#cause warm places usually have tons of bugs

[mylittlesecrethaven]

Just Found Out Jamil's Afraid Of Bugs. Kinda Cool We Share That In Common, But Kinda Weird That A Guy Who Lives In A Literal Desert Is Afraid Of Bugs

[skylarsblue]

Random Our Life Headcanons

Cove:  -He’s terrified of large flying bugs. Like cicadas and beetles. -He has a real bad concept of time, which often leads to him staying up too late, spending too much time on one thing, etc. -Unless he just happens to see it on TV, he’ll never get around to shows/movies you suggest. It’s not intentional, he just always forgets.  -Cove cannot handle sour food. 

Derek: -Derek is obviously the sporty type, but he’s also a book worm. He owns tons of books. He’ll read just about anything. If it’s raining or it’s too cold to go out, he likes sitting with tea and a sweater. He likes to truly immerse himself in whatever book he’s reading. -He’s kind of a mom friend. He always carries bandaids, tylenol, etc. If he has his bag with him, it probably has some water bottles and snacks in it. -He actually needs reading glasses, but he only wears them when he’s reading books, and he stops needing them by the time he’s 18. -While he much prefers loose clothing and warm weather, during older seasons, he enjoys big sweaters and fluffy blankets.

Baxter: -He struggles with caffeine addiction. Several times, he’s managed to get off things like coffee and energy drinks, stick to water or tea. And then he falls right back into it. -Baxter can eat about anything, but he can’t stand green beans. Ever since he was a kid, he could never stand them. -He’s actually really good at cooking, his specialty usually falls into soups. You sick? Have him make you chicken noodle soup. You’ll never be able to go back to the canned stuff. -He’s always dreamed of having and driving a motorcycle, but he doesn’t know how to ride a bike, and honestly at this point? He’s afraid to ask. Lizzie: -While she’s decent at cooking, she cannot bake. No matter how hard she tries, what recipe she uses, it always turns out wrong. Most often times, it comes out burnt. -Lizzie can actually play the harmonica. She had a real intense obsession with it when she was around 8-11. So now she’s very good at it. -She has oddly remarkable hearing. About nothing gets past her, purely because she’ll hear it coming. Sometimes she uses it to mess with people. -The amount of spice she likes in her food is ridiculous. She’d add spice to desserts if someone didn’t stop her. Pamela: -The main reason you can’t have pets, is because Pamela has bad fur allergies. But as for things like reptiles? She’s creeped out by them. Fish might be okay, but she usually worries that someone would forget to feed them. -While she doesn’t really believe in ghosts, for some reason, paranormal-based horror movies scare her the worst. -While she’s an excellent driver, for some reason, she’s been in the most wrecks/accidents. She just has the worst luck in cars it seems. -Before meeting Noelani in college, she actually didn’t know how to swim, and avoided places like the beach out of embarrassment.

Noelani: -Noelani is actually pretty artistic. She decided to ditch paint when she got MC and Lizzie, so it wouldn’t end up all over the couch or something. But she still really enjoys coloring with her kids.| -She can’t stand most alcohol unless it’s very fruity. But the ones she hates the most is whiskey, tequila, and vodka. She says they taste like paint stripper. -She’s actually the cleaner and most organized between herself and Pamela. But she’s not the type to get angry if she comes home to a mess. She actually finds the process of cleaning therapeutic. -While Pamela is great at it, she is awful at keeping track of time. She has about a 30 alarms set just to remind her of basic things. Miranda: -She struggles letting go of things, because a lot of the time, she finds sentimental value in them. It’s why she still has so many stuffed animals, even if they’re clearly dirty or damaged. -Miranda can rarely find jewelry she can wear cause she has an allergy, she needs metals that are hypoallergenic or just straight plastic. It’s why she prefers bead bracelets/necklaces. -She can’t dance for the life of her, but it never stops her anyways. -She has a very selective memory. Will she remember a very important date? Possibly, if you remind her enough. Will she remember half the lessons she got from school? Not at all. But every sign in her cousin’s astrology chart? For some reason, yeah!

Terry: -Terry can’t stand sitting in silence. It makes him jumpy, paranoid even. He needs some kind of white noise. Problem is, he’s also easily distracted. -No one knows why, but he is obsessed with crustaceans. Lobsters, crabs, etc. He finds them very fascinating for some reason. -Back when he was younger, he was great at timed reading, and was honestly a few grades above of the rest of his class. Now? It’s rare to see him reading much of anything. He can’t find something that holds his attention. -Terry actually doesn’t like sweets all that much. Occasionally, yeah. But most of the time he prefers salt/savory food. Cliff: -This man can speak fluently in spanish, purely because it was one of the only classes he actually enjoyed in school. -While it got better, he used to have super bad asthma as a kid. Which is part of the reason he likes getting out and being active now, he missed out on quite a lot as a kid. -He loves the ocean but he absolutely hates eels. They freak him out. -Cliff has a low alcohol tolerance, surprisingly. You’d think he’d have a better tolerance from being so taller or his “training” in college. But no. About three beers and he’s drunk. Kyra: -She grew up with dogs, but Kyra is actually more of a cat person. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t like dogs though. Her dream cat is a maine coon. -Kyra’s the one Cove got the bad eyesight from. Though she usually uses contacts, since she feels glasses often get in the way. -She loves trying new foods from places, and she often tries to support local restaurants. Even if she didn’t like the first dish she got from a place, she’ll still gives them a shot a few more times before deciding she won’t go anymore. -Brand loyalist? Nah, the opposite. There are some brands she will utterly refuse to buy. Usually it’s because the corporation has done something bigoted.

Lee: -While you’d never expect it, she actually really likes alternative/punk music. Though for the most part, she’s willing to listen to any genre. -Do not even try to make her watch a horror movie with you, she will outright refuse. Lee can’t stand them, she’s often prone to nightmares. -Lee went through a phase where she wanted a tongue ring, but then she saw how they were actually done, and quickly decided she didn’t want too.  -Lee is actually pretty skilled at skating. She likes going to skate parks and busting out her roller blades, though she often gets her knees scraped up too. 

[kokiseiko]

Astral Binding | Part 1

Shouta Aizawa x Reader: Supernatural AU

Word Count: 1.2k +

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Pairing: (?)Villain!Aizawa x Reader

Rating: SFW | 13+

Warnings: Kissing, Strange Beings, Feeling of Being Watched, ¿Paranoia?

Summary: You’re concerned with how your colleague-now-boyfriend is acting much more strangely these days.

Note: This is my piece for @chaoticyuna’s Summerween Event. This will have a second part, and maybe a third? It really depends if my brain and the story’s pacing cooperate with me.

I’d like to thank @nire-chann for helping me form and polish my plot in this piece and for beta-reading it together with @saudade-mayari​ | @yourgoddessselene​ 😘💙

The pairing and title will make sense on the next part(s).

Reaching for the eye drops on his bedside table, he slowly opened the cap, dropping some on his bloodshot eyes. He shouldn’t have overused his quirk during the commotion on the area he was assigned to patrol last night.

Sighing, he went ahead and move towards the bathroom to shower quickly, ignoring the strange bugging feeling acclimating inside his gut.

The hot splashes of liquid that trickled down his body eased the knots and sore muscles from the hits he took with that villain.

Refusing to open the blinds due to the irritation that the sudden intrusion of sunlight causes to his already dry eyes, the dimly lit room is filled with dancing shadows as he continues to dress in his hero attire.

Now walking along the halls of the UA building wanting to get some files- and maybe spend his morning with you- before class starts, strands of hair begin to stand above his nape. His stomach once again wrenching with nerves. Strides are becoming much quicker than usual.

Security measurements are strict. It’s impossible to enter the building without the staff being notified.

The thought of being followed is becoming unbearable. Looking around the cobalt blue-coated walls of the halls, the erasure hero saw nothing out of the ordinary, but that feeling of being watched never faded.

***

Opening the door to the faculty room, he spots you on one of the corners of the premises, humming to a tune in your head while making coffee for two.

You perked up when you saw him, your smile urging his mouth to twitch upwards.

“Shou! Coffee?”

Taking the cup from your hand, he nods, thanking you with a kiss on the cheek. You both proceed to sit on your desks, having the usual morning chat on each other’s lesson plans for his homeroom class.

“I was thinking of giving them a no-quirk combat training on Wednesday til’ Friday. What do you think?”

“Sounds good.”

His small reassuring smile for you suddenly turned into a tight line. Shouta’s head is suddenly pounding, and a foreign feeling is similar to being dipped into the depths of the unmerciful tides of the oceans. It vanishes as quickly as it came. No one seemed to notice, not even you.

***

The week felt longer than it usually does now that he had time alone inside his dim room. His thoughts are the only ones entertaining him whilst his body is laid underneath his white sheets.

Maybe it was the tons of reports he needed to make due to the commonly occurring accidents with 1-A during training. Or was it the tons of files he needed to arrange?

Perhaps the week felt like a play in slow motion because of the reoccurring feeling in his gut.

Head spinning. Fading in and out of vignette. Thoughts weren’t helping him to anchor to consciousness. He hears a symphony of whispers whilst feeling uncomfortable with the contrast of the delicate touches of warm, calloused hands tracing all over the surface of the bubbling sweat on the surface of his moistening skin.

Like imprisoned in a non-existent bind of ropes, his mind battles an unexplainable intrusion, a feeling of throbbing then bursting pain filling the seams of his every nerve.

Shouta feels like he’s losing, a replay of memories filling his retinas as his eyes were forced shut.

***

Despite a good few weeks that passed, Shouta’s been fighting every night while feeling being watched. It had taken a toll on his mind. Cold sweat stains are what greets him every morning, along with his more than usual dry eyes.

His limbs felt like he had gone through an intense sparring session, joints aching and popping as he stretches them.

---

He had finally found a suitable vessel. Snickering while he sees the composure of his subject crumbling into rough sand. No worries though, it’ll be a few more months before his absence is sensed once more, and he’ll be ordered to go back. He’ll savor every moment of chaos from what this may become.

He licks his lips, entertained by the paranoia that the man he’s been observing from the shadows is experiencing. Soon. He’ll be ripe enough. After all, he has been using his body for mischief every night.

---

Now sitting in the soft covers of the sofa in the teacher’s lounge, you went over to what happened earlier. Sipping coffee while conversing early in the morning was almost like a routine for you two, so you were obviously shocked when Shouta suddenly lashed out at you after questioning how’s his patrol last night.

Maybe he just had a rough night? No. That won’t explain how strange he acts lately.

You decide that maybe you’ll offer to have a joint patrol later. More time to spend together with him, plus you might be able to talk about it and offer help on whatever’s bothering him- it’s a win-win!

As usual, the day continues. Your mock-battle training in the second-years of the hero course in the mornings was splendid since no one got any severe injuries and needed to go to Recovery Girl. All were cautious and up on their feet, as they were battling with the third years’ “Big Three.” Your second-years lost, but it was by a small margin.

Now cradling your third cup of coffee this day -it helps keep you alert during patrol- your eyes lands on the clock on the wall, taking note of the time your orbs begin to search for that familiar yellow that usually lays atop the couch or near the corner of the room.

You frown. It’s the fourth time this week. That’s unusual. He always follows his nap routine in the lounge at this hour.

Placing your coffee tumbler atop your desk, you checked every corner of the campus in the following hour, searching for your boyfriend.

---

Locked in the suffocating walls of a storage room near the dorms, his vision was spinning as he fights off the invisible force that was penetrating his mind and hitting his body every now and then.

He hacks a cough as he was punched in the gut by the shadow, his knees buckling from the force of the succeeding attacks.

Kneeling at the floor, unable to stand, hands palm down, doing his best to support his weight and not wanting to lose from whatever this being might be. Still, the moment of weakness displayed upon the gleaming eyes on the wall made the figure lick its lips, savoring the exhibit of ragged breaths full of frustration, tinged with fear, and wracking with dizzying anticipation.

---

You sigh in relief as your search finally ends near the dorms. You ran towards the black mass exiting the storage room.

“Shou! I was looking all over the campus for you!”

He smiles. Wait, what? Simply humming as if he’s amused with something, you ignored the devilishly handsome smirk that was now plastered upon his face.

“Yeah? And why does this pretty kitty went looking for her… Eraserhead?”

You blushed. His tone had a different ring that made your stomach feel funny. You’re feeling odd. Shouta wasn’t one for pet names, nor PDA for that matter, even when you’re both alone in a public place, especially on campus.

“Well, I was wondering if you’d like to spend patrol with me?”

“Sure princess, meet you at 10 near the gates?”

“Yeah, su- mmph!”

Kissing was a no no in public. You both agreed to that. Something’s definitely going on, right?

[fbfh]

sal fisher cuddling/affection headcanons [sally face x reader]

First of all: so fucking touch starved

Ik we’re all thinking it

You have to ease into giving him physical affection even though he wants tons of it all the time

Once a little while after you started dating he tried to cuddle with you like cats do where you’re just kind of tangled together and flopped on top of each other

You started to play with his hair 

“Do that more”

After a minute you realized your shoulder was damp

“Are you good?”

“Yeah,” his voice cracked and you could tell he was crying pretty hard

“I can stop if it’s too-”

“No, I want this - I…” 

You knew what he ment

It was like a hot bath

It’s nice and relaxing once you’re in there, but if you get into the water too fast it’s too hot

You knew him well enough at this point to know what he was thinking

He doesn’t want you to feel bad

He was frustrated with himself cause he wants kisses and cuddles so why is he getting overwhelmed?????? 

It’s like putting lotion on really dry skin

It’s moisturizing and nice and fixes the problem but it also hurts until it heals enough to not hurt

You get into a different position so you’re sitting close to him 

“Baby steps”

You toss your arm around him and rest your head on his shoulder

He’s okay with that

It takes a while for him to warm up but dude once he does

Ajhf;adkjsldk 

Smwn described him as a cat boyfriend and

Yup

That’s it

He still feels rlly weird abt his prosthetic 

He’s working through it but it takes time yk

But a lot of times either in public or whatever when he’s wearing it  the way he gives you a kiss is rlly cute

He just kind of presses the bottom part of the mask on your cheek or head and makes a little kiss noise 

If you kiss his cheek when his prosthetic is on he’ll blush so hard his ears go pink

Basically you not acting weird or uncomfy makes him feel a lot less weird and uncomfy

But not like ignoring it or pretending it’s not there either

Just like being accepting is 

[chef’s kiss]

Amazing

He loves hugs a really really lot

He missed out on a lot of hugs and hand holding and is eager to catch up

Another way he gives affection when he’s wearing his prosthetic is by squeezing your hand

It’s like a non face peck 

You usually let him set the tone for what he’s comfy with cause you know

Overcoming a lifetime of trauma isn’t really linear

So some days you hold/squeeze hands a lot and some days it’s kisses and a couple days when he’s over at your place (which he is a lot) he doesn’t even wear it

Like we all know how chill he is

Like hey arnold levels of chill

But not when it comes to kisses and cuddles

No way dude

Ohmygod don’t even get me started on doing his hair

He wore pigtails to keep his prosthetic up and ended up liking them as a style thing too

You do all kinds of hairstyles on him when yall are in the mood to

Space buns

Braids

You gave him ariana grande hair and he just went apeshit 

This happened

He kind of rubs against you like a cat

Also if gizmo likes you

Sweet baby jesus

He falls harder

Which surprises him honestly

He loves resting his head on your tummy

He thinks it’s so cute when he can hear the little gurgles

Loves resting his head in your lap too

Just kind of hugs yr thigh and chills there

Almost falls asleep like 75% of the time 

He thinks you haven’t noticed

You have 

shhh

You sometimes rub his back or arm if your hand is free

He loves the way you smell

Even when you’re not wearing perfume or cologne or body spray or anything

Just your personal blend of body wash and laundry detergent and shampoo make his heart go !!! c:

Once he gets rlly comfy he starts to forget when yall are in public

Like once the gang was in the courtyard before school

He just plopped down w his head in yr lap

You started tracing shapes on his arm like usual

Everyone else was a lil confused but rolled w it cause you seemed normal

It makes them really happy when they see you and Sal being any kind of touchy or cuddly cause they know you’re taking good care of each other 

Especially of him

But yeah

Absolute snuggle bug

Bls be gentle w him

requests r open uwu

[kairos-ed]

Obese anas let's start a thread!

Skin care! Food diaries! Hair care! People who have to lose 50-100+ pounds need a completely different regime from those who have to lose 10-20+ pounds.

Here's all I have learnt and added to my routine.

1) Use an exfoliator every day. EVERYDAY.

I use three different exfoliators alternatively.

This is my routine. I have two gentle exfoliators and one harsher exfoliator.

Monday & Thursday - Turmeric + Besan +Milk/Yogurt/Curd with a little coconut oil (you can use any carrier oil). This helps with brightening your skin and has helped me lighten the discoloration of the back of my neck (poc anas you know what I'm talking about), my underarms and my inner thighs, overweight/obese bodies are more prone to discoloration caused by chafing and rubbing of skin and this helps sooooo much. You can look up different youtube videos to find the recipe and DON'T TRUST THE VIDEOS WHICH SAY YOU CAN STORE IT. you can't store it if you've already added milk or yogurt to it, but you can store it if you've only mixed the dry ingredients. I just put the stuff needed for them in my bedroom so I don't have to go to the kitchen constantly. Don't store dry ingredients for more than a month cause it'll attract bugs. If it gets bugs then you don't necessarily have to throw it out, you can sieve it and use it again.

Tuesday & Friday - Oatmeal scrub. GRIND THE OATMEAL INTO A POWDER. Don't grind it too fine but till it looks like rice powder, properly grinded but still coarse. Trust me, grinding it up makes it so much easier to scrub with and it won't clog your drains. I add honey and some milk/water to it. DON'T ADD SUGAR. This is also a gentle exfoliator so adding sugar will make it too harsh and it'll be bad for your skin. I let it sit for 5-10mins so it becomes a paste and then use it to scrub my body.

Wednesday-Saturday - Coffee scrub. This one is the most common one BUT I've found using 2 parts of coffee and one part of sugar instead of the same quantity of both works better. My skin is soft and glowy and it helps with stretch marks. I add vitamin e oil and coconut oil to this (I use a shit ton of oil). And I store this in a glass jar. I make enough for a month at a time and I've had no problems with it being stored for long periods of time.

2) SCRUB YOUR BUTT

I know this is a no brainer but I wanted to add it here either way. I stand in my shower and scrub my ass cheeks and back rolls for 5 mins every day, it helps with toning the skin and lightens the strech marks you have back there and helps you avoid loose skin. I know our favourite thing to scrub is our stomach and boobs (if you have em) but give your butt and back rolls some love too, your thighs need to get exfoliated too. I usually relax in the shower for a few mins with the scrub on too. Idk monkey brain says wait for it to work.

3) DITCH YOUR LOTIONS

I know I know, we have all seen the ads saying they work BUT we have a LOT OF BODY, lotions are expensive and gets soaked up by your clothes or evaporates immediately. Use body oils instead, they stick to your skin the whole day and you can SAVE BANK. I make my own body oil with coconut oil + black castor oil + olive oil + peppermint oil and vitamin e oil but you add whatever you feel like to it. Oils help a lot more than lotions.

4) BODY DYSMORPHIA/GENDER DYSPHORIA GANG I GOT YOU.

I have both of these and sometimes depression makes it hard for me to look at my own body. I skip getting a shower when it gets too bad and I know exactly how it feels like to not shower for weeks. During these slumps I have made it a rule to shower atleast once every 3 days. I know it's not hygienic to not shower everyday but I also hate my body don't come @ me. I use EXFOLIATING GLOVES to wash my body (even when I'm using my diy scrubs). They clean me better than just using my hands and soap or a loofah. I use the gloves as scrubs and this has helped me with skin infections caused by not showering (I said don't come @ me). I also only use anti bacterial/fungal shower gels now. They help kill any bacteria growth which happened on your body during the time you didn't shower. I have stopped using loofahs cause the net is bunched up so it becomes a breeding ground for bacteria especially cause you might not use it for long periods of time between showers cause of the absolute chaos in my brains.

4) HAIR CARE

We will lose hair. It's gonna be fine! Use peppermint oil with a carrier oil, I use black castor oil. It helps stimulate your hair follicles. Onion oil is great too, I've found that coconut oil makes me lose the hair on my head so I steer clear from it. Oil atleast once every 3 days and let it stay over night. It makes your follicles stronger and nourishes your hair.

5) PEDICURES

We will sweat a lot and during this time you need to take extra care of your feet, do diy pedicures atleast once a week and wash your shoes every weekend too. ALWAYS wear socks.

Fungal infections are a real thing people.

6) SUNDAY ROUTINE.

You might have noticed that I don't have a scrub for Sunday and it's because I have a completely different routine for Sundays. Its my pamper yourself routine. I use SKIN TIGHTENING AND FIRMING FACE MASKS BUT! ALL OVER MY BODY. I stole this from Alexandra girly talks. I use Aztec indian clay and white clay with Apple cider vinegar for this. I make a paste and sit with it for an hour. It might seem like a lot but honestly I just watch bobs burgers and the time flies by. I have also used stuff like orange peel (NOT PEEL OFF) face masks, and other face masks on my body. It helps with avoiding loose skin.

7) IF ITS GOOD FOR YOUR FACE IT'S GOOD FOR YOUR BODY.

TONER! USE TONER ON YOUR SKIN! I have a mini shower in the morning too, it's not a whole ass routine but I just wet my body with warm water and let the steam open my pores and just clean myself with water essentially (I don't really need to use soap again cause I shower at night and I live in a hot place so taking a shower twice isn't a big deal) I then use toner (use any liquid toner and put it in a foaming pump and use the foam it's easier) all over my body and then use sunscreen and oil. (Yeah I oil my body twice a day). I do this before going out so that the sunscreen protects my skin.

I'll add more when I think of more stuff. Add to this if you have anything!!

[rainydayhogwartsimagines]

May i please please please get a AU universe type piece with Fred and y/n . Y/n is a muggle who’s either a Friend or cousin of Hermione’s who comes to visit during break and they are all at the burrow spending time together and y/n and Fred really start to like each other. They just seem to click and can’t stop flirting with each other. The fluffier the better ♥️.

You were a cousin of Hermione. Basically, you were now living with her. The sad truth? Your parents found out your brother wasn’t normal and basically told Hermione’s parents “By the way, we give up, here’s our kid.” You of course were pissed and took off with him. So there you were, standing in Hermione’s house when a boy knocked on her door. He seemed to be nice, his red hair being all roughed up. “Who’s this?” The boy asked. “My cousins, Y/n and Adam.” Hermione introduced. “Oh, hi! I’m Ron.” He greeted. “Adam is a wizard.” Hermione said. “I got the short end of the stick.” You said, making your brother snort. “What?” Ron asked. “She’s not a wizard.” Hermione said. “Oh. Are they coming with you?” Ron asked. “Uh... Well Y/n will Adam is unpacking and antisocial.” Hermione said. “Going where?” You asked. “The burrow.” Ron said. “The what now?”

The Borrow would be a place you’d come to absolutely adore. When you arrived, Molly showered you with love and affection. Arthur of course asked a ton of questions, his first question being “What’s the function of a rubber duck”. But the thing that caught your interest immediately wasn’t an object or a spell. Oh no. It was a boy. He had the same red hair that all the Weasleys’ had, along with those brown eyes that made you scream internally. His sense of humor combined with the lookalike he always spent time with caused this reaction. To just randomly flirt with him. It was simply out of panic. You were speaking your mind but it was always passed off as a one liner and a joke. Fred seemed to enjoy the little thing you two had going so you never corrected him. He always looked for excuses to be around you, seeing if you needed help with anything in general. The moment though, he could recognize his attraction was when you were sitting under a tree with Crookshanks in your lap. You weren’t reading or anything, just looking at the sky with a cat in your lap as you leaned against the base of the tree. 

Fred sat next to you and you smiled at him. “Hello Fred.” You said, Crookshanks stretching before scurrying off. “Having a pleasant time?” He asked. “Mm. Even better now that you’re here.” You chuckled. He smiled, looking at you. “Any particular reason why you’re just sitting out here?” Fred asked. You looked around you, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I live out in the city... So it’s not often I can really hear nature around me. I just... Wanted to have a moment of listening” You said to him. He rose a brow. “it’s the same old field for miles...” he said. “To you maybe. To me this is freeing.” You said looking at the sky through the leaves under the tree. “How so?” He asked. “Home isn’t exactly the greatest place. I live with Hermione now because my parents gave up on my brother.” You explained. “What do you mean ‘gave up’?” Fred asked. “Him being a wizard was too complicated so they basically abandoned him. So I left with him.” You shrugged. “That’s fucked up.” Fred said. “That’s muggle parenting.” You muttered. “Do you hate it?” Fred asked. “What?” You asked. “Being a muggle?” He asked, moving next to you. “Yes... I mean My brother has access to this whole other world. And I’m just... here.” You muttered. “Y/n you’re... You’re more than just here.” He assured. “I know it’s just... Hard. Right now. To be there for everyone.��� you muttered. Fred noticed the closed book next to you with a loose page. “What’s that?” Fred asked. “A letter. From my brother.” You muttered. “is he your older brother?” He asked. “Younger.” You corrected. “Mm. Y’know I am the older twin.” He said making you smile. “By how long?” You asked. “Thirteen minutes.” He said proudly making you laugh. He smiled at that beautiful sound and then noticed something else. “What are you making there?” Fred asked, nodding to the chain of flowers tied together. “Oh it’s a flower crown.” You said. “How did you make that?” He asked. “Oh... Well it’s uh.. Actually pretty easy, come on!” you said grabbing his hand and pulling him towards a patch of flowers in the open field. 

You tied them together carefully demonstrating it to Fred before plopping the small creation on his head. He chuckled and picked a small flower, putting it behind your ear. You felt your cheeks warm up and you smiled, looking down. “So uhm... What do you guys do for fun around here?” You asked. “Well, Hermione reads, Ron and Harry play chess, George and I tend to just work. Unless it’s night. Then I stargaze.” He said. “You never read?” You asked. “Nope. Not really big on it.” He said. “Why?” You asked. “uhhm... Never really caught my interest I guess.” He answered as he pondered. “What about you?” He asked. “Well I usually watched TV or read.” You answered with a shrug. He put the flower crown on your head and you laughed. “Then again I used to bug the shit out of my brother for fun.” You said. “Why isn’t he here?” Fred asked. “He doesn’t like to be around people. Really antisocial.” you said. “You two close?” Fred asked. “As we can be.” You answered. The wind seemed to pick up a little, blowing your hair just enough to catch Fred’s attention as the sun shined on your face. You were absolute perfection to this boy. 

Why he never said anything genuinely confused the hell out of George. You were now all Fred talked about. Your smile, your laugh, the late night conversations you’d have when you couldn’t sleep and both of you found yourselves outside looking at the stars. When George said “tell her how you feel” it was easier said than done. Every time Fred actually told you how he felt you were genuinely oblivious to his confessions. You naturally assumed he was hitting on you, seeing as that was the pattern between you two. One night though, changed everything.

It was another sleepless night, you slipping on your boots and sitting outside with a mug of tea as you looked at the clear sky. How you envied to have something like this at home. You heard someone sit next to you and you looked over, seeing Fred with a mug. “Insomniacs unite.” you said, clinking your mug with his. He chuckled and you looked back at the stars. “It’s pretty tonight.” You said. “In more ways than one.” Fred muttered, looking at you. You chuckled, shaking your head. “If you keep that up Fred I’m going to assume you like me or something.” You laughed. “And if I did?” He asked. “You’re crazy.” You snorted. “am I?” He asked. “Considering you’ve been talking like the Cheshire Cat for the past minute, yes.” You said. “Y/n, what if I did actually like you?” Fred asked. “... That’s quite the joke you’ve got there--” “Merlin’s Beard-- Y/n I’m being sincere here!” He whined. “What?” You asked. “The past few weeks have been me unsuccessfully trying to tell you that I like you. For a girl who knows a lot of one liners, you are surprisingly dense when someone actually likes you.” Fred said. You looked at him with a shocked look. “Oh my god.” You breathed. “Oh my god I am so dumb.” you realized all of the blatantly obvious moments where you had completely missed the signs. “What you’re not dumb--” “No I am-- how the hell have I been so dense-- Oh my god!” You gaped. “Y/n... I’m actually still waiting on an answer?” He said. You blinked. “Oh! Oh right-- I like you too. But God damn am I dumb, how did I not get the pick up lines!?” You answered. Fred snorted, looking at you. “That Cornfield one really flew over your head, hmm?” Fred asked. “Absolutely!” You said facepalming. Fred wrapped his arm around you with a smile as you groaned. “I am SO DUMB. We could’ve been dating for weeks now if I weren’t so fucking stupid.” you whined, making him laugh. “There there. Let it alllll out.” Fred said. “I’m a dumbass. Such a dumbass.” You breathed. “Yes, well now your my dumbass.” He said. You smiled. “I am, aren’t I?” You asked. “Yes you are.” He nodded, looking into your eyes. 

Even though you were a muggle, everything in that moment seemed to be magical. 

Taglist: @amhyeah @newtaholic-staygold @bbeauttyybbx @fleurho @yodeadxss @mariah-can-dream

[depressedkakashihatake-fics]

Injuries Bringing Us Together

Hatake Kakashi/Maito Gai

2028 Words

Kiss: Palm of the Hand kiss

For: @alumort​ @temarihime​ @trekkie-in-space​ (who came up with the beautiful idea of a fic)

Itchy

There was an urge deep down inside of Kakashi’s soul. One that screamed at him to rip off the cast that the medical ninja had just finished putting on his hand after he had destroyed the last one. He was barely able to contain the urge with a reminder that the medical ninja had specifically threatened him with placing him off duty for a month as punishment if he had to come in again for another new cast.

A week was bad enough. If he had to stay in the village for an entire month he was likely to murder someone, and that would just get him into more trouble.

For the first time in his career as a shinobi, Kakashi was actually angry with an enemy because of what they did to him. Not for hurting his teammates, or putting civilians in danger. No, he was used to being mad at enemy shinobi for things like that.

Today though, he was angry about his hand. 

Specifically, about the moment that his enemy had decided to break his hand to prevent him from using his chidori to attack them after they had realized he didn’t actually need to weave signs to produce the electricity in his hand.

That he had a jutsu he could perform even with his hands tied behind his back. 

They were smart, he’d give them that. But that fact didn’t make him hate them any less when the biggest, heaviest member of their team stomped down on his right hand with all of his might, crushing his bones in an instant.

Really, it was a miracle that he had a hand left at all. That his bones hadn’t been reduced to powder under the force of that stomp, and that he had actually been able to force himself to produce a chidori even afterwards.

Though, that last part was sheer force of will. It had taken him 7 different attempts, and a lot of pain. His enemies had even laughed at him when they realized what he was trying to do.

They quickly stopped laughing when electricity started sparking in his hands, and by the time his teammates found him all three of their enemies were unconscious on the ground.

He still wasn’t exactly sure what he had done to manage that, since he had blacked out from the pain somewhere in the middle. Though he was guessing it probably had something to do with his chidori meeting the ground. 

That had been his plan after all, so his body had likely taken over for him when his brain decided to shut down because of the pain he was in. He was just thankful that his teammates had found him before the enemy shinobi were able to wake up. There was no doubt in his mind they would have forgotten about getting him back to Suna for interrogation and decided instead to murder him right where they were.

Not the best way for a shinobi to die.

“Rival!” He recognized the voice immediately, but there was something missing. An overwhelmingly enthusiastic tone seemed to be absent, and that didn’t sit well with Kakashi. He didn’t like it at all. 

Turning towards the voice he looked at the other man as he made his way towards him, and immediately started to scan Gai’s body for any sign of injury. His eyes zeroed in on the brace wrapped around his left bicep all the way down to his wrist.

Now he was worried.

“Rival, i was not expecting y-”

Whatever Gai was going to say was cut off when Kakashi surged forward, invading his personal space in a way he never had before and grabbing his left wrist and brought the injured arm up closer so he could take a better look at the brace.

For the first time since he had gotten home, Kakashi forgot about his own injury. His attention focused instead on Gai as he examined the brace. “What happened?” The question is simple but firm, and he knows it catches Gai off guard. It’s not normal for Kakashi to worry about anyone else when they’re in the village. Injuries happen to everyone. It was a common occurrence in the life of a shinobi.

 But here he was, clearly agitated by Gai’s injury.

“I uh-” Gai closed his eyes and chuckled “I had a bit of a difficult mission with a much more skilled shinobi than I am used to. To win the fight I was forced to open the fifth gate for the first time and- well my body took issue with this.”

There was a reason he hated the eight gates. Ever since seeing Gai open the fourth gate for a mission, and had subsequently torn the muscles in his arm while delivering a deadly blow to their enemies abdomen. As useful as the gates were in a sticky situation, he hated seeing Gai in pain, and anything past the first gate always caused him some amount of pain.

Perhaps that was why Kakashi had stopped learning the gates himself when he had mastered the first gate, though he also didn’t feel the same drive as Gai to open all of them. Not to mention he didn’t think he could learn them all, not like Gai was able to. He didn’t have the same drive and abilities as Gai that allowed him to learn the gates, and part of him was thankful for that.

He had enough working against him with Obito’s sharingan in his eye socket. He didn’t need more help hurting himself from the right gates.

With his hand still clasped firmly around Gai’s wrist, Kakashi scanned over the brace once more. Trying to will it away in his own mind as if that would suddenly remove the injury from Gai.

“Kakashi,” Gai’s voice is soft and full of fondness when he says his name. “I’m fine. The Doctors said that it should be healed in a few days with a mixture of rest and medical ninjutsu.”

“Huh,” It was rare for both of them to be in the village at the same time any other day, but for both of them to have injuries that had them benched from missions for the next few days. That was improbable, and yet here they were. “I guess that means i’ll be seeing you around a bit more than usual.”

Not a situation he was particularly against. Though he was aware he came off as ‘cold’ and ‘dismissive’ of Gai most days, he really wasn’t trying to be. He just had a lot on his mind and it was hard to focus on anything but work and his own self deprecating thoughts when he barely had any time to breath between missions. 

Maybe with some time off together he could make it up to Gai.

“How about a challenge,” The hope of relaxing with his friend during his time off came crashing down on him like a ton of bricks. Why was it that Gai always wanted to do a challenge when they were together? It was always the first thing that he asked for. “We could have a race.”

“With your arm?” Kakashi narrowed his eyes. “The doctors would kill you when you go back to them in worse shape than you left them in. Not a chance, Gai.” And that wasn’t even touching on the fact that his hand was broken and wouldn’t heal properly if he tried to use it in any way. Which did include running, unfortunately. Anything but keeping his hand at his side constantly would cause a fit of pain that he didn’t want to deal with.

“Ok then,” placing a finger against his chin, Gai started to think through his options while Kakashi continued to look over the brace on his left arm. There wasn’t really anything to look over a second time, but he couldn’t seem to drag his eyes away from it. “How about an arm wr- no that won’t work.”

“How about,” Gai’s eyes lit up as soon as Kakashi opened his mouth. It was so rare for the Sharingan user to suggest a challenge for them. “Janken.”

There’s a triumphant look on his face when Gai’s shoulders whole upper body collapses forward as if someone has just set an unbearable weight upon his shoulders. He really did enjoy bugging his friend a little too much some days.

“I’m kidding,” well only partially. “We could do a challenge that’s not too demanding. One that won’t get us in trouble for straining ourselves when we are supposed to be relaxing.”

With new life in his soul, Gai straightened up and beamed at Kakashi. “An eating contest!” He proclaimed, loud enough to catch the attention of everyone within a five meter radius of them. “At the Ramen shop. We have not had the chance to get some ramen together in a long time, rival.”

Food didn’t sound like a terrible idea, and Ramen was certainly a better choice than some of the other things the pair had eaten together in the past.

“Sure, why not,” He could handle a challenge. Especially if it meant spending some time with Gai that didn’t involve running around the village or getting face planted into the dirt in a spar. “But you have to promise to stop eating before you barf this time.”

The last thing either of them needed was Teuchi kicking them out of the shop because Gai made a mess on the floor. It was one of the few places that he liked to eat when he managed to find time to go out with his friends. 

“I will make this promise, but only because i know i’m going to win this time,” As confident as ever, Gai threw his good hand out and gave Kakashi his signature ‘thumbs up’ pose. “And with this victory i will be two points ahead of you in our competitions.”

Ok, now he had to win. There was no way he could let Gai get too far ahead of him in their competition. 

“Mmmm, we’ll see,” releasing his grip on Gai’s arm, Kakashi moved to take a step back only to have Gai reach out with his good hand and stop him. “Gai?”

“I just realized that it might be difficult for you to participate in an eating competition,” Kakashi was about to ask what Gai meant when the Taijutsu user moved his hand down to his wrist and carefully lifted his broken hand between them. It was a bit embarrassing to admit, but he had actually forgotten about his own injury while worrying about Gai. “Do we need to think of another competition, Rival?”

Warm.

There was a warm feeling deep inside of his chest when Gai asked that simple question with soft kind eyes. He couldn’t explain why the feeling had bloomed so suddenly, but he liked it. 

It felt like home.

“I’ll be fine, Turtle,” Using the nickname he had given Gai only a few years ago, he smiled when he saw the way Gai’s eyes widened in surprise. “I’m ambidextrous. I can use my left hand to eat.”

Accepting the answer that he had been given, Gai turned his hand over so that it was facing palm up, and leaned down to press a kiss against the cast. Suddenly, the warm feeling in his chest blossomed into something else.

A feeling he wasn’t quite familiar with, but wasn’t completely new. It was something he always felt when Gai was being particularly soft with him, and he wished he could hold onto that feeling all the time.

Love.

That’s what Kushina-Sensei had called it the first time he described it to her, just days before the nine tails attack on the village. 

“W-we should go,” He cringed when his voice cracked under the pressure of his embarrassment. “We have a competition t-to do.”

Standing up straight, Gai released his hold on Kakashi’s hand and gave him a bright smile. “You are correct,” He stepped forward and threw an arm around Kakashi’s shoulder, turning him 180 degrees and heading down the street. “To Ichiraku Ramen!”

[thepeacetea]

Mine (marijon)

Hi guy! So I was painting today and the song Mine by Taylor Swift came on and I thought it would make a cute marijon story.(Because I love this pair and there is not enough of them) Now I have never written a song fic before, but I tried my best. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy! Peace!

Marinette had finally done it. After four, long years, she had finally graduated high school. For, four years, Lila had continued her reign over the school. She had made good on her threat. No one dared to befriend Marinette, not if they valued their own social lives. Her ‘friends’ from middle school had turned into snakes or just plain abandoned her. She hadn’t hesitated packing her belongings. She didn’t cry when she left Paris a week later. She ignored the fact that her parents hadn’t even said goodbye. Pretending she didn’t see the pitying gazes from the miracle box. She was going to America to study. She didn’t need her family. She didn’t need her ‘friends’.

You were in college, working part-time, waiting tables Left a small town, never looked back I was a flight risk, with a fear of fallin' Wondering why we bother with love, if it never lasts

Meeting Jon had been an accident. A real, hundred percent accident that wasn’t Marinette’s fault, this time. It was still a month until classes started and Marinette had a rare day off from her part-time job as a florist. She had been exploring the old shopping district of the city when it had started to rain. She found this little café, tucked away between a book and an antique store, to duck into to wait out the storm.

The chattering of the patrons seemed to enhance the establish charm the café possessed. The rain beating against the windows, the warm smell of coffee and food, and the gentle hum of conversation, brought a sense of calm Marinette hadn’t felt in a while. She had pulled out her sketch book and just drew. Her designs became warm. Full of soft lines and simple, yet elegant personalities.

The scrapping of chairs brought Marinette out of her sketching. She glance up just in time to see one of the costumers, who hadn’t bothered to look around, abruptly get up and turn into one of the waiters. Marinette had just enough time to shove her sketch book to safety as the tray that was being delivered landed on her. The first thing she notice was that it was soup. Hot soup!

“Oh my gosh! Miss, are yo . .” someone, a guy from the sound of the voice started to asked, but the rest of his question halted as Marinette torn off her shirt in a burst of inhuman speed in an attempt to prevent herself from received worse burns.

It was only after she had thrown her shirt across the café did Marinette did her mind catch up with what she had done. She was standing in the middle of a small, crowded café, with every eye trained on her, shirtless! Petrified, she looked up to meet the bright red face of the waiter as he stared right back at her, trying to avoid looking too far down. The guy was an easy 6’, and in comparison to Marinette’s 5’ 2’ frame, it was impossible. It took five, long seconds for Marinette’s brain to reboot. Snatching her sketch book, she clutched it to her chest in a futile attempt to preserve her modesty. The movement seemed to snap the waiter out of his shock. Jerking his bright blue eyes away from her, he undid his waist apron, giving it to her while he guided Mainette into the back.

“I am so sorry! I didn’t see the guy get up but I should have been paying more attention or I should’ve at least made the tray fall another way and your not hurt are you please tell me you didn’t get burned too badly, I can call an ambulance if you want. I’m such an idiot. I’m so fired. I’m so so so sorry.” He ramble in a panic as he rummaged through a pack, presumably looking for something for her to wear.

“Hey. Hey! It’s ok. It was an accident. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s the guy that bumped into you. You know, I’m just gonna blame it on him. And I’m fine. I got the shirt off before the it could do any damage. The only thing that’s hurting is my pride.” She assured the boy, giving him an encouraging smile as he handed her a shirt. Slipping it on with a word of thanks, she found it, unsurprising, large on her.

“I’m sorry it’s big. It’s all I have.” Blue eye’s said sheepishly, as if he should’ve had a shirt to fit her in his bag. Marinette couldn’t help the giggle that came. This boy reminded her so much of her younger self.

“Hey, it ok. And don’t feel bad. Losing a shirt in public is not the worse or most embarrassing to happen to me.”

The boy still didn’t look convinced or any less guilty. If anything, his face grew even more red at the reminder of the accident.

“Listen, if you really feel that bad, you can make it up to me by showing me around Metropolis. I’m still trying to figure it out.”

“Yeah. I . . . I can do that.” He said, eyes lighting up at the prospect. “I’m Jon by the way.” He said as one of the brightest smiles light up his face.

“Marinette.”

I say, "Can you believe it?" As we're lyin' on the couch The moment, I can see it Yes, yes, I can see it now

“Hey Jon?”

“Hmm?”

“Why do you hang out with me?”

It had been two months since the two of them had met, and Marinette had felt more safe and . . . loved then she had in the last four years. Jon was with her more often then not. For the first few weeks, Marinette had been a little on edge. She hadn’t had much human contact for years, and what she did was all different forms of bullying. But as time wore on, she began to anticipate when she would meet up with him. Most of their free time was spent wandering the city, with Jon showing Marinette all his favorite spots to visit and they surprising found some places he had never been. Other times, he would drop by her work to talk and buy some flowers for his mother. Marinette had eventually talked him into buying a plant for his apartment after she found out how empty it was. According to Jon, it was still thriving. Other times, she would bug him at the café, were she had quick become known by name. They had become close, and that scared her.

“What kinda question is that?”

“It’s a good question. I mean, your amazing and fun to be around and so open that I can only imagine that you would have a ton of friends.  I mean, why spend so much time with me?”

Jon didn’t answer right away. He kept his gaze fixed on the night sky above them, seemingly so absorbed in the stars that managed to peak through the city skyline that it appeared he didn’t hear her. But Marinette knew him well enough to know when he was thinking. Pulling the blanket closer, she snuggled deeper into the burrow they had made on her roof for star gazing. It was a close to ten minutes before he answered

“Your different. Don’t get me wrong, I love my family and other friends, but when I’m with them, they expect me to be a certain way. I have a lot, and I mean a lot to live up to. Both my parents have done so much and I constantly feel this presser to live up to them. And I know I want to. I want to make a difference like they have. I want to help people like they did, and still do.” Jon said, never taking his eyes off the night sky, but Mairnette couldn’t help turning her head to look at her friend. As he spoke, Marinette could understand, she had been in a similar situation not long ago.

“But when I’m with you, it’s as if none of that matters. You’re not expecting me to be like my mom or my dad. I can make mistakes with you and you’re not gonna judge. You’re not gonna think less of me. Honestly, I feel safe with you.” He said, turning to look at her.

Marinette’s heart skipped a beat. She had always known Jon was handsome, but somehow the half-lighting they had made it clear just how much he was. The lighting accented his jawline, causing his babyish face to take on a more mature tone. His blue eyes, which were always behind glasses, where for once free and bare to the world. While they had always been so bright, they had adapted a darker, more alluring blue.

“Well,” Marinette said, clearing her throat slightly. “you have seen me shirtless, so . . .”

“Can you not bring that up, please.” He groaned, throwing his back as he groaned.

“Oh, come on, it’s funny!” Marinette exclaimed, laughter bubbling over in a joyous peel at the sight of his embarrassment.

“No, it’s not! My co-workers still tease me about it.”

“Think about this way, Jon. If that never happened, we never would have met.”

“Well when you put it that way.” Jon sassed, causing Marinette’s laughter to grow as his chuckles joined in.

“Jon,” Marinette said when she regained her breath, “. . . I’m glad you’re my friend.”

“So am I.”

Do you remember, we were sittin', there by the water? You put your arm around me for the first time You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter You are the best thing, that's ever been mine

If Marinette had to tell someone when things started to change between her and Jon, she would always say it was that night on the roof. But it wasn’t until early November that officially changed. It was the weekend before Thanksgiving and the two of them where by Metropolis Bay enjoying one of the last few nice days before winter came. Marinette was going on about one of the customers at the flower shop.

“They wanted an original Thanksgiving center piece. And I was trying to tell her the owner was out and any special orders have to go through her. But she just kept insisting that I could do it. And I was trying to explain to her that one: I cannot do special order, if it’s in the catalogue, I can to it. But if not, I can’t. The owner wants make sure make sure of the quality. And second: Even if I was allowed, I couldn’t because I know next to nothing about Thanksgiving because we don’t celebrate it in France.”

She hadn’t noticed how quiet Jon was, usually he was just as talkative as she was if not more. But today he was very distracted.

“And then . . .”

“Marinettedoyouwanttocometomygrandparentsfarmforthanksgiving!”

“ . . .What?”

“Marinette, do you want to come to my grandparent’s farm for Thanksgiving?” Jon asked again. “Thing is, um, Grandma made a rule that we have to bring any potential girlfriends back for a holiday and . . .”

“. . .  girlfriend?”

“Yeah, um, Marinette. Do, no. This isn’t how I planned it.” Jon stuttered, his face almost a red as when they first met. “Ok. I like you, Marinette. Like, a lot. I honestly have never met anyone like you. Your funny, sarcastic but you don’t over do it, kind , creative, and I, I thought someone like you couldn’t exist And what I’m trying to say is, will you go out with me?”

Marinette had never seen Jon this distraught. His hands seemed to have a mind of their own, constantly running through his hair until it looked he had been flying. He kept shifting his weight that it almost looked like he was bouncing. For her part, Marinette’s mind decided to take a vacation. Jon, her first friend in over four years, like her. Liked her to the point where he was inviting her to join him on a family holiday. He was inviting her to meet his family. As a potential girlfriend.

“Jon, I . . .”

“It’s fine it you don’t feel the same way. I . . .” he interrupted her, giving her a way out.

“Jon. Jon, it’s not that. I. . . I just. . . have never . . .  been in a relationship. And I don’t know how they work and I don’t know if I’ll be good at it.” She said, cutting him off. She couldn’t look at him. Not now. She hadn’t told a boy that she liked him since the disaster with Adrien.

“. . . Is that a yes?”

“Ye. . .” Marinette started to say, but was never able to finish as Jon pulled her into one of the most bone crushing and heartfelt hugs that she ever had. For a moment, she was too stunned to respond. It didn’t help that her brain had completely gone to mush. Once what had happened became clear, she returned Jon’s hug with just as much strength. And for the first time in a long time, Marinette felt like everything was going to be ok.

Flash forward, and we're takin' on the world together And there's a drawer of my things at your place You learn my secrets and you figure out why I'm guarded You say we'll never make my parents' mistakes

And we got bills to pay We got nothin' figured out When it was hard to take Yes, yes This is what I thought about

Marinette had always meant to tell Jon what happened with her life in Paris, why she had to leave. But she never thought it would happen like this. Never because of a nightmare.

Laughter.  Hate filled messages. Adults yelling at her in anger. Pain. The feeling of skin burning in an inferno. Buildings crushing her. The feeling and sounds of bone shattering.  Acid green eyes snaring as claws tore through her stomach.  Someone, someone was grabbing her, shaking her. Her earrings, she couldn’t let them get her earrings. She couldn’t use her arms! He had her arms! Lashing out, she tried kicking him off her, screaming at him. She couldn’t, she couldn’t let him take the earrings.

“. . .te.”

She had to get way.

“. . .ette.”

She couldn’t breath!

“ZHAO!”

That name woke her up. Only one person called her that. Snapped her out of her nightmare. No, her memories. Gasping for air, her eyes darted around the dark room. She knew this room. It was their room. Her and Jon’s. She was safe. She was safe. Why couldn’t she breath?

“Zhao, Zhao. Hey, hey , hey. It’s ok. It’s ok. Your safe. It was just a nightmare. You’re alright, Zhao. You’re alright. I’m here.” Jon’s voice drew her attention back to the person hold her, cradling her face as he gently brushed a hand through her hair. “That’s it. That’s it. Zhao, I need you to breath with me. Can you do that? Breath in. Hold it. And out. That’s good. You’re doing good. It was just a nightmare. Just a dream.”

Marinette knew he was trying to calm her. She knew that. That’s just who he was. But it wasn’t a dream. It was really. She couldn’t keep it locked up anymore. With a strangled cry, she flung herself at her boyfriend, clinging to him. Everything she had been bottling up for the past seven years just burst. She told him everything she had gone through in Paris, starting from when she became Ladybug until she left. All the pain, the doubt, the fear, the frustration came out. Marinette didn’t notice the kwami’s coming out of their box. She didn’t register their attempts to comfort her. The only thing she knew was that Jon was still holding her, rocking her slowly as he pet her hair, listening to her. Marinette didn’t know how Jon’s eyes started to glow in anger, how he curled around her protectively when she finally fell asleep. She didn’t hear his whispered promise to make those who hurt her pay. All she knew was that she was safe.

Do you remember, we were sittin' there, by the water? You put your arm around me, for the first time You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter You are the best thing, that's ever been mine

Do you remember all the city lights on the water? You saw me start to believe, for the first time You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter You are the best thing, that's ever been mine

It had was their third anniversary, and they were walking along shoreline. The sun had set hours ago. It was actually close to midnight. The air was crisp, taking on more a winter chill then a fall one. Metropolis Bay was quiet, the lights from the city created a picturesque scene, causing the waters sparkle like diamonds.

Neither were talking. They just walked, hand in hand, simply enjoy the night. Neither had projects, patrols, or meeting to worry about. Today was just for them.

Marinette was happy. She really, truly was. She remembered the morning following her breakdown, she had been so scared that Jon would leave her. That he would think she was too damaged. He had truly surprised her when he had asked to meet the kwamis. How he made sure to have their favorite foods always stocked. Though he had put a limit on Plagga’s cheese intake. The god of destruction learned very fast that if he ate his supplies before the end of the month, he would have to wait until the next month to get more camembert.  The kwamis respected him, and for that, Marinette couldn’t be happier. She loved him, and she was thankful her family did as well.

A tug on her hand brought Marinette back to the present. Turning, she found Jon on one knee. Pulling a box from his coat pocket. He wasn’t. There was no way he was . . .

“Marinette, ever since I met you, I knew you were different. Any other person would have never spoken to me again after what I did. But you did. You put up with me. You let me be myself around you. You, you helped me find who I was. You let me into your life, after so many others had left you. You threw my world of kilter. And I wouldn’t change it for the world. You give me a reason to fight, a reason to show others mercy. You’re the sun in my life, and without you I am half the man I’m suppose to be. I love you. So Marinette Dupain-Cheng, will you give me the honour of allowing me to walk by your side? Will you marry me?”

Through his whole speech, Marinette had tears pouring down her face. The more he said the harder her tears fell. By the time he reached the end, there was no way she could speak. All she could manage was a squeak as she nodded her consent. The sheer joy she felt when he slipped the ring on her left hand was almost too much. But her heart truly sung when he kissed her, slow and deep. Brimming with love. She was home.

And I remember that fight, two-thirty a.m. 'Cause everything was slipping right out of our hands I ran out, crying, and you followed me out into the street

Braced myself for the goodbye, 'Cause that's all I've ever known Then, you took me by surprise You said, "I'll never leave you alone"

She ran through the streets, tears threatening to fall, blurring her vision. She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t cry. He was going to hate her now. She had ruined everything.

‘That’s right viewer. According to a reliable and trustworthy source, the one and only amateur ‘designer’, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, who is known as the head designer for Jagged Stone, only got her position by sleeping with the artist. According to the source, this arrangement has been going on since the ‘designer’ was 13. She was the one to offer her ‘services’ as long as she was allowed to ‘design’ for the rock star. The real credit for the designs worn by the legendary rock star goes to one Lila Rossi. When asked why she hadn’t come forward sooner, this was her answer.

“Honestly I was scared to. I mean, Marinette had her claws into Jagged so deep that if I spoke up, no one would believe me. After all, who would believe a 14 year old girl over a music legend. But I just couldn’t keep quiet any longer. As a designer, I couldn’t let my work be stolen.”

Well, there you have it viewers. Looks like the ‘clean cut designer’ is really a dirty worker.’

The argument that followed was painful. Jon hadn’t said anything for the first five minutes after reading the article that popular blogger, Alya Cesaire, had published a little over an hour ago. The sheer amounts of reads was sickening. Marinette hadn’t even bothered to look at the comments, she couldn’t stand to think what was written. Marinette had panicked and was trying to convince Jon that what was written wasn’t true. The only relationship between her and Jagged was familiar at most. The longer Jon was silent, the more panicked and scared Marinette become.

“Why are you like this?”

The question hit Marinette like a truck. He . . . he thought she was lying? No. He couldn’t. She had told him about Lila. He knew she was a liar. Right?

“She’s lying, Jon. You have to believe me.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“I’m trying to . . .” Marinette started to say, trying to defend herself, but Jon’s voice cut her off.

“Why are you always defending yourself?” He yelled, and Marinette swore she saw his eyes flash red. He . . . he didn’t believe her. He believed the liar.

His words had set something off in her and Marinette did the one thing that gut told her. She ran. Bolted from the house. She couldn’t stay only to have Jon spout accusations at her. She couldn’t see the one person she felt safe with leave her. She didn’t know it was raining, she hadn’t even put on shoes. She just ran. She had no idea where she was going as her bare feet pounded on the pavement. Her foot caught on something, a sharp pain jerking on the top of her foot as her legs gave way. Bracing herself for the fall, she felt arms wrap around her. Arms she knew all too well. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t handle it if he left her too.

You said, "I remember how we felt, sitting by the water. And every time I look at you, it's like the first time. I fell in love with a careless man's careful daughter. She is the best thing that's ever been mine."

“I am never leaving you, Zhao. Do you hear me? I am never leaving you! You never needed to tell me that trash wasn’t true. Anyone with eyes could see that. I’m sorry I yelled at you. I am so sorry.  I know it set you off and I promised myself I would never cause that. And I did and I’m sorry.  I know I scared you. I was just so angry. I’m so sorry. I love you, and nothing. Nothing is gonna change that.” Jon declared, crushing his fiancée to him. He wasn’t going to let even the tiniest doubt tell his zhao that he didn’t mean it.

He felt her stiffen only for a second before she become completely undone. The heart wrenching sobs cut the young, half kryptonian in ways that him see red. Death was too good for the scum that did this to his zhao. No. He was going to make sure there was no way for any of them to recover, specifically that Italian and ‘journalist.’ He would show her what a real journalist could do. But right now, he had his fiancée to care for. Jon was determined to make sure Marinette felt more loved then she had before. He would tear her ex-friends apart later. He also need to call his parents.

The next morning saw the release of three different articles tearing apart both so called ‘article’ about Marinette and all those who where in it. Which was, interestingly, all of her old classmates. All three articles were brutal. One Kent was deadly enough, making recovery nearly impossible. Two Kent’s? Recovery would be impossible in their lifetime. With all three, there would be no hope for their family lines. The world learned one thing that day: Never make Jonathan Kent angry.

You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter You are the best thing, that's ever been mine

Do you believe it? We're gonna make it now And I can see it

While in France, the old class was receiving the backlash of media, with two of them receiving lawsuits like candy, Clark was trying to prevent most of the JL from ‘talking’ to the ex-class themselves. After all, he had dibs as future father-in-law.

And in an apartment in the old district of Metropolis, a couple slept in peace. The boy curled protectively around his small fiancée, shielding her from the world. After all, she was his.

[hitodama89]

I've had a quite an action-filled week, but in like... The most boring adult-way possible. I still wanna write about it because hey, I am a boring adult after all.

Most of my time has been spent working with my balcony. I've been cleaning it thoroughtly because despite having closeable windows it gathers a ton of this certain sort of nasty "city dust" in it (more on that later). The first incidence that stressed me to hell and back was when I was washing its floor and suddenly the neighbor who lives below me starts yelling that water is leaking to their balcony. I tried to ask several times where exactly was it coming from so I could actually do something about it, but instead of giving any sort of helpful answer they just kept mumbling about their annoyance as loud as I think is possible to mumble. After I had finished the cleaning I went to their door with a package of cookies in order to apologise, but they didn't even open the door. Finally I ended up just writing them an apology letter because there wasn't really anything else I could've done. Fortunately that whole ordeal hasn't escalated any further since that.

After that it was time to try to fix the issue of the city dust. The thing is my balcony hasn't always had windows, they were installed a few years ago when the whole house got some remodeling done. Buuut the windows weren't exactly a perfect fit: between their frame and the balcony's handrail is this weird ~5-10 cm gap that has let anything from bugs, snow, rain and that dang dust in. So after suffering from it for several years I, uh, took the matter into my own hands and filled the gap with this... Sprayable, hardening foam thing, god knows what it's actually called even in Finnish let alone in English. After hardening it resembles styrox quite a lot? It should keep the forces of nature out quite well but it can also be dug out in case the landlord for some reason hates it and wants it gone. (The apartment complex is owned by the city I live in, not by some individual person, and usually they don't really care what you do as long as it is reverseable. I highly doubt they will ever even notice it, especially as I'm not planning to move out from here in the foreseeable future. And if they do notice it and hate it, they'd either ask me to take it off and/or give me a fine of some sort, which, okay, I can live with that risk.)

So I spray the foam which is again scary and weird and stressful, but I get it done. And then I take the next day to tidy it up, scraping it off from surfaces it doesn't belong to. At this point I'm tired and exhausted more than in a good long while, but I'm far from being finished! So what the heck even is the point of all this: why am I doing it now exactly? Well, the first reason is that for the last week or so it has been abnormally warm in Finland, temperature rising to heights that normally belong to June. The second reason stems directly from that: it reminded me of how much I've wanted to spend more time in my balcony during summers, but I've just had really no comfortable furniture in it. And that reminded me of a purchase I already tried to make during last autumn, but I ran into SEVERAL online stores that claimed to have the product I was looking for in storage but when I had already paid for it, they sent me an email stating that they didn't actually have it for real and that they'd return my money.

Now that the season was more optimal, I decided to try again: I bought myself a sun sofa. I don't know if that's what it actually called in English because even in Finland stores sell it under various names, but basically it's this nest-like round sofa thing with a raisable canopy. It's meant to be kept outside so it should be perfectly fine to keep it in my balcony, especially now that the stupid gaps have been filled (which is the reason I did it). It costed A LOT of money, likely as much as the rest of my furniture combined, as the vast majority of them have been bought used or as the absolutely cheapest option available. But like... I've basically had a whole small room I have barely been using, so I figured turning it into actually comfortable space for me would be worth it.

Okay, so at this point I had cleaned up the balcony, fought with the neighbor, filled the gaps under the windows, tidied the filler foam and ordered the nest sofa. The sofa had already been sent but according to tracking it hadn't moved out of the capitol area yet, so I thought I'd have time to paint the foam to make it less noticeable before the sofa arrives. I was wrong - this morning a confused post delivery man called me that he can't find my house (I don't really know how because I heard the voice of a GPS on the background) so I went out to wave at him. He dumped the sofa out of his car, couldn't even bother to lift it into the staircase even thought it was raining outside, and left. And I was like okay let's do this, let's get this bad boy into the third floor where I live!

I couldn't fit it into the elevator. I tried, back and forth, for god knows how long. Finally my hands were so shaky and weak that I couldn't even lift the sofa anymore and I have literally no clue what I would've done if it wasn't for the fact that my parents live in the same city and I could scream for them to come and save me. (I don't exactly love doing that, but what else was I supposed to do?) So until they arrived I just sat there in my staircase, sweaty as a pig and faint from exhaustion, with a god damn sofa in the middle of it all. Finally they came and we managed to smash that problem child into the elevator and inside my apartment.

And then that fucking thing didn't fit through my balcony door. Oh believe me, I had measured everything meticulously and it should've fit through; I don't know if the packaging was different from the promised or what, but there was no way to get it in. But good thing I had plans B, C and even fucking D ready! They were, in that order:

Take apart this... Metallic rod thing that prevents the door from opening fully so it doesn't hit the wall behind it.

If that fails, take apart the hinges of the door and lift the whole door away.

If literally everything else fails, open the window that goes from my living room to balcony and lift the motherfucking sofa through the window.

At that point we couldn't even start from B because the door had some really fucking weird screwheads and I had no right sort of screwdriver for it. Thank the forces of the universe my father is the DIY man of all the DIY mans and has about every tool you can ever imagine, so we had to go get more tools from their place and try again. In the end plan B was enough and we didn't have to take apart half of the balcony, but we were both sweating bullets for the whole day even from imagining having to do it.

Now the sofa is in the balcony. The next time I have to move it from there is hopefully when the city remodels the whole house the next time, which will be in, idk, 30 years or something. At least I promised my (now 60 years old) father that at that point he doesn't have to come to move it anymore. ='D The ordeal is finally more or less over, unless the sofa was somehow damaged during all of this: I haven't yet taken it out of the wrappers because I want to keep it covered during the painting of the foam. (I did do some painting already after all this, so I should hopefully be able to strip it tomorrow and stash it to the already painted corner.)

Two bonus points that gave some extra spice to all of this: I also got my first Covid vaccine shot this week (I belong to one of the risk groups because of my health issues) so one of my arms was pretty hurt even before I had to start lifting the sofa around the apartment complex. Fortunately I the very least haven't had any other side effects*! And bonus point number two: that heat wave that hit Finland? It's gone by now. There is literal god damn snow on the ground again. =DDDDD

*(EDIT: NO WAIT, I just realized that I did likely get one other side effect! Please skip this if you feel icky about health subjects, but I do want to mention it in case it could be helpful for someone else. I thought it was just because of intense stress and quite a bit of exercise, but my body has produced some period blood even though it isn't a proper time for it. My body doesn't generally do that because of my hormonal medication, but these days getting weird new health-related symptoms mostly just makes me shrug and continue my life. BUT now I remembered reading that the vaccine has been affecting people's periods by making them more voluminous, so that's actually likely what's causing it??? That's interesting.)

[ericsonclan]

Ugly Sweater Surprise

Summary: James, Omar, Louis get together to work on a special Christmas surprise for their friends.

Word Count: 3103

Read on A03:

James took a deep breath, letting the aroma of gingerbread and sugar cookies fill his nose as Omar pitter pattered around the Ericson High dorm room kitchens. The brownie was gathering up all the cookies that they had already baked. The cyclops looked in awe at the amount Omar and he had created and the variety too. Blood, insect, seaweed, chicken, charcoal. All types of cookies that were suitable for monsters had been made for the special surprise the two of them and Louis had come up with for tomorrow. They needed to finish all these cookies before they went over to the frankenstein’s mansion later that night.

“How’s the frosting coming along?” Omar’s calming voice pulled James out of his thoughts and back to the frosting piping bag that was halfway filled with green frosting.

“I think I should be able to get the first batch done soon,” James smiled softly over at his friend who returned it in kind before moving to get his oven mitts. The cyclops returned to his task, his eye focusing entirely on making the best Christmas designs on the different sugary treats.

“So, have any fond Christmas traditions?” Omar glanced up from the oven as he moved a sheet of sugar cookies onto the stovetop.

“Hmmm,” James thought carefully about that, his nose scrunched up in concentration. “Nothing that special. We’d go to the forest and during wintertime the light bugs would come out and dance around the trees,” James had a nostalgic look in his eye. “It was magical.” He continued frosting the cookie.

“That sounds really beautiful,” The brownie smiled over at his friend.

“What about you?” The cyclop’s brown eye wandered over to Omar.

“The feast,” Omar set down the last batch of cookies to cool. “My family and I would make the greatest food. Our kitchens would be filled with all kinds of food: ham, chestnuts, potatoes, rolls. It’s a once a year feast that puts all others to shame.” Omar had a warm smile on his face as he moseyed over to join his roommate in finishing up decorating the cookies.

“Are you going to have it this year too?” James looked down at his friend who gave a short nod.

“Yep, I can’t wait. Although,” Omar began to decorate a sugar cookie in the shape of a candy cane, “I am going to miss everyone and having you as a roommate even if it’s only for a week or so.”

James got a little teary eyed at the thought. He wouldn’t be visiting his family during this time of year so it would be sad not to have his late night conversation and snack times with his friend.

“Well, it’s not for too long. Oh,” James’ eye fell when he saw he’d messed up on a cookie.

“It’s okay,” Omar pitter pattered over and got up on his stepping stool. “All you need to do is add some more red there and it fixes the mistake.”

The cyclops looked in awe at his friend’s skill and gave a gentle smile over his way.

“Thank you,”

“It’s no big deal,” Omar hopped down and continued his work. The brownie and cyclops continued to work until all the cookies were decorated and safely placed on the Christmas trays. They walked together, talking casually as they headed back to their dorm room. When they entered the room, James took the cookie trays and placed them in a safe spot while Omar bustled to get their Christmas sweaters. After a minute the brownie returned, moving past the bookshelf filled with cookbooks and nature and towards his roommate. James thanked his friend and placed his sweater on. It was a red and white sweater with the words “All Eye Want for Christmas is You” on the front.

“Do you need some help?” James asked as he saw Omar struggling with his sweater a bit.

“Yes, I would really appreciate it,” The brownie’s voice was muffled from the item of clothing. The cyclops delicately worked with his pal and shuffled the sweater back and forth until it fit snugly over his form. It was a simple design on the blue sweater with the words “Hug the Brownie” plastered sloppily on the front. Omar had told James that Louis had made it for him then the frankenstein got so excited about the idea of making ones for all the others. That was how this event tonight was happening. It was why the two friends were heading over to the Louis’ house to make a Christmas gift for everyone. Omar glanced down at his watch and gave a small tsking sound.

“It looks like we’re running a little late,”

“Oh no!” James’ already large eye grew even larger.

“It’s fine,” Omar waved a hand dismissively. “Knowing Louis he’ll be waiting anxiously, but I’ll send him a text to let him know,” Omar pulled out his phone and tapped a few buttons before placing the device back in his pocket. With that the pair set out towards the front of Ericson where to neither of their surprise a car waited with a driver sent by Louis. The duo walked forward and thanked the chauffeur, getting into the car and enjoying the ride there.

Both of them were thankful for the ride. Neither had a car and taking the bus to even get close to Louis’ house would most likely damper their Christmas mood with all the odd looks and whispered insults the humans would give when they say the sweatered monsters. Smooth Christmas jazz music was playing on the radio which the cyclops and the brownie enjoyed as the car slowly made its way along the snow-covered road and up to the mansion.

When the car pulled into the driveway they saw that Louis had already been waiting. The frankenstein’s usual friendly smile was plastered on his face as he slipped and skidded on the snow to get to them. “You made it!” Louis smiled brightly at the pair. “And you’re wearing the sweater I made,” He looked over at Omar who gave a small smile.

“Of course,”

“Oh, I like your sweater t...t..tchoo,” Louis’ head nearly slipped off due to the force of the sneeze as he complimented James’ sweater.

“Are you okay?” James looked concerned for his friend’s health.

“Yeah, yeah. Come on, let’s get inside. I made a ton of hot cocoa and treats to munch while we work.” The frankenstein led the way, clearly excited to have people over while his father was away for the next week or so. Louis opened the door and began to guide his two buddies through his maze of a house. The trio moved past the movie theater and pizza parlor, through the different guests rooms and finally made it to what Louis declared to be the decorating room. There on the floor were three sets of five pairs of sweaters. Glitter, glue guns, and all other types of arts and crafts were there to make the “bestest Christmas sweaters in all of Ericson High” as the frankenstein put it. The three monsters took their spots and took a few minutes to chat about this and that as Louis turned on the Christmas music that played through the speakers. Omar looked intrigued by the hot cocoa that Louis brewed which he said Clem had shown him how to make and was an “Everett secret”. The brownie made a note to ask the human about the recipe at tomorrow’s surprise party.

“So, should we get started?” James swayed nervously back and forth.

“Yes!” Louis snatched up the first sweater and grabbed the glitter. “I’m gonna make the best sweater for Clem!”

“Oh, then I guess I’ll start with one for Jesse,” James said with a shy smile.

“I’ll make one for Ruby then,” Omar smiled warmly at the thought of his best friend receiving this homemade gift. He knew how much Ruby loved and was touched by homemade gifts. The trio started their work on the sweaters. The frankenstein used all the red and green glitter he could while writing every so carefully the words “You’re My Christmas Wish” in white. Louis smiled proudly and shook off the excess sparkles then held it up for his friends to see.

“Ta-da!” The frankenstein beamed proudly at his creation for his girlfriend. “Get it, cause she’s my Christmas wish!” The frankenstein’s cheeks began to flush.

“Wow, that looks good,” James’ eye widened at the sweater then looked down nervously at his own.

“You want to show us?” Omar asked James in a gentle voice while Louis let out an excited gasp and started bouncing this way and that.

“Ooo! Ooo! I want to see Jesse’s sweater!” Louis poked his two pointer fingers together. James thought about it for a second then moved back to show his progress so far. The words “I’ll Put a Christmas Spell on  You” were present on the blue sweater while a small gorgon face was at the center of it. The colors and stripes of candy canes replaced the snakes that were usually on a gorgon’s head.

“That's really good,” Omar smiled warmly at his friend then returned to his work while Lous continued to praise James who wasn’t used to so many compliments and got slightly overwhelmed by them. After a minute Omar had finished his sweater while the other two had begun to work on their second sweaters; the frankenstein was working his hardest on one for his werewolf best friend while James had begun work on Tenn's ugly sweater.

“I think it turned out alright,” Omar held up Ruby’s sweater that he had made. It was a beautiful Christmas tree that had the words “O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree” delicately written in yellow over the tree that had small ornaments representing each of the monster pals.

“Whoa!” Louis leaned forward and almost spilled glitter onto Violet’s sweater. “Oh shit!” He caught the bottle of glitter. The cyclops looked over with concern before letting out a sigh of relief.

“I love it,” James complimented the brownie’s handiwork. “All the different ornaments like this little bat one and the matching bird ones. It's super detailed. I’m sure Ruby will love it.” That made Omar’s smile grow as he carefully placed it aside, excitement bubbling within his heart at the thought of his best friend receiving the gift. He moved on to Allison’s sweater. Louis hummed happily to “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” which James and Omar quickly joined in on. Each of them was enjoying their ugly sweater making party so far.

After a little while each of them revealed their second finished creations. Louis displayed his dramatically, holding up a deep blue sweater that looked like it held thousands of stars. White and yellow letters read “Starlight, Starbright”.

“Violet will definitely love that,” James’ response made Louis jump for joy, causing one of his hands to pop off. After Omar had retrieved the hand and helped his friend place it back on, he held up his creation. It was a pale blue sweater with delicate snowflakes dancing around the fabric with the words “Heart of Snow” with a small snow heart beside the text. James was next. The cyclops shyly held up his latest work: a green sweater saying “The Ghost of Christmas Present” with a red and green present below it.

“Tenn’s gonna flip when he sees that!” Louis’ dreadlocks swayed with how fast he lunged forward to get a closer look.

“I-Is that a bad thing?’ James looked at the sweater then at his two friends.

“No, it’s a good thing,” Omar said with a calm expression on his face. “Tenn is really going to like it.”

James beamed at those words and tucked away his second creation. With that the trio of monsters worked on their next designs. Louis got up for a few minutes, saying he would refill the snacks and drinks. After nearly fifteen minutes he returned and placed a plethora of goodies in front of his pals. The three snacked happily for a while as they brainstormed some more ideas.

“Alright,” Louis tossed the remainder of a Christmas cookie in his mouth and dusted off his hands. “Let’s get started on another great sweater!”

It was some time before any of them had finished up. Omar was the first this time, holding up Willy’s gift. “Christmas Under the Sea” read proudly over the top in seafoam green and blues as different seaweed and cute sea creatures filled the sweater. Next James showed his finished work for Sophie. He had wanted to make some special adjustments to the sleeves so the harpy’s feathers wouldn’t get pressed harshly against her arms. It was a vibrant red sweater that had two turtle doves that flew in the center of it.

“Who’s the second turtle dove?” Omar’s question made James’ eye blink in realization.

“Oh, I didn’t think of that. I guess it could be Minnie or Tenn.”

“No!” Louis shook his head; his dreadlocks bounced with the force of his movement. “I bet it’s Marlon. True love conquers all!”

“I don’t know,” Omar leaned back, his hand on his chin. “I think it could be Renata. Friendship is just as special as either of those two bonds.”

“True,” James nodded along then looked back at the sweater.

Louis pondered the conundrum gravely. “Well, I guess there’s only one way to settle this. We’ll make a bet on which we think she’ll say tomorrow when I ask her.” James and Omar shared a look before nodding in agreement. Then Louis held up his latest masterpiece. The words “Baby It’s Cold Outside” were dancing in fiery letters above a fireplace on the maroon sweater. The cyclops and the brownie didn’t even have to guess whose it was. It obviously was made for the fire elemental Aasim. The monsters looked around and saw that they were already halfway done. Their smiles remained ever present as they kept humming along to the carols and decorating.

James seemed focused on working on his last two sweaters simultaneously and so the frankenstein and brownie finished their fourth sweaters first. Louis held up his gift to Prisha: a white sweater with the words “I’d Take a Bite of That” were shown in blood red above a Christmas cookie that had a bite already taken out of it.  Omar showed off his latest sweater next. It was an ocean blue sweater with the text “I’m Dreaming of a Blue Christmas” in a light blue color. Seashells and little seals were placed at the center of the sweater.

“You’re both so talented,” James looked up from his work with a gentle smile.

“Heh,” Louis rubbed the spot under his nose. “I love making gifts for friends.”

“Me too,” Omar’s smile grew as he pitter pattered over to add Brody’s sweater to the rest of the finished clothing. The pair of friends glanced over at the cyclops who looked busy, still hard at work on his duo of sweater projects. So Louis and Omar began to work on their last ones. The frankenstein’s tongue stuck out slightly as he worked on Marlon’s sweater. He wanted it to turn out really cool for his best friend. Meanwhile Omar was working as diligently as ever on Mitch’s sweater.

After what felt like ages all three monsters finished their last sweaters. Omar displayed his sweater first. It was a white and red striped sweater where a reindeer rode on top of a comet.

“Oh!” Louis hit his fist on his open palm. “Comet like the reindeer!”

“That’s right,” Omar gave a short nod. “What about you, Louis? What did you make for Marlon?”

“I made this!” Louis smiled as he held the sweater in front of his face so his friends could get a closer look. It was a set of snowmen that had the words “My Mind Is On Christmas” below them. It sparkled and shone in the light due to all the glitter the frankenstein had put on it.

“Marlon is really gonna like that one,” James said as Louis and Omar moved over to place down their last sweaters in the sweater corner.

“Thanks! Now show us yours. You gotta have been working on Renata’s and MInnie’s,’ Louis sat crisscross applesauce and leaned forward in excitement. Omar also seemed intrigued by what the designs could be. James shifted the sweaters and placed them side by side. “The one on the left is for Renata and the one on the right is for Minnie,” the cyclops explained. The monsters leaned forward, taking in the sight of Renata’s sweater first. The word “Naughty” was placed in the center with little foxes standing above it and playing below it. A fox tail in the form of a question mark was beside the word. Then they looked over at Minnie’s that had the word “Nice” on it. It was tucked away in a little nest with small white eggs decorated in Christmas colors.

“Wow! These are great!” Louis hopped on his feet and did a little spin. “They all turned out awesome! Our secret ugly sweater making party was a success!” The frankenstein pulled proudly on the air by the sides of his shirt.

Omar gave a warm smile. “It was a lot of fun.”

Yeah, I-” James was cut off by a sharp yawn that made his eye water slightly.

“Oh, are you tired, James? If you two want you can totally stay over for a sleepover.” Louis looked anxious for their response to his question. The two roommates shared a look before a happy, excited smile took over both of their faces.

“Sounds like fun,”

The brownie’s words made Louis do a little jump as he sprinted out of the room. “I’ll get the guest room set up with sleeping bags and stuff! Oh! Let’s also watch a Christmas movie too! I wonder which….” Louis’ voice disappeared as he slid across the floors and headed towards preparing what was sure to be a fun all-nighter with how this evening was panning out. James and Omar rose from their spots to help out their friend. Pausing for a moment, the two looked at the completed sweaters with proud smiles.

“They’re gonna be super excited tomorrow,” James commented which made Omar’s smile grow.

“With these sweaters and cookies, I’m sure there won’t be a non-smiling face in sight,” The brownie and cyclops continued to talk as they ambled out of the room, excited for tomorrow and all the joy it would bring.

[eddieeatsass]

Hanzier smut? Richie hot n bothered, so he gets Mike hot n bothered and rides him?? ( if ur still taking requests...) Because bottom Richie rights

BOTTOM RICHIE RIGHTS!!! I’m sorry this took so long, but I hope you’re happy with the results. Read on AO3 or below:

Mike slowly felt himself drift into consciousness, awarenesscoming back to his senses as he blinked sleep out of his eyes. He felt next tohim for his warm-bodied companion but found empty rustled sheets instead. Mikedecided to take another moment before getting out of bed to search for hisboyfriend.

When he finally padded down the hallway, lit up by earlymorning sun that covered his skin in waves, he found the kitchen and livingroom empty as well. He busied himself with making coffee, stretching himselfout as the coffee pot filled drip by drip.

Yesterday had been exhausting, leaving his muscles feelingstiff from sleeping so deeply after such a long day. Him and Richie had arrivedat the beach house well into the evening, after a day full of travelling.They’d ordered a mediocre pizza before passing out in uncomfortable positionsthat they’d seemingly held all night, if the rigidity in Mike’s limbs wasanything to go by.

Once the coffee was done, he poured himself a cup and madehis way towards the back door, having no doubt where he’d find Richie.

 Richie was a capital B beach bum. He got restless anytime hewas away from the water for too long. Something about the sand between his toesseemed to ground him, so when Mike had suggested that they get a summer beachhouse, it had earned him tons of gratitude from his excited partner.

This was the third year they’d spent their summer here sincebuying it, and Mike was used to Richie’s routine by now. Although usually a bedbug, Richie transformed into a morning bird every time they visited. He’d wakeup at the crack of dawn, as if the sun itself had reached down and shook himawake, and he’d be in the sand before he’d even grabbed breakfast. Thebeautiful thing about having a private beach was that Richie never had to worryabout looking unkempt, so he never bothered with looking presentable thosemornings.

As he’d expected, Mike spotted Richie wadding around in thewater, curly hair dripping over his shoulders and ivory chest reflecting thesun. Mike would have to grill him about wearing sunscreen later; also a routinethey’d fallen into each year.

Mike leaned against the door frame, holding his cup to hischest as he watched the goofy grin on his lover’s face expand, and then fall ashe got knocked over by a wave.

 Mike waited until he was done his coffee to actually bravethe salty air and scorching sand, wincing for a moment when the sun hit hisgolden eyes, until they adjusted to the brightness. He slid the patio doorclosed behind him and walked down the steps leading him to the beach.

It didn’t take long before Richie noticed him, grinreturning as he waved wildly over his head as if Mike might not be able to spotthe only other person in the vicinity. He smiled, returning the gesture, beforesettling down into one of the reclining beach chairs they’d set out.

Richie came traipsing out of the water, a little pep in hisstep from a morning in his happiest place. He was wearing something that Mikehad never seen before, and he had to hold himself back from laughing at thesight of a tight leopard print speedo barely covering Richie’s junk.

“Good mooooorning Mikey!” Richie greeted, plopping down intoMike’s lap without warning. Mike let out a little oof before settlinghis arms around Richie’s waist and pulling him close, complaininglightheartedly about Richie’s wet butt soaking his boxers in ocean water.

“What are you wearing?” Mike asked, cocking one eyebrow andsmirking down at the offending item.

“It’s a speedo!” Richie defended, snapping the waistline againsthis skin for emphasis.

“Since when do you wear speedos?”

“What, a man can’t look good for his boyfriend?” Richiewiggled in his spot, rubbing up against Mike very deliberately. Mike’s hold onRichie tightened warningly and Richie stopped moving.

“You always look good; I just didn’t know speedos were yourthing.”

“Well. Now they are.” Richie said decidedly. “Besides, youlike it, don’t lie.” Richie squirmed in Mike’s lap once again, causing Mike tostill his hands on his mischievous boyfriend’s hips.

“Are you trying to give me a boner on the beach?”Mike asked accusingly.

“Mmmmmmmaybe.” Richie looked up at Mike through thick blacklashes, batting them to feign innocence.

“At least let a man have breakfast first.”

“But I’ve been waiting for you all morning.” Richie moaned.

The spot in Mike’s heart that belonged to Richie thumped alittle louder, drowning out the common sense he was trying to hold on to. Therewas only so much he could do when Richie spoke to him with such desire anddepravity.

“All right, get that little ass inside then.” Mike crumbledeasily, slapping Richie’s ass playfully in a gesture to get him moving.

“Mmmm- too far.” Richie mumbled, beginning to nose at thecolumn of Mike’s neck.

Mike laughed a little incredulously, deciding to humorRichie for a moment.

“So, what, we’re just gonna give our neighbors a show?”

“They wouldn’t complain.” Richie teased, his light kissesturning into nips that had Mike’s blood pressure rising.

“Richie…” Mike warned, beginning to feel himself stir in hisboxers.

“Come on Mike, I didn’t get off at all yesterday.” Richiewhined, the sound, unfortunately, only adding to Mike’s growing problem.

“We were travelling-”

“If someone hadn’t objected to joining the mile-high club, Iwouldn’t be so riled up-”

“I didn’t want to start our vacation with us getting introuble-”

“We wouldn’t have gotten in trouble-”

“You’re getting yourself in a lot of trouble right now withthat mouth-”

“Oh, sorry for missing my boyfriend’s cock-”

“Fine.” Mike gripped the back of Richie’s neck, pulling himinches from his mouth, Mike’s lips ghosting his. “You want me to fuck you onthis beach, right out in the open where everyone can see what a desperate cockslut you are?”

Richie’s eyes were wide, shock written on his features. Heclearly wasn’t expecting Mike to give in so quickly, but quite honestly, Mikedidn’t have much fight in him when his dick was throbbing.

It took a slight jolt from Mike to remind Richie to answer,and then he was shaking his head eagerly.

“And what do you expect me to stretch you out with? Oceanwater?” Mike prodded, the slight condescension causing a flush to Richie’scheeks.

“No, I-”

“You have 30 seconds to get the lube or you have to stretchyourself out.” Mike deadpanned, the inklings of a smirk twitching at the cornerof his lip. Richie loved it when Mike got authoritative.

It didn’t take long before Richie was stumbling to his feet,trying to beat the traction of the sand as he ran towards their beach house.Mike counted in his head, listening intently for the sound of padding footstepsexiting the house again. When they finally did, Mike was up to 38 seconds, buthe chose to keep that to himself.

 He heard a tumbling and whirled his head around to see Richielosing his footing on the stairs, his body slipping horizontal as his hand heldon to the rail to keep him from fully falling. Mike noted the speedo, pulledhaphazardly around Richie’s knees, and guessed that the culprit of hisdownfall.

“Someone’s eager.” Mike noted, as Richie righted himself andtook the time to pull his speedo the rest of the way down, stepping out of itcarefully before resuming his sprint towards Mike.

Richie came to an ungraceful halt in front of Mike,thrusting the lube out with a triumphant smile, his breathing labored fromtrying to beat the clock.

Richie’s cock looked painfully hard, and Mike wondered ifgoing one day without fucking had always affected Richie this way, or if it wasjust since they’d gotten together. Mike’s ego would like to believe the latter.

“Alright, let’s get you satiated before some poor sap has tolook out their window only to be blinded by your pale ass.” Mike crooked hisfinger in a come-hither motion.

“They can admire my pale ass all they want, as longas you’re the one fucking it.” Richie responded without missing a beat,climbing back into Mike’s lap.

Mike laughed along with Richie, giggling into each other’smouths with a bliss that Mike only ever felt around the love of his life. Itwas a carefree laugh with no worries hiding behind closed doors or secrets hidingunder floorboards. They were as raw and open with each other as they possiblycould be, in a way that Mike hadn’t felt in any of his relationships outsidethe other Losers. He felt grateful that the world had allowed him to fall inlove with one of his best friends.

It only took a few minutes of kissing for Richie to getimpatient, tugging on Mike’s hand and trying to guide him where he wanted him.

“Please, Mike, just-” Richie panted against Mike’s lips, hisvoice breathy with need and cutting off midsentence.

“What, you want me to go in there dry after you went to allthe trouble to grab the lube?” Mike chuckled deeply, reminding Richie that hewas, in fact, holding the lube hostage in one tight-knuckled hand.

“Oh, fuck- yeah here.” Richie eagerly popped the cap on thebottle and squeezed about half its contents into Mike’s awaiting hand. It oozedthrough Mike’s fingers and down to his wrist as Mike’s shocked eyes flittedback and forth from the massacre in his hand to Richie’s face.

“Well jeez, think that’s enough, Rich?”

Richie made a noise deep in his throat that sounded bothneedy and apologetic all at once. As if he was sorry, but not really thatsorry.

With enough lube to drown a man, Mike had no problemslipping the first finger in. The others took a little more time, but withinminutes Mike had four of his fingers thrusting in and out of Richie, theexcessive lube making a lewd squelching noise that made Mike blush from top tobottom.

“Mikey, I can’t wait any longer, please-”

The switch from fingers to cock was effortless, Richie’sbody stretching to accommodate the intrusion like the well-trained boy he was.He slid down Mike’s length with a heady moan that crawled into Mike’s gut andignited the coil that was already pulling taut.

“I’ve got you.” Mike wrapped his arms around Richie’s waist,the action made easy by how tiny Richie was compared to him. Mike’s hand alonealmost engulfed Richie’s entire back, eclipsing the pale skin with dark umber.

Richie melted above him, his muscles relaxing under Mike’s holdand the familiar stretch of his hole.

 Over the years, they’d discovered that Richie took to dickthe way others took to chocolate, or ice cream; cock was his comfort food. WhenRichie was nestled around Mike was when he was happiest, and Mike sometimesforgot how stressed Richie could get without his fill. Their trip really hadtaken its toll on him.

“Is that better, baby?” Mike asked gently, rolling his hipsand elating at the content mewl he got in response.

“Mmm.” Richie hunched over slightly so he could set his headon Mike’s shoulder, kissing his neck lazily as he began bouncing shallowly inplace. Mike let his hands trail down the length of Richie’s back, settling onthe globes of his ass and squeezing hard enough to leave crescent moons in hiswake.

Richie responded with a slight increase to his thrusts, butnot enough to satisfy Mike’s pulsing need.

“Are you gonna pleasure yourself on my cock, or just playaround with it a little?” Mike teased, nudging Richie’s forehead with his chinso he was forced to look up and meet Mike’s wanting eyes.

Richie gazed at him through a shadow of lashes, innocenceand deviance battling behind his eyes. Mike could tell Richie was trying todecide which response he wanted to give; whether he wanted to comply, or tease.

Richie straightened back up, placing his hands on Mike’schest for stability as he peered down at him, decision made and determined.

Locking eyes with Mike, Richie tensed his thighs and raisedhimself up until just the crown of Mike’s head was settled against Richie’srim. Mike’s lungs seized up in anticipation, before Richie was baring down andpunching the air right out of him, along with a drawn-out groan.

“So good for me.” Mike crooned, watching as Richie repeatedthe motion again. “So beautiful like this.”

Mike’s hands moved to Richie’s thighs, surveying the fadingmarks he’d left there a few days ago. He pressed down on one, noticing how itblossomed around his finger and caused Richie to let out a little gasp.

“Wanna mark you up like this again.” Mike said absently.

“Please.” Richie begged wantonly.

If it was possible to get his mouth on those thighs andstill fuck into him, Mike would have done so in a heartbeat. But as it was, he wasnot a contortionist, so he settled for putting it on the list for later.

 They settled on a brisk but relaxed pace, letting themselvesenjoy the languid thrusts and the thrill that rushed under their skin each timethey remembered they were out in the open.

Mike ran his hands back up Richie’s body, taking his time totrace every curve and dip and crevice along the way. He payed extra attentionto Richie’s nipples, grinning when it caused Richie to arch his back furtherand turn his head towards the sky.

Once Richie was red chested and begging for release, alreadywound so tight even though they’d only been at it for a few minutes, Mike lethis hands trail the rest of the way towards their destination. Thick fingersthreaded through black hair, which reflected in shades of brown and bluedepending on how the sun chose to illuminate it. Richie’s hair was one of Mike’sfavorite parts of his appearance, though it was tough competition if he wasbeing honest. He loved everything about Richie, but there was something especiallyappealing about the way those soft curls would tighten around his fingers, caginghim in as if they had a life of their own and never wanted to let him go.

In response, Richie’s hands darted into Mike’s own hair,which had been grown out since their younger years, and was now pulled into abun atop his head. Mike had voluptuous curls of his own, but the sides and napeof his neck were all shorn, leaving the natural curls atop his head the main focalpoint. Richie had loved every hair style Mike had worn over the years, but thisone was by far his favorite, and he was vocal about it, too.

“God, you’re so sexy Mikey-” Richie breathed, eyes liddedand already looking fucked out of his mind. He absently pulled off the elasticthat held Mike’s hair in place, and dug his fingernails deep into his scalp,watching as the curls cascaded down to frame Mike’s face.

Mike pulled him in close, leaning their foreheads against oneanother, and settling his gaze where they were connected. He watched intentlyas Richie continued to grind up and down, slowly squeezing the life out of Mike’scock.

He couldn’t help but grind his hips, imagining himself stirringRichie’s insides around. And if Richie’s reaction was anything to go by, itprobably felt fairly similar. Moans were dripping out of his mouth like saliva,getting higher and higher pitched as Mike continued his ministrations.

Mike pistoned his hips up once, experimentally, and receiveda resounding response.

“Daddy! Daddy- fuck- oh my god-” Richie’s hipsslapped down to meet Mike’s next thrust, his cheeks now marked with tearstreaks that Mike wanted to lick off. Richie never looked as good as he didwhen he was wrecked like this.

Mike continued to fuck up into him, leaning in and kissingRichie’s forehead, his eyebrow, his temple. Their mouths intermingled as theyboth labored for breath and struggled to keep their pace.

“Fuck… look at you, princess.” Mike whispered against Richie’slips

Richie keened at the use of the nickname, his entire bodyseizing up as he crested over the edge. Mike continued to fuck him through his climax,his touch gentle but his thrusts rough.

Once Richie finally stopped spilling out onto Mike’sstomach, aftershocks mimicking the waves behind them, Mike hit his ownthreshold.

Richie was pliant as Mike fucked up into him. He knew Richiewas probably experiencing overstimulation, but he didn’t make a peep, lettingMike ride out his own orgasm for as long as he needed to.

 It was a long time before either of them moved again. The warmsun had a way of lulling them into even deeper of a post-coital bliss than usual.It wasn’t until a seagull squawked nearby that they were brought back to reality.

Mike stretched his arms up above his head, smiling down atRichie as he nuzzled further into Mike’s chest. By now he’d completely softenedinside Richie, and their stomachs were sticking together like someone hadpoured glue between them. He’d have to get them to a shower before Richie triedto prance back into the Ocean and claim it was ‘good enough’.

The seagull squawked again, sounding closer now and almost…human like. Now that Mike thought about it, it didn’t sound all that much likethe seagulls they were used to. He swivelled around as much as he could with anotherfull-grown man laying on his body and caught sight of the very-much-not-a-seagulltrampling towards them.

“Fuck! Richie, get up!” Mike scrambled to stand on his ownfeet, hissing slightly as he slipped out of Richie’s tight heat and suddenly feltmuch more exposed than he’d like.

“What’s going on- OH FUCK.” Richie stumbled backwards a few stepsbefore homing in on the fast approaching threat that had caused Mike’sreaction.

A few meters away, holding a sandal threateningly in herraised hand and a scowl on her face, was a woman who was speaking in spurts of Spanishand broken English. Richie had taken Spanish in high school, and although he didn’tremember much, he’d prided himself on learning every Spanish swear word therewas; and this woman seemed to know them all.

Richie panicked, turning around in a circle and searchingthe sand as if he could find a way to hide himself, maybe build a quick sandcastle and crown himself king. All may enter except this lady.

Mike, being the rational one as always, grabbed Richie’swrist before he started booking it back towards the beach house.

As they reached the steps, Richie realized they’d left theirlube behind, and high on adrenaline and panic, suddenly it seemed like the mostimportant possession he’d ever owned.

“THE LUBE!” Richie shouted to Mike, tearing his arm from Mike’sgrasp.

“Richie, leave it!” Mike shouted back, eyeing the woman whowas still storming towards them, now yelling words that he didn’t need to speakSpanish to understand.

“No one left behind, Michael!” Richie ran back towards thechair, slipping down on to his side and sliding along the ground like he’d seenBill do a million times in his baseball games. He felt the sand dig into his bareflesh and immediately regretted the decision, but he had no time to do anythingbut grab the bottle and run.

So, he did just that, kicking sand up behind him as he triedto move as quickly as possible. Ahead of him, Mike was holding the patio dooropen for him, anxiously ushering him forward as if it had the magic ability to makeRichie faster.

When he finally reached the stairs for the second time, Richiefelt something hard hit his back. He kept moving, his rapid heartbeat drowningout the yelling to the right of him.

He reached the top step, took a giant leap, and landedinside the beach house on wobbling feet. He turned back towards the door whichMike was sliding shut and locking into place, and he raised his hands in triumph.

Staring back at him from the bottom of their stairs, pickingup the sandal she’d thrown at Richie, was the middle-aged woman who had all butdamned them to hell. She was glowering in fury at the two younger men, the gripon her sandal strong enough to bend it nearly in half.

Richie lowered his arms, realizing it probably looked likehe was flashing her on purpose. He mouthed a guilty ‘sorry’ as Mike drew the blindsshut.

“Well… that was an experience.” Mike whispered, as if worriedthe angry woman might have superhuman hearing.

“Yeah, I’m gonna be digging sand out of my ass crack fordays.” Richie responded, turning and presenting his backside to Mike. The lube thatcoated his ass and upper thighs had acted as an adhesive for the sand he’drolled in, leaving him absolutely caked in it. At the sight, Mike couldn’t helpbut burst out laughing at the absurdity of the whole situation.

“Alright, let’s get you a shower.” He chuckled,side-stepping around his sandy boyfriend and only getting close enough to leavea peck against Richie’s forehead before was disappearing down the hall towardsthe bathroom.

Richie trailed after him, leaving a literaltrail of sand in his wake.

[galoots]

Donald pushes himself too hard while he's sick, and Scrooge has to take care of him. It's a bit difficult to care for your nephew when he incessantly insists he isn't sick.

The bitter winter wind sliced through Donald’s heavily bundled form like a knife’s edge. His slow, winding route up Killmotor hill came to a temporary halt as a violent shiver racked his body. Pulling his scarf tighter around his beak, Donald made labored steps through the thick snow. Duckburg had gotten several inches overnight, so his normally long walk to work was made even longer. Bad weather was much less charming once the glamour of the holiday season wore off.  

          The holidays, in fact, had come to an end a few days prior, along with his incredibly short-lived vacation. Grey, listless January lumbered into town, bringing with it the disappointed march of children back to school, and adults back to work. Donald’s normal shift at his uncle’s bin resumed, meaning early mornings, a troublesome commute, and long days spent polishing coins, filing taxes, and handling other odd jobs his uncle needed doing. But hell, it paid. So here he was, fighting his way up the snow-blanketed hill on a freezing January morn.

Last night’s tell-tale tickle of a sore throat had turned full blown pharyngitis when he awoke this morning. An unsurprising turn of events, since he’d nursed the triplets back to health after they caught a nasty virus only a week prior. Throughout his morning routine and his commute to work, his under-the-weather feeling turned into more of a maybe-I-should-go-to-the-hospital feeling, but he continued on anyway. Sure, he had sick days saved up and sure he felt like death was wrapping its icy grip around him and sure his kids had softly suggested that it might not be in his best interest to head into work today, but those were just excuses. Mind over matter was the way to think of it! If he didn’t acknowledge this so-called bug, then it had no power over him. With willpower you could overcome any physical problem, and Donald had a will of steel. Besides, a silly little fever couldn’t stand in the way of his paycheck, not after he had splurged on a spectacular Christmas for his kids. In hindsight, it hadn’t been the smartest choice, given his lean holiday bonus, but the spirit of the season had trumped his sense of frugality.

           Climbing the stairs to Scrooge’s office left him winded after a few steps, forcing him to pause to catch his breath on the landing. Several times he had to wait out nasty coughing fits that racked his body with violent spasms. Despite these delays, he was still able to reach Scrooge’s office on time. He greeted his uncle while he hung up his coat and hat, deciding to leave his scarf and thick woolen sweater on to combat the chills bombarding his body. Even inside, sheltered from the wind and the fire stoked blazing hot in his uncle’s old-fashioned cast iron wood stove, he felt the winter’s chill deep done in his bones. His head swam, feeling thick as molasses, as he grabbed his rag and tub of polish. He barely registered his uncle’s greeting and small talk about the weather as he stumbled to the Bin’s interior. Scrooge’s concerned inquiry about his well-being was lost on sinuses so clogged it was as if he had shoved cotton in his ears.

          His descent down the ladder leading to the coins was an arduous one—his sense of balance was all in a tizzy and his hands clammy on the rungs. A strong dizzy spell hit him hard when he attempted another step down, his sweaty hand slipping off the rung, sending him hurtling to the coins stacked high below.  

          For once, the tinkle of metal on metal didn’t cause a thrill to spark down Scrooge’s spine. Instead, a keen sense of dread settled in his stomach, launching him up from his office chair, over his desk, and to the ledge overseeing his three cubic tons of money.

          His nephew was usually groggy and unresponsive in the morning, typical since the boy much preferred to sleep late. But that morning, he’d stumbled into Scrooge’s office like a man possessed, barely responding and marching forward like an automaton. Scrooge’s fears were confirmed once he peeked over the ledge and spied the prostrate body of his nephew below. He scrambled down the ladder, calling for Duckworth to ready the company car.

          Donald was conscious but delirious, so Scrooge’s queries about how he felt were meet with incoherent answers. Inspecting the boy himself, nothing seemed broken, but he was hot to the touch and panting shallowly. The damn fool was sick as a dog! Hauling him up onto his back, Scrooge started for the ladder to carry him out of the bin.

           Donald awoke in his bed with a yawn. He smacked his beak, content to fall back asleep, letting his eyes shut close again. Before he drifted back asleep, he thought how strange the quality of light was at this hour. It was far too bright out for six am on winter morning; it should be still be dark out. The slow, subtle descent of panic wormed its way into his heart as he realized what this meant. He overslept. Jumping out of bed, he tore off his pajamas and threw on his sailor suit. Uncle Scrooge hated nothing more than a tardy worker and, given how bright it was, Donald was very, very tardy. He could see his end with unshrouded eyes—Scrooge was going to kill him.

          There was no time to shower, no time for breakfast, barely even time to stop and think. He hurtled down the hallway, careening around the corner almost slipping before he grabbed the banister to steady himself. He started down the stairs only to trip over his own feet after a few steps and tumble the rest of the way down, landing with a thud.

          “Donald?”

          That thick Scottish brogue could only belong to one man—his ornery Uncle Scrooge. It was too late for him. The old boy was already here to chew him out. Donald screwed his eyes closed for a moment. Farewell kids! Farewell Daisy! Farewell temperamental Fate! Life was short and unkind, but at least he’d find a swift end. And at least he’d never have to see Gladstone again.

          A strong arm grasped his own and Donald held his breath, thinking it would surely bring about his death, only to find that he had been pulled to his feet. He readied an apology as Scrooge lead him by the arm into the kitchen, following his uncle in a guilt-ridden slink. Scrooge was frowning heavily, almost grimacing.

          Maybe, if he launched into an apology, he could head off the worst of the yelling. “Uncle Scrooge, I am so, so sorry, I didn’t mean to oversleep, I—”

          Scrooge pushed firmly on his shoulders, plunking Donald down into the chair he had pulled out from the kitchen table. He opened his mouth to speak again but his apology was cut off with the harsh rap of Scrooge’s cane against the floor. He winced at the sound, shrinking into his chair. Scrooge had to be furious with him.

          “I take you all the way home to get some rest and you catapult yourself down the stairs the second I leave you along?” Scrooge scoffed, pushed Donald’s chair in, and walked over to the stove.

          Donald pried one confused eye open, spotting his uncle puttering around the kitchen in the frilly, pink apron Daisy gave him last Valentine’s day. What the hell was going on?

          His uncle placed a bowl of soup in front of him with a tut of disapproval. “Eat up. It’s just from a can. Nothing fancy. You know I’m not much of a cook.” Before sitting down next to him, Scrooge tucked a napkin into Donald’s collar.

          Donald wrapped his chilled hands around the warm bowl, peering at his perplexed reflection in the surface of the chicken noodle soup. He sipped the soup directly from the bowl, not bothering to pick up the spoon next to him. His head swam with confusion. He could barely breathe through his nostrils. His body felt achy and sore but not from his fall. His body was feverish, yet he felt chilled all the same. And Uncle Scrooge was in his kitchen, wearing his apron, and serving him soup. Had the world gone mad?

          Scrooge tugged the lapel of Donald’s uniform like he was a commanding officer during an inspection. “You changed into your day clothes too? After all that trouble I went through to get you into your pajamas?” Scrooge released his hold on him and sighed. “Foolish little thing. You’ve got no sense in that feathery head of yours!”

          Scrooge was giving him a scolding, but not the one he had anticipated. His uncle sounded exasperated, not angry and he made no mention of his tardiness, speaking confusing sentences Donald couldn’t parse.

          “What are you talking about?” Donald fixed his uncle with a wild-eyed look. “I thought you were here to yell at me for being late?”

          Scrooge knit his eyebrows together, leaning forward to get a closer look at Donald. “You don’t remember coming in to work?”

          “I was at the Money Bin?”

          His uncle wore a genuine look of concern. “How sick are you?” Reaching across the table, Scrooge laid a hand on Donald’s forehead to feel his temperature. He startled at the touch, feeling it far too tender to be the action of his uncle. Scrooge didn’t hesitate to close the gap between his hand and his nephew’s forehead. “Just checking your temperature lad.” He muttered something about Donald being awfully jumpy, then deliberated for a moment or two. “You feel hot.”

           Standing up decisevly, Scrooge walked over to pull out Donald’s chair. “Head back upstairs. You need to get some rest.” Despite the stern tone, Donald remained seated, trying to recall whether or not he’d left the house that morning like Scrooge had claimed. Growing impatient as his nephew failed to comply, Scrooge huffed and pulled him to his feet. With an arm wrapped protectively around him, he walked Donald out of the kitchen and back to his bedroom.

          Donald thought of complaining about the tight grip Scrooge had on him and readied a remark about his ability to climb the stairs all his own but paused when he remembered he had tripped on the way down. Whatever. He felt too tired to bicker anyway. Let the old man carry him, he thought sullenly—too proud to acknowledge the rubbery feeling in his legs or how they shook with each step.

          Back upstairs in Donald’s bedroom, Scrooge pulled a fresh pair of pajamas from Donald’s wardrobe, placing them in a neat pile next to where Donald sat on his bed. Donald waited a few moments for Scrooge to leave, granting him some privacy to change his clothes, but Scrooge continued to stand in front of him.

          “Um.” Donald mumbled, his voice sounding nasally and pinched to his stuffed ears.

          “Well, what are you waiting for, boy? An invitation? Arms up!” Scrooge commanded.

          Dumbly, Donald lifted his arms without knowing why. His uncle pulled his sailor’s uniform up over his head with a swift movement. Donald jerked to cover himself as a self-conscious reflex as Scrooge folded his top and placed it off to the side.

          “I-I can do it myself!” Donald tried to swat Scrooge’s hand away from but found it difficult to do while continuing to cover himself.

          “Oh please.” Scrooge fended off his pathetic attempts to save himself, catching him by the wrist, and guiding his arms through the sleeves of his button-up nightshirt. “I used to change your diapers, you absolute numpty. Nothing I haven’t seen before. Besides,” Scrooge skipped over the buttons for now, turning to pick up the pajama bottoms, “I know if I left you to your own devices, you’d just fall asleep in your clothes like a ninny.”

           Donald grumbled unhappily about this accusation, regardless of the fact his uncle hit the nail square on the head; he was feeling so exhausted he wouldn’t have even bothered to climb the stairs back up to his room, let alone change into pajamas. Mostly dressed, Scrooge nudged him to lie down, and Donald sluggishly slipped his legs under the blankets. He started to button up his shirt, but found his hands didn’t want to comply, fumbling over the first button with little success. With another tut, Scrooge pushed his hand away and placed it by his side, giving it a little pat as if to say keep it right there. Scrooge pulled a little tub of Vic’s Vaporub from his nightstand, uncapped it, and began to rub it gently into his chest. Once again, he felt the urge to fight his uncle for treating him like an invalid but was only able to blink groggily as he fought against his heavy eyelids. He must have dozed off for the next thing he knew Scrooge had finished dressing him, set up a humidifier, and tucked him in tight. For a moment, he wondered if this was a fever dream because of how unreal everything felt.

          “Rude, Donald.” Scrooge bat him lightly on the head with a newspaper. “Forget to use inner voice again?”

          Rubbing his head, Donald turned to see Scrooge sitting casually in a rocking chair he set up next to his bed. He colored as he realized he must have spoken aloud by mistake.

          “To answer your question, no this isn’t a fever dream. Although you did have one earlier in the car.” Scrooge unfolded his newspaper, hiding his face behind newsprint. “Kept crying for your Unca.”

          Donald didn’t need to see Scrooge’s face to know that self-satisfied smug grin he abhorred was plastered all over it.

           “No, I didn’t!” He firmly denied his uncle’s allegations but, frankly, he had no memory of his trip back home.

          Scrooge stood up, throwing his newspaper back on the cushion of his chair, to tousle Donald’s head feathers. “Aw, someone’s fussy.” Donald leveled his best grimace at his uncle but had the sinking feeling that it came off as petulant rather than intimidating. For Scrooge’s mocking grin only intensified as he sat down on the bedspread next to him. “Oh,” Scrooge crooned, “What’s the matter? Does the wee barra need a hug from his unca?”

          His head rocked as Scrooge gave his noggin a little push with a smarmy chuckle. He groused, folding his arms over his chest.

          “Anyway. I’m fine now so you can go. Actually, I feel better than ever! I can head back to the Bin with you.” Donald moved to throw the covers off of him, but Scrooge stopped him. His uncle raised an eyebrow at him, grabbed his arms, and easily pinned him back into bed.

“You’re not going anywhere. Look at you! You’re as weak as a kitten.”

           Scrooge raised an eyebrow at him, grabbed his arms, and easily pinned him back into bed. “You are as weak as a kitten!”

           “Nuh-uh.”

           Scrooge smirked. “Go ahead then, lift your arms and prove your well enough to head out.”

           Under normal circumstances, Donald could easily escape from the hold his uncle had him in. But right now, with his muscles weakened from the virus, all he could do is strain helplessly against his captor and caretaker. He pushed and he pushed, but he barely budged his trapped arms. Exhausted, he flopped his head back against the pillows, frustrated he couldn’t accomplish the show of force he needed to escape.

           Scrooge chuckled at his futile attempt and wiggled his limp limbs. “Heh! Look at that, you’ve got no fight in ya’ at all.” He moved Donald’s arms like a puppeteer, laughing with amusement at how easy it was to manipulate the boy’s limbs.

           Donald tried to jerk his arms from Scrooge’s hold but failed to do even that. He affixed a snarl on his face, if he couldn’t fight with strength, then he’d have to use his words. “Glad someone’s enjoying himself.”

          “Oh, girn and fash all you want, boy-o, but it won’t make you any less ill.” Scrooge stopped playing with his arms, letting them lie on the bedspread, his hands still gripped loosely around the boy’s wrists.

          “I’m not sick,” Donald sulked, “And stop treating me like a little kid. I’m an adult!”

          “That so?” Scrooge mused, “Well I beg to differ. You’re obviously sick as a dog. What’s more: “Adults don’t push themselves to the point of collapse. Adults have the good sense to take time off to recover from illness. Adults don’t show up at their relative’s doorstop half-dead and delirious. Adults definitely don’t puke on their uncle’s freshly shined spats on the ride home. Adults—”

          Donald cringed at each allegation Scrooge listed off, growing more embarrassed with each one. “Ok! Ok! I get it,” he cried, thumping his hands angrily against the bedspread.  

          Scrooge finally let go of Donald so he could cross his arms. “Do you? Because you just insisted a minute ago you were well enough to go into work.”

          Opening his bill to snark back, Donald was cut off by a series of explosive wet coughs. With a sigh, Scrooge rubbed his back until the fit subsided. Donald croaked out a sullen little thank you under his breath, hanging his head as he settled into a proper sulk.  

          Scrooge used a finger to tilt Donald head up, making him look at him squarely. “Just being grown doesn’t make you an adult. If you can’t take care of yourself, or exercise enough common sense to ask for help, then I am going to treat you in an appropriate manner. To wit—like a toddler in a huff. Understood?”

           Donald stared at him for a moment before dropping his eyes from Scrooge’s stern gaze. “Yes, sir,” was all he could meekly mumble in return.

           Scrooge pulled his hand from his nephew’s chin and moved to pat his head, looking pleased. “Good boy.” Patting his hands on his thighs, Scrooge pushed against them to lift himself off of Donald bed.

          His motion froze halfway when he heard Donald mutter underneath his breath: “I’m fine though.”

          Sitting back down with a groan, Scrooge cradled his head in his hands for an exasperated moment. The McDuck’s were stubborn folk certainly, but this? This was plain ridiculous. “Ach, Donald.” He dragged a weary hand down his face before turning to look at Donald again. For a moment, he swore he saw that angry little boy from years before, protesting as his uncle cared for him while on a visit from Elvira’s farm. The vision faded just as quickly as it came, and staring back at him was an adult Donald, just as petulant despite his years.  

“Listen,” Scrooge poked Donald’s chest to make him pay attention, “if your boys were ill, would you make them go to school?”

          “No, of course not!” Donald crossed his arms. “I’m not a monster, I wouldn’t make them attend school if they weren’t feeling well.”

          “So why aren’t you treating yourself with the same kindness you treat them?” Scrooge poked him in the chest as he made his point.

          Donald didn’t have a good answer for that. His anger was falling away under the heavy weight of sheepishness. Whether he liked it or not, Scrooge had a point: if he wouldn’t treat his loved ones the same way he treated himself, then it didn’t reflect well on his own estimation of his self.

          Scrooge’s stern look softened as Donald withered slightly under his words. Silently, he pulled Donald into a stiff, little hug, patting his back awkwardly. For a moment, Donald tensed before relaxing somewhat into his uncle’s hug, wrapping his arms around his uncle tightly but uncertainly.

          With Donald pulled up against him, Scrooge could feel the heat radiate from the lad’s body, his back slightly damp to the touch after sweating while he rested. Cautiously, Scrooge rubbed the back of Donald’s neck with a light touch. He wondered if Donald would be acting this way if it were Elvira here to look after him instead of his grouchy, mean ol’ Uncle Scrooge.

          He heard Donald sniffle a little, whether it was from getting choked up or just plain congestion, Scrooge couldn’t tell. He pulled away and stood up, “You still haven’t taken any medicine. I’ll go fetch some for you.” Before he walked out the door, he turned back to fix Donald with another stern look. “No funny business, you hear? I’ll be right back. So, don’t even think of moving.”

          Donald watched Scrooge softly shut the door to his room as he exited. He idly eyed the window, wondering if his uncle had anticipated his attempt to escape out of it. The snow would cushion his fall, right? He sighed heavily, crossing his arms over his stomach. Fine, he thought, I’ll stay put and let the old man look after me. But I don’t have to like it. Or... he could at least continue to pretend he didn't like it.

[tarithenurse]

Orphan - 5

Starring:  Fem!Reader and MCU characters! Contents: Spoilers for Endgame!! Good intentions, awkwardness, feels. A/N: PREVIOUS CHAPTERS can be found on the masterlist. Thanks for likes and reblogs and comments <3

5. Tea and Fate

There’s a fuzziness enveloping your mind that makes everything appear to happen at a slower pace than usual, voices distant and warped. You have to force every movement before your body begrudgingly accepts to carry it out, clumsily too, so it’s a miracle you don’t break anything before breakfast is over. At least the two big kids seem to be similarly slow this morning. Why’s he so hyper? Glancing at the little Nathaniel over your cup of coffee, it strikes you as unnatural how he can be so cheerful, constantly babbling about the things he is planning to do during the day as he bounces on the chair.

“– and then can we go down t’the creek and catch tadpol’th? You wanna come, [Y/N]?”

Huge, pleading eyes are staring at you and suddenly it makes sense when people talk about puppy eyes because not even a golden retriever would be able to reach the levels of cuteness the sticky, noisy kid just achieved. Scrambling for words (preferably a nice way to turn him down), you find yourself stuttering and mumbling before Laura saves you.

“There won’t be any tadpoles now, sweetie. It’s fall, and they’ve all grown up into toads and frogs.” She glances at you with an apologetic smile. “And I think, perhaps, [Y/N] needs a bit of time to get used to being here.”

What I need is a nap. Instead of saying it, you just nod with an attempt at a noncommitting smile that might not have amounted to anything more than a grimace of questionable characteristic. A nap and a plan.

 …   Morgan   …

Uncle Rhodes and mommy have gone into the kitchen and shut the door, leaving Happy as the only entertainment.

“I’m booooooored!” Morgan mutters, mainly to herself because the first attempts at getting the gummy-bear of a man to play with her have failed already. “Can I go play on my own?”

It takes a moment for him to react. “Huh? What, yeah…just stay in the house, ‘kay bug?”

She answers with a cheer and a wave, already bouncing up the stairs to fetch her favourite teddy bear and the space stone from aunt Nebula – you never know what you’re going to need when going on an adventure (even if it’s indoors).

…

Someway or other, Morgan doesn’t quite know how, the exploration has brought her to daddy’s work room where the broad table hums invitingly. He never keeps any of his tools in the house, they’ve all been banished to the shed except this one and all the boring books and papers. Sure enough. Resting the chin on the edge of the humming piece of furniture, she can see a stack of folders on one side and a few scraps with scribbles and lines looking like a robot…or a dog.

Daddy’s things aren’t toys. Crawling up into the soft swivel chair, she enjoys a few rounds before allowing the two treasures to take part in the joy of the secret carousel…now and then stealing a glance between the messy strands of hair at the table. Not toys.

He has used it so many times even with Morgan around. A pat in that corner. A wave of the hand. Blue light fills the room in the middle of the day, making the girl think of the swimming pool at grandma’s and grandpa’s.

“Hello, Morgan.”

The voice is so nice and sweet even if the little girl just did something she isn’t supposed to. “Hi, Fwiday.” Morgan doesn’t blush. Almost never.

“What can I help you with, sweetheart?”

The answering question pops out all on its own. “Where’s dad? Mom keeps cwying ‘cause he’s gone.”

“Oh, sweetie…”

 …   Reader   …

You had never quite imagined that you’d be doing a conference call with a handful of heroes while sitting on the hood of an old John Deere in a barn. There’s a shit ton of things I’ve never imagined. Looking over at Clint, sprawled in the seat and with the feet up on the steering wheel, you could almost be lulled into a sense of calm. That things aren’t completely deranged.

Time and again, you’ve felt like an amateur ice dancer trying to keep your life in balance despite the odds so you shouldn’t be feeling as lost as you do. And still…this time you have no counterweight, no place to call home and no person to guide you through the fog. The voices are familiar, in some twisted kind of way, talking gently as if that magically will calm your nerves…but they don’t know how it does exactly the opposite because they sound condescending just like the overbearing social workers and potential adoptive parents that turned you down for no other reason than being too old. For not looking enough like them that you could pass as their “real” kid on a photograph.

“She’s gotten a copy of the files,” Rhodes is explaining, “to go over with her attorney.”

To see if I’m good enough, if she really has to be stuck with me? “Why?” The question leaves the line silent. “I’m not asking for inheritance…or to be part of her life! I just...”

The sympathetic look Clint gives you is almost worse than the unanswered questions and you close your eyes to it. Deep breaths. Pictures of Tony Stark dance in your mind together with memories of your mother, each of them sporting features that you would be able to point out when looking in a mirror. Like when I was a kid.

Time and again, before the aliens attacked New York, you had conjured up an imaginary world where you had both a mom and a dad – the latter being none other than Tony Stark. In that world, you all lived together, and your mom would say that you had her looks and your dad’s smarts which would make him laugh and pull both of you into a hug. In that fairy-tale –

A hand brushes your arm gingerly, waking you with a start from the reveries – lost long ago in the smouldering rubble of a tiny apartment – to find Clint’s face a foot from yours. Keen eyes study every twitch of the brow, maybe even counting the blackheads on your nose, and you pull back in annoyance.

“Y’okay there?” he asks low enough that people listening in won’t hear.

What do you care? “Sure.” Clearing you voice, it’s all you can do to return the attention to the phone. “As I said…I just needed to know if it was true.”

“If need be, would you be willing to do a DNA-test?” You already recognize the voice as the Hulk’s.

A non-committal shrug before you realize they can’t see it. “Sure.”

…

From your spot on the bed on the second floor, you can look out over the field stretching towards the forest. Everything is drenched, covered by sheer greyness that makes the grasses bow and the fallen leaves stick to each other as if hoping the wind won’t be able to move them. The sun is setting somewhere beyond this drab world, but no colours of rose gold and purple reach this far to warm your body now the layers of borrowed clothes and a musty blanket don’t cut it.

You can hear the bubbling giggle that erupts sporadically from Nathaniel. This time you hear Cooper too, a boyish version of his mother…when he can drag himself out of the teenage moods, at least. He’s not that bad, according to your limited experience of kids in full families, just kind of sullen with a tendency to walk away when bothered. Like whenever I enter the room. He’d barely stayed in the seat to finish breakfast. At lunch he’d walked in, seen you, and declared not to be hungry before leaving.

Some people might think it was a relief that Lila sat through the meal, but the glaring was tough to ignore. What’ve I done to them? Your eyes prickle dangerously, and your nose is close to dripping too, callously ignoring the deep breaths and stubborn, unspoken promises that you don’t care. I don’t. It’s not like you haven’t gone through these things before back when you were their age, finding kids scowling at you for no apparent reasons. It’s better than pity. There’s plenty of that to go around and –

*knock knock*

Startled by the sound, body trying to crawl in on itself to feel small and inconspicuous, you hold your breath in the hopes that you heard wrong, but it happens again. Slow but resolute knocking.

“[Y/N]?” Even though she’s rarely spoken to you, the voice of Lila is easily recognizable. “Can I…is’t okay if I c’m’in?”

I’m an adult. I gotta act like one. Any wetness by the eyes is hastily rubbed away. “Sure.” Clear and steady.

The door creaks after ears of disuse, allowing the appearance of the back of Lila’s shoulder as she slides the elbow off the handle. Huh? The moment there’s room, she turns to reveal a little tray with two enormous cups of something steaming and a little tray of cookies. A shy smile, shoulders carefully rising before being lowered with a newfound confidence as you return the silent greeting by making room on the bed for the girl.

Outside, the rain fights to break the grey haze obscuring the world but in reality adding to it. The flaming colours that had managed to maintain a desperate hold on the twigs so far are disappearing in an early dusk. A moment ago that misery had your attention, resonating within, now it’s chased away by an awkward, lanky girl sitting cross-legged before you while apologizing for the lack of milk.

“Hey! It’s okay,” you manage to interrupt her at a break for air, “I’ll drink it any which way, so thanks…”

“Good, good…”

Drops pummel the window. Tea scent heats your faces causing a new flush to be added to Lila’s cheeks. Good tea, as if that’s the reason you feel guilt gnawing for the negativity against the girl…a negativity that evaporates like the steam curling above the hot liquid.

“I’m sorry,” Lila admits, and you’re not sure why even though you have an idea, “I…Cooper and me…” For a moment all her attention seems to be on the cookie she steeps in the mug. Seems. “I’ve been a jerk, haven’t I?”

Alright! Up front now! “Maybe. I guess I’ve been too...” Sharing a glance you recognize some of Clint in the way she takes in every detail. “So this is like…a truce? Ceasefire?”

“Hoped so.”

You can’t hug it out with her. There’s been too many fake hugs in your life from people who claimed they’d be there for you. Lila doesn’t promise anything except to try to be decent and that’s something you can mirror. Good thing too. You’ve got nothing else to offer.

“– they say I need to start school Monday.” Clearly, you’ve missed the start of whatever the middle Barton kid’s saying, but you can fill it out. “I’m gonna be like the only senior from my year left! Can you imagine?”

“A little, maybe. People did stare a shitlo–…sorry…a lot at uni. But hey! At least the sophomore was only surprised when I appeared on his lap. At first.”

“Nooo!” Wide eyes followed by a crinkle of amusement. “Was he hot?”

What?! That line of thought had never occurred to you. “Uhm…I don’t actually remember, I’m just glad he didn’t push me onto the floor.”

There’s a tiny snort of giggles, “Hey, welcome back! Yeet!” Her tea almost spills as she imitates the student forcibly tossing you aside.

[chasethesun18]

50 questions you’ve never been asked

tagged by @goddess-clarke​ 🥰

What is the colour of your hairbrush? purple and black

Name a food you never eat? seafood and red meat

Are you typically too warm or too cold? i used to be too cold all the time and then i went through a time where i was too hot and now im back to somewhere in the middle but mostly cold. my fingers turn blue a lot lolol

What were you doing 45 minutes ago? mm so i just watched the premier of blindspot s5 and it is now dead to me and i will be forgetting this episode happened and not continuing the season. so ive spent the last hour trying to erase the ep from my memory and cheer myself up. its not working so now im answering 50 questions. as one does.

What is your favourite candy bar? oh i don't know. it changes. i really like peanut m&ms and york patties

Have you ever been to a professional sports event?  professional...maybe? i think i’ve possibly been to a pro baseball. im from the south and we dont do pro we only do college. ive been to..idk hundreds on hundreds of those

What is the last thing you said out loud? told my mom i loved her. cause im cute like that.

What is your favourite ice cream? i like vanilla with a lot of toppings. but also coffee and mint chocolate chip 

What was the last thing you had to drink? im drinking cherry vanilla coke zero. yes its 11:42pm. dont judge me.

Do you like your wallet? yeah its cute. its little and red 

What was the last thing you ate? salad with chicken (oo she healthy)

Did you buy any new clothes last weekend? yeah no. i haven't bought new clothes in forever. actually got into an argument with my mom about that today

The last sporting event you watched? BEFORE SPORTS WERE CANCELLED YOU MEAN????? baseball. 

What is your favourite flavour of popcorn? ....popcorn has flavors? idk salt?

Who is the last person you sent a text message to? my sister. about said blindspot premier. she's writing a book and considering killing off one of the characters and i told her i didn't want someone to get to the end of her book and wish she hadn't read it which is how i feel about blindspot rn

Ever go camping? i do, my major is parks and rec so im a ~big outdoors girl~ but im actually more into the historical preservation side of things and i dont really like camping but i have been dragged into it bc of my major

Do you take vitamins? no but i take a shit ton of medication. y'all didnt need to know that srry.

Do you go to church every Sunday? yes. before that got cancelled too. its fine.

Do you have a tan? i do! super proud of it. its the beginning stages

Do you prefer Chinese food or pizza? pizza i hate chinese food

Do you drink your soda with a straw? yes

What colour socks do you usually wear? white

Do you ever drive above the speed limit? ....ok does anyone follow the exact speed limit? come on. ive never gotten a ticket tho

What terrifies you? a lot of things. small spaces. bugs. heights but only sometimes. losing a loved one. change. im an anxious person ok

Look to your left, what do you see? a wall (these are entertaining answers im serving yall)

What chore do you hate? vacuuming. GOSH I HATE IT. idk why but it pisses me off every time. i think its cause it makes me sweat and like why should i have to SWEAT from vacuuming? its so loud too i can't listen to music while i do it

What do you think of when you hear an Australian accent? g’day mate

What’s your favourite soda? coke zero or dr pepper

Do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive-thru? drive-thru unless the drive-thru is too long and then it defeats the purpose of going for fast food so i go in

Who’s the last person you talked to? my mom

Favourite cut of beef? i dont eat red meat :P

Last song you listened to? holding on and letting go - ross copperman (tvd forever)

Last book you read? my major is reading heavy and my minor (history) is even more reading heavy. i had a history class this semester where i had to read 6 books in their entirety so that's the last thing i read. i havent read for fun since i started college lol. but i do still read fanfic and that counts

Favourite day of the week? friday. its the anticipation of the weekend without the disappointment of the weekend

Can you say the alphabet backwards? lol no

How do you like your coffee? if i make it myself i like it with creamer and splenda. if i get it out i like sugar free vanilla lattes with nonfat milk (yes im a basic bitch I KNOW. i also take a sip and if it tastes wrong i go ‘um excuse me is this the nOn FaT MiLk’ like im literally that bitch)

Favourite pair of shoes? aesthetically ive got some bomb heels but i havent had the occasion to wear those in a long time

The time you normally go to bed? before all this 11-1. now idk time is just a construct 

The time you normally get up? ..before all this 8/9 depending on what time my class was. now i force myself to get up around 9/10. i dont naturally wake up. if i dont set an alarm i will sleep until 1pm

What do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets? i like both but i havent seen many sunrises bc i dont wake up. so sunset

How many blankets on your bed? twooo

Describe your kitchen plates: the ones at my parents house are just plain white and the ones in my apartment are plain green. wow im plain.

Do you have a favourite alcoholic beverage? so ya girl just turned 21 !!!! and no, im not a big fan. it all tastes like cough syrup. help.

Do you play cards?. my family does sometimes. i think its boring

What colour is your car? dark grey. her name is the black pearl. shes not black tho....

Can you change a tire? no but ive never tried

Your favourite province? ok this question is gonna show my ignorant american side and i dont want it to soooo

Favourite job you’ve ever had? i used to work at this place that did mommy and me music classes. i taught the one that was a drop off class called school skills so it was like k5 for 3-4 yrs old

How did you get your biggest scar? i dont have many scars. i have one above my eye from falling backwards into a rocking chair lol

What did you do today that made someone else happy? i dont know, honestly. i feel like im barely interacting with people. i ran errands with my mom and i think that made her happy...but she was in a bad mood so hard to tell lolol

anyway, this was fun and now im not thinking about that show. crap now im thinking about it. UGH.

tagging: @hpfangirl13 @amazalina @dorisquinn @rebel-belles @vivianelynne20 @modernlifehistorian (i know you're there) @sherlolly-siya @fromiftowhen

[bettas-and-other-oddities]

Basic Betta Care Guide:

This will be a bare minimum care guide for betta care. As with most of everything on this blog, it is mostly going to be based on my experience of keeping bettas, stuff that I have researched, and full of sarcasm. Please, with any new pet, do research of your own to ensure that you know how to properly take care of your animal, or you may end up torturing or killing your animal.

TANK SIZE

There is a bit of debate on the betta community about the minimum tank size for a betta fish. In my eyes, a 5 gallon (~19L) for a permanent home. You can use a 2.5 for a small hospital tank, or for a temp tank if you suddenly came into ownership of a betta. If you choose a 2.5, please look into getting at least a 5 gallon (~19L) for your betta. Bettas love lots of space to swim and explore, as well as water quality is easier to maintain in a large tank. 5 gallons (~19L) are also the smallest tank that can safely maintain a stable tank cycle. Besides, the bigger the tank, the more you can decorate.

CYCLE YOUR TANK

The niteogen cycle is this big long process that is invisible to the eye. A short hand explanation is basically benificial bactera grows in your tank when you have an ammonia source, like fish waste, and it grows and grows until the bacteria is able to convert your ammonia and waste into other chemicals and such. I'm not so great at describing cycling, so here is a great link to look into!

Cycling your tank is a long and boring process, and it can happen anywhere between 2-8 weeks. Its long and boring, but putting a fish in an uncycled tank (also called fish in cycling) can be detrimental to your fish, as it usually results in stress, ammonia burns, and even death. Here is another link in case you are reading this after you added a fish to a new aquarium.

You can use bottled bacteria, like Seachem stability, API quick start, or Tetra safe start to help speed it up, but there are some discussions on whether or not they actually help. You can also ask a friend that has tanks if you can have some of their filter media to add into your filter. I don't recomend getting pet store filter media, as you could accidentally introduce sickness or parasites.

A FILTER AND HEATER ARE REQUIRED, NOT OPTIONAL

Most people assume that a betta can just live in a cute little bowl for its whole life. Which is so wrong. Your tank absolutely needs a filter and a heater. Filters help keep a stable nitrogen cycle and helps reduce maintenance. A heater is needed as bettas are tropical fish, coming from places like Malaysia and Thailand where temps are a nice warm 78-90°. With a heater in your tank, it should keep your betta tank at a toasty 78-80° F ( 25-27° C). A cold tank can lower your bettas immune system which leads to illness, as well as it slows their metabolism and activity levels. A good filter and heater is key to a happy bettas. Here is a diagram of what wattage heater is needed for your tank size!

TANK DECORATIONS

Getting a new tank can be exciting when it comes to picking out decorations! But take a minute to think about them before you go hog wild on them. Bettas have very beautiful, and very delicate fins. You have to find decorations that won't cut up your new betta buddy. Live plants are a great option. They are very soft, and even help with your water quality. Low tech plants don't require a ton of additional care, and can look amazing. Here is a link to a website that gives you info on some easy to care for aquarium plants!

If you don't want to try out live plants, silk plants are also a good option for bettas. They are very papery plants that are soft and safe for a bettas fins. I have silk plants in both of my bettas tanks. They are also easier to clean, with just some hot water and a clean, non soapy toothbrush.

If you want non-plant decorations, its really inportant to make sure there are no sharp edges. You can test this by taking a nylon stocking and dragging it across the decorations. If it catches, it might not be so safe for fragile fins.

Always check the inside of your hides. It can be super soft and smooth in the outside, but the inside can have the sharp edges of seals and other things. Make sure your betta cant get stuck in them, as well.

Bettas also like to have a very heavily planted tank. They are fearful in large open spaces. Here is a couple ideas of a good betta tank.

PICKING OUT YOUR BETTA

Picking out a new buddy can be the most exciting part of starting the hobby. Its really important to decide where you want to get your betta. If you decide to go online and order a betta, make sure there are good reviews on the breeder. If people say that their betta never arrived, died during shipping and had to pay for a dead betta, or there is just poor quality bettas, its best to look for a different breeder. A good breeder will have a variety of pictures of the betta, and will be able to answer your questions about the betta you're intersted in. They also will have some good reviews. You can always ask the betta community for recommendation for breeders. I don't have a lot of experience with getting bettas online, so I don't have a lot of info on them. ***

If you plan on getting your betta at a pet store or local fish store, there are still some things to look for. You want to make sure the betta is active, and alert. They should also have healthy fins for their tail type. Small tears are okay of you plan on keeping your water clean and healthy. I don't recommend beginners going out and "rescuing" a sick betta, as you won't have a lot of experience dealing with illnesses, and could potentially end up with a dead betta within days of purchasing the fish. If you are experienced and want to help a sick fish, go ahead and help it.

Its also a good idea to go to the store, look at the bettas, and go home and research the type of betta you liked the most. Some betta types have lots of health issues. Twin tails are more susceptible to swim bladder, dragon scales often go blind, and "rarer" breeds like black orchids and platinum can have health issues from breeding. Pet store bettas are also just in general less healthy than normal due to the disgusting amount of over breeding.

TANK MAINTENCE

Now that you have everything set up, you have your betta buddy, don't sit down and relax yet. There is still a lot of care maintaining your new tank. Usually you need to conduct 25-30% weekly water changes on your tank, and also make sure everything in your tank is healthy. Maintence can include water changes, cleaning the inside of the glass to clean off algae, trimming back plants when the get too long, and cleaning your gravel. A lot of new fish keepers just assume you can throw a fish in a tank and that's all there is too it. Unfortunately, that's not the case. A fish tank is maintence. If that's not for you, its best to stop reading and consider a pet rock or a fake houseplant. Not keeping up on your maintence can lead to a gross looking tank and sometimes death.

FEEDING AND FOOD

Its easy to feed a betta, but harder to find a food that's actually good for your betta. Sure, it can eat goldfish flakes, but its not good for it. Usually for food, I recommend frozen blood worms, daphnia worms, fluval bug bites, and omega one betta pellets. Its good to vary up your bettas diet.

The pet store may tell you that you only need to feed your betta once a week, but thats usually because bettas are in cups and they need to reduce waste, and the bettas don't need that many calories. Your betta at home is going to need more food. I feed my bettas almost every day, with fasting days throughout the week. Its important to know that a bettas stomach is only about the size of their eye, and over feeding is really easy. They only need 2-4 pellets of food per day. You can split that up into two feedings, or do it all at once. As much as your betta begs for food, don't over feed them. It can lead to health issues.

WHAT TO DO IF YOUR FISH GETS SICK

You can do everything right, and keep your water pristine, and still end up with some sort of sickness. And that's okay! Most illnesses are very treatable. The most common illnesses with bettas are swim bladder and fin rot. Swim bladder is usually caused by over feeding. Here is a link to a website that better explains it, and how to treat it!

The other most common one is fin rot. This usually happens due to a cut on the fins that gets infected. It can look like a black or red outline on the fins, and the fins look tattered and broken. Here is a picture of my late fish Tofu that had a bad case of fin rot.

Usually, warm clean water and taking out decorations that are sharp will help. If it doesn't, there are some awesome over the counter medications you can get to help it. Stay away from pimafix or melafix, as they are mostly tea tree oil and the oil will end up coating the bettas labyrinth organ and suffocate the betta.

If your betta doesn't look or act normal, consult a veterinarian or ask a local betta keeper/expert, and they can help you.

Here is a website that I like that helps with betta diseases.

SHOPPING LIST

Here is a quick shopping list of things you will need to set up a new tank!

Tank at least 5gallons (~19L)

Water conditioner (I recomend Seachem Prime)

Soft decorations/plants/gravel

Heater

Filter (depending on the filter I would get filter floss to house your bacteria)

(Optional) bottled bacteria

API master test kit to test your parameters

Water siphon/gravel vac (helps with water changes)

Betta food

Your new betta buddy (for after you've set up and cycled your tank)

I hope that this was helpful to people wanting to get into the hobby. Please feel free to reblog and add things as you see fit! I hope you guys enjoy!

***I usually get my fish from my local pet store. I don't quite know how the fish process is when ordering from an online breeder, I only know as much as comparing it to getting a dog from a breeder. Please feel free to reblog or messege me with a more accurate explanation/guide to betta breeders!

[27dragons]

Name of Piece: The Bliss of Ignorance Square Filled: R3 - didn’t know they were dating Rating: T Warnings: None Summary: Bucky and Tony are friends. It only makes sense they’d do nice things for each other. But there’s nothing between them. Really. Created For: @tonystarkbingo

Bucky was playing paper football with Clint when Tony pushed into the coffee shop, arms laden with thick books, as usual. Bucky felt a warm little spurt of fondness. Of all the friends Steve had made while Bucky was deployed overseas, Tony was his favorite. Bucky waved, then dragged over a chair from another table.

“That stack must weigh almost as much as you,” he said as Tony dropped the books on the table with a relieved sigh.

“Just about,” Tony agreed. “But they don’t have ebook versions, so...” He shrugged. “It’s okay, I only need them for a few days.”

“Mechanical Engineering and Robotics,” Steve read off the spines. “Fundamentals of Robotics Design. Tony, what the heck? You took Fundamentals three semesters ago.”

“Yeah, but I thought I should brush up.” He grinned and bounced in his seat with barely-suppressed excitement. “I got that internship with Fujikawa!”

“What! Tony, that’s fantastic!” Bucky said, amidst the others’ congratulations. “You’re gonna blow ‘em away.”

“I hope so,” Tony said. “I mean, it’s just an internship, I know I won’t be actually working on design or anything, but--”

“They’ll be lucky to have you,” Bucky promised.

“Thanks.” Tony opened one of the books and took out a small stack of pages held together with a paperclip. “Of course, now I’ve got to fill in all this new hire paperwork. Anyone got a pen I can borrow?”

Natasha had one, because she was prepared for everything, always.

Bucky and Clint went back to their game while Tony muttered over the forms he was filling out and Steve and Nat bickered good-naturedly about whose turn it was to decide where their next date would be.

“Oh, dammit,” Tony sighed. “They want an emergency contact number. There’s no way I’m putting my parents on here.”

Tony’s wealthy father had cut Tony off after they’d fought over what Tony should major in, among other things. In defiance, Tony had gotten loans and was finishing up his degree on his own terms. Bucky was ridiculously proud of him. “Put me down, doll,” Bucky suggested.

“Really?”

“Sure,” Bucky said. “I’m mostly on night shift anyway, so I’ll be around when you blow something up.”

Tony huffed, but wrote Bucky’s name and number on the form. “Robotics doesn’t really involve a lot of explosions,” he said. “More’s the pity.”

“Okay, so when you accidentally create an evil robot that’s bent on destroying the world,” Bucky amended. Tony laughed, and Bucky ruffled his hair.

[’ware the readmore!]

Tony pushed open the door to Bucky’s apartment. Bucky had given him a key when it had come up that Bucky’s apartment was closer to the Fujikawa office than the fourth-floor walkup that Tony split with Clint and Pietro. “That way you’ve got a place to stash your books an’ stuff so you don’t gotta lug ‘em all that way,” Bucky had said.

It was handy; Tony kept a couple of changes of clothes at Bucky’s, too, in case he had to work late and crash on Bucky’s couch. And Bucky had given him space in the fridge, too, so Tony could eat dinner there before taking the subway back to his own apartment. They often ate together, in fact -- Tony’s dinner was Bucky’s breakfast.

Bucky was in the kitchen already when Tony came in, humming tunelessly as he made a mess of the eggs in his frying pan. He looked up with a bright smile when Tony came in. “Heya, dollface! Good day?”

“Yeah, actually,” Tony said. “I found a little flaw in the design I was proofreading, and my boss said I probably saved the company a couple of months on the project and a shit-ton of money.”

“That’s great!” Bucky said. He threw his arm around Tony’s shoulders and squeezed him in a quick hug before going back to his eggs. “We should go out to celebrate.”

“Speaking of celebration,” Tony said, “your birthday is coming up. You going to let me plan a party?”

“What? You don’t gotta go to any trouble for me,” Bucky said.

Tony glared at him. “It’s not trouble if I want to do it. C’mon, it’s the first birthday you’ve had since you came back stateside. Let us take you out and have some fun!”

Bucky made a face like he was going to argue, and Tony turned on the pout. Bucky could never resist Tony’s pout.

“Fine, okay,” Bucky sighed. His mouth twitched like he was trying to suppress a smile. “Nothin’ too crazy, though, okay? It’s just a birthday, don’t really mean nothin’.”

“I promise,” Tony lied cheerfully, and whipped out his phone. “Cancelling the hunky male strippers now.”

Bucky laughed. “Nah, you might as well keep those,” he said. “Makin’ Stevie blush is the best present you could give me, anyway.”

(“Oh my god,” Bucky said, three weeks later. “I thought you were kidding about the strippers!”

“Buck, I never kid about strippers,” Tony said solemnly. He’d had to badger Clint and Bruce and Natasha into helping him pay for it, but it was totally worth it for the way Bucky’s eyes had bugged out and the blush that climbed up out of Bucky’s collar.

“Best birthday ever.”)

Steve and Natasha were completely disgusting together pretty much all the time, but for Valentine’s Day, they took it to new heights. “Ug, get a room,” Bucky complained.

“Or,” Clint suggested with a practiced leer, “put on a show.”

“You have a boyfriend,” Bucky reminded him.

“It’s okay, I’ll film it for him.” Clint thumbed on his phone and turned on the photo app.

“Gross. Stevie, what the hell happened to the evils of the industrial marketing complex, huh?”

Steve managed to tear his gaze away from Natasha. “I guess when you’re this much in love, you’ll take any excuse to show it.”

“Oh gag me,” Bucky whined.

“Kinky,” said Tony in his ear. “We haven’t even gotten to third base yet.”

“Jesus!” Bucky jumped. “Where’d you come from?”

“Just got here.” Tony dragged out a chair and dropped into it, then tossed a package into Bucky’s lap.

“What’s this?” Bucky picked the box up and turned it over.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Tony said. “The bodega on Seventh already has their chocolate on post-holiday markdown.”

“Nice!” If Bucky was going to have to watch his paired-off friends being all sappy and cute with each other all day while Bucky was single, it was nice to have consolation chocolate to go with it. “But don’t think this means I’m putting out.”

“What about this one?”

Bucky leaned over Tony’s shoulder to read the Craigslist ad. “I dunno, this guy sounds like a creeper.”

“They all sound like creepers,” Tony pointed out. “It’s a roommate-wanted ad.”

Bucky chewed on his lip. He could appreciate Tony wanting to move out of Clint and Pietro’s apartment to give the two their privacy, but he didn’t like the idea of Tony living with a stranger. Especially not with the creeps and drug dealers that seemed to be all Tony was finding on Craigslist.

Fuck it. “You could always move in with me,” he said. Bucky’s apartment was small, but he had it to himself.

Tony gave him a wide-eyed look. “I already impose on you enough.”

“Nah. Half your stuff is at my place anyway, you might as well just bring the rest.”

Tony rubbed at the spot on his chest that meant he was considering it. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said. “I don’t want to go back to night shift, but losing the pay differential kinda sucked. Little help with the rent and bills would be nice, honestly.”

“I’m graduating next semester,” Tony reminded him. “Once I get a real job, I can help out a lot more.”

“Bet Fujikawa’s gonna snap you right up,” Bucky said. “They keep re-upping your internship. They know you’re a keeper.”

“Okay,” Tony said. “Yeah, we can make that work. I bet Clint and Piet will be relieved to have the place to themselves, finally.”

“Everyone wins,” Bucky agreed.

Tony heard the door open, but didn’t look up from his homework. “Welcome home, snugglebug.”

“Hey there, shmoopsie,” Bucky shot back. The ridiculous pet names had started as mockery of Steve and Nat, and then turned into their own private joke. “Anything interesting happen today?”

“Rhodey nearly had a nervous breakdown in the computer lab when the printer ran out of paper and the IT guy said they wouldn’t be around to refill it until tomorrow,” Tony reported. “But I told him I’d print his paper here and drop it off when we meet up for drinks later. That okay?”

“As long as it’s not a hundred-pager,” Bucky agreed.

“Nah, just twelve.”

“No worries, then.”

“Oh, and we got our invitation to Steve and Nat’s wedding in the mail,” Tony said. He pointed at the table that was more of a dumping ground than a useful surface. “Singular invitation. One of them, for both of us.”

Bucky snorted as he picked it up and turned it over. “Fancy,” he commented. “What, no ‘and Guest’ for either of us?”

“Steve did say they were trying to keep it small and intimate,” Tony pointed out. “If either of us were dating anyone, they’d already know about it.”

“They didn’t have to send us an invitation at all,” Bucky said. “Seeing as we’re both in the wedding party.”

“I think that’s just so we can mark our dinner preference,” Tony said. He squinted at his homework, erased a line of math, and reworked it.

“Oh, yeah, here’s the card. Oh, you already filled it out for us. How’d you know I’d want the chicken?”

“Because you only like steak if it’s still bleeding, and there’s no way to get real rare steak from a catering venue.”

“You know me so well.” Bucky messed up Tony’s hair on his way past. “Guess you’ll be an okay date.”

“I hope I catch the bouquet,” Tony quipped. “Then you’ll have to marry me.”

Bucky snared Steve’s elbow and drew him aside. “Stevie. I hate to be a wet blanket at your own rehearsal dinner, but...”

“What’s wrong, Buck?”

“The room you got for me an’ Tony... Look, I’m super grateful to you guys for putting us up, but there was some kind of mix-up with the hotel, an’ they said they can’t change it without your say-so ‘cause it’s on your credit card.”

“Oh.” Steve looked relieved. “Is that all? We can swing by the front desk and do that. What’s wrong with the room?”

“It’s only got one bed.”

Steve hesitated. “That’s... that’s a problem?”

“What do you-- of course it’s a problem!”

“Sorry, Buck,” Steve said, his eyes wide. “I didn’t know. You guys have been together so long, I just assumed--”

“Wait,” Bucky said. “Wait wait wait. What do you mean, together? You mean Tony and me? Like, together, together?”

“Well... yeah?” Steve blinked. “Aren’t you?”

“Of course we’re not!”

“What do you mean, ‘of course’? You an’ Tony have been living in each other’s pockets for like... two years now. He moved in with you!”

“That’s no different than when he was livin’ with Clint and Pietro! It ain’t like we’re suckin’ face everywhere!”

“We just figured you weren’t all that demonstrative in public. Besides, you flirt with each other all the time,” added Steve.

“It’s a joke.”

Steve put his hand on Bucky’s shoulder and looked at him gravely. “Is it?”

Bucky’s mouth fell open, but no protest came out. Over Steve’s shoulder, Bucky could see Tony, laughing as he thumb-wrestled with Pietro over the last slice of bread. Bucky caught himself smiling fondly, and Steve patted his shoulder. “Maybe not as much of a joke as you think, pal,” Steve said. The jerk.

“I’ll... get back to you on that room thing,” Bucky said, unable to tear his eyes away from Tony.

“You do that, Buck.” And Steve was gone.

Shit. Shit. How had he never realized... All their friends thought they were dating? Had been, for... for years.

And sure, they lived together. They went everywhere together, but that was just convenience. It was nice, having company when you were out running errands. It was good sense not to wander the city alone, too, especially when you’d been out having a good time.

And okay, neither of them had gone on any dates in the last couple of years, either, but that was because Tony was focused on his studies and his internship and Bucky was...

Was...

Oh, fuck, was he in love with Tony?

How long had that been going on?

“No dice with the room?” Tony asked when Bucky came back to the table. It was fine, Tony had figured there was a possibility that the hotel’s double bed rooms had already been booked. They could share a bed for two nights; it wouldn’t be that much of an imposition.

“Uh. There’s sort of a... thing,” Bucky said. He looked a little pale.

“Hey, you okay?”

“What? Yeah. Yeah, I’m just...” Bucky looked up and down the table, then took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for something. “Come an’ take a little walk with me?”

“Sure,” Tony said, pushing his chair back. “You sure you’re all right?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, leading Tony away from the noise and down a side hall. “I just... Um.” When the rehearsal party was out of sight and almost out of earshot, Bucky stopped and leaned against the wall. “So... the reason we got that room,” he said, eyes on the peeling wallpaper, “is ‘cause apparently everyone thinks we’re. Y’know. Together.”

Tony blinked. Then blinked again. “You mean together, together?”

Bucky huffed out a little laugh. “That’s ‘xactly what I said.”

“Oh my god,” Tony said. “Why the hell would they--” Except it made perfect sense, didn’t it, if you were on the outside, looking in. Bucky and Tony spent all their time together. They flirted. They gave each other gifts. They spent their holidays together. They gave each other Valentine’s gifts and planned each other’s birthday parties. They were each other’s emergency contacts, for fuck’s sake. “Huh.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said.

Tony was beginning to understand why Bucky looked so poleaxed. It wasn’t like he’d never thought about it -- Bucky was one damned fine looking man, after all. But he’d never taken it seriously. Bucky was not just gorgeous but smart and brave and funny and kind, and Tony was lucky enough just being Bucky’s friend. But apparently their friends thought there was more there. And he couldn’t help but understand why. “We’ve been dating all this time, and didn’t realize it,” Tony said.

“I guess so.”

Bucky glanced up, and Tony was arrested by the look in Bucky’s eyes. Longing and hungry. Bucky’s eyes dropped, but only to Tony’s mouth and neck, and Bucky licked his lips, let his teeth drag over his bottom lip.

Oh. Oh. Bucky... wanted that?

With Tony?

Tony’s breath hitched and Bucky’s eyes snapped back up to meet Tony’s gaze.

Tony swallowed. “It’s a nice bed,” he said cautiously.

Bucky nodded slowly. “Looked very nice. Big. Comfy. And it’d be a real hassle to make the hotel change our room now. It’s getting late, and all.”

“That’s true,” Tony agreed. “Maybe we should just keep it.”

“We are here together,” Bucky pointed out. “The invitation said.”

“Hang on, I want to try something,” Tony said. Bucky stared at him, and Tony leaned in, felt the soft rush of air as Bucky sucked in a breath. “Yeah?”

Bucky nodded, and Tony leaned in a little closer to brush his lips against Bucky’s once, twice, a third time.

Then Bucky’s hand curled around Tony’s neck, fingers pushing through Tony’s hair, and pulled him in for another, deeper kiss. Tony’s stomach filled with butterflies and a rush of heat flooded Tony’s body. “Oh god,” he croaked.

Bucky reached for Tony’s hand, lacing their fingers together, then glanced at Tony shyly. “Okay? If they see? If they know?”

Tony grinned. “Honey, apparently we’re the only idiots who didn’t know.” He squeezed Bucky’s hand tighter. “Come on, let’s go back to dinner and make everyone sick at how sappy we are.”

“Steve and Nat have it coming,” Bucky agreed. “And then after dinner...”

“After dinner,” Tony said, thrilling at the thought, “we’ll go back to our room and take advantage of that very nice bed.”

~fin.