frowns empathetically, pulling Johnny in for a hug. "I'm sorry, I promise I won't."

Johnny rests his head on Daniel's shoulder. "Good. Now let's get you to the hospital like we should have done ten minutes ago," he says, grabbing Daniel's hand and dragging him out the door.

Despite almost dying, Daniel's the least stressed he's been all month.